#your death was so funny. thank you soldier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellemj · 5 months

Text

Candy Cane: 12 Days of Smut #4

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Warnings: profanity, stuck in an elevator, mentions of death, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I usually hate everything I write but this sure felt like some good shit while I was writing it. Hopefully it feels the same for whoever may read it. Thank you sooo much to @mashedpotatooooos for this beyond perfect prompt, as soon as she submitted it to me I was SCREAMING. So creative, so inspirational, thank you for feeding me with this brilliant idea.

A fucking candy cane. A fucking peppermint treat from the 1840s. That’s what’s going to be the Winter Soldier’s undoing? No. Really, it’s you. It’s the way you’re sucking on the damn thing. The way you’re wrapping your lips around it so sensually, savoring the taste with an innocent little gleam in your eye. That’s what’s going to kill him. He’s had enough.

The sound of a chair scraping along the hard floor breaks you out of your trance. Pulling your half-finished candy cane out of your mouth, you lift your gaze and look across the room to see Bucky silently disappearing down the hallway. God, he’s moody today.

“I bet that’s why they called him the Winter Soldier.” Sam scoffs. You raise an eyebrow at him as you resume your work on the candy cane. “Because his mood is always so damn icy.”

“That’s cute.” You say, refusing to dignify his bad joke with a laugh, although you have to admit, it was kind of funny. He’s right though, Bucky’s been a little extra moody this week. You’re not really surprised that he’d be someone who hates Christmas, it’s very on brand for him. It’s only three days away now and he hasn’t said a thing about it. The rest of you have been watching Christmas movies, having hot cocoa way too often, and at the very least pretending to be festive most days. But Bucky’s been staying in his room excessively more and frowning enough to end up on Santa’s naughty list. Something’s up with him. You’d have already asked what was wrong with him if you weren’t so annoyed at his inability to spit it out unprompted. The man is over a hundred years old but still has the communication skills of a teenager.

Only a few hours later, Bucky’s just finished up taking his frustrations out in the gym when you’re coming back from a run to the grocery store. You needed a few ingredients for the Christmas cookies you plan on baking tomorrow and there’s no better time to hit the grocery store than at night. Of course, just as you’re coming inside the tower, you see the elevator doors sliding shut. You rush forward, throwing your hand out to hold the elevator. Bucky lets out an audible sigh when he sees you step into the small space. He thinks about darting back out before the doors close both of you in, but he knows he’d have to explain himself if he did something that childish. So, he remains.

Bucky keeps his gaze trained on the screen above the doors, watching as it slowly counts each floor that you’re carried past. You, on the other hand, keep your eyes trained on him. He’s clearly just come from the gym, as evidenced by his dark athletic shorts and sweaty t-shirt. He doesn’t wear short sleeves often, so you take the rare moment to steal a look at his black and gold arm. That’s when he finally decides to give you a sideways glance. You’re just about to break the unusual silence by saying whatever pops into your mind first when the sound of grinding metal fills the air. You don’t even have a moment to brace yourself before the elevator practically skids to a screeching halt and throws you and your bag of Christmas ingredients sideways into one of the walls. You closed your eyes on impact, and when you blink them open again, you’re thrust into darkness. The power must’ve gone out. After just a couple of seconds, the very dim emergency lights kick on and you straighten yourself up, stepping away from the wall and trying to fully comprehend the situation that you’re in. Bucky’s analyzing you as you stand there, staring straight ahead in thought. You don’t look to be injured or very frightened that you’re trapped in such a small space, so he feels it’s safe to say that you’re not claustrophobic.

“The button to call the fire department isn’t even lighting up.” You say quietly, more to yourself than to the super soldier who stands a foot to your right. That means you’ll have to try your phones, and if those don’t work then you’ll be trapped in here until someone realizes that you and Bucky have been missing for too long.

“I’ll call Sam.” Bucky fishes his phone out of the waistband of his shorts and quickly types in his passcode, easily finding Sam’s contact since it’s one of the very few that he has saved. He’s just about to hit the button to put the call through when he notices the top of his phone displays a “no signal” alert. Shit. “No service.”

“Of course, no fire department and no phone service.” There’s a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice but you try your best to tamp it down. “W-what floor were we on before it stopped?” You know Bucky was watching the floor counter.

“Fourteen.” Suddenly, you can picture the elevator plummeting all the way down to the ground floor, killing you both on impact. However, the more rational side of your brain reminds you that elevators have emergency braking systems specifically designed to keep something like that from happening. You inhale a shaky breath and try to come up with at least a semblance of a plan in your mind, something to keep you from thinking too much about how you’re trapped so high above the ground in a little metal box. Bucky watches you closely as you move to sit on the floor, letting your back rest against the back wall and drawing your knees up to your chest. You begin rummaging through your little grocery bag and when your hand wraps around what you were searching for, you pull it out and begin opening the small package. Even in the dim light, Bucky can tell exactly what it is. Fucking candy canes.

“Do you want one?” You hold one out to Bucky but he gives you an almost displeased look as he shakes his head, staring down at the candy cane in your hand with disdain. So, not only does Bucky Barnes hate Christmas, but he even hates the most basic Christmas candy. You almost laugh to yourself at how ridiculous he is. He’s turning out to be an actual scrooge.

“Fine, more for me.” You unwrap the candy cane and lift it to your mouth, beginning to suck on the straight end of it. You’re not paying Bucky any attention now, so you don’t notice the way his jaw clenches and he averts his gaze as soon as the candy hits your tongue. He remains standing but leans back against the elevator wall, hoping the cold metal against his sweaty t-shirt might have the same effect as a cold shower.

It doesn’t.

Two minutes later, you’re still quietly working on your candy cane while Bucky has gone absolutely rigid. He has the back of his head pressed against the wall now and he stares up at the ceiling actually wishing that the emergency brakes would fail and the elevator would go crashing down to put him out of his misery. Why does it take you so long to eat those damn things? And how the hell do you not realize what you’re doing? Are you that naïve?

“Are you okay, Bucky?” Your voice is the last thing he wants to hear. He doesn’t even make a move to look down at you, because the fact that you’re already on the floor at the level of his dick and the fact that he knows what you look like when you’re sucking on something you really like will only make this situation that much worse. His cock is already fully erect in his thin athletic shorts, painfully so. The only reason you haven’t noticed yet is because you’ve been distracting yourself with your little snack and because Bucky’s shorts are so dark.

“Fine.” He croaks the single syllable out in just the right way to let you know that he is in fact, not fine.

“Okay, what is it?” You demand to know. Did Tony skimp on having emergency brakes installed and Bucky knows your death is imminent? Is the big scary man secretly afraid of heights or small spaces? “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I said I’m fine.” Bucky repeats the words through clenched teeth. Who would’ve known that such a private man would be such a bad liar? You push yourself up off the floor now and stand to your feet, turning to face him head-on. You’re just about to threaten to stab him with your little candy cane remnant when your eyes land on what it is that’s got him so worked up. The bulge in the front of his shorts is on full display, pulling the seams of the fabric so tight that you imagine Bucky’s incredibly uncomfortable right now. But…why would he be so turned on in such a shitty situation? Is it the fear? The adrenaline?

“Bucky—”

“Stop fucking talking.” He cuts you off sharply, finally snapping his eyes open and meeting your gaze. Even in the dim lighting, you can see the frustration painted over his features.

“No, tell me what’s up with you.”

“We’re stuck in an elevator.” He says plainly, closing his eyes once more. He really does suck at communicating. Obviously, you can see that he’s aroused. He knows that you can see it, but he’s still standing here in front of you pretending like he isn’t. As you stare at the stubborn ass that you’ve just barely come to know over the past year, all you can think about is getting on your knees and sucking the bad attitude right out of him. Maybe that’s what he needs. He clearly needs something. However, the fact that he won’t simply speak his mind and instead chooses to act like a moody fifteen-year-old most of the time still irks you. You want him to open his damn mouth and speak.

“Look at me.” Your voice is so calm and even that Bucky immediately wonders what you’re up to, but he doesn’t open his eyes. You take two steps so you’re standing right in front of him, and then you repeat yourself. “Bucky, look at me.”

“What part of stop fucking talking doesn’t make sense to you?” He snaps, opening his eyes. When his gaze meets your face, he’s met with the sight of you, dragging your tongue along the side of that damn candy cane and he nearly cums right there. He’s thankful that you can’t have possibly seen the way his cock practically jumped in his shorts when his eyes landed on your tongue.

“It’s the part where you think you can mope around here constantly and treat people like shit that doesn’t make sense to me.” You suckle on the end of your candy cane for a short second before pulling it back out of your mouth and adding one bold part to your little tiff. “It’s also the fact that you’re standing here with a hard dick while simultaneously acting like you can’t stand me. That really doesn’t make sense to me.”

Bucky lets out a sound of annoyance at the way you’re matching his attitude. He’s especially annoyed that you actually mentioned his dick, but he’s a lot more focused on fighting the urge to reach out and snap your precious candy cane into a thousand tiny pieces. You see the way his eyes keep flitting to your mouth as you enjoy your candy. Honestly, once you see the look in his eyes and pair that with the huge tent in his shorts, you don’t know how you didn’t put it together before. Maybe it’s because you fear you could die in this elevator, or maybe it’s because you’ve always sort of wanted to know what it’d be like to have such a strong effect on a man like Bucky, but an idea pops into your head that you just can’t seem to shake. You want to make him tell you what he wants. You want to force him to communicate with you, and then you want to reward him with everything he needs. Besides just being an irresistibly hot idea, it’s also a sure way to keep you from thinking about the elevator plunging into the basement at any given moment. You both need this.

That’s what leads you to sink down to your knees at Bucky’s feet. He thinks he’s hallucinating at first, but when he hears your light little laugh as you pop the candy cane back into your mouth, he knows it’s real. Your pretty eyes stare right back up at him as you slowly pull the candy cane out of your mouth, keeping your lips pressed tightly around it.

“Fuck…” Bucky mutters, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he feels a fresh wave of heat rush through his body. You haven’t even touched him yet he feels like he could have an orgasm on the spot. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not? You don’t like this?” You tease. You push the candy cane past your lips once more but he’s refusing to look down at you, so you take matters into your own hands. You hold the candy cane with your left hand while your right hand lands lighly on Bucky’s thigh, dangerously close to where he needs your touch the most. He inhales sharply and snaps his head forward to look down at you again. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you to stop with the candy canes.” He says harshly, giving you an icy stare. You laugh, but you can’t deny that he actually communicated something. So, you remove your hand from his thigh and fix the wrapper around your candy cane as good as you can before leaning over to drop it back in your grocery bag.

“Was that so hard?” You ask, returning to your position on your knees at his feet. He lets out an exasperated sigh, wondering why the hell you’re not getting back up.

“Are you going to stay down there until the elevator starts up again?” He narrows his eyes at you. You shrug your shoulders.

“Until the elevator starts up again or until you tell me what you really need, whichever comes first I guess.”

“I told you already.”

“Right, but that wasn’t all you needed.” You point out. He watches as your eyes leave his face and coast down his neck and torso, until your gaze lands on the taut fabric of his shorts. You’re perfectly eye level with his hard-on and it’s not making this situation any easier on him. He feels his cock twitch again from the way you’re looking at him. He weighs his options in his head. How bad would it be for him to cross this line? To tell you how badly he needs you to suck his cock the way you’ve been sucking those candy canes the last couple of days? It couldn’t possibly be that bad if you’re already on your knees offering it. If anything, he can at least feel better knowing you crossed a line first. Besides, what if you two never make it out of here? He knows you will, people get stuck in elevators all the time and you rarely hear about it killing people. But, what if? He can’t deny himself this potentially one, final pleasure.

So, Bucky learns to communicate.

“Fix the problem you created.” Bucky’s stare is cold and calloused, but the way his chest rises and falls at a quickened pace and the way his pupils dilate as he looks down at you makes you feel powerful. You test the waters, sliding your palms from his knees up his thighs and then curling your fingertips beneath the waistband of both his shorts and boxers. He remains focused on you, not giving you indication that he wants you to stop. So, you tug his shorts and boxers down until his cock springs free, nearly slapping against his lower stomach as your drop his shorts to his feet. Your eyes are glued to his impressive length, taking in the way precum is beginning to drip down his shaft and the way his balls look so full and heavy between his legs. He’s growing impatient, wondering if you plan to sit there and stare at it or do what you really want to do to it. He’s just about to showcase his impatience with you when you reach up and wrap your right hand firmly around his cock, holding it with just the right amount of grip as you give it one long stroke from the base to the tip. You tighten your fist around the head and let his precum lubricate your palm before stroking back down to the base and spreading the wetness around his shaft. The way his head falls back against the wall makes you feel high. You like having this kind of power over him. You wonder how much more power you might have if you used your mouth, but why wonder? Leaning forward, you continue stroking his cock with your right hand while you plant your left hand on his thigh and press your lips to the tip.

“Shit.” The curse falls from his lips so freely that you can’t stop yourself. The next thing you know, his cock is sliding past your lips and the tip is brushing against the back of your throat as you nearly fully deepthroat his entire length. You only have an inch left to go but you aren’t sure you can fit it all. Bucky looks down and sees your hesitation. He knows he should’ve restrained himself. He knows he should’ve let you take this at your own pace, but he needed it. He needed to feel your throat tighten around his cock. He needed to see how fucking pretty you’d look with every inch of him in your mouth. So, Bucky gently placed his right hand on the back of your head and applied a little pressure. Just enough pressure to make you swallow the rest of his cock. As soon as he felt your nose brushing against his skin, he pulled you back by your hair. His eyes roam over your face now, checking in to see if you’re okay. Your eyes are wide but your pupils are blown with lust. Not only are you okay, but you’re on cloud fucking nine. With the tip of his cock still in your mouth, you nod up at him, letting him know it’s okay to do it again.

Bucky guides his cock into your mouth again, pulling your head closer and closer to him until he feels your throat tighten as you gag around his length. When he tries to pull you away this time, you grip both of his thighs and stare up at him so hungrily that he groans at the sight. You don’t want him to go easy on you, you want him to take what he needs. It’s only a second later that Bucky puts both of his hands on your head and holds you firmly in place as he begins thrusting his cock into your mouth. He’s slow and careful at first, trying not to give you more than you can handle. But the first time you moan around his shaft, slow and careful goes out the window. He fucks your throat, letting his balls rap against your chin with every deep thrust. The obscene sounds and the way you fight to maintain eye contact with him sends him straight to the edge of his release so much sooner than he expected.

“I’m gonna cum.” He rasps, praying that you won’t want him to pull out. Although, he could easily picture himself cumming all over your pretty face. Your only response is to grip onto his thighs even tighter while you look up at him so submissively. That’s all it takes. Bucky gives your mouth one more thrust and then holds your head in place, with your lips wrapped tightly around the base of his cock. You feel every drop of cum as it trickles onto your tongue and down your throat. After a few more seconds, Bucky releases your head and watches as you sit back on your knees, swallowing everything that he gave you. When you lick your lips he swears he could go for round two already.

“That was so much better than a candy cane, Bucky.”

TAG LIST: @gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @claireelizabeth85 @fandomsfeminismandme @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216 @wlkdead

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #12 days of smut

1K notes · View notes

ikaroux · 1 year

Text

How are they with their pregnant companion? Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus.

Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/partner is over the moon. But how would he take care of you during pregnancy?

Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader.

Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.

Alert: May contain story spoilers for some characters.

Characters: Capitano, Kaveh + 1 Bonus rewrite.

Note: Did you notice that with this series, I work by paragraph? I try to make a maximum of 14 paragraphs per character and 4 or 5 for the NSFW part. Did you know that a pregnant woman's sexual appetite actually decreases during pregnancy? But I assume that this is not the case for all women, and our genshin men are so sexy, how could we resist them?

Since I now have an AO3 account, I decided to rewrite the first versions of this series to post them on it. I hope you'll still enjoy them.

Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.

Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.

Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.

Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.

Part 5 Tighnari.

"No one is allowed to enter ma'am."

The Fatui guards blocked your way, preventing you from reaching your companion. "I must see Capitano, it's important." You tried your luck again, trying to force your way through, but the two men, clearly stronger than you, pushed you back as if you weighed nothing. One of them wrapped his hand around your arm, the iron grip he put on it making you wince in pain. "Our captain is not seeing anyone today." And he shoved you violently backwards, causing you to fall. "You brute! Let me in! I'm his fiancé!" The two men looked at each other for a few seconds before a loud laugh escaped from them. You looked at them with bewildered eyes, pondering what was funny about what you had said. The larger of the two was the first to calm down, stepping forward calmly before bending down to grab your already sore arm. He lifted you up violently, pulling you towards the exit. "Enough joking, get out where I should show more… Firmness." You were ready to scream in order to alert your lover, until a squeak from his colleague got your attention. The man manhandling you was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder and when he turned around, he could only see that his captain, your fiancé, was standing behind him, a menacing aura emanating from him. "Lo-Lord Capitano, this woman she-" Capitano's hand came down on his subordinate's wrist, applying a force to it that forced the soldier to release you. "Silence, wait for me here. We'll discuss what just happened later." The man shuddered, stepping aside to let Capitano pass as he gallantly guided you to his office. Once the two of you were alone, you threw yourself into his arms, thanking him for helping you. The man returned your embrace, caressing your back with great gentleness. "I'm sorry for what just happened. What are you doing here my sweet? You should have told me you were coming to see me." You smiled at him as you pulled away from his embrace. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your stomach with a bright smile on your face… "You'll be a father soon…" Capitano remained silent for a long time, his masked face still turned to his hands. O Tsaritsa, he was going to have to be much more cruel to the one who had abused you in front of his door. Capitano slowly removed his mask, exposing his battle-scarred features, and then lifted you off the floor, placing you on his incredibly tidy desk. He leaned in, placing kiss after kiss on your lips…

Capitano didn't want a child. War, fighting, the cruelty of this world and death were part of his daily life. But you changed his world. With you, he discovered love, the warmth of a home and the happiness of a family. He quickly imagined himself with his baby in his arms, although an illogical fear was born in his heart. It would be so small compared to him. Did his hands, covered in blood, have the right to touch such a frail and defenseless being? Fortunately, you were by his side to reassure him and guide him toward the future that awaited you both.

Unfortunately, your beloved captain often had to leave for missions entrusted to him by the Tsaritsa. He was never reluctant to leave to accomplish his duty, even if he had to go away from you… He missed you, no doubt, but Capitano was a committed man, faithful to the justice he believed in. But now that you were pregnant, every time he had to leave, his heart was heavy with sorrow. What if something happened to you while he was away? He would ask his superior, Pierro, to watch over you, even from a distance, so that he could leave with peace of mind.

Capitano was already very protective of you. Pregnancy has only strengthened this affectionate side that he usually hid from the world. Believe it or not, you don't want to know what he can do to those who want to hurt you…

When you both sleep, you have taken the habit of curling up against him. Capitano is a light sleeper, and the slightest movement puts him on alert. By the time sleep takes over, he will look at you for a long time, wrapping an arm around your waist and then touching your stomach. He could see that it had become slightly rounded. A peaceful smile spread across his face as he kissed your head resting on his chest with a sigh of contentment.

As soon as he has some time to himself, Capitano will gladly agree to do some shopping with you for the birth of the child. This tall man with an impressive build tended to stand out in the stores, especially since he refused to go out without his mask. However, you kept your cheerful nature, presenting baby clothes with a big smile on your face to your companion who stood beside you, one hand resting tenderly on your lower back, admiring your every move.

Capitano likes to position himself behind you to put his big hands on your belly. He may be content to stay that way, looking over your shoulder while you go about your business. Tender kisses on your neck and jaw will make you smile with amusement and tenderness as he caresses your lower belly, feeling at times the movements of his child…

A little habit that you both have developed: the bath. A privileged moment between the two of you, allowing you to enjoy the warmth and contact of your companion while Capitano savored the sight of your body transforming little by little. He was probably the one who enjoyed this intimacy the most, knowing full well that no one would come and disturb you. His tender and loving side came out wonderfully as he held you in his arms.

Capitano does not want to talk about you and his unborn child with other Harbingers. Other than Pierro, he doesn't trust others enough to keep you safe. He was not fooled about Pulcinella, the man hiding dark ambitions. Arlecchino was a manipulator with a heart of ice, a form of madness eating away at her. The rest of the executors were no better… Perhaps he could make an exception with the eleventh? He had never spoken to him, but he thought Tartaglia would probably be good advice with the children…

Your companion had a very soft, calm and steady voice. Every time he talked to you, you could feel the baby react to the sound of his voice. When you told him, Capitano just smiled, looking away from you. Was it a blush you could see on his ears?

Capitano will be less stingy with his tender words when he's alone with you. Your pregnancy seems to have softened him up a lot and he'll find it much easier to express his feelings towards you. Every "I love you" or "I missed you" he says will be a real treasure for you.

Capitano will be a strict but loving father. He will dedicate his life to his child and of course to you. He will do his best not to be a burden to his son/daughter, as his reputation as the strongest man in all of Teyvat may weigh down such small shoulders.

NSFW Bonus

Capitano would keep his distance from you to prevent his carnal needs from doing you more harm than good. He knew he was rough and sometimes a little mean when he couldn't control himself. Yet it was you who came to him, confessing that you needed him, that you wanted him. How could he resist you?

The doors of his office were still locked by one of you, leaving the field free for your fiancé to lie down on his desk, abruptly pushing on the floor anything that could have hurt you. Taking care to remove his mask before starting anything, his lips would find your mouth as soon as he was free of it. His hands greedily roamed your body, removing the clothes that were in his way. His eyes landed on your belly, which had quickly taken on a few curves, causing a glint of excitement to shine in his pupils. His hands slid tenderly over it, admiring the way your belly was inflating with each breath. It was his child growing inside you. He was the one who had made you pregnant. It made his member harder and harder every time he thought about it. Pulling gently on your legs, Capitano pressed himself against you, making you moan with anticipation as you felt the hardness in his pants against your you. He wanted to make you scream with pleasure, to let the guards outside his door know what he was doing to you and that you were his. No one would dare laugh at you again when you said you were his fiancé or that you were carrying his child.

Capitano wished he had been gentler with you, for fear of hurting his child. But his instincts told him otherwise… Still, he had asked a Fatui doctor for advice about your sexual relations. He was reassured when it was explained that there was no risk to the baby and that sex could even be beneficial in easing the delivery.

While his long fingers took their time preparing you to receive him, Capitano stood straight in front of you, watching your every reaction. Seeing you squirm on his desk, red and moaning at his ministrations made his member more painful than ever. He waited to make you cum on his fingers before slowly removing his sex from its fetters, his eyes never leaving your breathless form. Positioning himself at your entrance, Capitano took your knees between his hands, spreading your legs further apart before he began to thrust. He knew he was big, but you had always taken him without complaint. As soon as he felt your walls give way to his invasion, he immediately began to pound you with force, making his desk creak. Your screams of pleasure made him smile as he heard the murmurs of the guards behind his door. Ceasing to keep his distance from your lips, Capitano let go of your legs to bend toward you, careful not to crush your belly as he used his forearms to lean on the wood of the desk. With a muffled grunt, he kissed you, enjoying the feel of your hands pulling his ebony hair.

Capitano rarely moaned, but when he felt your orgasm tightening his member like a vise, he couldn't stop the pleasure he felt from vibrating his vocal cords. Instead of going slow to follow you, his thrusts became rougher, a dull growl escaping his throat each time he hit your hips. He clenched his fists as he felt his orgasm pouring into you. God, if you weren't already pregnant, he wouldn't have hesitated to do it again… But you were exhausted, the pregnancy taking all your energy. Capitano withdrew, taking the time to kiss your belly before lifting you up in his arms to lie on his couch. Covered by his long coat, you looked at him with loving eyes. You drew him to you, demanding his caresses and kisses. Capitano sighed against your lips, his heart beating with adoration for you.

"Pregnant!"

Kaveh inadvertently shouted through the streets of Sumeru, startling a few passersby as they went about their business. The architect inhaled sharply, grabbing your wrist to take you to a quieter place. Once out of sight, he took your face in his hands, plunging his beautiful gaze into yours. "Are you pregnant?" You smiled at him, tenderly wrapping a hand around his wrist before placing a light kiss on it. Kaveh couldn't believe his ears, his heart drumming in his chest as he seemed about to burst with happiness. Gently, he brought his face closer, pressing his forehead against yours, exhaling a shaky breath from his mouth. As he closed his eyes, a dreamy smile stretching his lips, Kaveh wondered how he had managed to survive so many years without you by his side. You were a blessing in his life, an angel fallen from heaven who offered him love and home. "Thank you my love. Thank you." Simple words in his mouth, yet loaded with emotion. You embraced him, celebrating your happiness to come.

Kaveh had moved in with you, leaving the hell of collocation with Alhaitham for boundless happiness with you. Although his shoulders were still weighed down by the astronomical debt of his latest masterpiece, Kaveh kept his head high, continuing to work hard on numerous projects to clear his debt. He didn't want his problems to cause you stress, especially during pregnancy…

Kaveh took care of everything at home. He would let you rest, especially when he heard you getting up at night to vomit… He would stay with you, holding your hair and helping you clean up afterwards. As soon as you returned to bed to go back to sleep, your companion would encourage you to lie down in his arms, stroking your forehead and hair until your eyes grew heavy.

Since Kaveh couldn't really afford to buy anything for you and your child, he decided to use his architectural skills. He will design and build with the help of Tighnari and Collei a crib and rocking chair and a whole lot of beautiful furniture for the baby's room.

As your belly gets rounder, Kaveh will make it a habit every morning to kiss your belly, saying a sweet "Hello" to his baby before getting up and kissing you tenderly.

Your partner will often offer you afternoons on your terrace. Comfortably seated on cushions, Kaveh would hold you between his legs, one hand on your belly while he read you the book of your choice. You could also just listen to him humming a Sumeru tune, savoring his lips on your scalp.

Alhaitham and Kaveh were "friends". Sure, it was a strange friendship, but the two supported each other in their own way. That's why you weren't surprised when Alhaitham knocked on your door, his face expressionless, holding a teddy bear in his arms… Kaveh looked at his friend with a strange grimace on his face and you couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was over tea that you were able to chat with Kaveh's friend, sharing with him your wishes for your child.

Arguments were rare in your relationship, but sometimes you felt like your hormones were getting the best of you. You could go from pure anger to tears of sadness after an argument. Kaveh understood your problem and always made sure to hug you, whispering in your ear that he was sorry and that he loved you…

The first time you called Kaveh to put his hand on your belly, the man was speechless as he felt his little one moving around inside. The following times, your companion could not help but tell his baby about his day or even complain about Alhaitham and the wise men or his mom who had gently scolded her for nonsense. With your ear pressed against you, your arms wrapped around your hips, you stroked his hair, rolling your eyes with an amused smile as you listened to your companion confess to your child.

Kaveh often told you that he wished it was a girl. He knew that little girls had a stronger bond with their fathers, especially at a young age. Of course, if you gave birth to a boy, he would spoil and cherish him just as much.

Every outing you took, Kaveh would stand by your side, protecting you from crowds and careless passersby who might inadvertently punch you in the stomach. If someone dared to push you around, the anger in Kaveh's voice and the strength he used to push the person away shocked you every time. Yet you were the one who calmed him down, reassuring him of your health by taking his hand and placing it on your stomach. "You see, our baby is fine." You said to yourself as your child was having fun doing somersaults. Kaveh sighed, calming his nerves before smiling and kissing your forehead apologetically. "I rather think he wants to defend his mother, like his father…" You laughed at his comment.

Between the two of you, Kaveh was definitely the one who was dreading the delivery the most. The closer the date got, the more the fear that the delivery would go wrong invaded his mind. He didn't want to lose you or the baby. His fear could be contagious, fortunately, it was your friends who reassured you. Alhaitham, Tighnari, Collei, Nilou, Layla and even Cyno. All of them promised you that everything would go well and that the doctors who would take care of you were used to deliver even the most difficult babies. This will not stop Kaveh from cuddling you every day, enjoying your closeness and warmth until the big day.

Kaveh will be a very loving and devoted father to his child. He loves to hold his baby in his arms, showing others how perfect his child was. He loves to kiss his chubby cheeks.

NSFW Bonus

Kaveh was the kind of man who was into romance. Whenever he wanted you, he made it clear in a roundabout way. Soft kisses on your lips, sensually running down your neck. Or soft words whispered in your ear as he slowly led you to your room decorated with flowers and some lit candles… But you were the opposite of him.

The first time you felt the irresistible urge to feel him inside you, you pulled him to your room, kissing him fiercely, drawing a surprised moan from his throat. Not having the time to grab your hips to avoid falling, you pushed him onto the bed, spreading him out beneath you. His shocked eyes stared at you as you straddled him, bending towards him to claim his mouth again. Kaveh felt like his body was boiling from the inside out as you wrapped your tongue around his, rubbing your hips against his pelvis. He could feel his member hardening at the sight of you, his eyelids closing sharply at the sudden invasion of desire. Was he allowed to have you while you were pregnant? In doubt, he gently pulled you away from him, slowly catching his breath before asking, "W-Wait, isn't this going to be dangerous for the baby?" He shuddered as you rolled your eyes before smiling at him, your hands clutching at your top to slowly remove it. Kaveh's eyes couldn't turn away from you as he admired your bare body. Hesitantly, he raised his hands to you, first caressing your round belly before moving higher, kneading your breasts free of your bra. He grunted when you moved your hips again…

Kaveh let you undress him, welcoming you into his arms once you were done. He liked to see you sitting on top of him, stroking his member against yours to coat it with your arousal. Kaveh closed his eyes tightly as he felt you slide down his member, his hands coming to rest on your hips to help you get off him. As soon as he opened his eyelids again, he felt his cheeks heat up sharply at the sight of your flushed face, his eyes closed by the feeling of pure happiness that overwhelmed you. To see you in this state, with his member buried in you and the round belly of his child made him mad with desire.

Kaveh took you by surprise when he tightened his grip on your hips, using his feet as a fulcrum to start penetrating you hard. It was not in his habit to behave like this, usually preferring gentle sex. But his sudden brutality made you scream with excitement. Kaveh had never felt this way. Desire was running through his head as he concentrated on the pleasure he was feeling as he pounded into you with force. The noises you were making were making him dizzy and when you called out his name, begging for more, Kaveh knew he was lost. Turning suddenly, careful that nothing hurt your stomach, your lover grabbed your knees, pinning them in the crook of his arms. Despite the haze of desire that prevented him from thinking properly, Kaveh was still careful that the position was not uncomfortable for either you or the baby. As soon as he got your go-ahead, he started pounding you again with rigor.

Kaveh never held back his moans, openly expressing the pleasure he felt when he made love to you. He knew it turned you on to hear him moan your name, your own voice getting louder every time he panted in your ear. He whispered to you how good it felt, how much he loved you and how happy you made him. Sweating, Kaveh slowly felt his end approaching as your walls began to tighten around him. As your screams became more and more high pitched, he applied more force in his thrusts to help you reach your orgasm. Your name came out of his mouth in a final moan as he felt himself coming at the same time as you. His hips slowed their rhythm until they stopped completely. Kaveh slowly separated from you, falling down beside you, out of breath and exhausted… Gradually regaining his senses, he started to sit up to see how you were doing before being interrupted by your hand pushing him back against the bed. A smile was frozen on his lips as he watched you straddle him again, a smug expression on his face. God, you were insatiable and terribly sexy as he watched your hand slowly caress your belly until it fell on his member… He felt that the next few months of pregnancy were going to be a real physical ordeal for him…

"Diluc I… I'm pregnant."

Diluc dropped the quill he used for signing several contracts with Fontaine's clients, staining the papers beneath. His round eyes stared at you as he kept his mouth slightly open. You could see his hands trembling as he backed up in his chair, clearly frightened by your admission. He could feel the world spinning around him, dizziness clouding his ability to think. He didn't understand how this could have happened, knowing that you were both protecting each other. You were everything to him, his life, his heart, his world, and now you were giving him a child. He was happy but also so scared… Yes, Diluc was afraid. Scared of losing you. Scared of hurting you. Scared of… Not being a good father. He had never known his mother, who died at birth, and his father, whose sudden and violent death left him with deep scars in his heart. What if the same thing happened to you as to his mother? Or if Diluc suffered the same fate as his father? He couldn't bear it… He would never forgive himself, even in death. Your lover gasped when he felt your fingers gently caress his cheek, taking him away from the dark thoughts that were invading his mind. "Diluc, darling calm down." - You cuddled his cheekbones, then his ear, before tangling your fingers in his hair and pressing his forehead against yours. The gentleness in your eyes calmed his doubt-ridden heart and he finally allowed himself to breathe peacefully. - "You will be wonderful. You always have been." - His hands had stopped shaking as he took yours in his. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. The fear had left him. Happiness was right there in front of his eyes, he loved you so much and he will love this little being that you both had created just as much.

Diluc has always been very considerate and gentle with you. And he was even more so since your pregnancy. Every word, every caress he offered you made you feel like you were falling in love with him all over again.

During your seventh week of pregnancy, the problems associated with it became more and more complicated to bear, often forcing you to lie in your marital bed with a cold cloth over your eyes. The pain pounding in your head and nausea were especially bad in the morning. Although Diluc had a lot of work to do, he stayed by your side, moving your head to his thighs to massage your temples and forehead. He hated seeing you in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it. So he asked some friends what could help you with your nausea. Lisa advised him to make you a ginger drink, which was well within Diluc's capabilities.

Your companion has always been a protective man. Too protective. You knew he had deep-seated fears about you, and the thought of anything happening to you while he was away terrified him. Of course, you weren't going to complain about spending more time with him, but you didn't want him to put aside his business or nightly duties for you. So you gently scolded him, reminding him that you weren't made of sugar, just pregnant. With a tender smile, you kissed him, promising him that you would take care of yourself while he was away.

You stopped counting the number of times Diluc put his hands on your belly, savoring the curves that were gradually taking shape. He loved to caress it while he held you close. It was a warm and intimate moment, taking advantage of the private time between you to bury his face in your neck and kiss you. Most of the time he kept his eyes closed, imagining your life when the baby was born. That reality took on a clearer shape in his brain when he felt his baby move against his hands for the first time. Tears welled up in his eyes, wondering if it was possible for him to be happier.

As soon as sleep came, Diluc, who tended to fall asleep later, would lie down next to your belly, placing tender kisses on it before whispering sweet nothings to his baby. "I'll protect you and mom.", "I love you both so much." His baby would respond positively to his voice, pressing against your belly to form a small bump. Diluc would smile, responding to his child by stroking that spot.

Diluc had gotten into the habit of helping you support the weight of your belly when you went out. He could see that it was getting harder and harder for you to stand, so whenever he could, Diluc would go behind your back, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your hips. His large hands would reach under your belly, helping you support the baby's weight. Who cares if people looked at him, didn't he have the right to support his wife? Plus, it made it easier for him to kiss you, his lips brushing your shoulder, neck and jaw with tenderness before whispering his love for you.

Your husband was an excellent cook, and although Adelinde was the one who did most of the cooking, Diluc wanted to prepare it for you personally. He insisted on using only the best produce, even going so far as to have the fruits and vegetables he needed planted in the estate gardens. This man loved to shower you with affection, which is why he would bring you a beautifully flowered tray to bed every morning, with a dish he had specially prepared on top.

Diluc didn't care if his child was a boy or a girl, he only cared that it was healthy and safe. The fear of childbirth had never left him, and as the due date approached, the fear gripped his heart. He vowed to stay by your side and hold your hand during the birth, making sure to call on the best doctors and midwives in all of Mondstadt to accompany you through this ordeal.

When you reached the eighth month of pregnancy, Diluc caught you looking at yourself half-naked in front of the mirror, studying your round belly as he slowly ran a hand over it, his lips stretched by your sweet smile. Diluc admired the scene, his eyes shining with love. The baby would be here soon and he thought, seeing you like this, that you would be an incredible mother. Diluc silently approached, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his hands on yours. His eyes stayed on your reflection as he felt you melt further into his embrace. Diluc sighed, happy and content.

Upon learning of your pregnancy, Kaeya had decided to spend more time at the Dawn Winery, trying to ease Diluc's shoulders by being with you. This was difficult at first, as there was always an icy coldness between them. But as the weeks went by, the two men began to speak cordially to each other. You could sometimes see them smiling at each other as they talked about the baby and how Kaeya would be the best uncle in Teyvat. The gifts he gave for your child always ended up in the baby's future room. A stuffed animal that resembled an owl would wait warmly in the crib for the arrival of the Ragnvindr offspring.

Sometimes Diluc was forced to leave the manor late because a source told him of abyssal mages, Fatui, or bandits lurking around his lands. For your safety, Diluc would put on his Darknight hero outfit and go hunting. Even though you were asleep most of the time, Diluc would always offer you and the baby a kiss and an "I love you both" before he left. He would do so as quickly as possible, reluctant to leave you alone in the manor with only a few maids unable to defend you in case of attack. Fortunately, and Diluc knew this, the source of his information, specifically Kaeya, was keeping a close eye on the Dawn Winery.

Diluc would be a very gentle and loving father. His heart warmed every time he held his baby close. It was a little being that seemed so fragile in his arms. The first time he held him, tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at him in silence, becoming more emotional as his baby's tiny hand wrapped around his finger. He vowed inwardly to do everything he could to protect his family.

Bonus NSFW:

Diluc was amazed at how much you'd been craving sex since you were pregnant. Even though your sex life had always been full, with Diluc satisfying your needs to perfection, you now sometimes went to him more than once during the day to ask for his help, pulling his tie to lure him into your bedroom. His cheeks were flushed with excitement as he obediently allowed himself to be dragged along by you. Once in the privacy of your room, Diluc locked the door, pinning you against it. His lips, eager for you, crushed against your mouth with desperate force, while his hands grabbed your knees to lift you up. Wrapping your legs around his hips, Diluc took advantage of having his hands free to grab your ass, allowing him to press his growing erection against your folds. Moaning against his lips, you savored the languid movements of his hips against you…

Diluc thought back to the first time you'd made love since you were pregnant. He had been so afraid of hurting you that he had just made you cum on his fingers and tongue, completely ignoring his needs. The second time, you reassured him that the baby was safe, that he could enter you without any problems. You didn't have to say it twice. Now there he was, holding you against the door, struggling to get your clothes off. Archon, he felt so insatiable! Already this morning he had woken you up with his mouth and fingers, waiting patiently for your eyes to open and asking for more…

At first, Diluc went slowly with you, treating you like glass that would shatter at the touch of his fingers. His back and forth was sensual as his fingers happily caressed your belly. He can't help but kiss you, his tongue wrapping around yours. His hands roamed your body with passion, enjoying the softness of your skin against his palms.

Now that your clothes were on the ground, he didn't bother to remove his own, simply unzipping the front of his pants and then pulling down his underwear to free his member. Lord, you were already ready for him, he didn't even have to prepare you with his fingers. Was it the pregnancy that made you like this? He'd never admit it, but he loved feeling you so in love with him as he was with you. With one of his arms still holding you firmly in place, Diluc used his free hand to position his sex at your entrance, penetrating the tip first before slowly working his way in. His gentle back and forth movements made you see the stars and as soon as he hit bottom, his movements stopped, probably waiting for his breathing to calm down. The pleasure was so great that his body trembled against you. His soft grunts against your ear drove you wild with excitement as you felt Diluc press you closer to him, melting you into his embrace. He left no space between the two of you, allowing himself to feel your little round belly against his abs. His shirt prevented him from fully feeling your body against his, and he cursed himself inwardly for his impatience. Slowly, his hips began to roll against you, making you moan his name against his ear. Diluc kept his jaw firmly clenched, occasionally hissing with pleasure as he felt your walls tighten around him. It felt so good that he had to hold back hard to keep from cumming immediately. He hadn't even begun to come properly… As he languidly rolled his hips against you, his face hidden in your hair, he heard your pleas against his ear. Faster. Harder. This is what you wanted. Well, then he would grant your wishes. Grabbing your buttocks more firmly, Diluc began to penetrate you hard and fast, making you scream his name. Archon, he could feel your nails scratching at his back, and despite the pain, it excited him more. The door creaked with his pounding and he was sure all his employees were aware of your lovemaking. But he would have time to worry about that later, continuing to pound you, being careful not to hit your belly. He rarely got to a point where he couldn't control his own sounds, but it was when he felt completely lost in you that his moans got louder, more ferocious with each swing of his hips. His sex ached as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, feeling your orgasm approaching. He let a loud grunt escape him as your walls tightened around him.

He savored the feel of your hands on his shoulder blades, on his neck and in his hair, feeling the love and passion of your actions. He came inside you, again and again, going straight back to the assault when he was done. Since you were pregnant, the urges he once managed to control were now overpowering his reason. He wanted you and your lustful looks didn't encourage him to calm down. He was going to satisfy you in the best way possible, as many times as necessary and for as long as you would let him.

4K notes · View notes

buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation (male)

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Wrote this on my phone lol sorry for any potential errors. Just wanted to get a little smutty post out there. Also - thanks for nearly 400 followers in just over one week of starting this blog! I’m so happy 🥲 Enjoy!

“Hey. Are you listening?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes, breaking you out of your reverie. You blinked in embarrassment as Natasha scowled at you playfully.

“Seriously though, did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” you confessed sheepishly.

Her eyes followed your line of sight, landing on a certain Bucky Barnes.

“Ah. You started writing ‘Mrs Bucky Barnes’ across your notepads yet?”

You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You supposed that one would have to be blind not to notice the goo-goo eyes you gave Bucky all the time whenever he was in the vicinity.

He had arrived at the compound just a few months ago, settling in to his new reformed life away from his history as the Winter Soldier. Steve did his best to help him adjust, and from what you could tell, he was fairly quiet and kept to himself.

“He’s kind of exactly my type,” you confessed to Natasha quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“I see. You like a guy with a high body count, huh.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed, slapping her arm as she snickered at the double entendre. “Not funny.”

“Hey, he gave me this.” Natasha yanked up her top, showing off her scar just above the hipbone. “I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

You grumbled in response as Natasha leant closer, cocking an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I really need you to help me run some analysis on this equipment we picked up from…”

You shuffled through the compound hallways, a stack of files in your arms. You rounded a corner sharply, almost colliding with a tall, dark figure who sidestepped you neatly.

“Jesus Christ!” Though a collision had been avoided, you squawked in shock nonetheless, promptly dropping the files onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” Bucky said, quickly kneeling down to collect them.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you floundered, cheeks flushing red. He straightened up and stacked the files on your arms neatly, his long fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. His eyes met yours as he offered you a half smile, the corners of his lips quirking up.

His irises were a gorgeous, gray blue, and you silently noted that you had never been stood so close to him before. He smelt so good, and he looked even better in his tight tactical gear.

“Thank you,” you stuttered, wanting to kick yourself at how ruffled you sounded. The effect this man had on you was unfair.

“You’re welcome…” he paused deliberately, and you offered your name to him eagerly. He repeated it, and you loved the way the syllables sounded on his tongue.

“See you around,” he said casually before he strode off again, leaving you a flustered mess in the hallway.

Okay, at least step one was accomplished - he finally knew your name, even if he might not remember it.

You sighed, knowing your little schoolgirl crush was going to be the death of you.

Bucky lay in bed that night, as he did most nights since coming to the compound, with his hands down his pants.

He liked to start off slow, usually. On the odd occasion, he would want it fast, his hands working overtime on his cock as he showered, water streaming over his body as he pumped himself to completion. He would cum hard each time, bracing himself against the shower tiles, your name on his lips.

But usually he liked to take his time. Enjoyed painting a picture in his mind, a mental porno in which you were the star.

God, you had been so fucking cute today. Bucky loved watching you squirm, seeing you blush, practically see the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He had playfully orchestrated the encounter in the hallway, able to smell your subtle perfume with his elevated senses (it had the smell of vanilla and sakura blossoms) as you power walked through the compound.

He was delighted when you practically unravelled in front of him just from a simple stare and a sweep of his fingers. He wondered what you would be like if he ever got you in front of him, naked, ready to take his cock.

His hand palmed his semi-hard erection as he settled back against the pillows, eyes closed. He teased himself, fingers gently tapping his dick, pulling slightly at his balls.

Your face was fixed in his mind. He recalled your wide, shocked eyes, your mouth open in a small ‘O’ as you gasped.

He imagined that mouth stretching wider, tongue lolling out, asking to suck his cock. You would be on your knees as he stood over you, feeding his dick into your warm cavern, and you would take as much as you could like a good girl. So eager to please.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky hissed, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and freeing himself completely.

His cock was heavy and thick as it lay against his stomach, twitching slightly as his mind filled itself with the most lewd images of you.

Of course he knew your name. He had asked Steve for it after the first few times he’d spotted you, playing it off as a casual inquiry.

He moaned it now as he dragged drops of his pre-cum down his shaft, wishing it was your hands that was wrapped around his length.

Somehow he found it thrilling, the idea of you believing that he had no clue who you were. He wondered what your reaction would be if you could see him now, rendered a horny, sweaty mess as he masturbated to thoughts of you and only you.

He imagined you spread out in front of him, legs wide, panting and begging for him to fuck your tight pussy. He would slap the head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it against your wet folds, teasing.

In reality, he knew that if he ever found himself in that position, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, he’d be the one begging you to let him fuck you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Bucky grunted, his hand beginning to move at a steady tempo. If he went too fast, he would definitely cum within seconds, and he wanted to make this last.

He imagined being able to fondle your soft breasts, imagined being able use his mouth on your nipples, wanting to suckle on your tits. He imagined being allowed to kiss every inch of your body, from your toes, up the inner thighs, through the valley of your breasts and to your lips.

He would kiss you with passion and fire, tongue searching yours, wet and hot and needy. He would cup his hand behind your neck, fuck into you slowly and make you moan his name into his mouth.

He tried to imagine how that would sound like, high pitched and breathy.

“Beg for me,” Bucky said aloud, his hand moving up and down his cock as he fantasised about it moving in and out of your cunt instead. “God, beg me to cum inside you.”

He bet your soaking pussy would feel ten times better than jerking off alone in his room, but for now, this was the best he could get. He imagined rutting into you, hard, watching you shake under him as you became undone.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, princess?” He groaned, feeling himself reach the edge. He could see you in his mind, touching your own clit, pleasuring yourself as Bucky’s fat cock disappeared inside you over and over and over again.

You would beg for him to breed you, to fill you up, that sweet mouth speaking the filthiest words.

“Ah - ah fuck, I’ll give it to you, you’re taking it all like a good girl,” Bucky gasped, his hand clenching around his thick, veiny cock before he released all the pent up sexual frustration inside.

Creamy, hot ropes of cum spurted out, onto his stomach. He steadily stroked himself through the high, imagining you crying out as you orgasmed, imagining you being filled up with his seed.

He envisioned how it would look as he continued to thrust, you letting yourself be used, whimpering at the over stimulation.

Bucky was breathing rapidly, body finally going lax as his sticky hand released his softening cock. His heart was beating rapidly as he licked his lips, sighing longingly.

One day, he thought, almost a prayer, one day I’ll get to see what you look like when you cum.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky smut #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #Bucky x you smut #Bucky x you PWP

4K notes · View notes

obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

Protect you

John Egan X Pilot!Reader

Summary: When a woman is thrown into Bucky's cabin. He feels the need to protect her.

Warning: Mention of rape/ touching without consent/ use if Y/n/ violence/ blood/ mention of death/ Swearing/ mention of concentration camps/ choking (not in a sexual way)/ guns/

Word count: 2.9k

A/n: I might be a little drunk writing this and tried, so if there's any mistake, sorry :)

The door opened violently, all the men stood from their chairs, confused of the situation. 4 German soldiers entered their shelter. ‘’She’s yours, have your fun with her, she’s your roommate!’’ One of them exclaimed as a woman was thrown on the floor. She moaned in pain as her body hit the wooden floor. ‘’Suck my dick’’ she said, with all the energy she had left. One of the youngest German took the comment personally, walked forward and kicked the injured woman in the stomach. She groaned in pain, but started to laugh, she was tired, in pain and found it funny that the soldier took her comment personally. Bucky was the first to react to the unnecessary beating of the woman, he looked at the Germans. ‘’Dumme Schlampe’’ One of the soldiers said in his mother tongue. He called the woman a stupid bitch as they left the cabin. The woman was agonizing on the floor, her face was full of blood, her lips were cut, her left eyebrow was open and severely bleeding. Her right cheek was open, the wound was about 6 centimeters, her hair was a total mess. They were stained with blood. Bucky looked at her body, her cloths were ripped, but not everywhere, mostly at her breast and her stomach, her pants were at her knees, showing that the soldiers did things he didn’t want to think about. The smell of blood filled the small cabin, Bucky saw bruises on her body, he saw them where her cloths were ripped and allowed him to see her skin, he didn’t want to imagine the state of the skin he couldn’t see. Her vision was blurry from all the hit she took, but she could see that men were coming towards her to help her. ‘’We’re going to take care of you, you’re safe’’ one of them said, but she couldn’t see who it was. Her breath was short and ragged, she probably had broken ribs.

She didn’t know what day it was, nor how many time she was out. The only thing she knew was that her head was hurting like a bitch. ‘’Welcome back’’ one man said. She sat on the bed, it was painful for her, but she wanted to sit. She touched her head and hissed when she touched one of her wounds. ‘’How long was I out?’’ she asked with a raspy voice, it was like that because her vocals cords were injured when an officer almost choked her to death. ‘’2 days, we cleaned your wounds the best we could’’ a blonde said. ‘’Thank you, I’m Major Y/n Hughes, 319th, WASP division’’ she introduced herself. Bucky was surprised to see a woman being a pilot and being the same rank as him. ‘’Wasp?’’ one of the guys said. ‘’Woman Airforce Service Pilot’’ Bucky and Y/n said at the same tine. He had heard of the program, he thought it was great and pretty badass. ‘’What did they do to you?’’ A man sitting at the end of the table asked. ‘’Isn’t it obvious?’’ she said sarcastically. ‘’Come on, Crank, you can’t ask that’’ the blonde said. ‘’I’m Major Gale Cleven, 100th, but you can call me Buck’’ the blonde introduce himself. ‘’Major John Egan, call me Bucky’’ the brunette said. The woman smirked. ‘’Your Buck, and he’s Bucky?’’ she stated, confused. ‘’It’s a long story’’ The guy named Crank said. Her hole body was hurting, every move she made was painful for her. ‘’Did they, y’a know, touch you’’ Buck gave a death stare to Hamilton. ‘’I don’t remember, it’s all a blur. My plane crashed in the middle of nowhere, but next thing I know, I’m surrounded by Germans, they must’ve hit me, because when I wake up, I’m in the cell. Then they take me to see a really annoying man. He asks me questions about my girls, if I’m married, what was our target.’’ The man nod, they all went through the same process. ‘’I do as I was told Name, rank, serial number. When they got enough of me, they threw me in this train with other soldiers. Then I come here, but when I walked, Germans punched me, a dog bit my pants, or my leg, can’t remember.’’ The next part was too painful for her to say out loud. She looks at her cloths, they’re not the same she had on when she came in. ‘’We gave you spare cloths, since yours were ripped’’ Buck explains. Y/n nods. ‘’Thank you for what you did’’ she smiles.

She’d just fallen asleep when the door got violently opened. German soldiers were shouting, Y/n’s eyes were half closed when one of the guars pulled her out of bed. ‘’Got her!’’ the men holding her yelled. Bucky woke up to the sound of a thud, when he opened his eyes, he saw Y/n being dragged on the ground by two soldiers. He quickly woke the others up; the sound of a siren came to his ears. Y/n was trying to wrestle the German guards, but one of them hit her, again. A message came through the camp’s speakers. ‘’All men round up! Right now!’’ they wanted them in their place, just like they inspected their room, but tonight they weren’t doing that. The snow on Y/n’s body was cold, she was being dragged in front of the man, the two men pulled her to her feet, she looked around her, two dogs were barking. She looked at Bucky and Buck, they were in the second row. ‘’Sorry for waking you up, gentleman, but we wanted to introduce you to this whore!’’ One of the Germans General said. ‘’I got a bad feeling about this, Buck’’ Bucky whispered to his friend. The hand of the General went on Y/n throat, slowly closing around it, preventing her from breathing normally. She started to choke. His other hand started to open the blouse she had on, exposing her chest. ‘’You see, she thinks she’s a pilot, but she can’t escape what she really is. A ball emptier. Just another hole for us to fill, a baby machine. She should’ve stayed in the kitchen. Look at her!’’ he exposed her fully. A tear rolled down her cheek. Bucky was fuming, he wanted to stop this madness, but if he moved, he would het shot. ‘’Stay calm, I’m as furious as you, but don’t do anything stupid’’ Buck whispered, sensing him friend’s anger. The American soldiers felt bad for the woman, some of them even fought with WASP at their side. Y/n tried to resist, but the grip the soldiers had on her was too strong for her. The General came closer to her face, trying to kiss her, but she decided to bite his lower lip as hard as she could. The taste of blood filled her mouth, but it wasn’t hers. He exclaimed in pain, the men that was holding her throat tighten is grip. Y/n was smirking at the General, he was holding his lip in pain. With fury, he slapped her face. ‘’Is that all you got?’’ Y/n pushed her tongue against her inner cheek as she looked up at the General. Bucky was proud of her for defending herself, but he was also scared of what was going to happen to her. ‘’You fucking bitch!’’ the General walked towards her, ready to beat her up, but an officer stopped him. Y/n took the time to hide her breast from the men, she closed her blouse and looked at the General. ‘’That’s enough, Rolf!’’ he warned the general. The General named Rolf didn’t care, he took Y/n and lift her on her feet. He gave her another punch, but this time, Y/n spitted the blood in her mouth on him. Before Rolf could hit her again, a soldier pushed her into the crowd. He thought the men were aroused by seeing her chest, but they weren’t, they were happy she got thrown at them, they were going to protect her. Bucky and Buck catches her, immediately putting an arm over her, as a sign of protection. Rolf was fuming, but the other Germans were telling him to calm down. ‘’It’s not a concentration camp, Rolf! You can’t do that here! You’re drunk, go to bed!’’ his superior yelled at him. Y/n smirked, seeing him getting yelled at made her chuckle. Bucky made sure she was okay, she was bleeding, but it wasn’t that bad, it was her neck that was worse. It was now dark purple; it was going to be bruised for a long time. ‘’Everyone back to your cabin! NOW!’’ the officers yelled. The two men supported her as they made their way back to their wooden prison.

‘’You got balls, I’ll give you that’’ Crank said as Y/n sat on a wooden chair. ‘’I wasn’t going to let him disrespect me like that’’ she chuckled, but her throat hurts her. She gently puts a hand on it, it’s warm and really sensitive. ‘’Are you okay?’’ Buck asked her, handing her a glass of water. She thanked him with a small nod. ‘’It’s not the first time he touched me like that, he did it when I came here, earlier, but yeah, I think I am’’ she said, taking a sip of water. ‘’That piece of shit touched you before?’’ Bucky asked, taking a seat in front of her. ‘’He did more than touching’’ she whispered. Bucky wanted to kill this man, he wanted to rip his head off and put it on a stick to plant in front of the camp. ‘’I’m heading to bed’’ Crank said, Buck and others following him. Bucky stayed with Y/n. The only light came from a candle. She took a deep breath and looked at the man in front of her. ‘’I’m sorry, I wanted to help you, but – ‘’ she cut him off. ‘’You could’ve been shot, I understand’’ she said, putting her hand on top of his. Bucky looked at their hands, then he looked at her face. Even though she had wounds, she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, and this rage that she had inside of her intrigued him, he wanted to see the full potential of it on a German soldier. ‘’You know, I, uh, we, uh, you could sleep next to, uh, me. If they come back, they’d have to het though me before they can hurt you again’’ Buck stuttered. Y/n blushed, even though it didn’t show from all the blood on her face. She smiled to the man and nodded. ‘’Thank you, Bucky.’’ She said, with a smile. ‘’It’s normal, I won’t let these guys hurt you again’’ he replied, smiling too. ‘’Let’s get to bed’’ he said, blowing on the candle. He led Y/n to his bed, letting her in first, then laying down next to her. ‘’Good night, Bucky’’ she gently said. ‘’Good night, Y/n’’ he replied. At that moment, he made a promise to himself, that he’ll protect her, at all costs.

It had been 2 months sine Y/n arrived at the camp, she grew closer to Bucky, he was charming and kept his promise, he never let anyone hurt her. The warm wind of June blew in her hair as she looked at Buck ordering the men to pull. They were doing a thing with a tree, and it was complicated. ‘’Guys! Who wants to play baseball?’’ Bucky asked as he walked towards the man. Y/n looked up at him, he lost weight, they all did. ‘’ Bucky, we’re a little busy’’ Buck replied. The brunette was annoyed, he was starting to lose his mind. Y/n started to develop feeling for the Major, after all, he was the nicest person around. Buck was nice to her too, but Bucky was just so caring; always making sure she’s okay, that no one messes with her and saving some of his food to give to her, because he doesn’t want her to starve. ‘’Ah come on, Buck, I’ll let you win!’’ he pleaded his case. ‘’I’ll play with you’’ Y/n offered. Bucky looked at the woman, she looked magnificent, her skin was a little tan, she spent a lot of time outside. ‘’Alright, but hey! Let’s go on a walk’’ he offered the woman his arms. ‘’Don’t get too close to the gates’’ Buck joked, but it was enough to send Bucky over the edge. ‘’Why the fuck would you say that?’’ he turned to look at his best friend. ‘’Bucky, it was just a joke’’ Buck said with a calm voice. Bucky walked towards his friend, but the fight he was about to start was stopped with the sound of a gun. Y/n flinched as she looked at the location where the sound came. Bucky instantly looked at the woman, making sure she was okay. ‘’They shot Henry!’’ other men yelled. Y/n put a hand in front of her mouth, she’d seen men getting shot before, but here, the Germans were merciless. They didn’t care who they shot, nor why they pulled the trigger. Bucky watched with horror as the body of Henry got carried away by two men. ‘’Everyone, in their cabin!’’ a SS yelled. Since Brits escaped, the security was more intense. ‘’Rain check on that walk’’ Y/n tried to smile while saying her sentence. Bucky nodded as they made their way back to their cabin.

She was going crazy, since the Germans broke their hand-made radio, she’s been determined to build another one. ‘’Shit! It doesn’t fucking work!’’ she slammed her hand against the table, it was the third time she tried to make another radio. ‘’I don’t understand what we’re doing wrong!’’ Buck exclaimed. He’d been helping her building it. ‘’It’s useless, if I can’t build a fucking radio, there’s no way I’m getting out of here!’’ she rested her elbows on the table, putting her head in her head. ‘’Don’t say that I’m getting you out of here, with or without a radio’’ Bucky stepped in. She looked at him as she let out a sign. She smiled to him and continue to work on the radio. Hamilton was scraping wood, to shape it as an airplane. Y/n got an idea. ‘’Give me that!’’ she got up and snatched the piece he used out of his hand. ‘’Something must be in the way of the wire, glue or something’’ she began to scrape the radio, then she brought the headphone to her ear. She heard something, it was in German, so changed the frequence. ‘’I got it, the BBC’’ she exclaimed as she passed the headphone to Buck. He confirmed what the woman said, making the men smile. ‘’You did it!’’ Bucky hugged her and spun her around the room. Buck was surprised of his best friend, but only chuckled. They both make eye contact; it’s filled with joy and hope. They go in the other room; they don’t want to make too much noise and stop Buck from hearing important information. ‘’You built another radio! That was amazing!’’ he whispers. Y/n blushes and smiles, Bucky’s compliments were always sweet. ‘’Thank you’’ she replies. They maintain eye contact, but another emotion joins the mix: attraction. Y/n breath are quicker, and her pupils are dilated. Bucky takes a step forward, being closer to the woman. ‘’Can I kiss you?’’ he breaths out. Y/n can only nod, next thing she know, their mouth come clashing together. His lips are soft and gentle, not like the rough kiss she was forced to get by the General. It was a quick kiss, but just enough to make them giggle after, like teenagers. ‘’I –‘’ he was cut off the by the sound of a gun sound outside. ‘’Rolf, come back here!’’ they heard the guard’s yell. The general was drunk again, which meant he was coming in their cabin. It was his habit, when he got drunk, he wanted to see Y/n, to try to do horrible things to her. When the boys understood, they quickly found a way to prevent him to come inside. This time, he had a gun in his hands. ‘’I’m going to kill that bitch’’ he yelled.

Even the German guards weren’t comfortable with the General’s doings. Buck told the men to bring the table in front of the door, to make obstacles. They held the table, that prevent the General from entering the cabin. Y/n looked at Bucky, fear was in her eyes. ‘’I’m not going to let him hurt you, not now’’ he smiled. That reassured Y/n a little bit. But when Buck failed to hold the door, Rolf came in the cabin, looking for Y/n, she was hiding behind Bucky, they were near the doorframe. ‘’Wo zum Teufel bist du, ich bringe dich um!‘‘ He was asking where she was, and he swore that he was going to kill her. Y/n was afraid, she didn’t want to die. ‘’Don’t worry, I have a plan’’ Bucky whispered. When Rolf came in the room, Bucky punched him in the jaw, instantly knocking him out. German officers came rushing in the cabin. ‘’Normally, you should be killed for this, but I’m going to close my eyes on this one, it’s the first and last time, understood?’’ said a German soldiers. He understood that Bucky only protected the woman, that’s why they didn’t shoot him. Rolf was removed from the cabin to Y/n relief. ‘’I can’t thank you enough, Bucky, from the beginning, you’ve protected me’’ she said. ‘’A kiss would be a nice reward’’ he smirked. The woman rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘’That would be one of the things I could do to thank you’’ she teased as she pressed her lips on Bucky’s. Her protector, her lover, her pilot. He was going to be a lot of things for her, he just didn’t knew it, yet…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #john egan x reader #john egan x female reader #john bucky egan #major john egan #john egan #john egan imagine #master of the air imagine #master of the air #masters of the air #austin butler #gale cleven #gale buck cleven

194 notes · View notes

gildedkrone · 8 months

Note

Ooh. Enemies to lovers but the roles reverse....like what if Reader is working with Shadow Company and Ghost is angsty...before, after or during the mission where Graves betrays them maybe???

I also gotta say the last one you did was so beautifully painful and I love it. 😂

- ☁️

Love doth grow in the shadows

I'm not the proudest over this fic but I hope its what you asked for and yes, I am giving this a happy ending because I'm a good boy.

Relationships: Ghost x Male Reader Synopsis: Shadow soldier you couldn't possibly be with him. Years later, you meet him again. A/N: Written to cardigan by Taylor. Master List

Your heart is his. It was never meant to be his, you know that clearly. Nothing was ever meant to be yours or his. Infiltrating the 141 was easy; you with your charms and quips made you a hit with Gaz and Soap. Your experience made you a hit with Price and eventually, with Ghost.

You think you would be closest with Soap and his antics, ever funny and outgoing but he draws your attention greedily. The masked lieutenant, Ghost is stoic but you find him to be a rock in sea of nerves. Steady as ever and a presence to be reckoned, he is the stability you’ve never had growing up.

And how generous he was with it. He doesn’t say much but his presence is all encompassing. It’s warm, like blanket after use and occasionally, he gives some advice when the road gets tough. The advice is always realistic, as he must be, but with free of judgement and from a heart scarred by the past.

Illicit affairs, is what this is. Instincts are screaming to stop this farce before you are in too deep and no longer able to escape. Graves is up to no good and your hands are no longer the same steady ones at the start of the mission. The image of them in a ditch bleeding out and dying haunts your sleep.

Would you still be able to kill them if Graves commanded it?

Shadow soldier you don’t belong here. But the smiles and the casual interactions are fire to moths and you can’t help if your heart desires to be cherished. To be needed. To be wanted by someone.

“Good job, soldier. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

His words are the blossom of flowers in spring and the sun on the wilted fields of your heart. It’s so cruel, to desire what is within reach but never to stay forever.

Does he know what his words do to you?

Your scars, bleeding from the hearts he drew around them. The late nights when you accompanied him in piles of paperwork is some of your favourites. Getting to be with him, and just him in his office where you pretended this was what mattered in the world.

Just him and you.

He’s sardonic and weathered by the rain and time but in the shell of a man, there’s a good heart beating there. He’s helpful around the recruits. He’s always there to lend his ear even if he has mountains of work to get through. He’s been there every time you needed him.

And a week ago, he took you out to a cat café. Paid for the drinks and to thank you for helping him with the paperwork. The mind is a maze but at the end is the scenes of domesticity, you and him in an apartment lazing on the couch while the TV plays something meaningless.

It makes it all the harder to what needed to be done when all the heart wants is to just be with him. Hold him and be his. You split from the group and stopped beside Graves before the convoy sets off for Alejandro’s base or soon-to-be Graves’ base.

“In twenty, we will relieve them of their duties. Hop into the vehicle with them and keep them in. Don’t mess this up, shadow.”

Soap and Ghost are in the backseat of the vehicle and you take the front passenger seat. The sergeant is in high spirits and Ghost is relaxed into the seat with his shoulders lax and head against the headrest. The men are in high spirits and the convoy starts to move. It’s a death march towards base and Graves is in the lead car with Alejandro.

Fingers grasp the sidearm in your thigh holster. His eyes are in the rear view mirror and it hurts, hurts everywhere to shatter the trust you’ve scrounged together with him. He doesn’t deserve this and he blinks slowly.

What’s wrong?

The Shadows weren’t new to compromised agents and previously, you scoffed at the mention of it. How could good men ever betray their comrades and fail the mission?

Now? You aren’t so sure and the wavers in your heart are shaking the needles of your moral compass. When did the road forward vanish into seas of sand and leave you stranded in the junction of decisions? The warehouse comes into sight and the vehicles stop.

Graves give his whole speech about taking the base and Alejandro is knocked out first. The men are on edge and Graves gestures for you to move to him.

“Come here, Shadow.”

Soap is surprised and Ghost is gripping his rifle. His eyes are hurt, and they ask you, is this real? You knew he would curse your name for eons to come as you step away from him to stand beside Graves. The look of hurt is replaced by an anger ferocious as the sun in his eyes.

It hurts more than anything in the world.

“Nobody needs to get hurt today. Put down the guns and stay there.”

Your body moves on autopilot and raise the rifle just as the other soldiers do.

“This is what a Shadow should be. Discreet, fast and blending into their environments. And now, we have ourselves a victory.” Graves pats your shoulder. “The honours is all yours.”

---

The celebrations are huge but it’s hollow. Meaningless beyond comparison with your birthday spent with them and the party Soap threw. Drinks are served and shadows congratulate you on the victory.

The cells are quiet and you stop before his cell.

A click using the key easily swiped from Graves’ office and the door unlocks gently. He is fast and your neck is caught in a grip of immense strength. The anger simmering in his eyes are covering the hurt deep down and he knows.

He knows you will let him do whatever he wanted.

“You don’t have a lot of time. There’s a vehicle parked outside idling.”

The door to Soap’s cell unlocks easily and the guard is off on his piss break. An embrace is all you want from him and he looks to Soap. Ignoring you like the stain on his boots.

“I trusted you.”

“I know.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“You never should have.”

They are running down the halls and out of the base through a back door before anyone can notice anything. The vehicle takes off and you put on an act when the base alarm sounds upon the guard’s notice of the missing prisoners.

---

Retirement is a bitch. Graves never did find out how they escaped and the last thing you heard was the man dying in a tank explosion. The latte is sweet in a café in Munich and you reach for the place where a straw is supposed to be.

“Oof, excuse me,” as you bump into someone on the way to the counter.

You look at the person and it’s him. Even without the mask and the heaps of military gear, it’s him.

“Simon.” He reaches his hand out.

He nods at the sound of your name and shakes your hand. Maybe there is a chance to still start over with him. An old cardigan, he puts you on and calls it his favourite in a quiet Thursday in a café in Germany.

---

I knew you would come back to me, as I would to you.

#fanfic #cod mw2 #male reader #x male reader #x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost fanfiction #call of duty

212 notes · View notes

hero-israel · 1 year

Note

Here's the thing about this narrative that Palestinian resistance no matter what form is acceptable. Jewkilling cannot exist in a bubble. It cannot be politically neutral. 1000 years of European (and Arab) antisemitism culminating in genocide have ruined that. Sorry to Palestinian activists but that's just how it works. You can't murder a Jew without it being a tragedy, without it contributing to the continued global oppression of Jewish people.

And all that said, that's just if Hamas and others only targeted soldiers and police (or at least tried as best they could). The IRA didn't go out of its way to purposefully target noncombatants. Why? Probably because there isn't thousands of years of history of English people being seen as subhuman, there isn't thousands of years of anglophobic propaganda showing English people as twisted monsters preying on children and secretly undermining Irish society. The Irish national movement was not born because English refugees returned to their historical homeland and challenged the notion of Irish Supremacy. It was a pragmatic liberation movement. Resist military occupation, undermine military infrastructure designed to oppress the people. The descendants of English and Scottish settlers would even be allowed to stay if they had won. Imagine that.

These things are all tied up in each other. I'm against police brutality, I'm against the escalation and the militarization and the mistreatment of Arabs in Israel and in Judea & Samaria and Gaza and Golan and everywhere. But killing Jews can never be righteous. Sorry to anyone who feels that way but it can't. Antizionists NEED to understand that. Jews will always feel defensive and ready themselves for retaliation because of history, because of that context. Jews keep saying "prove to us a post zionist society where we all share the land won't be antisemitic" and their concerns are completely brushed off.

There's no empathy at all. A little girl can be stabbed to death and antizionists celebrate because she was a "settler," and that brave Palestinian man was defending his indigenous homeland, by targeting the weakest of his enemies. And since Israel has mandatory military service the antizionist can surmise that no Jews are Innocent. An Israeli Jew cannot be a noncombatant. They have to, otherwise the only other explanation for why Jewkilling is acceptable to them, or even feels good to them, is that they hate Jews. And as of right now, the optics are still against that. I have a sinking feeling the optics won't be against them much longer. I inherently don't trust a "liberation" movement that's all too eager to make murdering Jewish civilians praxis. I'm sick of the internet falling for this bullshit.

One of the best asks I have ever received. Thank you for sharing it and I agree with every word.

The entire progressive intersectional social-justice frame has failed Jews (or, alternately, has succeeded in excluding them), due to being intellectually colonized by a clearly fascist ideology of incessantly hating the Jew as a poisonous alien. Try to get an online activist to critically deconstruct the social assumptions they were raised with about Jews in their Muslim, Christian, or very slightly post-Christian society... it won't go well. Funny how Jews have lived in India and China for thousands of years yet you will look in vain for examples of bitter bloodthirsty kill-your-nextdoor-neighbor antisemitism in those societies. That's because the origin, the core, of Chinese and Indian societies was not "We're the people who are better than Jews."

From a review of Richard Landes' new book "Can the Whole World Be Wrong?":

[During the Second Intifada] Israelis were described at the time as the new Nazis. But the malice that was unleashed was even worse. As Landes writes, “It was mostly about being freed from a sense of obligation to the Jews, a chance to take up again the Jew-baiting so long denied Europeans by a politically correct post-Holocaust sobriety.” Landes quotes a poisonous comment made by a member of the House of Lords and reported in the Spectator, “Well, the Jews have been asking for it, and now, thank God, we can say what we think at last.” During that time, I was told something horrifyingly similar to my [=the reviewer's] face.

Your example of Irish nationalists not going out of their way to murder British children is a good one. The oft-reached comparisons between Palestine and South Africa are frivolous for many reasons as I have explained here before, and the ANC advocating and normalizing a vision of enduring racial diversity and equality is high on the list of reasons (made possible because black African identity is not predicated on a thousand-year history of hating and oppressing whites). The case of Rhodesia is even more instructive. Robert Mugabe - ROBERT MUGABE! - pleaded with the whites to stay, to live as equals, as brothers, and work together in building a better society in Zimbabwe. Ian Smith, last white PM of Rhodesia, agreed with him and stayed in Zimbabwe. If a so-called "liberation" movement is more openly dedicated to straight-up exterminating their enemies than Robert Mugabe ever was, maybe, just maybe, it shouldn't be described as "liberation" at all.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #israel #palestine #zionism #palestinians #jumblr

648 notes · View notes

spooky-pomegranate · 2 months

Text

A letter from Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Summary: Ghost writes you a letter after Price unexpectedly sends you into witness protection, breaking your heart. With a looming threat of an attack from a terrorist organization on the horizon, Ghost urges you to mend fences with Price or at least play nice until the enemy is thwarted. Should you hear him out?

I’m not sure how to start this. All I can hope for is that you won’t throw this letter into the ocean until you’ve finished reading it. I’ve heard Laswell sent you somewhere on the beach. That’s nice I guess. I’m not a big fan of the ocean, but I know most people are. Maybe you are. You and I never talked about anything like that, but maybe you did with Johnny? He’s a big fan of the water. He’s always yammering on about wanting to take a vacation somewhere tropical. He says tropical resorts just have ‘better water sports.’ Whatever that means. Maybe Laswell can send him your way when he starts feeling better. I know he’d like to spend the time with you. He’s a fan of yours. Kyle too. They’ve told me a lot about you over these last few days.

And I want to apologize for that. Not for listening to them, but for not listening to you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you on my own. You have to understand John is my brother. I don’t mean in some ‘brother in arms’ sort of bullshit way. I mean I consider him my family, my kin, my blood. He’s the closest thing I have to the real thing these days, so I’m protective of him, but I’ve done it in a way that has been unkind toward you.

I was suspicious of you when we first met. I thought that your entrance into John’s life was going to bring him harm. Whether you were going to do so maliciously or in a less nefarious way I wasn’t quite sure. But I was wrong and I’d like to apologize to you.

You have changed John. He's more at ease now than I've seen him in years. He laughs more. So much more, and it's a sound that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of my head. It's not a funny laugh, but one filled with genuine joy. It's stupid and infectious and it even has started to rub off on Johnny and Kyle. They both look less tense these days.

But you haven’t just made John a different man outside of the field, somehow you’ve changed him on it too. He fights differently. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say he’s more focused now. More determined. It’s like he’s fighting not just for the mission objective, but for something beyond it. Something personal. Maybe that’s just what it looks like when someone fights beyond duty or honor. I’m not sure. But you’ve made him a better soldier and leader for it. So thank you because I don’t think I would be here without your effect on him. What happened at the hangar is the closest we’ve come to death in a long time and I know that’s probably shaken John more than he’s let on.

If you are still reading this, I have a favor to ask of you. I know I don’t have any right to. My initial skepticism and rudeness toward you probably caused you a lot of pain, and for that, I am truly sorry. But John needs your help. So please come back to the States and help him end these terrorists for good.

I don’t know what’s been said between you, but I’m sure you’re in the right. Don’t tell him I said this but John tends to be a stubborn ass. So please forgive him. Or at least, help him through this and I promise I’ll keep him from you for as long as you wish.

I’ll be in your debt.

Sincerely,

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

P.S. You two weren’t as sly as you thought. It wasn’t hard to see something more was going on between you when you wreaked like an ashtray all the time and I’ve never seen you smoke.

—————————————————————

(More from this story on AO3)

59 notes · View notes

zepskies · 3 months

Text

And So It Goes - Part 18

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

Word Count: 5,600

Tags/Warnings: Love triangle, tension, more of Ben’s asshole behavior, angst, hurt/comfort, implied smut

ASIG Series Masterlist

18: Being Human

Maybe I really do have a death wish, Helena thought, as she let the most wanted supe alive into her home.

Butcher and Hughie joined him, with the latter taking in her two-story house for the first time.

“Nice,” Hughie said with a nod. “This place is beautiful.”

Helena gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Though she gave Ben a pointed look. “Try not to break it, please.”

He shot her a raised brow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched her turn and show them one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor. Meanwhile, his gaze lingered on the curve of her ass in those jeans.

Butcher caught the supe’s lazy perusal with a sharp eye. Ben felt his stare and had the gall to shoot him a wink with his smile. Ben’s steps had a certain swagger as he followed Helena down the hall.

It succeeded in setting Butcher even more on edge.

Hughie glanced over at his friend with concern; he’d seen the exchange between the men and didn’t like the fact that Helena was caught in the middle. More and more, he was starting to question just what the hell they were doing.

“Are you sure about this?” Hughie asked.

Butcher didn’t even look at him. His ears were perked to the conversation Soldier Boy and Helena were having down the hall, about fresh bedsheets, of all things.

“There’s no turning back now,” Butcher said.

Hughie frowned. “I know, but…”

Butcher ignored him in favor of starting down the hall to follow Helena and the unstable supe he’d brought into her home.

After everyone had showered and changed and devoured a few pizzas Helena had ordered, Ben puttered through her living room, rummaging through her things. He opened drawers and surveyed her various picture frames, like he was actually interested in her life or something.

“Got any reefer?” he asked.

Helena rolled her eyes. There goes that theory.

Not that she wanted his interest.

“Fresh out,” she said wryly.

She watched him from her corner of the sofa while Hughie graciously did the dishes. Butcher was sitting at the breakfast nook with a cup of tea.

Helena knew he was monitoring the supe out of the corner of his eye, but she was now very careful in what she left on the TV. She didn’t think Dumb and Dumber should have anything triggering.

She eyed him more sharply when Ben started thumbing through her record collection.

“Hey, easy with my vinyl, please,” she said. “It’s vintage.”

He raised up one of your favorites: I Wanna Dance with Somebody.

“Sweetheart, I’m vintage. I think Whitney Houstonis safe with me,” he quipped wryly.

She rolled her eyes at him, but she had to fight a laugh.

“I knew her, by the way,” he mentioned.

Helena’s interest was piqued, with a tilt of her head. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Her and Bobby knew how the fuck to get down. That’s for damn sure.”

“Oh my God,” Helena giggled.

Butcher couldn’t fucking believe what was happening in front of him.

Well, technically, behind him. He was facing the kitchen, and it gave Hughie the vantage point to see Butcher’s irritation.

Helena was more amused than disgusted by the man’s ridiculous flirting. He was an old, old man in that 40s-ish, practically indestructible body. He was like a man out of time, complete with outdated sexism and hyper-machismo. His attempts were often so obvious, it was funny.

But, she also felt guilty for being able to laugh and be pleasant, when this was a man who had killed, and not just during his PTSD-fueled episodes over the past few days. This was the man who murdered M.M.’s grandfather.

The problem was, she had long ago become desensitized to asshole supes. And she couldn’t help her gut instinct…that there was more to Ben than met the eye.

Helena called it a night an hour or so later, when her eyes were starting to droop. She’d slept for a couple of hours in the car, but there was nothing like being back in her safe space, in fresh clothes, and soon to be in her own bed.

A knock at her bedroom door had her frowning in confusion. She put on a robe over her pajamas and opened the door. Her brows raised at finding Butcher there.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was deep and tired, full of gravel. He tried to slip past her inside the room, but she grabbed the doorjamb, blocking his way. She gave him a flat look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. He gestured to the bed with raised brows.

“To sleep. I’m fucking knackered, love.”

Helena’s lips formed a thin smile.

“There’s a guest bedroom down the hall,” she said. For a moment, they just stared at one another, as one refused to leave, and the other refused to bend.

“Hel,” Butcher tried.

“You ended this,” she said, pushing him back with a hand in the center of his chest.

“Technically, that was you,” he returned. He backed up a step, but wouldn’t let her move him much farther.

This time, her lips pursed and her expression tightened.

“You know what you said, Billy,” she said. “And you know what you did. You still don’t even have the decency to apologize.”

She stepped closer into his orbit, until her breasts barely brushed against his chest. He could feel the warmth of her skin under the thin cotton of her shirt, could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She leaned up on her toes and almost brushed her lips against his. She smelled minty fresh, along with the jasmine shampoo she often used.

“You…don’t get any part of this,” she said. “And you certainly don’t get to make some kind of claim on me just because you’re jealous.”

Helena pulled away. Butcher didn’t know what was more infuriating: not being able to touch her, or the deadly accuracy of her words.

“Jealous?” he said incredulously. “Of fucking what, might I ask?”

Instead of answering him, she smiled and closed her door in his face.

Butcher was left in the hall, teeth gritted and fists clenched. What the bloody hell just happened?

When he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he trudged down the hall and into the second bedroom, where Hughie was already slipping into the queen-sized bed. Butcher yanked him out of bed, despite the younger man’s yelp and protest.

“Hey!”

“There’s a couch nice and comfy there for ya,” Butcher said, gesturing at the nearby sofa. It was little more than a loveseat. If Hughie was lucky, it would only be his legs hanging off the side.

He frowned. “Come on, man.”

Butcher shrugged off his jacket and boots, tossing them on a nearby accent chair.

“You can try your luck bunking with Soldier Boy downstairs, but that might be ill-advised,” he retorted.

And he got into bed, turning out the bedside lamp as he went.

Helena slept for maybe a couple of hours before her eyes opened in the dark, her heart racing. She groaned and covered her face with a hand.

She still saw flashes of manic blue eyes in her mind, a hand wrapped around her throat. She felt throbbing pain radiating from the side of her head and half her ribcage.

It forced her out of bed in search of her medication, which Butcher had somehow gotten for her without a prescription. She chose to ignore that fact, and she grabbed her pill bottle, put on her favorite robe over her pajamas, and ventured downstairs for a glass of water.

When she turned on the kitchen light, her bleary eyes made out a shape sitting at the breakfast nook.

She jumped halfway out of her skin, until she realized that it was just Ben, sitting there with two cartons of Mint Milano cookies and three empty beers from her fridge. He raised his brows at her.

“Evening, sweetheart,” he said, smirking when he eyed her fuzzy purple robe. “Cute.”

“Down, boy,” she warned. She laid a quivering hand on her chest and caught her breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She retrieved the jug of water from the fridge and asked him if he wanted some. He shook his head, leaving her to consider him as she poured herself a glass of water. She saw the familiar threads of self-medicating with the empty beer bottles.

“I can make you some tea,” she offered.

Ben frowned. “Piss water, you mean? I’ll pass.”

Helena rolled her eyes. She got out the chamomile anyway and started up the kettle. It was an electric brewer, so the water would be hot within minutes.

“It could help you sleep better,” she pointed out. She felt his hot gaze on her back as she went about her business in the kitchen. She set up two mugs and took out the bottle of honey.

“One of two things helps me sleep,” said Ben. “Good drugs or a good fuck.”

Helena paused. Her hand clenched on the honey bottle on reflex, and made a large spurt squeeze out in one of the mugs. She eyed him tartly over her shoulder.

“You’ll find neither in this house,” she said. Her tone was pointed. His sly gaze said he wasn’t too sure about that.

“What’s keeping you up?” she asked, and she put a cup of tea in front of him with honey already stirred in. He gave her a flat look.

“I don’t drink that shit,” he said. She smiled.

“But I made it especially for you,” she replied, saccharine sweet. “I thought guys like you were supposed to be chivalrous.”

Ben just stared at her, hard.

She stared at him right back and raised her brows.

“Just try it,” she cajoled. “You might like it.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he slowly reached out and took the handle of the mug. He brought it to his lips and took a reluctant sip.

He grimaced. It was everything he thought it would be: weak in flavor, but warm and a hint sweet.

Helena smiled in satisfaction, and he fought one of amusement, even as he considered how sweet she might be to taste.

She went to get her own mug and her bottle of pain meds. While her back was turned, Ben poured most of the tea into the sink.

“Why’re you in my kitchen, eating all my cookies?” she asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder while holding up one of the empty boxes of Milanos. “These are my favorites.”

Ben’s gaze roamed down the length of her fuzzy robe. It hinted at curves he’d already seen and taken note of. She was the hottest young thing he’d seen in…well, a while. Still, he’d be willing to eat up Miss Chiquita Banana and leave no crumbs.

“I’ve slept long enough,” he said. She turned back around, and he tried to disguise his hunger (for now).

Helena glanced up at him wryly. “Hmm. You’re allowed to say you can’t sleep.”

Ben didn’t answer, but he watched her struggle to open her pill bottle. She twisted and twisted the cap, applying pressure, but it refused to budge.

“Damn it. What, did they reinforce this with, titanium?” she muttered.

The pill bottle eventually broke free, raining little white pills onto the counter. A few of them rolled off to the floor.

Her shoulders deflated. “Of fucking course.”

With a sigh, she slowly bent down and gathered up the pills that fell. She grabbed onto the counter, but the sharpening pain in her ribs wouldn’t let her straighten up, let alone get back onto her feet. She looked up at Ben in annoyance. He was just sitting there, watching her in bemusement.

“Coño pero… Are you gonna help me, Mr. Chivalry?” she snarked. “Best generation, indeed.”

Ben raised a brow at her. “I might, if you ask a little fucking nicer.”

Helena gaped at him. What a dick.

But she expected nothing less, really. She let out a tense breath through her nose and through much effort, she angled a less pissed off face at him.

“Will you please give me hand off the damn floor?” she asked.

A smirk crossed his lips. He actually obliged her, sliding off his seat and coming her way around the kitchen counter. He bent down and helped her up with a hand on her lower back and her elbow. He didn’t back away from her until her feet were steady on the ground, and she nodded in thanks. He took a few pills out of her hand as payment, popping them into his mouth like Tic Tacs.

Helena sighed in annoyance. Unlike him, she actually needed those.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said.

She knew it was partly her own fault. She chose to follow Butcher, to keep making reckless decisions. But at least now she wouldn’t have to spend every damn second of every day looking over her shoulder. She could just turn around and accept whatever happened next.

Helena could admit it though. She was afraid.

“What’s it like, not being afraid?” she asked Ben, with a small sarcastic huff. His brow arched.

“When you’ve routinely pounded Nazis up the ass, nothing much bothers you after that,” he said, sipping at his mug of tea. Though he soon grimaced again at the taste and pushed the offending drink away.

Deep inside, however, he refused to acknowledge the darker chasms. Stolen years that were now blurred together in memory, and yet, certain moments rang painfully clear. His eyes were unseeing for a moment, before they glanced back up at Helena.

He nearly missed the way she chuckled.

“That shit isn’t fooling for a second,” she said. “I saw you lose your grip, Ben.”

His gaze sharpened. His fist clenched on the counter.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he warned.

Her eyes narrowed. “Let me ask you a question. Do you really not remember M.M.’s family? Or was that routine for you too?”

He paused, his brows crunched in irritation.

“I don’t have to fucking justify myself to you. I was doing my fucking job. Sometimes—”

“What, shit happens?” She threw her hands up mockingly. “God, you’re just like Homelander. Like almost every supe I’ve ever met.”

He rolled his eyes, dismissive, but his anger was prickling just under the surface of his stoic front.

And on the off chance that it was a mask for any spark of shame he felt deep down, Helena was at least a little satisfied. For 100-something years of machismo and supe arrogance, that spark would’ve been well-won.

“Regret is human, Ben,” she said. “So is fear. And pain. And love.”

His face remained stoic. “I’m a lot fucking more than human.”

She huffed at that. “If you say so.”

She shook her head and delved back into her pantry. As a peace offering, she broke out her secret backup stash of cookies, that she doubted even Butcher knew about. They were raspberry and milk chocolate Milanos. She subtly shook the box at Ben with a smile.

He tilted his head. “I don’t remember that flavor.”

“Ooh. Brace yourself,” said Helena. She dug out the first two sleeves of cookies and gave him one.

“How come there’s five in yours?” he asked with a frown. There were only four cookies in his sleeve.

“The Lord giveth, and he taketh away,” she joked. “I get the bonus cookie.”

Ben gave her a deadpan look, but he ate in silence. He looked all surly, and she had to hold in a laugh. What a man-child.

Instead, she tossed her extra cookie at him. He raised a hand to instinctively fend off a projectile.

“Hey,” he said, with his mouth full.

Helena ended up giggling at the sight of crumbs falling from his mouth and in his beard. Again, man-child.

She wanted to hate him.

She should hate him, on principle alone.

Perhaps she had a weakness for deeply flawed men with massive egos. But fleeting as they were, she saw the glimpses of humanity in Ben—rare moments that got swallowed up by Soldier Boy.

In the morning, Butcher aimed to work on the list of safehouses where one of his most paranoid of ex-teammates, Mindstorm, could be hiding out. This next one was a few hours north. He’d be gone for the day, at least.

He was forced to leave Helena and Hughie behind, but not without a warning for the latter. Butcher had pulled Hughie aside and let him know that he wasn’t to leave her alone with Soldier Boy again, under any circumstances. Hughie didn’t have to ask “or what.”

Butcher was gone early in the morning. It allowed Helena and Ben to make their way into the kitchen slower in the morning. She was dressed for the day with her coffee mug in hand, sitting at the breakfast nook while Hughie caught up on the news from her laptop in the living room.

Ben grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat next to her.

“What do you say you get started on breakfast. Huh, baby doll?” he asked. Or more like demanded, by his actual tone.

Helena shot him a dry look. “There’s cereal in the pantry.”

“Come on, now. I could use a home cooked meal,” he said.

Her brow twitched in irritation.

“It might be nice, since I have cracked ribs at the moment, if you might make yourself something,” Helena replied.

Ben gave her a smirk as he eyed her. “Why would I do that when you look like a perfectly good cook.”

“Oh, I am,” she said. “But I’m neither your servant nor your maid.”

“You’ve got two working hands, don’t you?” Ben remarked, as he sipped his coffee. “God fucking knows you’ve got a working mouth.”

Helena seethed as she got up from her chair, but not to make anyone a damn thing. She went to the sink to dump her empty coffee mug. She turned back to Ben and opened her mouth to say something she would very likely regret, but Hughie interjected, perhaps seeing that an explosion was about to happen.

“Uh, why don’t I make us something?” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen with Helena. “I can whip us up some scrambled eggs. Bacon, if you’ve got it. Ooh, looks like you’ve got bread to make toast.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Knock yourself out.”

She ate her eggs on the couch in simmering silence while the news played on the TV. Hughie sat with her, casting her a look of concern every now and then. She ignored it all, including Ben’s less than discreet grumpy staring.

Apparently, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“I swear to Christ. What the fuck is wrong with women today?” he said.

What a good start, Helena thought sarcastically.

“My mom never kept my father waiting for a meal. Even when he came home at whatever goddamn hour of the night, she had a plate waiting for him,” he said.

Helena rolled her eyes and quipped dryly, “That plate must’ve been cold as hell.”

Ben eyed her as she got up from the couch and went to bring her plate to the sink. She had her back to him as she began to rinse the dishes and put them into the sink.

“When did women get so fucking lazy? And disrespectful,” he remarked.

Helena hit the lever on the sink closed to turn off the faucet. She turned around to face the man and crossed her arms.

“You want a fuckable maid, pay extra,” she said. “But if you want a partner you can rely on. Someone you can trust not to give you to the damn Russians, then you share the load. And you respect the woman who lets you into her bed.”

She turned back to the dishes so she wouldn’t have to look at Ben’s angry, brooding face. But the way she turned her back on him, along with her pointed words, irritated enough to spark his anger. He got up from his seat.

Hughie sensed the danger before Helena did. He stood and made a cautious approach to the kitchen.

Helena reached for a hand towel, and found her wrist encased with an iron grip. She gasped as Ben turned her to face him.

“I’ve put up with a lot from you,” he said. “I think I’ve been a gentleman, considering what a disrespectful little brat you are. But I really think you wanna get bent over my knee.”

His face told her that she wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Hey,” Hughie tried to intervene. “Let’s just calm down, all right?”

Helena let out a shaky breath, but she looked up at Ben and somehow managed to hold her ground, despite the iron grip on her arms.

“If it makes you feel better, go ahead,” she said. “Slap me around until I break.”

“Soldier Boy!” Hughie said in warning.

Ben ignored him. He stared down at Helena with cold anger in his eyes. His hold on her arms tightened, and it hurt. She failed to stifle a gasp of pain.

But she stared up at him defiantly, even though there were tears forming in her eyes.

“You want me to respect you? You killed my friend’s family, and you don’t even care,” she said. “I don’t see anything here that earns my respect.”

Ben reacted to her words, mostly with anger as his brows furrowed.

Hughie grabbed the supe’s shoulder. “Hey, man, just let her go!”

Ben shoved Hughie away so hard that it made the younger man slide across the kitchen and into the far wall, until he hit a bookshelf and fell to the ground.

Helena flinched in shock, and pain at the way he was still holding her. Ben saw it play across her face…and he let her go abruptly. He stared down at her for a moment, nostrils flaring with his heavier breathing. She tried to calm her own breathing as she met his gaze, wondering what he would do. Wondering if this was the moment she’d signed her own death warrant by being her smartass self.

But Ben walked away from her.

Well, stalked away, more like. He left through the front door and it swung open on its hinges.

Helena took in deep breathes of relief. Eventually she gathered enough of her wits to go to Hughie, who was still picking himself off the floor.

“I gotta go after him,” he said with a sigh.

“Get that man away from my house. I don’t care where you take him,” Helena said, frowning tersely. Hughie couldn’t blame her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and touched her arm gently. She pulled away from his touch and held herself with crossed arms.

“I’m fine. Just go get him,” she replied.

He nodded and took off after Soldier Boy. It gave Helena the reprieve she needed to let out a long, tremulous breath. A tear fell down her cheek as she leaned on the kitchen counter.

She just couldn’t help taking her life into her hands.

Butcher returned to Helena’s house in the evening. Her car was still in the driveway, but when he let himself in with the spare key she’d given him, he realized that the house was empty, except for her.

She was washing dishes from a dinner she’d clearly made for just herself: a Lean Cuisine.

“Where the hell are Hughie and Soldier Boy?” he asked, approaching where she stood in the kitchen, dressed down in a long-sleeved shirt and yoga pants.

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” she said. “Hello to you too, by the way.”

Her voice had little energy in it, save for anger and sarcasm, and Butcher took notice. He frowned.

“You’re the one who brought ‘em here. Weren’t my fucking idea, remember?” he snarked back.

Helena finally gave up on the dishes and turned to him with angry tears in her eyes.

“But you’re the one who made it happen, Billy. You wanted to cut a deal with that ancient, unstable fucking asshole? Well, you got your damn wish,” she said. “You are the reason we’re in this mess.”

Butcher paused at the sight of her unshed tears. His jaw worked as he tried to make sense of why she was this upset, when just yesterday she was joking and laughing with the supe like he was the guest of honor.

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Unbidden, it reminded him of the day he waited for her at her apartment. And she’d come home after work looking skittish and drained. She’d flinched away from his touch then, just like she’d done now. That had been the day Homelander nearly strangled her to death.

“What the fuck did he do, Helena?” Butcher repeated. She met his gaze.

“You better find him,” she said, “before he blows up another damn building.”

Butcher stared hard at her, but she wouldn’t say anything more.

He fished out his cell and called Hughie, who told him that he’d brought Soldier Boy to the Legend’s penthouse apartment in the city.

“Good,” Butcher nodded. “Keep him settled there while I look for Mindstorm.”

He glanced at Helena, but she was already walking away from him to finish cleaning up her kitchen.

Butcher ended his call. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ve gotta go,” was what he settled on.

She shrugged. Butcher nearly sighed. He went to her though, while she was wiping down the counter with a clean rag. His hand reached out to touch her back, but at the last moment, he thought better of it. His arm drifted back to his side.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly.

“Like you care,” she said. Her tone was one of both snark and exhaustion. “Just go.”

Reluctantly, he went.

Helena was angry, to say the least—at Butcher, at Soldier Boy, and even at Hughie. She was also angry at herself for not having been able to leave well enough alone when Butcher left the first time.

Which first time? She snorted.

But she was especially mad at herself when she allowed the three men to traipse back into her home, a week later.

“‘Ullo, love,” Butcher greeted at her door.

They were covered with dried sweat and dirt, like they’d been hiking. She only let them in because of how they looked—each a bit rattled by whatever they’d faced. Her house was safer than the Legend’s at this point, Butcher explained.

“Just one night,” he asked. “We’ll fuck off in the morning.”

“Fine,” she agreed, despite her better judgment. Again, it was that look in his eyes. Unsteady.

Ben gave her a predictable once-over of her pajama shorts and tank-top, but it seemed he didn’t have it in him to volley with her like usual, especially after what happened last time. He didn’t acknowledge that as he made his way to one of the guest rooms.

Helena followed Hughie and Butcher upstairs…but something made her grab Butcher and steer him away from the second guest bedroom.

He wasn’t sure what she was doing while she guided him into the bathroom in her room. There he leaned against the counter of the bathroom sink. She picked the twigs out of his hair and brushed the dried mud from his shirt.

“Did you take a dirt nap or something?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he replied.

“What the hell happened then?”

He looked down at her. “Mindstorm is dead.”

She sighed at that, but something else was there, behind his eyes. Just under the surface.

“And what else?” Helena asked.

Butcher remained quiet, hesitating. She slowly took a chance by reaching for his scarred hand. She held it with both of hers.

He couldn’t help himself. He brushed his thumb over the back of her warm, tan, smooth hand, reminding himself that she was real and alive. And he wasn’t locked in his mind.

“When I left for the SAS,” he said, “I left my little brother behind…with our raging cunt of a father.”

Helena inhaled deeply; she remembered what Butcher had told her about Lenny, about how he died young. But somehow, Butcher had left out this detail. He met her gaze with tears forming in his red-rimmed eyes.

“I shouldn’t have left him,” he confessed.

Helena was half in shock as she watched the first tear roll down his cheek. She realized then that she had never seen the true depths of this man. Not until tonight.

Her eyes burned with sympathetic emotion as she reached for him and pull him into her arms. He held her back, burying his face in her neck and grounding himself in her as his body shook. Those brutal memories, along with the grief that had been locked deep inside had loosened, and the doors were now swinging open on their hinges.

“Jesus Christ, Helena…I’m sorry,” he said. His voice wavered, and his hand clenched in her hair. “For what I keep doing to ya. Dragging you down with me with every goddamn step.”

He pulled back enough to see her, to be faced with her tears as she bit her lip.

“And for what I said…to you, and to the kid. I’m fucking sorry,” he said.

Helena broke down just as much as he did then. She nodded in acceptance, and she held his face in her hands. Then she brought him down for a tender kiss. Butcher gave into the soft warmth of her as he held her against him, unwilling to let go this time.

And she led him back into her bed.

In the late hours of the night, Butcher returned to Helena’s bed after a shower. She was already fast asleep. He slid in behind her, gently caressing the back of his hand up her naked back and over her shoulder, down her arm…

And he saw it. A purplish, yellow band around her arm.

It looked like a bruise, formed by a large hand. A man’s hand.

Butcher was damn certain it wasn’t his own, and he’d just finished tracing all the contours of her body tonight.

Though he was reminded of what happened a few days ago…

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Soldier Boy. That old cunt.

Rage built and built inside him. That unfathomable rage that so often fostered lethal energy in Butcher’s blood.

Carefully he slipped out of bed. He got as far as the doorway before he looked back at Helena. He focused on her easy breathing, her messy dark hair splayed on her pillow.

The rage he felt began to simmer down, bit by bit, into self-loathing. Because he did this.

She’d been right before. Butcher made the deal with Soldier Boy. And Butcher brought this shitshow into her home.

So he forced himself to join her back in bed. He traced down the back of her neck, down the length of her lotus tattoo. It made her shiver in her sleep.

Butcher had failed his brother, and Becca. But he couldn’t fail this time. He’d keep Helena and Hughie safe, and alive.

Butcher’s phone was on silent, but the light from his phone on the nightstand illuminated the dark room and stole his attention. He grabbed it and frowned at the strange number on the caller ID. He took the phone into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I need to talk to Hughie. Where is he?” Annie asked.

“Oh, Starlight. How delightful,” he muttered. And then he lied.“He’s just popped out for a bit.”

“Okay, well he’s not answering his phone.”

“Bit hard to keep a phone when you’re teleporting all day, innit, love? How can I help?”

“Temp V is going to kill you both,” she said.

“Well, it’s gonna have to join the queue,” he quipped.

“I was just in the lab. It causes lesions, okay? It turns your brain into fucking Swiss cheese!” she shouted. “So please be honest with me, and tell me how many doses have you taken?”

Butcher hesitated at that. His stomach began to churn.

“Just a couple,” he replied. Or a few.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “Butcher, five to six doses kills you. Got that? You need to tell Hughie.”

Butcher hesitated. “Yeah…yeah, I will. I promise.”

“Okay, but I’m calling every five minutes until—”

He hung up on her. All the while, his mind was reeling.

Fuck, he thought. Fatal after five doses. He’d already had three. Hughie’d had two.

And they needed more, if they were going to face Homelander and Black Noir.

“Scorched earth” was going to come at a price. Butcher had known that going into this, but it suddenly took on new meaning as he opened the bathroom door and looked over at Helena, peacefully sleeping in bed.

Butcher thought of Ryan, and all of his broken promises.

But come the morning, Butcher didn’t tell anyone of what he’d learned.

AN: Oooh, we're getting so close to the end here, folks!

Next Time:

“Why are you being so fucking stubborn?” Butcher asked.

Her head tilted as she gave a wry smile. “What do you mean?”

His grip on her waist tightened a little.

“Why’re you staying with me?” he pressed. “Hel, you know where this ends.”

“Billy, I don’t have a death wish,” she told him. She squeezed his arms back. “But I don’t just want you alive for me. Ryan needs you too.”

Keep Reading: Part 19

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

@lauraaan182 @homielander @calizmor @haibara-ai-tsii @brujaporfavor @sleepyqueerenergy @adoringanakin @skyesthebomb @lunaticgurly @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso

@xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @emily-winchester @xxlaynaxx @kaleldobrev @jad3djay @jackles010378 @kishie8

#Being Human #And So It Goes #Part 18 #the boys #billy butcher #soldier boy/Ben #soldier boy #billy butcher x oc #butcher x oc #billy butcher x ofc #poc!oc #billy butcher x reader #Butcher x Latina!OC #karl Urban #poc oc #latina!oc #hughie campbell #zepskies writes

66 notes · View notes

simp999 · 9 months

Note

Hi! I saw your requests were open and thought I'd pop in to ask How Would The Mercs Reach To Their S/O Picking Up Phrases Or Slang That They Use! Bonus points if S/O also says phrases in the Mercs' native tongue ^^

THIS IS THE STUFF, PEOPLE!!!! I love this prompts so much oh my gosh, thank you so much for requesting!!! I may have gotten a tad carried away with Sniper's part, whoops..

Merc's Reactions to Their S/O Picking up Words/Phrases/Slang That They Use - drabbles

Total wc: 2.4k

Mercs included: All

Masterlist

Scout:

After being around him for such a long time, it’s not too surprising that sometimes you’d accidentally slip into a bostonian accent for some words. But the first time Scout caught you saying one of his lines was in the middle of battle. - Your two classes didn’t really mesh too well, so you wouldn’t be near each thother too often. Which means that he has no idea how long you’ve been doing this for.

You hadn’t noticed Scout run behind you after noticing you turning a corner. You jumped down from the ledge, spotting an opponent right below you. With a big swing of your weapon and a crit hit that landed perfectly on the back of their head, you shouted:

“Hah! Take that, chucklenuts!”

Scout couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling pride wash through him. That means you think he’s funny! It’s not a direct complement, but it sure feels like it for him. It probably didn’t help that you yelled “BONK!” as your hit landed, too. It didn’t really matter to him if you guys ended up winning that battle or not, because that was a big enough win for him. (Though, you did end up winning with how much quicker he was on his feet.)

It really just made him fall even more in love with you.

Soldier:

Hearing him go on about war and America so often eventually meant you using references some times, or throwing in a few words relating to those things at times. It’s happened before where your team was right close to losing, so the opposing team felt more lax and confident. You were the start of the comeback, killing their Medic, and shouting:

“It ain’t over 'till it’s over, Maggot!”

Soldier didn’t even catch the fact that you used one of his most common nicknames. It just kinda flew over his head.

Of course, it wasn’t just words and phrases that you’d stolen from him - It’d be wrong to say that you didn’t get a bit more chaotic, too.

The one that struck him right in the face, though, was when you sacrificed yourself for him, while killing multiple enemies. You had shouted “Death before dishonor!” as you did.

It had landed you the victory.

After the battle, he had quickly picked you up and threw you on his shoulders, holding your legs in place as he marched on. He gave you a whole speech about how “YOU DESERVE A MEDAL OF HONOR, CUPCAKE!!”

Pyro:

-Uhhhh

-jk, as if I’d leave my favorite firebug out ;)

Obviously, mimicking any common phrases of theirs wasn’t really possible…but! I can promise you that they only fell harder for you when you started adapting their little tweaks to sign language that they tended to use. One thing that was very common of Pyro to do was to use the short form of “I love you”. They loved the fact that it was so much quicker to do, and easy, and it’s so simple!

There’s a good chance that you weren’t completely fluent in sign language when you first showed up as a merc, so you had Engineer and Pyro gladly help you. So, that’s what made them even more excited to see you pick up on their mannerisms.

Because you knew the right way to do it. Pyro knows this, because they’ve seen you either learn it with Engie, or do it before.

Their favorite thing was seeing how you got more comfortable with sign language with time. Your movements are so much less stiff, and much quicker. It’s almost second nature to you now, and they can’t express how happy it makes them!

Though, lots of cuddles and gasmask kisses seems to do the trick.

Heavy:

Heavy caught you the first time you said it. His favorite step in your relationship was the night he decided to call you милая (milaya). You two were snuggled up next to eachother after a long day of battles, enjoying eachother’s warmth. (He’s a human heater, so this happens pretty often.) He wasn’t really expecting you to catch it, throwing it in the middle of his sentence to try to hide it. - He’s still a bit nervous about trying new things, you know! - But, you had indeed questioned him on what it meant. He merely explained that it was a term of endearment, and he struggled to find similar english words and ended up fumbling with Honey, Darling and Sweetie. Your face had gotten a little warmer at that, but you had expressed how much you liked the name and he had began to use it since. Now, it simply rolled off his tongue with ease when talking or calling out to you.

Ironically, it was nearly the same situation, only months later. You two were once again cuddling after a long day, though much more tired. This time, you two were laying down on Heavy’s giant bed with him on his back and you on your front right on top of him. You were almost out like a light, but you had noticed that your throat was dry. A glass of water was within Heavy’s reach, so you had mumbled in a groggy voice:

“Mind passing me that glass of water, милая(Milaya)?”

The way you said it without the russian accent almost tripped him up, but he froze right before picking up the glass for you. He figured you must have meant to use his nickname, Misha, or even his actual name, Mikail. He didn’t ask you about it, as you were asleep before he could form the right sentence.

It had plagued his mind for a while though, and may have made his face go pink a few times during battle.

Engineer:

Do you guys have any idea how wild some southern phrases can be?? Imagine picking up on that! But I won’t go into that, instead, imagine adapting his southern conjunctions. Ya’ll, ain’t, Y'all'd've. .. okay maybe not that last one, but still.

Something more common that you most likely picked up on was sometimes no longer pronouncing the G at the end of words. Fixin’, attackin’, goin’, etc. Just like Scout, you probably also had a few words that slipped into that southern accent.

But by far, the most common thing you did was drop the G and use ‘y’all’. Dell definitely noticed, and probably poked fun at you at times.

“Ya’ll wanna play darts or somethin’ later?” You head poked into the common room, where most of the usual mercs were hanging out, already drinking beer and chatting away. He’d let out a snicker, then follow it up with something along the lines of:

“Yer startin’ ‘ta sound a lil’ too much like me, Honeybee.”

He definitely gently teases you about it, “correcting” you if you “forget” to use the southern version of whatever you said.

“Don’tchya mean ‘ya’ll’?”

Demoman: (small gore mention)

Man, don’t get me started with all the weird stuff he says. The thing is, he doesn’t often use the same insults, so you don’t end up picking up on the more obscure ones. You might slip and say “ya” instead of “you”, and you might pick up on using “bloody” to accentuate what you’re trying to say. You might also pick up saying “aye” to get people’s attention.

He thought it was absolutely adorable, and would often follow through with whatever you said with something of his own.

You really wanted to use your favorite line of his on the battlefield one day, but he just so happened to be with you when you got a sweet domination, taking an opponent’s head clean off. You kinda forgot that he was with you, as he was focused on another opponent, so you let the line slip:

“Hah! They’re going to have to glue you back together… IN HELL!”

You weren’t expecting him to notice, or at least make it obvious that he did, but he immediately called out after you:

“AYE, THAT’S RIGHT YE BLOODY BADASS! THA’S HOW IT’S DONE!!”

Medic: (Gore mention)

It’s common for Medic to use filler words such as "eh, ah, um, er, eheh, aha, ja", and you’ve adopted that little habit. He finds it adorable that you started copying him!

Though, he definitely treats it as an experiment, as he does with most things. He also probably tallies it up. Like, he’ll just be having a conversation with you and have his notepad handy, and he only stops tallying when it seems like you might be catching on.

He’ll purposely use one of the filler words more often than others to see if you’ll do the same. It works! For some you begin to use them right away, others may take a while of exposure for you to start absentmindedly saying them.

The first time you used a german, non-filler word was in a fit of panic.

You had been practising some stuff on some subjects that Medic had allowed you to borrow. Of course you were interested in experimenting with bodies and animals, even people, sometimes! -You got with Medic, this is to be expected. - He knows he’s taught you enough for you to be safe to do this type of stuff on your own, and he allows you to use the medbay whenever.

He had walked in to tell you to come take a break to have something to eat, when you accidentally cut your hand with a scalpel. Without a second thought, you quickly let out a hushed “Scheiße!” before turning around to take care of the wound, spotting Medic. He didn’t have time to question you about it, since taking care of you was the only thing on this mind at the time.

Sniper:

The first time it happened was when Scout had asked you to hang out. He apparently wanted to show you something cool, but you were busy making yourself a snack. Mundy had just walked into the kitchen when he heard your reply;

“Cheers! I’ll be free in a bit!”

Scout didn’t seem to notice anything. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it. He just started rambling on about whatever cool thing he was about to show you. Sniper didn’t want to bother you when you seemed genuinely interested in Scout’s mostly one-sided conversation, but if you had looked over at him, you would have been able to spot a slight raise of his brow and the tiniest hint of a smirk.

The second time was when Demo had accidentally spilled some of his scrumpy on you. He was extremely apologetic, but you kept reassuring him that it was alright.

“No wuckas, Demo! I’ll just go change real quick.”

Yet again, you walked off before he could question you.

The third time got him backstabbed.

Though he’d never admit it, he often sometimes watched you through his scope, wanting to keep his S/O safe. This time, you just so happened to be semi-facing him, when you ran into a sticky bomb. You had noticed it a moment too late, so you weren’t able to dodge it. You only had enough time to mutter a quick “...Piss.” before being sent to respawn. Sniper was able to read your lips, and he couldn’t help but snort and let out a chuckle, not allowing himself to listen to his surroundings.

Finally, you did it when it was just you and him in his camper van. The two of you were bored and looking for something to do, when you had spotted something behind Mundy. You gestured towards it;

“Hey, wanna pass the deck of cards, mate?”

He froze for a moment, then he allowed his smirk to grow. You sat in silence, wondering what was so funny. He noticed the look of confusion on your face.

“Mate… really? You’re not doin’ that t’make fun of me, are ya?”

Your brows only furrowed further together, “What, what’d I do?”

He never called you ‘mate’ anymore, not after the two of you got together. Usually, he called you ‘Roo’ or ‘Love’.

“You called me ‘Mate.’”

“I-” You look at him in disbelief, finally making proper sense of his previous sentence. Then a smile began to slowly grow across your face, “no.. did I really?”

“Yeah, you’ve been playin’ parrot for a while, now,”

You shake your head and cover your face in embarrassment as you lean into his side. You hadn’t even noticed!

“S’alright, Roo. ’S pretty funny,” he snuggled a little closer, only to give you a small peck on the temple, “n’ cute, too.”

Spy:

One thing for certain was that he very rarely used your actual name. It was always pet names and names of endearment- always french ones.

‘Mon amour, mon coeur, ma/mon chèr(e)’, etc. And since you hung around him so much, it wasn’t rare to hear him use french swears and insults dropped in conversation every so often when talking about past battles and such. Once, he had accidentally spilled his glass of wine, and he uttered “Merde..” under his breath. The same thing happened when a burnt piece of his cigarette had fallen onto his suit, though this time he had said it a bit louder. He’d called people ‘con’ or ‘connard’, ‘crétain, putain,’ and many more. One that was a little more common around the others was ‘ta geule’, or ‘ferme ta geule.’ You eventually learnt that it meant something along the lines of “Shut up”.

One day, when you were extremely frustrated with an overly obnoxious opponent who really enjoyed taunting you, you muttered:

“Ferme ta geule, connard!”

As the opponent fully came to face you, trying to make sense of the words you had let out, they got backstabbed.

You were simply a distraction.

Though, that didn’t stop the way Spy’s cigarette fell from his lips as he finally thought twice about what you had said moments prior.

“Mon amour, it’s best you don’t start using those words too often.”

July.27.23

#fanfic #x reader #tf2 scout #team fortress #tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress x reader #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #team fortress two #team fortress 2

320 notes · View notes

fanfiction-blep · 1 year

Text

Ghost: Part Three. Na’vi Miles Quaritch X Na’vi Fem/Reader.

Part one / Part two / Part Four / Part Five

Thank you for waiting! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Quaritch having barely any control over his tail at this point it has its own warning. Jealousy. Language. Unspoken tension. Mentions of violence, Talks of death, loss of a family member. This one is pretty chill.

Turns out Quaritch loved to fly. Ships didn’t cut it for him anymore, nothing would ever compare to flying his Ikran. He wanted nothing more than to spend hours out in the open air, but he had a mission. That wasn’t going to stop him though, the Colonel was a slick man. He always ends up getting his way. That’s why he was making his way down the winding corridors, the General had stated that (Y/N) was not to fly unattended. Quaritch would be dammed if he let that opportunity slide, she was his link to this planet, a planet he no longer hated. Whatever the feeling that replaced that hate was, it was something he couldn’t describe. Whatever it was he didn’t like it, but she could help him understand it, that was all he needed, he just had to understand this feeling. At least that's what he kept telling himself. He rounded the corner and saw Lyle and Z-dog standing by the clear door of (Y/N)’s cell, laughing.

“What ya think ya doin’?” The Colonel stopped in his tracks, he was out of (Y/N)’s line of sight. She could hear him clear as day though

“Nothin’ boss, the freak is talking to herself.” Lyle sniggered.

“Thought it was funny is all” Z-dog snorted, Quaritch had to restrain his reactions. He was able to stop his ears from falling back against his head, he could stop his teeth baring, but the word ‘freak’ in reference to (Y/N) made his tail swish and thrash irrationally.

“Well, I need her for some lessons. So beat it” he nodded in their direction motioning them to leave. Both of the recom marines sharing odd looks before turning and walking away. He opened the door and found (Y/N) on her knees, palms facing upwards and speaking lowly under her breath. The only words that he caught were ‘Eywa’ and ‘Txum’. “Hey there” he placed his hands on his hips. She looked up at him and it took his breath away. She looked, calm. Peaceful, and it struck him, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he wanted some of that calm she seemed to find so easily.

“What do you want? come to mock me like your buddies?” She stood from her seated position and began adjusting her hair tying it back with a thin piece of twine.

“No.” It was a complete sentence, he had no issues with their jokes about the natives before this. He rationalised his irritation with odd logic. She wasn’t a native, she used to be a human. So it wasn’t right for them to speak about her the way they were. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the case. “I want more flying practice, and ya can teach me more of that Na’vi stuff.” It was a demand. He had done this over the last few days and she hadn’t really protested, other than the odd eye roll. He was already half way out the room when (Y/N) hissed in irritation. He didn’t turn around he only turned his head slightly to look at her. “Problem?”

“I am not one of your little soldiers that you can order around!” She snapped at him. He did turn around at her outburst.

“That’s for damn sure.” He sneered at her, almost spitting out his words “A soldier would accept orders.”

“I am not the obedient type.” she snorted her ears pulled back only slightly, her eyes warning him not to push. Her tail curled around her leg as he leaned in careful to keep his distance, nose still injured from their last altercation.

“That’s something ya should fix sweetheart.” His voice was low, threatening.

“Or what?” she did her best to return his threatening tone.

“Or, I’ll fix it for ya” the air was sucked out of her lungs, there was an unspoken tension between them now. It wasn’t a violent threat, she could tell because his tail was moving in a playful manner. They stood there for several moments, both their chest heaving slightly heavier than they should have been. It was his tail that broke the trance, ‘his damn tail!’ she thought, it stroked against her calf and moved its way up. Completely without his control, she didn’t know this. (Y/N) snapped into action, she pushed past him taking him off balance only slightly.

“Are we leaving or what?” The taller man grunted in response and headed towards to exit. They quickly found their way outside, (Y/N) jogging ahead slightly calling out to her Ikran. She took it all in, she wasn’t allowed outside often. Anytime they let her breath the fresh air she would treasure it. (Y/N)’s Ikran arrived sooner than the Colonel’s. This was for many reasons, Loyey was always close by ensuring she was there when she was needed. The Colonel was yet to form that deep bond with his own Ikran. The two climbed on their respective mounds and lifted into the air, (Y/N) taking the leave.

“You want ta tell me where we’re going?” he asked

“You want to learn, then you have to trust me.” she called out over the wind.

~*~

The two sat opposite each other, as they had so many times in recent weeks. Currently she was teaching him basic Na’vi.

“Sung?” it was more a question than a statement, he had gotten it wrong multiple times.

“Srung! Skxawng”

“Srung!” (Y/N) clapped pleased with his progress, almost proud of how quickly he was picking it up.

“Okay so this one is important” she looked up at him and stared directly into his eyes. “Oel ngati kameie” She felt almost bashful saying the words.

“Oe-l nagati kamie”

“No” she lowered her gaze and shook her head.

“What dose it mean anyways?” The space around them became slightly colder than normal, and the light from the sun began to dim. It was the best time of day, eclipse. She closed her eyes and took it in, breathing in the change in the environment around her. “(Y/N)?” she simply hummed in response. “What does Oel ngati kameie mean?” (Y/N)’s eyes shot open and smile covered her face.

“You said it right!” she gripped his biceps in excitement. He smirked down at her raising an eyebrow. (Y/N) pulled back and angry blush littered her cheeks, she had to get a hold of herself. He wasn’t like Jake, he didn’t want to learn because he cared. He wanted to learn so he had an advantage that her family wouldn’t see coming. Her heart told her something different. He didn’t have to learn the language, he had Spider and her to translate if it was needed. He might need her to learn to fly better, sure, but he was a true natural, he didn’t need any pointers from her. Yet at least once a day he would go to her cell and demand the same thing, he wanted to fly with her and have her teach him.

“(Y/N)? I won’t ask you again�� Something about his words sent a shock down her spine.

“Right sorry. It means ‘I see you’”

“Well no shit! Why is that one important then?”

“Its not a literal statement, its spiritual. It means I see you, all of you, your heart, your mind, your soul. It means that I see you for who you are, respect and accept you in your entirety.” He was taken back, he was unsure of where to look. His eyes dancing between hers, his hands, or simply the forage around them.

“Bull-” was all he said, waiting for her to argue, but she didn’t. When he looked at her again, ready to meet her gaze, she was looking up at him with her large yellow eyes, eyes filled with understanding. Once again he didn’t know how to feel.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel it?” she asked. “You don’t feel how everything around you is alive? Aware?” He said nothing, and she took this as an invitation. “Come” she stood up and turned in the direction of the forest. She lead him in deeper and deeper. “I don’t trust you enough, to take you anywhere sacred.”

“So where are ya takin’ me?” He was intrigued, and stared down in awe. It was still dark, but he could see her clearly, the playful flicks of her tail, the open mouthed smile that spread joy across her whole face, the small shining spots that covered her body. Her eyes sparkled with the very essence of her emotions. ‘Is this what she was talkin’ about?’ he thought, ‘I see you’ Because he had never seen her like this inside those metal walls, no. Out here she was different, she was open and free. He was beginning to feel the same way. By the time she stopped, they were deep in the forest. Trees stretching far higher into the air than he had seen before, large leaves littered the trunks, small gecko looking creatures spun in the air.

She stepped backwards smiling at him and sat down, her legs crossed. She gestured for him to join her. He sat, watching her intently as she pulled her Queue. Quaritch mimicked her movements, she held out the sensitive branches at the end of her braid and connected them to the ground beneath her. Again he copied her movements. And that’s when he felt it, he felt like he was bathing in light. He felt everything around him, the trees next to him breathing in the carbon around them, the animals that were landing on the branches or plants that were way out of his line of sight. It was too much. He jumped up, almost falling back in his shock.

“What the-”

“Quaritch-”

“NO!” she flinched back from him stepping back ever so slightly. He had threatened her, he had manhandled her, but he had never yelled, no that was a scream. “What was that”

“You felt an echo, an echo of Eywa” he looked at her with nothing but anger and distrust. “You can try and say I am lying, but you felt it! something you could never have felt as a human. Everything is connected! You could connect with Eywa directly, but I don’t-” she paused.

“Yeah, ya don’t trust me.”

“How can I? You are only now starting to ‘see’ the beauty of this planet, yet are helping to destroy it.”

“I-”

“I have seen the struggle in you Quaritch, you feel drawn to her. To Eywa.”

“Don’t try to tell me what I am feelin’!” he warned. Sympathy filled her eyes.

“Please, just listen to me” He was agitated and distrusting. What he had felt made him question everything, everything that he had believed, everything that he had been taught about this planet was wrong. “I know your confused, It’s like a crisis of faith. I didn’t believe in Eywa, before-.” She paused swallowing hard. “Before Grace died, but her dying words were ‘she’s real, I am with her. I am with Eywa’ Grace was the most objective and fact ruled person that I have ever met, she was in her human body yet she connected with the great mother and she is with her now. I’ve seen her through the tree of souls” Quaritch rubbed his large hands over his face, he groaned. He couldn’t comprehend this. It was too much. He turned and tried retracing his steps back to the Ikran, he needed to get out of the forest. As he stormed away all he could think was if Jake Sully hadn’t helped kill him in his so called former life he wouldn’t have to contend with these emotions. He wouldn’t have to think about all this, feel this guilt or struggle. He hated him for this reason and this reason alone, his mission was a way for him to vent this anger without being questioned. (Y/N) said nothing, just followed behind him. He reached his Ikran and attempted to climb it, ready to head back to base. “Please, don’t make me go back yet” He paused, he had realised today just how painful it was for her to be trapped in that room. No connection to the world she loved so much and it tugged at him in a way that he wished more than anything it didn’t. He would sort that out later though. For now they would stay, he would give her this. He used the excuse mentally that he needed to conduct himself mentally before returning to his team.

“Fine, two more hours, that's it. Then we go back.” She smiled at him, only slightly, but she showed her appreciation. Her ears raised and her tail curled slightly upwards. She walked over to a more densely grassed covered area, and laid down. She let out a long breath.

“I wont teach you anything more today, I think I overwhelmed you, I am sorry.” He was sat down next to her not looking at her at all.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with worse.” She chuckled slightly

“I do want ya ta teach me one more thing today” He looked at her then, expectedly. She leaned up on her elbow and stared at him with confusion. She hadn’t expected any of this. His eagerness to learn.

“What is it?” She asked and he lifted up his Queue and allowed the sensitive ends to wriggle in the open air.

“What is this thing? I know it allows me to connect to other things on Pandora but, I feel like there is more too it than that.”

“You’re right, the Na’vi use their Queue’s to bond with the world around them, the animals and Eywa. I’m sure the scientists explained how its connected to the base of the skull and brain?” She quizzed him unsure about how to approach the topic of mating with him. It shouldn’t be uncomfortable? It’s just information.

“Yeah taught us it would be real painful if it was cut off” The women grimaced at his words.

“That’s a very redundant way of explaining it”

“To cut someone’s Queue would be like cutting off a limb. It’s considered shameful for a Na’vi to be without his Queue, its his way to connect with the world around him and the people”

“People?” He was intrigued looking down at her own Queue. She held the end against her chest, almost defensively she could tell what he was thinking. His body language was easy to read.

“Yes, to connect to another Na’vi is sacred. It’s how Na’vi mate.”

“Mate?”

“Yes” She laughed at him. “They really didn’t explain any of this?” It shouldn’t have surprised her. The military had one goal with the recons, have the advantage. Unlike the Avatar program they weren’t supposed to assimilate.

“They just told us it was sensitive and to keep it safe really, not to use it on anything...”

“Making Tsaheylu, the bond with another person would be the equivalent of two humans getting married.” Quaritch froze. “It’s for life” her words struck him to his core, he knew Na’vi lived their lives with partners but he didn’t realise it was something that was so deeply spiritual, but he couldn’t help the almost crude question that left his mouth.

“So Na’vi only marry and have sex with one person for their whole lives” He scoffed. “Prudes” (Y/N) laughed and even rolled on her side from the laughter. She leaned up and sat up facing him bracing her weight on her hands.

“They really taught you nothing” he raised an eyebrow, it was a taunting look. encouraging her to explain. “Sex is different to Mating. Having sex outside of a bond is frowned upon but not forbidden. However making the bond with another person is a serious commitment, it changes you. You become connected to that person in every way, you see them.” He was silent taking in the information. “And you can bond with several people but one relationship doesn't end to start another. Polyamory is a common practice amongst the people, but each mate is a commitment and you are responsible for them in every way. Each partner is responsible to make sure their mate is safe, happy, healthy all of the normal relationship stuff. It’s just that most Na’vi choose to be bonded to one mate. The first person you make Tsaheylu, well some people have said that that one person makes everyone else seem like background noise.” Quaritch had been quiet the whole time, he hadn’t interrupted her, until his next question.

“Did Sully tell you that? The background noise thing?”

“Damn, you’re obsessed with him. Next you’re going to ask me if he’s good in bed.” Quaritch’s spine straightened and an unforeseen amount of shock was displayed on his face.

“How would ya know that?” He was furious, he didn’t know why. The women began rolling around the grass laughing again. “Stop laughing and answer me” she didn’t “Don’t make me tell ya again or so help me i will throw you over my shoulder and we’ll head back to base.” she tried her best to calm down, raising her left hand in hopes that he would give her time.

“I- Don’t” she gasped out “But I wanted to see you’re face.” she let out several long breaths and gasped in air. He watched her, her cheeks flushed, eyes closed, and chest heaving. His own face began to burn and he threw his head up looking away from her.

“Not funny, at all” he said

“It was a little bit” she indicated this with her thumb and pointer finger. He still wasn’t looking at her when he asked the next question, one that took her off guard.

“So you’ve never slept with anyone in your Na’vi body?” she paused. This was rather blunt of him. It was an invasive question and she wasn’t sure how to respond to it.

“That’s a personal question.” She started playing with loose fabric around her ankles. Not wanting to meet his gaze.

“Ya right, I’m sorry” he then smirked “Guess I’ve got to call ya virgin now?” he was laughing trying to take his mind off the rage he felt from those two seconds where he thought she had slept with that man.

“Really?” she gaped at him in shock and slapped at his biceps. “You’re one crude, crude man”

“Well ya ain’t denying it”

“Is that what you want? me to tell you whether or not I've slept with someone in this body?”

“You don’t have to tell me nothin’ princess, but I can tell either way, you haven’t been fucked right in a long time” she was stunned, she had no idea how to respond.

“Is that so”

“Yep” He was curt, and didn’t want to press any further.

There was a silence between them, somehow his words kept having this effect on her the way he spoke sent shivers down her spine, and she liked it, but she didn’t know what to say. So she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

“I slept with Norm” Quaritch’s head snapped to look at her, he was furious again.

“The limp dick science major that tailed ya, Sully and ya sister?” His anger thrilled her, she wanted to respond with. ‘Not so limp dicked’ but she knew she would push him too far and she didn’t know how to respond. He shook his head, he was muttering under his breath, but he refused to meet her eye.

“It was a one time thing if that means anything to you” (Y/N) tried to act casual shrugging her shoulders.

“Okay?” he stood up “Ya gonna tell me you mated with the idiot as well?” he turned around and started walking over to his Ikran. (Y/N) scrambling to keep up with him.

“No? of course not, that’s not something I would do casually.”

“Well clearly there’s a lot ya do casually, like taking men into the woods, is that how ya did it? Snuck into the woods and let him fuck ya?” She was hurt by his words. It didn’t matter how or why it happened, he was humiliating her and shaming her for it, and that wasn’t okay. She wanted to scream at him ‘fuck you’ but she knew that he would say something worse. He was already in the air flying in the direction of the base when she found herself on her own Ikran. Not a word was spoken when they arrived back, night had fallen by this time. He simply stomped behind her. When they reached her cell, he didn’t say goodbye or make a comment like he normally would, he simply locked the door and left her there in shock at his behaviour. Why was he so angry? Even he didn’t know, and he hated not knowing. On his way back to his own quarters he ran into Lyle and was greeted with jeers and laughter. Lyle has spider held tightly in his grip

“Did you have a good time out there Colonel?”

“What?” He knew what they were implying but he needed them to say it, he needed to hit something

"What are you doing with the kid?" He quizzed.

"The General had some questions, since you were busy" He threw a wink at Quaritch, the act grinding down on his already thin patience . "So we interrogated the kids" He looked down at the boy, his head was hung low. He looked tired and filled with anger. "So did you?" Lyle asked, slightly confused at the Colonels behaviour.

"What?" He asked again.

“Did you get some ass? Cus if you can than any of us have a chan-” Lyle was cut off by a strong angry blow to the face. One, that is all it took. And the recom was laying on his ass, hands to his face. “What the fu-” The blow had caused Lyle to drop Spider from his grasp. Quaritch catching him before he hit the floor.

"Show some fuckin’ respect lieutenant, I am your superior” Lyle nodded in response. "Take the kid back to his room, Not a scratch. Understood?" Lyle nodded again and moved out of the way allowing the Colonel to walk into his room, slamming the door in anger. Sitting down on his bed changing into his sleep cloths. As he laid there trying to sleep he realised. That what he felt wasn’t just anger it was jealously. He didn’t understand why, and Lyle? Well he realised that Lyle was saying in no certain terms what he had said to her face. And hearing the words repeated back to him he was pissed. He had acted like and ass and he needed to make amends. Groaning Quaritch rubbed his hands over his face. His now not causing pain at contact, He needed to figure out why the fuck the idea of her sleeping with someone pissed him off so much. He wasn’t the kind of person to judge people for being sexually active, he knew that wasn’t the case. After a period of time, he gave in and admitted to himself what he didn’t want too. The idea of her sleeping with anyone let alone Norm enraged him, because he wanted to be the only one. The only one to touch her. But he knew she would never have him, she would never see him.

Tag list: @perseny @ensique @bothersome-anon-pt2 @liadamerondjarin @katkat1918 @dakotali @kristinavane28 @scarletpines @confusedmuggle @confitxre @turningemo @gremlinfuck @rosiepetalss @capitanostella @the-wandering-pan-ace @secretnerd00 @aleshyaaaaa @gayschlatt69 @kacchasu @julielightwood @nat-the-geminini @alidemour @bloodyymansworld @altara-noodle-dergg @rdeville @exactlygroovyking @themedsaintworkin @capitanostella

As always let me know if you want to be tagged, I take my time to make sure I can tag everyone who asks. And don't be afraid to comment! I love seeing what you guys think.

#(y/n #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #colonel quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #na’vi #na’vi quaritch #reader insert #na'vi miles quaritch series #miles quaritch x reader #smut

525 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 3 months

Text

Captain America: Civil War - 2

Summary: After Peggy's funeral, Steve, Sam and you go to Bucharest to track down Bucky before the FBI kills him, or at least tries to.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Here's part two of Civil War and the first look into a Bucky x Reader relationship! That's my goal, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It’s been a sad few days for Steve, he’s been crying a lot after the news that Peggy died.

You and Sam offered to go with him to the funeral so now you’re both sitting in the first row as Steve and five other guys carry the coffin.

“And now, I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words.” the priest says and Steve’s old neighbor Agent 13, steps up to the podium.

Your eyes widen a little in shock and elbow Sam while looking at her, then Sam nudges Steve and nods to her.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of SHIELD… but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” Sharon starts the eulogy and you look at Steve who's just as surprised to see her. “She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.”

She looks directly at Steve before continuing. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move… it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say ‘No. You move.’.”

Her words hit you deep, and you’re sure they hit Steve deep, too.

Peggy was clearly a very smart woman, and the fact that she helped found SHIELD and was such a badass made her your inspiration when you were a trainee and ever since you became an agent. Sharon’s words just made you more and more sure that not signing the Accords is the right thing to do.

After the funeral Steve asks you and Sam for a moment alone, so you hug him before letting him have some peace, making your way to the hotel you’re all staying at with Sam.

You’re in the hotel bar when the news comes on with the bombing in Vienna. You and Sam exchange a worried glance and set out to find Steve right away.

You find him near the elevators with Sharon just as the elevator arrives.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Sharon says and as Steve answers “Sure” you get close to them.

“Steve.” you grab his attention.

“There’s something you gotta see.” Sam finishes.

We all go up to Sharon’s hotel room to turn on the news that’s all about the UN bombing in Vienna and how the culprit is believed to be James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier HYDRA asset and formerly known as Sergeant Barnes, Steve’s best friend.

They talk about the death of King T’Chaka and you look at Steve who seems as concerned as you are as you quietly say. “That’s not good.” And he agrees with a nod.

“I have to go to work.” Sharon says and you all know what has to be done.

Sam, Steve and you flew to Vienna with Sharon and now you and Sam are in a coffee shop waiting for Steve while he talks to Natasha.

“How can you eat at a time like this?!” you whisper shout to Sam, annoyed.

“What am I supposed to do, starve?” He answers and you roll your eyes but before you can say anything back, Steve steps next to him.

“She tell you to stay out of it?” you ask him, knowing Natasha pretty well.

“Might have a point.” Sam comments casually.

“He'd do it for me.” Steve says back.

“1945, maybe.” Sam says and you roll your eyes and try to be a little more sensitive than Sam.

“I just want to make sure we consider all our options.” you gently say, but Sam cuts in.

“Yeah, the people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at us.” He says and can’t really fight him on that, he’s not wrong.

Sharon appears next to Steve and starts talking quietly without looking at any of us.

“Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter soldier goes to their gym. Most of it is noise. Except for this.” She slides Steve a file. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that's all the head start you're gonna get.”

“Thank you.” Steve says as he takes the file.

“And you're gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” she says and leaves as the three of you exchange a worried glance. Without wasting any time, you make your way out of the coffee shop and to the airport, destination: Bucharest.

You get to the right address and go separate ways. Sam gets to the roof of the building that Steve enters to look for Barnes and you go to the roof of the other building, where you have an eye on both Sam and, thanks to the scope on your rifle, you can see Steve even through the covered windows.

You see Steve enter the small apartment and look around, then he goes to the kitchen and picks up what looks like a notebook and opens it. Then you hear Sam’s voice through the comms.

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south.” You notice movement behind Steve as Sam talks.

“Understood.” Steve says as you see Barnes has entered the apartment.

“Steve, turn around.” You tell him through the comms and he slowly does.

“Do you know me?” You can hear Steve ask, but can’t hear Bucky’s response because he's talking too quietly.

“They've set the perimeter.” Sam says, but you’re still focused on Bucky inside the building.

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be.” You hear Steve say, “But you're lying.” You can see Bucky’s lips moving, but at this angle you can’t really read his lips.

“They're entering the building.” Sam says and you finally take your attention away from the apartment and look around the building as you hear Steve talk.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive.”

“Sam, they’re on the roof.” You say through the comms.

“She’s right, I'm compromised.” He says.

“This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck.” Steve says.

“5 seconds.” Sam says in your ear.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?” Steve keeps trying to get through to Bucky.

“3 seconds!” You say as you see them about to breach the apartment.

“Yes, you do!” Steve almost yells before you hear Sam yelling in your ear.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” you see a grenade crash through the window. Bucky kicks it to Steve, and he smothers it with his shield.

You see Bucky shielding himself with the mattress against an attack from the window, then he blocks the door with a table as cops swing in on cables. Steve pulls the rug from under a policeman, sending him flying. Bucky slams another policeman into the wall.

“Buck, stop! You're gonna kill someone.” you hear Steve say before Bucky slams him down and punches a hole in the floor right next to his face.

You faintly hear him say, “I'm not gonna kill anyone.” Before he pulls something out the floor, throws it out the building and it lands near you.

You’re about to go see what’s in it but are distracted by Bucky and Steve hiding behind the shield together before Bucky shoves Steve into a cop and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

Bucky holds up his metal hand and repels bullets, then slams a cop into some shelves. He picks up a large cement brick and slams it into a cop and you can see Steve fighting another cop on the balcony.

You see Bucky punch through the wall beside the door. He steps into the hallway and you lose sight of him, a second later Steve steps into the hallway and you lose him too.

“You have a visual, Sam?” You ask through the comms and he answers with a simple ‘No’.

You hear Steve say “Come on, man.” and hear his grunting as he fights.

After a minute you hear Steve say “Y/N, he’s coming your way.” and you frown.

“What do you mean he’s-” Before you can answer you can see Bucky jumping out a balcony and you let out a quiet “Holy shit.” that makes Steve groan and Sam snicker.

Bucky lands not too far away from you and, before he can get to his backpack, you put yourself in front of him so he can’t get to it.

“Hello, soldier.” you say in a teasing and vaguely flirting tone, but he simply looks at you for half a second before throwing a punch that you avoid and quickly say “Not a talker. Got it.” Before throwing a punch of your own that he easily stops, holding your arm as he sweeps your legs and in a second you’re on the ground.

Bucky picks up his backpack and runs, but a big man all dressed in black, a full face mask with pointed ears, slams into him and knocks him down. He extends his fingers and sharp claws pop out and he attacks Bucky with sweeping kicks and slashes.

Bucky fights back but is kicked into a wall, the figure swipes his claws and spins gracefully. Bucky narrowly avoids being slashed, holding up a metal bar to protect himself.

You get up and get closer to them to try and help Bucky. You kick the man off of him and protect Bucky by standing in front of him in a fighting stance.

“Bad kitty.” you tell him and can hear Steve and Sam simultaneously say “Seriously, Y/N?”

“Sam, southwest rooftop.” you hear Steve say as the cat man lunges at you.

“Who the hell's the other guy?” Sam asks.

“About to find out.” Steve answers while you try your best to not get killed by the overgrown cat you’re fighting at the moment. The man manages to slam you into a wall and lunges at Bucky with his claws, but Bucky grabs his wrists.

You’re about to help but a soldier fires a machine gun from a chopper, the ammo bounces off the man’s armored suit who’s now on top of Bucky, but you’re forced to hide to avoid the bullets.

You hear Steve call for Sam’s help and Sam answers with a “Got him.” before he flies down and shoves the chopper off course, then swoops towards street level.

Bucky breaks free from his attacker, slings his bag on his back, runs and jumps down a level, and the other man slides down the wall using his claws for traction. Bucky lands at street level and the chase continues. Steve follows and lands rolling along the ground.

You watch them from the edge of the roof and sigh. “Okay, I can’t do that.” You look up in search of Sam. “Sam, I need a ride.”

“I got you.” He says as he swoops down and picks you up, taking flight again to follow the others while you hang on to him for dear life.

Gunfire from the chopper tears up the sidewalk, Bucky jumps down through an opening, lands in an underpass and he runs through the traffic. Cat Suit and Steve drop down and chase after Bucky as a Special Forces Vehicle pursues all of them.

You see Steve leap onto the vehicle and splinter the windshield and, when the driver stops, Steve yanks him from the vehicle and kicks the windshield out, then drives off.

Bucky runs over the top of a speeding car, outpacing it and Cat Suit is a few cars behind, keeping pace with him. Then he leaps on the back of the 4x4 that Steve's driving and Steve swerves from side to side, trying to throw him off.

“Sam, I can't shake this guy.” He says into the comms.

“We’re right behind you.” Sam says as you fly behind him.

Several police cars join the chase and you see Steve side-swipe another car and drive on.

Bucky leaps over a barrier and Steve drives through it, then you can see Bucky grab the handlebar of an incoming motorcycle and spin the bike around in mid air, throwing the rider off as he gets on the bike himself, riding away and sending cars careering out of the way.

Steve keeps on Bucky's tail with Cat Suit holding onto the back of his car. They all rocket through another underpass and Sam flies into the underpass.

Cat Suit leaps off the front of Steve’s car onto Bucky's motorbike and Bucky flings him over his head and the bike leans down on its side. Bucky kicks his assailant away, straightens up and rides on.

Cat Suit catches a ride on one of Sam’s legs and Sam tries to kick him away. Bucky throws a sticky bomb and blows up the roof at the end of the underpass, bringing down tons of rubble.

Sam tells you to hang on and you can feel his grip tighten on you as he stops and throws the Cat Suit man into the rubble. He throws Bucky off the motorcycle as Steve swerves the car through the rubble and leaps out, running as Bucky and the Cat roll on the ground.

When they stop the Cat is on Bucky right away but Steve jumps on him and pulls him off Bucky.

Steve stands up, facing the sleek and muscular overgrown black cat as the police arrive and surround you all, guns aimed. War Machine leaps down from above and raises both his suit hands, guns drawn.

“Stand down, now.” Rhodey says, aiming at Bucky and Steve who are standing side by side and at the Cat Suit Guy. Steve puts his shield on his back again as Rhodey continues. “Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal.”

Police move in and force Bucky to his knees. The Cat raises his hands as a cop moves Steve's arms behind his back and you and Sam are also handcuffed and brought closer to the others by two police men. The cat retracts his claws and pulls off his mask revealing his face and you’re all shocked to see it’s King T'Challa.

“Your highness.” Rhodey says as Bucky's hauled flat on the ground and getting handcuffed.

You all get arrested, forced to change out of our suits and gears and taken to Berlin. Bucky is restrained inside a glass-walled pod surrounded by armed guards.

In an SUV sits T’Challa on front, then you, then Steve and last Sam. You’re quietly going through traffic until Sam very respectfully breaks the silence. “So, you like cats?”

“Sam.” Steve warns him while you snort in amusement, looking out the window to avoid what you’re sure will be a disappointed glare from Steve.

“What?” Sam continues. “Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?”

“Your suit…” Steve ignores Sam and addresses T’Challa. “Is it Vibranium?”

“The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior.” T’Challa finally speaks up. “And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Oh, no. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king... how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

The silence that follows is deafening, as none of you know or want to give an answer to that, and you’re sure T’Challa doesn’t expect one.

“Sorry about King T’Chaka…” You say quietly after a moment.

“Don’t worry, miss Y/LN. He will be vindicated.” He answers back without missing a beat.

You look back at Steve and Sam and they both look as worried as you feel.

This is not going to end well, is it?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

107 notes · View notes

mango-dolphin · 1 year

Text

playing a game with myself called "inventing a man and scaring myself with it"

Note: Not all of these predictions are meant to be taken literally, more figuratively/metaphorically/so on. You get it. Note 2: lighter the text, the more likely i think it is to be (in part or in full) true

ALSO. thank you @maxknightleyunofficial for the yuri box.

bingo transcribed below [with additional Author's notes!]:

Limbus Company Predictions

Row 1:

Sinner Number correlates to recruitment order. (Which, yes, would imply Dante joined LCB before Sinclair, Outis, and Gregor. No points)

Another character based on a poet (or philosopher) is introduced. HM: Ovid SWEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meursault's source material is his backstory: he works for the LCB because they saved him from the death penalty

The E.G.O gear the Sinners are attuned to all corrode because the gear or their attunements are imperfect. As in: your LC nuggets got that good shit [because the LCB doesn't have Cogito & can't manufacture E.G.O gear: the Sinners have to "connect" to the Abnormality instead, however that works] / are better [than the LCB Sinners]

The psychosis warning is for multiple Cantos and/or side stories, but one of the Cantos needing that warning is Meursault's.

Row 2:

Sinclair goes tree mode. I will not explain any further.

Limbus Company wants to be the new L Corp, or at least be continually influencial to whoever takes the spot.

The Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; [it will be] a constant theme. Dante cannot "eat" (the apple), and thus is not "doomed to die" like the Sinners.** **The Sinners are named thus because they "partook" in the fruit: these moments, from blissful yet tormentous naivete to a sudden sinful upheaval, are highlighted in their Cantos. Gregor's was cutting the apple (crossing the boundary from child to war machine); Rodion's was killing the tax collector (her desire to be a hero completely upended by her actions leading to the deaths of all her neighbors); Sinclair's was following Kromer / letting her into his life (specifically allowing Kromer into his basement and witnessing The Horrors)... **This could imply LCB as the serpent in the garden, but more than anything, Dante is Eve. [Iori could also be the serpent she's got the range. swagever. It'd be funny.] HM: Or even worse, the opposite is true.

Sinners will get upgraded versions of their base E.G.Os; These versions have relation to the shadows cast in their E.G.O portrait.

Ishmael's white whale is a Library of Ruina character.

Row 3:

Faust's Faustian Bargain is classically straightforward: she "sold her soul" for knowledge. HM: The Devil in this exchange is the LCB.

Outis is in the middle of her years-long Odyssey as we speak. HM: It's why she's one of the last Sinners

Purgatorio & Paradiso

Outis, Don Quixote, and Hong Lu are using fake names

Dante (prior to the events of the game) has been on the Outskirts of the City, or even left City limits. HM: They're from outside the city

Row 4:

Gregor is an abnormality / abnormality-like; Hermann's "gift" to him is that. [Honestly he'd be one in the same way Tomerry is, but further than that? He's more than just a genetically modified soldier is what I'm trying to get at.]

Iori

^ HM: Lion, Panther, and Wolf were sent to Dante as a test. [Idk what kind of test it'd be. Trust me.]

At least one Sinner will Distort, and possibly multiple Likely Hong Lu, Ryoshu, Rodion, Heathcliff, Faust, or Meursault. Don seems obvious.* *Colors are likelihoods, not pairs. Though I don't see it likely that they all will distort UNLESS SOMETHING FUCKING HAPPENS *ADDITIONAL hard mode (so hard it's mode): Meursault Distorted before joining Limbus

the golden boughs are the remnants of Carmen's body or essence / the byproduct of the Seed of Light. [That's NERVOUS SYSTEM, baybee!]

Dante goes to Paradiso alone / with only Vergilius (I forgot how it went :( idr if Dante Dante's Inferno went up there alone)

Row 5:

Something bad happened to Gregor's sister :( HM: She's still alive. This is a bad thing. [Leaving my wording vague here on purpose.]

Marie (L'Étranger) is in the Blue Team (with Demian); Gretchen (Faust) is in the Red Team (with Hermann). Gretchen switches teams? [Honestly likely Faust hasn't encountered Gretchen either!]

There is yuri moments and maybe even yaoi moments (not Yuri) SINCLAIR. Yi Sang, Outis, Ishmael, Meursault, Outis again, Hong Lu, HM: Outis Wife Penelope

Angela.

Dante knew Carmen

#mango japery #limbus company #projmoon #bingo #oh god transcribing that took forever. WOE #i'll stand by my golden bough theory it feels way too obvious #carmen LOVES haunting the fucking narrative have you guys taken a look at the decals & graphics in the UI lately #she's in the ID cards she's in the title cards are you fucking kidding me #could've sworn she's in more but my man..... my guy.......... *breathes heavily

244 notes · View notes

captain-pheonix · 3 months

Note

Blu scout and red sniper getting into a fight on the battlefield, but its just insanely homosexual?

A/N: Yes!!! Thank you sending this in 🤣 also sorry it took so long life has been busy plus I got a million bouts of writers block trying to finish this 😞

Caught ya.

Sniperscout/speeding bullet Oneshot (Scout x Sniper)

Warnings: Maybe a teeny eeny bit suggestive? Blood, knives, death before respawn, yelling if that’s triggering, Scout and Sniper beating each other up

Sniper could hear bullets firing and loud screams from every direction. He had just respawned from the other Soldier killing him for the fourth time. He seemed to have been getting targeted recently.

“Bugger.” He grumbled under his breath. He stepped out of spawn and he heard calls for help coming from the right of him. Sniper ran and started fumbling down the staircase to intel as fast as he could. He lifted his rifle to his face and looked out the scope rounding the corner, but his field of view was instantly splattered with red. He could hear blood-curdling screams of pain and familiar laughter. Sniper froze up. The Scout had been cackling like a hyena, dominating him at least once in every battle for the past week. What did he find so funny? Whatever the reason for this sudden interest, Sniper wanted to know before he personally assassinated him when the battle was over.

The Australian threw his gun to the ground, but he couldn’t manage to get his Kukri before the Scout knocked him hard against the back wall, aiming straight at his head.

“Ha. Maybe I should be your new Sniper. Your aim is TERRIBLE!” The Scout chuckled, then everything faded to black.

The familiar clicking noise, and Sniper was thrown back into spawn once again. He had to come up with a strategy, or nothing would get done this battle.

He began thinking before leaving spawn. The administrator sounded over the speakers: “Your intelligence has been dropped.” Sniper knew one thing: the Scout was going to come back to get the case when he respawned. If he could ambush him before he got there, he might have a chance.

Sniper headed to the intel room and waited around the corner.

Some time had passed and he was starting to wonder if he should just give up sitting there. Then, he heard the fast pattering of footsteps echo through the rock and concrete walls.

Sniper pounced at the Scout’s legs as soon as he rounded the corner, intel falling off his back and knocking them both to the cold floor.

“CAUGHT YA, YA LIL’ PRUDE!” Sniper shouted aggressively. He looked at the scout squirm for a moment caught under his grip like a wild animal. Then he just stopped.

“Fine, hot stuff, you win.” The Bostonian looked at Sniper and made eye contact. His face had a cheeky and sly expression on it, despite him being extremely red in the face. Was that just Exertion? What was going on? It seemed like he wanted to be caught.

“What’d’ya want from me!?” Sniper asked him. “Because I’m gonna—“ Scout cut him off with a sharp blow to the face. Sniper was knocked into the ground in pain, and Scout was kneeling over him, giving him several more weaker punches. His blue shirt getting slowly more painted in Sniper’s blood.

Sniper snatched his Kukri and slashed it across the BLU Scout’s face. He let out a high pitched yell, and Sniper took the chance to push him into the wall, pinning the smaller man down again.

Scout opened his eyes to find Sniper’s sweltering angry face, which he only smiled back at.

“Oh, you’re smilin’ now? Think that’s funny?” Sniper muttered.

“Nope. I think it’s super terrifying…in a hot way.”

“WHAT!? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Scout managed to shimmy his hand out of Sniper’s, and he brushed it under his chin before kangaroo punching the Australian down to the ground with his leg. Now it was Scout’s turn to pin him down. His Kukri was just out of reach, but it didn’t stop Sniper from trying to grab it.

“Quit wigglin’, already.” Scout smiled down at him.

“Agh. You bloody—“ Sniper was cut off by Scout leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Been trying ‘ta get your attention all week. Don’t lie, I’ve seen how you look when you’re about to shoot me. You get all red and you have a hard time aiming for me? Sound familiar?”

Sniper broke eye contact, embarrassed.

“An’ when my other teammates a’ there, you always go for them first. I’ve noticed a little pattern with you, Snipes.”

Sniper was dead silent. Now it was his turn to become beat red. “…fine. Maybe I don’t wanna shoot someone who isn’t as much of a maniac as everyone else in this dump.”

“When we met at the bar, I might’ve got a tiny hallway crush too…” Scout looked at him, confident but red enough to explode.

Sniper pulled him into a kiss. Something Sniper could’ve only dreamed of. He reached up to hold his waist. Scout’s hand drifted up to rest on Sniper’s face.

A gunshot shot out one of the security cameras from their right, breaking the kiss.

One of the team’s spies re-cloaked and ran out of the room.

————————

Haha hopefully that was gay enough. I do in fact love writing gay little men. Thanks for sending this in! 😂 and thanks for reading, dear viewer!

#team fortress two #tf2 #scout tf2 #tf2 scout #sniper tf2 #scout x sniper #sniperscout #speeding bullet #tf2 fanfiction

44 notes · View notes

bonitanightmxres · 6 months

Text

Haunted (Part III) || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

MINI SERIES SYNOPSIS: It was hard trying to move past Simon's death, but it’s even harder when the third anniversary is looming and the nightmares are back.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After the revelation from your therapy session, you confront the man responsible for it all... only, it doesn't go according to plan.

WARNINGS: angst, some fluffy moments

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

a/n: in honor of early access day, here y'all go! [no spoilers]

–THEN–

It’d been only a couple weeks since they brought his body home. They were torturous weeks of living in an empty home, and you were ridden with denial. It really wasn’t true… was it? This was all some horribly messed up dream that you couldn’t wake up from. But you remembered the day that John Price knocked on your door. Confused when you answered it to find that Johnny and Kyle stood back behind John. They were all dressed in proper uniforms, like they took their time with their appearance. You’d never seen them look so prim, and it brought a small, teasing grin to your face.

“Where’s Simon and his little uniform?” You joked, knowing that he’d do anything to get out of looking so sharp and clean. Peering around the door, and the sides of the house, you look for him. Obviously, he would be hiding from you, but none of the men laughed—not even Johnny. Price barely looked you in the eyes. Every time he opened his mouth, it seemed like he couldn’t put a sentence together. Kyle seemed to avoid your gaze too, finding more interest in looking at his boots than at you. Your smile faded when you realized that you’d never seen any of them at such a loss for words. When it was obvious that Simon wasn’t hiding in the bushes, your stomach dropped…

“What’s wrong?”

John cleared his throat, “Simon Riley was killed in action…”

To this day, you don’t even remember the rest of what John told you. You had zoned out, your ears ringing, and your head spun so much that you almost fainted. Or maybe you did. You didn’t even really know. Despite your lack of memory, Johnny, Kyle, and Price remember it all. The way you collapsed to the ground, and Price catching you; the way the other two rushed to your aid. And the way they’d never heard such a blood-curdling wail. Johnny remembers it loud and clear; Kyle shivers just thinking about it. And Price wanted nothing more than to forget the permanent stain your tears left on his heart.

So, now, weeks since then, it was the first night you were going to have to accept the fact that you were alone for good. You’d just come home from his funeral services, finally putting him to rest. Everything seemed to go by in a blur–the drive there with Price, the whole hours-long service, handshakes and condolences from random soldiers and superiors who you’d never met… and the drive back. Today you hadn’t shed a single tear, you assumed because your body’s production couldn’t keep up with the pace you were letting them flow. Johnny and Kyle were already at your house when you and Price pulled into the driveway. They stood awkwardly around quiet as can be, as if noise would somehow bother you. It was funny, really; the way they rivaled statues.

“I-uh… I think I’m just gonna go lay down. Take a nap, maybe.” Your voice was hoarse and raspy, and your eyes nearly went blind from the brightness of the house when you took off your dark sunglasses. As you set them down on the counter, you give each of them a quick hug, thanking them for their support, and disappear into your bedroom. You hated it now, in all honesty. You hated the way Simon’s bedside table would always be neater than yours, the way his shoes still sat on the rack in the closet, or how his clothes would forever stay folded in the drawers next to yours. You wondered if leaving them untouched would preserve their smell. With the curtains closed, you kick off your shoes, and don’t even bother to change before you lay down. You lay on your side of the bed, out of habit, and bring your knees to your chest.

It would be okay, right? Tomorrow you’d wake up, and everything would be fine…

Though your eyes were shut from sleep, you could feel the tears burn and the sobs escape your throat. The sudden feeling of two strong hands grasping your arms and trying to shake you awake.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” the voice says softly. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“S-Simon?” You bolt up, sitting against the headboard of your bed, rubbing your eyes.

“N-no, it’s me… It’s John, sweetheart.” It hurts him to tell you, you can tell by the look in his eyes and how they’re full of sorrow. “You were havin’ a nightmare.”

You’re still dressed in your black dress and matching cardigan. From a quick glance to the mirror hanging on your wall, you can see the mascara painting a psychotic look underneath your eyes.

It kind of looked like Simon’s face paint…

“From the looks of it, I still haven’t woken up,” you trudge to the bathroom, washing away the ruined makeup before looking for comfortable clothes. John turns his head respectfully while you change. “It’s nearly four in the morning, John, what are you still doing here?”

“I planned on spending the night on the sofa.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you insist, “You’ve been spending a lot of time here, lately. I’ll be fine, trust me, and–and the girls–I–”

He offers a comforting smile accompanied by a small chuckle, “Sweetheart, you know I’d do anything for my girls, right?”

“Yeah…I-I know…”

How could anyone not know that? John was always a good dad, a great one at that. The look of pride he had whenever he talked about his daughters or the way he always looked at his wife like there was no woman more beautiful. His little family was picture-perfect, and nothing made you happier than seeing them all together.

“And you know that when my girls get scared in the middle of the night, I stay with them until they fall back asleep? Until they don’t need me anymore?”

“Yeah…”

“So that’s what I’m doing,” he kicked his shoes off and sat in your bed. With a pillow lying against his lap, he tapped it with his hand, gesturing for you to go and lay down. “I’m staying until you don’t need me anymore.”

Arguing with him would have been pointless, and to be honest, you didn’t want to. John Price might not have been your father, but he was the next best thing. As you lie down, he takes a hand and gently rakes it through your hair. How had he known to do that? Something so small and comforting. Laying there, you felt like a little girl again. His daughters were each aged 7, 5, and the youngest was nearing her first birthday; and you wondered if he comforted them in the same way.

He stayed every night for nearly three weeks.

Kyle and Johnny rotated shifts during the day, keeping you company while John went home and tended to his family. During the night though, John came back to ensure someone was with you especially while you slept. Guilt ate away at you for all the attention they gave you, putting their lives on pause just because you’d had a few nightmares. You’d apologized profusely–to John especially, since he was the one with a wife and kids; surely Mrs. Price was growing tired of taking care of the girls on her own. Still, John had reassured you by saying that he “made it up to her every day” and winked. It was really no wonder why they had three daughters, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they ended the year pregnant again.

–NOW–

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as the cold evening wind nipped at your cheeks and blew your hair into your face. As you walked toward the cafe around the corner, you open the message:

JOHN PRICE: I’m here. Hope you don’t mind I brought the little devil with me.

JOHN PRICE: [Attachment: 1 Image]

The youngest of the Price clan sat in his father’s lap, smiling widely with a cup of hot chocolate—the evidence all over his top lip. He looked like a cherubic angel, with his rosy cheeks from the cold. The little boy took after his mother in looks, but he had John’s eyes.

YOU: How cuuuuuuute!! I’m almost there :)

When you walk in, you’re greeted with the sweet aroma of pastries and savory breakfast items served at the tables around you. John smiled as you approached the table he saved, getting up to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead. Immediately, the boy reached his arms out to you, wanting to be sat in your lap instead of his own father’s. You took the little two year old without a second thought, having always loved to babysit and play with John’s kids whenever the couple needed.

“You should have told me you were walking here,” John says, sliding a cup of freshly brewed coffee toward you. “Could have given you a ride.”

“It would’ve been the shortest ride ever. I don’t live very far,” you argue. “Besides, the weather’s nice.”

John agrees, watching you happily stir the cloud of sugar and cream in your mug with his son mimicking your actions with an empty spoon in his hot chocolate. “I already ordered for us. I hope that’s alright, they should be coming out with them soon.”

“Thank God you did,” you laugh. “Everything smells good, I think I’d have trouble making a decision.”

John chuckles, and you spend the beginning of your cafe date catching up and filling each other in on the news. You thought it was cute, the way John’s life seemed to be filled with events and his childrens’ firsts— first falling of baby teeth, first straight-A report card, first concert—you wondered what that felt like. To be a parent hiding money under the pillow, buying a treat as a reward, or applauding the loudest and buying flowers. While you loved the Price family, and accompanied them to important events, you couldn’t help but feel like you were on the outside looking in… When it came to your life, there wasn’t much that he didn’t already know. Part of you didn’t think you’d ever find out what it would feel like to be the one with the busy family schedule.

Before you can get too lost in thought, a waiter comes by with your plates, and before you can take a bite of your own, John is scolding his son lightly for grabbing off your plate, “That’s not yours, lad. You have yours in front of you.”

“Let him be, John, it’s okay,” your eyes might as well have been shaped like hearts with the way you treated his son as he sat contentedly on your leg. You fed him small bites from your food and helped him slurp hot chocolate by bringing the mug to his little mouth. The smile he gave you once he licked the remaining whipped cream off his lips was enough to make you melt right there.

“I swear you spoil these kids more than they deserve.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s my job.”

“So,” John began, cutting up the food on his son’s plate into bite-sized pieces before digging into his own breakfast. “Not that I’m complaining, but we usually plan our little cafe get-togethers with more time in advance… so y’know, we can talk without interruptions. Something on your mind that can’t wait?”

“It was John Price.”

Dr. Fernández’s words replayed on loop in your head over the next few days, wondering how and why he thought it was a good idea to go to some therapist when you knew perfectly fine why and how your nightmares started. It wasn’t like they’d come out of nowhere. Plus, you’d always spared John the details. But Soap was the only one who really knew the gritty details, and only because he’d coerced them out of you.

“I saw Dr. Fernández the other day.”

“And how did it go?”

You shrug, “About as good as a therapy session can get, I guess. But she did have something interesting to say.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, raising a brow while taking a sip of coffee. “And what’s that?”

“She said that you’re the one who set up the meetings between us in the first place. That you’re the one told her about the nightmares starting again, which is impossible because I hadn’t told you about them yet. Now, MacTavish has a tendency to open his mouth and—”

John laughs abruptly, catching you off guard. Your blank stare makes him laugh even more, which only sends you further into confusion. “I don’t need Soap to report back to me with intel about you, sweetheart. I’m a father of four. A father of three girls. I know when you’re not being truthful.”

You can feel your cheeks turn red from embarrassment. If Johnny ever found out that you’d wrongly accused him of spilling your secrets, you’d never hear the end of it. Having someone as caring and thoughtful as John, who clearly was concerned enough to set you up with a therapist made you feel lucky. Of course Soap had been concerned and loving enough too, but that was besides the point.

As the three of you finish your meal, you use wipes that you carry in your purse to wipe the hands and mouth of the littlest Price who looked like he was ready for a nap. An elderly woman approached, smiling warmly, “Your son is just the most adorable thing I’ve laid eyes on,” she tells you.

Her poor observation makes your cheeks flush red, and you stutter, laughing nervously, “Oh! I–uh, no–I-I’m not–”

“He’s actually my son.” John intervenes, noticing the way you’re caught off guard. “Oh, I knew you were too young to be a grandfather!” She laughs, patting him on the shoulder, then turns to you, “ Do you have any children?”

Your cheeks turn redder by the second, “I–no.”

“That’s too bad,” she says. “You’d make a great mother, I can tell.”

With that, she walks out of the cafe, waving.

Waiting for John to pay the bill (since he swore he could never just let you do a nice thing for him), you wonder if the old lady was only one of many who thought that John’s children were your own. It wouldn’t have been far-fetched either; you could often be spotted out and about with them… maybe people had passed by and thought they’d simply be laying eyes on a mother with her kids. You didn’t want to admit how much that made you feel a kind of warmth inside that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Fatherhood on John had looked like a longer and grayer beard and defined little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Four kids would do that to you, you guessed. You wondered what motherhood would have done to you. Premature gray hair? Lots of wrinkles? No no, you definitely would have been a MILF. Simon would have been the one with premature gray hair and wrinkles, you knew that for a fact. With the way he stressed over things? Yeah, he’d need regular hair appointments to keep the gray in check. Then again, graying hair on a man… oof. Especially on Simon?? Maybe you would have been those hot parents whose teenage kids had friends that always wanted to come over because they had a crush on either of you. The thought made you giggle to yourself.

“Want me to take him?” John asks, as he stuffs his wallet into his pocket and reaches out for his son. He’s nervous about how the interaction with the lady settled with you. This could only go one of two ways… and your emotionless face is making him believe you’re gonna react that way.

But you smile and say, “It’s okay, I’ve got him.”

And John lets out a little sigh of relief. He hadn’t known the extent to which Simon had ever talked about kids with you, but it was something he wouldn’t shut up about when they talked about families.

“One day, when she’s ready…” Simon had said. But that didn’t stop him from running baby names by John whenever he thought of one.

John had just laughed, telling him that he needed to run it by you.

The lady from the cafe was right though, he thought. You’d make a terrific mother one day; and as he watched you carry his son in your arms like he was your own, he couldn’t help but start to feel a little guilty inside…

a/n: i have a feeling of where i want this story to go, but i’m conflicted😭😂

tag list!

@angelic-dreams13

@ilovehyperfixating

@titaniasfairy

@ghostlythots

#simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley imagines #simon riley angst #codmw #cod modern warfare #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost #simonghostriley #simon ghost riley fanfiction

86 notes · View notes