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kayhi808 · 3 months ago

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First Crush - 8

Your dinner & movie date was great! Dinner came out well. Bucky enjoyed it. He hadn't had a home cooked meal in a while. Bucky helps you clear the table, "I'll have to give Abby a bath & get her ready for bed, but if you want...to hang around for a bit..."

You feel his hands on your hips as he turns you around. "Yea, I think I can do that." He leans in & kisses you softly. His lips, soft but firm makes the butterflies in your belly take flight. You take his bottom lip between your teeth & tug, eliciting a soft moan from Bucky's throat.

"Mama?" Bucky jumps back, looking over his shoulder at Abby standing 3 feet away. "What doing?"

"Hey, Baby. I was on my way to get your bath started. Can you pick out your pajamas for me? You can also pick out 2 stories for tonight."

"Mama?"

"Yes."

She waddles over to hold Bucky's hand, "Can Bucky reads me a story"

You both look at Bucky. "Sure." He smiles down at her.

She claps & bounces up & down. "One story for Buckys & 2 story for yous."

"What? No, ma'am. You only get 2 stories. One for me & one for Bucky."

Abby bends over cackling, "I almost tricks yous."

"Nice try. Go find your pajamas & stories. We'll be right there." Abby skips out of the kitchen and then you're able to crack a smile. "She's only 3! By the time she's a teenager, she'll be too smart for me." Bucky drops a kiss at your temple as you pass him to get Abby's bath ready.

*****

Your evening didn't end like you would have hoped. Abby wouldn't fall asleep as long as Bucky was there. She came outside for water, monsters in her closet, monsters under the bed, to ask very important questions about Moana's Chicken if it knew how to swim in the ocean...Her interruptions were endless. Bucky left because Abby wouldn't go to sleep otherwise. Cockblocked by your own child!

You and Bucky decided that once he returns from this mission, you'd set time aside for a real date. Just the two of you. You've been so limited to lunches in your office or phone calls after Abby goes to sleep. You're dying to go on a grown-up date with Bucky.

Wednesday morning started like any other day, until an alert came in that Bucky's mission went sideways & the team suffered injuries. The med bay had to be alerted & prepped for the incoming quinjet. Bucky had been shot and one of the other agents under him was in serious condition.

It was hard for you to concentrate on work knowing Bucky was hurt. This is exactly what scared you about starting a relationship with Bucky. The fear you'll feel with every mission he leaves on. You both have kept it professional at work, but Bucky's friends know you've been seeing each other. You weren't assigned to Director Fury today, so you aren't abreast with details of the mission.

Sam drops by your office, "Hey."

Leaping up from your desk, "Sam! What happened? How is he?"

"He'll be fine. They're checking him out now. It was a through and through.

"And the other agent?"

"He's in surgery now, but it looks good." You nod, biting your bottom lip. "Want me to take you up?"

Tears fall, "I'm still working. I don't want Fury..."

Sam laughs, "Fury already knows EVERYTHING that happens here. It'll be quick. Once you see him, it'll put your mind at ease."

Wiping away your tears, "Please?" Sam nods & as you pass him, he puts his arm around your shoulder giving you a quick squeeze.

*****

You get to the med bay and Bucky is on a bed, his side patched up with a large bandage & his arm in a sling. You gasp & cover our mouth with your hands, trying to silence yourself. "Buck." It's the first time you've seen him without a shirt, you see the way his Vibranium arm in attached to him. The scars.

It's overwhelming. The abuse his poor body has taken.

"Hey, Doll." Sam nudges you towards the bed & leaves to give you both privacy.

You brush his hair off his forehead & drop a kiss on his brow before placing one on his lips. "Can I get you anything?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head clasping your hand in his, "Nope. This is good."

You know he's medicated, so you stay until he falls asleep before you leave him.

*****

You made arrangements with a neighbor to pick up Abby from daycare, so you can visit with Bucky after work.

When you get there, Natalie, Clint & Steve are there joking with him. He looks much better than this morning.

"Hey, doll! What are you still doing here?"

Lingering in the doorway, "I asked my neighbor if she could get Abby from daycare because I'd be a little late. I wanted to check on you before I left."

Clint teases, "You don't have to worry about him. He's like a cat with nine lives. Thankfully he's able to put himself in harms way to save the day, with his super serum."

"Shut up, man."

Natasha sees you flinch, "He'll be good as new. The serum does accelerate the healing process. There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a small smile, "Yea, that's good to hear."

"Y/N?" Bucky hears the strain in your voice.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. I...I wanted to know if you needed anything before I left but looks like you're well taken care of."

"Could you guys give us a minute?"

"No, I can't stay. I need to get Abby. I don't want to be an inconvenience; you know how Abby gets. We'll talk later." You quickly go to him & drop a kiss on his brow & turn to leave, giving a small wave to the others.

*****

The following morning Director Fury had you with him in meetings. When you got back to your office, you found Bucky sitting there waiting for you. "Bucky? What are you doing here? Did they release you already?" You notice the bruise and scrapes were already healed. He still had his arm in a sling though.

"You didn't answer your phone last night."

"I'm sorry. I texted you this morning. Abby was in a mood and I fell asleep early. I was real tired." Bucky just stares at you and it makes you nervous. "Did you want me to pick up lunch for you?"

He shakes his head & continues to stare at you until you finally make eye contact with him. "Talk to me, Y/N." He waits out your silence.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever's bothering you, we can talk it through. We can figure it out. At least give me a chance."

"I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning works best," getting comfortable in the chair, signaling he's not going anywhere.

"Abby's father. He was a fighter pilot with the Air Force. He had a dangerous job but he didn't die in the line of duty. It was because he was reckless. He was careless & lost control of his plane. He did that to himself."

"And you see him in me?" You see his jaw clench.

"I don't know. I know that i'm scared now. I feel more connected to you, than I did to Jason in the short time I've known you. My daughter absolutely adores you." You see a cocky smile on his face. "Those aren't good points, Bucky." Frowning at him, "Your job is dangerous and you risk your life to save others. I can't have someone else in my life who puts me & Abby second."

"And you think I'd do that?"

"I do. Clint said that because you're a Super Soldier, you take extra risks because you know you'll recover. You take a bullet for someone on the team because you know you'll survive and they will die. That's brave and heroic and I commend you on that."

"Y/N."

"But if I'm honest and selfish, if I let myself fall in love with you, where does that leave me? Abby? I don't think we have a place in your world. Your team, Mankind, will always outrank us."

"It's like you've got this all figured out."

Shaking your head, "I don't. And that's what scares me. If it was just myself I had to think about, my concerns would be different. I'd be willing to risk more." Taking a deep breath, "I'm protecting Abby the only way I know how."

"And if I promise to put you & Abby first?"

That wasn't an option you were expecting. "I don't understand."

Bucky stands and leans on your desk, "If I swear to put you and Abby first. Will you give us a chance?"

"How?"

"Let me work it out. I'm asking you to trust me? Can you do that? Can you give me time?" You silently nod as he pulls you in for a kiss. The chill of his vibranium hand on the nape of your neck giving you goosebumps. Or is it just the kiss itself?

Next chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x abigail rose

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baronessvonglitter · 5 months ago

Text

Darlin’ Cowgirl

Jack Daniels x f!reader

Word count: 3.1K

Summary: looking for a way out of a bachelorette party, an accidental butt dial becomes a booty call

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit and Mature, friends/coworkers to lovers, reader is at least 21, tipsy flirting/dancing, improper use of a mechanical bull, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, smut, dash of romance with a happily ever after, no use of y/n, reader has hair and wears a dress

Author's Note: this was the first one-shot I'd ever written on AO3 and decided to post here as well 🤠🥃

JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You aren't looking forward to the bachelorette party. You don't even like weddings, yet somehow you've been roped into being part of your old college roommate's wedding party simply because you ran into her at the grocery store a few months back. It was only when you had the bridal shower that you realized you were one of thirteen bridesmaids. Great. Now you'll feel even more invisible than you already do.

You've been in a slump lately, and the only thing bringing out of it is your devilishly handsome coworker Jack Daniels, aka Agent Whiskey. You're an Information Security Specialist for the Statesmen, an ultra-secret espionage agency, so naturally you keep the details of your job pretty hush-hush. Whiskey, as you affectionately call him, is one of your few confidantes, despite the fact that he flirts with you at every turn. You admit to yourself that it's a nice distraction from your loneliness, even if you feel his flirtatiousness is just a bit of fun for him, his own distraction.

You take your time in dressing up for the night: a spaghetti strap black minidress with a plunging neckline and silver cowgirl boots. At the bar you meet up with your fellow bridesmaids and the bride-to-be, who are all in shades of pink and white, near exact replicas of each other, nearly indistinguishable. You stick out like a sore thumb and you know it.

The bridesmaids want to take shots so you take some with them, hoping your anxiety will dilute just a little. Your inhibitions are lowered just a little, but not enough to go out to the dance floor with the others. You watch as others watch them, in admiration as they laugh and gracefully (despite the Buttery Nipple shots they'd all consumed just minutes ago) and wish you could be part of them. You hang back at the bar, politely declining offers to dance from men who come by to not-so-subtly ogle you. You feel like a piece of meat. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come out, knowing you hate places like this. However, just as you're about to order a Lyft, you get an incoming call from Whiskey himself.

Confused and blushing you go to a quieter place of the bar, which is still very loud. "Hello?" you practically shout into the phone.

"Hey darlin'!" you hear Jack's voice on the other end. "You called me?"

"Um.. no, I didn't.."

He chuckles, warm and low in your ear. "Yes you did, darlin'. I was hopin' you were okay."

You quickly check your call log and sure enough, you'd called him about fifteen minutes ago, when you and the bridesmaids were doing shots. "I must have butt-dialed you," you shout back, giggling.

"Aw, lucky me," he drawls. "That pretty ass was thinkin' about me?"

You're too flustered to reply.

"Where are you anyway? Loud as hell over there."

"I'm at a bar for a bridesmaid party."

"That one you were talkin' about earlier today? No invite, huh?"

You giggle again. "It's for women only."

"Exactly! That's my kinda good time!" You hear him chuckle again.

"Actually it's kinda lame. I'm thinking of calling it a night."

"Don't you dare," he says with mock authority. "Wait there a minute and I'll be on my way. Text me the address."

You hang up and text him, wondering what he's up to. You've never hung out with him after work, even with all the flirting you've both done. You think it's strictly professional with a touch of playfulness, but you've never been one hundred percent sure.

You hang out at the bar, wanting to be visible to him when he arrives, but it's only after you're returned from the ladies' room checking your makeup, outfit and hair, that you see him, well the back of him, and he's mingling with some of the bridesmaids, who are obviously taking a much-needed alcohol break from dancing.

You gently touch his shoulder. "Hey there, stranger."

He turns, smiling, and the look in his eyes becomes one of pure lust. He drinks you in, unabashedly. "Damn darlin', you look so good it hurts," he drawls.

You glance at the bridesmaids, most of whom are checking him out with flagrant interest. "Did you meet everyone? Kaitlyn's the bride-to-be," you introduce them.

"I have, and her husband's one lucky sonofabitch, if I may say so," he places a gentlemanly kiss on the bride's hand and she in turn blushes. "Who's your friend?" she asks.

"A coworker," you say mysteriously, glancing at Jack, who has now turned his whole attention to you.

"You wanna dance, darlin'?" he asks, extending his hand to you.

Your stomach drops, just because you're pretty shy about dancing, and if anything you'd like to leave him with the impression that you can at least move in rhythm. "Maybe the next song," you suggest. "But first, how about a couple of shots? On me."

He smiles and shakes his head. "Darlin', I can't allow that. My treat," he insists, and orders a couple shots of whiskey for you and him.

"Had to be whiskey, huh?" you tease him, taking the shot glass in your hand.

"Of course." He lifts his glass to yours for a toast. "To coworkers getting to know each other better," he says, and there's a twinkle in his deep brown eyes that's hard to miss.

"To getting to know each other better," you grin and down the shot. It's like fire in your throat and stomach.

"Too much for ya to handle?" he teases, having downed his with ease.

"Depends.. which Whiskey are you talking about?" you tease back, feeling a little surge of confidence that either comes from Jack or from the shot.

"You're a little firecracker," he says in a low voice, his eyes blatantly going over every line and curve of your face, and downwards to eyeball your neck, the curve of your breasts. You wonder what he's imagining.

"Firecrackers are fun but dangerous," you warn him with a cheeky smile.

"We both know I'm all about that danger. Ain't nothin' I can't handle.." a subtle lift of his brows suggests he means more than mere flirtation.

"Is that a challenge?" You step closer to him, and the scent of his cologne, notes of leather and tobacco, catches your attention.

He notices your stance, the way you've shifted from a sweetheart wallflower to a provocative temptress. "What if it is?" he whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your skin and raising goosebumps on your flesh.

You follow his lead and whisper into his own ear, your lips grazing his cheek. "Then I accept.." you keep the ghost of a kiss upon his freshly shaven cheek and slowly pull back, looking into his eyes and seeing a newly effected desire there. "Dance with me." You bring him out to the floor, having completely lost sight of the bridesmaids. Nothing exists now but you and Jack and this chemistry that's been building between you.

His hands are on your hips as "Neon Moon" starts to play, a slow and soulful song that suits the mood you're both in. The colored lights sweep across the room, casting blue and scarlet and amber glows across the crowd. You're lost in each other, in the touch of his hands on your hips, the way he caresses them, loving their shape. You rest your hands on his broad, strong shoulders.

"You're a good dancer, Jack. You know what they say about men who are good dancers," you tell him suggestively.

"Really? What do they think, Gorgeous?" He pulls you even closer so your bodies are practically flush together.

"That they're good in bed," you answer with an arch of your brow, as if to imply it was beyond your belief.

He looks at you like a man looking at his first meal in a week of starvation. "Do you want to find out just how good of a.. dancer I am?"

Heat blooms across your body, and your pussy clenches in response. It only takes a moment to imagine what it would be like, riding this cowboy. You see him and you realize you have him right where you want him. "There is something I've been dying to ride.." you gently tug his shirt to bring him closer, as if in a kiss..

For a moment he looks like he's going to melt from the heat coming off you. "Oh yeah, darlin'? And what exactly is that?" he smirks.

Your face lights up. "That mechanical bull!" You grab Jack's hand and lead him across the huge barroom to the line to ride the bull. Sneaking a look at his face, Whiskey looks bewildered, but manages to cover it just in time. "That stupid thing? I can think of something more fun to ride," he smirks again and you resist the urge to drag him outside and let him have his way with you in the alleyway.

You only smirk back at him as the operator calls you to come forward and get atop the bull. Getting on top is easy, but staying on will be hard. As soon as you're situated, the bull starts spinning and bucking, slowly at first to let you get your bearings. You laugh and hold on, your body moving with the bull, anticipating its every move. Your hips grind down to the leather, thighs locked tight as you move your pelvis forward. Catching Whiskey's eye you blow him a kiss.

Seeing that the ride is winding down, he goes up to the operator and pays him to let you go again. This time, apparently on Whiskey's orders, the ride goes slower, allowing you to continue your little show for Jack. Keeping eye contact with him, you imagine it's him beneath you. Suddenly you gasp as you realize the bull is moving faster, and you watch as Jack's expression turns dark, lustful. You bite your lip as the speed increases. Pleasure pools in your belly, more specifically between your thighs, and the first stirrings of pleasure begin to radiate outward to your limbs, You rear your head back, face pointed up in ecstasy, and a rolling thunder starts in your veins.

You don't realize it until it's happening but you're being led away by Whiskey to a small corridor where no one can see you, and buries his face in your neck. "Tell me to stop if that's what you want," he says, his voice strained. "But by all that's holy, you are the hottest god damn thing I've ever seen."

But by then your leg is already hooked around his hip, shamelessly rubbing against him, the pleasure from the bull ride still fresh in your body. "I don't want you to stop," you whisper.

He growls low in his throat, which you dare to kiss, grazing your teeth across his skin. He gives a sharp hiss, and when he presses against you you feel proof of his desire, as if you needed any more. His hand goes beneath the hem of your dress and slides up, finding the edge of your lace panties. "Black?" he murmurs, his lips still against your neck.

"How did you know?"

You feel the curve of his smile against your skin. "I always know." His fingers trace your inner thighs before dipping into your heated, slick cunt. "Christ woman, you're soaking wet. For me." With his fingers inside you he kisses you, and you tip your face up to lean into his kiss, He slowly pumps two thick fingers inside as he slips his tongue into your mouth, mimicking the movements, earning a deep moan then a whimper from you.

"Watching you ride that bull, I just know it was me you were thinkin' of," he whispers huskily against your ear. "God damn if you aren't the most gorgeous thing I ever laid eyes on,, been wantin' you a long time, darlin'."

Through the haze of desire you smile, finding the temerity to feel touched by his words. "Took you long enough to show it," you tease, cupping the back of his head as you kiss, leaning against the wall as he fingers your wetness.

He groans again. "As much as I want to continue, I'd like to find a more comfortable place to fuck you." He pauses to look to you for consent. "That is, if you still want this."

You reply by palming his rigid cock, already threatening to poke through his tailored trousers. "I absolutely do.."

In a flurry of movement he brings you outside. The bachelorette party is the last thing on your mind, if you even still remember it, All you can think of is being with Jack. He leads you to his truck, the spacious backseat warm and inviting. He's on you again as that door is closed, His mouth finds yours, tongue claiming you. "I want to be gentle, but I don't think I have it in me right now," he admits.

You shake your head. "I'm not asking for gentle, I'm asking you to fuck me, Jack."

You've never called him by his name before, never been so informal with him, but the look in his eyes tells you it's perfectly all right by him. He lays you down on the seat. "Can I get a little taste of ya, darlin'? Been wonderin' what you'd taste like since the day we met."

This draws a sweet whimper from you, to hear he'd always wanted you. "God yes, please.."

He gingerly removes your panties, kissing his way back up your calves and thighs once they're off. You blush when he breathes in your scent. His hands cup the backs of your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders and you can't help but feel exposed. "Christ.. woman, you're gonna be the death of me," he mutters before taking off his hat and leaning in to devour you.

You give a sharp gasp as you lean your head back against the seat, hands mussing his hair as he laps at your wet cunt, licking up your folds and dipping his tongue inside you. He gently laps at your clit, using more pressure with each lick until he cups his lips around it and sucks, listening to how much you like it, how much more you need.

"Fuck!" you shout, a victorious roar as you feel yourself so close to that edge, and Whiskey is happy to let you use him for your pleasure. His tongue draws shapes upon your clit, alternating between swiping with his tongue and suckling it. Only when you come and he sweeps across every fold to drink up your juices does he stop.

You practically push him down, effectively trading places with him as you kneel before him. "My turn.."

His gaze turns dark even as his face lights up. "Hell, I'm not sayin' no to that, darlin'."

Smiling, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his briefs. His cock springs out, thick and long, perfectly curved, smooth, perfect. "God, I just knew you'd have a big dick.." you whisper, tracing with your tongue from root to head.

Whiskey exhales, watching you work on him. He palms the back of your head but doesn't urge you any further than what's comfortable for you. You use your hand to stroke his base while getting the first few inches of him into your mouth, daring to deep-throat him, wanting to see that look on his face, wanting to see him go crazy for you.

"Jesus, darlin'. I'm so on edge right now I might just burst if you keep doin' that," he chuckles. "Get on up here and ride me, gorgeous."

You feel your heart pound in every extremity of your body, especially your cunt, as you get up and straddle him, hiking up your dress. He stops you a moment and caresses your cheek. "This okay with you, darlin'? I have protection if you prefer.."

You smile and shake your head. "I'm on birth control, and I'm clean."

He smiles back. "Ah good. I'm clean too, darlin'." You know it has to be true, as the agents do periodic physicals and are prohibited from missions for the slightest findings.

Kissing him, you rise over him, using your hands to find him and bring him into you. He slides in without any resistance, and you take your time trying to get as much of him inside as you can. "Fuck, Jack," you whisper as he fills you.

Through the pleasure of connecting your bodies he smirks. "Is that an order?"

You giggle a little. "Looks like I'm the one doing the fucking." Just as you say that, he pushes up from under you, moving you up, filling you up just a little bit more. "God!!"

Sinking his teeth in to his lower lip he grabs onto your hips and moves you how he wants, watching your body for clues on what you like and what you want more of. He pulls the front of your dress down and frees your breasts, suckling on each nipple at a time as you melt on top of him, inadvertently letting more of him inside. He's fucking you and you're fucking him.

You grab his hat from the seat next to you and put it on yourself, riding your cowboy. Whiskey watches you, whispering your name, calling you his Cowgirl, bucking his hips up into you until he bottoms out, then lifting you with long strokes until you push him down to grind down. His thumb flicks over your clit, swirling the letters of your name and his, hearing your wild moans and shuddering sighs. You've never come so hard or so fast. You feel the first fluttery feelings deep within, and they shoot through your veins, lighting up your entire nervous system, and you scream his name as your cunt clenches spasmodically around his cock, and soon you feel him spill his cum deep inside you, spurting its warmth to your insides.

It takes a moment for you to come back to earth, and when you do, Whiskey is kissing you, tenderly, with the remainder of the passion you two just shared. "That was.. wow," you sigh, feeling shy around him now, of all times.

"It was spectacular, darlin'. I hope you know I'm gonna want you again," he puts his forehead to yours.

"Is that so?" You blush with elation.

"Of course darlin'. I'm hopin' to make this a long-term association, if you're so willin'. But on one condition."

You raise a brow. "Already calling the shots, huh? What's the condition?"

"That the only thing you ride is me. Ain't no way I'm being upstaged by a damn mechanical bull ever again."

You laugh, and he loves the sound of it. "We'll put a pin in that conversation."

He strokes your hair. The electric light from the bar sign lights up the inside of the truck, magenta and cyan. "You comin' home with me tonight, Cowgirl?"

You smile and give him a soft kiss. "You bet, Cowboy."

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

#agent jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #friends to lovers #coworkers to lovers #kingsman golden circle #ao3 fanfic #smut fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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beartitled · 16 days ago

Note

Did you play the pristine cut of STP? What do you think of Dragon, Cage and HappilyEverAfter if so?

Spoilers for STP pristine cut under read more (+ a lot of text warning)

Hehe I see STP ppl are excited and want more silly comics

Well there’s a lot of things to say tbh 👀

Overall really enjoyed new content so far

It kinda feels like a fanservice for the people who already played the game

Which is not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong ☝️

I just view the original game as a perfect instalment, which doesn’t really need a continuation

New scenarios is just a pleasant bonus

(I’m one shot/short story fan okay 👉👈)

I already saw Dragon and Happily After routes

Yet to see all the variations the Cage route has to offer (heard ppl said it’s the most diverse one)

The Princess and The Dragon

HEY REMEMBER HOW I SAID I DON’T LIKE THE IDEA OF CHANGING THE GENDERS OF THE CHARACTERS BC THAT WAY THE DYNAMIC WOULD BE UNSETTLING?

YEA SO THIS ROUTE EXPLORED THAT DYNAMIC GUYS

I enjoyed this route, bc again

It’s scary, uncomfortable, makes you feel unsafe and uneasy 👁️👁️

Awesome depiction of how scary this type of situation would be

And of course bonus points, we got to see the bird bois 🎉

(Opportunist go brush yo teeth, u spooky lookin ass)

Happily ever after

Noooow we’re talking

I love that route, it’s my favourite so far

The pain, the suffering, the absolutely devastated British crowman

Brilliant, chills

This one actually feels like a missing part of the og game to me

I wanted to go into details about my opinions on that route in the future post

But now I want to talk 😈

👏Smitten👏my boy👏how are you in your edgy villain era already omg

Can we just admit for a second how badass Smitten is for escaping protagonist’s body?

Like-💥

This was the first route I saw and was like “Ooooh that’s probably the new gimmick, every voice is doing to escape and shenanigans happen” AND NO Smitten is just that guy™️ absolute chad

Minus points for “we will give her something she doesn’t know she wants yet”

*hits Smitten with newspaper*

Bad voice 💥🗞️bad 💥🗞️ we listen to what 💥🗞️our queen 💥🗞️wants 🗞️💥🗞️💥💥

But it works okay

The atmosphere is immaculate, I was legit concerned for a moment

Ok now give me a moment to be a nerd ☝️🤓

I love how this route gives Smitten flaws

I think finally we saw that every voice has them, because voices are an isolated part of a person, a pure feeling if you will

And Smitten represents that naïve love idealisation/love obsession

The guy loves the princess, she is pure perfection to him

This feeling is blinding and honestly pretty toxic irl

During the whole og game Smitten was never conflicting?

He pretty much the comedic relief of the whole game (and least it felt like that to me)

I think he was kinda a missed potential

Yes, love is sweet

Crushes are can be funny, silly and overall just positive

But it can be so destructive, so painful and so so exhausting when it gets to the point of obsession

And that route gives you a direct illustration of it

Which is amazing

I honestly think we don’t have enough media just showcasing this feeling of obsessive love and how dangerous it is

(yandere trope doesn’t count 👿 this trope just kinda glorified the issue)

And the tragedy is SMITTEN IS TOO DELUSIONAL TO EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HE’S DOING WRONG

My poor poor birb boy

He’s too focused on doing everything perfectly, to make princess satisfied, to make us satisfied, why isn’t it working? He does everything he can, why doesn’t it work? How doesn’t it work?

HE’S TOO LOVESTRUCK TO TAKE A STEP BACK AND REFLECT

AAAAAAAAA

God I’m insane about Happily ever after

As a person who struggles with this exact feeling of idolising and obsessing over ppl, I just really feel that route

Goth Smitten incoming *coughs*

Thanks for your question ❤️ hope you enjoyed reading my mess of thoughts💥

Share your thoughts in comments/reblogs if you want ppl

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charbroiledchicken · 19 hours ago

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arcane season 2 introduction analysis incoming:

does anyone else find it really cool, but also very nerve-wracking, that the season 2 arcane introduction is referencing a bunch of well known tragic plays/musicals? we all know riot/fortiche isn’t one to put unnecessary details in, every single thing is either symbolic, a parallel or foreshadowing - especially in the introductions. so, could these chosen plays/performances foreshadow how the rest of the story could go?

i know that the caitlyn/macbeth poster parallels have been circulating a lot recently, and i think it provides a really good idea into how caitlyn’s arc might go.

the events of act one positioned caitlyn in a perfect place to follow the storyline of macbeth. her current state (losing her mother, the trauma from jinx, etc) has made her predisposed to violence, much like macbeth. we can clearly see that in the caitvi betrayal scene, when she hits vi in the gut with a rifle, as well as in the fight before that, where she has no qualms with potentially killing innocents for the ‘greater good’. she was also thrust into a position of high power where she will be easily manipulated by ambessa.

similar to this, macbeth is a story of a man thrust into a high position of power and unable to keep the blood off his hands, and he and his wife eventually go mad because of it. I think ambessa fits the role of lady macbeth here, and she has the potential to goad caitlyn (macbeth) into violent acts and atrocities while keeping the blood and blame off her hands. through caitlyn, ambessa now has significant influence and power over piltover and the fight with zaun. how will caitlyn, who is barely more than a pawn now, cope with this? macbeth slowly went insane in his attempt to maintain power - i fear for how caitlyn will fare.

macbeth is a tragedy, by the way.

i haven’t properly analysed the rest, but i think it’s interesting to know that the shot of jinx holding the flag is a reference to les mis (also a tragedy, as SPOILER ALERT all the characters die in their fight for freedom and fairness). the line is literally 'oh the misery'. if jinx rallies zaun to fight against piltover, is she leading them into a massacre?

les mis is a tragedy.

the shots of mel and ambessa lounging on the couch is a reference to julius caesar. it is a play of betrayal and caesar is betrayed by one of their companions. et tu, brute? brutus joins a conspiracy to assassinate caesar and prevent him from becoming a tyrant. does ambessa become a tyrant/bloodthirsty leader with her newfound power? will mel join the black rose and betray her mother in order to stop piltover’s destruction?

julius caesar is a tragedy.

one last thing. in all of these works, the main character of the story dies by the end.

so, safe to say, i am very nervous about what the introduction is foreshadowing. i have a feeling an important character is going to die.

arcane will be a tragedy.

(viktor and the mask is also a reference to phantom of the opera but, as much as i love that musical, i haven’t analysed his shots yet so i haven’t included it)

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onlinesuzie · 3 months ago

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HAMZAH REQUEST: argument fic w fluff make out after love me some angst ty!

♡ confronting hamzah about his time away from you ♡

words: 1.8k

summary: Hamzah was passionate about his work, spending countless hours filming and editing to ensure every detail was perfect. But as his dedication to his videos grew, so did the distance between you and him.

notes: i usually hate writing angst but this submission made me want to try it so i hope you like it!! also i am a sucker for hamzah asking for a little kiss so i just had to add that!!

☆

Hamzah’s deep brown eyes always sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about his latest project. With his brown curly hair framing his face, often tousled from running his hands through it during long editing sessions. His tan skin, a warm golden hue, glowed under the harsh blue light, though dark circles had begun to appear under his eyes from many sleepless nights.

You were very proud of Hamzah’s success. You loved seeing the joy his videos brought to his audience, but the late nights and missed dinners were taking their toll. What once felt like a shared journey now seemed like a lonely path. Tonight, as you set the table for a special dinner, the clock ticked away the minutes of your patience.

Hamzah was late again.

The dinner grew cold as you sat in silence, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the empty chair across from you. You had planned a special evening, hoping to reconnect after weeks of feeling alone. But as the hours passed, your frustration turned to anger.

Finally, the front door creaked open. Hamzah entered, his face alight with excitement, clutching his camera.

“You won’t believe how funny Martin was today! It’s going to be our best video yet,” he said, oblivious to your simmering anger.

“Hamzah, do you even know what time it is?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

He opened up his phone, checking the time and noticing the several missed calls, his smile fading. “Oh… I lost track of time. I’m sorry, my love. But you should see this clip—”

“I don’t care about the clip!” you interrupted, standing up from the table. “You’re always late, always busy with your videos. Do you even care about us anymore?”

Hamzah’s face fell, his excitement replaced by confusion and defensiveness. “Of course I care about us. This is for us, for our future. Can’t you see how important this is?”

“Important? Hamzah, you’re never here! I feel like I’m living alone. We never talk, we never spend time together. I’m tired of feeling left out.”

“I thought you’d be proud of me,” Hamzah shot back, his voice rising. “I’m building something here. Something that makes us a stable income. Can’t you see that?”

“I am proud of you! But what’s the point of all this if me and you are falling apart?” Your voice broke, the frustration spilling out. “I just want to spend time with you, Hamzah. Is that too much to ask?”

“You think I don’t want that too?” he retorted. “I’m doing this for us, so we can have a better future. But it’s like you don’t even appreciate how hard I’m working.”

“Appreciate? I appreciate you, Hamzah. But I need you here, with me, not lost in your work all the time. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?”

“We are a team,” he insisted. “But you need to understand, this isn’t just a hobby. This is my career. Our career. You should be supporting me.”

“I do support you,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “But I can’t support something that’s tearing us apart.”

The argument escalated, emotions running high. Words flew back and forth, each one more hurtful than the last. You voiced every grievance, every moment of loneliness you had felt. Hamzah tried to defend himself, explaining the pressures of maintaining his online presence, but his words only fueled your anger.

“You don’t get it,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t care about your subscribers or your videos. I care about you. I miss you.”

The room fell silent, your words hanging in the air. Hamzah stood there, the weight of your feelings finally sinking in. He stepped closer, his voice softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I thought I was doing this for us, but I see now that I’ve been pushing you away.”

You looked up at him, your anger fading as you saw the regret in his eyes. “I just want us to be okay, Hamzah. I want to feel like we’re a team again.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his. “We are a team. And I promise I’ll do better. I’ll find a way to balance my work and our relationship. You’re more important to me than any video.”

The sincerity in his voice melted the remaining tension. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, and he held you tight. As you looked into his eyes, you saw the love that had always been there, just buried under the stress and excitement of his career.

“I love you,” you whispered, and he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

Hamzah was breathtakingly beautiful, and you had missed him this way. His eyes were locked onto yours, conveying a depth of emotion words could never capture. You had always admired his determination and drive, but in this moment, all you wanted was him, here with you, present and loving.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you murmured against his lips, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you, Hamzah.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Later into the night, it was quiet, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You and Hamzah lay on the couch, entwined, the warmth of his body a comfort you hadn't realized you needed so badly. Yet, even in this moment of closeness, a sense of unease lingered. You knew the fight wasn't over, that deeper issues lay beneath the surface, waiting to be addressed.

As you traced your fingers along the curve of Hamzah’s jaw, you could see the exhaustion etched into his features. The dark circles under his eyes told the story of countless late nights spent editing videos, chasing a dream that seemed to be pulling him further away from you.

“Hamzah,” you began softly, not wanting to shatter the fragile peace that had settled between you, “I’m scared.”

He looked at you, his brown eyes concerned. “Scared of what?”

“I’m scared that we’re losing each other,” you confessed. “That your career is becoming more important than us. I know you love what you do, and I love seeing you happy, but I need to know that we still matter to you.”

Hamzah sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. “You do matter. More than anything. But I feel like I’m caught between two worlds. I want to give you everything, but I also love my job and don’t want to lose the opportunity I’ve ended up with.”

“I understand that,” you said, your voice trembling. “But I don’t want to be the one always left behind. We need to find a balance, Hamzah. I need to feel like I’m a part of your world, not just an afterthought.”

He pulled you closer, his embrace strong yet tender. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve been so focused on my work that I forgot the most important part of my life – you. I promise I’ll do better.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I miss us, Hamzah. I miss the way things used to be.”

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Then let’s make a change. Let’s set some boundaries. No more late nights unless it’s absolutely necessary. And I’ll make sure we have our time together, no matter what.”

You nodded, a glimmer of hope igniting within you. “Okay. But we have to stick to it, Hamzah. We can’t keep going like this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice firm with determination. “I want this to work. I want us to work.”

As you shared this intimate moment, the tension that had filled the room began to dissipate, replaced by a deep longing for each other. Your heart raced as you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Hamzah’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of regret and desire.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and filled with vulnerability.

You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he closed the distance. His lips closed the distance between you.

Hamzah’s hands held to your waist, pulling you closer as he traced your lips with his tongue. You responded eagerly, opening your mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding your fingers into his soft curls. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your heart beat faster. It felt as though the world around you had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble of passion.

You could taste the salt of his skin and the sweetness of his breath as you kissed him deeply, exploring the familiar contours of his mouth. Every touch, every sigh, seemed to bring you closer, healing the wounds that had formed between you during the argument.

Hamzah’s hands traveled down your back, pulling you even tighter against him as if he never wanted to let go. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and every brush of his fingers gave you goosebumps. The kiss grew more intense, filled with all the pent-up emotions of longing, frustration, and love.

“God, I’ve missed this,” you breathed, pulling away just enough to catch your breath, your hands resting on his chest.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I never want to lose you.”

As you resumed kissing, it was as if you were both reaffirming your commitment to each other. The softness of his lips against yours felt like a promise, a vow that no matter how busy life got, you would always find your way back to one another. You kissed with intensity, pouring all your love and desperation into each moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you got lost in each other. Every moment spent in his arms felt like a step towards reclaiming what you both had nearly lost. The passion of the kiss made you realize just how important your connection was, how deep your love ran.

Eventually, you pulled back slightly, both of you breathless, the realization of how much you needed each other settling in.

“Let’s not wait until we’re fighting to remember this,” you said softly, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

“Agreed,” Hamzah replied, his expression serious yet tender. “I promise to always make time for us, no matter what.”

As you nestled into his embrace once more, the world outside seemed to fade away. The promise of a new beginning hung in the air, and with every heartbeat, you felt a renewed sense of hope. You knew that no matter the challenges ahead, you and Hamzah would face them together—united, passionate, and very much in love.

With hearts intertwined, you both finally surrendered to the exhaustion of the day, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms, ready to embrace the future hand in hand.

#hamzahthefantastic #thatmartinkid #slushy noobz #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n

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matchalovertrait · 18 days ago

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Alegría VS Caruso: Day 1, Part 2

Previous | Next

“Your Honor, to establish the impact of Mr. Caruso’s statements, we’d like to introduce Exhibit A. Here are the analytics from Ms. Alegría’s social media accounts,” Antonio said firmly with a hint of a suave note in his voice.

The screen behind him turns on, revealing a series of graphs and dates.

“As you can see, her channel experienced a 40% decline in viewership AND a notable decrease in new subscribers,” he told the jurors.

He turned to face the screen and the judge. “Exhibit B demonstrates a reduction in cookbook sales during the same period.”

“Additionally, Exhibit C shows her lost sponsorships, reducing her income by nearly half.”

Antonio took his time to go over each piece of evidence in thorough detail. He ensured he made eye contact with each person in the room as he was pacing around.

“Ever since my client was a child, she worked tirelessly to build her brand. She created her social media accounts nearly a decade ago, and there is no record of a decline before Mr. Caruso’s video. He has one purpose in mind: To sabotage her career. He succeeded as of now,” he continued.

“He is tarnishing her reputation in an industry that takes many years to build trust and credibility. Ms. Alegría’s brand is built on her authenticity. Of course her fans felt betrayed at the thought of her being a fraud.”

"This brings us to Exhibit D—Digital records of Ms. Alegría's cookbook project with timestamps included."

Dulce was brought to the stand by Isabela. I’m ready for whatever she has to throw at me.

Isabela tried to stare her down but Dulce did not blink once.

“The data does indeed prove a decline, but let’s not ignore the facts behind the numbers. I shall reiterate that Ms. Alegría’s downfall was her own doing.”

“Ms. Alegría, shortly before Mr. Caruso released his video, he proposed to you and you rejected him. Is that correct?”

“Yes, I rejected the marriage proposal,” Dulce nodded.

“And isn’t it true that you allowed Mr. Caruso to believe there was a future between you two, rejecting his proposal only after accepting his support for your career?”

Antonio stood up abruptly. “Objection, Your Honor! Ms. Campos is badgering and assuming intent without basis.”

The judge took a moment to ponder.

“Overruled. Ms. Alegría, please answer the question.”

“I never promised marriage. A year before he proposed, he brought up the topic of marriage. I made it clear I did not want to be married anytime soon. However, I did care about him as a friend and a business partner. I didn’t lead him on.”

“Ms. Alegría, could it be that viewers and sponsors simply saw through your rash behavior, and that is why they withdrew themselves from you? You were acting rather unpredictable by suddenly rejecting him.”

“Objection, Your Honor!" Antonio shot up again. He could not let her win again. "That accusation is speculative and irrelevant to the defamation claim.”

“Sustained. Ms. Campos, keep the questioning focused on the case specifics.”

Isabela cleared her throat, “Very well, Your Honor. Ms. Alegría, if it wasn’t your personal choices or behavior, then explain why the viewers and sponsors were quick to withdraw.”

She wants to suggest that I’ve been unlikable, erratic, and untalented from the very beginning of my career. She wants me to believe that myself and make me insecure. She wants to get into my head.

I need to stand my ground.

“Because of the lies that Mr. Caruso spread about me in his video.”

Simple as that.

Antonio is right. They don't have anything.

Previous | Next

#dulce alegria #oc mlt: antonio romero #oc mlt: caruso #oc mlt: isabela campos #tjolc gen 2 #alegria legacy #matchalovertrait #tjol challenge #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #tjolc #sims 4 legacy #sims

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helloimanavenger · 3 months ago

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The Elven Mistake

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating: all ages

Warnings: canon level violence, our favorite elf boy experiences some slight angst with a happy ending

Category: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining

A/N: This one shot is loosely based off 'The French Mistake' which is a fan favorite episode of the CW show Supernatural. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

"Legolas, get down!" you heard Aragon shout from across the battlefield, but it was too late. You watched helplessly as the ball of pure magic sailed from Saruman's staff, hitting the elf directly in the chest.

"No!" you shouted as Legolas crumpled to the ground. After fighting off the four Orcs that had you surrounded, you made your way over the archer.

"Y/N, get him out of here," Gandalf commanded you, also caught up in his own fight.

You quickly called one of the horses over. You positioned Legolas on it before hopping on yourself as Gandalf covered you from an incoming attack.

---

Back at the inn the fellowship was taking refuge at for the night, you refused to leave the bedside of a still unconscious Legolas.

When the door to the room opened, you rose to your feet as Gimli, Gandalf, Aragorn, Merry, and Pippin entered.

"Y/N," Aragorn greeted you, "How is he doing?"

"No change," you said solemnly before turning your attention to the wizard in your company, "What can we do?"

Without answering you, Gandalf made his way over to the elf, waving his hand over his dead-like form.

"This is strong magic," Gandalf began, "A reality spell."

"A reality spell?" you questioned.

Gandalf turned to you, "He is trapped within his mind," he explained.

"Well how do we set him free?" Aragorn asked.

"There is one way," Gandalf began, "But it is quite dangerous."

You looked to the wizard expectantly and he continued, "If I cast a similar spell, I can send one of you in to his dream. In doing so you may be able to pull him out of the trance."

"I will go," you volunteered immediately.

Gandalf shook his head, "You are a healer, Y/N, I will need you here with me in case something is to go wrong."

"Let it be me," Aragorn spoke up before turning to you, "I will bring him home. I swear it."

"You must convince him what he is seeing is not real, but be warned, ranger, the longer he stays in his mind the more he will forget this reality. If this happens - if you are to fail - you shall both be trapped in whatever world his mind has created, never to awaken in this one," Gandalf stated.

Aragorn nodded, "I will bring him home," he repeated.

---

Legolas was awoken suddenly, his eyes shooting open as he drew in a sharp breath. He immediately looked around and noticed his surroundings were unfamiliar to say the least. He sat on some sort of throne he had never seen before with a kind of book in his hands. Flipping through the book quickly, he noticed it detailed his adventures with the fellowship, but there was something about it. It was like a script from the play his mother had taken him to as a child...and his name was on it. He was being told what to say and do.

Looking around further, the Elven prince noticed many men and women surrounding him, each preoccupied with their own task.

Instinctively, Legolas reached for his bow, but found that it was not in its place on his back.

Worry flashed across his face. Where was he? Where was his weapon? His friends? You?

"Cut on Frodo and Sam!" Legolas heard a man call out, drawing his attention to the noise.

Frodo and Sam were here? He had thought they were off destroying the ring.

A million questions swirled throughout Legolas' mind, but he was broken out of his trance by an all too familiar sound: the sound of your voice.

"Orlando!"

"Y/N?" he questioned as he laid his eyes upon the woman approaching him. Something was off about you. For one, you called him by this strange name. Not to mention, you wore strange clothes, unlike the battle armor he had become used to seeing you in.

You had a carefree smile upon your face and your laugh was bubbly as you pulled him into a tight hug.

Although he was confused, he quickly sunk into your embrace, wrapping his own arms around you.

When you pulled away, your smile never faltering, you spoke again, "Come on. We've got a scene to do!"

Legolas cautiously followed you through the crowds of people until you stopped at a stage that resembled a battlefield much like the one he had just seen before he lost consciousness.

"Orlando," another woman addressed him by the name you had called him, "Here you go," she said when he turned to face her. In her outstretched hands, his bow as well as beautiful dagger.

Legolas took them gratefully as you stripped of your outer layer, revealing your battle armor underneath.

"Ready?" he heard a man ask. Ready for what?

You nodded and the man called again, "Action!"

You immediately drew your sword, turning your back to Legolas.

"They're here," you spoke in a hushed tone, "Do your elf ears hear them as mine do?"

Legolas strained his ears, but he could not hear what you were talking about. That was strange for him, his elf ears never failed him.

Suddenly, an arrow passed by your head, just barley missing it, and Legolas jumped into action. He stood with his back to yours, bow drawn, intending to help shield you from any attack that came your way.

It was then that a legion of Orcs appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Both you and your fellow elf were quick to jump into action, ducking and jumping, firing arrows and using swords, to take down the Orcs.

When you were satisfied that all the Orcs had fallen, you turned to face Legolas once more, sighing in relief.

That relief was short lived, however, as one last Orc appeared behind you.

Without wasting a second, Legolas drew his bow, ready to fire at the Orc who now had you in its grasp, a knife to your throat.

"Let her go," Legolas commanded the Orc.

"And, cut!" someone yelled again.

Upon hearing this, the Orc released you, even flashing you a smile before walking off.

Confused, Legolas kept his bow ready to fire.

"Orlando, you know you can put that down now, right, honey?" you laughed.

Not convinced, Legolas continued pointing his bow in every direction as the Orcs who had been slain, slowly rose from the ground and wandered off.

Laughing again, you spoke, "Really getting into the role today, aren't we?"

At your carefree attitude Legolas slowly and cautiously lowered his bow. You smiled, planting a quick sweet kiss on his lips, "I'm going to go find Elijah. I'll catch up with you later, love."

With that, you practically skipped off the stage, a huge smile on your face as you called out to your friend Elijah.

Legolas stood in place, dumbfounded and blushing like a young boy. Had you just kissed him? So casually as if you had a hundred times before.

As he continued to stand up on the stage, he made eye contact with his old friend Aragon, who was standing off to the side with a silent plea in his eyes to come join him.

As Legolas made his way over to the ranger, a woman stopped him, "Orlando, I'm going to secure your wig a bit better," she explained, reaching up towards his hair.

"Do not touch my hair," he sneered.

The woman half laughed before he grabbed her wrist, "It is bad form to touch an elf's hair without their permission."

The woman looked shocked, but nodded, walking away and muttering something about how there was time before his next scene anyways.

"Legolas," Aragorn's familiar voice spoke behind him.

Turning to face him, Legolas spoke, "My friend! Something strange is happening here. You are the only one who seems to be normal."

Aragorn nodded, "That is because I am me," he spoke.

"Then who are they?" Legolas asked, turning until he found you speaking to someone who looked like Frodo, unaware of the elf's eyes on you.

"A spell has been placed on you. You are trapped in your own mind as if it were an alternate world," Aragon explained, "None of this is real. You must return home with me."

"Return?" Legolas asked, "How?"

"You must accept that this reality is false. Will yourself to awaken," said Aragon.

Noticing Legolas' eyes on you, Aragon spoke again, "She does not know who you truly are. None of our lives is real to her. No middle earth, no ring, no war."

"Is that to make me want to return? Return to a world where we are in constant danger? Why would I wish to not stay in a place where she loves me?"

"She is not real. That is why. Even if she was, it is not you who she loves, it is another version of you," Aragorn tried to reason.

Legolas nodded, "I respect you in every sense of the word, my friend, but I can not simply will myself to return to a world where i could lose her at any moment. Not when here we can be together for a lifetime."

It was no secret the deep feelings Legolas had for you, nor the ones you had for him. No secret to anyone in the fellowship, except to the two of you.

You first met Legolas through Aragorn. Being Arwen's younger sister, the four of you had spent much time together, but you and Legolas were always friends, nothing more.

Aragorn sighed, he had promised himself long ago that he would not interfere with the natural course of your relationship with the elf, but he decided, in this moment, it was time to do just that in order to save them both from this reality.

"Who is to say the real Y/N does not have deep feelings for you? Who is to say, if you go back, you can not share that lifetime and more with the true version of her?" he asked.

This drew Legolas' attention away from you and onto the ranger, "Who is to say she does?"

Aragorn was about to respond to his friend when (not) you motioned the two over to where you stood.

After looking to each other, they made their way over to you.

---

As you sat by the bedsides of your oldest friend and the man you had grown to love, you said a silent prayer to any entity that might be listening for them to be okay. They had to come home...they had to come home to you.

---

"Hey, boys!" you called Legolas and Aragorn as they approached you.

"Y/N, hello," Aragorn smiled, but Legolas was focused on something else. It had caught the light and reflected on his face, immediately drawing his attention: an engagement ring.

Noticing where Legolas was looking, you raised you hand to show off the ring.

"You did well, my love," you smiled at Legolas, "Didn't he, Viggo?"

Aragon smiled, assuming he was the 'Viggo' you referred to, "You two are engaged." It was less of a question and more of a statement.

You nodded happily, "We were going to wait to tell everyone until filming was done, but I just couldn't wait. I'm so happy," you said, moving to stand next to Legolas and taking his hand in your own.

"Well, congratulations," Aragorn smiled. Truthfully, he had wanted this for you and Legolas for so long. He understood why the elf wanted to stay. This was a sort of dream world for him: no war and you by his side, but he had to stay on mission. He had to convince his friend to leave.

---

"Gandalf!" you called to the wizard. He rushed into the room to find you crouched at the elf's bedside, a cool rag on his forehead.

"He - he was shaking. I could not get him to stop, but when he did...Gandalf he is so warm, it must be a fever and it will not break," you stated shakily, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"He's forgetting, falling too deep into whatever illusion he is in," Gandalf concluded, "How is Aragorn?"

You shook your head, "Whatever is happening is only effecting Legolas."

"Well it will not be long until it effects them both. We must hope they hurry," said Gandalf, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

---

"These movies have changed my life in more ways than one," you smiled to the reporter, taking Legolas' hand in yours, "I'm beyond excited for the fans to see Return of the King. Which is, of course, what we are currently filming."

"What has it been like being one of the only woman filming with all these men?" the reporter asked, smiling brightly.

"Honestly, it's been so rewarding. I've learned so much about my skills as an actor, especially from Ian...and the boys never made me feel like I was on the outside. We truly are just one big family. Even though this is the last movie in our trilogy, I know that bond will never be broken. We deeply love each other and we've already promised to get together at least once a year."

"Some love each other more than others," the reported stated, looking between you and Orlando.

You laughed that same bubbly laugh, "Yes, the rumors are true," you stated, "Orlando and I met on the first day of filming and quickly fell in love and now," you looked to your fiancé, before holding up you ring for the camera behind the reporter, "I'm happy to announce we're getting married."

"Oh my goodness!" the reporter practically shrieked, "Congratulations you two! Does this mean we will be exploring more of Legolas and Y/N's relationship in Return of the King?"

You smiled brightly, "Thank you. Y/N and Legolas share a special bond already being the only two elves in the fellowship and, of course, I'm sure everyone has noticed the chemistry the two share, but as far as romantic feelings...well, you'll have to see Return of the King in theaters December 16th to find out more!"

The reporter thanked you and Orlando (Legolas) for your time and went off to find Elijah and Sean.

"You were awfully quiet during that interview," you turned to Legolas when the reporter was out of earshot.

"I simply love hearing you speak," Legolas responded, slightly truthfully.

You smiled, placing a kiss on his lips which he quickly melted into.

---

That night, Legolas was awoken to a loud crash outside the trailer the two of you shared. You were snuggled into his side and he longed to not leave your warmth, but he knew he had to investigate what he had heard.

Quickly and quietly as to not disturb your peaceful sleeping from, he got up from the bed and padded outside.

"Aragorn? What are you doing out here at this hour?" he asked upon seeing his friend rummaging through a drawer clearly labeled: PROPS.

Aragorn looked to the elf, shock written on the rangers features. His normally long platinum blonde hair was short and dark. Also, his pointy elf ears looked more rounded and human. Not to mention, he was clad not in battle armor, but in clothing much like what not you had been wearing in between scenes.

"Legolas, is that you?" he asked.

Legolas nodded, "It was a costume," he stated, "Merely a costume. Can you believe it?"

Aragorn shook his head, "This is not something to celebrate, my friend. I fear you are becoming a permanent part of this world. The longer you stay here the more you will change and forget what is real and what is not. If that happens, we will never be able to get home."

Legolas glanced back to the trailer he had left you in, "What if this is my home now?"

"You do not mean that, Legolas. What about Middle Earth? Do you not wish to save it?" Aragorn asked.

"Of course I do, but...I have lived my entire life trying to please others. Never once have I done anything for myself. What if..." Legolas trailed off before continuing, "I assume you are trying to find another way home. I will help you do this, but then...then you will leave me to be at peace."

---

Aragon understood where Legolas was coming from. The elf had seen so much death and destruction in his life. He saw this false reality as his second chance. A way to move beyond that and live a peaceful life with the one he loved. What if the war could not be won? What if this was Legolas' way of saving himself from further misery? Was it selfish? Maybe. However, the elf was correct. He had done everything in his life for someone else. Did he not deserve to be happy himself?

Of course he did, but what about you? The real you? The you who was still tending to the elf's sleeping form, unsure if you would ever see him again. The you who was wishing you had shared your true feelings before it was too late. Or what about the fellowship? The fellowship who needed his help to stop Sauron.

He wanted his friend to be happy. but he also knew something Legolas did not: that the you waiting for him back home loved him so. Aragorn knew that Legolas had a chance to be happy no matter which reality he stayed in. He also believed with all his heart that the fellowship would destroy the ring and win the war. He had to believe that.

So, Aragorn left a note in the pocket of a costume labeled with your name. He did not know if it would reach you, but he had to hope.

---

"They are not getting any better, Gimli," you told the dwarf as he had come to check on the three of you.

It was evident that you had hardly, if at all, slept a wink since they had been gone.

Legolas' fever continued to rise and Gandalf was right, it was not long before Aragorn experienced the same symptoms.

"They will, lassie," Gimli stated.

"Do you truly believe that?" you asked, tears streaming down your face.

"Aye, lassie. I must believe that," Gimli said solemnly before something caught his attention, "Y/N, what is this?"

Drying you tears you turned to see what the dwarf had in his hands: a note...written in Elvish.

"I have no idea where that came from," you said, confusion lacing your voice.

"Fell out of your pocket there. Go on then, what does it say?"

You scanned the note, "I need to get to them...now."

---

You woke up in a soft and rather warm bed. It was a welcome change from the inn you had been staying at. Immediately, however, you got up to go find your friends.

"Aragorn," you stated, finding him. It was still early in the morning and no one else was awake save for you, Aragorn, and Legolas.

"Y/N?" he questioned, upon hearing you say his true name.

"It is me," you smiled as he pulled you into an embrace, "It is so good to see you."

"You received my letter, then?" he asked.

"That I did. Now tell me, where is Legolas?"

---

After splitting up to go search for him, Aragorn found the archer sitting by a shallow river, deep in thought.

Aragorn cleared his throat as he approached, but before he could say a word, Legolas spoke.

"How selfish I have been," the elf sighed, "You were correct, my old friend, I must return to Middle Earth and help win this war. As much...as much as my heart longs to stay here."

"It is wonderful to hear you say that, Legolas," your voice startled the elf as you walked up to your two friends, "I, for one, would miss you greatly if you were to stay here."

"Y/N?" Legolas questioned.

You smiled, nodding your head.

Legolas was quick to close the distance between you two, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

"I am sorry," he apologized, "I wanted this life...I was foolish," he said.

Pulling away slightly, but still staying in his arms, you spoke, "it is not foolishness to wish for an end to all this. I, myself have wished it many a night."

"It was not real, however," Legolas conceded, "No matter how tormented it might be I choose reality. I choose our lives. I choose you, Y/N."

"Legolas," you sighed, moved by his words, "I choose you too. I - I love you."

Finally, after months of holding back your true feelings, Legolas kissed you. It felt warm and safe, comforting, even. As if all your worries melted away and in the world it was only you two. The kiss was slow and passionate as you two shared all your feelings without saying any words. When you finally had to pull away for air, Legolas spoke, "Sal aestar va." (I love you too.)

---

You woke up first, relieved to be in the dimly lit inn again. Aragorn woke next to find you at Legolas' bedside already. He placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you.

Finally, Legolas woke as well, looking up at you with pure love in his sparkling blue eyes. He wasted no time pulling you in for another kiss.

---

The battle was won, the ring destroyed, and you were free to live your lives once more.

You, personally, chose to live that life with Legolas.

Your wedding was grand, though you should not have expected less as you were marrying the Prince of Mirkwood.

"Slow down, salen lyth!" (my child) you yelled to your son as he ran through the halls of the castle you had made your home.

Heavily pregnant with your second child, it was difficult to keep up with the boy.

When you did catch up, his giggles echoed through the room. There was Legolas, holding his son and spinning around.

You smiled at the sight of your husband and child, so carefree and happy.

Upon seeing you enter the room, Legolas gently put your son down, making his way over to you and planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"How are you feeling, aestar?" (love) he asked, gently rubbing your belly.

"Like your daughter wants to come into the world any day now," you laughed lightly.

He smiled back at you, "Are you still up for dinner tonight?"

"Of course," you stated, "It will be lovely to see everyone after all this time."

"Get some rest," Legolas suggested, "I will prepare everything for their arrival."

You kissed Legolas sweetly, earning an 'ewww' from your son, and padded off to do just that.

---

When you woke up, you made your way into the great dining hall to find the smiling faces of Gandalf, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Legolas, Gimli, Aragon, Arwen, their son, and your son.

Your sister noticed your presence first, standing to wrap you in a tight embrace.

"Thank you for hosting us at your home, my lady," Gimli smiled, when you pulled away from Arwen.

You rolled your eyes, "We are far fast the formalities, Gimli. It is good to see you."

After sharing a few more 'hellos' and hugs with the rest of the group, you took your seat next to your husband.

Stories were shared and laughter was heard all night. You could not thank whoever was listening enough for the life you were given. You could not thank them enough for your family.

THE END

#lord of the rings #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #aragorn x arwen #aragorn #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr

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blossombriefs · 10 months ago

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Agora Hills | A Goku OneShot [NSFW]

Authors note: hey guys! Be sure to drop a follow and a like! The support goes a long way! I'm also happy to take requests - please be following me and shoot me a message. I can work of prompts such as songs, locations, colours, scents. Give me a brief description and the characters you'd like. This also has potential for a fully smutty part 2 so if that's something you'd want to see let me know! Prompt: Doja Cat's song 'Agora Hills' "who's that man with the big strong hands?" "You're the one you're the only man, me and you on my OnlyFans" Summary: The reader is an OnlyFans model and after being threatened at a party has to come clean to her boyfriend, Goku Content: afab!reader x Goku, mature themes, blackmail and drama (Vegeta being a total asshole), mentions and details of anxiety, story heavy, soft smut near the end Word Count: 2836 words

Times had been a bit financially straining on you since you tried to settle down with Goku. You both shared a lovely home and with plans to start a family together, you needed to find a source of income to start planning ahead. Goku was constantly off either fighting insane battles on faraway planets or was off training with his friends. Sure, you could have just looked for something in your local area like in a store or on a farm, but when Bulma encouraged you to look into the site OnlyFans, it piqued your interest. Bulma is the best source of motivation you have. You were a little unsure about it but with her lovely compliments toward your appearance, you couldn't help but try it.

You had set up a tripod with a ring light in the corner of your spare room to get the perfect shots, using your phone to capture so many pictures of you in cute lingerie sets you had. You also used a couple of your boyfriend's t-shirts for a baggier look on your body. Your income was plentiful as your platform grew and grew. It covered bills, put food on the table and even left some over for you to treat yourself and Goku. However, one question always lingered in the back of your mind.

"How long can I keep this hidden from him?"

You hated keeping secrets from Goku, transparency was such a huge foundation your relationship was built on. He was always honest with you, would this hurt his feelings?

On one of the evenings he had free, Goku had invited you along to a gathering at Krillin and Android 18's home. Everyone was going to be there and you could tell from his eagerness that he was excited for you to finally meet the rest of his friends. You felt that it had been a long time coming and you put so much effort into how you looked while Goku sported his traditional orange gi. Hopping onto the nimbus cloud, he held you tightly as it whisked you toward the Kame House. As you approached your destination, you were both greeted by waves as everyone gathered outside on the beach. You nervously held onto your boyfriend's arms as he waved gleefully to them all, keeping the same wave and smile through your descent. You both bounced off together, greeting everyone. Going around everyone, you were introduced to his friends one by one.

"Y/N this is Krillin and 18," he extended his hand toward a slender, tall blonde woman and her opposing counterpart. You smile as you shake their hands and introduce yourself. Gradually he made his way around the rest of his friends; Master Roshi, Piccolo, and Yamcha were part of the introductions. Finally, your attention was directed to Bulma and her partner, who you hadn't yet met. He stood beside her with his arms folded over a buttoned up blue shirt, his aura nothing short of intimidating.

"Y/N, you haven't met my husband Vegeta yet have you!" Bulma chirped, taking his arm and yanking him toward you and Goku. You smiled at him timidly, admitting you were kinda afraid of him wouldn't have been the best first impression in your mind. You could sense him looking you up and down, choosing to address you with a scoff.

"So this is Kakarot's harlot, yes?"

You looked to Bulma in disbelief as her hand slapped his shoulder harshly. Goku was quick to wrap his hand around your waist as he spoke up, "Hey, c'mon Vegeta you know that's not very nice!"

He simply huffed in your direction as he followed the rest of the group inside, Bulma not far behind screaming an earful toward him. You felt uneasy, Goku rubbed your arm to try and ease you. You weren't someone to take comments like that to heart but something just didn't feel right. You all took your seats in the living room and for the most part the evening was going well. You all shared some drinks, had a laugh, shared some food. You hit it off so well with everyone that you felt like you were part of the family... all besides one person.

Crossing paths in the kitchen, Vegeta glared you down as you look a fresh glass from the cupboard. When you sat it down again to pour another drink you glanced back in his direction, "Can I help you?"

"Don't think I don't know your secrets," he slowly walked toward you, you felt as if he hadn't uncrossed his arms from your initial introduction. If looks could kill Vegeta would've buried you 100ft underground. "You know your vulgar acts aren't suited to him, that clown deserves a woman with a bit more self respect."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you retort. Your hands shaking as you unscrew the lid from the top of the bottle. Deep down you knew what he was referring to but how did he know?

"That woman runs her mouth to me about everything," his reply was cold. He turned his back to you and began walking toward the door that led to everyone else. "You tell him or I will."

A shudder ran down your spine. The tension left behind lingered with his words. Your heart raced, the weight of your secret growing heavier on your shoulders. You took a moment to collect yourself as you decided Vegeta couldn't be the one to tell Goku. Just as he was about to reach the doorway, you spoke up and the tone in your voice was full of determination.

"Wait, Vegeta please." you plead as you set the bottle down. He turned to look back in your direction with his arms still crossed and his expression staying cold. You look to your feet, "I'll tell him but please could we continue this conversation outside."

Vegeta continued to eye you for a moment, his pride more than evident, but eventually he nodded. Hoping you had cracked him he turned away and led you out the back door to the beach, the soundtrack to your serious conversation being the crashing waves of the sea. You lowered your voice and spoke soft, revealing your own vulnerability beneath what you were portraying as tough, "I never intended on keeping anything from Goku. It's just complicated and I never knew how to bring it up."

His response was a shake of his head and a scoff as he stared you down intensely, "He deserves to know what kind of person he's with, that woman refuses to tell him. I don't even understand what it is you're up to! Y-you're lewd-"

"I have an OnlyFans account," you confess with a deep breath. "It's just a way to bring in some money for us and I just didn't want him to worry about our future. I never intended on disrespecting him I-"

As his scowl deepened and his silence remained, you could tell he was taking in what you were telling him. Wether he'd allow you to tell him yourself or not was on the table was another story. He grunted and without allowing another word to leave your lips, he turned and walked back inside with you close on his heels. Your heart felt heavy with what could follow. You didn't know what would be said. You reentered the living room, Goku glanced at you with a sweet smile, blissfully unaware about the conversation you had just had as you took your seat beside him.

The living room buzzed with conversation and laughter but as you cuddled into Goku's strong arm the weight of the conversation with Vegeta was weighing on your mind, you could feel his intense gaze follow you from the other side of the room as you tried to settle in. A silent threat that you had to tell him sooner rather than later.

As the evening continued, you'd engage in small talk with the others to try and keep your composure but what made your heart feel warm was seeing how happy Goku was. He's an incredibly social person, much more than your average person, and was more than happy being in the company of his friends. After a while, Bulma pulled you into the kitchen. She had noticed how reserved you had become throughout the night and was growing concerned, "Is everything okay?"

You nodded with a forced smile, "Just a little burned out and tired, that's all."

She looked at you with sympathy, placing her reassuring hand on your shoulder, "You sure? You know you can tell me anything, right? If it's because of Vegeta's comment earlier I can always talk to him?"

You shook your head and smiled gently, "Thank you Bulma, honestly, but it's fine! I didn't take it to heart."

You lied through your teeth but she bought it, patting your back as she left you alone with your thoughts. Your anxiety was gnawing at you, you knew what loomed ahead.

As the night gradually wound down, Goku yawned and stretched as he turned to the remaining few people left. With a thankful smile he suggested that you both head home. He stood up, spinning you in his arms to face him. "You look beautiful. You're perfect. Your dress you picked is so beautiful I just can't wait to get back home."

You beamed looking up at him, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. He smiled as he kissed you back in return. However, your loving moment was interrupted by none other than Vegeta.

"I bet you won't be the only man to see what's under that dress tonight, Kakarot," he smirked.

You looked up, witnessing the glee in your boyfriend's face shift into shock. The panic surged through your body as you clung to him tighter, Vegeta's words hanging in the air. You looked towards him with a disapproving look but Vegeta remained totally unfazed, his arms crossed and a sly grin plastered on his face.

"What are you talking about, Vegeta?" Goku furrowed his brows, his hands slipping from your waist.

His response was sharp, leaning in with a wicked glint in his eyes, "Oh, nothing, Kakarot. Just saying that some things... or some people... aren't as pure or nice as they appear."

The air was heavy with tension, your throat was running dry as tears began filling your eyes. Bulma stepped in between the two men swiftly, placing a hand on her husband's chest, "Vegeta enough. Stop it! There's no need for this you're making the poor girl cry!"

Goku's face was still taken over with confusion, turning his attention from Vegeta to you. You could hear his own worry take over, his eyes like a puppy's, "Baby what's going on? What does he mean?"

You were hesitant and unable to string your words together. Again, stealing your opportunity, was Vegeta, "Ask your precious partner about her little online endeavors. She's not as innocent as she appears."

You sigh, placing a hand gently against his chest as you look up towards him. Taking a deep breath and your voice was trembling, "Can we talk when we're home about this Goku, please."

The arrogant Saiyan prince wasn't done. It wasn't good enough for him. Purely with a sarcastic tone he chimed in once more, "Oh, how touching. Wanting to keep things private now? The woman who claims she loves you oh so much is selling herself online for a few extra zenies! Showing herself off to other men, tarnishing your trust."

Unable to process what he was being told, he hung his head as he let go of you entirely. Your arms dropped from his shoulders. He sighed gently, "I'll be outside Y/N. When you want to come home come meet me. We'll talk about this at home."

"Goku plea-" your words couldn't stop him from leaving, slamming the door behind him. You couldn't do anything but tremble. You knew why Vegeta did this, he loved seeing Goku weak or vulnerable. You also knew Bulma wouldn't let him live this down. You smiled sadly in her direction and thanked your hosts, leaving behind a now perplexed group of friends. Sat in the sand outside, creating little patterns in the sand with his finger, was your boyfriend who sat in an overwhelmed silence. You took a deep breath, shuffling in the sand beside him which left your dress covered. The beach was serene at night, the waves crashing against the shore heavy at the other side. "Please, let me explain,"

He sat in an almost child-like silence, his eyes fixated on the shapes he had drawn. The gentle sea breeze carried your tension and sadness. You had never seen him so hurt, it was all your fault. He looked up at you with tears starting to form in his eyes, "I can't believe you'd cheat on me with Vegeta..."

"Goku what?" you said, shocked. "I just met him today?"

"Look, Y/N, I love you. I don't want to lose you. If you've been chatting with him online and-"

This is where everything clicked, Goku had no idea about OnlyFans and what the site was. He took Vegeta's words at face value. You shook your head and cupped his face in your sandy hands. "Baby no, it's not that. I have an account on this website where I sell some pictures of myself and it brings us in lots of money."

Goku wiped his eyes, blinking back anything else that could spill. "What do you mean?"

"These men that buy these pictures don't see me in person. They don't touch me. We don't have sex. It was just an easy solution to our money problem and I'm sorry I wasn't honest. Vegeta knew because Bulma told him. I can't be angry at her for that..."

"So-so you're not sleeping with other people. He made it sound so filthy."

"I can show you what I do when we're home." you reassure him. His face softened as the weight of the misunderstanding started to lift from his shoulders.

"I should've trusted you, I'm sorry." he whispered. You held him close to you, you thought through that night you could've lost him.

"I should've been honest from the start, I just didn't want you to worry. I'd never have wanted to have hurt you."

As he gently pulled back from you he summoned his nimbus cloud. Kissing your forehead gently he softly spoke, "I just want to understand everything. We can move forward together afterwards can't we?"

You nodded gratefully at his understanding words. Together, you climbed aboard your transport home. You could tell from the way he held you that he was still skeptical and his emotions were mixed. You wanted to do your best to help him understand.

Once you arrived back to your house, hand in hand you led Goku upstairs to show him the tripod and ring light set up in your spare bedroom. Sitting him down on the bed, you ran through how the site worked. He nodded along taking in every drop of information. You shown him how much income you brough in each day and explained what everything went to. Finally, you handed him your phone to look through the photos. His eyes widened in a gleeful way as he began to flick through them.

"Babe, you look smoking hot in these!" he beamed. You could feel the negative tension lift off your relationship and a new tension start to brew. Looking up with a smirk, "Can I help sometime?"

"You wanna help?" you gently smile. He nodded his head fast. His hands wandered to the front of your strappy dress, carefully slipping it down to reveal your bouncy, perky tits to him. You flushed red a little. Once your phone was propped up on the tripod, you posed for a few photos with your ever supportive boyfriend. You tried letting him control the ideas, however his Saiyan instincts were close to kicking in and wouldn't leave much time for many pictures. He stayed behind you in most of the shots, cupping your breasts with his big, strong, calloused hands or encouraging them down to play with your pussy. You hadn't done anything sexual on your account yet and allowed him to assist with teasy photos. His hands grabbing your ass, his hands squeezing your thighs. He was giving you the content that could only grow your platform more.

He gently left little bites and bruises on top of your breasts, neck and shoulders. With a cocky grin and a chuckle, he whispered in your ear, “Now they’ll know you belong to me.”

Finally, he took some of you sitting on top of him. You gently straddled him as he slipped his fingers in your mouth for the final shots, your spit dripping down his hand as he looked up at you in pure amazement.

"That's my girl," he said with a gently slap to your ass. You tilted your head gently as you looked down at your strong, sexy boyfriend pinned under your thighs.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"When can I fuck you for all your fans to see?"

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #anime #fanfic #goku x reader #goku #son goku #dbz #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #x you #bulma #vegeta

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ltash · 5 months ago

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Pretty Little Teacher

Simon Ghost Riley x female reader

Warning: 18 plus, dubcon and noncon theme, dark themed, dark ghost, s*x and erotica, forced sex.

He loves me like a monster, all teeth and talk and hiding in the dark. That's my speciality, Men with strong bodies and fragile hearts, and if you hold them too tightly they will crumble beneath you like an avalanche that is waiting."

●●○~ Lindsey Hobart ~○●●

Ghost sat in his dimly lit room, the blue glow from the laptop screen casting sharp shadows across his masked features. Laswell's voice echoed in his ears, calm yet commanding.

"You have to go undercover to gather some intel," she instructed, her face a picture of seriousness on the screen. Ghost's fists clenched, his eyes narrowing as deep creases appeared at the corners. He remained silent, absorbing the gravity of the assignment.

"You'll be posing as a high school student. We have made all the arrangements. The principal and teachers are informed. We need important intel about a person working there. I'm sending you a report. Read it," Laswell said, her tone leaving no room for discussion. She hung up the video call before Ghost could utter a word.

"Fuck!" Ghost cursed, his frustration evident. "Now I have to become a fucking high schooler," he spat, the absurdity of the situation gnawing at him.

As a highly trained SAS soldier and an elite killing machine, Ghost was used to the most dangerous and covert missions. But this? This was entirely different. How the hell was he supposed to blend in as a high schooler with his massive height and muscular build? He would look like a fish out of water, a grown man playing dress-up.

He opened the report Laswell had sent, scanning through the details of his new identity and the target he needed to surveil. The mission was critical, he reminded himself. He had faced worse odds and more dangerous situations. But even as he reassured himself, the thought of navigating the social labyrinth of a high school filled him with a unique dread.

"Guess it's time to go back to school," he muttered under his breath, already strategizing how he would tackle this bizarre new mission.

Ghost scanned the report, eyes moving quickly over the lines of text. Someone from the office staff was involved in terrorist activity, and the school's security was compromised. The specifics were still murky, but the mission was clear: infiltrate, gather intel, and neutralize the threat.

As he read, his phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was Soap.

"Hey, high schooler! Need help picking out your backpack?" Soap's message read, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

Ghost growled in irritation. Soap had been making fun of him since he got the assignment. In truth, Ghost thought Soap was the one who was fit for this job. With his leaner build and younger appearance, Soap would blend in effortlessly. But orders were orders.

"You're just jealous you can't relive your glory days," Ghost shot back, though he knew Soap would get a kick out of his reply.

He closed the report and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. This mission was unlike any he had faced before. It required a different kind of camouflage, a different kind of patience. He was about to step into a world of teenage drama, cliques, and homework. But he would adapt, as he always did. He had no choice.

Monday morning arrived too quickly. Ghost stood in his small apartment, the usual grey hoodie and sweatpants hanging off his frame. Soap had helped him gather the essential school supplies: notebooks, pens, and a new backpack that didn't look out of place for a high schooler. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and slipped on his skull-printed balaclava. His identity had to be hidden at all costs.

He climbed into his Range Rover and drove to the school, parking a distance away to avoid drawing attention. With a deep sigh, he exited the vehicle and made his way to the school entrance.

The moment he stepped into the corridor, the contrast of his presence was stark. Teenagers milled about, chatting and laughing, but Ghost felt like a fish out of water. His height and build made him stand out like a sore thumb, despite the hoodie and balaclava doing their best to conceal his identity.

He pushed forward, reminding himself of the mission's importance. He needed to find his way to the office, get his bearings, and begin gathering intel. The corridor seemed endless, each step echoing with the sounds of lockers slamming and indistinct chatter.

"Fucking Hell," he muttered under his breath, trying to blend in as much as a heavily-built, masked adult could in a sea of high schoolers.

Ghost made his way to the last classroom on the K-12 hallway, assigned as a senior posing as an 18-year-old. Despite being 29 with a muscular build, he hoped to blend in with the 12th graders.

He opened the door and walked in, immediately feeling the curious eyes of his new classmates on him. Ignoring the stares, he scanned the room for any signs of the person he was here to investigate. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, looked up from her desk.

"You must be the new student," she said, motioning him to an empty seat near the back. "Welcome."

Ghost nodded and made his way to the seat, keeping his head down. He dropped his backpack on the floor and settled in, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. The other students eventually lost interest, returning to their conversations and distractions.

As the teacher began the lesson, Ghost's mind raced. He knew he had to keep a low profile while also staying alert for any signs of suspicious activity. His eyes roved over the room, memorizing faces and noting behaviors. The target could be anyone-an unsuspecting office staff member, a seemingly innocent teacher, or even a fellow student.

The day had been a tedious blur for Ghost, each monotonous class blending into the next. Used to the adrenaline of combat and the precision of sniper shots, he found the slow pace of high school unbearable. But all that changed when you entered the room.

Your presence was electrifying, a stark contrast to the dull atmosphere. The click of your red Louboutin pumps echoed in the silent classroom as you made your way to the front. Your black dress pants, stylishly slit, and button-up shirt under a sleek black blazer highlighted your figure. Long, blonde hair cascaded down your back, framing your big blue eyes and perfectly pink lips.

Ghost felt a surge of desire course through him, his mind racing with thoughts he knew he shouldn't entertain. He imagined gripping your tiny waist, pulling you close, feeling your petite frame against his as he lost himself in you. The urge to take you, to dominate you, was almost overwhelming.

"Hey! Newbie, are you listening?" Your voice cut through his fantasies, pulling him back to reality.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his husky British accent barely masking his distraction.

"Your name?" you asked, standing near his desk, your eyes meeting his.

"Simon," he answered, using his real name to avoid any potential mistakes.

"Well, Simon, try to pay attention," you said with a faint smile before returning to the front of the class.

As you began the lesson, Ghost forced himself to focus, but it was a losing battle. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, and the way your presence stirred something primal within him. He needed to remember his mission, but in that moment, all he could think about was how desperately he wanted you.

The period ended, and Ghost watched you leave the classroom, struggling to control his thoughts. You stood out among the middle-aged teachers, looking so young, no older than 25. How could someone like you be teaching 12th graders? The question burned in his mind, but it was more than just curiosity; he was captivated by you.

He barely remembered the rest of the day, his mind fixated on you. As soon as he could, he retreated to his apartment. The urge to release the tension was overwhelming. Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his muscular frame. His cock was already hard, fueled by the image of your lips wrapped around him.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand wrapping around his shaft. He imagined you on your knees, your pink, plump lips taking the full length of his cock in, your big blue eyes looking up at him with a mix of innocence and desire. His strokes quickened, his other hand gripping the air as he fantasized about it tangled in your long, blonde hair.

His body tensed, muscles straining as he neared the edge. The thought of you sucking him off, your pretty little mouth taking him deeper, his cum all over your face pushed him over. He climaxed hard, a guttural groan escaping him as he came, the pearly liquid mixing with the warm water and flowing down his thick thighs.

Leaning against the shower wall, he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. The intensity of his release did little to quell the longing he felt. As the water washed away the evidence of his fantasy, he knew he was in trouble. This mission was supposed to be about gathering intel, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. He needed to stay focused, but the image of your gorgeous face and enticing body lingered in his mind, a distraction he couldn't afford yet couldn't resist.

The next day, Ghost found himself eagerly anticipating school, though for entirely different reasons than his usual missions. From the moment he had first seen you, you became his muse, eclipsing the seriousness of his undercover assignment. Dressed in blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and a sleek black leather jacket that concealed his tattoo sleeve, he waited through all six periods just for a glimpse of you.

When you finally entered the classroom, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Students greeted you warmly, but Ghost's attention was solely on you. You wore high heels that accentuated your figure, a casual T-shirt, and form-fitting pencil jeans that emphasized your curves. It was undeniable-you were the most stunning woman he had ever encountered.

As you distributed MCQ papers among the students, you approached Ghost's desk. Your curiosity got the better of you as you inquired about his mask. "Why are you wearing a mask?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"I get sunburn," he replied smoothly, trying to maintain his cover.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill down Ghost's spine. "Weirdo," you whispered teasingly, but your words were loud enough for him to hear. The image of dominating you right there, bending you over the desk, fucking you from behind and hearing you begging to stop, flashed vividly in his mind, your body arched in his hands, pussy clenched around his length as he rails his full length till the hilt into you, ruin your pretty little cunt for everyone while you screaming out his name.

"Concentrate on your paper, weirdo," you mocked again as you moved away.

His jaw clenched with frustration, anger simmering beneath the surface. Despite the rush of desire coursing through him, he remained stoic and silent, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He knew indulging in these fantasies could compromise his mission, yet resisting the pull of attraction toward you seemed almost impossible. Ghost was torn between duty and desire, unsure how much longer he could keep his composure around you.

He had finished his paper along with the other students as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. One by one, they handed their work to you, you seated at your desk. Ghost lingered, the last student to leave, quietly closing the door behind him. Remaining seated, he watched you intently.

Stealth was his forte, and he approached you silently. You were small compared to him, your back elegantly arched as you organized the papers into a neat pile. Standing right behind you, he suppressed the urge to touch you. Suddenly, you moved back, inadvertently brushing against the bulge in his pants. A squeak escaped your lips as you jumped, startled like a bunny, and turned around.

Leaning heavily against the table, you panted, eyeing the behemoth of a man standing before you at his full height for the first time. A shiver ran down your spine from the sensation of his arousal against you. He stood there with a menacing look in his eyes, extending his paper to you. With shaky hands, you took it, feeling a jolt as his gloved hand brushed against you.

Without a word, he turned and left the classroom.

Throughout the drive to his apartment, he couldn't shake the image of you, how your inadvertent touch had stirred a primal urge within him. How you bumped into his erect cock ready to sprung out. The urgency of his mission weighed heavily on his mind, but thoughts of you kept intruding.

Later that day, consumed by desire, he found himself jerking off imagining you once more. He couldn't help but picture your round ass, the sensation of you against him, his cock stretching your gummy walls as he fucks you doggy style, the fantasies growing more vivid with each passing moment. It was a distraction he couldn't afford, yet couldn't ignore.

The next day, he arrived at the school as usual, anticipation swirling within him. Your period had become his favorite, and he waited patiently until you appeared, as usual, with an air of cautious awareness. As the lesson progressed, you couldn't help but notice his chocolate brown eyes fixed on you through his balaclava.

He was no ordinary teenager - tall, dark, and undeniably handsome even with a balaclava on his face, with a presence that set him apart. You felt the weight of his gaze, the tilt of his head to the side like a predator sizing up its prey. Despite the distraction, you continued with your class routine, distributing checked papers to the students, your focus unwavering on your mission.

His gaze remained locked on you, unwavering, as if he had something more than mere curiosity driving his attention. You knew you couldn't afford to be distracted, not with what was at stake.

As you hurriedly left the classroom, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, you reached for your cellphone and stepped into the quiet solitude of the bathroom. With a hushed voice, you spoke into the receiver, "Yes! Tomorrow is the day. We will hunt another doe tomorrow."

Across the line, a voice crackled with excitement, "Perfect. After school, then?"

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding to yourself. "After school." With that, you hung up, slipping the phone back into your pocket.

Unbeknownst to you, Ghost known as Simon, the new student who had been quietly observing the dynamics of his new environment, had overheard your conversation.

From the first day of his undercover assignment, Ghost had sensed something amiss. How could a 25-year-old teacher be instructing seniors when others with more experience were available? It gnawed at him, a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into place. As he stood in the hallway, a vicious smirk spread across his face.

"So you are the one," he whispered to himself, the realization sinking in. "And now, there's nobody that can save you from me. Not even yourself." His mission had taken a dark turn. You are the one involved in human trafficking.

Tomorrow was the day Ghost knew he had to act swiftly. He slipped on his skull mask, adjusted his gear-blue jeans, black hoodie, and vest. His Beretta rested against his chest while his sniper rifle was ready on the passenger seat of his car.

He parked in the nearly deserted school lot, waiting patiently. It was nearly two hours past school hours when he spotted you approaching from the back of the building. You met with another person near a car.

"The girl is in the bathroom, I've hidden her there. Wait here, let me take her out," you said.

Without hesitation, Ghost aimed his sniper rifle at the man's head and took the shot. Skull fragments and brain matter scattered as the bullet found its mark. A scream tore from your lips as chaos erupted.

Ghost calmly placed the sniper rifle on the seat and stepped out of his car. You saw him approaching and instinctively ran. Darkness was descending, the winter chill settling in.

You ran for your life, heart pounding with fear, but Ghost closed the distance quickly. Desperation set in as you realized you had no weapon. You took out a pocket knife and attempted to attack, but Ghost deftly seized your wrist, disarming you.

You screamed and struggled, but he immobilized you, securing your wrists with a zip tie. With a forceful push, he slammed your back against a car, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

Fear and confusion engulfed you as Ghost stood before you, his identity finally revealed, and his intentions chillingly clear.

"Let me go," you tried to scream as he pinned you against the car, looming over you. His 6'4" frame towered over you, casting a dark shadow. The edge of his knife pressed against your throat qnd his hand on your chest kept you pinned against the car.

"Just got you. Now I can't let you go, won't let you go," he whispered in your ear with his husky voice. "How can I waste this pretty little cunt of yours, princess?"

You whimpered and squirmed, fear coursing through your veins. His hand traveled to your neck, his grip so firm that you could barely breathe. You struggled to breath. Your vision blurred as darkness enveloped you, and you melted into his arms like putty.

You went limp in his arms like a rag doll, a pretty little thing for him to play with. He strapped you into the passenger in his car seat and drove off, his mind racing with twisted excitement.

He stroked your hairs with his fingers while he drove. He just had got his little plaything.

Upon reaching his apartment, he carried you inside, laying you gently on the soft sheets of his bed. Even in your unconscious state, you looked so beautiful and irresistible. His excitement grew, his cock twitched from the anticipation building as he stood over you, lost in the dark allure of the moment.

You whimpered as you slowly opened your eyes. Ghost was perched on a couch in front of you. Sitting up slowly, you noticed your hands were still tied in your lap. Your tiny body shivered at the sight of him as he rose to his full height. The room seemed small, his eyes behind the skull mask full of menace, looking straight through you. Your lips quivered with fear as he approached.

"Wakey, wakey, Princess," he taunted, stepping out of the shadows. His blue jeans were tight around his thick thighs, and his black hoodie strained to contain his muscular physique. The skull mask shone dimly in the light. The tattoo peeked through the space between his sleeve and his gloved hand.

You gulped, "Who are you?" you asked in a small voice.

"Ghost. Heard the name before?" He tilted his head to the side, and realization hit you hard-it was Simon.

"What do you want?" you barely whispered.

"You," was his only reply as he stepped closer.

A whimper escaped your lips as you pulled yourself to the other side of the bed and stood up.

"Don't make this hard for yourself, Princess."

Panting, you frantically ran towards the door, but his hands were around your waist in no time. He slammed you against the wall, the impact sending pain throbbing through your back.

His hand smacked the wall beside your head. The barrel of his gun made contact with your chin.

"Look at me!" he shouted, his voice an order. You squeaked in response, your eyes meeting his.

"Good girl," he praised, his hot breath fanning against your face. "I'm a lieutenant, not your average student, and you have to comply-or else." The barrel of his Beretta poked under your ribs. "Choices have consequences," he said softly this time.

"I've been thinking about your body since the day I saw you." He stroked the soft skin of your chest with his gun, trailing it down the valley between your breasts. Your skin quivered under the touch of the cold metal.

"So irresistible, Princess." His husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

You gasped as he snapped your ziptie with a strength so brute it took only a second to come off. Your buttoned blouse came next as he snapped it apart. All the buttons came crashing down on thefloor. Your pearly necklace was snatched from your neck. The pearls came rolling down on the floor.

You gasped as he snapped your bra from the front. Your perky breasts liberated from the confines of the lacy material.

He pulled his mask upto his nose and his lips grazed your neck as his thumb met your nipples squeezing your breasts so hard it was almost painful. A painful moan mixed with pleasure escaped through your lips.

He held you close by your waist and he chuckled as your small waist fitted so easily in both his hands all while kissing your neck while his hands played with the soft skin of your back.

"So soft like plush in my hands." He said as he rubbed your nipples with his rough thumb. A sexy hiss escaped your lips as you threw your head back biting your lips.

"You gave in so easily princess." He whispered. His sexy voice made you moan.

He tossed you over the bed, with a squeak you fell, soft sheets cushioning your back as you landed with a gasp.

His eyes, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own, locked onto yours. "Been waiting to bend you over that goddamn desk in that class and fuck your needy little cunt, princess," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire.

As he removed his hoodie, revealing a canvas of scars that gleamed against his muscular frame, you couldn't help but gasp. Each scar told a story of battles fought and survived, adding to the allure of his rugged demeanor. His predatory approach, intensified by the skull mask he wore, sent a thrill through your veins. He moved closer with a confident stride, his presence filling the room with a primal intensity that both thrilled and unnerved you.

You gasped as he closed the distance. His hands reached for the strap of your jeans, deftly unbuttoning them with a deliberate touch. With a smooth motion, he slid the denim down your legs, revealing your bare skin in the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. You laid exposed before him, feeling both vulnerable and empowered by his gaze.

You knew you were powerless infront of him and he will have his way with you one way or another. Wetness had already pooled between your legs and you were trying hard to hide it by closing them.

He traced the barrel of his gun along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt the cold metal against your sensitive skin.

"Open your legs Princess." He ordered slowly parting your thighs.

"So sensitive, aye?" he said with a mocking tone.

You hissed at the sensation. He slowly pressed the barrel against your clothed folds, eliciting a moan from your lips.

"Please! I beg you, don't do this," you pleaded, my voice trembling.

"Look at you! A wet, hot mess for me," he sneered.

He knelt before you, his hands reaching for your panties. With one tug, he tore the strap, leaving you completely exposed.

"You should thank me, princess, that I'm gentle with you. I'm not very gentle with women. They run from me after what I do to them," he laughed.

Your breath hitched in your throat. "Oh my god," you moaned.

He opened your legs slowly, his fingers parting your folds as he gently touched your swollen clit. Your body quivered with the sensation.

"So soft, so sensitive," he said, as he slid his rough fingers inside you.

A slow scream escaped your lips as your pussy clenched around his fingers. Your back arched, moans spilling from your mouth. He watched your face contort with pleasure as he leaned down, his tongue making circles around the buds of your nipples.

You clutched the sheets, your eyes shut tight as his fingers curled up, hitting just the right spot.

"You sound so pretty, love," he teased, his tongue continuing to play with your nipple. The sensation was heavenly, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He adjusted himself between your thighs, kissing your entire body as he moved down toward your stomach and then your most sensitive part.

He gently kissed the inside of your thighs before his tongue met your folds. Screams of pleasure spilled from your pretty mouth as he nipped and sucked at your already swollen bud.

"Oh, fuck!" you moaned.

He kept teasing your folds with his tongue, sucking your wetness as he held your hips tightly in place.

He kept torturing you with his tongue until you couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I can't take it anymore," you begged.

"Ssh!" he whispered, placing a finger on your lips. "You're going to take it, just a little longer."

Your body trembled as he continued his relentless assault with his tongue, the pleasure overwhelming. He moved his finger from your lips to your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles while his tongue continued its work.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Beg me," he commanded softly.

"Please, please, I need more," you cried out, your body aching for release.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips. "Good girl," he said, his voice low and husky. He increased the pressure of his tongue and finger, driving you closer to the edge. "Now, let go for me."

With his words, you felt the dam break, and waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Your back arched, and a guttural moan escaped your lips as you finally reached your climax. He continued his movements, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, he gently kissed your inner thighs before moving up to your face.

You were still high when he unzipped his pants.

"Been waiting for this ever since I laid my eyes on you," he said, taking his cock and positioning himself on top of you.

You looked at him with dazed eyes.

"Like what you see, princess?" he asked with a smirk.

"I-I can't do this," you pleaded.

"You can do this, and you will," he replied firmly.

He pressed his cock against your entrance, bending you down. Without warning, he pushed his entire length inside, pinning your wrists against the bed. You screamed as your walls wrapped around him, your body struggling to adjust to his size while he fucked you deeply, not giving you any time to acclimate.

You were completely at his mercy, a plaything for his desires.

"Fuck! Princess, you feel so tight around me," he growled, thrusting in deeply.

You were breathless, disoriented by the intensity of it all. He drove into you with unrelenting force, hitting inside you to the extreme. Your back arched under him as waves of pain and pleasure coursed through you. His cock was so big it made an impression inside your belly where it hit.

"How does it feel, me ruining your pretty pussy, love?" he growled, sitting back on his knees and gripping your waist tightly.

Your eyes rolled back as he railed into you with brute force, the sensations overwhelming and consuming.

Whimpers escaped your lips as his hips thrusted against your pelvis. Skin to skin, the intense connection between you sparked a fire that threatened to consume you both. You hid your face in the soft pillow, the tears mingling with your whimpers, your cries echoing in the room like a haunting melody.

He chuckled at the sight before him, the raw vulnerability and passion in your every movement only adding to the intoxicating air surrounding them. "Look at you, eh," he murmured, his voice a low growl filled with satisfaction. "Taking me so well."

With a sudden move, he lifted you up by your waist, your heart racing a mile a minute, your vision blurred with the overwhelming sensation of being completely lost in him. "Oh my god, I am gonna die," you whined, the words a mix of fear and ecstasy that only served to fuel the flames of desire burning between you both.

But he just chuckled, his hold on you firm and reassuring. "Not on my watch, luv," he whispered, his voice a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions and pleasure that threatened to consume you.

He pulled out abruptly, spinning you around and delivering a stinging slap to your ass.

You clutched the sheets as he seized your hips, pulling you towards him and plunging deep inside once more. A primal groan escaped his lips as he grabbed your hair, tilting your head back and driving himself deeper with each thrust.

Your impassioned cries only fueled his intensity. With a firm grip on your waist, he pounded into you relentlessly, embodying the raw, primal desire of a man possessed. Your body arched and trembled on the bed as he pinned you down by your head, pressing your face into the bed.

"I can't do this anymore," you begged him.

He pulled you up onto your knees, his free hand gently gripping your neck while his other arm rested between the valley of your breasts. His hold on your neck was firm but not painful, asserting his control. With a strong grip on your waist, he thrust deep into you.

You leaned against his chest, your face turning towards him as you neared your release. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, swallowing your moans.

His cock twitched and pulsed as he reached his climax. His movements grew erratic as he poured himself into you, filling you with his essence.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto the bed, eyes shutting tight as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.

He settled beside you, carefully tucking you under the sheets while you lay on your stomach, peacefully asleep.

"Sleep well, princess," he murmured, his fingers gently caressing your hair.

The next morning, you woke to find him already seated on the couch, wearing the same skull-printed balaclava, his eyes still filled with menace. Your whole body ached and marked with hickeys. Last nights encounter spiralled in your mind.

"Good morning, princess. I hope you're feeling well," he greeted you, tossing an oversized t-shirt in your direction.

Confusion and fear gripped you. "Who are you? Why did you do this to me? What were you even doing in my class?"

"I'm Lieutenant Simon Riley, also known as Ghost," he replied coolly. "I was in your class because we've been keeping an eye on you. Now, get dressed. You have visitors."

You rose silently and headed to the bathroom to change. As you finished, there came a knock at the door.

He opened it, and police officers entered the room.

"She's all yours," he stated with a smirk beneath his balaclava.

"You'll regret this! I'll make you pay for this!" you screamed as they cuffed you and led you away.

"Fuck you!" You screamed.

He chuckled darkly, watching as you were taken into custody.

"I just did." He winked as you were taken away.

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sematarygirls · 2 months ago

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꒰ sonny carisi x doctor!reader — mentions of blood & violence, doctor/patient relationship, copious medical inaccuracies ꒱ 𝅄

／ the fluorescent lights of the trauma bay reflected off the linoleum floor at mercy general hospital as you readied yourself for an incoming ambulance.

the paramedics rush into the e.r, pushing a man on the gurney. his shirt had been cut open by the paramedics in the ambulance, blood glistening on his skin. a pressure dressing had been applied to the wound, the blood soaking through and staining it crimson.

"gsw, through-and-through to the right shoulder. no visible arterial bleeding. his vitals are stable, but there’s significant blood loss," one of the paramedics informed you, stepping away to let you and the other doctors work.

you quickly moved to his side, your eyes scanning over the wound as you listened to the paramedic's report. you snapped on a pair of gloves and carefully peeled back the blood-soaked dressing. the entry and exit wounds were clean, but the muscle tissue was torn and bleeding.

"how bad is it, doc?" the man groaned, wincing as you peeled back the dressing.

you glanced up at him, offering a reassuring smile. "well, it looks like the bullet passed through cleanly, but we're going to need to get some images done just to be sure," you explained, transferring him from the gurney to a hospital bed with the help of some other doctors.

he groaned, pain flaring up during the move. he gritted his teeth, trying to stay still as a low groan fell from his lips. once he was settled on the hospital bed, you applied a fresh bandage to keep the bleeding under control.

he watched you carefully, his face contorted in pain, but his eyes glimmering with curiosity. his gaze lingered on your face as you tend to him. despite the throbbing ache in his shoulder, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you were. his gaze fell to your badge, reading the name in his head before echoing it aloud. "that's pretty."

"thanks," you said absent-mindedly, brows furrowing in concentration as you grabbed his arm, tying a tourniquet onto his bicep briefly to accentuate his veins, so you could insert an iv. if you weren't in work mode, you probably would have gotten flustered. you weren't blind. you could see how incredibly attractive he was, but it was hardly appropriate to flirt with a man who had a hole in his shoulder.

he held still, his heart racing not just from the pain, but from the closeness of your hands on his arm, the warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, and he felt himself relaxing ever so slightly in your care. as you worked, he studied your face, committing every detail to memory.

he probably should've been much more focused on the fact that he had been shot, but something about you drew him in. he found himself wanting to know more about you, despite how wildly inappropriate the situation was.

"so... doc," he began, wincing as you gently inserted the iv into his arm. "how long have you been working here?" he asked, desperate to keep his mind off the pain and his eyes on you.

you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow at his casual, conversational demeanor, but you decided to humor him. he was the one suffering from a gunshot wound, after all. "a couple years. i just finished my residency."

he hummed, nodding as if he had any idea what that meant. his forte was law, not medicine.

"alright, let's get you to imaging just to make sure everything is all good before we patch you up," you gave him a small smile, beginning to wheel him toward the imaging room.

he gripped the bed's side rail tightly with his left hand, his knuckles turning white as the motion jostled his shoulder painfully. he hissed through his teeth, trying to mask the pain. "so, uh, what do you like to do for fun, doc?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

"patch up talkative detectives," you teased him with a playful grin, carefully pushing the gurney through the doorway.

he chuckled, the sound a little strained as the movement sent a sharp pain through his shoulder. "well, i'm glad i can provide some entertainment for you then," he said, looking around the imaging room as you prepared to get him settled onto the table.

"alright, try to sit still. we're just gonna take some pictures really quick," you said softly, your expression filled with care and warmth.

he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the movement. he bit his lip, trying to stay silent as you and another doctor helped him onto the table. the pain was intense, but your gentle touch and soothing voice made it bearable.

you gave him one last smile before heading into the little viewing room, a row of glass windows allowing you to see him. your eyes stayed trained on the computer screen as you waited for the images to come up.

"no fractures, looks like the bullet missed the bone and major vessels. some soft tissue damage, though," one of the other doctors thought aloud.

you nodded, studying the images. "alright, let’s clean the wounds and get him stitched up. he’ll need a sling and antibiotics to prevent infection, but he got lucky." you reentered the room and moved him back to the gurney, once again, with the assistance of the other doctor. "you're gonna be just fine, detective," you reassured him with a smile. "we're gonna stitch you up and get you settled in a room."

he let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing as the tension ebbed away. "thanks, doc. i owe you one," he said, his voice soft as he gave you a grateful smile. his pain seemed to be lessening now, probably because of the pain drugs you'd administered.

"i'm just doing my job," you laughed softly, wheeling him back to the emergency room to patch him up.

as you got him back to the e.r and worked on stitching up his wounds, he couldn't help but stare at you again. "you know, for a doctor, you're really pretty," he blurted out, the pain meds making him a little loose-lipped. "i mean, not that i was checking you out or anything. just... noticing."

you grinned, laughing softly. it wasn't the first time you'd heard that from a patient hopped up on drugs, but something about him saying it made your heart flutter. "thank you."

he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "sorry. i'm normally smoother than that." he grimaced as you tugged at his skin to tie off another stitch. "and i swear, i wasn't hitting on you. well, not intentionally, anyway."

"good," you smiled, glancing up to look into his eyes. "because, as your doctor, that would be wildly inappropriate." you said it, but there was no real conviction behind your words.

he looked into your eyes and felt his heart skip a beat. there was something about the way you were looking at him, something warm and gentle that made him feel all sorts of fluttery inside. "right," he said, his voice a little shaky. "doctor-patient relationship and all that."

"mhm," you hummed, continuing to stitch him up with practiced efficiency.

he couldn't help but stare at you as you worked. the concentration on your face, the gentle touch of your hands. he found himself wondering what it would be like if those hands were touching him elsewhere.

"alright, all done," you said, pulling him from his inappropriate thoughts as you finished off the last stitch and pulled away. "now, i'm just gonna wrap you up with a bandage to keep it all clean and catch any residual bleeding," you explained, turning to grab a fresh bandage.

he watched you carefully, his eyes following every minor movement with interest. he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that you were almost finished with his arm. he wanted to keep talking to you, keep feeling your gentle touch on his skin. "so, doc... do you ever go out?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"do i ever go out?" you laughed at the silly question, turning back to him, bandages in hand.

"yeah, you know, date. have a life outside of the hospital." he grinned, watching as you began to wrap his arm. "i mean, not that i have room to talk, being a detective and all, we work crazy hours."

"honestly," you said, wrapping his shoulder carefully, trying not to let your gaze linger on his chest, which was glistening with sweat. "i don't remember the last time i was on a date."

"well, that's a crime," he joked, his eyes wandering over your face.

"you would know, huh?" you fired back, a grin on your face. the playful banter was something you hadn't experienced in a long time, and you found yourself craving more time with him.

he chuckled, liking the easy back-and-forth with you. "yeah, i'd know," he said, his gaze drifting to your lips. "so, doc, what do you say to me taking you out on a proper date?"

you bit your lip, pulling away as you finished up. "well, i would say that's incredibly unethical." you were trying to maintain a professional demeanor, but truthfully, you wanted to go out with him more than anything.

"right," he said, nodding. "but once i'm all healed up, i won't be your patient anymore. technically." he grinned hopefully at you. "come on, doc. let's go out. let me take you to dinner."

"one date," you relented, smiling at him. though, you were sure you'd probably end up agreeing to many, many more dates. you knew it was unethical and wrong in probably about a dozen ways, but you couldn't resist his charm or his boyish good looks.

he grinned broadly, his face lighting up. you noticed how his eyes crinkled and his dimples deepened. "one date," he agreed. "and who knows? maybe i'll get shot again, and we can make it two."

"as your doctor, i'm going to have to strongly advise against that," you laughed. he opened his mouth to say something else, but your pager cut him off. "shit," you muttered. "i've gotta go, but," you grabbed a pen and the first thing you could find, which just so happened to be a clean bandage—ironically fitting—and jotted down your number. "here's my number. call me when you're all healed up," you paused, giving him a stern look. "and not a second before."

"yes, ma'am," he nodded, smiling widely as he took the bandage from you, his gaze darting to take in the sloppily scribbled number before looking. back at you. his eyes followed you as you rushed away, his smile never faltering. he couldn't wait for his shoulder to heal.

#🎀#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 📖 sol writes .ᐟ #forgive me for the inaccuracies #im not a doctor #real doctors dni for your own sanity #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #dominick carisi jr #dominick carisi jr x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #dominick carisi #dominick carisi x reader

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sloancameronspits · 6 months ago

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Shattered Relics

A new Overwatch grunt who isn't quite ready for the field finds themselves enmeshed with a sweet archaeologist who saves them from peril. Venture x reader, hurt/comfort, romantic by the end. CW for non-life threatening injuries. Word count: 3014

This is something I wrote primarily for myself as a result of my Venture obsession and as an experiment in first-person writing, but feel free to insert yourself into it too if you'd like. The reader is gender neutral, after all. Loosely based on Venture's animated intro.

---

As the sands near Petra came into view, the reality of joining Overwatch fully hit me for the first time. It was possible, albeit difficult, to repress the anxiety in the training simulations. Here, thousands of miles from home, it simply wasn’t tenable anymore. I approached the front lines, where Overwatch soldiers were in conflict with Talon operatives attempting to steal a cache of precious artifacts. I wasn’t high rank enough to know any details about the artifacts, but the higher-ups seemed confident that their security was a critical task for Overwatch.

I repeated what I had to do in my head. Steady grip. Careful aim. A bullet whizzes past my head. Shit. Shit. I’m going to die. I drop the gun, falling to my knees in the sand. I knew this was a bad idea. I could hear shouts, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. Another bullet impact, far above me this time, followed by a horrible crack. I’m only able to look up for a moment before a shard of rock hits me, and consciousness fades.

---

The first thing I noticed on waking up was the red sandstone ceiling above me, followed by my surroundings. I was lying on a sleeping bag in a small cavern, next to a tent and unlit fire pit. Definitely not where I was earlier. Well, I’m not dead. The next thing I noticed was the intense pain shooting through my body.

“Ow. Fuck. Ow.” I couldn’t restrain myself from shouting aloud to no one in particular. To my surprise, there was a response.

“Oh!” An exclamation, far too chipper for the situation, came from nearby. “You’re awake! I was starting to worry you were gonna be history.” A mop of messy brown hair mixed with sand, dirt, and a pair of extremely scuffed goggles came first out of the tent, followed by the rest of the strange person.

I was dazed. “Who… are you… with Overwatch?” My speech unsteady, I tried to sit up. Sharper pain shot through my legs. I winced and fell back down.

“I, uh, wouldn’t do that.” The strange person frowned. “You got beat up pretty bad.” They reached out a hand for a shake before realizing my position couldn’t accommodate such an action, sheepishly retracting it. “Sloan Cameron. I’m with the Wayfinder Society.”

I managed to pull myself together at least enough to hold a conversation. “So what am I doing here, I guess is my question.” I asked flatly, still stunned.

“Oh! Well that’s easy to explain!” Sloan’s eyes lit up. “So. We’re here at Petra trying to find some cool artifacts. I’m here, drilling away-” They gestured to the incredibly large drill resting beside their tent. “And I hear a bunch of commotion outside. I try to ignore it, but some Talon goons break in looking for any of our finds, so Venture jumps into action!”

I smirk. “Venture?”

Sloan glances away, embarrassed. “It’s uh, my codename. I think it’s cool. Anyway, I drove them out of the digsite and decided to help out the Overwatch fighters get rid of the rest of those Talon jerks.” The word wasn’t harsh, but their glare and tone made their hatred clear. “Oh! And then I spotted someone trapped under a rock. That would be, uh. You. And I couldn’t bear to leave someone injured there, so I carried you back here!”

“Thank you. I-” My incoming apology is cut off by a cough.

“Here.” Sloan lay a gentle hand on the nape of my neck, propping up my head and pouring water into my mouth. I hadn’t realized how dry my throat was - I wasn’t used to the desert. Their hand was rough, calloused from the hard work of excavation, but it still gave a tender, caring touch. My eyes fixated on their other hand, clutching the flask of water, and I slowly moved my gaze along their arms. Nicely toned - can’t be easy lugging around a drill that size. They were able to carry me, too, so they must be pretty strong…

“Ay. Eyes up here.” Sloan said sternly. When I met their eyes with mine, they gave another wide smile. “Figured if you were staring you’d at least want to see my famous smile.” One of their front teeth was chipped, but it didn’t affect the infectiousness of their joy one iota.

Caught red-handed, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of shame, even if they didn’t seem to mind that much. I finished the last of the water and let my head hit the sleeping back again. “So… Venture? Uh… Sloan?” I said, ending off with a lilt of uncertainty.

“Either’s fine!” They cheerily replied.

“Good to know. So, what about those artifacts you’re protecting?”

“Aha! You didn’t doubt Venture, did you?” They rummaged through their pack, furrowing their brow for a moment before triumphantly retrieving a small golden object with the face of Anubis. “This little ushabti is something I’ve chased for a while. It used to be in Cairo, but now it’s here in Petra. Now, you might notice that it’s shaped like Anubis. I’m not sure why it was brought here of all places, but I have some theories-” They stopped suddenly. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No! Go on, I like your enthusiasm.”

“Really? Most people outside of the Society get bored. Anyway, I think there must be some kind of group here worshiping Anubis. I don’t have any proof of it yet, but why else would they bring it here?” They put a hand on their chin. “I guess they could just be thieves, but that’s way less fun.”

“Well, if you’re able to fight against those Talon soldiers, I assume you’ve got the wherewithal to deal with whatever horrible curses you’ll dredge up by disturbing a ritual site.” I joked.

“Oh my gosh. Do you think it’d be cursed? That would be so cool.” Their eyes were wide, lit with excitement. “I shouldn’t keep you up, though. You should really get some more sleep. I’ve called some of my colleagues back at base camp. They’re gonna come by and get you later tonight and take you back to get some actual medical attention.”

“Are the other Wayfinders like you?”

Sloan laughed. “No, they’re much more serious. They let me do my own thing.”

My mood soured, and from Venture’s expression it was visible on my face. “That’s a shame. I was really enjoying listening to you…”

“Hmmm…” Their eyes wandered as they lost themselves in thought. “I mean, you’re totally free to stay in my room at the outpost if you can’t get enough of little ol’ me.” They shot a pair of finger guns along with a wink.

“I… I’d like that.” I said, eyes fluttering closed. “If it’s not too much of a burden.”

“Course not!” Even with eyes closed I could tell from their tone they were grinning. “It’s a date.”

---

The boundary between sleep and consciousness was thin. My body needed the rest, but my mind was sick of sleep. By the time I finally woke up fully, night had fallen. The air was cold, but a fire now crackled at the formerly ashen fire pit. I made an effort to sit up - a successful one, this time. Perhaps the injuries weren’t as severe as I’d thought?

“Howdy hey.” Venture gave a quick wave from beside the fire. They were now wearing a thick yellow jacket and seemed considerably more comfortable, though they had a fresh few markings of dirt on their face. “Glad to see you up. I made some tea; ya want some?”

I nodded, and they passed over a nondescript mug filled with an enchantingly warm tea. “I’m surprised you’re able to keep this from breaking. I mean you’ve got to move around so much in this line of work…”

“Oh, they break. That’s why it’s so boring and cheap.” They said. “Plus, it means that my bags always come back with pottery shards even if I don’t find anything!”

I laugh and take a sip. “Well, the tea inside is still nice. Thank you.”

“Of course! My culinary skills are second to none.” They laughed a bit before adding quietly, “They don’t let me cook back at base after the incidents.”

I paused for a moment, then continued to sip a bit slower. “You’ll have to tell me about that some time.”

“Aaaaaaanyway-” They said, cutting me off a bit. “Your, uh, low-tech medivac will be here soon, and I can show you around the Wayfinder Society Petra Forward Operating Base! Hope you can used to rooming with two other people though, it might get a bit cramped.”

“Two? I didn’t know you had a roommate. I hope it won’t be too much for them.”

“Ah, it’s really no worries. Rosetta loves people!”

---

The trip from Venture’s makeshift campsite to the Wayfinders’ larger outpost wasn’t too long, though the terrain meant it wasn’t exactly the smoothest ride. Still, it was worth it to avoid the whiplash of hot days and cold nights of the desert. The outpost was sterile and scientific, upsettingly similar to the Overwatch training simulations I’d grown to despise, but it was nice to be somewhere climate controlled for the first time in a few days.

“Here we are! Not much, but it’s mine. And now yours!” Sloan excitedly said upon us reaching their tiny room. Despite its size, it managed to contain a bunk bed and plenty of the archaeologist’s trinkets.

“You mentioned a roommate? Are they here?”

“Oh, Rosetta? Yeah, she’s over there.” Sloan pointed toward a nearby table.

Puzzled, I followed their finger. The table had a small rock with googly eyes stuck on. “Venture.” I said flatly.

They were grinning. “Anyway, I gotta go talk about my findings to the higher-ups. Feel free to get to know each other. I’ll be back later byeee-” They trailed off as they half-jogged away from the room. They really were a strange one.

“Well. Just you and me, Rosetta. How are you doing?” I asked, still harboring some strange belief that she might respond. She did not. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a rock did not respond, but Venture’s attitude toward it gave me some pause, even if it was… unlikely. In lieu of a conversation with an inanimate object, I chose instead to view the baubles Sloan had chosen to bring along. It was a surprising amount for someone so nomadic, a table covered in rocks given less reverence than Rosetta, along with a few pictures stuck to the wall. There were a lot of pictures of Venture at the pyramids, smiling that wide smile that I had already become so fond of, along with a varied collection of other rocks. These didn’t seem to be given personalities, however.

I was still sore from my injuries, so I sat down on the edge of the bed and checked my phone. No messages. Of course. The rest of Overwatch probably thought I was dead. Probably for the best, as this might have technically been deserting. At least the signal was good. I flicked through social media idly. Nothing particularly interesting, but at least it was a distraction.

I lost track of time, and a quick knock at the door jolted me back to reality. It had been longer than I realized if they were already back. They gently opened the door and I immediately realized something was wrong. They were holding two ice cream cones, but their face was sunken.

“Want one?” They offered one of the cones to me, eyes staring straight down. I took it carefully, suddenly deeply concerned for them.

“Am I… causing trouble, Sloan?”

They shook their head, their mop of hair shaking with it. “It’s not you, don’t worry. I am just frustrated.” They flopped onto their bed, one hand raised to carefully protect their own ice cream. “Mind if I complain? I know you’ve dealt with a lot, but…”

I took a lick of my ice cream. “Go ahead. I want to know what happened.”

They sighed deeply. “I told my higher-ups about that ushabti I showed you. I told them that there had to be a deeper reason for Talon bringing it here. They looked me right in the eye and said I was being unrealistic; that it was probably just that Talon was stealing it to fund their activities.” They took a big bite out of their ice cream, then continued, voice quavering. They were on the verge of tears. “They don’t believe in me, y’know? They think I’m a kid. I’m twenty-six! I’ve been with the Society for ten years!” They winced. “Ow. Brain freeze.”

“Are you worried they’re gonna like, fire you?”

“Nah. Nobody else can fend off Talon agents like me, so my job security is really high. I just wish they’d believe in me.”

I thought for a moment. “Best way to get them to listen is to find some more proof.”

They sat up, trying to maintain their composure. “That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t expect anyone else to think it was a good idea. Usually people don’t.”

“I mean, I can’t exactly help directly… but I’d be happy to stay with you and provide whatever I can.”

“You can accompany me back to the dig site if you want. I’d enjoy the company at the very least.” They smiled bashfully. “Oh! We should probably wait until you’re healed, though.”

I took stock of my body. “A few more days should do me. I’m really not hurt as bad as I thought. Anxiety got to me, maybe.” I finished off my cone. “Do you guys get ice cream a lot here?”

“Nah, this is a treat since I had a bad day. I’ve got connections at the cafeteria.” They finished theirs as well. “Ice cream always makes me feel better. Working at an ice cream parlor was the only other job I’ve had. I was so excited that I could eat as much free ice cream as I wanted while on the job…” They sighed dreamily. “Turned out I couldn’t. I had just assumed that I could.” They grinned. “I got fired.”

---

A few more days of rest had me together enough to go out in the field. While Venture told me not to push myself and that they were fine waiting for me, I could tell in their eyes that they missed the digsite. There were other things I noticed about them, of course. The way their laugh sounded, their chipper greetings in the morning, the way their body curved in just the right ways…

It was worth spending the day in the hot desert sun, watching Sloan as they sunk deeper and deeper into the earth below them. Their beautiful hair was smothered by dust and sand, sweat pouring in rivulets down their face, goggles making impressions around their eyes. They were still beautiful, despite it all.

“SLOAN!” I yelled, trying to be heard, over the din of their excavator. “DO YOU WANT TO BREAK FOR LUNCH?”

Their excavator shut off, the drill spinning to a halt. They panted for a moment, then pulled off their goggles. “I uh…” They struggled to catch their breath. “If you need to, go ahead. I wanna go just a little bit deeper. The ground feels like it’s getting softer? It makes no sense.” They grinned. “I’ve gotta be close to a big discovery.”

I watched from a distance as they spun their drill back up, and slowly sunk beneath the earth into their current borehole. Slowly their head sank, and then they vanished, along with a scream. Shocked, I ran over and found the hole they were digging had collapsed into a much larger cavern.

“I’m okay!” Venture’s yell echoed from the bottom of the cavern. “Can you throw a rope down? There should be one in my bag.”

Trying to manage my panic, I hurried over to Venture’s bag and found a length of rope. I tied it to a nearby pole for the tent and threw it down the hole. “Sloan? Did you get it?” I shouted down. No response. “Venture?” Still hearing no response, I checked the strength of the rope. It was secure enough. I carefully climbed down, fearing the worst.

At the bottom of the pit, I began desperately searching for Sloan. It didn’t take long. They were standing in a strange glow, totally entranced by something ahead. I put my hand on their shoulder and saw it too. The far side of the cavern was dominated by a huge artificial structure, or perhaps a titanic Omnic - and it had the face of Anubis. I stood stunned.

After a brief moment, Venture broke the silence. “I knew something had to be here… I wonder, is this based on the Egyptian god, or the AI Anubis…” They trailed off for a moment before noticing my hand on their shoulder. “Oh! You’re here! I can’t take this. This has the potential to define my work for decades. I need to get more people out here. Gosh, there’s so many emotions.” Their eyes met mine. “I, um. Can I?”

I nodded silently.

They leaned in, cupping my face in their calloused hands. I wrapped mine around their shoulders, fingers in their messy, matted hair. It was not the most delicate kiss, but as I fell into their grip and let their lips meet mine, I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful one. They held on, squeezing me tight, backlit by the glow of their new find.

When they finally pulled away, eyes wide with joy, I managed to summon enough bravery to ask Sloan a question. “So, does this mean I can stay with you and the Wayfinders?”

They grinned. “It’s an unusual situation, but with a find like this, I’m sure they’ll be happy to keep you on as my special research assistant. And I’m happy to keep you on as my partner too.” Sloan said with a wink.

#venture x reader #venture overwatch #fanfic #overwatch #chloe writes

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dragonoffantasyandreality · 2 months ago

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Captain Scarlet and the Singing Squadron - Chapter 1: Incoming!

(Prologue, ...)

The adventure begins... ;3

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @mariashades @yarol2075 @etrnlvoid @llamawrites @river-sam2 @coco9728 @hebuiltfive @thalassatra @bassic-ally @pareidoliaonthemove @graverinth

-0-0-0-

Colonel White was staring at the map on the giant screen, taking every detail of every location and memorizing the new target point of the Mysterons.

The Vitaly Power Plant sat at the south of a well-known lake in Eastern Europe, making it the most vital energy distributor both in its local and neighboring continents.

He feared its destruction would bring devastating results. And he would rather not have the already desperate Bereznik taking advantage of the carnage either.

“Now, I made it entirely clear that this Power Plant must be protected at all costs,” he began, his rotating desk turned to address his officers, “It is imperative that no threat comes near it, Mysteron or otherwise.”

“Anything come about the ‘dark shadows’, Colonel?” Captain Blue asked.

“Not that we know of, yet” the white-haired commander frowned.

“Colonel White,” Lieutenant Green, the dark-skinned officer who was sitting at the controls, called, “There are rumors about strange noises in a forest nearby. Should we send somebody to check it out?”

The Colonel took a short moment to process the new information. His head shot up and focused on the task at hand.

“Captain Scarlet, Captain Blue?” he called up.

“Yes sir?” the two Captains stood up.

“I’ll wait for your report on this mystery at noon,” White then addressed the other pair, “And Captain Ochre, Captain Magenta, you guard the Vitaly Power Plant. The Angel Squadron will watch over the sky for any areal threat. Understood?”

“S.I.G!”

“Good. Dismissed!”

-0-0-0-

The green ground was barely visible through the thick white clouds. Making the dread felt dire, as the threat of the Mysterons still rang in everyone’s minds.

The Angels escorting the Spectrum Passenger Jet gave a much sense of security. However, knowing the cunning of the alien race, everyone was on high alert of the potential surprise that they were known for.

Magenta and Ochre, who were sitting at the back of the transport plane, look out at the windows with serious, wide eyes. Taking every clump of cloud with suspicion as they pass by.

“’Dark shadows’, they say…” Ochre squinted, “What do you think how big or small those ‘shadows’ would be?”

“My bets on big,” Captain Blue replied, changing glances between the hologram of the map and of the ground below.

Captain Scarlet was at the pilot seat, with Blue as his navigator to find the Vitaly Power Plant. Eyes on the bright blue sky. He slightly smiled when at the Angel Interceptor flying next to him, piloted by Rhapsody Angel.

Part of his mind drifted into some self reflection. The nightmare from this early morning haunted him like the threat of the dark shadows.

He was alone, empty of a soul. A walking zombie that follows only commands. A ghost with no purpose.

Captain Scarlet shivered slightly. And for a moment he questioned if he was alive… or even human…?

He sighed quietly. At least, he got Adam, his sweet Dianne and the others to ease him up from his dark thoughts.

His reverie was abruptly cut off by the terrible sound of the alarm! The console yelling at him.

MISSILE INCOMING!

“Missile!” Captain Scarlet gritted his teeth as he took a sudden bank turn to starboard!

A large missile missed him by a few meters! Exploding somewhere in the sky.

“Holy Saint Mary!” Captain Magenta gripped his seat as he shoved his nose to the glass window in attempt to locate perpetrator.

“Scarlet!” Captain Blue pointed towards the sky, “Look out!”

They all saw a dark shadow, resembling that of a military Fighter Jet. Most likely one of the new modern models.

“Angels! Engage!” ordered Captain Scarlet.

The Spectrum Fighters began flying after the boogie. However, problems began to immerge; the thing was darned to fast! And it had nearly caught the Angels off guard with its unexpected missile strikes.

Luckily, the pilots managed to evade almost all of them. But how long will they last?

Everyone relied on the Angels’ great skill of aviation and dogfighting to deal with such enemies.

But this one seemed cunning and dangerous.

Seeing the grave danger of what everyone was in, Captain Scarlet quickly thought of a plan to save them all.

“Captain Blue, Magenta, Ochre?” he called.

“Yeah?” his three colleagues responded in unison.

“I’m going to eject all of you. Near the Power Plant. I’ll distract it while you land!”

“Paul!” Blue frowned with worry.

“Believe me!” Captain Scarlet gritted his teeth.

He lowered the aircraft. Low enough away from the danger zone, yet high enough for the parachute to deploy safely, close to their designated mission target.

And with that, Scarlet bid good luck to his friends, and pulled the eject lever.

Captain Blue, Captain Magenta, and Captain Ochre were flown out of the SJP. Their seats deployed the parachutes as they fell. Slowly lowering them into the trees below.

Captain Scarlet, with confidence they would land safely, he pulled up to save the Angels.

He managed to fly right close to the Mysteronized Fighter Jet, close enough to get its attention.

The enemy then began chasing after him, shooting automatic shots at his tail.

“Destiny, Rhapsody, Harmony,” he yelled at the comms, “Evade immediately. Evade-!”

At that moment, a missile hit the back of his aircraft, blowing the engine into a blazing inferno. While cockpit and the rest of the fuselage were intact, Captain Scarlet however, got knocked out by the explosion.

<<Paul!>> was a worried cry from one of the Angels.

The now smoking SJP was falling in a nosedive. With the Mysteronized Fighter Jet following it close behind to finish the job.

Scarlet slowly wakes. Seeing the ground through blurry vision. Strong wind was hitting his injured face, making it hard to breath. He reached for the controls.

But his mind was slowly losing grip with reality. And he was about to pass out again…

Suddenly, another shadow flew pass him. The sound of loud whirring shook Scarlet out of his drifting mind!

His nerves immediately took control of the wheel, pulling up the damaged plane. Meanwhile, he looked over window with wide eyes.

The Mysteronized Fighter Jet was chasing a figure in the clouds. Smaller in size. Its colors barely seen; other than the moment a turquoise belly was revealed. And it possessed terrifying maneuvers! Something that Captain Scarlet haven’t seen before.

What it lacked in speed, makes up in incredible agility… and wit.

One moment, the Mysteron Fighter was flying. Then, at the barely audible sound of automatic shots, the Fighter was up in flames!”

The show mesmerised Captain Scarlet. Making him almost forget at the rising smoke coming into the cabin. He pulled up once more, the transport plane just lifting enough to secure an emergency landing.

Down and down, he went! Falling from the heavens and into the green ground below. In his thoughts, he hoped that his colleagues landed safely before he finally crashed.

His conscience drifted on and off from reality. His vision almost blurry, seeing the green grass from the shattered window. Only the breeze of the gentle wind accompanied his hearing.

Then, the same whirring he had heard from the sky moments ago, began adding to chorus of nature. Approaching. Slowly.

Scarlet saw a shadow of a rounded wing cover a part of the greenery, coming to a stop as the whirring slowed down. His mind went blank, then.

#my fanfics #captain scarlet #captain scarlet and the mysterons #only old men are going into battle #Captain Scarlet and the Singing Squadron #ga fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #gerry anderson

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sissyisawitch · 9 months ago

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Noctua...

Relationship: Ominis Gaunt & Noctua Gaunt

Summary: For his seventeenth birthday, Ominis receives a very unexpected present… A letter informing him that he has inherited his Aunt Noctua's house, and all the memories that go with it.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Author's Note: This one-shot was really important for me to write, so I really hope you'll like it!💚

Warnings: Remembrance of a lost one

Dear Mister Gaunt,

In the name of the Wizengamot, it is with great regret that I remind you of Noctua Gaunt’s passing.

I am writing to you as the executor of your aunt's will to inform you that, before her passing, she appointed you as the fortunate and only heir to her Gringotts vault, and house in Manor Cape. Now that you are of legal age, these assets rightfully belong to you.

To proceed with the official transfer of the property and funds, I will wait for you in Headmaster’s Black office on Monday morning, so that we can discuss the details and the steps to follow.

Best regards,

Ernest Hawkworth

It was the umpteenth time Ominis was rereading the bloody letter with the help of his wand. He had never expected to receive such a poisoned gift on his seventeenth birthday. "'Fortunate heir'"... What a ridiculous thing to read. Who in the world would be happy to learn that a member of their family had died? Someone cruel surely... Or simply anyone other than him in the Gaunt family. Any income was good news for them, whatever the context.

Ominis sighed dejectedly, and tucked the letter away in the inside pocket of his jacket. It was Monday morning. He had better get to Headmaster Black's office.

Mechanically, his feet carried him towards the Gargoyle Corridor, and led him up the stairs. He barely had time to knock on the wooden door before it flew open.

“Ah! Mr. Gaunt!” An unfamiliar man hurried to shake his hand enthusiastically. “I’m Ernest Hawkworth. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course…” Ominis answered idly. “Mr. Black is not with you?”

“No, no. He simply guided me here and left, claiming he had more important things to do, which I have no doubt he does.” Hawkworth explained with a wide genuine smile that could be heard in his voice.

“Typical Black…” Ominis muttered under his breath unintelligibly.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” The Slytherin student quickly replied, before changing the subject. “How did you want to proceed to the transaction, Mr Hawkworth?”

“Well, to start with, I need to show you your aunt's house.” Hawkworth suddenly looked embarrassed. “If you see no objection to… taking m-my arm, I'll apparate us to Manor Cape.”

Ominis knew that this abrupt stuttering had nothing to do with anything other than the fact that he was a Gaunt, a highly reputed family considered to be royalty by the other Purebloods. Hawkworth was probably intimidated by the idea that he was about to touch one of the Slytherin heirs.

Ominis did not bother to reply, restraining himself from rolling his eyes. He simply placed his hand on the man's arm as lightly as possible.

A second and a loud crack later, Ominis found himself in the middle of a radically different scenery.

The first thing he noticed was the melodious trill of birdsong. With each chirp and whistle, he felt a sense of tranquillity wash over him, as if the birds were welcoming him to the only place he had ever called home.

He looked up at the sky, taking a moment to savour the gentle breeze of the countryside brushing against his skin with a soft, comforting touch. It carried with it the faint scent of grass and flowers, a fragrant perfume that filled his senses and invigorated his spirit. Ominis inhaled deeply, taking in the earthy aroma of the land, feeling a deep connection to the natural world around him.

With each step he takes, the man becomes more attuned to the beauty of his surroundings, the sights, sounds, and scents of the countryside enveloping him in a sense of wonder and awe. In this tranquil moment, which awakened all the memories of the moments spent in the house that had enchanted his childhood.

“Well, here we are!” Hawkworth announced eagerly. “There are just a couple of things left to sort out. Don't worry, it won't take much longer.”

“That's all right…” Ominis automatically replied in a dreamy tone.

“First of all, here's the key to your aunt's Gringotts vault... which is now yours. All the arrangements have already been made with the goblins on your behalf.”

“Thank you.” Ominis placed the golden key in his pocket, taking no notice of it.

“And finally, you just need to sign this paper to finalise the inheritance.”

Ominis took the quill that Hawkworth handed him, and signed at the bottom of the parchment. Admittedly, Ominis could not write because of his deficiency (yes, he considered his blindness as such, just like the rest of his family had always done). As a result, he had always used a Quick-Quotes Quill, or asked someone else to write for him. However, once he was older and more mature, Ominis learnt to write his own signature by himself.

“Congratulations, Mr. Gaunt! You are now officially the owner of this delightful residence.” Hawkworth grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. He had found a brand-new sense of confidence, which even allowed him to pat Ominis on the shoulder. “May I take you back to the castle?”

“No, thank you. I'll stay here.” Ominis replied, taking a step back to put an end to this unwelcome contact.

He heard the man in front of him take in a sharp breath, “Very well, then. I won't keep you any longer. It was an honour to meet you, Mr. Gaunt.”

Ominis gently touched the stones of his aunt's house – which he still struggled to accept as now his own. Each stone, cold and ancient under his fingers, seemed to whisper anecdotes of the past, of days filled with laughter and the quiet hum of magic that once filled these rooms.

As he traced the rough texture, the ivy that climbed the walls reached out, tenderly tickling the back of his hand, as if nature itself was trying to comfort him, to bridge the gap between the loss he felt and the legacy he had inherited. It was a small, almost imperceptible connection, but in that moment, Ominis felt a little less alone, surrounded by the lingering presence of his aunt and the life she had cultivated in this magical place.

Hesitant to enter his childhood refuge, Ominis chose instead to wander towards the garden, finding solace in the idea of being closer to nature before confronting the memories housed within those stone walls. On his way, he caught a few wild branches in the face and heard twigs cracking under his feet, a testament to the many years spent without Noctua's care for her plants.

Despite the pitfalls, Ominis continued peacefully towards the lake. The smell of humidity and the soft murmur of the water's gentle eddies... seemed to call out to him, to urge him closer.

With a deep breath, he sat at the water's edge, slipping off his shoes and socks to touch the water, its icy caress sending a shiver up his spine. The cold sensation on his feet jolted a memory loose—a memory of a younger version of himself by this very lake, with his aunt by his side. At the time, he truly could not understand why his aunt had insisted on taking him to an unknown place, something that terrified him, given that he did not yet have his wand to guide him.

He had complained the whole way there, and upon touching the water, he had burst into tears, overwhelmed by the cold and a sudden fear of the unknown depths. His aunt had scooped him up, comforting him with her laughter and assurances that there was nothing to fear. He could still feel her breath against his ear when she whispered that she was right there with him, and that even though he could not see it, the world was too beautiful not to explore it.

Sitting there now, feet submerged in the chilly water, Ominis could not help but smile tenderly, because he now agreed with her. Even though his aunt was gone, her lessons and love continued to guide him, teaching him that it was okay to be scared and that there was strength in facing one's fears, just as he was doing now, one step at a time.

And just like that, his aunt’s words once again gave him the strength to face his current fear. He cast a drying spell on himself, put his shoes back on, and strolled back to the house. He stood still as he faced the front door, before taking a deep breath.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, Ominis finally summoned the courage to open the door and cross the threshold. Stepping into the living room, he was immediately enveloped by a wave of nostalgia and melancholy. The room was a shrine to his aunt's life, filled with her belongings and memories that seemed to echo with her presence.

Ominis put his wand away in his pocket and moved forward, holding his hands out in front of him to avoid bumping into furniture, as he used to do when he was only a young child.

First, he came into contact with the worn armchair by the fireplace, where she would sit and read late into the night. watch him, while she lent him her wand and taught him the spell that allowed him to see the outline of the objects surrounding him (the one he still used to this day). It was the first time he had really discovered the world, and it was entirely thanks to her. It was she who had created the spell. Just for him.

And it certainly was not the only time that Ominis had felt such gratitude towards his aunt, for not far away there was a library full of books written in Braille. It was Noctua who had taught him to read in the same way as blind Muggles, because it was essential to her that her nephew should be able to acquire an education from a very young age.

As he moved through the room, Ominis ran his fingers over the familiar objects placed on the shelves. Only souvenirs that Noctua had brought back from her various expeditions to the four corners of the Earth, and which she took great pleasure in recounting to her nephew afterwards to lull him to sleep at night.

Every object held a story, a piece of his aunt's past that she had carefully preserved… but he knew that not everything was there. His aunt's research was missing.

He knew he would find it in her study, which happened to be the room Ominis dreaded the most, out of fear it would bring back too many memories and shatter his heart with grief all over again. Still, he climbed the stairs to go there, and a sense of unease settled in his chest. The weight of anticipation mingled with apprehension, each step a reminder of the memories waiting for him behind the door.

With a trembling hand, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, the air heavy with the scent of old books and dried herbs. The room felt frozen in time, untouched since his aunt's passing, a silent witness to her tireless pursuit of knowledge and understanding.

Instinctively, his hands reached out for her desk. To his greatest surprise, he felt parchment under his fingertips. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, he reached out and picked it up, his heart pounding in his chest.

He unfolded what appeared to be a letter, and took out his wand, guiding its tip along the lines…

My dearest Ominis, my little boy,

If you are reading this letter, it’s unfortunately because my curiosity and my research into Salazar Slytherin have gotten the best of me. I have always been fascinated by the history of our ancestors, but I fear that this time, my enthusiasm for the past has led me a bit too far.

I am writing these words to you, my dear child, because it is important for me that you know why I have chosen you as my sole and only heir. You might still be young, but your soul carries a wisdom and a purity that I haven’t found in any other member of our family. While many have let themselves be corrupted by greed, pureblood supremacy, or the desire for power, you have always followed your heart, staying true to your moral values and that integrity that so defines you. It is for this reason, and this reason alone, that I know my belongings and my research, but also my hopes and dreams for a better future, could not be in better hands than yours.

I fondly remember all the moments we have shared. Your first steps into the world of magic, your eyes wide with wonder when you finally saw how the world was shaped. You were so wise, so shy, and yet already so determined to do what is right. Your tenacity, even when faced with the greatest challenges, has always impressed me. You were that little boy with a stubborn temperament, the one who refused to be walked over, all while maintaining a softness and kindness that made you so special in my eyes.

Today, as I write these lines, my heart is heavy at the thought of not being able to meet the handsome young man, wise, intelligent, and accomplished that you surely have become. I have no doubt that you have grown to become an exceptional person, upholding the values we have shared and that I have tried to teach you.

My last advice to you, my dear nephew, is to never lose sight of who you truly are. You are a Gaunt, and you have strong convictions and a heart of gold. So, yes, you are a Gaunt, but it does not necessarily have to be a fatality. Stay true to yourself and show the world that not all descendants of Slytherin need to be feared.

Take care of yourself, my child, and always remember that you have within you the strength and wisdom to change the world.

With all my love,

Your aunt who loves you the most.

Ominis's tears flowed uncontrollably, falling onto his hands. He put the letter down for fear of soaking it and destroying one of the only things he had left of his beloved aunt.

Despite his deep sorrow, Ominis was suddenly overcome by an unshakeable determination. He vowed to himself to carry on his aunt's legacy. Armed with her research and her unwavering belief in him, he knew that he could face whatever trials awaited him. He felt a deep sense of connection to her, as if she were still there, guiding him with her love and her wisdom through this new chapter of his life… even from above.

She was the one who had shown him the world... so he was going to give his heart and soul to making it a little more like she had dreamt.

“You can count on me, Aunt Noctua… I’ll do it for you. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

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