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kennarose1108 · 4 months

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My World (Negan Smith x Reader !DAUGHTER OF RICK) !PART 4!

It was the middle of the night and you had left the room while Negan was sleeping to get something to drink as your throat was abnormally dry and you didn't feel like waiting Negan up to escort you just to get a glass of water. You were walking down the hall groggily, a yawn escaping your lips as your gaze was on the floor. But as you turned a corner your gaze fell upon a pair of shoes at the end of the hall. You slowly looked up and furrowed your eyebrows as you saw a unfamiliar woman with a gun in her hand.

You froze in place and stared at her with a look of confusion. She stared back, her eyes wide before he aimed her gun at you. You gasped loudly before she began to shoot. You were able to duck yourself behind the wall at the corner before any real damage was done.

But you fell to the ground and shrieked in pain as you felt a searing pain in your left shoulder. Your hand went up and you immediately felt a wet feeling seeping through your fingers. You turned your head and saw blood staining your shirt and hand crimson red. Your eyes were wide and horrified as you had never bled so much.

But you were quickly brought back to reality as you heard her footsteps walking down the hall and to your direction. You quickly stumbled onto your feet and began running down the hall. When the footsteps stopped the shooting began again. You were ducking and moving erratically as bullets flew by you. You ran past another corner and when you did you saw a bunch of men running past you with guns. You turned your head but when they looked past the corner you watched as their bodies fell to the floor before they could even aim. You screamed and continued running as fast as you could.

As you were running you pushed through a door and continued to run. The sounds of multiple firing behind you went further and further away. Your adrenaline was taking over as you ran and you barely acknowledged where you were going, you were just running... All up until you bumped into somebody. You gasped and stumbled back and the person grabbed your uninjured shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?! Why are you out here?!" The person hisses and you recognized the voice... It was Simon. You stared up at him with wide eyes and you were unable to speak. Simon gently pinched the hole on your shirt where your wound is to examine it. "I'll take you to the infirmary." Simon says as he gently grabs your upper arm and begins pulling you away. You still heard the sound of shooting but it was far away now.

You turned your head, afraid that the shooter would appear behind you. "You're safe. We have men on the shooter as we speak. They should take them down soon." Simon says. He was right. After about another minute or two the sound of gunfire stopped.

Simon pulled you into the infirmary and Dr Carson looked at the two of you. "Get her stitched up." Simon says while forcing me to sit down on the exam table. Dr Carson's eyes widened when he saw me, knowing how serious this was because of who I was. He nodded and quickly began getting out his surgical tools.

"I'll go and inform Negan." Simon says to you. You look at him nervously before nodding. You knew you were in deep shit. Simon then left the room.

After about thirty minutes Dr Carson was finished stitching up your wound. Luckily there was an exit wound so it was a simple procedure. But your shirt was drenched in blood. Dr Carson had to cut some parts of it so he could wrap a bandage around your wounded shoulder but just enough to give him access to the parts of your shoulders he needed to wrap up but enough to keep you covered as well.

"How are you feeling?" Dr Carson asks. "...Woozy." You say. Not to mention it hurt like hell. Once the adrenaline wore off in your body you were left with a searing pain in your shoulder and it was even more agonizing when he stitched it up. Since it was the apocalypse he didn't have drugs on hand to make it any less painful so you had to sit there and deal with the pain.

"That's common. You'll be alright as long as you keep the stitches clean. Here, I'll help you up." Dr Carson says while holding out his hand for you. You take his hand and he helps you off the examination table. "Thank you." You say softly. Just as he was about to respond the door to the infirmary burst open to show Negan in a rage. In a blink of an eye, he was in front of you and grabbing your wrists a little too harshly for your liking.

"What is wrong with you?! Do you have a death wish or something?!" Negan hisses, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes widen, "Negan I-" He interrupts you. "I wake up to the sound of gunfire. You're gone, I get worried and Simon comes to me and tells me you've been shot." Negan says while shaking you a bit. "Do you understand how terrified I was?! I thought you were dead! You're goddamn lucky it was only your shoulder!" Negan shouts.

"Why the hell were you out?! Why didn't you wake me up?!" Negan growls. You stare at him wide-eyed momentarily before speaking up, "I-I... I just wanted some water..." You say in a low tone of voice. "Water? That's it? You got shot for water?" Negan says in a rough and angry tone of voice. You looked down at the ground and frowned. "I'm sorry..." You mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. Negan looks down at you before sighing deeply. He looks off to the side and he seems lost in thought. He then looks back at you before grabbing the back of your head and pulling it to his chest. He sighs against you as he holds you tight.

"I coulda lost you..." He kissed your head and took in your scent, "I've never been so scared in my entire life..." He mutters, just barely enough for you to hear it before he pulls you into a very tight hug. You hug him back but it doesn't take long for your shoulder to throb from the pain of being against something.

You let out a hiss before pulling back and rubbing your shoulder gently. Negan gave you a pitiful but also angry look. "Let's go. I'm bringing you back to bed." Negan says while grabbing your other shoulder and pulling you along with him. You both walked to your room, his hand gently on your shoulder as you walked. You didn't speak, neither did he. There wasn't much to say. He said enough.

When you got back to your bedroom he ushered you inside and got you into bed. "I have to do some damage control... I'm going to have somebody at the door. But I'll be back. I promise." He says. You nodded and he kissed your head before leaving.

You slept. All you did was sleep. Your mind and body were exhausted so all you did... Was sleep. But then you woke up, god knows when to Negan shuffling around the room and gathering things. You sit up and wince as your shoulder doesn't feel any better. Negan hears you rustling around in bed and he turns around and smiles at you. "Hey there darlin'. He says while walking towards you and sitting down on the bed next to you. "How do you feel?" He asks.

"Sore..." You answer while rubbing your shoulder gently. He nodded, "I figured..." He murmured while brushing some of your hair behind your ear. You noticed he was wearing his whole getup and had a gun in his holster and Lucille was leaning against the wall next to the door. "Where are you going...?" You asked. Negan stared at you for a minute before looking away and clicking his tongue. "To see Rick and his people," Negan says. You furrow your eyebrows. "I'm coming." You say. "The hell you are," Negan says right after you finish speaking and he looks at you.

"Why can't I come?" You ask. "Because what we're doing is not pretty sweetheart." He says. Your breathing gets shallow, "...What are you going to do?" You ask in a low tone of voice. He swallows hard and sighs, "The one who shot you and killed a bunch of my men was from Rick's group. I've also gotten intel that Rick has been grouping up with people and teaming up against us. So... I'm just going there to negotiate." Negan says.

"'Negotiate'? What the hell does that mean?" You ask as you feel like you already know what he means. He stares at you. Just fucking stares. "Negan!" You say a bit too loudly. He sighs, "We're going to give them an option. Either they submit to us or we kill them all." Your eyes widened as you process this information.

"Negan... Y-You can't! You'd be killing my family!" You shouted. "I'm your family." He says. "Yes... You are. But my dad and brother are also a part of my family!" You say with anger in your voice. "Well, they shouldn't have screwed me over," Negan says while standing up. "Negan, don't do this... Please. I'm begging you." You say while grabbing his wrist to stop him from leaving.

He stared down at you. You could tell he was conflicted on doing what he thought was right and his love for you.

"Please... I just got them back..." You say just above a whisper. He stared at you for another second before turning his head away and sighing deeply. "I'm sorry." He then pulled his wrist out of your grip and quickly walked to the door. "NEGAN NO!" You screamed while shooting up out of bed but by the time you got to the door he had already slammed it shut and locked it from the outside.

You banged on the door and screamed for him to let you out. You shook the doorknob but nothing worked. Tears rolled down your cheeks in grief and frustration and your body shook with fury.

You tried everything over the last half an hour. You tried to use something in the room to break down the door but all that left you was the person guarding your door to yell at you to quit it. You checked the window and saw you were too high up. You would definitely twist or break your ankle if you dropped down.

But what choice did you have?

You opened the window and sat on the edge of the window. You took deep breaths as you encouraged yourself to do this. You took one last breath before throwing yourself out the window... And just as expected... You twisted your ankle. You let out a cry of pain on impact which most likely alerted the person outside your door, so you had to be quick.

You quickly got to your feet and you began to hurriedly limp yourself to the nearest car. You got into the car and quickly began to hotwire it... When you were a teenager you hung around the wrong crowd and luckily learned to hotwire a car.

When you finally got the car started that's when you noticed the person guarding your door running outside and calling for you. You quickly put the car into drive and got out of there with the person chasing after the car before giving up and running back inside.

You hauled ass over there and by the time you got there, there was gunfire and people dead. Your breath hitched as the gunfire stopped... But the Saviors were still standing.

"No..." You murmured before getting out of the car. The Saviors pointed their guns at you before realizing who you were and lowering their guns. You limped around the town until you see a sight that shook you to your core....

Your father was on his knees, as was Carl... And Negan was about to swing his bat to the back of Carl's head. "NOO!' You shrieked which made Negan stop in place and look at you with a face of horror... You both just stared at each other with looks of horror on your faces. ...How could he? He knew how much Carl meant to you... How much they both meant to you.

But then suddenly a tiger came out of nowhere and killed one of Negan's men. Gunfire arose and you quickly ducked and hid behind a car. Your breathing was heavy and tears pricked your vision.

But now was not the time to cry.

One of the Saviors dropped dead next to you and you let out a scream as blood splattered onto your face. But then you noticed he had a gun... And you remembered your father teaching you how to use a pistol when you grew up. So you grabbed the gun for protection but you didn't dare aim it at anyone.

Gunfire flew past you and almost hit you. You realized this wasn't the best place to hide so you got up and began to quickly limp away but that was when someone grabbed you and lifted you up which made you drop your gun. You screamed, kicked, and flailed around. The person holding you hissed and said, "Stop it!" And you realized it was Negan which made you freak out even more.

You began to punch his arm but he didn't flinch or release his grip on you. He just carried you to a truck, threw you into the back of it, and slammed the door shut. You tried to get out but he locked it... This son of a bitch and locking you out...

The car began to drive and that's when the tears finally fell. You sniffled and cried yourself into a ball... Did you feel weak? Yes. But at least Carl and your father were safe... You hoped.

The car came to a stop and a few of Negan's men came and grabbed you. You continued your screaming, flailing, and spitting while they carried you into a cell. They threw you inside and locked the door. You sat on the floor and continued to cry. Your ankle and shoulder throbbed and your heart ached with grief...

How could he...?

Hours passed and finally, the door opened. You didn't look up, you knew who it was.

The silence was deafening.

Finally he spoke.

"I did what I had to do." He spoke in a low voice. You didn't say a word, you just glared at the ground with tears in your eyes. "Y/N... We have rules... You have to understand that." He says. You wanted to yell and scream but your voice ached and you just didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

He let out a sigh before turning and taking a step and you finally spoke, "I'll never forgive you for this." You say while glaring up at his back.

He turned his head slightly to the side to glance at you from over his shoulder. You could see the pain on his face.

"I can live with that." He says.

He then finally walked out and shut the door, leaving you in darkness with your thoughts...

PART 5?

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zepskies · 1 year

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Break Me Down - Part 13

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 6,500 Tags/Warnings: Peril, hurt/comfort, angst, and a deal…

Part 13: A Generous Deal

Frank, Ben’s former henchman, gave you a quirking smile.

Beside him was Loco, who tossed you a wink. He carried a semi-automatic weapon in his hands.

“You look good, corazón,” Loco said, reaching for your sister. “Let’s get you guys out of here, no?”

“Who the hell is trying to kill us?” Louisa said, accepting his hand after you guided her up from the ground. Frank covered you all while firing back at the shooters.

Loco snorted in amusement. “Vought. Who else?”

“Jesus, fuck,” you muttered. “What do they want with me? It’s Ben they were after.”

“Who’s Ben?” Louisa asked. Meanwhile, Loco guided you both out of the apartment and down the stairs. Frank covered you guys from the back as he followed.

“El capitán, Soldier Boy,” Loco supplied as he pointed to himself and Frank with his gun, “Our boss.”

“Soldier Boy?!” Louisa shot you an incredulous look. You gave her a wan smile before you glared at Loco, pointing his gun away.

“Watch where you aim that thing,” you reminded him. Loco just scoffed. He covered you when you stepped out of the apartment building, leading you to a black SUV parked illegally on the side of the road.

Right now, you were grateful for that as bullets seemed to rain down from everywhere. But with Frank and Loco’s expertise, the four of you made it into the car. Frank was your chauffer, and he sped off down the street.

“How the hell are you alive?” you asked Frank. “You were shot point blank in the chest.”

“Was wearing Kevlar,” he said. “And I was on V24.”

“So he fucked those mall cops in the ass with hot lead and broke me out of prison,” Loco supplied, shooting you a grin.

You smiled back at him, but when you looked over at your sister, gripping the inside of the car door for dear life with petrified eyes, you grabbed her hand to steady her.

You turned back to Frank. “We need to pick up my mom. If they’re after me too, then she’s not safe.”

“Where?” he asked. You gave him the address of the hospital where your mother worked. Frank turned a corner sharply in order to change course, making you grip the car handle yourself.

“Jesus, Frank. Go a little smoother on the wheels, yeah?” Loco quipped.

“You want a nice kiddy ride, or you want to get there alive?” Frank retorted. “We’ve got a narrow window, even less now that we’ve got a second stop.”

“It’s not that far. Lower West Side,” you said. And you continued to instruct him through the New York traffic. He was an adept driver, but he wasn’t a New Yorker. You pointed out the best roads to take to get there within half an hour.

Loco stayed with Louisa in the car (albeit, first with a lot of reassuring that she would be safe with this perfect stranger that she could only suspect was a criminal).

Frank escorted you inside, where you found your mom at the reception desk (thankfully) on the first floor. Her eyes lit up when she saw you.

“Oh my God, you’re back! How are you, sweetheart? Oh, come here,” your mother said, getting up from her desk to pull you into a hug. You accepted it with a smile, but you grabbed her shoulders firmly and made her see the sense of urgency in your eyes.

“Mom, I need you to come with me,” you said in hushed tones. She looked around, from you to her confused coworker at the desk beside her.

“What? Honey, I can’t. I’m at work—”

“Now, Mom. I’ll explain later.”

“Marie, you going on lunch break?” asked her coworker.

“Yep, I’m taking her out,” you supplied, looping your mother’s arm with yours. “Come on! I found this cute little French bistro a few blocks away.”

“Honey,” your mom tried to whisper. She didn’t like the look of Frank hovering beside you. He was a tall man, broad and wearing a long black trench coat—and a gun concealed within.

“Just trust me,” you told her, gripping her hand tight.

Somehow you made it to the car without incident. But once the five of you were on the road, with all three women squished in the backseat, Louisa turned to you.

“So you’re actually helping Soldier Boy now?” she asked, and with a sly raise of her brow, “Or should I say Ben?”

Your face began to heat up, but you clung to your stoicism.

“Soldier Boy,” Marie gasped. “Didn’t he kill Homelander?”

“May that prick get fucked in the ass for all eternity in hell,” you muttered. Once again, your mother gasped.

“Young lady. I don’t like that,” she said, with all due side eye.

“You don’t like anything, Mother,” you quipped.

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to arrest him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh.

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.”

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.”

Louisa uttered an incredulous laugh while simultaneously freaking the fuck out, especially at the word captured.

“Excuse me?” said Marie. You gave the man a withering look.

“Don’t help me, Frank.”

An amused smile tugged at his lips. But then it was wiped away.

“Incoming. Three tails,” he said. Loco looked in the side mirror, and his muttered curse was a confirmation: they were being followed.

“Where are we headed?” you asked.

“Supe Affairs,” Frank said. He took evasive measures, banking on corners and doing his best to beat the cars tailing them through traffic.

Until the mid-size SUV was side swiped by an even larger black one. It slammed into your side of the car, making it spin out. You all screamed as the car flipped over once and managed to land.

You had to blink drops of blood out of your double vision, but when it cleared, you saw Black Noir had landed on the hood of the car. Your eyes widened.

Noir raised his gun and shot through the windshield, but while Loco shot right back at him, Frank put the car into reverse—into the path of a coming bus.

He actually sped towards it. And at the last moment, he sharply turned the car to try and fling the supe off the hood.

It worked, somewhat. Noir was forced to stop the bus from hitting him directly, causing the front of the bus to fold up like an accordion against his hands. And while he was distracted, Loco threw a projectile at the supe’s face.

Noir caught it with ease, but he didn’t expect the way it erupted with nerve gas in his face. Before it could affect the normal humans in the car, Frank reversed again and finally managed to dislodge the supe.

He turned the car around and was able to get the car back into Drive, but the entire windshield was gone, and breathing felt like agony once again. If you had to guess, it was your broken ribs flaring up after the initial impact.

Your shoulder also ached like a bitch. You didn’t think it was dislocated, but at the very least, severely bruised.

Not broken, at least, you thought bitterly.

“Oh my God. You okay?” Louisa asked, gasping once she looked over and saw you clutching your arm.

You could also feel blood dripping over your brow and down the side of your face. Your mom also had a knock to the side of her head, but she and Louisa looked more or less fine, if scared out of their minds.

“I’m okay,” you said, giving them a reassuring smile. You directed it at Frank next, when he glanced back at you with concern.

You fished into your pocket and found your cell phone unscathed. Letting out a relieved breath, you found Grace Mallory’s personal cell in your contacts and started the call.

She picked up on the third ring.

“Who is this?”

“Grace, it’s me. I—”

“How did you get this number?” she asked.

“Stole it from M.M.’s phone,” you replied impatiently. “Listen, I have a situation—”

“You’re already on thin ice,” she said. “This better be fucking good.”

At that, the narrow thread of your temper snapped.

“I’m playing bumper cars with Black Noir in the Lower West Side. How’s that for fucking good?” you said, raising your voice. “He’s trying to kill me and my entire family. I need your help, right now!”

A beat of silence, and Grace replied.

“Understood. What are the cross streets?”

“We’re in a black SUV,” you replied, and you gave her the closest streets as they passed by. “We’re heading toward the S.A.”

“Backup will arrive shortly,” she said. Then she hung up on you.

It was a good thing too, because you lost your grip on your cell when another car bumped into the SUV, this time from the driver’s side. Your eyes widened as you saw Black Noir again, this time with a grenade launcher.

“Heads down!” you screamed, reaching for your sister.

Just as he would’ve shot at the car, a helicopter flew overhead and shot directly at the supe. CIA units swarmed in in various cars, and it allowed Frank the distraction he needed to slip away from the supe.

Frank and Loco escorted your family to the double doors of the Supe Affairs building. You hung back real quick once they were inside, knowing the men couldn’t go in. They would likely be apprehended.

“Thank you,” you told them. Emotion made your eyes glassy. Loco gave you a smile and rubbed your non-injured shoulder.

“Just get yourself checked out,” Frank said. He gave you a scrap of paper with two cell phone numbers on it.

“Reach us here if anything changes,” he said. With Soldier Boy, his tone implied. You nodded and took the numbers from him. Loco left to start up the car, but you grabbed Frank’s arm, holding him back a minute.

“Why’d you come find me?” you asked. “You guys…didn’t owe me anything. You don’t even owe Ben.”

“He does technically owe us,” Frank said.

You nodded at that. “Well, you could just cut your losses…is it that good a payout?”

His dry smile told you yes, it would be that good.

“But that doesn’t explain me,” you pointed out.

Frank considered you, as if contemplating the reason himself.

“We knew if Soldier Boy was going to break out, it would be because of you,” he said. “We happened to be watching you when we saw Black Noir casing your building.”

“Doesn’t totally explain why you’d risk your lives for me,” you said.

Frank seemed uncomfortable with the question. So you let him off the hook with a smile.

“Thank you. Again,” you said. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

His lips curved at that. “Me too, kid.”

You ushered your mom and sister through the S.A. building, ignoring the odd and concerned looks from people going about their workday.

You knew the three of you made quite a sight, especially when your face was literally dripping blood, and your arm was pinned to your side.

You noticed Butcher striding down the hall with M.M., and you called out to him loudly.

“Still think Black Noir isn’t a fucking priority?” you shouted.

Both men noticed you in surprise, but while Butcher was mostly curious, M.M. was concerned. You then ignored them and started guiding your family up to Grace’s office.

As it turned out, you didn’t have to. She stepped off the elevator and led the three of you into a private office. She had already requested an on-call doctor for you, and he was there waiting with his supplies.

Marie helped you into a chair, where you let out a shaky breath. The doctor came over to check your shoulder, during which Marie stroked your good arm and Luisa brushed your sweaty hair from your face.

“Not broken or dislocated,” he confirmed. “Just bruised. You’ll need to ice it for a few days.”

“What happened?” Grace asked at last. You met her blue-eyed gaze.

“I told you. Black Noir tried to kill us. I assume I was the target, because he found me at my apartment,” you said with a wince, rubbing at your aching ribs while the doctor wrapped your arm in a temporary sling. He next worked on blotting and stitching up your head wound, which he remarked was shallower than it seemed.

What you needed were some painkillers.

“I want my mom and my sister placed in protective custody,” you told Grace.

Both women protested at first.

“What are you going to do?” Luisa asked incredulously. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

“We’ll take care of this,” you tried to reassure her.

“And what about school? I can’t just drop out for God-knows how long.”

“I’ll talk to NYU, get them to let you complete your classes online.”

“What about me? My job isn’t so flexible,” Marie pointed out. You frowned, at a loss for what to say. Your guilt was growing by the moment; not only had your family been put in danger because of you, but their lives were about to be completely uprooted.

“We’ll work it out with your employer as well,” Grace said.

You gave her an appreciative look. Grace could be a bitch, but it seemed she wasn’t a complete asshole.

When you turned back to your family, hot tears welled up in your eyes and slid down your cheeks unbidden.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked on a sob. “This is on me.”

Luisa tearfully shook her head, holding your hand. Your mom was in a similar state as she wiped your tears away.

“I just want you to be safe,” Marie said. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

You nodded, but you couldn’t force yourself to lie to her this time.

In a few hours, you saw your mother and sister off as Grace directed them into protective custody. They would be taken to a safe house tonight, and would remain there until the matter of Black Noir was settled.

You were exhausted, in pain, and emotionally spent, and you were going to need a safe house of your own. But you agreed to spend the night here at the S.A. building, where there were cots available upstairs for when supes where occasionally held overnight.

You debated the idea growing your mind, whether it would be good for you in this moment…

But you couldn’t help yourself.

You had to see him.

Your steps were slow, but you eventually made it to the “cellar.”

The guards raised their brows at the state of you, still with dried blood, bruises, and your arm in a temporary sling. Your hard gaze warned them to mind their fucking business.

“Open it up,” you said, raising an expectant brow. After glancing at one another, one of the guards shrugged. He pressed the button to disengage the outer walls, which parted for your entry.

You stepped inside, this time grateful for the way those walls closed behind you. You knew the guards would be watching regardless, but the semblance of privacy was enough for you.

Ben was sitting up in his cot, back against the wall with his arms crossed. The stance was familiar to you; he was probably awake, but trying not to fall asleep due to the nerve gas making him drowsy.

His eyes opened when he heard you coming. His mouth opened, poised to be snarky, until he actually caught sight of you. Whatever acidic words he’d been about to say died on his tongue as he took in your injuries, from stitched and bandaged head to your arm in a sling.

He got up and approached you, until only the glass separated you two by a few feet.

“What the fuck happened?” he asked. His voice was gruff, but you thought you detected concern behind his green eyes.

“Black Noir,” you rasped.

You explained to him what happened from the very beginning. Your sister showing up at your apartment, followed by Noir shooting at you, then Frank and Loco showing up to extract you from the building.

“Those fuckers are still alive?” Ben noted with surprise. You could see that he was pleased by the news, and you smiled.

“Yeah, they saved me,” you admitted. But then, your lips trembled. “Black Noir tried to take me out. Me and my whole family.”

Ben watched you tear up, his jaw tightening. The fury lighting in his blood gave him new energy as he contemplated just how slowly and painfully he’d take Stan Edgar apart for this. He had no right to sick that damn bootlicker on you.

And probably just to get to him.

Ben began to pace. He had no other way to vent his frustration, other than hurling up his cot against the wall with a guttural sound of rage. (Which he did, not seeing how it made you flinch.)

He was in this cage, and meanwhile, you were out there. Unprotected. Taking bullets that should be his…and his alone.

He wiped a hand over his mouth and looked back at you. You were wide-eyed, vulnerable, not sure what to make of his reaction.

Ben wanted to continue blaming you for his imprisonment…but deep down, he knew you weren’t the one who put him here. He also knew why you wouldn’t break him out either.

You were stubborn about your convictions—something that frustrated him to no end. But ultimately, he admired you for how you always held your ground, even against him.

Especially against him.

But right now, you looked exhausted, in pain. He just couldn’t do anything about it. And that irritated him, he discovered.

“Did your dad order the hit?” he asked. “Stan said he was still alive.”

You tilted your head, like you hadn’t thought of that before. Despite your lingering tears, your expression briefly became cold as stone.

“If my father knew about this, he’s a dead man,” you said.

Ben inclined his head in agreement. It looked like even you had a limit on what was forgivable.

You sighed and stepped closer to the cell. You implored him, first with your eyes, and then with the truth.

“Ben, I need your help,” you said. “As long as Stan Edgar and Vought still stand, it’s a target on your back. Now it’s on mine too. My mom, and my sister. Please.”

Ben seemed to consider it, as his gaze left your face.

Then, he came up closer to the glass window.

“Call your boss. Tell her it’s time for a talk,” he said.

You sighed in relief, covering your eyes with a hand as your tears fell anew. You looked up at Ben, trying and failing to get ahold of yourself.

“Thank you,” you said.

Ben’s anger crumbled that much more. He sighed and pressed a fist up to the glass on his side to lean against it. You laid a hand against the glass, opposite his.

His eyes met yours. As resentment drained out of him, slowly, his fingers uncurled.

His hand laid on the glass in line with your smaller hand. You could almost pretend the window didn’t exist between you, and the cold glass under your palm was really his. A moment later, Ben let his hand fall and returned to his cot.

Soon, you wanted to tell him.

You would make sure of it.

Grace’s heels clacked on the metal ground as the fortified barriers disengaged, allowing her entrance into the observing area of Soldier Boy’s cell.

The man himself looked up at her from where he sat on his cot, his hair falling over his brows. He straightened and stood, and he met her at the forefront of the cell.

She stopped a foot behind the glass and crossed her arms. Ben’s gaze seized her up lazily—the gray pantsuit and white blouse, the coif of blonde hair piled on her head, the light layer of lipstick across her thin lips. She looked even less fun now than she had in the 80s.

“You’ve gotten old as fuck,” he remarked.

“As I hear it, a few wrinkles don’t bother you in the slightest,” she countered.

His lips curved. He’d never fuck this broad on mere principle, but she was still easy on those baby blues.

“So,” she began, “Two options. One: you can sleep in here forever, until you look as old as I am. Or two: you’ll work with my team to bring down Vought, on our terms. Which means executing approved targets only. Collateral damage kept to a narrow minimum.”

Her gaze was unyielding, clinical at best.

“Operate within the confines of the law. And if by some miracle you pull all of that off…you can publicly retire to South America, never to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said.

“We will leave you alone, provided you don’t actively create havoc. And if you deviate from the plan in any way, we will hunt you down and bring you right back here. You will never know peace.”

Ben stared at her, almost amused at her audacity. “That’s your idea of a goddamn deal?”

She ignored him, her expression turning thoughtful.

“Oh, yes,” Grace said, a finger tapping on her arm, as if she just remembered something. She mentioned your name, making Ben’s brows furrow.

“Should you fuck up your end of this generous deal, I will also personally make sure that you never see her again,” she said.

Ben’s jaw tensed, his green eyes narrowing a fraction.

But he figured his best play here was to bluff.

“What makes you think I give a flying fuck about that?” he said snidely.

For the first time, a bit of humor lightened Grace as her mouth tugged at a smile.

“Actually, it seems you do. And a great deal of one,” she said. “That you’re considering this agreement at all is because of her.”

Ben’s lips pressed together.

“The fact of the matter is, Benjamin, I can make her disappear,” she stated, “even more thoroughly than I’ll bury you if you cross me.”

That threat nearly unhinged him. A vein pulsed in his neck as he ground his teeth.

But he managed to keep his cool, smooth as he crossed his arms and stared back at this platinum-haired bitch.

“See, you can talk big behind that glass. But the truth is, you need me,” he said. “All you bitches do. And you’re all afraid of me. So if you want to threaten me, by all means…just don’t forget who the fuck I am.”

M.M. carefully watched the archive footage from yesterday between you and Ben from his laptop. He saw the shift in the supe when you walked in, battered with your arm in a temporary sling. M.M. watched the man’s anger build, but for you instead of at you.

By the time he made it to the end, watching Ben’s hand meet yours on his side of the glass, M.M. sat back in his seat and frowned, resting his chin in his hand. What the hell…

Maybe Soldier Boy did give a fuck about someone other than himself.

M.M.’s phone buzzed, breaking him out of his reverie. It was Grace.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Team meeting,” she said, instructing him to head up to a conference room on the third floor in ten minutes. Sighing, M.M. closed his laptop and made his way up.

Annie and Hughie were already there, followed by Frenchie and Kimiko, and finally Butcher, strolling in to make his entrance as always.

You were the only one not in attendance, having gone back to full-time in the Surveillance department. Though considering what happened yesterday with Black Noir, he was surprised you weren’t here…

But once Grace started the meeting, explaining what had become of her meeting with Soldier Boy, M.M.’s already precarious mood darkened even further.

“It’s an insane fucking deal,” Butcher agreed, breaking the steely silence of the room following Grace’s little report. “But it’s one we’ve made before.”

“You’ve made before,” Annie retorted. “This is crazy. We can’t trust Soldier Boy.”

“But we all know who does,” M.M. said. His gaze shifted to the door, where you had just stepped in. It seemed you were invited to the meeting after all.

You were late, quite literally holding Starbucks. It looked like a caramel macchiato, iced, light froth. You sipped it through a green straw and took a seat beside Frenchie, who offered you a smile as he smoked a cigarette. You returned it before you addressed the group.

“Take my personal stake out of the equation,” you said.

“So you admit it’s personal,” M.M. remarked. You shot him a glance, but you didn’t let him deter you from your point.

“Ben is our best play against Black Noir. That’s just a fact,” you said. “He was cloned in part with Homelander’s DNA.”

“Okay, sure,” Hughie said. “Despite all the…potential logistics problems there, what about Stan Edgar? He’s been one step ahead of us this entire time.”

That was a fair point, one you acknowledged with a nod.

“I think we should look into Victoria Neuman. She turned on Stan once to protect herself, who’s to say she won’t again?” you said.

“Or, she’ll pop our heads like water balloons,” Frenchie pointed out, letting out a puff of his cigarette. Hughie frowned and waved his hand across the plume.

“Do you have to do that right in my face?” he asked. Frenchie blew a kiss (and a small ring of smoke) at Hughie with a playful smirk.

Again, you smiled. “Ben can help with that too.”

Most of them didn’t like the idea. Annie and Kimiko frowned, while Hughie looked unsure. Frenchie might’ve been persuaded…

Butcher actually seemed to agree with you, shockingly. He looked over at M.M., whose stance in all this was obvious.

“You wanna make things safe for your daughter, taking out Vought is fucking it,” Butcher said. It wasn’t what you expected him to say…but maybe the men had had this argument before.

M.M. was tense, his hand clenching into a fist on the conference table.

“You don’t have to tell me that shit,” M.M. said tersely. He looked up at Mallory. “I’m assuming as a part of this fuck-ass deal, Soldier Boy walks free after all this is said and done?”

Grace confirmed this with a short nod, though you could see she wasn’t happy about it either.

“After the work is done, he won’t be allowed to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said.

You frowned, upset at that little footnote, but you held in your reaction as you watched M.M. rise out of his seat, his chair roughly sliding against the ground. He dented the table with a heavy fist as he strode out of the conference room.

Ben rolled his eyes as he took the contract. It had been laid on the tray compartment where his meals were usually slotted through.

You, Grace, and Butcher stood on the other side of his cell. You also thought the contract was stupid; you all knew if Ben didn’t comply with this arrangement, a measly piece of paper wasn’t going to do shit. But Mallory was nothing if not thorough.

He signed it with the pen and shoved both back through the slot. Mallory collected it and turned at Butcher, and then you with her sharp eyes.

“On your head be it,” she said. Then she departed the cell, where the additional fortifying walls were left open. With a raised brow, Butcher signaled to the guards to cut the nerve gas.

Once the mist cleared from the inner cell, Ben took his first real breath in a week. He blinked as the heavy fog he’d been resisting for days cleared, and he stood straighter. His green eyes were on you as the cell finally disengaged, sliding open with a hiss.

You bit your lower lip as he stepped through barefooted. He still wore the clinically white clothing the S.A. provided, like he was the inmate of a psych ward or something. He eyed Butcher warily.

“Ello, gov. Back in business again,” said the Brit. Ben rolled his eyes.

“Just stay out of my fucking way,” he replied.

You wanted to pull him into your arms already. But professionalism be damned, you didn’t want to show your vulnerability around Butcher.

Instead, you held up a plastic bag of clothes and shoes for him to change into, meeting him with a smile. The tightness in his face eased a bit when he glanced over at you, then took the bag with a nod.

“Hungry?” you asked.

Ben’s lips curved into a smirk. “I could eat.”

You felt heat flare in your face as your mouth dropped open slightly.

Butcher rose a brow as he glanced between you two. He chose to ignore the supe’s blatant eye-fucking. He just wanted to get this over with.

“First off, let’s get something squared away,” Butcher said.

He then turned his head and released a wet cough that didn’t sound pleasant. The man also looked pale, and if you thought about it, he hadn’t been looking well in the meeting earlier either. You gave him a concerned frown.

“You okay?” you asked. Butcher gave you a side glance.

“Fucking phenomenal. Here.”

He provided Ben with an S.A.-issued cell phone, and you with the address of a safe house.

“His and hers,” Butcher said, handing you the keys. You understood his meaning; since Black Noir was after you as well, it made enough sense to put you and Ben in the same safe house.

“Now, lest you think of pulling another Houdini act, it won’t hurt to remind you that you will be watched,” he said to both of you (but mainly Ben). “I myself, along with other agents, will be checking in from time to time, making sure everything’s on the up and up.”

“Whatever, are we fucking done?” Ben snapped with impatience. He started walking out of the cellar, towards the open door that showed the brighter lit hallway. Once he stepped out though, he wasn’t sure where to go.

You gave Butcher a parting look before you caught up with Ben in the hall. You laid a hand on his arm and led him to the nearest bathroom so he could change while you waited outside. You texted with the agent that would be your driving detail, making sure the car would be ready.

After a few minutes of waiting though, you began to get antsy and impatient yourself. You went to the bathroom door and knocked, opening it a crack.

“Ben, you okay?”

“Yeah. Come in,” he said.

You paused, not sure if that was a good idea. But you also didn’t know why that was your instinctive thought.

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you hesitantly opened the door to the men’s bathroom and stepped inside. Ben was already dressed, just fixing his belt.

He wore a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain black shirt, and some boots. It wasn’t his normal look, but even this suited him well. He stretched out the shirt in all the right places, particularly the arms.

But you blushed as you noticed the smirk on his face; he’d totally caught you checking him out.

“Well, that answers my question,” he remarked.

Your lips flickered at a smile as you drew closer.

Looks good, you were about to tell him, but nothing came out. Your voice got stuck in your throat as you looked up at him. It seemed this moment was finally hitting you.

There was still so much unknown shit on the horizon, between Black Noir, Victoria Neuman, Stan Edgar, your family in protective custody, and all the rest. But at least you had helped accomplish one thing today.

Your eyes stung as they welled up with tears, and you bit your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling.

The smirk on Ben’s face faded. But then his brose rose in surprise as you surged forward and caught him in a hug. Your arms slipped around his middle, and his arms fell around your frame, mostly on instinct.

When he felt your tears dampening his shirt, heard you crying softly, felt the tremble in your body, he collected you tighter against him, his hands splaying across your back. Something in his chest clenched up…but then it eased. He dropped his lips to your hair.

“What’s this now?” he asked, somewhat teasing. You shook your head against his chest, not willing to answer. His hand fell to your waist and gave you a squeeze.

“Come on, baby doll,” he said. He grinned a little, though you couldn’t see it. “Where’s that steely bitch who didn’t cut me any fucking slack this week?”

You choked on a laugh, despite the tears still slipping down your cheeks.

“She’s a good actor,” you replied. Ben chuckled and soothed a hand over your hair. It gave you hope that he didn’t resent you too much. You were just so damn relieved.

“I’m sorry this couldn’t happen sooner,” you whispered. You weren’t sorry for not breaking ranks to get him out, but he had to know you’d never wanted him to go from one cage to another.

Ben’s grin faded. He stayed quiet, unsure of what to say to you.

After a moment, your cell phone chimed and buzzed in your pocket. Sniffling, you pulled away from him enough to reach into your pocket and read the text.

“The driver’s ready to take us to the safe house,” you said, pocketing your phone. But you still clung to his shirt with your other hand. You were also avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed, maybe.

It made him smile. He tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, prompting you to finally look up at him. He then bucked a gentle fist under your chin.

It got a small smile on your face, because you knew then that he didn’t hate you. The rage and contempt he’d levied at you this week, it hadn’t been the real him. This was the man you’d held out for…the man you’d caught glimmers of over the past two months.

Ben cleared his throat.

“Well. You ready, sweetheart?” he asked, raising a brow. You nodded and let go of him, wiping your face to make sure it was dry before you stepped outside.

Once the two of you left the bathroom, you led him out of the S.A. building. The car was waiting, another mid-sized SUV, and the driver transported you both to the safe house, which looked like it was going to be outside the city.

Makes sense, you thought. You turned to Ben, who sat with you in the back.

“How do you feel?” you asked. Still drowsy?

He didn’t look it. The moment the Novichok cleared the cell, he seemed to regain his faculties. Now, you were more concerned about the potential psychological effects. You were worried about how the past week might’ve set him back.

But Ben only gave you a wry curve of his lips.

“Like a million bucks,” he replied. His gaze roamed over you, noting your healing cuts and bruises from the car chase yesterday.

“You’re not wearing the sling,” he commented. You rubbed your bruised shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, downplaying a little.

Pain meds were doing wonders for you though. Frenchie had slipped you some of the “good stuff” this morning, which had the added benefit of chilling you out for hours. You had come off it a while ago, but you had some normal painkillers in your suitcase.

You’d been escorted home to collect some of your things, and the suitcase now laid in the trunk. You felt bad that Ben didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back…but you were sure the CIA would provide other things for him once you two got to the safe house.

Ben surprised you, however, by thumbing an outline around the butterflied cut on your head as he examined it. “Doesn’t look deep.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, blushing a little. “I’m fine, Ben.”

His gaze found yours then, sharp as always. His mouth twitched.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. His voice was a rumble, deep and filled with promise. Your cheeks warmed further as you tilted your head at him.

“What does that mean?” you asked. A smile started to tug at your lips.

Ben just smirked and crossed his arms, facing the road ahead. You eyed him, but a trill of anticipation ran down your spine.

It seemed like a small eternity until you reached the safe house, several miles out into Upstate New York. It was a modest, one-story house in the middle of a gated community.

The outside walls were painted beige with a brown trim. The driveway paved with cobblestone, with a little walkway flanked by small bushes with little red flowers. It was the perfect unassuming place to house the most famous supe alive.

The driver left you with your bags, which Ben grabbed before you could barely reach out your good arm. He flashed you a grin and waited for you to unlock the front door.

“Home sweet home,” you breathed as you stepped past the threshold. Your hands fell to your hips while you surveyed your surroundings.

Behind you, the suitcase and the small duffel bag dropped to the floor. You started to turn towards him, but apparently you weren’t fast enough on the uptake—as Ben hooked an arm around your waist and spun you around.

Before you could even blink, your back was pressed against the door. You’d clung to him on instinct as a gasp fell from your lips. But you looked up into Ben’s smirk, his heated eyes filled with desire, and maybe a flash of relief.

You felt it too. The sweet craving fulfilled of finally being alone, as he claimed you with a kiss. You made a sound of pleasure, of acceptance as your hand rose to his cheek.

Your fingers soon slid into his hair as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss.

Ben braced himself against the door hard enough to shake it on its hinges. It was all you could do to hold onto his arms as his knee pressed between your legs, finding friction against your jeans.

Being with him was a relief, you discovered. And having him inside you was starting to feel like home.

AN: 😏 I know, I'm terrible for ending it there, huh? What did you think of their little reunion here?

Don't worry though, next chapter is the real reunion.

Next Time:

“You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again. Slow, and with purpose.

Ben let out a sigh through his nose. His eyes closed again at your gentler kisses, your touch. Maybe he reveled in this—being able to hold you back. It felt right.

If he was honest with himself (and this time, he was), you were somehow able to ease the frayed edges of his mind. Edges that had been starting to unravel in that cell.

Keep Reading: PART 14

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musei-thoughts · 5 months

Text

𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳. [𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳]

00.

𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙢

(𝘯.) 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

"𝙃𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙪𝙥 𝙍𝙖𝙣! 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮!"

The night pulsed with danger as Rindou's frantic voice cut through the tension, "I'm trying. The road is packed. Damn it."

In a chaotic symphony of adrenaline, Rindou reloaded his pistol. The bullets from the enemy rained down on them, trying to get them off their tail.

"Shit. They have more men?!" Sanzu yelled, dodging the bullets as more cars with shooters began to fire at them.

"Hold on, I'm gonna try to get past these trucks!" Koko paled, seeing the slim chance of the car slipping in between the two trucks ahead of them. "Are you kidding?! There's no way it would fit!!" He screeched, grabbing onto the sides of the car for dear life.

“That’s what she said.” The Haitani’s said in unison.

"If I die I want you to delete my search history for me, bro." Ran muttered, shedding a fake tear.

"HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA DELETE IT IF I DIE TOO?!"

Ran thought for a moment. "Oh well. Then let me confess that I wore your tongs."

"I DON'T HAVE TONGS!" Rindou retaliated.

"I do."

The two Haitanis turned their attention to Sanzu, who was glaring at Ran. "Well, shit. Let's talk about this after we've dealt with these imbeciles."

With that, he focused on the road and sped up. As the trucks got closer, the distance between it grew smaller.

Rindou gripped on his seatbelt while Sanzu hugged Koko’s arm, dialing Takeomi.

"HEY OLD MAN! BEFORE RAN KILLS US I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU I WAS THE REASON YOUR DATE DITCHED YOU IN HIGHSCHOOL! I TOLD HER THAT YOU LIKED FURRIES IN MAID OUTFITS! BYE."

"Why you fucki-"

"ALSO, I'M GRANMA'S FAVORITE GRANDBABY. BYE." He hangs up, hugging Koko's arm tighter when they were only a few feet away from the trucks.

"TELL AKANE I LOVE HER. AND IM SORRY FOR FUCKIN HER BROTHER. I COULDN'T HELP IT, HE LOOKED SO MUCH LIKE HER." Koko added to their pitiful confessions, crying like a bitch.

The three gave him a ‘wtf’ look, "Tell her that yourself when we get there dude." Koko rolled his eyes at them and flipped them off.

The tension escalated as they hurtled toward the narrow gap. Koko, gripping his seatbelt, exchanged a glance with Sanzu, both silently praying for survival. Ran focuses on the road for the umpteenth time, relaxing his shoulders and begins taking deep breaths.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Don't choke on your spit now, Ran.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale-

"*cough cough* w-water...Rin..water..." He choked, struggling to breathe.

He turned around towards Rindou, his eyes pleading. "WHERE THE FUCK WILL I GET WATER?!"

"There's apple juice here." Sanzu said, handing them a bottle of 'apple juice'.

"Thanks." Ran takes a big sip, coughing out as soon as he tasted the bitter taste of the ‘drink’. “oh, wait, it’s gasoline.” Sanzu states after reading the bottle’s label. “My bad.”

Ran wipes his mouth, regaining his composure as they neared the trucks. The Bonten men closes their eyes shut, waiting for the next thing to happen.

"Are we in heaven now?" Sanzu asks, afraid to open his eyes.

"We're criminals Sanzu, what the hell do you mean- RAN DUCK!"

Ran, who stupidly had closed his eyes, opens them and turns the wheel at the last minute, dodging the crossing duck in the nick of time.

"We're alive...." Rindou pants. "WE'RE ALIVE!" He exclaimed, slumping into his seat, relief washing over him. Koko, however, passed out, his face paler than his hair as his soul threatened to leave his body.

Sanzu's maniacal laughter broke the moment, "Fuck...that...turned me on." His adrenaline-fueled amusement clashed with the others' disbelief as he leaned back into his seat, the excitement between his legs in full display.

Rindou gave him a side eye from the rear mirror, "Sanzu, what the actual fuck.”

"Where are those bastards?" Ran whispered under his breath, unable to detect the rival gang’s vehicles. "Those fuckers got lucky."

"WE CAN'T STOP NOW! THEY HAVE MY DRUGS!" Sanzu whined, pulling on his hair out of irritation.

They have been chasing this white BMW for almost an hour now, the men behind it were a new and uprising gang called Sigma. They decided to blow a low move and stole samples of a special drug that was personally made for Bonten along with other drugs like Methamphetamine.

Koko soon regains consciousness, holding his head in his hand while leaning on the driver's seat. "I'm gonna throw up."

Ran looked back, noticing Koko's pale face. He quickly grabbed a plastic bag from the glovebox, gave it to the poor male before his phone out of his jacket pocket and called Kakucho.

After some shuffling, Kakucho came through the line. "Hey Ran, what's up? Where are you?"

"We found those damn bastards but they got away." Ran explained.

The male on the other line let out a sigh, "Where are you guys?"

"Near the city limits. We lost sight of it awhile ago but there's still a good chance that they’re still around."

There was shuffling again and then Kakucho finally spoke up. "I'll do what I can. For now, get back to HQ. Mikey wants you back."

"Got it." Ran hung up, leaving the car in silence, except for Koko who was puking his stomach out. Poor guy.

Now, they were stuck in traffic. It was also getting dark as the street lamps slowly began to light up. A car behind them honks at them, trying to make them move. Rindou angrily glared over at the car, flipping them off.

"Can't they fucking see that we're in the middle of a traffic?"

The line of cars moved slowly, boring the four men out of their wits. Koko was passed out once more in the back, hoping that he could sleep the nausea off.

They all stared at the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of any sign of movement.

But no.

They were stuck.

Out of boredom, Rindou played DDLC on his phone while Sanzu was getting high from the remaining pills that he had on hand, thinking of different ways on how he could torture those men from Sigma once they catch them.

An hour had passed yet they barely moved. They were still on the same road. "What the hell is going on?" Ran clicked his tongue, honking on the car's horn.

He closed his eyes to calm himself, stepping on the pedal everytime the traffic moved by an inch or so. 'Calm down, Ran. Think of your happy place...' he tells himself, imagining himself in ponyville, playing with pinkie pie and rainbowdash.

Ran opened his eyes and as if thinking about ponies did something, the traffic began to move. 'Yes! The magic of friendship does work!'

*Crash*

'Or not...'

As the traffic came to a sudden halt, Ran glanced at the lane beside them. The loud crashing sound came from a white Mercedes smashing against the back of a black Bugatti Atalante, ruining the beautiful paint job on the expensive car.

The Bonten men glanced at the accident, pretty uninterested till a woman steps out of the expensive car. Her presence attracted the men, as she walked towards the white Mercedes with the sound of her heels against the asphalt road echoing through the traffic.

She wore a black dress that hugged her body confidently showing her beautiful curves along with a lower neckline which exposes an ample amount of cleavage. Her head was adorned with a black sun hat while leather gloves covered her petite hands, giving her an elegant and eye catching look.

The driver of the white car exits his car with an aggravated look till his eyes lands on her. Seeing that it was ‘just’ a woman, he smirks at himself, knowing that he could deal with this situation easily.

Interested in the drama—well, most likely on the woman—Ran rolled the window down to eavesdrop.

2ND POV

"Sir, It would be better for you to cooperate and provide me your information in order for me to charge you with the damage that you caused to my car." Your sultry voice was calm yet stern as you stared up at the man who loomed over your figure.

"What are you going to do about it, little lady?"

Your eyes narrowed as your lips formed into a thin line. "Sir, heed my words. Cooperate, or I will call the authorities." your cold tone didn't waver in the slightest and your eyes never left his own, glaring at him intensely.

The man scoffs at your confidence, belittling you. "And what makes you think I'm going to listen to you, huh?" he spat in a low tone, grabbing you by the arm.

In an instant, the man was pinned against the hood of Bonten' car with his hands tightly held in your grasp.

Rindou and Sanzu (who was currently high from xanax) gaped at the scene unfolding before their eyes. They shared an amused and excited glance at each other before shortly after, they childishly began to cheer you on, "Beat him up! Beat him up!" Their chaos was unnoticed by you due to the tinted glass and partially closed windows.

"Might I tell you, this car belongs to the Ootori's. From the looks of the uniform of the woman in your car, she works for them doesn’t she? It would be a shame if your partner wouldn’t have a job to come back to If ever they heard that you caused such damage to the family's precious car." You whispered in his ear threateningly.

At the mention of the successful and powerful family's name, the said woman frantically comes out of the car, "Tori, just listen to her! I swear if I lose my job because of you, it's over for the both of us, you imbecile!!"

Tori, the perpetrator, clicked his tongue in defeat, giving you his contact information before heading back to his vehicle. With a sigh, you walked over to Ran's car, leaning down towards the window, knocking on the glass to get his attention.

Though you didn't have to, you had their attention the moment they laid their eyes on you.

"Good day, gentlemen. I apologize for the commotion back there." Ran couldn't take his eyes off of you, looking intensely at your dolled up face, eyes staring down at your plump lips as you spoke. He was so tempted to just sweet talk you into getting in his car and take you home to have some fun, but he didn’t want to risk scaring you away.

"Here's my business card in case you want compensation for potential damages on your car."

Your gloved hand rummages through your purse, handing him your card. The older Haitani takes it, but not without grasping your hand in his and placing a kiss at the back of it. "Don't worry about it, doll. Though, I would prefer spending a day out with you as compensation." He winks at you, smiling flirtatiously.

You stared at him with amusement, bursting out laughing from his cockiness. God, your laugh was like music to their ears, entrancing them, making them more invested in you. "Well, I better head back to my car before the traffic starts moving again. See you around, boys~" With a wink, you blew a kiss towards them.

Silence filled the car as the men tried to process what just happened. Ran looks down at the business card that you had given him. “Olivia Rossi, huh…”

"I want her."

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘚𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬? 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘻 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 :)

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴.

𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥: 2/27/24

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rae-writes · 1 year

Note

Hey, I've had this idea for a little bit involving the obey me characters and wanted to do it, but I'm lazy as f*ck so maybe you can because your writing is very good.

I've just been imagining this but what if the obey me brothers and Mc had, like, a Prank War senerio, like maybe Lucifer vs the anti-Lucifer league and at some point there's a nerf gun war (and it's very dramatic) I don't know, just thought it might be funny. :)

I WAS ON THIS SO FUCKING FAST- LUCIFER VS ANTI-LUCIFER LEAGUE LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The iconic western duel music playing from Mammon's phone in the background almost had you breaking character, but somehow you managed to keep a straight face and raise your [nerf] gun higher.

"Mc?" Lucifer sat with Barbatos, Lord Diavolo, Solomon, and Simeon- all having been in a meeting (read: tea time) together.

"I'm sorry Lucifer..." You broke out into a grin, not being able to take the sight of your demon accomplices poking their heads out from behind the entryway, effectively making the dramatic moment shatter with your laughter.

Satan, Belphie, Mammon, and [a very much bribed] Levi stepped out into the common room with various complaints of you ruining the surprise attack and/or theatrical flair (to which you promptly ignored in favor of laughing harder).

"I just wanna say-" you cocked the plastic gun, aiming it in their direction, "I was promised pudding." and then you fired, hitting Lucifer square in the forehead, before shooting again and hitting Diavolo in the chest.

"ATTAAAACK!"

Hoots and hollers echoed off the walls as the House of Lamentation turned into a chaotic air soft range; Team Lucifer was now firing back with magic while the Anti-Lucifer League + Co was barrel-rolling across the floor and vaulting over furniture as they frantically shot the foam bullets you were all equipped with.

Truly, you didn't know exactly what the hell was going on for a while, only that Satan was going one-on-one with Lucifer, Belphie was taking shots at Diavolo from behind the couch, Mammon had the misfortune of being paired with Barbatos, and Levi was taking on Solomon (Simeon chose to sit on the sidelines and discretely help you).

"Mammon!" your over the top cry got everyone's attention- both the magic and bullets stopped flying as they watched you run to Mammon (who was sprawled on the ground) in amusement.

"M-mc," the second born's performance was even more dramatic than yours, "I feel cold...I t-think m'dyin, mc. U-use Goldy at least t-three times a day for m-me."

Practically in tears from laughing, you quickly tugged Mammon's body up to shield you from Solomon's attack, "LOVE YOU! THANKS!" and made your way to Satan to begin shooting at Lucifer again.

Lucifer is relentless with his magic attacks, not even blinking when you barely managed to dodge, even going so far as chuckling when Diavolo and Barbatos joined him- having defeated Belphie and Mammon.

(Belphie ended up tiring himself out and just stopped mid-roll, allowing Barbatos to land his attack. The seventh born just gave a thumbs up and went limp on the floor so he could just lay there and watch the rest of the game play out).

The five of you were all that was left when Solomon and Levi called a tie ("Shut up, Mammon! I might be a good shooter, but it's kind of hard to land a blow when he's firing shit at me that's breaking apart into more attacks!"), making the competition even more tense. It was evenly paced for at least three minutes before Barbatos withdrew.

"Give up now, Lucifer," Satan sent you a subtle nod, "Or suffer the consequences."

"You couldn't even beat me by yourself. How do you expect to win with Diavolo by my side?"

The largest magic attack that's been used this entire game came from said demon, directed right at Satan with a 100% certainty of landing.

That is, until it slammed into you instead.

Your body flew a couple feet back, skidding across the hardwood upon landing. The entire room went silent as the two opposing members rushed forward with your name falling from their mouth.

Lucifer reached you first, lifting your head to check for injuries softly, "Mc? Does anything hurt?"

"Mc, I'm so sorry-!"

You gripped Lucifer's wrist, tugging weakly (as if you had no strength), "Luci..fer.."

The first born leaned down, conveniently missing the bullet that hit Diavolo's shoulder. "What hurts?!" he was so uncharacteristically worried- it almost made you feel bad. Almost.

"Long live the Anti-Lucifer League."

Satan landed a hit right on the back of Lucifer's neck and a deafening cheer erupted from your other team members. It was all celebration and laughter and recounting the night's highlights until you let out a hiss after trying to sit up.

"That actually did hurt, though, can someone help me up? I might've sprained something....again."

"I'm so, so sorry!"

"It's alright, Lord Diavolo- it was all part of the plan-"

"-getting injured?"

"...Not that part, but winning definitely was. Can I have my pudding now?"

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me fluff #obey me drabbles #lucifer x reader #satan x reader #mammon x reader #diavolo x reader

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peachfridges · 2 years

Text

five times they almost got caught (and one time they did)

request from @soapmeup

Hello! I saw your requests are open and I am in desperate need of some Soap fics. You can write whatever you want I just want more of him!!!

cw: pre-established relationship, slight smut but poor soap keeps getting cockblocked, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, mentions of ptsd, vomiting, nightmares, gaz lives, soap being a flirt despite the circumstances, fluff, swearing, soap and the reader are so in love.

pairing: john ‘soap’ mactavish x soldier! reader.

word count: 2.7k

notes: i love soap so incredibly much and had so much fun writing this! i adore this theme of one-shots so i just had to attempt it. sorry for the late post, i tried to rush it to get it out this week but it was so hard coming up with different scenarios for each one and trying to flesh them out made it even harder.

[one]

"no one's going to see us y/n." soap promised. you didn't believe him one bit. there was no way in hell that not a single person would come down this corridor.

"really now?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at him. a grin settled on his face. whilst you loved his smile, now was not a good time to see it. it was the same grin he always gave you when he was about to do something stupid. the same 'shit-eating' grin, as ghost had fashioned it after a few drinks in a nearby bar after a mission, that usually ended up with soap injured during a mission.

"really. no one will see us, and you won't have to worry about anyone snitching on us to the Lt. or to the captain." your boyfriend replied.

now, let's put the record straight. you didn't care if your superiors found out. realistically, you knew they couldn't give two fucks. what you did care about, however, was the way you would get incessantly made fun of by them. you were well aware of the fact that if gaz or roach ever found out, you would never be able to live it down.

soap pushed you up against the wall and kissed you. a smile graced your features as you kissed him back. you longed for affection from him, but with your places on task force 141, it was hard to find the time when you didn't know the next place you'd be sent on a mission. his hands held your waist, as one of yours found its way to his hair. the kiss grew deeper as your lips moulded against one another, soap's hand moving its way up your shirt towards your covered breast. a light moan escaped your lips. soap's grin returned, and he was about to move his other hand elsewhere until you heard footsteps coming towards your location.

you quickly pushed soap away, just in time as price walked up to you both. you didn't miss the opportunity to send a sharp glare towards the scotsman next to you.

"everything okay?" price asked, as if your swollen lips and flushed cheeks didn't give at least some incentive as to what had just been happening.

"just peachy, sir." johnny's thick scottish accent prominent as he replied. after a quick glance between the two of you, price had decided he didn't want to know what events he had just narrowly escaped.

"very well." the captain walked away, leaving you and soap alone. you punched his arm, causing the man to let out a yelp.

"okay, okay! maybe some people do come down here. note taken."

[two]

a mission never did run smoothly, as you had quickly discovered after your first few with the 141. you, ghost, and soap were meant to be in and out, a simple 'retrieve the evidence' as laswell had described it. what hadn't been anticipated was just how many members of the drug cartel was going to be there. this was evident when, just as ghost was about to declare that the floor was 'clear', at least four more shooters came at the three of you and managed to get a shot at soap.

"fuck!" ghost shouted, immediately getting to cover and taking shots at them as you moved johnny out of the way of the firing bullets. offering a few deadly shots at the enemy yourself, you returned to face johnny, who had a hand over his leg where the bullet had hit him. after getting a look at the wound, you quickly ascertained that his leg, and soap himself, would be fine, as long as the mission ended sooner rather than later (which was likely when you had ghost with you), and he was seen be a medic as soon as possible.

the wince adorning soap's face told you how much pain he was in, despite him trying to act fine. "soap, speak to me. can you walk?" you asked.

"course i can. might just need a bit of help is all." a chuckle escaped his lips. his face had gone that sickly pale colour, telling that he would soon lose consciousness due to the pain he was in.

"don't lie to me, searg."

"thought i was going to get away with it that time, lass."

having disposed of the cartel members that had ambushed the three of you, ghost made his way over to the two of you.

"i'll find what we need. stay here with johnny until i get back." ghost ordered before walking into the next room, where you had been told the evidence should be located. you turned your attention back to johnny, who was sat up but slumped against the wall you had moved him to.

his eyes met yours, "want to go out for drinks when we get back to base?"

you laughed dryly, "think you might need a bit of time to recover before we go out."

"ah, worth a try." soap hissed in pain as he tried to relieve some weight off of his injured leg. you adjusted your position to apply pressure to his bullet wound, kissing the top of his head as you did so. ghost walked in, holding the hard drive up, assumingly with the evidence on it. panic set in yours and johnny's eyes, had ghost just seen that? he would say something if he had, right?

"let's move," was all ghost said, walking over to you both and hoisting johnny up so you both could help him out.

apparently not.

[three]

after a long mission, price had decided that it would be good for you all to go down to a bar to rewind. alejandro, rodolfo and kate had decided to join you all, as well as ghost and gaz obviously.

the bar was owned by an ex-cia agent who had worked with laswell, so you all had the place to yourself. the liquor you had been steadily drinking for a few hours now was finally going to your head, and it was clear that the others were in a similar position.

gaz and price were sat at the bar with laswell. ghost, alejandro and rodolfo were in a booth a few away from where you and soap were stationed. you were sat close enough to each other that you could feel his hand hold onto yours, but not so close that it could give anyone, especially ghost, an idea about your relationship.

you looked towards johnny, a soft smile on his lips as you locked eyes. “you’re beautiful,” he whispered, low enough for you to hear. you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“you think?” you replied.

“i do. i’m so lucky to be with you.”

“you’re right about that.” a smirk covered your mouth as johnny rolled his eyes playfully.

in your peripheral vision, you noticed price looking at ghost, nodding towards you and soap. ghost must have indicated some sort of reply, because price let a silent laugh wash over him before turning back towards laswell and gaz.

what was that about?

[four]

as expected, the mission to capture hassan had gone horribly wrong. now, here you were, your wrists bound by a rope behind your back and hassan in front of you.

“you think you can stop me?” hassan shouted at you. you would be lying if you said you weren’t fearful, but you refused to give hassan the satisfaction of seeing it. there were three other iranian soldiers in the room with you. you kept silent as hassan continued, coming up to you as he spoke. “we are not attacking, we are invading.”

hassan grabbed you as a bullet collided with one of the soldiers. the door swung open as bullets were fired around you and hassan. before you knew it, the soldiers were dead and you had a gun pressed against your temple. hassan faced you towards the two british men who had came to your rescue: simon riley and john mactavish. ghost, as always, seemed calm, but even his eyes gave away his slight panic. soap on the other hand? he looked like he was out for blood.

“let her go or we shoot.” ghost demanded. hassan chuckles.

“why should i not just shoot her now?” he pressed the gun harder into your head, causing you to wince from the sharp pain. “you put your guns down and let me leave. she will go free.”

soap and ghost looked at each other in deliberation. “do not compromise the mission for me.” you told them. the mission above all else was more important than your life - you had to save the people you were serving. you knew ghost shared your sentiments, which is why you were so shocked when he followed johnny’s movements in placing their guns on the floor.

hassan let go of you as johnny pulled out his pistol and shot hassan through his heart. the iranian fell dead as soap came over to you and cut the binds from your wrists. “are you okay?” worry was laced through your boyfriend’s tone.

“could be better.” you answered, pain shooting through your body from the numerous wounds you had received from hassan’s men. “thank you.”

“what kind of a man would i be if i didn’t save such a beautiful woman?”

“and that’s enough. soap, help y/n. alejandro is bringing a vehicle to get us away from here.” soap grinned at ghost’s evident uncomfort, living for the satisfaction of annoying the significantly taller man.

soap helped you to your feet, putting an arm under yours to support you. you let him take most of your weight, unable to walk properly due to a deep gash to your leg you had sustained. “we’ll get you straight to a medic when we’re back at base.”

all you could do was nod. you could feel consciousness slipping away from you, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from drooping shut.

when you awoke, you saw you were back in base and in the clinic. you turned to your left and saw soap sat in the chair next to the bed you were lying in, filling in some reports. you moved your hand towards his and he held it, looking up at you. “you’re finally awake, huh?”

you let out a soft ‘mm’, signifying that he was correct.

“they left some nasty hits on you, medic patched you up though. said you should be ready for action within a week as long as you rest.” soap informed you.

“good.” you paused for a moment before continuining, “flirting with me in front of the Lt. now?”

“i saw an opportunity and i had to take it.” he grinned and you let out a chuckle. johnny never did understand subtle, as you’d grown to realise.

[five]

it was 6:42am when you were awoken by the scottish man lying next to you suddenly jolting awake, panting to catch his breath.

you sit up and put a hand on his back that is greeted w a harsh flinch so you quickly move your hand away. “johnny, what’s wrong?” you ask.

“nothing, sorry.” his response was too quick for him to be telling the truth. you held his face and made him look at you and saw his eyes were glistened over.

you knew he was trying not to worry you, but his efforts were having the opposite effect. “please, talk to me. don’t shut me out.” you practically begged.

“had a nightmare. you, um,” he took a shaky breath before continuing, “i saw your dead body. me and Lt. hadn’t got there in time to save you. hassan had killed you and escaped.”

“i’m right here. hassan didn’t kill me and you saved me. i’ll always be right here next to you whether you like it or not.” soap chuckled softly at your end remark.

“that’s true, lass.” his breathing was calming down.

you smile softly. you knew johnny struggled with what he had seen in missions, all of you did. however, you also knew he had a tendency to let it pent up until it became too much as he didn’t want to hastle anyone.

“you can always talk to me about any fears you have. you know that, don’t you?” you questioned.

“i do. i’m sorry.” he rested his forehead against your own, presumably looking for comfort and to ensure you were in fact next to him, and not his imagination in case the dream was real.

“don’t ever be sorry. i love you, so, so much. promise me you’ll remember that.”

“i promise. i love you,” he kissed you gently and you kissed him back. the kiss was long but sweet, something you know he needed. he broke away and murmured, “when all of this is done and we have a bit of free time, i swear i’m going to marry you.”

you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. “is that a proposal?” you teased.

“i suppose it is.”

“i’d love to marry you, johnny.”

“well, i’d hope so.” you both laughed. the rare times where you could just act as if you were two normal people, not fighting in wars where you don’t know if your next breath will be your last, were moments you would remember forever - especially this one. “do you think they’ll care if we don’t make it to the meeting this morning and instead sleep in?”

“i doubt it.”

as you both lay back down and succumbed to sleep once again in each other’s arms, you failed to hear footsteps, belonging to a certain 6’6 man, walking away from the door where he was about to ensure soap was awake for the meeting.

[one]

ghost hadn’t stopped talking for what felt like hours. it had gotten to the point where you could probably recite tomorrow’s mission in your sleep. you hadn’t been paying attention for a while now, instead focussing on everyone’s stances.

gaz had his head leant on his hand, watching ghost but with no focus on the words leaving the masked man’s mouth. price was making notes, writing down everything that was said. it was a sharp juxtapose to soap, who was sat next to him, who you had only just noticed was staring at you.

you returned johnny’s gaze, smiling at him as he grinned back. it wasn’t until several moments later when you both turned to look back at ghost that you saw him glaring at the two of you.

before you could even ask what was wrong, ghost began speaking.

“are you two having a psychic conversation about your wedding or something?”

your jaw dropped and you could see gaz trying to smother his laughter.

“what the fuck, Lt.” soap couldn’t say anything else. you were both speechless.

“did you really think we didn’t know? it was painfully obvious.” price confirmed.

“we’ve all seen the way you look at each other. even alejandro and rudy noticed.” gaz explained. “plus the Lt. and captain have been keeping us updated on everything they’ve overheard or seen.”

“oh, so ghost is a gossip now?” you replied. you couldn’t believe it. had you really been that obvious?

“if that’s what you want to call it.” ghost was having too much fun over this and you knew it.

price spoke up once again, with you wishing he hadn’t. “can i request that next time you two want to have sex, please don’t do it in a corridor where people can walk past? we know you both share a room so please just use that, i don’t care if you ‘can’t wait’.”

you could feel your cheeks heating up. you knew you shouldn’t have trusted johnny about the corridor, and this is proof as to why.

“this is why none of you are being invited to the wedding.” soap interjected. you looked at him and playfully rolled your eyes, already knowing your fiancé would do everything in his power to get ghost to be his best man.

“i think you know we’ll be there, johnny.” ghost replied. “now that you two are paying attention, can we get back to discussing the mission?”

you both replied at the same time, sharing the sentiment of wanting no further embarrassment.

“yes, sir.”

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra

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howlonomy · 4 months

Note

Idea for dt clover monster

1- 6 shooter, where the board gets split into 6 sections and you have to remember how the rounds were loaded into it

2- buckshot, where clover will shoot the board with a shotgun but the rounds fan out like the astral dreamer attack

3- lasso and lazer where the board is lined up with a double barrel shotgun and the soul is tied to the center having to avoid each shot from each barrel

4- clover will slowly move their talons in and you have to fire at them to keep them away

Beyond that I’m not sure, maybe they use their wings to block attacks?

yall are way more creative than me with this kinda stuff AHDJSJCN but ill add my own thoughts!!

YELLOW ATTACKS; If you get hit with one of DT!Clover’s yellow attacks, your HP gets sucked out and used to heal DT!Clover instead (similar to Ceroba’s red attacks).

1) Six Shooter —> Russian Roulette: In a very similar vein, you watch a (yellow colored) round be loaded into a revolver; you have like half a second to react to a reticle being put on your soul before it’s fired and it’s either a live round (normal bullet attack) or a yellow round.

2) Buckshot: Huge shotgun attacks that explodes into stars. The stars explode into SMALLER stars. Very bullet hell.

3) Prey: Similar to Ed’s attack, you have to avoid Clover’s talons grabbing you; if caught, you are stuck in one place and aimed at by either feathers, stars, or revolver shots. Very difficult to move and avoid attacks if caught.

4) Blackhole: Extending their wings, their inner wings turn into the void of space, sucking you to the top of the battle box. You must avoid swipes from their claws or shooting stars coming out of their wings.

5) One Last Hurrah: Similar to Zenith Martlet’s attack where the screen goes huge and she flies towards you (idk the name lmao); Clover’s tail splits into four; they slam it into the battle box, yellow shards spraying. The main attack is DT!Clover’s SOUL charge up an attack and shoot towards you. They swat your bullets away with their tail, you can’t hurt them during this attack.

EXTRA CHALLENGES: As the fight goes on, lighting surrounds attacks that have things to do with DT!Clover’s physical body; such as their talons or wings. Extra damage, and occasionally yellow! A lot of simpler attacks also overlap, like how Zenith Martlet has like 3 different attacks going on every round. Things like TNT explosions, gunpowder lines you have to avoid (or else it will explode), and gunshots that shatter the battle box into segments (so you’re stuck in one section unless you take damage to move through the cracks).

You would have to aim for DT!Clover’s soul with bullets to hurt them! No other spot would damage them; just their soul. idk how all this would work in an actually game but this was fun to theorize and think up >:]

#monster clover au #asked and answered #undertale yellow #whew this was a big one!! but really fun!!!!#i think for their final final attack (killing no mercy clover) they would super level up LOLL #and their tail looking like a save point was accidental but it very much reminds me of predators that mimic prey to lure in their own prey #very fun thought!!!#mcau lore #mcau au #mcau doodle

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redsaurrce · 2 years

Text

BTS MAFIA REACTIONS TO YOU LEAVING THEM

(Yandere hyung edition)

Warnings: YANDERE CONTENT, SLIGHT SMUT, MENTIONS OF MAKING OUT, GUN, WEAPON, INJURY, BETRAYAL, HUMILIATION, KISSING, PROFANITY, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION.

Enjoy ♡

𝕵𝖎𝖓 ❗

• He was away on an emergency mission.

• He initially had taken you hostage because you were the enemy mafia leader's daughter.

• He would normally kill his hostages if the demands were not fulfilled.

• That would've been your fate as well.

• But he saw a hint of madness in your eyes while your hands were tied at your back in the chair.

• He was amused with the show you were putting on.

• When he lowered his head to look at you at eye-to-eye level, you spat on him out of spite.

• He chuckled while wiping the spit off his face with a handkerchief.

• He grabbed your hair and made you look up.

• While he scanned your face in rage, you looked at him fiercely.

• He smirked and released your hair.

• For a moment he felt enchanted by you, something strange stirred inside him.

• "Give her nice clothes and send her to my room tonight before I come back." He ordered his men.

• Right now it was dark and you were running away in your bare feet when you got the chance to secretly escape.

• When you took a turn inside the jungle, your eyes went wide at the people standing in front of you with Jin in the center with his arms folded.

• "Dear oh dear! You really ran fast like a deer." He said mockingly with a cocked eyebrow.

• You gulped and turned to another side but there were already men present.

• You were totally surrounded.

• But you were not willing to give up just yet until-

• "Please go to him my daughter!" You heard your father's crying voice.

• You turned back to look at Jin where your father was dragged out by his men from his behind.

• Your eyes stung with tears, you hoped so eagerly to see your father, to see him come to your rescue.

• You even went lengths to escape just to unite with him.

• But now your father told you to stay with them! Your father, among everyone else??

• Your felt a lump in your throat and suddenly you remembered the words Jin had whispered in your ears, "No one cares for you baby, not even your father. The only person who'd care for you is me darling."

𝖄𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖎 ❗

• You were working under the black X mafia gang as their armorer.

• Recently Yoongi has been keeping you close to him than other weapon handlers- way too close actually.

• So close that when your gang would return after completing the tasks, he would reward you by being intimate with you.

• Did you like it? Yeah he was good at it but still, you didn’t like him touching you that way or him being possessive.

• Because he was damn possessive, he wouldn't even allow you to leave his room without his consent.

• You were a smart person so you knew that asking for your resignation from him wouldn't end good judging by his obsession with you.

• No! You've had enough of his shenanigans.

• You needed to escape.

• And so you packed your bag with enough weapons and jumped from the wall behind the building.

• Shit! The men noticed you. You ran with all your might but fucking hell they were really fast.

• You thought of using the gun you had in your pocket.

• But just then they started to fire giving you no time to turn and shoot.

• Fuck! A bullet pierced through your left leg making you scream.

• You started limp-running in pain.

• Suddenly you heard a gun shot, it definitely killed a person but neither were you the receiver nor were you the shooter. The firing had stopped.

• A voice boom throughout the open area, "FUCKING DROP YOUR GUNS ASSHOLES!"

• You knew that voice very well. It was him.

• You tried to increase your pace as you felt someone was getting closer to you.

• A hand grabbed your arm and you flinched in fright.

• "Baby were you really running away? Tell me you weren't, right?" He said in worried a tone and hugged you.

• In his hug he felt something cold touch his chest.

• It was a gun.

• You had a gun placed on his chest.

He broke the hug and looked at the gun then at you.

• "Yoongi let me go or I will shoot you." You said as your eyes reddened.

• He chuckled as he tilted his head. "My little bird has grown up so much." He kissed you on the forehead and you thrusted the gun deeper in his chest.

• He said, "No need to put up a bold front baby, I know you love me too otherwise I would've been dead by now with the gun in your hand."

• You wanted to scoff in his face.

• But before you could press the trigger, he carotid slapped in your neck making you lose your conscience in an instant.

• You fell in his arms and he carried you up like a bride.

• He whispered, "Too bad I can't punish you tonight because of your leg baby, that bastard died for good."

𝕳𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖔𝖐❗

• At first you and him only shared the relationship of a sugar daddy and a sugar baby.

• It was good, he was getting relieved from stress by your acquaintance while you were getting relived by paying your bills from his money.

• This went for quite a time until you saw his true identity as a mafia.

• Ever since you saw him shoot guns and saw his men getting shot by others outside the hotel you both would make out in, that scene had traumatized you.

• Were you associating yourself with a criminal? No no no that can't happen.

• You were just a college student trying to survive every day somehow.

• You never imagined you would be making out with someone who kills people.

• What if he kills you too someday if he was done using you?

• You shook your head at the thought.. no, you needed to cut ties with him asap.

• And so you did, you changed your number and even moved to another place. Moving would have taken a toll on you but thanks to Hoseok's money, you didn't find moving a pain in the ass this time.

• You remember telling him about your address and nothing else because when he asked more about you, you had refused saying he should share his information as well.

• It was a give and take of information. But he never gave by saying, "I'll tell you when the time comes, I will even take you there someday."

• You were thankful to your past self for not egging him more for knowing much about him because you would have needed to change your university too if he knew.

• But to your horror when you exited your university to go to your car parked in the underground parking lot, he was standing in front of your car, the car you had bought from his money.

• Your face grew pale.

• He tsked, "Baby I gave a better car as your birthday gift, why are you driving this?" He looked at the car with a sour expression.

• Yeah the car he had gifted you was much more expensive and flashy but you couldn't be stupid enough to drive it around.

• What if he had installed GPS in that? You could have been easily tracked down.

• You clutched the straps of your bag tightly. "I have nothing to do with you. Please leave." You said with all of your will power.

• He chuckled, "I didn't come here to leave babygirl, though we are leaving together. Remember the day I had told you that when time comes I'll take you to my place? Today's the right day for it. Boys!" He grinned as he gestured something with his fingers while he put on a mask.

• And before you could run away, a smoke gas erupted and surrounded you, making you drop to ground unconscious in an instant.

𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓❗

• You were the top spy in your gang which earned you nice facilities like no one else had.

• Better pay, better stay, better everything. Even better sex, with your gang's leader on top of that.

• You would too engage yourself with Namjoon the best way you could.

• Ugh! He loved you so much, he would do anything for you.

• Whenever you both used to look in each other's eyes during close proximity in the bed, you could see affection overflowing in his eyes while you don't know what sees in yours.

• Because you had no love for him. The only thing you felt was guilt.

• Just like you were feeling it right now as you were leaving from the back of his room by sliding down a rope.

• You were leaving to sell your gang's inside information to your rival gang.

• Actually you have done this several times before but today you were leaving for good.

• When you climbed down successfully and turned to head out, you saw Namjoon standing there casually as if he was waiting for you to show up.

• You started breathing faster out of nervousness as he approached you.

• You blinked and looked at your left to run.

• But Namjoon quickly came and blocked your way with his arms as he trapped you between the wall behind and him at your front.

• "Y/N I can't believe you were going to betray after all that I've done for you." He said with a pathetic expression.

• You gulped, how did he get to know this? You made sure to never let him get the slightest bit of hint.

• Then he leaned closer and spoke, "Y/N, you know right what we do with the bad guys?" He said turning towards your ear and his mint breath tickled the skin of your neck.

• Your lips quivered, "w-we beat the-them to death." With every word you spoke, you felt like your soul was about to abandon your body.

• He smirked and then removed his face and looked at you, his lips mere centimeters away from yours.

• "And what do we do with the traitors?" He asked you, emphasizing on each and every word.

• With his face so close and his aura so threatening, you felt like you were going to black out any second. "We-we maul them t-to death." You spoke with much difficulty.

• He hummed in agreement and then attached his lips with your lips, within the next moment he was devouring your mouth like an animal as if he was hungry for your kiss since ages.

• He grabbed your ass and pulled you up the wall and started lapping at your cunt.

• He said, "But baby you are special to me, I will spare you this time if you obey your master and promise you will never leave again."

• "I-i promise." You bit your tongue to not let out a loud scream as he bit your pussy.

• He smirked, "Good girl."

• Oh well, he knew you were betraying him all the way long, so he kept feeding you with information which was actually not true. He would share you his false plans while he slept next to you, knowing that you were going to tell all of that bullshit to the rival gang.

• When you were busy having pleasure with him, he was busy inserting micro audio devices in your intimate parts, so whenever you had the conversation with the rivals, he could crystal clearly hear you and their plans.

• Thus technically the one you were betraying was not him but them. But today he couldn't let you go since you would be leaving him forever. He would never let that happen.

• Never.

Yeah big mouth watchers ik u have caught on the dialogue in namjoon's part haha!

Tysm for reading ♡

1K notes · View notes

kaynothanks · 1 year

Text

Sucker-Punch | S.R.

Ask: 9 but with steve rogers x reader and the reader hates them because of their righteousness and they r a reformed agent/villain of some kind like natasha but super mischievous (loki level) which irks steve but they can’t deny their attraction for each other or something

Warnings: BLOOD, ruthless assassin!reader, killing, GORE be aware, smut, minors DNI!

Word-Count: 6k

Steve was going to kill you, or worse; he was going to sit you down (again) and hold his speech filled with morals and patriotic mightiness. That man certainly had seventy years of pent-up moral crap to spread into the world.

Hell, sometimes you felt like the Wicked Witch of the West, with Steve’s righteous words the water ready to melt your being and bring you to your end.

Still, you took the risk as you switched off the transmitter in your ear and the tracking device on your arm, which each team member wore in case the transmitter got damaged or one got too heavily injured to call for help themselves. With certain steps, you entered the unsecured base that Steve had ordered all of you not to – under any circumstances – get close to without backup.

A loud crash sounded. The lights shut off and you halted; listening closely and silently. It was only a moment later that some generators powered up and the whole base was illuminated by red flickering lights.

Fun.

You pulled two knives from the holsters on your hips, carefully setting one foot in front of the other. On high alert, you pressed your back against the wall and peered over the edge. Barely a blink of an eye later, a blade went sailing past your head. You pulled back; shock pushing the air from your lungs. Flicking the knives between your fingers, a grin snuck onto your lips.

This, though, was going to be fun.

Within a second you were moving, keeping a swift pace as the two males before you pulled out their guns. You flung one of the knives. It found its mark straight through the male’s palm. A wail of pain flew from his mouth as you evaded the line of bullets flying towards you. Throwing out your leg, you kicked the gun from the shooter’s hand. A few precise strikes later, both men were unconscious and bleeding on the floor as you pulled your knives from their bodies and wiped the crimson liquid off on their clothes.

From the gadget bracelet on your wrist – which Tony had designed for both Natasha and you a while back – shot two ropes made of finely treated metal that anchored in the thick bullet-proof vests the males wore. You detached the ropes from the bracelet and brought them over your shoulder, making it easier for you to pull them along after you.

About fifteen minutes later, you had a row of unconscious men seated in front of you and the heavy metal door to the room you were in locked to keep out any intruders. Their leader you had placed in the middle for good measure.

While waiting for them to wake, you double-checked their bind until the first groans echoed through the isolated room. You walked back around to their front, so they were able to face you as you leaned your back against the wall and took out one of your knives. It wasn’t long before all of them were blinking at you in confusion, their eyes shifting to the glinting blade dancing between your fingers.

"Good morning, boys," you greeted with a smile after you were certain they were back in their right state of mind. "That was fun, wasn’t it? And you got a good nap out of it, too." Cocking your head, you pushed yourself off the wall deadly silent on your feet – just like you had been trained. "The lot of you are probably wondering why you're here and not, well, dead," you smiled. "I want to play a little game with you that I made up. It's called you tell me what I want to know and keep your fingers. Sounds fun? Great."

"You're an Avenger," one of them gasped. "You can’t do that."

"Oh, honey, haven’t you heard?" You questioned and stalked along the lined-up males towards the young lad who had spoken up. "I'm a Viper." You leaned down. "And I do a thing called what I want."

His breathing picked up, you noticed, causing a smile to slip back onto your face. Aloud you counted from man to man to the tune of eeny, meeny, miney, moe until the rhyme ended and you stopped in front of one of them. The man you halted across from didn’t waver at your presence, didn’t flinch or blink, or even moved to acknowledge you.

"Now, I wanna know, where is—" A patch of spit landed on your face. Clenching your jaw, you wiped the wetness from your cheek as the man before you laughed deeply. "And to think I was trying so hard to be nice," you sneered, flicked your knife, and hit. His laughing cut off abruptly, eyes widening. He sputtered as blood poured from his mouth and splattered from the cut across his throat. After a moment he fell silent and his head rolled to the side. Dead. You wiped the blade clean on his shirt.

You tsked. "Now, that wasn’t fun, was it? At least for you." With your clothed arm, you cleaned away the droplets of red on your face. Again, you chanted down the children's rhyme, coming to stand before the one that had called you out on being an Avenger. "First question," you spoke and bent down to catch his eyes. "Where are the artifacts?"

The young male stumbled over his words until he felt the tip of your blade pressing into his jugular vein. "It's only one!" The words burst out of him. "The… The first case we… we never had. I—please, don’t kill me."

"That's a good boy," you stated and petted his cheek, letting go of him as you turned to the others. "Now, the case you guys do have, is it long enough to hold, say, a sword?" You pulled out a sharpie from your belt and made a cross on the man's forehead who had given you some answers.

"No," another one growled with irritation as you eyed him expectantly. "It's in a wooden cube one story below."

"Awesome," you gave back and went forward to draw a mark on his forehead, too. "I'm not going to lie, boys, I'm a bit disappointed you don't have the blade I wanted. The rumors I heard about it for sure made it sound interesting." You clapped your hands together loudly. "Next question." Your gaze fell from man to man. "I'm guessing you all have heard of a man named Dreykov." All of them went utterly still. Taking notice of their sudden change in demeanor, you were on the move again. "The man you were trafficking innocent children for. Ring a bell? Well, as you might have noticed, he's dead. But you know who isn't dead? His partner, or boss, or whatever."

Some of them glanced around uncertainly. One of them shifted in his seat. "He didn’t have—"

Before the black-haired man had finished his sentence one of your knives was prodding from his forehead. "See that? He was being a bad boy. Bad boys don’t get an X, they get a knife. Got it? Let's try this again. What's his name?" No one answered. You sighed in disappointment. "And I thought we were making progress."

At that moment every sense of remorse or hesitancy left in your body seemed to vanish. Minute after minute another one of them lost the beating of their heart and before you knew it, only their leader and the two males you had marked were left alive.

As you saw how the two men with marks on their foreheads looked at you, you gave them a sharp glare. "Don’t look at me like that," you scoffed. "It's not like you lot are kindergarten teachers. You are mass murderers, terrorists, and child traffickers. If you wanted to live to eighty, you should have paid more attention on career day." Bringing your attention to the leader of the group, you chose to ignore the other two, which now were completely useless to you – you had chosen to believe them when they assured you that they knew nothing.

"What's his name?" You addressed the eldest of them for the first time. "Where is he hiding? And while you're at it, you can tell me all the other shit I should know about him." When he didn’t answer, you chuckled. "Stepan—that is your name, isn't it?" Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected to hear it fall from your lips. "Stepan Kuznetsov, born in 1964 just a few miles out of Novosibirsk. Two younger brothers. Parents deceased. No wife. No children… that we both know of." You winked. "Your younger brothers don’t seem to be involved in any shady business. How about we keep it that way, huh?"

His face scrunched up in anger. You could see dozens of curses running through his mind that he longed to throw in your face. "Ivan Yugov," he finally muttered.

The name started playing over and over in your head until you could physically feel each and every syllable on your tongue. You swallowed. "Go on. You know what I want to hear."

"Ты чертова сука. Почему бы тебе не сделать то, что женщины умеют лучше всего, и не лечь, как чертова шлюха, и не отсосать мой член," he spat at you.

You blinked at him before a loud laugh escaped your throat. "Not what I wanted to hear!" You exclaimed and in flash were towering over him with your knife poking at his chest. "Call me that again, and you'll find my blade somewhere very uncomfortable."

His teeth were on display as he growled in your face. "Bitch."

"I was planning on letting you live to rot away in a cell somewhere, Stepan," you assured. "But after that shit you just pulled, letting you breathe doesn’t seem so pleasant anymore." Just as you pulled back your arm, ready to plunge your knife where you thought it belonged, a loud bang came from the door. Your head rolled forward as a string of curses left your lips. The heavy metal door hit the wall and you straightened, turning to face the wrath of Mr. Liberty himself. Steve stood broad-shouldered, a glint in his eyes that let you know you were in for it in ways you had never been before.

Feeling as though nothing mattered anymore anyway, you flashed Steve a grin and threw your knife behind you. With a straining grunt Stepan, too, found his last breath. You threw a look over your shoulder at the two men still alive. "Boys," you spoke one last time and stalked toward the burly – vicious - male in the doorway. Steve was quite obviously rendered speechless by the gory scene in front of him. "Captain." Saluting him, you made to push past him, but he caught your wrist before you could lower it. Your orbs took in his hand around your arm and snapped to his with a venomous warning. Pushing down the anger, you gave him a smirk instead. "Oh, don’t worry, Cap, the blood isn't mine."

"I'm done," he stated. "I don’t care what Fury said. I won't risk another murder scene just because you couldn’t control yourself."

"Are you going to prance around now with all of your values and morals and tell me that killing them was wrong? That they didn’t deserve it?" You sneered. "For all I care, I just saved the government some money."

"There are protocols to follow. Just because you are angry doesn’t mean you can go around killing whomever you want."

"I'm going to kill whoever stands in my way of getting to him. People like them—people like him ruined me. I just plan on returning the favor." You ripped yourself free from Steve.

"Who's going to just let you go on a killing spree?"

"Who's gonna stop me?" You shot back, eyes boring into his blue ones. You stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he was going to argue any more. Though when he said nothing else, you descended down the corridor and turned on the transmitter in your ear. "Nat, you there?"

"Where the hell have you been? We thought they had gotten you."

"Ouch," you replied. "You really thought they would be good enough to take me out? That hurts, Nat, really does."

"Glad to hear you're okay."

"You'll be even gladder to hear that the artifact is right below where I'm standing. I'm going to send you the location and head back to the jet. I don't think I'm welcome out on the field anymore."

Natasha hesitated. "What did you do?"

"I got his name, Nat," you breathed, feeling as though one of the stones you had carried in your chest broke loose. Ever since you had been sent out to kill her after she didn’t return from a mission, Natasha had played a big part in changing your life. If it wasn’t for her and Clint – whose arrow had sneakily come from behind and knocked you out cold – you would still only be a pawn in the Viper Program.

For once, it wasn’t Dreykov that had thought it up, but his partner, which he had revealed before dying at the hands of Yelena Belova. Where the children unfit for the Red Room had been brought. Instead of the big mass of children chosen to become Black Widows, the Vipers were a mere group of a dozen girls too uncontrollable, too vicious for the fine training of the Red Room. The training of the Viper Program had proceeded in the Black Pit, where there were little to no rules except exceeding. And in the end, there had been no more than five girls left alive to graduate.

After you had been sent out to terminate Natasha – she was the first ever person to beat you in a fight – you had ended up being bound the same way those men back there had. She had asked you so many questions, which you had continuously ignored until you had managed to silently free yourself from the robe. You had waited for her to turn her back before dashing out of the room with impressive speed (with Natasha having taken all of your weapons away, your chance of completing your mission had shrunk tremendously). You had been searching for the least noticeable way out of the place she had brought you, which only ended with you running into Steve Rogers, who had been alerted by Natasha just like all the other present Avengers in the Avengers Compound. You had known the place inside and out, having studied its blueprints until you held the knowledge of every single possible exit. Only a certain artificial intelligence was aware of those exits, too, and had sealed them shut before you even had the chance of getting close.

A month you had been forced to spend underground being questioned each day until you received the information that someone else had been sent after Natasha and you, too. The program had given up on you just like that. You knew what they were like and still, you believed you meant more to them after having grown up there.

All of the four remaining Vipers had come for you, and all of them died trying to kill one of their own – being too blindsided themselves to see the truth which Natasha had taken a whole month to press into your head. Natasha was able to understand you in ways you found that no one else could. She knew when you simply needed space or someone to just hover over you without talking.

You strolled up the loading ramp of the new, modernized Quinjet that Tony had hammered out with the council members of SHIELD after Bruce Banner had vanished with the last working one. Huffing at the stickiness on your skin, you unzipped the tight dark green vest (which Stark ensured to be fire- and bulletproof) covering your torso and dropped it beside one the chairs.

By the lord, you were in desperate need of an immediate shower.

"Damage Control is on the way I heard," Natasha announced as she jogged up the ramp, giving you a slight once-over.

"Oh, don’t give me that," you groaned, pulling the sleeve of your black shirt over your hand to use it to wipe away the blood on your face. "They send DC for about everything now. Soon they're gonna be cleaning up roadkill."

"You just can’t stand the director."

"'Cause she's a bitch," you hummed.

"You keep talking like that and Steve might just bring out a bar of soap."

"Yeah…" You grinned and gave her a wink after slipping off the black shirt. "Mouth washing's never worked on me." Instead of laughing along with you, her expression darkened, knowing what else was used for taming her and you. She was about to say something when Steve's broad form came into view from the corner of your eye. A sigh fell from your lips before you took off your shirt and flung it down onto your vest, leaving you in a tank top.

"I need to talk to you," his serious low voice rumbled through the otherwise quiet Quinjet, while he put down the artifact hidden away in a wooden box. Natasha let you two know she would handle the piloting as she hastily slipped to the front of the jet.

"Christ, Steve," you swore and crossed your arms, feeling the drying crimson liquid clamming up your skin's surface. "Keep your morals away from me for as long as I look like Carrie, alright?"

"Who?"

You blinked at him. "Never mind." Curiously, your eyes flitted behind Steve to where he had set own the wooden box. Before the super-soldier had time to react, you slipped past his muscular arm and toward the hidden temptation.

A hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you back. You gave him a sharp glare, only to be met with one of his own. "We don’t know what it does," he stated. "It might be dangerous."

Your brow twitched upward. "Don’t be silly. It's useful."

His tight hold ceased. "What do you know about it?"

"More than you, apparently," you replied and skillfully removed his fingers from your arm; the spot tingled uncomfortably, so much so you had to rub over it to make the feeling stop. Still turned to him, you have him a grin until out of the black you dashed forward, slipping the shield from his back. His arm went out to grab you but you ducked away, pushing the edge of the shield under the crate's lid, and cracking it open. Before he could reach you, you tossed the shield back to him and removed the splintered lid.

When your gaze found the glittering metal, you felt as though a little magpie had fluttered into your chest, your fingers achy to get a hold of the artifact.

"Don’t even think about it," he warned, pulling off the mask covering half his face.

You stared at him before sticking your hand inside the box and pulling out the necklace. Swinging the golden string from left to right, you stepped up to him; he was so weary of the thing between your fingers, he was close to lifting his shield and backing up as if it were a bomb. "Let's play a game."

"Let's not."

"Oh, let's," you grinned and pointed at the necklace dangling from your fingers when you were almost close enough for your chest to touch his. "If you find me, I'm gonna tell you what this baby does."

"What do you mea—" Before he could finish his sentence, the amulet flared in a bright glow. You gave him a slight wave of the hand and disappeared behind a flash of light.

…

Steve was seething.

He had known you for a while now, and had gotten used to your shenanigans and reckless actions but by the lord – you using a magical artifact without any of you knowing anything about it, was like plopping the cherry on top of the things irking him about you.

To this day, he remembers each and every word thrown between him, Tony, and Nick Fury when they were about to make the decision whether you were going to be sent to the Raft – a maximum security underwater prison located near Ryker's Island – or join their team.

Tony was all in on you joining the team from the moment he had spotted how much and how fast you were able to get on Steve's nerves. Fury had always had a thing for taking risks; some more calculated than others, for sure. And Steve had told them both off for having the worst idea of the century.

They had won.

And now, you were once again an assassin on the run, though now in possession of a magical artifact which, again, he had no knowledge of whatsoever. He could already hear Tony's taunts echoing in his ear targeting the lack of control he had over the Viper and how much Tony enjoyed watching it all play out. Steve also knew that Stark would once more comment on the redness threatening to overtake his face every time Steve was just a tad bit too close to you. Since you had joined the team, he hadn’t been able to hear the end of it.

Worst of it all; a small, reckless, idiotic part of him really did think you were the one for him – you, below all the wrongdoings in your life. Brave and strong and determined and confident.

Some of your traits reminded him of… He shook his head and cleared his throat as he hurried down the jet's ramp in front of the Avengers Compound. You had turned off your location device again, so Steve had no idea of how to find you; he would be forced to consult Tony on the matter and admit his inability to keep you in line. In the elevator, he went over what he would tell Tony in his head, though when the ding sound came and he stepped out, Steve's eyes landed on you. Not hurt, not gone not a thief – well, perhaps a little bit of a thief – but happy, drink in hand and laughing together with the billionaire himself. And by the looks of it, you had gotten your shower, too.

When your gaze landed on him, a sly smirk spread on your lips. You whispered something to Tony so low that not even Steve's enhanced hearing could pick it up before you emptied your drink in one swig. Pushing off the bar stool, you sauntered over to him. "Congratulations, you found me."

"Where is it?"

Flicking your hand, the chain fell from your sleeve, which you swiftly caught between your fingers. "The Amulet of Abaddon." You tossed it to him. "Useful for teleporting." Smiling you turned, striding past him and up the small set of stairs leading to the private quarters.

Tony snorted into his glass of scotch, taking a delighted sip. "Seeing how much of a sucker you are, is genuinely painful, Cap." He gulped down the rest of his drink. "Anyway, I gotta pick up Pepper. Date night." Showing off his pearly whites, the billionaire came up to him. "We're flying out to Tokyo. Maybe I can get someone there to make you a life-size puppet of her. No back-talk, how about it?"

"Stark," he warned with a sigh only to receive a few dismissive slaps on the shoulder in passing. After telling FRIDAY to notify Natasha of the artifact's safety and call Damage Control to come pick it up, Steve went to find you in your room. Your empty room, as he found. Rolling his eyes at you for being intentionally difficult, he made his way to the training hall. From afar he could hear some song playing that he didn’t recognize.

You stood inside, in front of a counter filled with blades in various shapes. Where Natasha preferred her gun and Clint his arrows, you found the simpleness of a blade and its swift deadliness to be the weapon best fitting for you. Steve swallowed as he took notice of the curve of your bare neck and how low your shirt was hanging in the back, giving him a view of the heavy scarring. Still, he couldn’t help but want to be able to explore every other inch of you; discover what else you were hiding.

"Took you long enough," you teased, picking up another throwing knife and eyeing the other dozen of them already sticking out of the human-shaped target.

"What were you thinking?"

Clicking your tongue, you hurled the knife at the target with such force the tip bored itself into the handle of another, right between the target's eyes. You gave an idle shrug. "Damn, that's hella shiny. Imma take it."

He sighed to himself. By now, he should have been expecting such answers from you. "You said you would tell me everything you knew about it. So, tell me."

"I did," you countered and leaned against the counter, looking at him. "It's called the Amulet of Abaddon. It teleports stuff."

"What else?"

"I have no idea, Steven. Why don't you play with it a little and find out?"

"You said it wasn’t dangerous!" He barked. "Now you're telling me you don’t even know what it can do!"

You hummed and scrunched up your nose. "You sure about that, Steve? 'Cause I don’t remember saying anything like that." Grasping another knife from the table, you brought your body back to face the target. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I just told you to stop being silly." The knife was picked from between your fingers as you made to throw it. You huffed; your flat hand slapping against your thigh in disappointment. Whirling around, you were ready to wring the knife from him, though you halted as you detected him in such near proximity. Silly you found yourself to be as your breath was close to hitching in your throat at him towering over you.

"I'm pulling you from the field."

With a clenching jaw, you bit your tongue. "Fine. But if you think that’s going to keep me from searching, you are wrong."

"You can’t just—"

"I can, Steve." Frustration zipped through you as your fingers found your scalp. "Why is it that nobody questioned Natasha when she went after Dreykov? I'm trying to do the exact same thing!"

"No, you aren't. You are killing people without regard for what is right or wrong."

"God," you laughed and shook your head. "You know what, Steve, let's see who these people really were that you were so concerned about, yeah?" You slipped out from between the table and him, going for the large screen on the wall. Locking into the right accounts and checking the data you had prepared, you pulled the information out on a hologram. "Let's start with the two that I let live. Dimitri Petrov and his brother Mikael both Russian military and both bombers of hospitals and airports. Arseny Fedorov, whom I had to dig really deep for and the first person whose throat I slit back there, is known for flaying his victims alive." You noted Steve growing uncomfortable behind you, shifting and flinching as you pulled up the next file. "That one you're gonna like. Makar Belov, also known as The Oculist." You turned to glare at him. "You wanna know why they called him that?"

He stared back at you. "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you want me to do? Apologize?"

At his question, your glare fell from his blue orbs to the damn perfect curve of his lips. You felt your heart rhythm pick up as his gaze traveled across your face as if it was the first time, he was allowing himself to do so. Before you knew what you were doing, you were on your tippy toes with your lips catching his. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer, as his hand fell to your hips, gripping you tightly against him. His hands found a trail downward before he lifted you with the ease of a super-soldier.

He took a few abrupt steps forward, causing your back to collide with the cool wall. You gasped in surprise but his lips were back on yours in a messy kiss, tongue grazing over your own. Your hands fell off his shoulders, hastily working to tug at the zipper of his uniform, longing to feel the strongness of his body against yours. In every fiber of your body, you could feel his want echoing as if it were your own.

The thought slipped from your mind as your hand slid under his uniform to push it from his body. For a moment his lips strayed from yours, one arm beneath you and the other pressed against the wall next to your head. Your back arched trying to get closer to him as his lips traveled down your cheek – down your neck until he pulled you off the wall and walked down the hall with precise steps. Upon crossing the threshold of his bedroom, you stopped caring where he took you. You didn’t care that only minutes prior you were close to stabbing him out of anger and didn’t care that this was merely an attempt for the both of you to relieve the tension that had been lingering in the air ever since you had met.

Your back hit the soft mattress, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. He stopped and turned his questioning gaze on you. You gave a nod, making his eyes drop from yours as he swiftly pulled the fabric from your legs. Your fingers found their way into his freshly cut hair, while his rough fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh. Locking your legs around his, you gave a forceful shove to turn him onto his back.

You had spent many years training to throw around burly men as though they were nothing more than play dolls; a super-soldier was only a small challenge. You bent down, kissing him before pulling back with a grin. "Do you like it," you hushed against his lips, "When I kiss you, Captain?" Not granting him the pleasure once more, you hovered over his lips, waiting for him to give in first – testing him. He sat up then, hand grabbing your thigh as he guided you closer. Your chests were pressed together as you bumped your nose against his, eyes falling from his to his lips.

He lunged forward them, to lock your lips together in a heated kiss, groaning into your mouth when feeling your tongue gliding heatedly against his. His large palms groping their way along your body sent arousal creeping to your core. You couldn’t help but move against his hardness, your core hot and aching for some kind of relief. He groaned, causing you to repeat your actions, pressing down more firmly this time. His rough hands slid from where they had been gripping your thighs to your behind, encouraging you to grin down harder.

You gasped against his lips, pleasure zipping from your center to the tips of your toes, grinning as he growled lowly. "Do you want me, Cap?" You teased. Instead of answering, a hand locked around your throat, pushing you off him and into the mattress. Surprised your hand went to clutch his wrist as he lifted you by the neck to press another kiss to your lips. His other hand traveled to the hem of your panties, ripping them away as if they were no more than a thin piece of paper.

He carelessly tossed the broken garment aside, leaving you completely exposed to him. Kisses were placed up from your stomach to the skin between your chest until he reached your lips again. He took his time to enter you, leaving behind a stinging sensation brought on by his size. His body moved against yours, muscular abdomen tight against the soft flesh of yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

You leaned towards his ear and smiled. "Where are your morals now, Captain?"

#steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #the avengers #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #bucky barnes x reader

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lvlyghost · 2 years

Text

Call of Duty Headcanons: Vol II ✨

How they’d react to their civilian s/o getting hurt

Pairings: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Civilian!Reader

Tw: blood, injuries, angst. simon is mad, whiskey and shooting?, strong language & probably more 😮‍💨 lots of grammar mistakes; you name it🐸

A/N: so here’s the second part!❣️ and ofc it’s our baby ghost! Please remember that english is not my first language, corrections are appreciated 🫶🏻✨Enjoy!🌷

Vol I✨ Vol III✨ Vol IV✨

“I promise we’ll leave super soon! You won’t even notice we left the house.” You had said, smiling widely to Simon.

He scoffed but followed you inside the bar still not convinced. Why couldn’t you accept the plan of tea and bed? Rolled his eyes.

He just wanted to stay home but he could never say no to you. And of course you ordered some sweet cocktail when you both took a seat right in front of the barman.

“Whiskey.” He growled. You shoot him a glare and he just shrugged.

“So grumpy.” You teased him.

Things went sideways too fast.

If only he had been more aware of his surroundings, if only he had never let his guard down, if only he had fixed his eyes at the door… he would’ve seen the shooter coming.

But no. He was completely in awe watching you, hearing you talking about that one party with your co-workers that had gone terribly wrong.

You were laughing. And bloody fucking hell he adored your laughter. His eyes never left yours, cheeks blushing all because of the alcohol. You were never good at drinking.

And now he was rushing to your body, drenched in blood, gasping for air. Two bullet wounds, one on your shoulder blade, another one on your arm.

Simon yelled your name. You could hear the panic in his gruffy voice. “Hey! Hey sweetheart, stay with me…” he urged you. His eyes are wide in shock, horror at the sight. His girl. That was his fucking girl the man had shoot at. Simon sucked in a breath when he tried to apply some pressure on both of your wounds. “I must do it, love. Please, hang in there. Everything’s gonna be okay, I’m right here, take a deep breath for me would ya’?… atta girl.” He said, when you did. Voice soft, he was trying to make you feel calm.

God if only he could stay calm! His heart was racing, he’d feel the thrum in his ears. You were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Si-Simon?” You stuttered. “I’m cold.”

He felt it. Felt the way your body was shaking under his hands.

“I know,” a painful whine left your lips. “I know!” He nearly cried at the sound of it.

“Fuck! Call a fucking ambulance now!” He shouted, at the people who were running all over the place, scared, crying, panicking.

Simon never wanted to hear you make a sound like that ever again. He’d take your place in a heartbeat. He’d do anything for you if it meant you’d be safe.

Sell his own soul? Done

Rip his heart out? Done

When you brought one of your tiny hands and placed it on his hulking bicep he almost lost it.

He never wants to see you go through that again. This was where you were supposed to be safe. By his side. Enjoying a normal life. This wasn’t the army. Simon swore nothing like this could happen, let alone to you.

He swallowed the burning lump in his throat. And in that very moment he made a silent promise. He’d find the bloody bastard and make him pay.

Pushing a strand of hair out of your face he caressed your cheek so delicately as if somehow you’d break under his soft touch.

“I know what you’re gonna say…” you found the strength to smile. Even then and there, whatever may come… you were with the man you loved the most.

“We should’ve fucking stayed home.”

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cakerybakery · 1 month

Text

Shots rang out. Adam dove behind a busted section of wall in the street. He pressed himself against the rubble. People were running and screaming and he wished he was one of them. He needed to go, he needed to get out of the shooter’s range.

Adam was halfway up when he was yanked to the ground and he heard the shot. Saw the mark in the asphalt.

“You fucking insane? Keep your head down. Fucking fanatics got some holy bullets. You won’t get back up if you’re hit.”

From the ground he could see who just saved his brains. A sinner with multiple eyes and a bitchy tone.

“We need to get gone but if you stand up like that they’ll pick you off.” She crawled along the ground to the edge of the rubble.

He followed. She checked where to go next but Adam couldn’t resist the urge to check himself.

The pain tore through his arm and a silent scream from his throat as he fell to the ground.

Hell fucking sucked.

“What the fuck, man? You want those god cucks to splatter your brains across the fucking street?” She yanked him back to the protection of the wall. She looked him over most of her eyes. “You were hit? I didn’t hear- can you talk?”

Adam shook his head and tapped his throat.

“Great. Know any sign language? I’m rough but it’s better than nothing.”

Adam shook his head no. There was no need in heaven. Everyone was fixed. He cringed mentally at the word.

One of his sons, Jonah, had gone blind in an injury and when he died gained his sight back in heaven. He hated it when heaven borns talked about him like he had been worthless after he was blinded. How happy he must be that heaven fixed him.

She sighed, “Guess I’m picking up another stray. Stick with me okay? If we get separated…” she paused. Her many eyes focused on him and her main ones narrowed like she had a thought and was changing gears. “I got a place only a couple blocks away. You can read?”

Adam nodded. At least he could still nod and shake his head, he could do that much communicating.

“Beetle Manor. Apartment 303. Got it?”

He nodded.

“Okay. I think,” she peeked out, “they sto-“

The world was as quiet as his voice. Was it always so slow? It seemed to take forever for her body to hit the ground.

He turned her over, unable to believe what he knew. There was no denying the hole through one of her many eyes. Adam didn’t even know her name.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam x lucifer

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thespiritssaidso · 3 months

Text

Give Shawn the Dress, Dammit!

Summary: Basically the same as the episode Weekend Warriors except Shawn gets to wear the nurse’s outfit

Notes: I have no idea how the fuck a dress from the civil war is made, specifically one with hoops. I don’t know the structure. So give me some leniency here if I wrote the dress wrong.

Juliet left the car and trotted over to where Shawn and Gus were standing, one of whom was holding a dress. “Hey, what’s up guys?”

“Jules!” Shawn and Gus ran up to her. “You're going to get a call from a very irate Sally Reynolds saying two guys just drove by and stole her dress. Just ignore it, okay?”

She was extra confused now. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

Gus started explaining. “Sally was a target. Shawn’s gonna put on that dress, and wait for someone to shoot him.”

Shawn nodded along. “Yeah but- the plan sounds a lot better when you don’t say it like that.”

“What?”

“Listen, detective.” Shawn turned back to Juliet. “We have reason to believe that the intended target was Sally Reynolds. Now we’ve stolen her dress,” he held up said dress, “we’re gonna catch the yellow-bellied son-of-a-bitch red handed.” He paused to take a breath. “I forced the ending, that’s horrible.”

“So, risking getting shot is the only way to solve the case?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then we should stop the battle!”

“No, we can’t. It’s too late. They’re gonna start in less than a minute. Listen, Juliet…please let us go?” They’re both bouncing on the balls of their feet in anticipation.

Juliet doesn’t say anything, mulling over her choices in her head.

After a minute or two of tense silence, she wordlessly marched to the back door of the car she came in and opened it, rummaging around for something. When she resurfaced she had a bullet proof vest. “If you’re going out there, you might as well be protected.”

——————

“Breathe out, loosen up.”

“Ow ow ow ow!”

“Sorry Shawn!”

“No no, it’s fine, this wasn’t exactly made to fit me. Now just zip- AGH!”

“Sorry!”

“Is it done yet? Please tell me it’s done.”

“You’re all good.” Juliet patted the zipper on his back.

Shawn straightened up, and tried to take a breath. It was difficult, and it made him feel like he was back in high school, wearing his binder. It wasn’t a terrible thing to remember. But it wasn’t exactly a fond memory either.

“Here.” Juliet handed him a helmet. He shoved the it on, fumbling a bit with the buckle.

Gus grabbed Shawn by the shoulders. “Alright remember, the fifth cannon boom is your cue to shoot whoever's playing Quantrill.”

“Right.” Shawn nodded, but then gave his friend a strange look. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I read the manual. Didn’t you?”

“I didn’t open the manual, it was like War and Peace. There were seventeen chapters.”

“It’s the manual, Shawn.”

“It was this thick!” He held up his hands roughly 6 inches apart, emphasizing the sheer size of it.

“Guys!”

“Right, sorry Jules.”

She just shook her head, and started helping Shawn tie the bonnet.

“Shawn, please be careful.”

“And don’t die.”

“Gus!”

“What? I don’t want my best friend to die!”

Shawn just began to ignore them at this point, and started talking to himself. “Okay. Okay. You got this you got this you got this.”

As the fifth canon went off, he shot out of the tent, grabbing the bayonet from the table nearby and running to his spot. Shawn hefted the gun up to his shoulder, and aimed at the new actor standing in as Captain Quantrill.

“It’s just a reenactment. It’s not real. You’re not actually shooting that guy.” he muttered to, hyping himself up as he pulled the trigger.

Pow!

The captain dramatically fell, and rolled down the side of the hill like in the rehearsal.

Shawn quickly looked to the tree, checking to see if the shooter had come back. There was no one. That was odd. He looked at the trunk where Gus and Juliet were standing. They seemed just as confused as he was.

He hitched the skirts and jogged back over to them. “Did you see anything?”

Gus shook his head no. “Nothing.”

Juliet cocked her gun. “I’m gonna double check the nurse’s tent. You two stay put.”

As she ran off, Shawn said, “That’s weird. Nobody came.”

“Well, at least you’re out of danger now.”

They both turn to walk back to the med tent, but Gus kicks something. He freezes, as does Shawn. He kicks it again, hearing a metallic clang. They share a look with each other and begin brushing off grass to reveal a manhole cover.

Shawn tilted his head. “Well I wonder where this leads.”

They grabbed the handle, straining themselves while moving it oh so slowly. When they got it off, Gus noticed something crucial that would hinder them. “Isn’t that gonna get in the way?” Gus pointed at Shawn’s dress, which was much wider than the manhole itself.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shawn put his hand to his chin in a thinking gesture.

“Then take it off.”

“Dude, I am not taking this off, it took too long to put on!”

“Well figure something out!”

Shawn thought for a minute, then had an idea. He dug through the little pockets of the dress and grabbed his Swiss knife, and started cutting little holes in the fabric and ripping the metal hoops out.

The end result was a — somewhat — regular dress, though it was a bit longer than before. “Alright, let’s go!”

——————

Behind one of the grey tents, another manhole cover was lifted up from underneath. Shawn peaked out, taking in his surroundings before hefting himself completely out.

“Watch your head.” The plumage of Gus’ feather hat pokes out. Shawn grimaced when he noticed a bit of… something on it. “Aw, did you get sewage on your feather?”

Gus doesn’t respond, simply climbing up and out of the hole. They both shuffle over to the tent, peering around it.

“We’ve crossed to the other side of the creek bed!” Gus pointed out.

“The police accounted for all the Union soldiers, but nobody’s considered that the murderer could have come from this side. After all, this was the bad side, right?”

“You know that’s right.”

Shawn looks over to the tent flap, and swiftly snuck inside of it with Gus close behind. Immediately, Shawn found something.

“Now, I ask you: who goes out on the battlefield without their boots?”

Gus shrugged. “Maybe someone has bunions.”

Shawn gave him a disbelieving look. “Bunions, Gus? Really? That's what you're bringing to the table? I'm trying to solve a murder here.” His bonnet and helmet were really starting to squeeze his head, and it was giving him a migraine. Shawn untied the bonnet and helmet, setting them down on the little table as well as the boots. It wasn’t like he would need them anymore. Besides, they were ruining his hair. He began rummaging underneath the table.

“I deal with bunions every day at work, Shawn. They hurt. They hurt people. That's a perfectly logical assumption.”

“Oh yeah? What about this?” With a little flourish, Shawn grabbed a uniform and presented it to Gus. “No tunic!”

Gus snatched the uniform from Shawn and inspected it. He held it up to himself as he said, “This is Mahoney’s!”

Shawn looked closer at the uniform, and a lightbulb went off in his head. He dug through the dress pockets once more, fishing out the brass button from earlier and held it up to the coat, where there were two small holes placed exactly where a button would go.

“The brass button.” Shawn muttered.

“Mahoney did it.” Gus whispered.

They both started jumping up and down, stimming from excitement.

“That’s why he had that sticky musket! He must have got sap on it from that notch in the tree!”

“Woah woah this doesn’t track. Why kill Sally? She’s hot. They’re friends. She even wrote his insurance policy-“

Shawn’s interrupted by a loud BANG. They both flinch a bit at the sudden explosion.

“That was C-4!” Gus pointed out.

“That didn’t come from the battlefield, it came from the south.”

Shawn and Gus instantly come to the same conclusion at the same time. They looked at each other in the eyes, confirming it.

“I solved the crime!”

“No, I did!”

“I said it first.”

“I identified the uniform.”

“I found the button near the tree,” Shawn quickly reached out and tapped Gus’ shoulder twice. “Tap tap no take backs.”

“That's not fair, Shawn. I was identifying the C-4 sound.”

“Dude, you snooze you lose, Gus. I don't have to tell you.”

Gus, frustrated, starting shoving his plumed hat up and down on his head.

Shawn pointed back outside the tent. “That manhole we found connects to the sewer. It's going to lead us right to our killer. Let's go.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! We're going in by ourselves?”

“What, are you crazy?”

Shawn and Gus quickly rushed out of the tent and- well, I’m sure you know how the rest goes.

They find Mahoney stealing his own artifacts and confront him — with some help from the reenactment soldiers— and take him to the station where Shawn figured out that it was not only Mahoney but Sally as well. The two had been attempting insurance fraud. But Mahoney didn’t want to share, so he tried to kill Sally. Poe rolls past his mark, sees Mahoney in the act, and is murdered. Case closed.

——————

It was late in the evening, and the sun was starting to set. Shawn was running to the many tents that had yet to be put away. He had forgotten his Gameboy there, and had to convince Gus to drive him back in the Blueberry to go grab it. He just hoped no one had nabbed it while he was gone.

Shawn still hadn’t taken off the dress. Really, it had just slipped his mind. But he had noticed he was still wearing it at least an hour ago, and realized he didn’t actually want to take it off. It felt… nice, wearing it. Except for the bullet proof vest. That he could do without. He changed out of the vest and voila: comfy-ish dress.

He was exiting one of the tents, Gameboy in hand, when he noticed Lassiter. The detective was still in costume, meandering around the battlefield.

“Lassie!” Shawn started jogging over to the man.

He watched as Lassiter’s shoulders slumped, and turn around to face him. “What are you doing here, Spencer?” His voice didn’t have its usual bite to it, just sounded a bit… tired.

“Oh, I needed to grab my Gameboy — which I found-” he waved it around for emphasis. “-in one of the tents. But this looks more fun!” That was a lie. Walking around aimlessly sounded boring to Shawn. But he wanted to spend some time with Lassiter, boring be damned.

He just gave Shawn a resigned sigh. “I don’t suppose I could stop you, anyway.”

Shawn gave him a big grin, and began walking alongside him.

“Spencer, why in the world are you still wearing that dress?”

“Why are you still wearing your uniform?”

Lassiter huffed. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

Shawn just shrugged. “Alright then.”

“It’s just- isn’t that… uncomfortable? There’s no way that fits you.”

He smiled to himself. “Nah, it’s not really too bad. I took off the bullet proof vest, so it’s not too tight. Brings back memories, actually.”

Now Lassiter was confused. “Memories? What, did you try wearing dresses or something in high school?”

Shawn could’ve taken offense to that. But he decided not to, opting to shake his head no. “Just reminds me of a time when I had to wear a binder to even look half this good.”

Not knowing what else to say, Lassiter let out a small “Oh,” and didn’t add anything else.

“‘Course, the binder was a different kind of…” Shawn gestured to his chest as he said this. “…tight. But it’s the same idea.”

They fell into silence, taking in their surroundings. The sky was pinkish, blending beautifully into purple and blue. The clouds were colored a soft coral pink and cream orange. The air was slowly filled with a soft euphony of various sounds. Crickets chirping, frogs croaking, the whistle of a gentle breeze rustling the long grasses.

Shawn breaks the quiet. “You know, I did a little bit of reading earlier-”

Lassiter scoffed at that. “You? Reading? Please.”

“As strange as that sounds, yes. I did. It was awful, zero stars, do not recommend. There were all these big words- and don’t even get me started on the lack of pictures-”

“Get to the point, Spencer.”

“Right. Yeah. So, I was reading about your great-great-grandfather, Colonel Muskrat-”

“It’s Colonel Muscum T. Lassiter.”

“-I’ve heard it both ways.” He was getting sidetracked. “That guy, who you’re dressed up as, I got curious-”

“Mhm.”

“-and I noticed there was a page in there about him and the… uhh, the nurse, the one I’m dressed up as-”

“Sally Reynolds.”

Shawn raised his eyebrows. “No kidding? That’s her name? That is a huge coincidence.”

“Yes, it is. Now what about her?”

“Right right right. There was a page in there about those two.”

Lassiter didn’t know where this was going. “…Go on.”

“And uhm, apparently, after the war they got together. And eventually married.”

They stopped walking, and Lassiter turned to stare at Shawn. “If you’re insinuating what I think you are, it’s gonna be a hard no. Not in a million years.” He quickly returned to his stride, leaving Shawn standing there.

Wow. Oh, wow. That- that actually kind of hurt. Shawn shook his head, and quickly jogged to catch up with Lassiter.

“Why-”

“Spencer,” Lassiter stopped walking again, halting Shawn’s little run. “Don’t take this the wrong way- actually, take this any way you want: I would rather reenact the civil war stark naked than go on a date with you.”

Woah. Okay, that hurt him even more. But Shawn hid this expertly under a nonchalant grin. “Now that I would pay to see.”

Lassiter gave a mocking smile. “Haha. It’s still no.”

Surprisingly, Shawn didn’t keep pressuring him. He just raised his hands in defense. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Not going to think about it-?”

“Spencer.”

“Even a little bit-?”

“If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to shoot you.”

He put his hands behind his back, walking backwards. “Okay, Lassie. Let me know when you change your mind.”

“You mean if I change my mind.”

“Sure, sure. Yeah. Whatever you say.” Shawn turned, hitching up his skirts, and ran off to where he knew the blueberry was waiting for him.

——————

AO3 link

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