#metal gear series one shot

[sillyfriendssharingablog]

If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you

[ihavethedreamies]

Heat | Wonwoo

Jeon Wonwoo - Seventeen

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~8.7k

Pairing: Wonwoo x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Acquaintances-to-Lovers, This One Actually Has Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Minor Background Character Gets Shot (Wow! Plot), Pet Names (Pretty, Pretty Girl, Princess, etc.), Daddy Kink (oops), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Wall Sex, Marking/Biting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!)

Author's Note: This one has way more actual story than Hoshi's and Woozi's. Wonwoo tends to need time to warm up to people, so I didn't feel like I should do a quick one-night stand deal with him. So, I wrote in some story so he and the reader weren't total strangers.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"You have GOT to be kidding me…" You grumbled, huffing a few harsh breaths, and trying again. There was something stuck under the sand, and you really wanted to see if it was worth anything. However, every time you got close to brushing enough sand from the surface to see the logo, a gust of wind would cover it back up again. Adjusting your head covering over your mouth again so you got no sand in your mouth, you also brushed off your goggles of the fine particles sticking to it. You were starting to work up a sweat, the blowing dust and sand mixed with the perspiration and was coating you in a horribly scratchy paste. Whatever was under the sand was big, and that was what you were looking for. However, you really needed to determine the make and model of the crashed ship to determine if it was worth reporting for salvage.

"Finally!" You groaned, getting the metal brushed clean. You quickly snapped a photo with your holo-tracker, the blue paint still relatively solid, enough to identify. The device spun, trying to connect to the extranet and you clicked your tongue as it took for seemingly forever.

"What?!" You swore multiple times when the device flashed, 'no results found'. Maybe you could show it to someone at the Assembly office that would know something. You already had a few pictures and coordinates of a few smaller wrecks you could report, but they probably wouldn't grant very many credits. This thing was huge though, so at least the scrap metal would be worth something. Another blast of wind nearly knocked you over as you stood back up, trying to climb out of the small crater to get back to your rover. The crappy thing about wrecks on Sierra-Vector-Tango, since the entire planet was a desert, is that they were quickly covered by sand; even if they created massive craters when they fell to the surface. However, that meant more money for finding salvage than some other planets. Bad thing? Sand worms. Their saliva got into the particles and could make it acidic, which made digging through the sand more dangerous. This, once again, caused the number of credits to be higher.

"Let’s go back for now." You jerked back with your whole body weight as you pulled the handle for the door of your rover. It finally opened and you huffed, throwing the end of your head scarf aggressively to wrap it around your neck better. Crawling up and into your rover, you rested back in the seat, trying to catch your breath.  Pressing the button to start the vehicle it roared to life and the air conditioning flared to life and you just sat in the cooling air for a few minutes.

"Water!" You gasped dramatically, grabbing your canteen from the passenger seat, and drinking so aggressively the liquid spilled out of your mouth some.

"For fuck's sake…" You groaned hard, the water mixing with the layer of sand on your skin, thickening it.

"I need a real shower, with water." Shifting the gear of the rover, you started to drive back to the main road so you could start heading to the nearest Assembly office. It would be about an hour to Drent, and a little under two for Jaron, but you really didn't like going to Drent. Not only did it have the name of some dude-bro fuck boy, but it was also full of them too. Drent had one of the biggest…adult establishments in that quadrant. Not only did they have sexy blue alien ladies dancing on tables, but it also allowed you to sleep with them. Last time you went you nearly got mugged, and the guy just wanted your underwear. No thank you. Jaron was farther away, but a much nicer place and had a very old-style diner reminiscent of Terra from the 1950s. It was cool to go somewhere that was reminiscent of a time over two-hundred years in the past. Plus, they had a hotel with real water showers instead of the air-blasting kind that was more common. It would be more expensive, but worth it.

"This time I wanna rock with you~" You sang along to the song playing over the speakers, drumming your hands on the steering wheel of your rover as you got back to the main road. Turning right to go north toward Jaron, you set the auto-pilot on and plugged in the town, sitting back to watch the view as your rover drove itself. When you could start to see the sign for the town, you shut the auto-drive off and took control again. Large vehicles like yours weren't allowed in the city proper, so when you reached the entry checkpoint, you pulled off to the side and got out. The sun was setting, nearly below the horizon, stars starting to twinkle in the night sky. Getting out of the rover, you slammed the door as hard as you could to get it to shut and went around to the back. Grabbing your big pack and smaller bag, you also had a make-shift safe that you kept smaller salvage pieces in. You let it fall to the sandy ground with a thud and jumped back out. Keying in the code on the side, the rover beeped as it locked, and you headed to the entry booth.

"How old is your rover?" The kid at the booth was at the most eighteen, and his condescending tone was completely unnecessary.

"Doesn't matter." You tried not to steer, slapping your credit chit on the counter and he slotted it into the console. He really had no room to talk, his setup was just as old if not more so than you rover. Sliding the chit back out, he grabbed a small holo-disc and let the machine stamp it with the time and date.

"Thank you." You emphasized with fake kindness, and he rolled his eyes as he let you into the town. You let the parking disc fall into your bag along with your credit chit and started to head down the road. Your 'safe' was basically a suitcase that you made more secure and added a few locks to, so you could roll it behind you. The wheels thunked over the creases of the pavement and you wondered why the town was so dead. At that time, most people would be milling about after supper and going to bars and such. As you passed a store, you saw a sign blinking on the glass advertising some kind of political rally, must be where everyone was at. At least the hotel was still being manned, though you weren't sure the old man behind the counter was even still alive.

"Hello, dearie." He smiled up at you, wrinkles so prominent his eyes nearly disappeared.

"Hello, sir. Can I get a single room for…" You thought, sucking air through the side of your mouth in thought, "how much is four nights?"

"At 250 credits a night, that would be about a thousand…If you stay one more night, I will keep it that price?"

"Sweet! Thanks!" You smiled back, digging through your bag to look for the chit once again. It was a bit pricier than you normally liked, but it was worth it to get a shower with water.

"A single bed, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"I think we only have two-bed rooms…this one is two singles, does that work?"

"Sure!"

"Water shower?"

"Please~" You groaned, and he chuckled.

"It is quite slow today for the rally, so I do not think any restaurants are delivering…" The old man worked faster than you thought he would and when he slid the chit back to you, he included the room key. It looked like a glass playing card and had the room 24H-13 on it.

"It will be the second floor, take a right to the fourth hall, then its room thirteen." The old man smiled, and you thanked him, heading for the elevator, the wheels whirling on the tile floor. Once you got to the room and inside, you put everything in the room hastily before dashing into the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you shed the extremely sandy clothes and you noticed what looked like an old-style clothes dryer in the corner. It only had two settings, one of which was covered with a piece of tape and the handwritten words, ‘FOR SAND,' on it.

"Perfect." You shrugged and shoved all of your clothes in the drum, shutting the door, and letting it spin and get rid of the dust and grit.

"Oh~" You hummed in delight when you saw the water heating panel on the wall. You plugged in the best temperature and the water immediately came out perfect. Standing under the spray, you stood for nearly ten minutes just letting the water flow over your tired body. Glancing up at the shower head, you clicked your tongue in annoyance, it was fixed on the wall without a hose…

"Need to find a guy…" you grumbled and then proceeded to actually wash up. The soaps and cleansers all smelled of Terra fruits and you wondered what they might taste like. Getting out of the shower nearly an hour later, you wrapped a towel around yourself and your hair, heading back to the main room of the hotel. Flopping onto the bed, your stomach rumbled loudly, and you sighed dramatically. No delivery…The only place that was probably open was the diner and luckily it was right next door to the Assembly office in the strip mall. It was always open since the employees of the Assembly would eat there most of the time, but they never delivered anyway. When your skin finally no longer felt wet or sticky, you put on your set of spare clothes and grabbed your smaller bag.

"Sandy." you mumbled, going back to the bathroom, taking your now sand-free clothes out. Taking everything out of your bag and setting it on top of the machine, you put your bag in to get the sand off and while you waited, put your boots back on. As it continued, you brushed your hair out and braided it again. Looking at your face, you had a slight tan line from your goggles, but it was nearly unnoticeable thanks to your head scarf covering most of the rest of your face. The machine dinged and you retrieved the satchel, putting everything back and making sure you had your chit and keycard, you left the hotel room to go get supper. Waving to the old man at the desk, you dashed out to the street and jogged down the sidewalk. The rally was still going, you could hear the shouting and cheers in the distance. Must have been a more local election or campaign because you didn't recognize the politician on the flyer. Most of the store fronts were closed, even as you turned the corner to get to the main street. In the distance, you saw the light pouring out of the windows of the Assembly office and the diner, shining like a beacon among the darkened stores surrounding it. Like a good child, you looked both ways before you crossed the road, despite there not being anything or anyone nearby. The doors slid open when you approached the office and the guy behind the counter looked up lazily from where he was counting something at the desk.

"Can I help you?" He sounded very tired. You dug in your bag once again and pulled out your credit chit as well as your ID so he could see you were a legit scavenger, but also a freelancer. Freelancers actually tended to get more money than their own employees because they didn't have to pay benefits and all that other stuff.

"I'll let the Salvage Officer know you're here." The guy handed you your stuff back and you went to sit in the empty waiting area. Tapping your toe on the floor, you could look into the entrance of the diner through the windows and door inside the office. There was only one or two customers inside and just one waitress. There was a guy sitting in the back corner, thin glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read. A paper book? Who had physical books anymore?

"(Y/N)." Your name was called by a familiar voice, and you smiled at the owner.

"Junmyeon!" He motioned with his head, and you followed him into his personal office.

"Didn't know you were working here now." You sat in front of his desk, and he chuckled, relaxing back into his office chair.

"I just transferred. What have you found?" He took the holo-tracker from you when you handed it over and plugged it into his console.

"Most of them are small…" You dimpled the corner of your mouth, looking at the monitor the best you could from your angle. He shifted the screen so you could see better, and you pointed to different marks and gave more details.

"What one is this?" He was looking at the blue logo and you shrugged.

"I have no idea; it was huge though. Looked like a Meteor-class size ship, maybe bigger. It was totally covered and left a huge crater." You emphasized with hand motions, and he panned the picture out to get the measurements before he tapped the logo so the computer could analyze it. As it spun you dug through your bag, looking to see if you had lip balm or something. You didn't notice your business friend simply watching you, more like staring. His eyes flashed to your lips as you painted the balm on your lips with your ring finger. When the console dinged, it brought both of your attention back to the machine.

"Oh, wow." He leaned in to read the information.

"I need to make some calls, can you come back in a few hours?" He looked at you and you nodded, standing.

"I can grab something to eat in the meantime!" You waved goodbye and didn't even notice when he tried to call after you. Heading back to the front of the office, you went to the door leading to the diner and the door slid open with a ding.

"Just you, girlie?" The older waitress called from behind the counter, and you nodded, going to sit at said counter.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, sassily chewing her gum. You looked over the menu and made your choice, pulling out your holo-tracker to play a game as you waited for your food. You glanced over to the back corner over your shoulder, looking at the guy reading.

"Who is that?" you asked the waitress when she came back with your drink.

"He's been hanging around here for a few days. I'm not sure what he's doing, but I know he's waiting for something. The secretary in the office might know." She nodded back to where you had been, and you told her you would be right back. Leaving your bag on your stool to save your spot, you jogged back into the office and the guy at the desk cast you a tired glance.

"Who is that guy?" You pointed toward the back corner, leaning your elbows on the ledge of the front desk.

"He's a bounty hunter of some sort I believe. He is looking for someone for some reason, is waiting there for leads. He's offering money for any information." He shrugged and you nodded in acknowledgement and headed back to the eatery. Your food was ready by the time you got back, and the waitress chuckled at how fast you shoveled it in. When you were done, you handed her your chit and meandered on over to the guy.

"I heard you're looking for someone?" You started casually and he looked up at you over his glasses and your eyes widened. He was freaking gorgeous. His left eye was highlighted red, it seemed he had some kind of hologram-like contact in it or something. His black hair was styled half up, his bangs resting over his brow. He had a few ear piercings, his left nostril had a simple loop ring, and a matching one in the middle of his bottom lip. A chain hung around his neck with a pendant on the end that was some kind of upside-down triangle design. He simply hummed in response and put a slip of paper in his book and shut it, taking his glasses off. You sat on the end of the booth, a big gap between the two of you since he was sitting in the corner of the circular seat. He slid his holo-tracker across the table showing you a blurry image from some kind of security feed. It was a person, that was about all you could tell, and they had a hood up over their head and only the bottom part of their face was visible.

"This it?" You looked back at him, and he was sitting there stiffly, just looking at you. He was really hot, actually. He had on a tan, old-style button up with the top few buttons undone. His pants were a brown leather of some kind, and he had a belt on with an attached thigh-holster that held a pistol blaster.

"They stole some schematics. I need them back more than to find the person." He tapped the screen as he looked at it upside down and it showed a second image. The person had a cylinder with a strap hung over their back.

"It’s a set of old maps, they were stolen from the archives at the museum in the Capital." he explained and you slid your finger over the full image, zooming out to see the area.

"You a bounty hunter?" You slid the holo-tracker back to him and he put it back in his pocket.

"Not really. I'm a Ranger."

"You're a Ranger!?" You perked up and he seemed taken aback by your sudden excitement. Rangers were a small and elite group, they were essentially vigilantes, freelancers. They tended to do more things like rescues or arrests, or other odd jobs. They had a pretty strict rule of not killing.

"So, you want the maps but don't need the thief?"

"Yes. I would be nice to get both, though."

"Hm. I'll ask around and see, I travel quite a bit-"

"Scavenger?"

"Y-yeah." You chuckled nervously under his intense gaze.

"Be careful out there, if you get a lead, message me." He got his tracker back out and you scanned his with yours to save his ID.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"Wonwoo…"

"(Y/N)." You smiled and got up from the booth, going to retrieve your chit.

"I'll let you know!" You grinned and waved goodbye, heading back in. Your timing was perfect because Junmyeon was finished and he told you the first wrecks weren't worth a whole lot, but the last one was.

"Two million credits?!" You balked at the number.

"Yeah. Seems it was some kind of cargo vessel, and they think it might still have all of the packages on it still. You could get even more depending on what's inside." He smiled at your gawk, and you finally shut your mouth.

"Woah."

"I can get you the two million now-"

"Really!?"

"Yes." He chuckled and you dug your chit back out and he slid it into the console so he could transfer the credits.

"Shit…" you whispered, your hand shaking a bit as you took the chit back.

"Are…you staying in a hotel tonight?" Junmyeon asked as you scrolled on your holo-tracker, admiring the giant number registered in your account.

"Yeah! I might upgrade my room~" You giggled, and he took a breath, trying to psych himself up, but no words came out before you stood to leave.

"Thanks, Myeon! I'll make sure to come here when I can, kay?" You waved goodbye and he sighed as you dashed out of his office. As you left to head back to your hotel, you saw that Wonwoo had left his booth and you wondered why. Getting outside, you realized the rally had gotten out, floods of people now walking the streets, a big crowd heading toward the diner.

"Ew." You sneered at the globs of people and dashed back to the hotel. When you got in the lobby, you skipped up to the front counter, ready to ding the bell and call the nice old man out for assistance.

"Oh?" Someone was sitting in the lobby, a book in his hand.

"Ran away from all the people?" You spoke a bit louder so he could hear you and he glanced up over his glasses again. His face wasn't quite so cold as before, but he wasn't smiling either.

"Yes." His tone was also lighter.

"There's about to be a bunch more. The campaign team is staying here and will be back soon." The old man had come out of the office, and you sneered as he laughed.

"Are you staying here too?" you asked Wonwoo who had put his book away and was taking his glasses off.

"I hadn't checked in yet."

"We do not have any more rooms available, sir. We just had an influx of online reservations since the rally got out so late…" The old man sighed, and you hummed.

"I have a second single bed in my room…?" You suggested, not meeting his eye as he came to stand by you. He had a small duffle over his shoulder. His eyes finally met yours, and he seemed a little nervous, but you could only see it in his eyes, past that red glowing contact.

"Is that alright with you?"

"Yes? I wouldn't have offered otherwise…" You huffed and the old man hummed.

"Here, I will get you a key as well." You both waited and when Wonwoo received the clear keycard, you both scurried to elevator, people starting to enter the lobby. Neither of you said anything till you had shut the door to the hotel room.

"Are you sure this is okay?" you asked him, he was even stiffer than before.

"Y-yes." He cleared his throat, and he went further into the room, taking the bed near the window since your stuff was on the other one. He told you he was going to shower, and you nodded as he dashed past you. Sighing, you shook away some very impure thoughts, and went to your safe, rolling it over to the bench under the clothing rack and hauling it up onto it with a grunt. It took two physical keys as well as two padlocks and a dial lock. It clicked each one open and then you were able to open it. The air seal 'shunked' as you opened it, and you carefully rested the lid on the wall so it wouldn't scratch it. Looking over your objects, you had some small crystal-like artifacts that you worried were just fakes from some kind of gift shop. You also had some intact parts for ship consoles and even jewelry. There had been just a random case you found washed up on the shore of an oasis once that had gold and silver necklaces and rings inside. It was never reported missing, so you just kept them. Other bits and pieces were inside as well, and your mind went back to the image Wonwoo had showed you. The hood was what caught your eye. The person was experienced, knowing how to hide their face from all angles, so they were probably an experienced thief. Who would want ancient maps though? Especially from Terra.

"What is all that?" His deep voice startled you; you hadn't even heard the bathroom door open. Glancing up, you swallowed hard at the sight. He had put most of his clothes back on, but his shirt was still unbuttoned, allowing you to see his toned torso. He had flopped a towel onto his head to dry his hair and was putting his glasses back on. Trying to ignore how freaking sexy he was, you cleared your throat and started to point things out. When you got to the crystals, you let him put up the one that was shaped like a pyramid.

"I don’t know if they are worth anything, they might be fakes.”

"Have you shone light through them?" he asked, and you hadn't even thought of it.

"No?" He handed it back and you dug through your bag and found your flashlight, holding it to the crystal.

"Woah!" You gasped as a map of the stars shone on the ceiling as the light passed through the crystal.

"Is it worth anything?" you asked him. It was cool but could still theoretically be from a gift shop.

"The fakes have a button to turn on the light, that's the real deal. Where did you find them?" He was buttoning his shirt up, unfortunately, picking up the three other crystals and coming to sit on his bead across from you. There was a sphere, one that looked like a big diamond and an obelisk. You handed him the flashlight and he shined it through the other ones. The sphere showed a projection of a globe, but it wasn't S.V.T or even Terra.

"Mars." he muttered, and you looked closer, recognizing the small dots over the surface as the towers that held the barrier around the planet. The diamond one lit up a bright aqua blue, but that seemed to be all it did. The obelisk projected the time and date, but it seemed to be from Mars as well.

"I found them in some cave. How the heck did they get all the way out here?"

"Were these the only things in the cave?"

"Yeah…So even though they are legit, are they worth anything?

"Hm. Maybe to a collector. I can take them to the museum when I go back-" he halted, "If you're okay with it, I'll pay you back." If he wasn't a Ranger, you would be more hesitant to allow it, because he could just pocket the money. You didn't think he would though, not with the reputation of his group at stake otherwise.

"Sure." You shrugged and he took them and put them in his own pack, and you went back to your safe and locked it up.

"Thank you for letting me stay here." He called suddenly as you tried to figure out how the holo-screen worked and what channels there were.

"Sure. I'm not a fan of big groups of people and this is the best hotel in town." You smiled at him, going to hand him the remote.

"Oh, no, you can choose. I'll just read." You nodded and didn't press to continue the conversation. While it was quiet between you two, it was companionable and before you knew it, you had drifted off the sleep, listening to some show and the flipping of his book pages. When you awoke, he was gone, but it was like ten in the morning, and there was an unread message on your holo-tracker.

Sorry I left without saying goodbye. Thank you for letting me stay in your room for the night. I am heading back to the capital for now and will get your crystal projectors estimated. Please let me know if you get any leads on the map thief.  -Wonwoo

You sighed, a little disappointed he just left, but he seemed quite shy and closed off. Whatever. For the rest of the day and the next few you lazed about and did some fun things to spoil yourself after your big payout, enjoying your little vacation. Over the week afterwards you were having trouble finding anything significant and had stopped at a small tavern set up near a small oasis. You sat at the bar, laying on it dramatically. The bartender had moved the fan closer to you so it could blow straight on you as you lazily sipped from the straw in your fruity drink. You glanced casually at the entrance when another person entered, and you zeroed in on their face. They had a hood on, but that didn't mean it was for sure the person Wonwoo had been looking for. After he had gotten the money from the crystals, more than you thought but not a huge amount, he had sent you more information. It was a woman, presumably, and she was pretty tall and even always wore heeled boots. Your gaze shifted to their feet but couldn't see for sure and you couldn't even tell it was a woman. You and Wonwoo had actually been messaging some even past leads on the thief. You didn't have many friends and while he had the other rangers, he said it was nice to talk to someone new. As you sat at the bar, you watched her, pretending you weren't. You casually took out your holo-tracker and took a picture of the person as discreetly as you could, then headed out. You continued to wait and watch in your rover, ready to take a  picture of their vehicle when they left. You thought you knew which one it was, but didn't know for sure, so you waited till they came back out. They got in the one you had been eyeing, and so once they headed off, you sent the two pictures and a few more details to Wonwoo. He thanked you for the update, then asked where you were. He then told you to meet him in the next town of Falko, and since you were headed there anyway…

The town was much smaller than Jaron, so there was only one small motel, so it was easy to find where he was and get to his room. He was on the first floor in room three. You knocked and barely waited before he opened it. He was…smiling. You didn't know he could do that. You forgot how gorgeous he was.

"T-thanks." You smiled bashfully and followed him inside. It seemed he had been there awhile based on everything spread out across the room. There were a few consoles set up as well as tablets and other tech.

"What's going on in here?" You motioned around the room.

"While I'm looking for the map thief, I'm also trying to get the Ranger's new communication array set up. I'm making the program myself so it can't be hacked by outside sources." Wonwoo shrugged, moving various tablets from one of the beds so you could sit down. He sat at the small desk and turned to face you. He asked a few questions about the person you saw, and you gave him more details from the pictures. It wasn't a whole lot to go on, but if it was them, then he now had their vehicle information. Before you could talk past leads on the thief, his holo-tracker went off and he read the message. He sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"My partner is coming back. It might be better if you leave." He stood to lead you out and you grimaced.

"I-It's not…I just don't want him to meet you…" He mumbled and you wanted to press the issue. His cheeks were slightly red, and he flashed another genuine smile as you left the motel room.

"I'll let you know if the lead pans out." You nodded and before you could turn and leave, he had held something out for you.

"What's this?" You took the little holo-card.

"Um…it's my address. If you are ever in Ratalla…I won't be back home for a few more days, but I should be working from there after…" Wonwoo rubbed his hands on his pants, then shoved his hands in his pockets when you noticed.

"Thanks." You gave him your own smile, then left giddily.

Nearly another month passed before you saw him in person again, but you messaged back and forth quite a lot. There was once you were near his hometown, but he wasn't there, so you missed the chance of seeing him again.

You had been meeting with a repair man in a city called Guro; your rover hadn’t been driving straight. It seemed he would need it for a few days to even determine the issue, let alone what to do after. At least you were in a place with lots of activities. You had actually gotten another half a million credits from the giant wreck you found and had more funds than you knew what to do with. As you left the shop, looking up on the extranet for the nicest hotel, someone caught your eye. Despite the heat of the desert and the midday sun, there was someone slinking around with a hood on. You watched them, eyes glancing at their feet. Heeled boots. It was also a woman, and her height matched the parameters. There was even a cylinder vessel hung over her shoulder. It was her. The area had most warehouses, and she might have been meeting a buyer, so you decided to follow her. You sent Wonwoo a message with your coordinates to see if he could send someone by as well, or better yet, call some Guards. You trotted behind her, trying to stay out of sight and remain quiet. Hiding quickly around the corner, you watched her go into an unmarked warehouse after looking around for followers. Not well enough. The thief had gone in through a large open garage door, so it made it easy for you to follow. Crouching against the wall right near the edge of the door you peered around the corner and saw she was alone, probably waiting for someone. She glanced at her holo-tracker, then went further in, toward the garage door on the opposite side that opened to a scrap yard. Looking for another hiding place, you dashed forward and hid behind a column. When you peered around though, she was gone.

"Why are you following me?" A voice called from behind you, and you spun to see the thief, holding a pistol blaster aimed at you. Your heart fell and sweat broke out on your brow. Those maps must be really valuable if this person was willing to shoot you to prevent the interruption of the hand-off.

"I-I was just trying to figure out who-" The woman pulled back the hammer on the weapon and your stomach dropped.

"Shit!" You scrambled up and tried to at least get around the column when you saw her finger going to the trigger.

"Fuck!" You slammed your back against the column, seeing a smoking scorch mark on the ground.

"(Y/N)!" a familiar voice shouted, and you were shocked by Wonwoo's presence, distracting you.

"Stupid bitch!" The thief was back behind you, and you spun to see the gun nearly at your head. You yelped when something yanked you back and you fell into a hard body. Leaning into him, you watched in terror as the woman fell back onto the ground, a hole in her head. Then you noticed not only were you breathing hard, but so was he. He spun you around to look over you, his hands on your shoulders, one going to your jaw to adjust your head so he could look you over.

"Are you okay?" He was nearly frantic, his face and tone filled with panic.

"Y-yes." You weren't sure to be more surprised by his sudden appearance or the clear worry he had for you. It made your heart thud but for a much different reason. When he had finished looking over you and determined himself you were okay, Wonwoo pulled you into a hug. You returned the embrace, more trying to comfort him than anything.

"Fuck, I was worried." He sighed right in your ear, his deep voice rumbling through you.

"You were?" He pulled back enough so he could meet your eye and huffed.

"Of course. You didn't reply when I messaged you to stay away…" His hand went back to your jaw, his thumb brushing over the skin of your cheek, which was rapidly getting warm and red. When you met his eyes again your widened, he got close again and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Are you okay?" You chuckled a bit, kind of worried. He had never shown this level of emotion before.

"Yeah." Wonwoo pulled way, petting your hair then went to the body of the woman. You tried to avoid looking at her as he took the map holder from her and soon the Guard showed up. It was another good hour or maybe two before you both were finally allowed to leave after giving statements and answering questions.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" he asked you as you left the warehouse district.

"Not yet. I was just about to find a hotel when I saw her…" You drifted off, pointing with your thumb in the general direction of where you just were.

"I got a crap ton of money from a wreck I found so I was going to go somewhere fancy." You smiled wide and he gave you a smaller one. Wonwoo took a step closer, looking a bit nervous, his voice had a slight waver when he spoke.

"Wanna get a room together?"

From everything after he asked that question, till your back hit the door of your hotel room, it was a blur. As soon as the door closed, he had you pressed against it, his lips swallowing yours. His big hand was at the back of your head, making sure it didn't hit the wood of the door. You had gotten one of the deluxe suites of the nice hotel, so the bedroom was separate from the living area, and there was a small kitchen even. When your lungs started to burn for more air, he finally pulled his mouth from yours. As you caught your breath, just looking at each other, Wonwoo leaned into whisper in your ear, "I'm going to fuck you on every surface in this place." He promised. Your head swam at the statement and whined.

"Please~" As soon as he got permission, he grabbed turned you around, your front pressed to the door and his nose nuzzled behind your ear. You let him do as he wished, running his hands under your thin top, starting to suck on the skin in the crook of your neck. You were a bit worried about him having to stoop over so far since he was so much taller, but if he wasn't complaining, neither would you. You could tell he was marking your skin as he licked, sucked, and nibbled over your neck and shoulders. His hands quickly got your shirt off and as his hands danced over the skin of your stomach, you toed your boots off, shoving them to the side. Before he completely removed it, Wonwoo slipped his hands under your breast band, palming the flesh, making you shiver. Undoing the latch, he took the wrap off and it fell to the floor as well. Not turning around to see for sure, you heard more fabric rustling and assumed he was removing his own top. You sighed when his arms wrapped around you, holding your back to his bare chest, the right hand cupping your left breast, and his other hand skating over your stomach. He smiled at the whining moan you let out when his hand finally went into your pants, long fingers stroking the wet patch on your panties.

"So wet, pretty girl." He kissed behind your ear, fingers tweaking your nipple.

"Wonwoo~" You whimpered when his bare fingers finally met your folds and he groaned.

"Let's see how tight you are." Every time he rumbled words in your ear, it made your whole body shiver. Sighing when his finger slid inside, he huffed, his hips twitching as your gummy walls sucked his finger in. You could feel his hardening cock through his pants, pressing into your back side. When Wonwoo added a second finger, crooking them up and pressing hard into your back wall, your legs buckled, and the only reason you didn't fall was his arms around you.

"Need to get your pussy ready for me, pretty." He smiled against your neck when your groan faded into a whine.

"Fuck~" You practically cried as his palm dug into your clit and you were already close.

"No!" You gasped when his fingers left right as you were getting to the edge.

"Wonwoo?" He had pulled away entirely, you only knew he was still behind you because his hands were on the waist band of your pants. He pulled them along with your underwear down and kneeled behind you, helping you get them off without falling over.

"Hold on, pretty girl." While you weren’t sure what he was about to do, your fingers dug futilely into the wood of the door. Your breath escaped you when he, without real warning, shoved his tongue into your cunt, his thumb flicking your clit. Your legs immediately began to shake, a mewl escaping with each rapid breath. You were done for when his lips sealed around your clit, barely flicking with his tongue, and your nails dug into the wood as you released on his tongue. He chuckled, your cunt dripping release onto the floor.

"Gonna have to clean this place good…" You joked, breathless and he laughed harder. Wonwoo hummed, standing back up. There was more shuffling as you rested against the door panting. You sighed when his arms came back to you, pulling you back into his now completely naked body. His cock was wedged in the crook of your ass, and you swore under your breath, why was he so freaking big? He was tall and his shoulders were broad, and apparently had to have a fat cock as well.

"Fuck!" You groaned when the head of his cock went to the entrance of your core. One of his arms wrapped around your ribs, the hand resting under your breast, and the other was at your hip.

"Ready?" His tone had shifted, it was playful and cocky, a slight laugh accompanied the word.

"Please!" You gasped as he started to push in, your legs shook as his dick stretched you open. You hadn't been fucked in a long time, and longer still fucked good. You panted out little whines as he kept filling you, and it seemed like he was going to end up in your throat. Your whole body was trembling when he finally bottomed out, his strong hips pressed against your ass.

"God, your cunt feels so good, princess." His groan rumbled through both of you. You couldn't see, but his head was thrown back, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to get used to how tight you were. When he realized you were on your tip toes trying to compensate for the height difference, he shifted to ease the strain. He backed up so you could lean forward more, and he angled his hips down. Your feet were no longer burning, and his new angle seemed to get him even deeper somehow. Your cunt was burning too, trying to accommodate his size, slick walls fluttering from the stimulation. He had still barely moved, letting you adjust, but you were growing close again.

"Move…" Your request was so quiet. You were trying not to moan like a bitch in heat even though that was exactly how you felt.

"Slow? Fast?"

"Fuck- Wonwoo, just-" He pulled out about halfway and thrust back in, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. You both moaned, his hands left their original positions to grip the flesh of your ass and he chuckled when you nearly sobbed as he started. Only pulling out part of the way, he would fuck back into you hard, grinding his pubic bone into you each time.

"Fucking hell, Wonwoo~" You ended up back on your toes just from the pleasure and you hoped they wouldn't fine you too bad for the scratches your nails were carving into the wood. All your breath got fucked out of you when he finally gave a full thrust, your orgasm slamming into you.

"Shit-" Wonwoo grunted when your already tight cunt squeezed him even more, he had to slow down just to keep himself from cumming as well. He smirked, watching your fingers twitch as you clawed the door, your head flopped forward between your shoulders.

"No, no, no!" You babbled as he pulled out all the way, huffing in amusement at your whining.

"Come here, pretty." Wonwoo easily lifted you, somewhere between like a sack of potatoes and a princess. Your head was still swimming from your orgasm, so the move to the next location was a bit blurry. You shivered and mewled when he set you on the counter that was in the mini kitchen of the suite, the marble very cold on your bare thighs and pussy. He laughed at your yelp when he pulled you, so your butt was right at the end of the counter, and didn't hesitate to bury himself back into you. The thrust was harsher and faster than the first and your hands flew to his shoulders to steady yourself as he restarted the brutal rhythm that he was fucking you against the door with. The man groaned when your nails dug into his skin instead of the wood, so he decided to mark you himself.

"Wonwoo~" Your voice wavered, eyes starting to tear up at the feeling of him fucking your brains out. His mouth went to your own shoulder, at the base of your neck. He started with open mouth kisses, then sucked the skin before lightly sinking his teeth in. He could feel your whimper against your throat, and you felt his responding hum from his lips. Wonwoo tightened his grip as well, wanting to leave bruises shaped like his hands on your skin. He was struggling to hold you upright enough, so you didn't bang your head against the counter, and his knees kept knocking into the cabinet.

"Hold on…" He grunted, and you squeaked when, without withdrawing, picked you up, holding your legs around his waist. Not going far, one hand held your butt and the other went to hitch your leg over his elbow as he pinned you to the wall. Luckily the paint on the wall wasn't textured, your back rubbing over the surface as you bounced on his cock. Wonwoo looked even more gorgeous than normal like that, naked, sweat covering his brow, pupils blown wide. The red, dancing hologram of his eye contact contracted and spun, and you wondered what it did, if anything. With hazy thoughts, you glanced down at his body, whining at the sight of his abs, clenched to work his hips and hold you up.

"Fuck, pretty girl-" He exhaled harshly, his thrusts getting less regular as he grew closer to his orgasm.

"Inside, please, fuck!" You pleaded and he had no desire to argue. His forehead landed on your shoulder, and he moaned higher than you thought he could go as he pumped his cum into you. In the silence, cutting through both of your panting breaths, your combined release dripped onto the tile floor. Your head was so empty you nearly didn't realize you had came again as well. You tried hard not to slump like a rag doll since he was completely holding you up, but you had nearly no strength.

"Let's get to the bed." Wonwoo stood up straight, staying inside, his cock still rock-hard and he carried you to the separate bedroom of the suite. While he meant to set you down on the bed gently, you flopped onto it, letting yourself finally go boneless, your muscles and mind were mush. You weren't sure if you could go any longer, but despite a bit of sweat on him, he was unaffected.

"I've been waiting to fuck you since you came to my motel room in Falko." He admitted, shifting you higher on the bed, following suit, his hard cock covered in both of yours cum resting between the folds of your cunt. You barely registered the confession before your back arched, his cock finding its home inside of you again. It was hard to fully catch your breath, he was battering his cock into your dripping cunt without any mercy. As he rolled his hips just right to hit every single good spot inside of you, his hands gripped your thighs, maneuvering your weakly shaking thighs so they were pressed to your chest, knees at your ears.

"D-daddy, go slower!" You keened and his hips immediately stopped. You were too far gone to feel anything but a bit of respite, head flopping so your cheek rested on the pillow.

"Fucking hell, princess." Somehow his voice had gotten deeper, and he started the brutal pace back up, snapping his hips even harder than before. If you had the strength to scream you would, but your throat was hoarse, so you just mewled and squeaked, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth, tears down your cheeks.

"You love daddy's cock ruining your sweet little cunt, huh?" He huffed when your glassy eyes met his. The red hologram spun and danced, and while you couldn't see, through the lens he had a much different view. Little numbers and labels shown in the air around your body, telling him how and where your brain was firing, your heart rate, body temperature, blood pressure. He could even highlight where blood pooled to the bruises his hands had made.

"Yes~!" You gasped as his thrusts slowed down, but just as hard, he barely pulled out before grinding down into you. Different sensors from his lens flashed on and he could tell you were getting close already. Even without it, he could feel your walls pulsing, more of your wet dripping from where your bodies met.

"You wanna cum, pretty?" You nodded rapidly, whimpering positively.

"Cum for daddy, then." And with one more thrust you fell over the edge. Not just from his words, but also the rough friction of his pelvic bone meeting your clit. Wonwoo chuckled as he felt your pussy spasm, more of your cum squirting from your quivering folds, coating his skin as well. He had a feeling you were spent even though he knew he could keep going. He had stilled inside of you, so he didn't overstimulate you too much, and he wasn't for sure you were still conscious. Your eyes were closed, arms resting on the bed up by your head. He smiled warmly, cooing at your fucked out state, letting your legs go so they could rest onto the bed as well. When he pulled out you shuddered, a long shaky keen floating from your parted lips. He was shocked at the globs of thick, white cum that dripped out of your swollen cunt and he was still unfortunately still very hard. After feeling your core milk him dry, he wasn't sure even a cold shower would calm him down. Though, seeing you laying there, he felt a little bad he had caused you to become so worn out and didn't want to be selfish.

"Oh, princess." Wonwoo leaned back over you, kissing your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then softly pressed his lips to yours. You sighed and it made him grin, you were at least conscious.

"You're still hard." Your voice was quiet, higher than normal, almost whiny.

"It's okay, pretty, you're tired." Wonwoo nuzzled the side of your neck under your ear, lightly sucking on your ear lobe. If he wasn't careful, he would not be able to resist sliding back inside you. With the little strength you had return to you, you pushed him back just enough that you could flop over onto your stomach.

"(Y/N), we don't-" You didn't let him finish, grabbing a pillow to shove under your hips, lifting your butt a bit higher.

"Please, daddy~" You looked at him with shining eyes over your shoulder, and who was he to resist?

"Oh, fuck, princess. If you insist…"

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Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[sunrenity]

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME — those fucking rink rats!

SYNOPSIS. you hated all hockey players, to say the least. sim jake hated how you met his gaze with obliviousness, unaware that he was irrevocably captivated by you, who not only deemed love overrated but also harbored a strong dislike for him, all because he was a hockey player.

p hockey player! sim jake x fem!reader  .  ft  enemy!heeseung, twin brother!sunghoon  .  g  hockey player x figure skater, strangers to enemies (one-sided at first) to lovers fluff, college au, pinning  .  w  cussing, blood, swearing, lowercase  .  wc  1726 (1.7k)  .  bookshelf

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THE COLD AIR NIPPED at your cheeks, painting a rosy hue on your face as you settled onto the frosty seat beside the school's ice rink. the metal bench sent a shiver through you as you began the familiar ritual of securing the laces of your ice skates. yet, you seemed unaware of the aggression in your actions as you tightened them, the sharp metal eyelets clinking with each forceful pull. your visible anger was palpable, a simmering emotion on the verge of boiling over.

the frigid ambiance of the rink surrounded you, the sharp scent of cold air filling your lungs with each inhale. the ice glistened under the artificial lights, a pristine surface awaiting the graceful movements of figure skaters. despite the serene appearance, tension crackled in the air, and it wasn't solely a result of the chilly temperature.

as you meticulously started fastening the second skate, your fingers deftly navigating the familiar loops and hooks, your focus remained on the frosty expanse of the rink before you. the ice gleamed under the rink's artificial lights, promising a canvas for elegant spins and precise jumps in the upcoming training session.

beside you, your twin brother, sunghoon, who's older by a mere three seconds, settled onto the cold bench, his brown hair obscuring a portion of his eyes. the frosty air seemed to mirror the anticipation that lingered between you two. both of you were gearing up for the first day of training on the ice after your initial day of college, a familiar routine amid the transition to a new academic year.

he glanced at you, a curious expression in his eyes, "so, how do you feel about sharing the ice with the hockey players?"

the mere mention of those hockey players sent a shiver down your spine, a visceral reaction to the looming presence of a group you harbored a deep disdain for. it was as if the temperature dropped a few degrees around you, the chill matching the frosty atmosphere of the rink. you shot sunghoon a look, a silent acknowledgment of the shared disdain for the hockey players at your school.

with a heavy sigh, you continued fastening the straps, the cold metal biting into your fingertips. "sharing the ice with those rink rats? ugh, don't even get me started, sunghoon. i can't stand them, and you know that very well," you grumbled, casting a disdainful glance toward the rink. determination etched across your face, you tightened the last strap with precision, as if channeling your frustration into the action.

sunghoon, sensing your frustration, nodded knowingly. his understanding gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shifted his attention to the laces of his own figure skating shoes. "yeah, it's not ideal. but it's just temporary, right? their rink will be fixed soon, and we won't have to deal with them anymore."

despite the reassurance, the thought of enduring their presence for what felt like an eternity irked you. the hockey players' rink had broken over the summer — rumors circulated, hinting at sabotage, possibly orchestrated by rival schools envious of your school's hockey team, who had clinched victory the previous year — leaving the figure skaters with no choice but to share the ice.

"well, you better brace yourself. looks like they're headed our way." sunghoon remarked, his eyes shifting toward the approaching group of hockey players, each one fully geared up and exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance. the swagger in their steps announced their arrival like a storm on the horizon. an annoyed exchange of glances between you and your brother silently acknowledged the impending clash.

as the hockey players confidently took to the ice, coach baek's voice resonated, breaking the tense atmosphere, "figure skaters, on the ice!" every figure skater, regardless of their sentiments, needed to participate in the shared training.

the contrast between the figure skaters and the hockey players was palpable — the elegant spins and graceful maneuvers of figure skaters clashed starkly with the powerful strides and aggressive moves of the hockey players

reluctantly, you and sunghoon made your way onto the shared ice, the chill seeping through your skates mirroring the frosty atmosphere. as you joined the other figure skaters, you couldn't help but feel a sense of solidarity among your peers – a shared discontentment with the temporary arrangement.

the hockey players, seemingly oblivious to the tension, went about their training with a level of boisterous enthusiasm that grated on your nerves. coach lee, their commanding presence overseeing the training, added to the cacophony as he barked instructions, the contrast to coach baek's composed demeanor striking.

sunghoon gave you an encouraging nod, silently conveying that you both needed to make the best of the situation.

coach baek's authoritative voice rang out, "all right, let's start with spins and jumps. show them what figure skaters are made of!"

you see, the hatred wasn't only between the students; it permeated the very fabric of the ice rink. the two coaches, baek and lee, harbored a mutual disdain for each other.

as you gracefully executed spins and jumps, attempting to maintain composure in the uneasy atmosphere, the unfamiliar tension between figure skaters and hockey players lingered in the air. sunghoon, by your side, mirrored your determination.

mid-spin, the world blurred around you, the rhythmic pattern of your routine momentarily transporting you to a familiar sanctuary. you felt at home, completely immersed in the moment. however, the sanctuary shattered as a sudden, searing impact disrupted your concentration. a hockey puck struck your nose, an intense, sharp pain radiating through your face. the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, and crimson droplets stained the pristine ice beneath you. simultaneously, another puck hit your leg, throwing you off balance, and you found yourself tumbling onto the unforgiving surface.

those fucking rink rats!

shock and discomfort enveloped you as you lay there, momentarily stunned. the cold ice beneath you offered a stark contrast to the warmth of the blood that now trickled down from your injured nose.

amidst the disarray, the atmosphere became charged with tension. heeseung, seemingly reveling in the chaos, wore a smug smirk that spoke volumes of satisfaction. beside him, a nervous-looking boy with jet-black hair that fell in messy waves over his forehead — who you had never seen before, not to mention — hesitated for a moment before breaking away from heeseung's side. ignoring the leader of the hockey players, he rushed towards you, concern etched on his face.

heeseung's condescending remarks echoed, "accidents happen, figure skater. maybe watch where you're spinning next time." his words only fueled the anger within you, but the black-haired boy seemed genuinely apologetic, his eyes reflecting a sense of regret.

the figure skaters, including sunghoon, shot disapproving glares at heeseung, demanding respect. the black-haired boy knelt beside you, offering a tentative hand, "i'm sorry about that. are you okay?"

your initial pride fueled a refusal, and you scoffed at the black-haired boy's attempt to help. the disdain for hockey players echoed in your mind, and you tried to rise independently, determined to maintain your composure. his extended hand hung in the air momentarily before you slapped it away with a curt gesture, resisting any form of assistance.

"i don't need your help," you said, your glare aimed at him, your words a defiant assertion of independence.

yet, as you tried to rise, the pain in your leg intensified, sending a jolt of discomfort through your body. stubbornness gave way to necessity, and reluctantly, you conceded. the boy, undeterred by your initial rejection, gently offered his support once more. his expression sincere as he insisted, "let me help you. it's the least i can do."

sighing in reluctant acceptance, you finally yielded to the black-haired boy's outstretched hand. the texture of his palm against yours was surprisingly warm. his grip was unexpectedly strong as he helped you up, guiding you to a sitting position on the bench.

the disapproval in sunghoon's eyes intensified, a silent commentary on the compromise you had made. his gaze held a mix of concern for your well-being and displeasure at the necessity of accepting help from an unexpected source.

heeseung, too, watched with disdain, his upper lip curled in a scoffing expression as the black-haired boy assisted you. his eyes bore into the scene, a silent commentary on his lack of empathy.

"i'm really sorry. i didn't mean for that to happen," the black-haired boy reiterated.

his gaze flickered towards heeseung briefly, as if seeking approval or reassurance, but was only met with a cold glare.

with a gulp, he added, "uhm, i could bring you to the school's nursing room, if you want? you do have a nursing room, right?"

despite your lingering reservations, the unexpected kindness and genuine remorse in the black-haired boy's demeanor left you conflicted. you hesitated for a moment, glancing at sunghoon, who nodded subtly, silently agreeing to accept the offer of assistance.

with a reluctant nod, you consented to let him guide you to the school's nursing room "yeah, sure. the nursing room is... that way," you gestured vaguely, realizing that the black-haired boy likely had no idea where it was.

as he took a step closer to help you stand, his hands found a secure grip on your upper arms, offering both support and stability. his touch was unexpectedly gentle, fingers firm yet careful as he assisted you in getting back on your feet.

a sharp pang of pain in your leg reminded you of the injury, but the black-haired boy's steadying presence provided a counterbalance. his hands, now subtly adjusting to support your waist, guided you towards the exit of the ice rink. your arm instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking additional support and maintaining balance.

meanwhile, sunghoon approached the unfamiliar hockey player, his initial skepticism palpable. "hey, thanks for helping my sister. i'm sunghoon, by the way," he said, eyeing the boy cautiously.

the tension between figure skaters and hockey players lingered, and sunghoon couldn't completely let his guard down.

the boy nodded, offering a genuine smile, "no problem. i'm jake, new to the college and the hockey team. once again, i didn't mean for any of this to happen."

sunghoon's skepticism softened slightly at jake's introduction, appreciating the courtesy. "well, thanks anyway. keep an eye on heeseung, though. he can be trouble."

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© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

[brokenpieces-72]

I really love the stray series and this idea has been bugging me for a while. So what if they brought stray along to help investigate the facility but got ambushed and stray got injured saving them?

Yay first request, okay time to not screw it up! I hope I did this okay.

Stray Shot

Laswell’s intel was enough for a small mission to take place and investigate the facility. There was some discussion about whether they take you along or not. Gaz can give you basic commands but you’re no K9. After a couple of minor concerns were brought up they decided to bring you along. You knew the facility and your reactions could at least give them a gauge of what happened.

You were given a vest… but as the rest of the team was gearing up you kept wrestling with it, biting and nipping at it. You even managed to get your bottom jaw stuck in it. Soap was the first to finish getting ready and came out to see you stepping around with your mouth caught on the vest, seeing you fall over. Johnny shook his head but got you out of the vest. Price came out later and saw Johnny latching on your leash.

“The dog needs a vest sergeant.” Price commented.

“You’re welcome to try sir.” Johnny said offering the best to the captain, not much hope of success on his face.

John did try…you kept moving and when he tried holding you between his legs, you kept wriggling free, voice your disdain with small growls. Price gave up as well.

Nikolai was waiting with a vehicle. Flying wasn’t easily an option, seeing as there was nowhere they could easily land, and they couldn’t easily drop out with you not having any gear on. You ride being very well behaved in the back… okay yeah you definitely tried to get up front into shotgun but thankfully John and Nikolai were able to dissuade you so there wasn’t an accident.

When the task force arrived at the facility though, everything was quiet. Eerily quiet. No guards at the gate, no patrols, not even a vehicle in a parking lot. Guns were up though, the men knowing full well that quiet doesn’t mean absent. You were kept on leash, attached to Kyle’s belt. Your body language made it very clear you didn’t want to be here, ears down and flat, your tails between your legs and whimpering, trying to circle back to the safety of the vehicles. Kyle kept tugging your leash though, reminding you there was no retreat, but that you were not alone.

They entered through a side door, scoping around before entering. When Kyle tried to go in you kept pulling away. You didn’t want to go back in, you fled for a reason. There weren’t any other animals inside you could hear either. Kyle kept tugging, urging you to go in. Price held the door, keeping watch for any signs of movement with Ghost and Soap moving ahead slowly.

Kyle crouched down to your level, while you shifted and moved around whimpering, letting out small distressed barks.

“Hey hey, I know I know. It’s okay. We just need to go in for a bit, nothing in there is gonna hurt you.” Kyle said trying to calm you down, giving you scratches and neck rubs. He held your head to look directly at you.

“You’re Safe…we’re gonna make sure of it.” He said. You let out one last whimpering before moving in closer and licking his face. Kyle stood up and led you inside. There is a strong metallic smell along with weird smells you remembered but didn’t recognize as anything good. Every move the men made you froze and followed. Ghost checked around a corner, you looked from where you were. Johnny tensed, you tensed. The captain gave an order your ears perked. Kyle stopped you let out a small growl. This seemed to go on for a long time.

Soon they approached a door you had seen a few times but never entered. And never saw others leave. You started fighting against the leash again. The men think you’re scared, and you are. When Ghost opened the door though, it was more than that.

The door closed as soon as it opened after a shot rang out. There was shouting as Ghost open fired as soon as the door reopened. Another shot was fired but this one from above and behind into Gaz’s back. If it weren’t for the vest he may have been paralyzed. Thinking fast Gaz unhooked the leash from your collar and the men moved quickly taking cover. Ghost cleared out whatever men were in that room, making it the easiest spot to avoid the sniper. You wasted no time rushing in with the rest.

Inside they saw kennels and fenced cages, with chain leashes hanging from the wall. There was also blood. The place was a familiar scent to you, as you detected other animals you’d encountered. Any of them came in they were rarely let back out, and if they were they weren’t the same. You whimpered as you detected the scent of another dog you’d met. A husky, who didn’t give up on escape.

“Operating table, kennels, chains… this is animal testing at its ugliest.” Ghost commented as they kept moving. Ghost approached a corner, but you stepped in first smelling danger. Without warning Ghost turned to find another guard pointing a gun at him, only for you to go for the guard’s leg.

Ghost took advantage of your distraction knifing the bastard in the chest, and lowering him to the ground. You didn’t let up on your growls as you barked at the corpse. Ghost gave you a scratch between the ears, and you eased off rubbing against his leg.

“Good dog.” He said. Price and Johnny moved up ahead entering an operating room that still contained some syringes. Gaz found a computer and tried to break in to collect data. Ghost got you to wait at least outside the operating room.

You didn’t hear or really understand what they were discussing. You recognized a few of the words but not many.

“Animal testing… what were they testing?” Price muttered.

“A type of drug?” Soap suggested. “Sure as hell keepin it to themselves.”

“Captain.” Gaz called from the computer, having broken in. Price left the room to see what his sergeant found, instructing Ghost to get Nikolai to be ready with the vehicles. You followed Price, who didn’t slow to make sure you were caught up. They had to work fast, knowing a sniper was above them somewhere. They also needed a way out. Gaz had found more information and files concerning the testing, but you caught wind of something more pressing.

There was a sound the men knew well, but you didn’t. A grenade rolled towards them and while they took cover you picked it up and bolted towards where it came from, tossing it by whipping your head. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough, and was caught in some of the blast. Gaz moved quickly to pull you out while Johnny and Ghost went after the thrower, gunning him and few other’s down, the blast having incapacitated most of them. You whimpered as he got you to cover. Price continued pushing forward, seeing as it would get them out faster at this point. You do your best to stay focused, the pain still remains in your mouth. Your muzzle was dotted with grenade fragments and some burns. The pain made you whimper, but you held strong as the team kept going.

Price lead his team through. You bolted forward again though as he entered an open area, knocking him down just as a shot rang out. Your pained yelp had Price rolling you off of him assessing the damage. The exit was only a few feet away but another shot hit you. Ghost had a chance to take out the sniper before anymore could hit you. Johnny ran up ahead to open the door, and flag down Nikolai. Gaz got you over his shoulder, as Price got up and they made a break for it.

The rest is a blur for you. The bullets got you in the chest and your muzzle was still in a lot of pain. You were losing blood. Nikolai was there in time to collect the team. From there you blacked out. You remember hearing sounds of shouting, and smelling latex.

While you were undergoing surgery the team waited outside. They had been able to focus enough to get their gear and hand in what they found to Laswell, but they were more distracted by you and your condition. Laswell came to find them waiting to see if you would make it. Seeing the four men tense and quiet was something she’d seen more than once. This time there was something different. Affection.

Laswell leaned against the wall next to Price trying to offer some comfort. Even she had to admit you were a good dog. Then the doctor stepped out of the room. The men were all at attention.

“They’ll pull through…though I should mention something odd…” the doctor said a little unsure of himself.

“Go on.” Price urged.

“We didn’t really need to do any stitches just remove the pieces of grenade and bullets, and give them some more blood.” The doctor explained.

“…are you saying they healed on their own?” Ghost asked crossing his arms. The doctor knew how it sounded and their own expression showed no change.

“The dog is asleep, if you would like to check on them.” The doctor offered. Kyle was the first to go in with Johnny following behind. You laid on your side on the table, with some blood still being pumped into you. There were bandages on your wounds and your muzzle. No blood was seeping through. The doctor held up a scalpel.

“Let me show you what I mean.” The doctor said and made a small incision, drawing a little blood. Johnny smacked the doctor’s hand away.

“Leave em alone!” He shouted at the doctor. Ghost got hold of Johnny’s shoulder and got him calm before he could start throwing hands with the doctor. Kyle noticed what the doctor was talking about though. He saw the small cut mend itself quickly.

“Unbelievable.” He said.

You started opening your eyes and sat up a bit, seeing Laswell and Price standing off to the side. Your tail wagged, a little weak. The team couldn’t believe how quickly you recovered. It was insane. Laswell was intent on doing thorough examination and research on the information the 141 had found. This wasn’t normal at all. Price c came over to you and you welcomed him with licks to his hand, happy you didn’t disappear behind that door for good.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Hero's Welcome

I am super duper unhappy with this. I just can't get it right, but if I don't post it, I'll get stuck in a rut. As always, please drop a comment below, they are loved and cherished.

This can be read as a The Way the Stars Love the Heavens one-shot or as a standalone, so you don't need to read my series to read this!!

Contains: Fluff, smut (oral sex M and F receiving, fingering, p in v).

2.2K words of pure smut.

Simon comes back after an op and you're happy to welcome him back to base.

It was the soft sound of his tac boots on the hard floors that gave Simon away. Despite how quietly he would always move, the long days of waiting for him to return to base had left you on edge and listening out for every sound that came by your door.

You didn't want to wait any longer, ladylike behaviour be damned, so when the footsteps got close enough to let you know he was right by your dorm, you yanked him into the room. He was still wearing all his tac gear, and he was already grinning when he laid eyes on you, ever the observant soldier, he must have been ready for your reaching arms the second he heard the creaking of your door. "Well hello lovely, did you miss me?"

You all but ripped his mask off his face and pressed your lips to his as your reply, and Simon smiled against your lips as you started to pull his vest off. Your fingers moved haphazardly, and he grabbed one shoulder strap as it fell from his chest. With the vest discarded, you started on the various weapons strapped to his body, finally needing to break away from his lips and look as the task grew.

"You need a hand?" He watched you remove the knife from his hip, your fingers unfocused and rushed, and you nodded as he unbuckled the holster from his other hip and placed it and the gun it held on the ever-growing pile. You reached towards the small of his back, gripping the wad of metal pressed against his skin and pulled it free from the tiny pouch protecting his body.

You laughed when it came into view, and Simon's easy grin had your heart fluttering. "What the hell do you need a trench knife for? The world wars ended a long time ago, dearest."

"The knuckles detach, you know, in case the knife gets stuck." He took it from you and separated the pieces. "See?"

You shook your head and sighed. "Alright then."

You dropped down to your knees to remove his shoes, and he smiled down at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm really getting to gold star treatment, aren't I love?"

"Of course." The knife on his left ankle went first, then the gun on his right and you made your way back up his body to take off his belt. He stopped you, wrapping his hand gently around your wrists before placing your hand on his shoulders and leaning down to kiss you. You felt him grip the edge of your shirt and you lifted your arms as he pulled it over your head.

"Fuck you're so fucking beautiful. I'm the luckiest man on Earth." His lips found your neck, and the added roughness of his beard from being in the field for a week without shaving had you taking in a sharp breath as the texture sent shivers down your spine.

His shirt went next, and he took two steps back to accommodate the height you didn't have so you could pull it off his body. You fought back a giggle, and he brushed his fingers over the apple of your cheek as he looked at you fondly. "What it is love."

"I was hoping I'd find a razor blade taped somewhere." The look on his face told you all you needed to know, and your suspicions were confirmed when he started to undo his belt with a smile. You helped him, pushing his camo pants off his hips and down to a pile on the floor. He had something long and impossibly thing strapped to his thigh, and your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as you went to undo the strap.

"It's a KGB concealed blade, you know, in case of a pat down." Nevertheless, it joined its brothers and sisters on the pile on your table, and Simon thanked you for all your hard work with another kiss as he removed your bra.

You nipped his lower lip, and one hand went from your hip to your breast so he could play with your nipple. He wasn't as gentle as he usually was, and it had you gasping through the kiss as the roughness of his battle-hardened fingers danced across your sensitive skin. You slid your hand down his body and palmed his cock, and he grunted when you rubbed him through the fabric.

You pulled away from his lips and pressed yours to his cheek, then his chin, then you dipped your head to kiss his neck, stopping briefly from sucking a mark on his throat. "I think I should show you how much I missed you."

His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he used his fingertips to draw circles on your breast. "And how are you going to do that, lovely?"

You smiled and slowly dropped to your knees, pressing kisses to his chest and abs as you went. "I have some ideas."

One of his massive hands found the back of your head as you pulled his boxers down. You used the precum beading at the head to slick your way down as you stroked him, and he groaned when you tightened your hand on the upstroke. You smiled up at him before leaning in and licking him from base to tip like an ice cream, and you felt his fingers tense as he stopped himself from digging them into your hair.

You sucked the tip into your mouth, and he took in a breath as the heat of your mouth made his toes tingle. His head fell back, and his breath quickened as you took him further in, one of your hands moving from his hip to play with his balls. He moaned, his chest rumbling as his hand squeezed your shoulder rhythmically.

He started to rock his hips, a slow and steady back and forth that still let you set the pace, and you could tell by the force of the hand on your shoulder that he was holding back. You took your hand off his balls and moved it to the part of his cock that your mouth couldn't reach, and Simon grunted and a breath left his chest. "Fuckin' ell love, you're gonna kill me."

You hummed an affirmative and pulled back, using both your hands to take the place of your mouth. "Death by blow job, what a way to go."

He shook his head and huffed. "You're asking for it now." He pulled your hands off of him and lifted you up by your upper arms, manhandling you to the bed. "What makes you think it's ok to give me so much lip."

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, and he took in your expression before ripping your trousers off, the buttons flying everywhere as you protested. "Hey, those were my favourite."

"I'll repair them for you, don't worry love." He knew he would and the vision of him sitting on the bed with a tiny sewing needle in his hand made you giggle. The sound of ripping pulled you away from your thoughts, and you looked towards his hands, there was no way he could fix your panties, he had torn them in two.

He dropped down and knelt on the floor before manhandling you again, throwing your legs over his shoulders and diving in, licking you from entrance to clit as he moaned. He went in like a man eating his last meal, and you knew you would have bruises in the morning with how hard his hand were squeezing your thighs.

With your ass off the edge, Simon had to support the weight of your legs and he took full advantage, using his massive arms to maneuver you so you couldn't move away from growing pleasure as he increased his efforts with his mouth. He dropped one of your legs but shifted to maintain control as his hand slid up your inner thigh and to your core and moved his mouth to focus solely on your clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck." The feeling of his fingers sliding inside you was wonderful, and the slow pace juxtaposed to the enthusiastic one he had taken with his mouth meant that you felt every ridge of his digits. He crooked his fingers to rub your G-spot and you arched toward his mouth as you grew closer to the edge.

You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your growing moans, aware that the walls could only keep so much away, and you didn't want your friends to hear how desperate you must have sounded as Simon touched you. Suddenly, everything stopped and the hand he was using to pleasure you was wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth. "None of that Love, I want to hear you."

"But…" You couldn't really think of a response, not when he was looking at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

"No buts, be good for me Love and let me hear how good I make you feel." He dove right back in, and your fingers gripped the sheets as the sensations picked up exactly where they left off. You tried to muffle the whimpers, but you were rushing towards the peak like a runaway train.

Your hands found his head, and you scratched his scalp and pushed his head into you, and with one more stroke to your G-spot, your vision went white as the pleasure overtook you. The vibrations of his moans only made the feeling stronger, and he didn't seem to mind the way you were yanking his hair as the orgasm slowly faded.

He didn't stop, and you pushed his head away softly as he chuckled. "Simon, enough."

He pulled away and wiped his face with his hand before standing up with a grin. "You right there love?"

You blinked in indignation. "Am I right? What kind of question is that?"

He was smug, his handsome face twinkling with ego. "I'm just making sure."

You yanked him downwards and used the momentum to flip yourself on top of him, his hands moving to your hips as you settled on top of him. "The bed's too small to flip again, so what are you going to do now?"

He ran one hand up and down your leg while the other moved to your cheek to pull you down for a kiss, and he nipped your lower lip as the kiss deepened. He pulled back, only far enough to speak through his smirk. "Absolutely nothing."

You nodded and brought your hand from where it was resting on his chest to wrap around his cock, jacking it a few times before holding it still so you could slide down slowly. He was always just a little too much, but like this, he was overwhelming, hitting every single space you had until it felt like you were going to burst.

You took in a breath and started to rock slowly, moving your hips back and forth while Simon rubbed gentle circles on your thighs with his thumbs. "You're doing so good for me, Love." You bent at the waist and kissed him, and he ran his hands up and down your back as he started to match your pace.

The kiss turned rough, and he bent one knee to gain more leverage as he overtook the pace. You found yourself unable to straighten back up as he angled his hips to hit your G-spot, and then he was taking your hand off his heaving chest and placing it between your legs. "Touch yourself for me, Love."

You did as he asked, rubbing small circles on your clit as he gripped your hips so tight you knew you'd have bruises by the time the night was up. Simon was grunting like an animal as thrusts increased in force, and your body rocked with each one as your skin started to tingle with release once again. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, and his hands moved to the backs of your thighs for more leverage as you started to clench around him.

"Come on Love, I know you're close, I can feel it, just let go for me." You could tell by the glint in his voice that he was close behind you, and your fingers sped up on your clit as he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans like a man starved as you fell over the edge. His hips stuttered and he held you to him as he pulsed inside you.

With his hips still, you rested on top of his chest to catch your breath while he ran his hands over any skin he could reach. "You need anything from me Love?"

You sighed and turned your head so you could rest your ear against his chest as a steady thumb filled your ear. "No dearest." You smiled softly and rubbed his nose with yours. "Welcome back."

He grinned and kissed you, it was full of love and affection, and your heart swelled as he held your face while his lips moved against yours. He pulled back with one last peck and put his forehead on yours with a sigh. "It's good to be back. I love you y/n."

You mirrored his sigh, enjoying the intimate contact as you grew sleepy. "I love you too Simon."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @shuttlelauncher81 @carma-fanficaddict

[whitedarkmoonflower]

hello

Can I request a sihtric x reader fic where she doesn’t know how to braid, so sihtric teaches her. and when she’s good enough he lets her braid his hair for battle saying it would bring him luck(?)

this is the main idea but you can change & do whatever you like with it! Thank you!

Braiding hair

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: I think I have never written a fic so quickly as this one. It just touched a string within me. Thank you so much for this absolutely lovely request! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Warnings: fluff, tons of fluff and such a tiny bit of angst, that it doesn't really count 

Word Count: 4,5K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

The first light of dawn painted the horizon in  delicate hues of pink and orange,  casting a soft reflection on the tranquil river below. The water flowed very calm in this part of the river, the gentle lapping of the current seamlessly melding with the melodies of the first birds, praising the awakening of a new day. 

As Sihtric walked, he felt a sense of peace enveloping him. The riverside always had this calming effect, a place where he could gather his thoughts before the day's chaos ensued. Especially now, with Coocham buzzing with warriors gearing up for battle. 

Soon, he reached a secluded bend in the river, framed by tall reeds from the side of the river, while nearby a sprawling willow provided shade, shielding this corner from both the sun's gaze and curious onlookers. The air here was cooler, tinged with the refreshing scent of wet soil and the distant fragrance of blooming wildflowers.

Rounding the bend, Sihtric halted, an unexpected sight meeting his eyes – amidst the curtain of reeds and morning's embrace, you were dressing after what appeared to be a refreshing river bath. Droplets of water still clung to your naked arms, glistening in the faint sunlight. You reached for your leather jerkin, slipping it over your undergarment and breeches, then tugged on your boots and fastened your sword. Your damp hair, darker than its usual shade, clung to your neck, small streamlets running down your back.

Even from where he stood, Sihtric could see the focus in your stance, reminding him instantly of how you looked in the heat of training. He smirked remembering the unexpected twist his first sparring session with you had taken.

It had been a mystery to him why Uhtred had taken you in as a warrior. A woman – a small and delicate creature, looking like you would break into two from wielding that long and heavy blade of yours. The way you danced around the hay dolls in the sparring grounds, as if playing some intricate game, made Sihtric just wrinkle his nose and rolle his eyes, even as Finan approvingly chuckled with his tongue, hinting at a different perspective.

Until that one day.

—-----------------------------------------------

It was a late afternoon and the training grounds resonated with the rhythmic clang of metal clashing and the shuffling of feet on dry ground. Sihtric, along with Finan and Osfert, stood slightly off, their gazes fixed once again on you as you flowed through a series of maneuvers with your blade.

"She's got a knack for this," Finan observed, admiration evident in his voice. "See her footwork? Swift and sharp."

Osferth nodded, adding, "She's trained well. That much is clear."

"Since when have you turned into an expert in sword skill?” Sihtric scoffed, “Besides training and actual battle are worlds apart. Dancing around here is one thing, but facing seasoned warriors? Doubt she'd last a minute."

Finan shot him a sidelong glance. "Don't be so quick to dismiss, Sihtric. She might surprise you."

"She might be good," Sihtric conceded, his tone laced with sarcasm, "for training sessions with stray dolls. They don’t fight back. Let's be real; when swords clash in earnest, it's a different game."

Osferth countered, "You're not giving her enough credit. It's evident she has the heart of a warrior."

Sihtric's lips curled into a smirk, "Heart won't stand a chance against seasoned Dane fighters."

Finan, growing frustrated, retorted, "Like you, you mean? There's something else that bothers you about her, and it's not her skills. Spit it out."

“In the shield wall, every man counts. I want my flanks secured by real warriors, not this dancing doll.” Sihtric sneered with disdain.

Sihtric turned to look at you just to realise that you had approached the trio, having caught the tail end of their conversation. Blade resting on your shoulder, you met Sihtric's gaze squarely. "Shall we see? Care for a spar, Sihtric?"

The challenge hung in the air, and the attention of everybody on the grounds was suddenly focused on both of you.

"Perhaps we should use sticks, not steel. Wouldn't want to mar that pretty face of yours," Sihtric jested. 

Your retort was swift, "Scared I might leave a mark?" With a confident stride, you took your stance, eyes locked onto Sihtric, awaiting his move. 

Amid the expectant gazes of his friends and other warriors now coming closer, Sihtric drew his blade and slowly stepped into the training ground, every muscle radiating the confidence of years of experience and countless battles.

Without hesitation, Sihtric made the first move, lunging forward with a powerful strike, expecting to overwhelm you and end the bout swiftly. To his astonishment, he was met with empty air as you sidestepped evading him gracefully. His initial smugness was replaced with a furrowed brow.

The dance continued, with Sihtric trying to leverage his strength, but you remained elusive. Like a leaf caught in a whirl of wind, you ducked, swirled, and danced around him, evading each of his strikes. Each of your movements, precise and fluid, confounded him, taunting him with feints, luring him in with the promise of an opening in your defences, only to change direction at the last moment, leaving him off-balance. Each time, the crowd's gasps and murmurs grew louder, Sihtric's frustration evidently increased.

The defining moment came when you feigned a low strike, prompting Sihtric to lower his defence. In a split second, you changed your trajectory, using his momentum against him. He stumbled, caught off guard, and with a deft move, you closed in, swirling around, striking his blade hand and burying your shoulder in his stomach. Sihtric could only gasp watching his blade flying out of his grasp, himself landing roughly on the dusty ground.

A wave of cheers washed over the grounds. Standing tall, you extended a hand to a visibly dazed Sihtric, sitting in the dirt. 

Finan's smirk was hard to miss as he chuckled, "Told you so. You just wouldn't listen." 

The next morning as you arrived at the training grounds, Sihtric was already there, engrossed in sharpening his sword. Every stroke showed his focus, so much so that he didn't seem to notice you approaching. You hesitated for a moment before turning away to begin your own regimen, keenly aware of Sihtric's discreet glances in your direction as you practiced.

Finan approached, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Waiting for someone, Sihtric?"

Sihtric shot him an annoyed look. "Just making sure my blade is sharp."

Osferth, joining them, chuckled. "He's been 'making sure' that for the past hour, you can use that blade for shaving!"

Sihtric sighed, "Alright, alright. I was thinking of...you know...asking her to spar. But..."

"But you're too chicken to ask?" Finan teased.

"It's not that. It's just... What if she feels I'm challenging her?  Or worse, trying to show off?" Sihtric shifted uneasily.

"Why don't you just be direct?" Osferth suggested. "Ask her if she'd like to train with you. Simple."

Before Sihtric could reply, you approached, having noticed the trio's discussion. "Something interesting you're talking about?"

Finan, never one to miss an opportunity, smirked, "Sihtric here was just about to ask you something."

Sihtric shot Finan a glare but took a deep breath, "I was...uh...wondering if you'd be interested in...you know, sparring with me? No challenges, just...training."

You looked at him, a playful smile forming on your lips, "Took you long enough to ask. Let's see what you've got."

And so it began. Soon your sparring sessions became a regularity, a steady part of each day. 

Despite Sihtric's prowess and experience, he found himself continuously challenged by your fluidity and swiftness. Every parry, every counter-attack showcased your undeniable skill and he dug deep into his experience and strength to avoid repeating his previous mistake. 

And while the warrior in him thrived in the challenge, the man in him was captivated by you in a way he had not expected.

The effortless elegance of your movements, the way your hair swayed synchronously with your strikes, glinting in the sunlight, were hypnotic. Your lean body, a perfect fusion of strength and grace, resembled an alerted wild creature, ever vigilant and prepared.  

The way your cheeks turned rosy from exertion, the never fading spark in your eyes, full of determination, yet always bright with mischief and joy, your contagious laughter – all this and a thousand other small subtle things captured Sihtric's heart and endeared you to him.

Your wit, as sharp as your blade, was an allure in its own right. The fire with which you defended your views and opinions only deepened Sihtric's respect for you. And the way you never missed a chance to playfully tease those around you placed you at the same level as Finan. In between rounds, even out of breath and exhausted, you would always find a strength to throw a joke, your laughter infectious, lighting up the surroundings. Sihtric often found himself anticipating these moments more than the actual sparring.

Sihtric clearly recalled that one day, after a particularly intense round with both of you breathless and drenched in sweat, his eyes had scanned your form, an unfamiliar sensation washing over him. Unbeknownst to him, he had found himself admiring you – undeniably a skilled and formidable warrior, but also a woman, such a beautiful woman, radiating passion, intelligence, and resilience. In that instant, a warmth spread through his chest, an undeniable pull that made his heartbeat quicken.

—--------------------------------------------------

Lost in his memories, Sihtric failed to see a stray branch on the ground. It snapped sharply under Sihtric’s foot, its sound carrying in the stillness of dawn. Startled, your eyes met his visibly sheepish expression. 

There was a lingering pause, stretching a bit too long. With a mischievous smirk, you finally broke it. "Do the riverside reeds make for good hiding spots, Sihtric? Or are you merely lost?"

Taken aback, Sihtric stumbled over his words. "I... I didn't mean to intrude. I was just—"

"Sightseeing?" you teased, arching an eyebrow playfully. 

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to be here. My apologies."

You chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to see the usually composed Dane flustered. "Next time, maybe announce your presence with a song or dance. At least then I can join in the fun."

He laughed, the tension easing a bit. "Noted. I'll work on my riverside entrance."

You flashed him a grin. "See to it. And perhaps, I'll give you a show worth watching."

The mortified look, appearing on Sihtric’s face, made you laugh. 

“Since you’re here, maybe you can help?” you asked, showing him a small blade in your hand. 

Sihtric’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Help you? How?” 

"These," you tug at your locks, "get in the way and that can be an unnecessary distraction during a battle. It might look less disastrous if you’d help cut them."

Sihtric looked surprised, “It’s just hair. Why not simply braid them?"

Your eyes darted away, "Never learned that skill. Gisela, Hild, and others always do it for me. But they won't be accompanying us. I'm left with few options."

Sihtric chuckled. "So, the master of swords is defeated by braiding?"

You shrugged with your shoulders. "We all have our weaknesses."

Sihtric's gaze lingered on you, his heart's tempo subtly quickening. "Well, lucky for you, I've been braiding my hair for years. If you'd trust me, I could assist."

Amusement glinted in your eyes. "Sihtric, the fierce warrior, a hairdresser? That's an unexpected turn."

Feigning affront, he winked, "Hey, a man can have many talents!"

Nodding, you handed him a comb. "Then, let's give it a whirl."

"Come," Sihtric gestured, spreading his cloak by a willow's expansive root. 

How attentive, you mused, not with surprise, but merely acknowledging what you already knew. That’s how he was. Beneath the rough and reserved exterior of the stern warrior you had long discovered the tender inner core of an exceptionally warmhearted man – always loyal, ever attentive and a deeply caring friend. 

With an amused smile on your face you settled down onto the cloak, with Sihtric positioning himself behind you, his legs framing you supportively. The touch of his fingers, as he began combing and later skillfully weaving your hair, sent a frisson down your spine. And you let yourself drift away in memories as you listened to him humming a soft tune.

—-------------------------------------------------

You loved the sparring sessions with Sihtric, which became routine soon after your first encounter. Every time you squared off against him on the training ground, a thrill surged through you. It wasn't just the sparring, but the challenge he presented. He was a formidable opponent, hardened in countless battles. Every stance, every move, every counter spoke of his experience.

Your initial easy victory against him was a sweet memory, but the more you trained with him, the more you realised that it had been quite a stroke of luck. Sihtric had underestimated you, causing him to be less vigilant and overly hasty. Now, with every session, it became clearer that keeping up with him demanded all of your skill and focus.

Sihtric's unique combat rhythm was unpredictable. His strength was palpable, not just in his powerful strikes but also in his unwavering stance, making it challenging to catch him off guard as you had during your initial spar. Every session was a blend of instruction, challenge, and exhilaration, all of which you embraced wholeheartedly.

One particular day remained etched in your memory. After an intense bout, with both of you drenched in sweat and panting for breath, you leaned against a tree to recover. Your gaze naturally drifted to Sihtric. He was bent over, hands on his knees, his chest heaving, catching his breath, every muscle defined beneath his sweat-soaked tunic. While you had always respected his martial prowess, that day, an unfamiliar warmth spread within you, accompanied by a flutter you couldn't identify.

You watched as he straightened up, brushing off the dirt and sweat. A stray strand of hair fell onto his forehead. An unexpected urge overcame you—to reach out and tuck it away, brushing your fingers against his skin. You were taken aback by this newfound sentiment. What was that? 

Your heart raced, not only from the exhaustion of the spar, but from this unexpected surge of emotion. Memories flooded your mind — flashbacks of your shared laughs, the lingering, hidden glances, the melodic timbre of his soft voice as he shared stories by the fireplace. 

You shook your head, trying to dispel these thoughts. It was just the exhaustion playing tricks on your mind. And yet, you couldn’t resist stealing another glance, captivated by the way his lips curved into a smile as his eyes locked onto yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you both wrapped up, the typical teasing that was so common between you both   seemed charged with a new energy. Was it just you, or did he feel it too? Something deep within you had shifted giving way to emotions unknown and unintelligible for you, something you weren't quite ready to admit, even to yourself.

—--------------------------------------------------

Now, as you sat nestled between his legs, Sihtric almost regretted his impulsive offer to braid your hair. Had he overstepped? Yet, the allure of the moment was undeniable and too compelling to resist.

His fingers gently caressed your hair, the silky locks gliding seamlessly through his grasp. Every touch sent an electrifying jolt through his entire body, the strange feeling both excited and unnerved him. This closeness was a strong contrast to your sparring sessions—no blades, no shields, just the two of you, closer than a hand's reach. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest. Every sweep of his fingers, every touch of your hair sent a thrill coursing through him, stirring emotions and making his fingers tremble slightly.

The world around slowly faded. Every twist, every intertwining strand tightened an unexplainable knot in his stomach, every occasional brush of his hands against your neck made him yearn for more. The warmth of your back against his torso, the subtle scent that lingered, the softness of your hair—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

He leaned in slightly, his breath uneven, lips mere inches from your head. Every second stretched, deepening his yearning.

The braid was almost complete, but Sihtric took his time, savouring the moment, cherishing each touch. He was in love, deeply so, and while he was not yet ready to speak it out loudly, the intimacy of this moment seemingly spoke volumes.

“You are ready, fair warrior,” he finally whispered, his voice bringing you back from your reverie. 

Your fingers gently touched your head, where your ever dishevelled locks had been transformed into three neat strands, overflowing into one braid trailing down your back. Springing up, you dashed to the water to glimpse your reflection.

"Guess I won't need this blade for a haircut after all," you mused clearly impressed, sliding the knife back into its sheath.

Sihtric's eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and mischief. "I did say I had a knack for it."

You chuckled, "Thanks, Sihtric. I’m in your debt."

He shrugged, his casual demeanour back in place. "Just promise to show me a new sword move or something. That would square us, right?"

You grinned, "I've got a better idea. Teach me to braid, and someday, I might offer the same service to you."

"My lady, braiding isn't as straightforward as swordplay. It's an art form. If you wish to have the privilege of braiding my locks, you've got a lot to learn,” Sihtric smirked in response.

And so, the remaining week before departure a new dimension was added to your training sessions – Sihtric became your braiding instructor. You profoundly wondered how he had managed to persuade almost all the small girls in the whole village to sit patiently as his fingers, interlaced with yours, guided you through the intricate process, showing you the weaves and twists, demonstrating how to put pearls and beans in the hair and fasten the braids. 

You were amazed by the delicacy and deftness of his rugged hands, contrasting sharply with your own efforts that often left stray hairs or twisted sections that unravelled the entire braid. And one day, the mystery surrounding the patience of the small villagers was unravelled when you saw Sihtric remove one of his silver rings, handing it to one of the girls. A smile played on your lips at the sight as you realised he was actually paying in silver to have you taught to braid. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------

You sat beside a crackling fireplace, the camp sprawling amidst the trees with tents everywhere around you. An unmistakable tension permeated the air, as it always did on the eve of battle. Some warriors sought solace in ale, others meticulously sharpened their already perfect blades, while some gathered around the fires, sharing stories and seeking comfort in the company, driven sleepless by anticipation. There was no one else at your fire, sitting alone on a fallen log, you hugged your knees, immersed in thoughts, when a warm hand settled on your shoulder.

“Ever fought in a battle before?” Sihtric asked, taking a seat beside you, the firelight dancing in his eyes. “Don’t take me wrong. I know how good you are with the blade. But fighting one to one is different.”

“I know, you’re right and yes, I have. And I will not pretend that it doesn’t scare me. Only a fool would pretend to not fear the chaos of the battle,” you looked up to meet Sihtric’s gaze. “But don’t mistake my fear for weakness. Don’t  think I will waver just because I’m a woman. I proved you wrong once and I’ll do it again, if needed.”

“You’ve nothing to prove to me. I just… I…” Sihtric struggled to find the right words. He wanted to ask you to stay by his side, so that he could protect you, shield you from harm, but he couldn’t find the right words to express that without insulting you. He understood that especially now after you had voiced your suspicion that he still didn’t trust you enough, there was no way of saying what he had intended to. You were a warrior, and he had learned his lesson not to doubt it, he respected that. And yet you were a woman. A woman he loved and cherished so deeply that the mere thought of harm befalling you was agonising and driving him to the brink of madness.

You looked expectantly at Sihtric, waiting for him to finish his saying.

"Could you... braid my hair for the battle tomorrow?" he finally blurted out, his cheeks warm, silently grateful that the fire's shadows hid his flush.

The surprise in your voice was evident. "You'd entrust me with that?"

Sihtric didn’t answer, his eyes full of strange anxiety didn’t leave yours and you swallowed back the joke that was already almost rolling over your lips. 

His eyes, swirling with a mix of vulnerability and intensity, never left yours. He hesitated, before answering, "Among the Danes, there's an old belief. Having your hair braided by someone you truly trust… brings good luck in battle."

The meaning of the words slowly sank into your mind, making a genuine smile appear on your lips. "Trust me, this will be my finest braid," you replied, gesturing for him to sit down in front of you. 

Sihtric slid down from the branch and settled between your legs. You reached out to touch his hair – dark, thick and curly and so pleasantly soft against your fingers, the sensation of the touch so unexpectedly stirring.

You began separating the strands, your fingers working with utmost care and concentration, as you started to pull and twist, enjoying the electrifying feeling of Sihtric’s hair brushing against your fingers. Each strand you took, twisted and wove into the pattern of your choice reminded you of the time you both spent together the last few days. His strong arms wielding the blade like a toy, his face covered with sweat, his concentrated gaze and furrowed eyebrows, as he looked for a weak point in your defences, his genuine laugh at your jokes, his fingers intertwined with yours, teaching you to braid. 

Sihtric shuffled between your legs and you felt a warm flush rising to your cheeks as he leaned back nestling more comfortably between your thighs. 

Your eyes, usually so sharp and observant, softened as they concentrated on the task and you unconsciously bit your lower lip. First small braids on the sides, then some more a bit higher and then the middle one – twist after twist the braids started to take shape, as you meticulously weaved each strand, ensuring not a single one was overlooked or twisted wrongly. 

You tied off the ends and marvelled at your own work, not wanting to let go, to allow this magical moment to end, your fingers remained lingering, tangled in the free curls on the back, and you brushed them gently against the nape of his neck. The touch was fleeting, almost too tender to be noticed, as your fingers slid over his skin for the briefest moment in an unconscious attempt to communicate feelings you were not yet ready to express in words.

Drawing back, pride filled your gaze, your hands resting on Sihtric’s shoulders. "There," you whispered. “You’re ready for the battle.”

You felt Sihtric shudder under your touch, his arms lifting to clasp your hands, pulling them gently to his face and placing a soft kiss on your right palm. 

"Thank you," his voice was husky with emotion, though he didn't turn around to face you. You felt like there was something in the air, something electrical, something unspeakable and indescribable, and you wondered whether it was the looming battle or the accumulation of the suppressed feelings and emotions or maybe both. 

Sihtric slowly touched his braids, a hint of smile playing on his lips. He had finally found the right words. 

“Promise me something,” he murmured, finally turning to face you. “Promise to stay by my side tomorrow. I need to know my left is guarded by such a skilled and formidable warrior as you.” 

You looked in his mismatched eyes, feeling a warmth enveloping you. 

“I promise,” you whispered, lowering yourself down next to Sihtric and almost melting at the feeling of Sihtric’s strong arm enveloping your shoulders, pulling you closer and wrapping his warm fur coat around you both. You leaned against him, the warmth of the fur, combined with Sihtric's steady heartbeat, making the world outside seem to blur. There were no words needed as he held you in his unwavering embrace, the silence between you both and the profound comfort of simply being speaking volumes on their own.

As the night wore on and the camp around you finally slowly drifted into sleep, you both remained wrapped in the coat, holding onto each other and the softness of the moment. His arm, strong and secure, held you close, while your head rested on his shoulder. It was a solace, a reprieve from the world outside, and a reminder of what is worth fighting for, the embrace becoming a silent promise—to stand by each other, come what may.

—----------------------------------------

The battle was over. Sihtric rose to his feet pulling his axe from the dead body, his eyes  searching his surroundings for another enemy to release his anger over, but none remained. The ground, once firm and unyielding, was now a morass of muddied, trampled grass, blood, and the footprints of countless boots and hooves. 

Abandoned weapons littered the field, gleaming dully. Swords, spears, and shields lay strewn around, some half-buried in the earth, others still clutched by lifeless hands. Bodies of the fallen were strewn across the landscape, and vultures were already circling overhead. Small groups of men searched the field for survivors. 

Sihtric looked around and a pang of dread constricted his heart. He still remembered you beside him when the enemy's shield wall shattered. He remembered the fierce look in your eyes, the way you leaped at some random man swinging his axe at you. You had looked like a goddess of war, stabbing, chopping, parring, dancing around your enemies with an ease only you were capable of. But then Sihtric had lost you out of his sight. He had turned to face a big, red faced Dane swinging his impressive war axe at him and when he turned back, his hands smeared with blood pouring out of the Dane’s neck, you were gone.

The air was thick with a mixture of smoke, blood and filth, as Sihtric roamed the battlefield, shouting your name, his face pale and eyes darkening in despair with each moment there was no answer, his breathing growing laboured and hope waning. In the very moment when despair threatened to consume him entirely, he finally spotted you, sitting on a fallen tree at the rand of the battlefield. You sat there with your face, hands and your whole armour smeared with blood, breathing hard, your sword driven into the ground and serving as a support for your arms. 

Rushing to your side, Sihtric knelt before you, his hands framing your face. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?" he asked, his eyes wide, anxiety plainly written on his face.

“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. Nothing that won’t heal by the next new moon.” 

“Don't ever do that again.” Sihtric murmured, his voice just a hush, pressing his forehead against yours. “For a short moment I thought I’d lost you. Believe me, I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

Your fingers slowly touched Sihtric’s face, tracing the lines and scars on his face, your eyes locked. Sihtric’s thumbs gently caressed your cheeks as he slowly, deliberately began to lean in. The space between you both diminished, charged with an electrifying tension, as you felt the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

His fingers brushed your neck, and as you closed your eyes, you felt the tender, hesitant pressure of his lips meeting yours.

“I love you, my fierce warrior,” Sihtric whispered against your lips, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“And I love you too,” you managed to breathe out, your voice barely audible, melting against the gentle touch of his lips against yours. 

It wasn't a fiery, passionate kiss. It was a gentle, lingering one, full of unspoken words and emotions, a culmination of all the shared glances, soft touches and unspoken feelings that had built up between you. It was a deliberate melding, like two flames coming together to form one and every nuance of the kiss spoke volumes—the delicate way Sihtric’s fingers cradled your jaw, the soft brush of his thumb across your cheek, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. 

“Hey, your braids are still intact. I did well, didn’t I” you laughed as you both pulled back, gasping for air.

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (14)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.2k Summary: Florence Fucking Nightingale

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

She’s passed out when he comes back with the gear he’s salvaged. Not a one of them assholes was carrying more than basic first aid which makes them ignorant as well as useless in his opinion. He’d drug the bodies a fair distance away, rolling them down a hill into a nearby ravine. Hopefully it would be enough to keep the scavengers away.

There was already too much blood in the air.

Dropping the things he’s found to the floor he stirs up the fire, hoping the smell of it will cover her injury. Then he digs in her pack, searching for what she bought from the trader. There’s a couple more packs of Rad-Away, and the bottle of Rad-X.

“You didn’t buy any damn stimpacks?” he growls, glaring at her from the corner of his eyes. “What kind of idiot-”

He stops himself before he can go further. Maybe he should have paid better attention at the trading post - maybe they hadn’t even had any stims. He’d been too caught up watching for trouble he’d barely paid attention to them.

“Looks like we’re doing this the old fashioned way.”

He pours antiseptic over a pair of needle nose pliers and unstoppers the bottle of rotgut he finds with his teeth. Crouching next to her he pulls his gloves off and gently tilts her face up, pressing the bottle to her mouth.

“This is going to taste like the south end of a northbound mule, but you’ll thank me later.”

She splutters but he manages to get a good amount down her throat before she refuses to take any more. He lets her lay back down then cuts at the dress near her waist, exposing the wound. It’s jagged, likely not a recycled bullet, and has all the makings of an infection.

“I am sorry about this,” he tells her before settling one hand on her stomach to hold her still. The hand holding the pliers wavers only a moment before he digs in.

“Son of a-”

“Hush,” he chides softly, barely glancing up at her as he applies more pressure to hold her still. “I gotta get this outta you before it festers.” She lets out a whimper and what’s left of his heart turns over. “Talk to me, darling, keep your mind off the pain.”

“About what?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Anything you want.” Whatever she was shot with isn’t coming up easy and he resigns himself to having to dig. “Why’d those boys call you Daisy Mae?”

“Daisy Mae Jackson, Hollywood’s Honeypot.”

He freezes, tilting his head up at her. Now that she says it… “You look a bit like her.”

“I look a lot like her.”

Daisy Mae Jackson was before his time, she’d been an elderly matriarch off the stage when he was still coming up, and her movies weren’t the kind he was much into. But he remembered the films, the gossip that had surrounded her six marriages, the ignominious end in Palm Springs.

“She your grandma?”

“Something like that.”

“What do you mean ‘something like that’?” He asks it more sharply than he intends but he finally found the damn projectile and it’s slippery as a fucking eel.

“I’m her clone.”

The thing slips through the pliers once again and he curses under his breath, wiping at the wound with a cloth and glaring, barely listening to her. “Never knew she had any kids.”

She laughs and he looks up at her face, frowning. “What’s so funny?”

“Not related, same person. Kinda.”

The words finally sink in and he gawks at her. He’d thought she’d looked kind of familiar when he first saw her. But now - she’s a dead ringer for Daisy Mae Jackson in her prime.

“Vault?” Is all he can think to ask.

“Kinda, more of a… facility.”

“Lot of you down there?”

“Off and on.”

He finally catches the edge of the thing and slowly retracts it, breathing a sigh of relief when it comes loose entirely. It’s a bit of scrap metal, ringed red with rust and blood.

“You’re liable to have some trouble from this.”

“I’m always in trouble,” she jokes weakly, giving him a wane smile.

He drops the pliers to the side and reaches for the antiseptic. “Don’t reckon I’ve met a clone before.”

“Well I’ve got a few sisters if you want to go look.”

A thought occurs and he glances back at her, “Thirteen perhaps?”

She nods, holding her hand up and putting her thumb and forefinger almost next to each other. “Missed unlucky thirteen by this much.”

“What happened to the others?”

“Can we not?” She asks suddenly, reaching for the rotgut. Before he can say anything she takes a massive swig, spluttering at the taste before taking another. “I’m gone from there, I’m not going back.”

He can’t help but wonder how badly they might want her back. Say, 5,000 caps worth?

There’s no more talking while he bandages her up, taping the edges down and frowning at his work. It doesn’t look like it’s going to hold for long - he’ll need to keep a close eye on it. She continues to drink like a fish while he cooks up a bit of bounty hunter. She’d never said anything off about the bits of man-jerky he’d been feeding her - and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Here,” he passes a piece to her, his back propped against the side of the cot, “you need to eat something.”

She chews slowly, cracking an eye open to look at him. “I wanna kiss you, you know.”

“Oh?” He tries not to sound too interested. She’s three sheets to the wind and as liable to pass out as give him state secrets.

“Yeah,” she drawls the word, making it take several seconds.

“Why don’t you?” he asks, not looking away from the fire.

“Can’t. Not ever.”

Suddenly her hand is grasping his shoulder in a viselike grip and he nearly falls over in shock when she sits bolt upright. “Darlin’ I-”

“Promise me. Promise me you won’t ever try.”

“I…” Her eyes are wide with fear and he covers her hand with his. “I swear it.”

She nods in return, falling back to the cot. He frowns at her and searches for his pack, tucking it under her head.

“Anything else you want me to-?”

A delicate snore interrupts him and he snorts. He shifts so he can check her bandage, worried she might have aggravated the wound with her theatrics. He ain’t no doctor, it might have been better to leave it exposed, but with things the way they were it just felt like keeping the dirt out of it was the best course. Anyway, it looks good.

Real good.

He frowns and touches the edge, near the open wound. It had been a bit bigger in his memory, big around as a brass button. Now it was no larger than his thumbnail.

A clone of a Hollywood star who healed almost as fast as he did?

“Who the fuck are you?”

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[cynicalrosebud]

Rumor Has It (6)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

CW: Betrayal, blood, canon-typical violence

Rumor sat on the edge of the cot in the team's temporary safehouse, staring at his Glock 19 resting on the small metal table beside him. His reflection in the dark window was a ghost of someone who had been through hell and come out the other side, though not entirely unscathed. The past month had been a whirlwind of chaos, betrayal, and bloodshed—more than he'd seen in all his years of operating on the fringes. He had a lot of experience with morally gray areas, but what had gone down over the last few weeks had pushed the boundaries of everything he thought he knew.

Graves' betrayal had hit the hardest. It wasn’t like Rumor trusted the man—he never had—but there was a certain level of professionalism you expected from a team leader. Watching Graves flip, aligning with Shepherd and turning Shadow Company against them, was something he hadn’t seen coming. The missions had turned from taking down cartels and terrorists to cleaning up a mess left behind by those who were supposed to be on their side. And then Shepherd…

Rumor rubbed his temples, the memory of Price’s cold stare as he pulled the trigger replaying in his mind. He didn’t feel any pity for Shepherd—not after the missiles, the lies, and nearly losing their lives chasing down Hassan. Hassan… Rumor's hand tensed into a fist as he remembered their showdown. Killing him hadn’t been satisfying, not like he thought it would be. Just one more name on a list of people who made things worse.

Then there was Makarov.

Rumor’s heart tightened, his thoughts darkening as he replayed that moment. The sniper shot, Soap dropping like a stone, blood pouring from a graze along his head. For a terrifying few seconds, Rumor thought he'd lost him. Soap had survived, sure, but seeing the Scot nearly taken out had shaken him in a way nothing else had. And it wasn’t just him. Price, Ghost, Gaz—all of them had a moment where they thought Soap was gone. That day had left them all on edge.

Price killing Shepherd had been brutal, efficient, and—more than anything���quiet. Rumor doubted Shepherd had seen it coming, but Price hadn’t cared. Shepherd had crossed a line. Price had made sure there were no loose ends, no trails. He wouldn’t be caught for this, not unless someone dug too deep. But who would? There were so many bodies piling up in the wake of Shepherd’s lies that no one would bat an eye if one more disappeared in the chaos.

Laswell had taken charge of Task Force 141 after that. It made sense. She had always been the real backbone of the team. Rumor respected her, though it felt like something had shifted in the team. Shepherd’s betrayal had taken more than just their trust in their chain of command—it had left a scar.

Rumor let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He’d been promoted to Sergeant and officially brought into the 141. It wasn’t how he imagined joining the team, but then again, nothing about the last month had gone according to plan. He was part of the 141 now—officially. No more hanging around the edges, no more being a wildcard. He was in it, for better or worse.

And yet, despite everything, they were still standing. The 141 was battered but unbroken, moving forward, mission after mission. They had to. There was no time to rest, no time to dwell on the betrayals, the close calls. There were always more enemies, more threats. And as long as they stood together, Rumor knew they could handle it.

But the weight of it all still clung to him. He glanced back at the Glock, then at his reflection, whispering to himself, “Bloody month, huh?”

The door to the safehouse creaked open, and Soap stepped in, rubbing his head where the graze had left a thin scar. "Rumor," he said with a half-smile. "Ye ready? Price says we’ve got a briefing in five."

Rumor gave a small nod, standing up and grabbing his gear. "Aye, I’m ready. Just—" He hesitated for a split second, looking at Soap with a tired smile. "Glad you're still here, Albannaidd."

Soap grinned. "Takes more than Makarov to put me down."

Rumor chuckled, feeling a little lighter. "Good. Because I think I’d go mad without your constant yammering."

Soap slapped him on the back, laughing as they walked out of the room together. For a moment, things felt almost normal—just two soldiers, brothers-in-arms, facing whatever came next.

As they joined the rest of the team in the briefing room, Rumor’s mind shifted to the next mission. He wasn’t just Rumor anymore—he was 141, through and through.

And no matter what came next, he was ready.

[what-the-ship]

Healing Touch

Here is my contribution to the rare pair that gnaws at my brainstem.

Obligatory sickfic. Tigerghost. TW: vomiting No beta, we die like Danny

Superheroes don’t get sick. Or so they like to tell themselves. Especially one Manuel Pablo Gutierrez O'Brian Equihua Rivera! 

It wouldn’t be so bad if he were at his place in Miracle City. There he could be weak around his family. At Headquarters, that was a different story. There wasn’t a room dedicated to personal use except for Jimmy. It was his dimension after all. Timmy had been pressuring the genius into expanding to allow for at least one room to be used for sleeping. The idea was shot down every time. His brillant idea was taken from some popular space travel series where the lower decks slept in the hallway. Sure they got their own shelf but it was still a hallway at the end of the day. When Manny first saw it he was reminded of catacombs.  

 So when Manny woke up one random Thursday with a pounding headache and a sore throat all he could do was groan. 

“Manny?” Inquired the voice of Timmy somewhere beyond his sight. When Manny went to answer he gave a dry, raspy cough. The cough hurt his stomach so bad he ended up throwing up on the floor. Since there was nothing in his stomach it somehow made it hurt even more. Timmy was now shouting and alarms were going off. Manny felt like crying as the sound drilled into his already-pounding head. 

When he awoke there was something cool pressed against his forehead. It felt amazing. Allowing his more cat-like instincts to take over he nuzzled into the coolness. To his delight, a second soft coolness was placed on his neck. Curiosity winning he opened his eyes to investigate the source of delight. To his shock, he saw a pair of blue eyes staring down at him. Jet black and snow white hair framed the most delightful face. 

“Ángel,” Manny whispered before closing eyes to get some more sleep. The next time he awoke his head was feeling much better. He looked around wondering where he was. It wasn’t his room in his dimension and it certainly wasn’t his shelf in the hallway. 

“Oh you are awake,” Jimmy had entered the room without Manny noticing. He must still be out of it. He was dressed in a hazmat suit and carrying a clipboard. Trotting next to him was his robotic dog Goddard. 

“Therometer.” Commanded the teen genius holding his hand out for Goddard to produce said item in his upturned hand. He then swiped the device across Manny’s forehead. 

“Thirty-seven point four degrees centigrade.” Announced Jimmy as he made a note of it. “Not perfect but acceptable. If you are up for it, I can have some soup and crackers brought down.”

“Soup sounds good.” He really could go for his mom's sopa azteca right now. Manny was left alone again to look around the room. It looked like a barracks complete with metal bunk beds. He was currently on the bottom bunk at the moment. Hoping he could convince the person above him to switch places. He was always more of an up cat.  

“Soups on!” Spongebob sang out as he danced into the room. He then sat down the trey on Manny’s lap. Manny gave a smile and a thanks as he looked over the meal. He frowned a little. It looked a little like caldo de pollo but not. Chicken bits and carrots checked out. The stringy noodles confused him slightly. There wasn’t much of a smell and the broth was far too clear. Not wanting to seem ungrateful he ate a spoonful. 

Bland. He gave a smile and thanked the chef. Spongebob smiled before excusing himself. The second the door shut Manny set the whole tray on the floor in disgust. He could feign sickness for not finishing. Sipping the lukewarm water he debated on trying to get up or get some more sleep. Splitting the difference he located his phone to scroll lazily for a while. The door opened again and Manny instantly geared up his too-sick-to-eat act. To his surprise it was Danny. He was carrying a paper bag in both hands. His soft smile morphed into confusion at the sight of the tray on the floor. 

“Not up for eating?” Danny frowned at the practically untouched now cold soup. Danny set down the bag to use the spoon to poke at the flimsy noodles. “Can’t say I blame you. Maybe you’re up for something different.” 

Danny pulled out a styrofoam bowl with a plastic lid from the bag. He peeled off the lid releasing the smoky scent of pozole. Manny almost spilled the treasure in his excitement. He took a sip straight from the container as Danny fished out a spoon from the paper bag. 

“Gracias guapo.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Timmy entered a second later with a bulging backpack.

 “Congratulations on getting us the Nap Room! I call top bunk.” Declared Timmy throwing his bag on one of the other metal bunk beds. Timothy Turner, ever the opportunist. Like the pre-evolution of a lawyer.  

“Just wish you didn’t have to puke on the floor to get it.” Danny tacked on.

“Anything for my amigos.” Manny flashed a winning smile getting one back from the ghostly hero. “Speaking of hooking amigos up, where can I get some of those ice packs?” 

“Ice packs?” Timmy paused in turning his bed into a nest. He was standing on the ladder as he spread out a small blanket. He had to twist his upper body to look back at the duo.

“Yeah. The ones from earlier. Oh, man. I would wear those things all night. They were so soft and perfect.” Manny stopped praising the ice packs as Danny’s face became redder and redder. 

“Oh no I got you sick. Here,” Manny panicked slightly holding out his half-eaten meal. Danny politely declined as he made an excuse to leave. 

“Oye I mean it. I could sleep with those things all night.” 

“Oh I bet you could,” Timmy smirked. “All. Night. Long.”

“Isn’t it about time you go bother Jimmy?” Danny was now in his defensive posture. 

“Not til two. Besides I am very interested in Manny’s story about how he could spend the night with-” Timmy’s speech was cut off by a carefully placed mini plasma shot right to his backside. It was just enough to cause the teen to give a yelp. 

“Worth it.” Groaned the brunette through clenched teeth.

Danny had already left the room before Manny got his answer. Making a mental reminder he polished off his soup trying to recall the details of his strange dream about the angel.

[janicekao]

May

The Gods Allow It

Pairing: King Aegon II x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the series "House Of The Dragon." During a day of sitting on the irone throne and listening to the requests of the people of King's Landing, the young King Aegon sits through it clearly bored and unamused until he lays eyes on a beautiful woman who he has never seen before... A girl who is the daughter of King's Landing’s finest Blacksmith, Lady Tabitha Atkins. Warnings: mideival fantasy, time piece, rough s3x, d0m&femsub, vi0lence, smut, v1rginity taking, mentions of !ncest, fan fiction, br33ding k1nk, praise k1nk, etc. 9438 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -----------------------------------

Our bodies glisten with sweat as I throb inside of her tightening cunt, so very deep in her core that my swollen cockhead brushes against her cervix each time she bucks.

She loves it.

Voice whiny and full of sweet whimpers as she reaches for her climax, biting her bottom lip, and infatuated with how full she feels as she impales her cunny on my every inch.

I've lost count of the days since she's been here, and I have no hopes of her ever leaving.

Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing, daughter of Sir Joseph Atkins, the town's finest Blacksmith.

The absolute love of my life.

———

A far cry from a year ago or so, I sat the iron throne listening to all of King's Landing who came to their King with requests. My people were starving, poor, and in need of help. Families complained of starvation, farmers wished to be paid for their livestock that are eaten by our dragons, and the Blacksmith wanted payment for the many swords he slaved over hot fires to make my knights gear and weapons for war.

I honestly couldn't have cared less.

An elder half sibling of mine believes that she is the rightful heir to the iron throne, and because of this... War is now upon us.

I sat there that day lying to the faces of my people.

"You will be reimbursed for all that you have contributed for the sake of the crown." I yawned nonchalantly. "I, as King Aegon Targaryen II of all the seven kingdoms promise to take care of King's Landing first, after our victory in the Battle of Throne."

I knew it wasn't true, but I still said it. I am the King of Westeros, I'll forever take what is needed to protect my rights to the throne regardless of who may be affected in the long run. My dragons will be fed, and my men will be prepared for battle if any means necessary... The crown always comes first.

My dishonesty to the faces of the loyal people of King's Landing became easier said than done when the face of the Blacksmith, Joseph Atkins came along with the presence of an angel...

I lost focus. I wasn't able to lie any further, at least not to him and his company.

Each time this Blacksmith visits the throne with requests, he is covered in soot from working tirelessly near the scorching flames that burn and shape his metal... That day, the girl beside him was covered in it as well. Clearly a relative and I needed to know more about her.

Who was the girl with the shimmering brown flesh, long legged with full lips, and a breathtaking scowl?

I needed to know.

Sir Joseph Atkins began to speak about the reimbursement he required for the perfectly crafted steel he had produced for the crown's army.

I interrupted him without a single care of the words escaping his tongue. "Who is she?"

"Her?" He asked as I nodded with haste.

The gentleman stood with a proud chest. "May I present to you Your Grace, my daughter. Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing. My greatest gift from the Gods, and my trusty assistant in the Steel shop."

"Tabitha."I repeated the name with a wide smile as the word melted from my mouth like delicious cream... Gods, what a sight to see. The Hall quaked with gasps as I stood from my very own throne and bowed lightly to the tawny princess that needed to be mine.

An enchanting furrow in the brow from the nerves that fell upon her, clearly afraid of me, being that I am the King. She had obvious ill thoughts about me and my character... However gracefully, she bowed in return anyway.

It was unfair the way that she was making me feel. How much she made me come out of my usual corrupt comfort; I became determined to make her feel it too. I wanted her to be just infatuated with me as I suddenly was with her.

"The King's hand will prepare your payment, Sir Atkins." I immediately gave way to anything that would make Tabitha happy. If it was to pay her father for his labor, then so it be. "The crown appreciates your loyalty and skill."

A smile and a breath of fresh air released from the man. "Thank you my King!"

"—Under one circumstance." I interrupted. "Leave here Lady Tabitha. I'd like to familiarize myself with other youth of King's Landing... I am the King, as well as a young man."

Man to man, Sir Atkins knew exactly what I wanted with his daughter. He froze with an uneasy scowl, knowing good and well that if he left his child here with me, she'd be spent across my cock by nightfall.

But I had no plans to harm her. I gave my word. "Just for a small gathering. Lady Tabitha will be well taken care of here at the Red Keep. She will be returned, unharmed."

The elderly gentleman turned to his daughter. He waited for her permission even if it meant that denying me of her could have caused him his own head. Proud, and brave, Tabitha nodded in agreement. She wanted no issues with the crown... eager to do very much anything if it meant the safety and dignity of her family.

That evening for supper, an extremely long table divided us. Tabitha at the end, and I at the head of the dining table. The chambermaids had turned her prettier than a portrait, yet she still sat unhappy.

"Your Grace, you promised a gathering." She hesitated. "However, it is only you and I dining together."

Clearly I withheld the full truth... But why else would I had invited others when it was only her who captivated my attention, my entire being.

"The servants do not count?" Gently, I teased and waited for a laugh that never came.

"No, your Grace." Tabitha cleared her throat and frowned. "They do not."

I began to grow tired of her attitude. It was clear that she was not keen of her King and that she did not plan to make this evening any less difficult.

Being a considerably spoiled young man, it fumed me how bad I wanted her to accept me. As the King, I could do with her as I pleased. If I wanted to, I didn't need to wait a second more for her to embrace me, I could have taken her however I wanted.

Her dress enticed me. The chambermaids had dressed her in a low neckline and in my favorite shades... Colors that danced across her dark skin like velvet.

Although I smiled, my thoughts grew more wicked each second.

So used to women and whores falling at my feet and being far less difficult, my mind turned into impatient mush. My cock ached to be taken out of its confinements. I imagined masturbating over her until I could watch my seed drip down her face, breasts, and dinner plate.

... But instead, I sighed and kept my cuth. "Tell me about yourself." I insisted on conversation.

She paused.

"I am the daughter of a Blacksmith." Uninterested with where this could take us, Tabitha sighed as she began. "I take pride in taking care of my family, my community, and especially my younger siblings."

"How lovely!—" I went on to sweetly boast about her caring nature when I became rudely interrupted.

Tabitha continued abruptly. "—These are the very same people who starve daily as your loyal peasants. Yet, we still fill our every day catering to the likes of you, Your Grace. Giving our everything to the crown when we can hardly fill our own bellies. Livestock that our people raise big and strong for years just to be swallowed whole by your God awful dragons when that meat could be salted and last man an entire year of keeping King's Landing fed and surviving."

"People, children are sick and dying!" Tabitha shouted. "Eating fish from the surrounding waters for their every course because it is the only thing that is plentiful around here! Well, I can assure you one thing Sir... Guts from a fish is far from the daily nourishment that YOUR people need to survive..." That is what I can say about myself, Your Grace. I am your subject, not your friend."

"WINE." She demanded and the servants fetched it quickly.

She began to feed like a swine piglet. Gulping down rich wine and licking the bones of her lamb chops clean.

She was hungry, and she hated me.

The disrespect was unfathomable. I began to flame red, never had ever been spoken to in such way in my entire life. I couldn't tell in the very moment if I wanted to kill her, or fuck her senseless.

But what I did know is that I couldn't say my piece from far across the table.

I rose to my feet and the servants began to gasp. I shouted for their dismissal and Tabitha tensed when we became very alone in the dining hall.

She was the naughtiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on and I couldn't wait to take a bite.

Sitting in a guest chair an inch away from her, I could smell Tabitha's fear. But if you were to look at her grimace... you'd have not an idea that she was afraid. I was pissed, but Gods... If she wasn't fit for a Queen, I wouldn't know who else could be.

"I welcome you to the Red Keep as an honorary guest, and you sit before me spitefully accusing me of things that are far over your head, Lady Atkins do you have a death wish?" I bit through my teeth as my face inched closely towards hers.

"I am honest." She gulped.

"And honesty will get you killed." I snapped.

My eyes enjoyed being able to watch her so closely.

"Look at you, complaining of being starved with not an inch of extra room in this dress!" I taunted her as I pinched at her deliciously full thighs.

Tabitha squealed at my touch, she swatted my hand as tears swole in her eyes. "I was forced here!"

"Forced?" I sarcastically chuckled. "Ah yes because you seem to be so mistreated with wine dripping down your lips that is more expensive than you are."

Her jaw ticked with rage. "I don't have a price, I cannot be bought. I am not a whore.

"I never expected you to be." I frowned, aggravated at her lack of eye contact as my fingers graced her chin and turned her gaze back to me.

"Your chamber maidens bathed me." Her voice became weak. She was embarrassed that I had called on her in front of her father, in front of all of King's Landing.

I loved how she stared at me for answers... Tabitha's large brown eyes swallowed me up as her tears continued to swell. "They styled my hair, forced me into expensive garments, and shaved my cunt bare."

A chill down my spine made me shudder at the thought of her being so soft and silky beneath her dress.

"I am here to be your whore, am I not?" She asked impatiently.

"No." I refused. "Not my whore, but you are here to be mine, yes. To be my whore I would've bedded you by now, without a care of getting to know you. When I met you today I became captivated by you, I want you to feel the same."

She immediately rolled her eyes with a rude ill-mannered scoff.

"Play immature games if you want to, Tabitha... But never in your life have you come to the iron throne with your father." I dug further into her true intentions as her chest rose and fell in anticipation. "Now what made you come this morning on the day of requests, hm? Answer me!Is it because you had a request yourself? Or maybe you wanted to see the rumored usurper king in the flesh? No— you came to let me lay eyes upon you, so you could play with my heartstrings. I believe you knew what you were doing all along, what do you think?"

...

Tabitha gulped, she turned away once more from my gaze as she continued with her supper. "I think perhaps you should leave my space and try the pudding, aren't you starved?"

"More than most." I snarled. "But not for fucking pudding."

Swiping the table clean, Tabitha's tray of royal cuisine met the ground.

I grabbed hold of her, lifting her onto the tabletop as I searched frantically beneath her skirt.

She gasped, immediately forgetting formalities as she shouted out my first name. "Aegon!"

"Hush." I demanded. "Let your King take care of you."

I ridded her small clothes as if I was a child unwrapping candy. I pressed her chest backwards, forcing her to lay against the table as the skirt of her dress crept above her waist.

Gods, she was as prepped and bare as she had promised. Between her thighs glossed over with the arousal she had been denying and her mound was bountiful like a deliciously ripe peach.

My mouth attacked at her without letting a drop of her nectar go to waste. The kisses I laid upon her clit made her jolt and whimper in desperation.

Tabitha's hands pushed away at me to the point of having to force her wrists to the table as I devoured my meal. I allowed her sweet digits back when they began to comb and grip lightly through my platinum-white Targaryen tresses.

Her moans were sounds of gratification... All I've ever wanted was someone, anyone to wish me a job well done. Commend me of my efforts and assure me that I was indeed a good boy. "Is it good for you?"

Her choked sobs were enough of an answer... Her flesh flushed red as her pussy began to pulse and I knew she would soon climax across my lips.

Tabitha's hips began to grind across my face as she reached urgently for her precipice. Her pleads made her voice crack as the sound of her brain-rot echoed through the dining hall. My thumb circled her pearl as my tongue dipped in and out of her core. She came with a flavorsome cry, I groaned into her pussy and drank her release like a man starved. My tongue soaked her sweet cum up as freshly baked bread does balsamic oil.

My trousers so full of sticky precum and a hard cock, it made me brutish. I lifted Tabitha in my arms bridal style as she lay tiresome and still in shock. I warned her of my plans... I warned her that I was to take her to my chambers and we were to spend the night... the coming days... the coming weeks and months with nothing but earth shattering sex. I was to take her maidenhead, and make her part of the Red Keep, part of me.The argumentative minx had not one issue with what I had informed her with. She no longer cared to save herself for a husband because in that very moment, I was just as much hers as she was mine.

I carried her out of the dining hall with orders to the Hand of the King of what I wanted completed.

"Have the cooks prepare the same supper and have it delivered to the Atkins residence." I demanded. "Make sure it's enough for them to share with whomever they may desire."

"Anything else Your Grace?" I was asked.

I stared in the round brown irises that won my heart over.

"Aye." I nod. "Gather the council by morning-fall. King's Landing is starving, their King needs to mend their trust. Rationing... will be the subject matter of discussion."

Otto Hightower, My Grandsire and King's Hand stared at me with looks of daggers... I could see that he saw me as a foolish King, changing plans and making differences for the likes of a woman... but I couldn't have cared less.

With the title of being King of Westeros, anything is possible and everything is in my hands.

Hightower bowed. "I will relay your message to the council, Your Grace."

I looked towards Tabitha and the scowl that stained her face was finally gone... Now left with a magnificent smile that seemed to be gifted by the Gods themselves.

Our lips met as we journeyed to my chambers. As I stole her maidenhead, she stole my heart. We drank, we laughed, I even found that we shared the very same night of birth under the summer season and full moon twenty-two years ago. She was me, and I was her. Finding her was the sense of completeness I had been looking for my entire life.

———

"Aegon! I hate when you do that." Tabitha complains. She takes notice to my quiet daydreaming as she continues to ride me as if I was saddled. "Focus on me, baby."

I chuckle sweetly as I find my bottom lip bitten between my teeth, refocusing on her tight cunny that chokes my manhood and drains my stamina. "I always am focused on you my love. I found myself reminiscing on the day that I made you mine. Nearly a year today, an approaching anniversary... Thoughts help me holdout a bit until you have reached yours, now it's my turn."

"Ah yes... The day I met you upon the iron throne. I should've known trouble was amongst me." Tabitha softly flirts.

"I waited." She begins to smile, whispering against my lips. "Wanted to reach ecstasy, together."

"Mmm." I hiss lightly, adoring her wildly. "Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing... I love you with every being of my body."

"Then show me." She insists.

...

I do as I'm told.

As I lay Tabitha onto her back, my hand slips across the soft skin of her belly, through the full globes of her breast, and to her throat where I begin to choke lightly. Her legs spread, inviting me into her warmth and it only takes a second for me to find my flesh sheathed in the depths of her core.

I find a rhythm that is rough and commanding and I watch her lips fall open with strangled gasps. Tabitha attempts at a wiggle to separate us. Wanting me to allow her a momentary second of rest before she melts into the sheets. However, overly dizzy for her sex, I refuse the escape... pressing my heavy body further against hers and deepening my impale. The walls of her cunt contract against my cock, I begin to feel numb and see stars as my words stammer dumbly. Gods... Her sex could rise a dead man from the ground, and I'm the only one lucky enough to have had it.

"Fuccckk." A groan escapes the depths of my throat as I nearly give in and spill into her.

Tears of passion fill her luscious lash line and she can only squeak out soft sounds as her digits grip the sheets beneath us.

Licking my lips like a hungered man, I begin to grin as I watch her in her blissful pleasure. I cup Tabitha's face and kiss her tenderly as the kisses create faint bruises down her neck and soon down her chest where I begin to enjoy the swirling of my tongue across her aroused buds.

"You looked incredible wrapped around my cock." I softly appreciate her breathtaking beauty.

I roll my hips in a speeding passion as my cockhead knocks impatiently at her g-spot. "Aegon— please."Tabitha weeps out a beg as her nails find way into my skin.

Her pussy sops for me, creating lewd music that echoes within the walls of my chambers.

My mouth hangs ajar as I moan out worships for her.

"Gods!" I complain. "My sweet girl, does that feel good?"

She nods immediately. "So good— so good, Aegon."

My pounding weakens as I feel the need to erupt. I grab Tabitha's full hips, dimpling them with the strength of my fingers as I stretch her with the full length of my cock... I bottom out into her until my sack is flushed against her cunt and begins to drain. Tabitha dissolves into pleasure as my hot seed spickets into her core while she reaches her peak.

I expel constant grunts, body jerking each time my cum stutters a bit of its load out of me until I am left limp and soaked in a mess of our love.

Tabitha's eyebrows furrow as she powers her way through an intense climax, legs shaking until the thrill passes by her. Her chest rises and falls as she draws in breath, soon beginning to chuckle in disbelief of the moment that we have shared together..

"Gods!" She pants sweetly. "Again, Aegon?"

I chuckle gently as I place a gentle peck to her lips. I begin to peel her knees further apart. My lip catches in between my teeth as my pupils dilate, watching closely at the foray I caused upon her pretty little mound.

"Let me watch it leak out of you." I insist as my body heats again with arousal while I  watch my pearly spend seep out of her pretty flower.

The corners of her lips begin to quirk upwards, teasing me gently as she pushes the semen out of her core and let it seep down her thighs.

My jaw clenches, eyes rolling back into my skull. "Fuck that's good, and you my dear— are terribly delicious and absolutely evil."

Tabitha finds her way to my chest, having me to lay backwards in the pillows and wrap my arms around her as she listens in on my heartbeat.

She sighs gently. "What's evil, is having to drink another of your Maester's tea."

"Aegon." Tabitha begins to pout over the awful medicinal herbal tea used to prevent or abort pregnancy. "If I am to drink another Moon-Tea, I think I'll die."

My hands gently comb through her wild mane of jet-black curls, full and thriving in its natural state after another day of addictive fucking. "So don't drink it... give me child, my dear."

She immediately lifts her head from my chest with a scorning frown. "You've gone mad."

"I haven't." I insist. "What will come of us? How will we create a stain, evidence of our love?"

"Aegon." She refuses the thought. "You and I cannot marry. You must marry a high-born, not the daughter of one of your subjects. Our children would be Targaryen bastards!"

"Yes!" I continue to plead. "Haven't you given it thought? My Targaryen hair, your tawny skin, and big brown eyes... the most handsome children in all of Westeros. They'll have it all. They will speak High Valyrian and ride their own dragon... Tabitha, please."

"Aegon, don't begin with this." Her refusal is unbending. She begins to dress in her nightgown, giving my voice not another thought. "With your hair, it would be clear that my children are Targaryen bastards. You'd be looked down upon as a whoring King, and I'd be looked down upon— well, as the whore!"

I scoff. "So we will wrap their hair in garment in the eye of the public if we must! It does not matter Tabby, they will be protected always and live under my roof as Princesses and Princes."

"You asked me if I have ever given it thought..." She rejoins me on the bed with a gentle hold to my hand. "I've thought about it every day since we've met, Aegon. Don't you think that I would love to be your Queen and have your children? It would be my dream to have a family with the man that I love. But sadly, that's all it will ever be, a dream.We both knew the risks of being together. We recognized that our relationship would be kept forever secret and we still went on about it. Aegon, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

Dying to continue the conversation, I even begin to imagine her womb full with my seed. I'd be sure to have the servants wait on her hand and foot... She'd wear the prettiest gowns, and her essence would make the Red Keep the most beautiful it's ever been as she would fill it with her fertility and grace.

However, the tears in her eyes pain me more to see... I can't bear to stress the situation any longer.

...

"Let's have a night of rest." I smile softly. "Only sweet dreams for thoughts."

I softly wipe Tabitha's fallen tears as she nods in agreement.

Becoming meek and childlike, she dissipates into my arms as I blow out the candles that light our chambers, and I tuck her into the satin sheets.

"Goodnight." I coo faintly. "No more worries my love, rest now."

———

Morning light stings my eyes as they begin to open, I find my dearest Tabitha above me, already dressed for the day.

I sit up from bed with playful and light jester. "Out of the many hours of morning sex that we should be having, why are you already dres—"

My words are cut short with a cruel slap across the face.

My ears ring from the forceful strike and when they finally stop, I find my lover absolutely distraught and in tears...

As my hearing comes back, my heart aches from the way that she sobs. "Tabitha?" I instantly whimper.

"You vile— sick, sick, man." The words grit through her teeth and I worry frantically for what it is that she has found out.

"YOU FILL ME WITH YOUR DISGUSTING SEED!" She begins in thunderous shouting. "You speak of a life where we are to have children together, when you have already fucked two inside of your own sister!"

My blood runs cold knowing that she knows my darkest regret... "I need to explain."

"I awaken early on the search for your Maester! For him to begin a batch of the Moon-Tea, and that is when I overheard it all!" Tabitha begins to lose color... her brown skin paling from heartbreak. "Your mother, the Maester, and your seventeen year old sister Helaena! She was lying on her back! Having an inspection by the Maester beneath her skirt when she was congratulated by him and your mother for bearing your twins! They congratulated her as the bloody Queen of Westeros!"

"Tabitha, damn it!" I spazz and my mind begins to spin with shame and anger. "The nerve of you to slither around your King's castle! Eavesdropping in on business of not your own!"

"FUCK YOU!" She spits. "I am so disgusted that I can hardly breathe without the need to vomit! Not only have you lied, withheld from me that you had already found your Queen and have been married! But for the sake of the Gods, SHE IS YOUR BABY SISTER!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I AM ALREADY DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF ENOUGH?" I stand to my feet to argue and my height frightens Tabitha enough to flinch at the tone of my voice. "I had no say in this Tabitha! Helaena and I hated the thought but it was pushed amongst us by the council! By our mother! They did not want just a high-born queen! They wanted the bloodline strictly Targaryen! This was forced upon us, Tabby!"

Tabitha's delicate hand graces her forehead as the other places on her stomach as she begins to feel even more ill. "You bedded your sister...Relieved yourself of pleasure inside of her..."

"Hear me when I tell you that it will only ever be once..." I tremble as I notice the love drain from in between us. "I was promised that giving the title of Queen to my sister and giving her an heir to the throne on our wedding night, that you and I would never have to separate... I was promised your very own knights of protection for you and your loved ones and that you all could live permanently here in the Red Keep. You are to by my only lover! Helaena maybe my Queen, but she and I view each other as only siblings!"

I clench my eyes tightly shut, reminiscing on the night I was forced to take my sister's virginity. I drank myself silly with wine just to bear it, and poor Helaena and I stuck it through for the sake of the crown.

"Gods! So now I am to blame for this incestral breeding!?" Tabitha scoffs. "You are absolutely sick in your head Aegon! I never would have agreed to this! EVER!"

As I step closer to her to beg for her forgiveness, Tabitha steps back.

"I must leave now..." She gulps. "I cannot— I cannot be apart of this, the Gods aren't happy."

"I love you." Tears begin to drop down my face and I stutter like a child being disciplined. "I need you. You cannot leave! I can— I can fix this."

I plead aimlessly. "I am the King of the seven kingdoms. You will never need nor want for anything regardless of your status here in the castle. You're mine."

She ignores me...

Tabitha wipes her tears and grabs for her cloak to leave the Red Keep through the secret exit.

Without a thought of what to do, I become a mad man... using my title and authority to get what I want.

"I AM YOUR KING!" My jaw ticks as I shout. "YOU ARE TO DO AS YOU ARE TOLD OR ELSE! YOU ARE MINE, TABITHA. I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF. I DEMAND YOU TO SIT DOWN AND GO NOWHERE UNLESS TOLD OTHERWISE!"

...

Tabitha freezes with tears and hatred burning within her eyes.

"Fine." She gulps, suddenly stripping out of her garments and lying back in bed. "As you make clear a million times a day or more, you are King Aegon Targaryen of the seven kingdoms. If you shall want me your Lordship, there is nothing I can do other than to continue being yours. But I'll have you know, from this day on I will never love you the same."

"Tabitha, please."I beg softly for her to stop the act of kissing loyally at my arse like the rest of King's Landing... I just want her back, I want everything the way that it was.

"Will you have me, or am I free to be dismissed your Lordship?" She lays on the unmade bed, still and avoiding eye contact.

"YOU WILL STAY!" I explode.

"Yes, Your Grace." She continues calmly. "I am ready to be used whenever you are ready to use me."

"What are you doing? Get up!" Her act of a common whore aggravates me further.

She continues anyway. "I am your loyal servant, Your Grace. Do as you please with my body."

"Get up!" My voice breaks as I continue to argue one-sidedly. "Quit with this foolishness. Your taunting is unacceptable!"

"Tabby, call me Aegon." I beg sheepishly. "Baby, I am your Aegon."

She continues robotically. "Whatever you ask, Your Grace."

I fully erupt. Grabbing hold of the full steel canister of wine, I throw it across the chambers until it hits the wall... crumbling stone to the ground from the force.

The throw startles Tabitha, she breaks out of her act and tearfully attempts to run past me. I grab hold of her wrists, pulling her into me as I beg for another chance. "Tabitha! Please! Please stop, I need you."

"Get away from me!" She fights senselessly, bruising herself as she tries to pull from my grasp.

The large double doors of my chambers open... The racket causes my mother Alicent to intervene. "What is going on in here!?"

"Mother!" I demand. "Out of my chambers!"

...

She watches upon the love of my life as if she was a stinky street harlot.

"You should leave." She speaks to Tabitha. "The King's Queen will be visiting her husband shortly."

"You mean his sister." Tabitha quickly bites.

...

"Aegon, I'll have your whore's tongue for less." Mother begins to boil over from the unfamiliarity of Tabitha's sharp tongue.

"No worries, Your Grace." Tabitha wipes her tears, bowing to my mother respectfully as she laces the last loop in the corset of her dress. "I was just leaving."

"Tabitha!" Although still bare and only wrapped in a sheet, I still attempt to chase after her as she exits. However, my mother stops me...

"It's for the best." Alicent's hand stops me at the chest. "A King who is at war over his throne does not have time to worry about the heart of a common girl. Aegon... You are King now. The responsibility of the crown is in your hands, act like it."

I watch my mother with pure hatred...

So quick to worry about the well-being of the crown, and never once the wellness of her children.

If she hadn't brought me life, I would have had the guards take her head many moons ago.

"Your chambermaids are on the way to dress you, my King." Mother smiles maniacally and caresses my face with her soft hand. "You must sit the throne today for King's Landing's requests... They need their King, Aegon. You'll have to let her go."

Let her go?

Easier said, than done.

Together, we watch Tabitha run out of the trailing hallways of the Red Keep.

Her image and the sound of her footsteps become smaller the further that she runs... And the further that she runs, the more prominent my heartache grows.

Mother stares in disgust. "She never had the strength of a Targaryen anyways... it wasn't meant to be."

Doing as told... I dress for the day as mother leaves.

Although I am escorted to the hall of the iron throne to answer the requests of my subjects, my eyes continue to fill with tears. I push them back, needing to find strength for my people. But, how am I to answer requests, when there is no one to answer my own?

Who is there to request a plead from a King? Perhaps the Gods...

Perhaps the Gods will fulfill my one and only request, to bring back the love of my entire being... My forever lady, Tabitha Atkins.

———

Three years later

I wake up in absolute agony, shouting for more Milk of the Poppy to dull my pain.

Ever since my incident, I tend to sleep all day due to the medicines given to me by the Maester. As I sleep, I either dream about the love that I lost years ago, or I dream about the terrible events of my most recent near death experience.

I've made awful decisions in my short term of being King, but nothing as bad as riding my dragon into a battle while being inebriated off of too much wine.

I had a death wish... A foolish one at that. But tired of living a life of depression, loveless, and never taken seriously... the mind will drive you to do insane work.

I may be the face of the crown, but my council and my mother feel that my ideas are idiotic and simple... They feel that I was never fit to rule, and that I should sit quietly and be useless, let them take control of the rulings of Westeros.

First they take a man's love, and then they take his power. What could be next now that they've taken it all?

I became careless with the things that I do... I decided to get wine drunk and I rode my poor dragon Sunfyre into the battle at Rook's Rest... A battle I had no business being at. Somehow I survived it... Third degree burns laced across my body, yet I am still here.

But the worst part of it all is knowing that the reason Sunfyre and I were burned to the ground was all out of one person's spite.

My own brother... Prince Aemond...

My last memory before everything went black for months was Aemond's dragon Vhagar opening his gullet of fire after Aemond's command.

"Dracarys." He attempted to kill me with this command.

I realized then how much I have absolutely no one in this life... Aemond, just like our mother Alicent, thirsty and jealous for the crown to the point of sabotaging their own blood.

My brother expected me to die that day. He expected to permanently become the King, but because I survived, he only fills my place on the throne momentarily...

As I become better, I still fear for my life. If he tried to kill me once, he is sure to try it again.

I spent my days childishly being my brother Aemond's first bully... and now I am reaping what I sewed. But as dangerous as he is, and the things that he is capable of doing... I could never trust the innocent people of Westeros in his hands, especially not with Tabitha Atkins and her family still living here in King's Landing.

With Aemond in charge, there will be war and there will be blood... Not just bloodshed from each fighting side, but deadly war crimes to Westeros' innocent subjects.

If all things are out of my control in this very moment, the least I can do is get word out to Lady Tabitha... thus I owe to her.

Grand Maester Orwyle enters into my chambers with more Milk of the Poppy, but being that there are things to be done... I cannot take it.

"Maester..." I begin. "No more Milk of the Poppy."

"But for your pain, Sire?" He frowns.

"I understand." Even the small things like gulping down my throat or speaking pains me in this day. "But my mind must stay sharp, I have a task I need you to complete with the guards... I need it done discreetly."

"Yes, Your Grace." Maester Orwyle nods. "Whatever you may need."

As I lay here, I begin to create a plan. I order the Maester to discreetly bring Lady Tabitha Atkins to my chambers here in the Red Keep. I ask him to bring help if needed be, knowing that Tabitha could good and well stubbornly refuse my command... I demand that if the girl attempts do dismiss Maester Orwyle, that he will instruct the guards to take her from the residence by force. Speaking with her is a dire need of mine not knowing what may happen in the future with my brother in charge as Prince Regent.

Maester Orwyle begins to leave with haste...

I stop him once more... Suddenly I become insecure with my injuries, wondering how my deformities look being that I haven't seen my reflection since my injuries were fresh.

"Maester." I gulp. "My skin... Am I able to even take a visitor, or am I still leaking of pus and absolutely hideous?"

Having to ask a question like such is the hardest thing I have ever done... I never in my life expected to ask another man if my flesh was still charred and horrid.

A tear rolls down my face and Maester Orwyle kindly takes my hand... "Your Grace..." He assures. "Your incident was months ago, although you may be forever disfigured, your skin has healed, and your heart is still gold. If the Lady ever truly cared for you, Sire... The last of her worries will be of your appearance."

...

His words stick with me... I begin to pray to the Gods that he is right. My only hope is that a moment within my gaze is enough to help Tabitha look past my monstrous image... Enough to let her hear me out for just a second of her time.

As I lay in bed, battered and bandaged, I continue to wait to see Tabitha's presence.

Three years have passed and I continue to think about her daily... I wonder if she has changed any, I wonder if she still hates me, I wonder if she's happy.

After many hours, my chamber doors finally open and Tabitha hurries in with haste. Tears melt down her cheeks as she crawls in beside me in bed and she lays on my scarred chest.

The weight of her body pains me a bit, yet I've never been more grateful to feel a pain in my life.

"Your Grace..." Maester Orwyle grins. "The guards were not necessary, when Lady Tabitha heard word of you being alive, she nearly beat us all here."

I immediately begin to sob. I wrap my arms around Tabitha tightly and Maester Orwyle leaves us to our long embrace.

Her curls smell of smoke and fire, clearly having been working in her father's steel shop. I inhale her missed scent deeply.

"I apologize Your Grace that I am not put together." Tabitha gulps. "I have soot and ash all over me. I've spent the day working with my father... There has been an order from Prince Aemond and the crown for a hundred swords by the end of the week or my father will be hanged!"

"Don't apologize." I insist. "You look glorious. Pretty as the very day that I met you at the iron throne. Fear not of your father's death... I'll be sure that it will not happen."

"Tabitha..." I gulp. "Why were you so willing to accept my invitation? I believed that you hated me for so long..."

"I did." She admits. "But we have had years apart, Aegon. I was able to mature and came to realize that you and Helaena were victims of something horrible... Victims of the unjust treatment of the crown's council, and forgive me for saying, but— the unjust treatment of your mother as well!"

"I know... I know."The thought of what the council forced upon my sister and I still haunts me to this day.

"I was disgusted... even a bit jealous the day that I left the Red Keep." Tabitha continues. "But what I regret the most is not standing up for you, my King. The news spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing... We saw your dragon, Sunfyre's lifeless body dragged through town and the rumor was that you were dead as well. When your Maester found me with the news of you being alive and wanting to see me, my feet never stopped running the cobblestones of the city until I was here in your very chambers... being able to see you for myself."

I begin to hate the way her eyes examine my body, I no longer look of the man she once knew. "I'm hideous."

"You're brave." She cups my face. "You are heroic and you survived a dragon's fire... A death that no man has ever escaped! King Aegon, stories and songs will be sang about you for centuries."

Tabitha smiles sweetly. "Cry not, Your Grace. You are a legend, and you are still here in the land of the living."

"Shall we change our thoughts to joy?" She asks with an enchanting giggle. "As I was led to your chambers, I heard youthful laughter in the courtyard. I assume they were your children? Your twins, a boy and a girl, yes?"

I pause... Not sure of how to relay the bad news out of my own mouth.

"At one time, yes..." I begin. "But as this battle for the throne continues, a criminal was sent to the Red Keep... As my son, my heir, slept in his crib... he was beheaded. My three year old child was murdered in his own bed by our enemies... His life, drug through the dirt and taken in war crimes to prove a point! To one up me for the throne."

...

Tabitha's eyes immediately glass over, turning pale and frozen with shock. "Gods... Aegon... I'm— I'm so sorry."

I softly refuse her pity. "I've done my share of grieving. I've cried until I dehydrated myself and my sister has not left her chambers since the day that it happened..."

I groan in pain as I sit up in bed with urgency "But this is what was so important for me to tell you. Dear Tabitha, the war has gotten out of hand. I believed that I was only fighting a half sibling for my throne, but it seems that I am fighting my full-blooded brother as well."

I continue to explain. "Tabby, in the battle at Rook's Rest my own brother Aemond is who burned me to the ground with his dragon... I realized then that every beating heart around me wants what I have. For the throne, there is no love lost... they will attempt to kill me for it, weaken me by killing the ones that I love most! After my boy was taken from me, I began to think of who else my heart beats for that my enemies could injure me with... My heart only is full for my children, and for you.A woman who time could not even stop me from loving."

"Tabitha, you're in imminent danger." I finally am able to warn her. "I called for you here today, knowing that my brother is out of the Red Keep running an errand... It was the only chance that I had for him not to see you."

Her head spins with all that I have to say... So much information that her and the rest of King's Landing have been kept from knowing all this time. "Aegon! And you are in danger as well! Your brother tried to murder you and now you still lay within the same walls of the Red Keep as him!? Has he come to you since?!"

"Daily." I admit. "Daily with threats to keep my mouth shut... Threats of keeping me unwell so I can never heal and come back to the throne. I lay in this bed, broken and exhausted... Afraid of every door creak, just awaiting and expecting Aemond to come inside and finish me off."

"Tabitha, I am terrified everyday." My voice begins to tremble. "But what is more frightening is imagining him come after you instead. My brother wants to see me pained and ill. As I lay nearly paralyzed in this bed, I can only imagine the evil he'd commit to break me further down. Aemond would have you captured. He'd bring you to these very chambers to beat, rape, and torture you in front of my very eyes, knowing that I am unable to stand and rescue you."

Poor Tabitha's eyes fill with fear.

"I am to leave King's Landing..." I continue. "A dear colleague of mine, Larys Strong is helping with my escape. He was born crippled, walking with a limp and a cane. He has taken pity on me now that I am crippled as well. Larys and I will escape King's Landing and he will take me to a proper place to heal and be protected from my brother and all who have ill intentions towards me. But the Gods know... I cannot leave this castle without knowing that you have escaped too. I will not leave, until I am absolutely sure that you are safe and out of King's Landing."

She begins to refuse. "My family and I— we cannot leave, Your Grace! We have very little means, we only get by each day by the grace of the Gods."

"The table, first drawer to the left." I interrupt. "Hurry Tabitha, make haste and come back to me."

...

Confusion eats at her before she is able to do as told. Sweet Tabitha sniffs her many tears back, wiping her eyes to see the contents of the drawer. She takes out a small burlap sack filled with coins of gold...

Gold shillings, that I have prepared for her to take.

Her eyes widen at the contents of the sack. "Your Grace, I cannot take this."

"You will." I demand.

"I won't!" Stubbornly, she hesitates.

I snap, drawing in the fullest breaths of air that my wounded lungs can hardly manage; I begin to shout. "Tabitha! Damn you! You will take it and you will flee to safety at nightfall, do you understand!?"

I begin to cough as the shouting drained me of my energy.

"Your Grace..." She cries. "I am not worthy of taking anything from you."

...

Now that we have gone on living very different and separate lives, I hadn't planned to bring up her personal business... But if it will help our cause, then I must.

I sigh. "Do you feel not worthy of my gift, because you're with child?"

Her eyes grow largely once more... She nearly begins to stammer. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Tabitha please..." I reject her lies. "I memorized the every freckle of your body as if it were my favorite poem. You wouldn't think I would notice your glowing skin, full bosom, and womb?"

...

Her head swivels as shame begins to embarrass her. Tears fall down her cheeks as she covers her mouth in shock. "I don't know what to say. Your Grace, I thought I wasn't to ever see you again... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." I plead softly. "I'm not angry, just please, come sit.Tell me of your husband. Does he treat you well?"

She tearfully chuckles, relieved that I am not angered for her moving on without me.

"Yes, my King." Tabitha joins me back onto the bed where my right-side isn't burnt and destroyed. "He's a good man. James Bartholomew of King's Landing... A Fisherman at the ports. We wedded five months ago, and he loves me."

I smile. "How could he not? You are perfect. And in another four more months, you'll be a mother. A fantastic one at that, Lady Tabitha Bartholomew."

"He loves you." I gulp. "But do you love him?"

"I'd like to believe so... But if I am honest with myself and to the Gods, what you and I shared many moons ago, is a love I believe that I'll never see again in this lifetime." Her honesty breaks me apart... Yes, the love that we shared is something we could never find twice.

My eyes wonder at her charming baby bump. "May I?"

Tabby nods in agreement.

Beneath her skirt, my right hand reaches towards her stomach where I begin to feel the child's kick. "The bairn will be strong, I sense a little lad. I can already feel his strong presence and movement."

Tabitha blushes sweetly... Her adorably round cheeks blush and swell into large red apples.

I feel sorrow as I begin to wish the child was mine... I can't help to think about the many opportunities Tabitha had to carry my own child just as beautifully. But sadly, our titles never were to allow it.

I begin to pull away, and my hand slips further down... Beneath her navel I find my digits awfully close to the warmth of her cunt and my breathing begins to shutter.

...

Tabitha gently gulps. "Will arousing you relieve your pain, my King?"

I tighten my eyes closed. "Your sex would make me whole again, Tabitha."

I sigh. "But I can't... I am burnt, disgusting, and alone... I am a cripple. My cock is destroyed, did they tell you that? It burst in the flames like a sausage on a Spit. I can't even piss without it running down my leg." (🤣 Actual quote from the show)

My jaw painfully ticks in irreparable low self esteem. "There is nothing down there to arouse, my love."

...

Tabitha pauses. "Perhaps... your mind?"

Is it even possible to release endorphins without using my cock?

Could it be?

I frown with confused thought. "Perhaps."

My only good eye watches as Tabitha takes her petite hand to my wrist... She guides it between her thighs where I am suddenly able to feel her slick.

Quietly I gasp, never in my life expecting to be able to have sexual romance ever again.

My fingers begin to become slippery as I tease through her folds...

Lying on the pillow next to me, Tabitha's sweet whimpered breaths dance across my face. I watch as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure and she begins to nibble on her bottom lip.

As I find her pearl, my fingers lightly tap at it as her nails begin to dig in my arm as she holds on to it tightly.

As I slap lightly at her clit, my digits make the sound of quiet splashing. So wet and horny, I would have been buried my cock in her if I still had my staff of flesh.

The intense teasing on her bulb causes her knees to collapse in on each other. "mm'Aegon—" Deliciously she begs. "You'll have to stop that, I'll finish too quickly."

I bite my lip, brain fogging with pleasurable need. "Just keep your knees open, be good for me little one."

Forcing her legs open longer, Tabitha begins to moan and squeak.

I become appreciative that I was able to at least keep one strong arm. A strong arm and hand with fingers to feel her addictive flesh... and sight in one eye to watch her melt over my caress.

My longest two fingers in the middle of my hand plunges into her core, fucking her like a cock and nearly arching her body from off of the bed.

Her walls clench down upon my digits, crushing them as I bang upon her sweet spot.

Tabitha begins to lose herself in enjoyment.

"Gods! Aegon, don't stop. Keep touching me— just don't stop." She dissolves into pleasure.

My heart flutters as if I can still feel my member become erect. I can't find satisfaction until I see her gorgeous face contort into tears from a good cum. "You like that? Fuck, you are absolutely beautiful my love."

I overheat, sweating from the most exercise I've had in weeks yet ignoring my pain to enjoy Tabitha's orgasm for the both of us.

"You'll have to ride it baby." I quickly demand. "Fuck my hand as if it were the last time you'd ever be touched."

Onto her knees, Tabitha sits on my hand as my digits find the insides of her tight cunt once more.

She begins to rock her hips... shouting as I swirl each finger against her cavity and let my fingers prune with her juices.

As Tabitha continues to buck, inching closer to her climax, her large pregnant tits bounce out of the top of her corset as does the curls out of her neat updo.

I beg earnestly for her to hover closer to me... As she leans my direction, my mouth suctions to her full breasts... nipping and sucking at her nipples as I devour her image and sounds, melting the memory of this day into my brain.

I kiss her neck and face as my hand begins to lose its feeling in it, I thank the Gods that my tongue once again has the chance to dance across her skin and I try my hardest not to leave love-bruises on her for her husband to find later.

A slow pace to her hips causes her to sink further down my fingers and my mouth hangs agape as I groan from the feeling of her pussy collapsing in on me.

"Yes..." I coo. "Yes, yes, sweet Tabitha, that is so good."

Twitching as her orgasm peaks, I notice her draw a breath in and feel the dire need to catch her exhale into my mouth. I swing my injured left arm to the back of her head and force her lips against mine, inhaling her expressive explosion and swallowing her choked sobs and the yummy cracks in the tone of her voice.

"Perfect." I worship. "—Just perfect."

Tabitha catches her breath, lightly smiling as our gaze meets and watching me devour her sticky nectar from off of my fingers. We moan in an overly satisfied kiss, sharing the sweet taste of her explosion.

I capture all of her beauty as I tuck her curls back into place and protect her virtue as I cover her bust back into her corset, easing the burlap sack of gold beside her breasts where no one shall find it.

Seeing her with my gold brings me joy, I could even die peacefully knowing that the gold will keep her and her family forever out of poverty.

My sweet girl's eyes begin to water. "Aegon—" She begins words that could only feel like a coming goodbye now that our time is running so short.

"Shhh." I softly hush her. "Just lay with me."

Regardless of my ugly scars, Tabitha lays her head against the skin of my chest... We enjoy the moment together, intwining our fingers as we hold hands... something we spent a many romantic night doing during our year together.

"Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle soon interrupts our nestle with the worse news. "It is time, Your Grace. There has been word that Aemond and his dragon Vhagar are nearing King's Landing. He is home early from his excursion. If I am to get the girl home safely, I must do it now."

...

My heart shatters, however, I must nod and do what's best for the safety of Tabby and her unborn child.

"Take her." I demand.

The Maester begins gently. "Lady Tabitha, please come with me."

She suddenly refuses. "Aegon, wait. Just another hour or so of conversation?"

I shake my head. "If I could, I would make it a lifetime. But I just can't spare it."

Maester Orwyle quietly gestures for the help of my guards.

I notice my knights in steel on their way to steal my lover from my arms, and I watch the pain and fear bubble into Tabitha's eyes.

"Wait!" She argues, pushing the men off of her. "Wait, what?! Damn you, Get your hands off of me!"

The guards tug on her roughly, lifting her off of the bed and to her feet as they pull her away.

Tears and anger begin to cause me more pain and distress than any burn ever could. "BE CAREFUL WITH HER DAMN IT." I begin to cough as I grit the words of my demands out strictly.

"Aegon, wait!" Tabitha begs as her arms are captured by two guards on each side of her. "Please! Just wait! Just hear me now."

"Guards." I demand. "Just—halt. Please, For one moment."

I take in a deep inhale of ragged breath that instantly burns my chest. "I am listening."

"I love you, Aegon." She bursts with a sudden admission.

My heart shatters into pieces. "Tabitha, please—"

"It is true." She interrupts. "I wish I fought harder for you. I love you, just please— just please say it back."

"And tell you what you already know? My dear, I will always love you." I gulp. "Tabitha, I never stopped loving you and I never will..."

...

I watch her gulp... she nods, hearing all that she needed to hear from me before finally being able to leave.

"Will we ever see each other again?"A soft final whimper escapes her tongue.

Gently I smile... "If the Gods allow it."

[inkren]

Metroid dread has consumed my life for the past 2 days. Its now one of my favourite games ever made. There's a few problems with it mainly the world not being as memorable and easy to navigate as tallon IV in metroid prime but it doesn't matter given how amazing the game is.

I could rant about it for ages but I'll just talk about my 3 favourite things. Massive spoilers for merroid dread.

1. Whoever came up with the idea of letting Samus smack the shit out of your enemies and parrying them didn't get paid enough. Once you learn how to parry basic enemies basically become energy and missile dispensaries. Its so satisfying to parry something especially emmi's since its so hard to parry them. Its also extremely cathartic to parry a boss and start a cutscene where you can just pump missiles into them. Which conveniently leads into.

2. Spectacle. Most bossfights are so cool especially when you parry them and get a bunch of free shots in as samus in the curscene that plays does a bunch of cool flips or rides a massive monster and holds her blaster to their forehead to pump endless missiles into them while they writhe around trying to toss her off. The only thing that could make it better is if the music was more hype like metal gear rising revengeance (which is another game I have to get around to)

And how could I not mention the final bossfight too. The fight with Ravenbeak is so damn cool with it being like a dance with samus and him doing cool flips around each other. He summons black holes and stars and the climax as.... this actually goes with point 3 as well so we'll get to that.

3. Samus is portrayed so well in this game and conveys so much personality even though she says like one sentence in chozo near the middle of the game and at the end of the game she starts screaming madly.

When she meets kraid she is so clearly sick of him that as soon as he roars she shoots him in the mouth. Basically just saying "let's get this over with"

Her conversation with the friendly chozo in the middle of the game as we get a hell of a lore dump and the only words she says in the entire game being "don't worry I'll finish it" pretty sure i paraphrased that but it conveys so much. By having no other words in the game spoken by samus it gives these words so much power. She is legitimately concerned for this chozo and when he is killed she is genuinely sad but it has to wait. Because she has a job to do....and an annoying enemy to kill. (Seriously those chozo bots that jump you are so annoying. )

There's so much more I could say about her characterization in the game and that one scene alone but I wanna talk about the final fight again.

My jaw dropped when she was nearly dead as Ravenbeak choked the life out of her and then she just started screaming like a mad woman and drained the power from the flying fortress making it crash down onto the ground as she beat him up and continued to scream. It was so badass and yet so funny and I was just saying holy shit the entire time. Peak character.

And then the final bit against raven beak where he gets infected with the x parasite. And samus has her new metroid suit which looks freaky and organic and thats the point. She was pushed to this point and now she's basically an energy vampire. Also nothing quite like obliterating your foe with a massive fucking laser to the face.

Of course the cool escape sequence where I barely got back to my ship on time with like 10 seconds to spare. (BTW samus keeps hitting the self destruct button every planet has for some reason. Isnt this like the 6th planet she's destroyed? Why do they keep having to be destroyed and by what?)

Samus gets control of her metroid powers again before escaping and this actually brings me to a point i like about the game. It doesn't reveal there was actually more metroids because they're the series namesake. They stay extinct. All except for samus. And its revealed that metroid means ultimate warrior in chozo. So samus is the metroid now in all meanings of the word. She had metroid dna and is the ultimate warrior of the chozo. Taking the name if the franchise for herself. So next time your grandma sees you playing metroid and points to samus saying "that man's metroid isn't he?" She's half right now.

Anyway my three simple points ballooned way out of my control. Go play metroid dread. Go play every metroid game you can. Which isn't much if you only have a switch but the two metroid games it has are peak.

[cutesyscreenname]

A Cowboy Like Me : Chapter 2

What Must It Be Like

Chapter 1

Series summary:

I've had some tricks up my sleeve

Takes one to know one

You're a cowboy like me

Javier Peña is a playboy, sleeping his way across Bogotá, never settling down. And he's used to being the only one. What happens when he meets his match? A friendly challenge between friends couldn't hurt, could it? Unless that friend is you...

Chapter Summary: Javier thinks over everything that happened at the bar as he and Steve get you home. He shouldn't be feeling like this...

Pairing: Javi Peña x f reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: drinking, hangover, language, angst 😉

Notes: So this is turning into a much longer endeavor than originally intended 😂 I thought it would only be a few parts but I capped this bad boy at 3k and we only made it halfway to where I thought we would. The next one will likely be even longer so hopefully y'all are down for it.

Here is the song mentioned at the end (there's no canon for it but I feel like Javi would have a few records from the 70's he brought from home and Santana would be one of them):

And the full playlist:

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

From the moment your eyes closed until you reached the parking lot of your shared apartment building there was no sound but the dull rumble of the engine and a gentle crooning over the radio.

Javier leaned his dark curls against the headrest, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing in front of him.

Steve’s eyes flickered over to his friend with concern but he held his tongue. The man was a million miles away, gears turning so quickly behind his eyes Steve swore he could hear the faint sound of metal scraping over itself in a desperate grind.

A cowboy. Like him.

I do what Javi does.

I'll prove it to you.

I hear it every time I try to sleep.

You're declarations float around Javier's mind in a jumble, a record that someone keeps lifting and dropping the needle onto at random.

You were a tricky one, no doubt about it. It’s why he liked you, why he wanted your friendship. Smart but not pretentious, guarded yet forgiving, sure footed but still a little reckless, and the biggest heart that you thought no one could see. Maybe they couldn’t, but he could.

He had imagined your romances before; tentative coffee dates, sweet kisses shared in taxis, most of your suitors left disappointed aside the select few who manage to be invited up for a night cap.

He had supposed not even these lucky finalists would prove to meet the standard for dating you longer than a week, a month tops, nor should they. The man you would keep long enough to mention, to bring to drinks, to invite for dinner at Steve and Connie’s, he couldn’t build such a human in his mind’s eye.

Javier had posited all of this and a million other things but none of his thoughts matched what you had just divulged.

Entertaining my companions.

Like Javi does.

The evening in review plays on the projector screen of his hippocampus.

Quick like a bunny, sweetheart, or I won't tip ya.

Even though it was for the sake of a deprecating joke, you’d never called him sweetheart before that night. It made his ears burn and he’d practically bolted to the bar to hide the involuntary flush sure to be staining his cheeks.

Pinche mocosa, he’d thought to himself, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. The smart little mouth on her.

Later in the evening you’d groaned when Javi appeared with three tequila shots in hand.

‘Come on, we don’t have to be at the office tomorrow. Plus, Steve is a better conversationalist when I’m drunk.’

With a ‘good point' from you and ‘fuck you both’ from Steve the three of you licked salt from your hands, kicked back the poison, and pressed your teeth into limes like sucking venom from a snake bite.

His gaze couldn’t help but linger on the way your flat tongue slid across the skin between your thumb and forefinger to collect the salt crystals, his breath hitching when your lips rolled over the edge of the citrus rind as you sucked the juice from it’s flesh.

A deer in the headlights, he’d been snapped from his reverie by the man across from him.

‘Ooooo-wee. I’m switchin’ to beer after this. Someone’s gotta get you two geniuses back home later.’

‘Awww, thanks dad.’ You’d said ruffling Steve’s hair.

After your glass had emptied and refilled once and then twice more, Steve started poking the bear to amuse himself, going after the way the drink colored your words with a heavy Texas twang.

Javier relished in it, your lilting voice drawing him in like a moth to a porch light. It felt nostalgic, like the polaroid of his mamá that rested between the pages of the book on his nightstand; intimate, like a secret piece of you, buried beneath the Gulf Coast clay, awaiting your return home.

Ever the co-conspirator, you followed his lead to help him land a crude joke. Not his finest, but enough to make you laugh which was plenty for him. Then something shifted.

‘Oh it’s what they ALL say, I hear ‘em every time I try to sleep at my place.’

You’d tormented the man about his noise level before. Hell, just that morning you'd been playfully ribbing him for it. It’s not like Javier tried to keep it down. He could hear the creak of your wicker ceiling fan when he lay in his own bed chasing sleep.

The paper thin walls between you concealed nothing. Sometimes Javier swore he could hear you thinking too hard on the other side of the studs and drywall. So it stood to reason that no matter what he did to dampen the lewd soundtrack you’d hear it, and if he couldn’t shield you from it he figured it was moot to even try.

The tone in your voice tonight, though, it was different. Still playful, still antagonistic, but there was a rough undercurrent slipping through. If it weren’t for Steve’s uncanny knack for levity, Javi might have gotten caught in the undertow.

‘Girl’s out to catch Escobar all on her lonesome.’

A solid deflection but you spurred on.

I do like Javi does.

A cowboy.

Like me.

I’ll prove it.

His mind was reeling, trying to amend the portrait of you in his mind. It felt impossible. You must have been fucking with them. He was really feeling the alcohol, more intoxicated than he’d been in a long while. He was reading it wrong. Back to the script. Back to the game.

‘I don’t fuckin believe you, cariño.’

If you thought he wouldn’t call your bluff you had another thing coming. With all the cool and confidence he could muster, Javier dug his heels in even more.

‘In fact I think you’re home every night. Ear pressed to my fuckin wall, apparently.’

Yup. That would do the trick. The point goes to Agent Peña. But no-

A wave of anger flashed across your eyes, making Javier’s throat run dry.

I’ll prove it to you.

If his mind had been racing before, it short circuited when you took two of your delicate fingers and pressed them to the exposed skin of his chest. He couldn’t fight the shiver that ran through his body so he just hoped you hadn’t noticed it.

And then you- God. Fuck.

You reached up and tapped his cheek gently with your hand, your determined gaze softening just so as you peered up at him. He almost leaned into the touch. Get yourself together, Peña. She doesn’t see you like that. Goddamn tequila - una idea estúpida. He turned away from you, trying to collect his thoughts, but in his periphery he could see you were on the move.

Too sloshed to walk without stumbling, you’d swayed dangerously when you stood in pursuit of another drink. Acting on instinct, Javier had placed his steady, calloused hands around your waist. The warmth of your skin through your t-shirt seemed to creep up his fingers and send a searing current down his spine.

His hands stay curled around you for what feels like an eternity and he wonders when you’ll slap them away. To anyone that asked he’d say he had kept hold on you because he couldn't let you fall over. Really, though, he couldn’t let go if he’d tried, a man electrified, hands locked in place on the raw, exposed wire of your form.

He'd flashed a pleading look to Steve and nearly collapsed when the man took you by the hand, breaking the circuit.

He trailed behind as Murphy helped you to the car with a strong arm around your shoulders, taking the opportunity to run his hands over his face, trying to calibrate his thoughts. He sealed himself in the front passenger seat and slipped into silent thought as you slid your eyes closed.

The next sound Javi took note of was his friend’s voice.

“Jav- we’re here, man.” His tone was gentle and Javi couldn’t tell if he appreciated the care or resented what bordered on sounding like pity.

“Let’s get you both upstairs, be good to sleep it off a little.”

Javier nods, not moving at first as Steve glances at the back seat where you lay, still lost in slumber.

The man in the driver’s seat reaches back and gives you a firm shake, calling your name a handful of times before sighing.

“I’m gonna need your help getting her upstairs, bud.” Yup that was definitely pity, Javier decided.

Not wanting to prove the man right, whatever he was thinking, Javi exited the car briskly and opened the back door on the side opposite your head. Lifting your calves from the where they hung over the edge of the seat, he hooked his hands beneath the crooks of your knees and pulled you to the threshold.

When he chanced a quick look at your face he took note of how soft, how peaceful you looked. Would you even remember the night's events in the morning?

Steve moved to help but didn’t get the chance as Javier steeled himself and swiftly maneuvered you, first sitting you upright in the seat before lifting to carry you in front of him. One arm beneath your legs, the other supporting your back, and your head slumped drowsily into his shoulder, he steeled his expression and started toward the apartment wordlessly, Steve hustling to catch up and help with the door.

“Can you tell where her keys are at?”

Javi sighed as they reached the landing. Your warmth pressed into his torso and he found himself torn between wanting to hold you tighter, to soak it in, and needing to get as far from you as possible.

“Well her pockets are clearly empty, so I’m guessing she keeps ‘em next to her cash. Not sure about you, Murphy, but I’m not lookin’ to cop a feel of an unconscious woman.”

It was the smart move, keeping your pockets empty and stashing the necessities in your bra, but it was a hindrance at this moment.

“Yeah that’s a game of go fish no one would be pleased with. Alright. She can crash with me and Connie.” Javi gave a quick nod to acknowledge his friend and turned you both toward the Murphys' door.

The lock turned almost silently under Steve’s careful movements but the hushed entry proved unnecessary when they walked in to see his beautiful wife, Connie, standing at the kitchen counter.

“Hey gang.” Her voice was soft and warm, gently welcoming the three of you in as though it was home to you and Javier as well. “She okay?”

“Yeah, honey. Just can’t find her keys and-“

“Say no more.” She waves off the explanation.

As Javier settles you onto the couch, Steve steps into the kitchen to speak with her quietly.

“What are you doin’ up, baby?”

She matched his hushed tone, just low enough to evade Javi’s range of hearing.

“Well when I woke up a bit ago and you weren’t here I figured drinks ran late. I’m about to put the kettle on, I thought at least one of you could use some tea and aspirin.”

“Let’s skip the tea and leave her some aspirin. Javi’s in no shape for company. I’ll tell you later.”

She nodded while Steve went to fill a glass with water for you.

As if on cue, “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, Connie, but I’m gonna head out.”

He finished pulling a blanket over your limp frame, slowly turning toward them with apologetic eyes.

“ No worries, Javi. I’m on my way back to bed anyway. Thanks for helping Steve get her inside.” Her knowing smile had him feeling uneasy.

“Anytime.” He replied softly. He and Steve exchanged quick nods and Javier slipped from their dwelling to his own. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it with an exhausted sigh.

What was he even thinking? Why should he be bothered? There was no good reason.

You were his friend, perhaps his best friend, and he had learned a surprising fact about you. That was all. He had no right to be anything but slightly surprised, maybe amused.

He didn’t worry for your safety, he’d seen you take down grown men twice your size on the job. You could handle yourself, no problem.

And so what if you were chasing away your demons? Lord knows he does the same. Columbia was vast and humid. The underbelly of the drug trade held the country in its bloody grip, pressing in on you from all directions. The assignment was full of uncertainty and it left Javier so lonely in the silence of his government issued abode.

He would do anything to fill the empty spaces, to stave off the cold tendrils that would pull at the walls of his chest when he lied awake, freefalling through the dark skies of his mind until morning. He could never fault you for doing the same.

Slumping into the worn sofa, his eyes shut slowly. Nothing is wrong. I drank too much and I'm being dramatic. She doesn't even think of me that way. It's not a big deal.

Still, as the weight of the day sank into his bones, sleep beckoning softly, his mind drifted to your faint sigh as you had nuzzled into his neck in your sleep while Steve unlocked his front door. When he opened his eyes again it was morning.

You awoke with a low groan, a sharp pain throbbing a wild cumbia rhythm behind your eyes. What happened last night?

You cracked open one eye cautiously, then the other, thankful to find the room somewhat dim around you. Only the small lamp across the room from you was on, blinds and curtains muffling the sunlight that tried to peek through the window behind you.

Eyes adjusting quickly, you recognized the comfortable sight of the Murphys’ living room. It was the same exact layout as yours, but Connie’s warm touch made all the difference. The soft decorative pillows, kitschy knick knacks, and framed candid photos transformed the small unit into something that felt like a home.

Okay I'm on Murphy’s sofa. So- Your gaze finds the full glass of water and bottle of aspirin on the coffee table. The puzzle pieces begin to fit together quickly. Just as you start to recall what happened the night before, what you had said, Steve slipped out of his bedroom and noticed you stirring.

“Heyyy good morning. How ya feel?” Thankfully he kept his tone low, guessing the answer to his own question.

“I’ve been better.” You croak, sitting up gingerly.

“I thought that might be the case. You see the Aspirin? Connie made sure to close the curtains for ya.”

“Yes thank you.” You tap two pills into your palm and kick them back with a healthy glug of water. “Is there a chance I could have some-“

“Already on it.” Steve was moving to fill the coffee maker with water before you asked.

“Where is that angel you tricked into marrying you?”

“At the clinic, unfortunately. Somebody called in sick and they’re so shorthanded as it is. She said to give you her best and inform you that you’d better come for dinner soon.”

You raised your eyebrows as Steve raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, kid. I’m just quotin’. You know she won’t take no for an answer.”

You chuckled in reply.

Once your mugs were filled with rich black liquid, Steve placed them on the table in front of you, taking a seat on the sofa. You both sipped in silence for a few moments before you decided to break the ice.

“So…last night. Um. Did I-“ You did not want to ask but you needed confirmation. “Did I basically tell y’all all about my sex life in no uncertain terms?” You wince when you hear the words out loud.

“Well, my friend, in no uncertain terms… you said that Javi’s lady friends are so loud you can’t sleep so you conduct your own ah – activities – in other venues, namely the homes of your own dates.”

You groaned loudly and covered your face with your hands. It wasn’t a dream. You’d definitely made a tequila shaped mistake and said the in-your-head thing out loud.

“Do ya wanna hear the rest or should I just leave it be?”

“There’s MORE?” You didn’t want to ruminate, better to rip the band-aid off. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. So that, and then I guess Javi thought you were kiddin’ so he tried to push your buttons and you said somethin’ about provin’ it to him.”

The confirmation was all you needed, the words flooding back to you all at once.

Ear pressed to my fuckin’ wall apparently.

Ah yes, the anger. You were remembering quickly. Pendejo. Why wouldn’t he believe that about you? You weren't a delicate flower, some witless debutante in need of safekeeping. You were his friend and his fucking equal. Of course rubbing his nose in it seemed appealing, especially after so many drinks.

Polishing off the contents of your mug, you placed it on the table and stood, crossing to the door.

“I think I should go back to mine. I just-“

“Yeah. No. I get it.”

“Thanks for not diving for my keys, by the way. And ya know…everything else.” You smiled weakly at the man on the sofa.

“Yeah we, uh, figured that wouldn’t work out well. For all involved.” He chuckled. “As for the rest, anytime, kid. You know that.”

You nod and open the door. “I’ll call Connie soon.”

“Oh believe me, if you don’t she’ll be at your doorstep. She knows where ya live.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Bye Murphy.”

Once alone in your apartment, you stripped off your jeans and t-shirt, collapsing on your bed as you vowed to shower after another round of sleep.

You could hear the faint sound of Javier’s record player, the muffled melody lulling you into relaxation.

I am just a mirage

Oh, I am just a mirage

When you look at me

Through your crystal glass you will see

That I am now your past

But you give your love to me

In your life I wasn’t meant to be.

Oh I am just a mirage

Oh I am just a mirage

Just a mirage fading away like water

The faint guitar licks pull you towards sleep like a receding tide carrying you out to sea. Even as you sink into slumber, you almost swear you can hear Javi thinking too hard on the other side of the paper thin wall.

Let me know if y'all wanna be on the tag list! I'll have one going as long as Tumblr cooperates 😂

@heythere-mel

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 02

"Fuck does this mean you get to taser me?" "100 Percent."

FRIDAY 10:30PM

Y/n stood at the foot of the stage taking photos of the metal band currently occupying the stage. Luckily they brought a crowd of headbangers rather than full violent moshing or else the photo quality would suffer. Baby had promised a few hundred bucks for some promotional photos for the local venues and after the rent hike, she could use the extra cash.

Tonight had been different than most. Usually she was strictly business, bouncing from one venue to the next getting the photos taken and crawling into bed at 2AM just to have Baby blowing up her phone for the images before she's even had a chance to get real sleep. Tonight she finally got a chance to meet the shaggy haired, stoner who seemed to travel with one of the local bands. She had thought maybe he was blind at one point with how he stared blankly at her but one of the bartenders assured her that he was pretty harmless, if not a pain in the ass.

"Hey Y/N, you staying for the next couple of bands? We've got some new guys coming in." The bartender knew Baby and had kind of taken me under their wing while I was working these jobs. Bartenders and bouncers seemed to really enjoy her company.

"I might stay for a few. I don't have anymore pressing items on my agenda so I might as well." Y/n packed up her camera and sat on a stool for at least two more performers before bidding farewell to the bartender and heading towards whatever commotion that was trapped at the front door. The owner of the venue had been arguing with someone, cussing loudly at him and telling him that he was banned.

"Oh don't be such a soft dick! I promise not to jump off the tables...much." The voice is what caught her attention.

"Tony! Hey Tony!" Y/n yelled trying to get the attention of the bouncer.

"STAY THE FUCK OUT!" The club owner shoved Clyde out the door and throwing his hands up as he told off the band he traveled with. Johnny tried to plead his case while she squeezed past and saw Clyde on his hands and knees.

"I deserved that." Clyde was trying to peel himself off the pavement. He looked up and met her gaze with a stupid grin.

"That's my girlfriend." Clyde stumbled forward putting his hands on her shoulders.

"In your dreams kid." Tony scoffed.

"Where have you fucking been?" Clyde whispered.

"I didn't get the bat signal that I would need to be peeling you off the sidewalk. That's clearly my fault." Y/n put rested her hand on Clyde's.

"Oh come on Y/n! You aren't really with these guys are you?" Tony whined as the rest of the band shuffled out. They all looked a little dejected.

"Unfortunately Tony, I do. I'm going to need to cash in on that favor. Can you talk to Pete for me? See if you can get them back in to play a set? Even if it's just tomorrow?" Johnny looked at Clyde who's mouth hung open.

"I can give it a try but this is your only favor. No more freebies." Tony shook his head before shaking Johnny's hand.

"Wow um I love Clyde's stalkee. Thank you!" Johnny reached out and pulled y/n into a hug.

"No problem. Crowd is better on Saturday anyway. Just try and keep this one from getting me put on the banned list." Clyde put his hand on his heart.

"Johnny, I told you she wants to have my little deaf babies." Johnny laughed.

"You better make sure she isn't trying to make babies with anyone with both functioning ears first bud." The van pulled up and the band started loaded it up with their gear.

"You gonna be okay to get home?" Y/n asked seeing Clyde stumbling over to her again.

"What answer would get you to come with us?" Clyde tested.

"I mean I know your boyfriend...or girlfriend or they-friend is probably waiting up-" She cut Clyde off.

"I'm not seeing anyone actually but I should probably get home. This is the first night I'll make it to the motor-rail before it closes for the night." Clyde seemed amused.

"What? No! You can't take the train. Come hang out for a bit and then I can drive you home. It's the least I can do for helping the guys out." Clyde tossed his thumb back towards the van as they finished loading it up.

"Honestly I don't know that I trust you to drive me anywhere right now. You're a little loose on your feet." Clyde swayed a bit as he stood in front of her.

"Even more of a reason to come with. I will let you drive. I'm already deaf, do you really want me to be cripple too?" Clyde showed y/n the hearing aid fitted to his ear. She could smell the weed on him when he swayed towards her. She didn't have anywhere to be for the rest of the night and its not like anyone was waiting at home.

"Fuck it. Who am I to let you crash and burn on a perfectly good long weekend." Y/n held her hand out for the keys and Clyde bounced on his feet, handing the keys over.

"Every weekend is a long weekend if you try hard enough." Clyde hopped into the passenger seat.

"Some of us have weekday jobs, sweetheart." Y/n slammed the driver door shut and looked back at the band.

"Guys, this is my new wife Y/n. Y/n these are the guys. They're all stupid fuckers but they play killer music." Clyde introduced her to the band and they threw empty bottles and trash at his introduction.

"It's a pleasure. If one of you can give me a coherent address, I will get you all there in one piece." Y/h promised firing up the van.

"310 W. Utah. It's the really shitty brick apartments on the corner of Tracy Park and Violet Ridge." Clyde said sitting back in the seat. She knew where that was. It was actually about 45 minutes from her apartment if there wasn't any traffic.

Y/n started to pull away from the curb and immediately the horn started blaring.

"Did you fuckers rig my steering wheel again?" Clyde whined returning the trash that was thrown at him.

"Just try not to use the turn signals. These idiots think it's funny when they mess with the only guy who has a van big enough to transport their shit for free." Clyde gave them the finger before reaching across y/n and flipping the signal off.

"No turning signals. Got it. I'm sure the Vegas residence are accustom to it by now." Clyde laughed at the joke as she drove.

"Does your deafness have a great story worth teasing you over or were you born with it?" Y/n asked. Clyde seemed surprised she bothered asking.

"No it's not too recent but I definitely wasn't born with it. You'll have to dig a little deeper for that story though." Clyde smirked. Y/n rolled her eyes with a snort.

"Always a give and take with you." She remarked.

"Hey I can always tell you and waste your payback for saving my ass but then how would you get home?" Clyde teased.

"Oh I won't need a ride home but I already have plans for that payback so by all means, please keep that story in the cards." Y/n kept her eyes on the road and her hands on the wheel as Clyde sighed.

"Fuck, you're gonna taser me aren't you?" Clyde turned his body towards her and she nodded.

"Oh 100%." Y/n's response made Clyde run his hands down his face.

The guys in the back of the van started laughing and ribbing Clyde about being tasered and he swatted at them.

"How are you going to tase a deaf guy? Isn't that like kicking a kid in a wheelchair?" Clyde offered.

"Absolutely not. One is a dick move and the other is for amusement. Besides I wear a night guard when I sleep but you don't see me using it as a crutch." Y/n said confidently.

"Having straight teeth and being down an entire ear are hardly a fair comparison." Clyde was drawn to her sassy nature and quick to joke sense of humor. Even if she had plans to taser him.

"We've all got our baggage. You'll live." She looked over at Clyde and he caught her wink. Fuck was he in trouble.

[randomthefox]

I never understood why some people insist that rings, bumpers, loops, and rails can't actually be part of the world when all that stuff shows up OUTSIDE of gameplay

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JoFVTAWI8x4

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/7/7a/Sonic_CD_ending_18.png/revision/latest?cb=20220704002047

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/5/51/Darkspine_sonic.png/revision/latest?cb=20220507191225

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/4/4d/Sonic%2C_you_should_spin_around_that_thing%2C_not_to_transport_with_others.png/revision/latest?cb=20130406164132

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/6/68/Chaotix_27th_Anniversary_Espio.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20220420230453

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/sonic/images/c/c1/SonicChannel_Christmas2019.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20191224032650

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yzK7gQWDnRk

How much more proof do people need?

Sonic's world is simply full of fantastical things. It's not that complicated.

I mean I can understand why you'd feel that way initially. Putting aside comic fans who are not invested in video games as a medium - it is pretty typical of video games for you to just suspend your disbelief about anything involving damage mechanics in a game. Like take for example Half Life - you get blown up with a grande and shot full of alien electricity attacks and shot full of bullets, what happens? You walk over a first aid kit and suddenly you're back to max. The game isn't really expecting you to think of things realistically. Enemy attacks take hitpoints away, first aid stations and medpacks give hitpoints back. You're not really meant to imagine in your minds eye the concept of Gordan Freeman pausing to put disinfectant and gauze over his bleeding wounds.

Only Metal Gear Solid 3 is brave enough for that lol.

So in Sonic, the rings are primarily interacted with by the player as a method of extra damage allowance and end of level score ranking. So I do think it is perfectly reasonable for someone who is used to the suspension of disbelief that games typically invoke when it comes to systems like that which relate to hitpoints and mistake allowance, and for them to just write it off as not "really" being a part of the game world so to speak. I do think in that sense it is a natural conclusion to come to if you're engaging with the video game as a series of interactive systems on the one hand and then a sequence of sequential storytelling on the other hand. Because that IS how most video games work. The gameplay and narrative are two separate things that don't often overlap. TV Tropes calls this gameplay story segregation. Shithead journalists call it ludonarrative dissonance.

It takes an additional level of investment to accept the world of Sonic AS a video game world, an immerse setting in which the fictional characters with rich inner lives inhabit WHICH ALSO embraces the fact that it is a video game with these systems of interaction as an in universe element of the world. Sonic looks at the camera and directly addresses the player. Sonic Adventure 2, a game that has a very serious story that address mature themes, has a poster like this in the very first level

Characters will directly refer to things via video game terminology of "stages" and "bosses"

The characters KNOW that they're in a video game. And aren't shy about referencing that fact. The fact that these are fictional characters in an interactive piece of fiction is something that they're aware of and acknowledge.

For SOME people, this violates their suspension of disbelief. It makes it difficult or impossible for them to emotionally invest in the story, because the story itself is admitting to merely being a story. Or they dismiss these instances as not being "real" in the context of the story, ignoring these moments in order to preserve their investment.

This is an understandable reaction. But it is also WEAK and COWARDLY! Y'all bitches wouldn't never last through the Metal Gear series! Sonic ain't got NOTHING on how meta and self aware Metal Gear is! SOLID SNAKE CANONICALLY DEFEATS PSYCHO MANTIS BY PLUGGING THE CONTROLLER INTO THE PLAYER 2 SLOT THAT IS CANON AND IT GETS ACKNOWLEDGED AGAIN IN MGS4 BECAUSE THE PS3 DOESN'T HAVE WIRED CONTROLLER SLOTS ANYMORE!!! Metal Gear Solid 3 has The Boss say this line of dialog

and that game will have you CRYING like a LITTLE BITCH by the time the credits roll.

.......... anyway

so yeah, growing up means embracing the fact that the world of Sonic has rings and bounce pads and characters who look at the camera and roll their eyes because your ass is taking too long, and still taking it seriously as a piece of fiction worthy of investment and analysis. You have to meet the games halfway and engage with them on their own terms. Some people aren't willing to meet the games halfway. Which is fine. But only as long as they aren't acting like the games are at fault for that. The games aren't doing anything wrong just because they don't conform to your personal standards of how much you'll accept a video game being self aware.

Rings and springs/bounce pads are "canon" whether you like it or not.

[rocketboots564]

Here is part one of my thoughts, notes, and reactions to Red Versus Blue Season 9 as a first time watcher!

Yes, I have heard the news about Rooster Teeth. No I will not let that stop me from binging this series one way or another!

The rest of each individual season will be posted separately instead of being a reblog of the first post… mainly because I saw how egregiously long my post on season 8 was.

Season 9 Part 1:

Epsilon… what do you mean nobody’s called you “Director” in a really long time? Sir, season 8 was probably just a couple months ago… I think…

I don’t know how much time has passed from S8 to S9

FIRST OF ALL TUCKER, CHURCH IS CABOOSE’S BEST FRIEND

Wait… how can you get winded if you’re an AI. I mean I know Epsilon is in a memory unit, but does that mean he relives everything in a human body too?

It does make sense that Epsilon doesn’t really know how to use a Rifle. Sure, Church (or Alpha? Imma stick with church) didn’t know how to properly use it either, but he did know how to adjust the scope.

“Torqued in my pants” pffft…

WOAH TUCKER?! You did WHAT IN ALONE TIME? WHAT THE HELL’S “ALONE TIME”? 😦

Erm… what the Metal Gear? I unironically love this stealth mission thing. And knowing South Dakota… I wonder how long it’ll take for this to go tits up…

I’m betting five to ten minutes

also, YESS THE BIG BUCKS BUDGET OF ANIMATED CG SCENES RETURNS.

South MY GOD LISTEN UP?! HAVE YOU NEVER PLAYED ANY STEALTH GAME?! Set up the MOTION DECTETORS!!!

As someone who’s had years of experience sneaking past light sleepers in the dead of night for snacks and video games… I could do this better than you South Dakota.

SOUTH THIS IS WHY WE SET OUR SOLITON RADAR!!! I mean motion detectors… sorry I got Metal Gear Solid on the brain

MY GOD THE ANIMATION?! THE TAG TEAMING?! What happened that got South Dakota to eventually abandon North Dakota?

I too could take 50 of them South… in a fight… definitely a fight

Oop I saw that in the background! Who’s that?!

OOH THEY BAITED ME WITH THE BLACK ARMOR! They almost made me think it Tex… it’s actually well… whoever this cyan lady is

Supportive Sarge? He WANTS to hear the blue perspective? He DOESN’T want to command and yell at his subordinates?

GRIF? CLEANING? Actually I could get behind Maid Grif.

“I actually like being talked down to” woah WOAH SIMMONS?! 🤨 real, me too…

I mean… at least Donut’s still kept his accidental yet somewhat intentional innuendos. And, also his diary apparently…

Damn SHUT UP SOUTH DAKOTA! SHUT UP!! NOBODY HEAR WANTS TO HEAR YOUR SHIT!

North? WHOAH ANIMATED FACES?! NORTH DAKOTA WITH THE CLUTCH!!

Medics = bad luck. Honestly… yeah for you guys they are.

THE PHOTOSHOPPED WET FLOOR SIGN AND MOP IS KILLING ME

The ultimate OTP battle: Caboose x Sheila versus Caboose x Email

Listen… Tucker… never in a million years will I ever call you Professor Fuck

Damn the Freelancer Program only has ranked mode? No wonder they’re all assholes

CONNECTICUT? SHE’S CT? Yeah I can see why you’re so mad about your low rank… you’ll get your shit rocked by Professor Fuck of all people. Fuck it… it’s a funny name

So like… you know you’ve got absolutely dogshit rizz when Caboose has a better shot at dating someone than you.

Speaking of which… Caboose is now in my top 5 of the most dateable guys in this show. Like take this quote from him:

“I just really want to meet someone nice. Someone who appreciates me for who I am not so much because I’m pretty but because they really want to get to know me…”

HOW HAS THIS MAN NOT WOOED THE HEARTS OF THOUSANDS?

Tucker has NO rizz…

Oh wow Epsilon, just drop the existential dread on your teammates like that with no warning. It is a damn good thing your teammates either don’t understand it or don’t care.

Huh… seems even in a memory unit in which everyone is different fate still finds a way to make Grif lazy and sarcastic again.

Then again, that’s kinda happening with the rest of Red Team as well, minus Simmons and Lopez

Also, LOPEZ IS BACK! And this time is immediately beefing with Simmons… or rather the other way around.

“I’ll show you who’s likable and funny, and who people like” SIMMONS BABY ITS YOU! YOUR THE ONE I LOVE! YOUR THE ONE I NEED!

I just like Simmons… a perfectly normal amount…

Conclusion: this season already fucking ROCKS I LOVE IT! HOLY SHIT THIS IS AWESOME!

[baubled]

prompt: Effie teaches Haymitch a new skill

[[I'm quite happy with this one, thank you for the prompt. I hope you enjoy it. No warnings again, just don't fall into the pit of emotion that's opening between them.]]

“I need your help, please, Haymitch.”

Effie watched him blink away whatever webbed thoughts had taken him away to his daydreams as she crossed the dining car to where Haymitch was sitting, slumped, in an arm chair. He’d been there for an hour or so, gazing out the window as the Districts rolled by. She’d crossed behind him half a dozen times or more, and he hadn’t looked up once. They were due to arrive at the Capitol with their tributes in under an hour, and through a series of misfortunes Effie had discovered that one of the buttons on her pink elbow length gloves had been lost. Normally it wouldn’t have caused her any trouble, but the things were fingerless - flowing lengths of ribbon and lace wound intricately around her fingers like so many rings. It would take an age to get them off and back on again, and only a minute or two to replace the button.

He didn’t say anything - at least not quickly enough to make her regret asking - so she perched on the edge of the chair nearest to his and leaned over to drop her pocket sewing kit into a hand he’d only flung out to catch it just in time. She checked the twin of the injured glove for placement, tugged the fabric gently so it was taut, and extended her upturned forearm to him. A perfectly manicured, opalescent pink nail found the place the last button had been and caressed the space lightly, “Just there will do perfectly, thank you.”

It was only then that she looked up at him and caught his expression. He looked possibly more confused than she’d ever seen him look, and that was truly saying something. For one thing she recognized now that the contemplation she had interrupted had been deep - he appeared to have just been roused from a particularly long nap only to immediately be asked to solve one of Beetee’s many puzzles. But he didn’t need to say anything. Context clues were a strength of hers, and she had borne witness to too many suits without buttons - too many jackets with little holes in them and dress shirts that she’d had to throw out entirely when he wasn’t looking - to not know what the hold up was.

She had a choice. She could ridicule him for his lack of knowledge, tut at him like a school teacher, or she could do something else.

Her eyes met his for just a moment, held his gaze long enough to communicate her understanding, and she collected the kit from his still upturned palm. “What do you think for our two this year,” she said softly, opening the little metal case and taking from within a glistening silver needle, a length of pink thread, and a pair of sewing scissors, “they’ll try to put them in mining gear again, I presume, but I think I can intervene this time.”

“I think it won’t matter what they’re wearing,” he was watching her measure the thread, cut it, tuck the scissors back into the case and set it aside. She threaded the needle herself, and then held it back out to him.

“You never think it matters, dear, but trust me it does. For many people in the Capitol it will be their first time seeing little Ely and Susan up in person and the impression needs to be striking.” Effie watched Haymitch take the needle, his forehead creasing as she once again offered him her arm and indicated where he ought to put the first stitch, but he was caught off guard, too. It was her fifth year, and the first time she’d referred to their tributes by name since the 56th - when her first shot at nailing her job was over in the first five minutes of the games. It’d been a slaughter, and since then she hadn’t been ready to get too close to those kids whose lives she trapped between her perfect, beautiful fingers.

“Don’t get too attached,” he warned her, with something akin to softness in his tone, and he took hold of the fabric with one hand, slipped the needle into it just beside her finger with the other.

“I just want them to have a chance,” Effie’s voice was breathy as she spoke in hushed tones, uncertain of where the children actually were inside of the train. They were both slight things. Too young. Too hungry. They would never win unless some miracle struck the other Victors down in one fell swoop. They would never win. Haymitch paused what he was doing - unsure of what the next step was and unsure of what was happening there between them. It had been years since Effie had opened up about anything. She’d mostly avoided being alone with him since he had so thoroughly wrecked her first day as Escort, drunk himself into oblivion on the train and gathered the skirts of her dress into his hands just to pull them apart once the kids were asleep. All the whiskey in the world hadn’t been enough to stop him from hearing her crying through the wall that night.

She had made that dress. Just like she’d made the one with all those hand painted petals back when they were eighteen. As he tore apart the new one he had remembered how careful she had been with the old. He had known that she would know he remembered. He’d wanted it to hurt.

Haymitch glanced back at the glove. Focused on not piercing her porcelain skin with the needle on accident, and watched her move her finger to where it ought to come back out through the fabric. They were both quiet for a moment, only the rock and sway of the train against the tracks serving as the soundtrack as Effie silently showed him where to place each needle point. She paused only to produce the button itself out of a pocket cleverly hidden near her hip. It was simple - silver and round, but he had such trouble trying to thread the needle through the first hole that Effie held it steady as he tried to do the second one. His hands shook. The woman took the button back into her palm and closed her hand over his for a long moment. She watched his face while he watched her hold him there. But he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“We can do this, Haymitch. Together.”

It wasn’t clear to him if she meant they could save their tributes, one another, or just sew on the damn button. It didn’t matter. She held the button steady again, between her thumb and pointer finger, and this time he managed it - though he still shook. “Just loop it through another few times, please?”

When he was done he retrieved the scissors from the little box again and trimmed the thread, but when Effie moved to pull her arm away he caught her by the wrist. Looked her in the eye and found that she had forgotten herself entirely. There was a certain sense of being unguarded that she could tell he didn’t want to let go of - though it would need to dissolve as soon as they stepped off of the train. Everyone would be watching them. Some more than others. His thumb traced a circle on her skin through the fabric, and there was so much she wanted to say. To admit to him. It was the first time she had ever come close to telling him the truth - why she’d stopped writing. Why she’d stopped calling. That it hadn’t been her choice, but it was the only way to keep him safe.

Instead, she said, “I should go make sure they’re prepared.”

Haymitch nodded, dropped his hold on her, and looked back out the window. It was only then that she noticed the full glass of bourbon sitting on the side table beside him. The melting ice clinked against the glass as the train tottered around another curve in the track. Effie blinked once, twice, and stood to go. His voice reached out to her, though, as she approached the doorway, and she turned to find him looking over his shoulder at her, “You forgot your stuff, Trinket.”

“You keep it, darling,” she murmured, watched the endearment sink into his skin and begin to smooth out the ridges she’d made of their love. “I’ll come find you when it’s time.”

Only the door closing softly between them kept him from seeing her press her back to the wall on the other side, to gather herself and her breath from the heap they wanted to fall to on the floor.