#sat on call for 5 hours and drew this

[randygrim]

Hey guyss (hacks up blood))

[narke]

took year old ritalin and now i have a headache 👍🏼

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon Riley crying and praying for the first time in years bc you're hospitalized

(self indulgent as fuck, based off of personal medical history bc it'll be more accurate)

You hadn't ate or drank for 5 days, unable to keep anything down. You thought it was the flu at first. Fevers, puking, extreme fatigue. It didn't seem like anything out of the norm. Except for when your fevers started casing full body convulsions that made you look possessed. Chills and cold sweat turned to groaning and crying, muscles all over cramping and clenching, breathing becoming difficult. You figured it was because you hadn't had the flu in years. How wrong you had been.

Once your puke turned green, which was later found out to be bile from your kidneys, Simon rushed you to the hospital. Unable to stand, he pulled a wheelchair from the entrance and pushed you everywhere. Within 2 hours, the nurses had you admitted and on IV meds. Pain meds, IV Tylenol, and bags of fluid were hooked up to you, rehydrating you being high priority. Your body is in shock, resting heartrate being 140. He sat by your side the entire time, holding your puke bag in one hand, and your hair back in the other. The doctors drew blood, running blood cultures, searching for a more accurate answer.

The night you were admitted, they informed you that your kidneys were so infected that one got injured. The bile that was thrown up was caused but how hard you were puking, pulling it up from your kidneys.

He stayed the night, sleeping in the rocking chair, right next to your bed. He woke up when your fevers came back, holding your hand and telling you how good you're doing, calling in a nurse. The morning that followed, he had to go back to the house to make a bag of your immediate needs, clothes, deodorant, hairbrush, and anything else he could think of. When he came back, a doctor and a couple med students came in with important news.

"We ran blood cultures to see if there was possible an infection in your blood due to your symptoms leaning towards that. They came back positive. We are going to give you antibiotics and run cultures every 12 hours to track if the antibiotics are working" The doctor says as gently as possible.

The room begins to feel like it's spinning. Sepsis has a 68% mortality rate, and knowing how deadly it is, it feels like you're already being buried. Simon looks to you with a confused look, not knowing exactly what that it, but knowing it isn't good.

"I have sepsis?" You ask in a quiet voice, throat constricting.

"Yes" The doctor says softly.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna die" you whisper under your breath, tears forming.

Simon looks to you, eyes widening. 'Not again'

"Wait, the hell is Sepsis?" He demands, but not sounding confident, more scared than anything.

The doctor explains it to him, how it when your blood is infected, how the infection can latch onto your other organs and slowly kill you from the inside out. Once it reaches your brain, it's too late. His grip on your hand tightens. The doctor tries to give hope, but she can only do so much without lying. She leaves to give you privacy.

It's silent, neither of you speaking out of shock. The only noise in the room is the quiet hum of the IV machine and Simon's shaky breathing. Your thumb softly glides back and forth over the back of his hands, trying to ground him.

"Si" you softly call.

It takes hour to get him to loosen up a little. It's only when you manage to keep down a popsicle that he feels like he can breath a little easier. Like maybe you'll be part of the 32% that pull through.

That sliver of hope is crushed that night, being woken up by his arm being slapped repeated by you in a panic. His eyes meet yours, concern instantly written on his face. Your hand is on your chest as short, sharp breaths are the only thing you can manage.

"I,, can't,, breath,," you whisper between breaths, unable to say a sentence in one go.

"Baby it's alright, jus' try to breath wit' me, hm?" he tries to demonstrate slow breathing, mistaking it for a panic attack.

"not a,, panic,, attack,, please,, nurse,," you try to tell him.

He nods in a panic, running out to the nurse station and explaining. They rush in and take your pulse-ox just to see your oxygen percentage is at 86% when it should be above 95%. They try to do the deep breathing again before Simon interrupts them.

"It's not a bloody panic attack, she literally can't breath. Get her oxygen or somethin' before she fuckin' suffocates!"

They put you on oxygen until they can get you an X-ray. The nurses try to chalk it up to a panic attack until in the morning they see you still can't breath. They give you an X-ray and when the results come back, they send the doctor in. She informs you that the nurses gave you too much IV fluid and that caused your organs to swell so much that they pushed up on your lungs, collapsing them by 3/4ths. 1/4th of your lungs are still open and they're going to take you off fluid, start you on exercises to open them back up, and keep you on oxygen.

That's the last straw for Simon. Once you fall asleep for a nap, he heads outside to the bench area and punches a wall. His knuckles split but he barely feels it, ringing in his ears drowning out the surrounding noise. With no one around, he sits on a bend, elbows on knees and face in his hands. His breath picks up as his throat tightens and tears threaten to rip out of him.

"Why would ya let this happen to 'er? Aren't you supposed to be lovin'?" He whispers into the wind, looking up at the sky, "That girl in't like me. She's the fuckin' sunshine in human form and she's on death's bloody doorstep."

Tears cloud his vision, unable to keep it in any longer. He blinks them away, falling onto his clenched fists. Years of praying, to a god he later grew to resent, for him to fix his family. A child kneeling at his bed, begging him to get his family out of his father's grasp. Once he got to his teenage years, his desperation became resentment and anger. His jaw began to clench when his drunken father would spew bible verses at him to condemn him. He realized God wouldn't save him, nor would he when Simon's family was ripped from him.

Yet here he was, back to that same god, desperate that maybe, just maybe, he'd have mercy on him this time. He believed himself a rotten man, even if it was subconscious, unworthy of the angel sent to him. His light, reparations for the mistreatment The Father had destined for him.

"You sent 'er to me, it's gotta be for a reason. You've never listened to my prayers before but just this fuckin' once, please don't ignore me." His voice breaks, openly sobbing with no sound, "You sent 'er to me and now I can't live without 'er. She's fuckin' everythin' to me. Don't take back your gift, please" The end of his sentence slips into a whisper.

He wipes his tears on his sleeve and sniffles hard, trying to erase the evidence of his vulnerability. He stands and walks to the door, looking back at the bench before turning back to the door and walking in. 'Amen'

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers

Summary: It's the 1940's, and you're a dancer on the infamous USO tour showcasing Captain America. You're due on stage in 5 minutes, but Steve's too busy with his face between your legs.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, exhaustion, innocent!Steve (kinda)

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“We’re on in 5 minutes! I repeat, 5 minutes. Did you hear Mr Rogers?”

“Hmm? Yeah, 5 minutes, I heard!” Steve’s head perked up from between your legs, wetness coating his lips and chin as he shouted through the door to the stage hand.

Your body collapsed onto the desk, completely worn out. Eyes heavy, struggling to stay open, and lungs burning with how out of breath you were. “Please, I need to go and get ready; the girls will wonder where I am”.

Steve licked his lips and began to spread your thighs again, his hold hard enough to leave bruises behind as you sighed heavily, head falling back against the mirror. “Just one more; I know you can do it, then you’ll feel much better when you’re dancing baby”. His face descended to your cunt, tongue lapping at your already sensitive hole, his nose pushing and stroking against your engorged clit.

Steve had been at it for what felt like hours. You were one of the dancers on his USO tour across America, dancing and singing every night in a new city to sold-out crowds. You watched as the infamous Steve Rogers sold the bonds and punched fake Adolf Hilter in the face for the crowd's entertainment.

The tour had been going on for weeks as the war ravaged worldwide. Steve had kept to himself, appearing to be scared of any female that walked past him, let alone any of the dancers or singers on stage, even though he had hundreds of women ready to throw themselves at him.

You felt bad for him, the big superstar who sat lonely in his room every night, so you worked up the nerve to speak to him one day. He was sweet, attentive, and very innocent, and you quickly drew him out of his comfort zone. A few kisses and cuddles turned into more risque. He was a virgin when you first met him, and you were completely respectful of that, but after a few awkward fumbling, you decided to take charge and show him how to move, touch and feel, pleasuring both him and you.

The first time Steve made you cum, it was like a light bulb switched in his brain. He was obsessed. The more you taught him about your body, the more he would want to hear your sweet melodic sighs of euphoria, to the point that it was starting to interfere with your work.

Which brings you to today. You’d visited him in his little dressing room at the back of the theatre, intending to get his lunch and ended with your panties on the floor and skirt bunched around the waist and legs over his shoulders as he ate you out to perfection. Every suck and lick had your back bowing and fingers trembling to cover your mouth to stop those outside the door from hearing your multiple orgasms.

Your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. You were stuck between being wholly exhausted and wanting the moment never to end. Due to past experiences, you knew that Steve’s stamina was devastatingly good due to the super serum. Once, you’d fucked all night, and you couldn’t walk the following day and had to call in sick to the show, which Steve was pink-cheeked and apologetic for, forgetting just how fragile you were compared to him.

You were getting close to that point again, attempting to push against his shoulders weakly, knowing you should stop but not wanting him to because you were so close to your next orgasm. You weren’t sure how many you’d had; all you were aware of was that your pussy was plump from all the stimulation, your clit was throbbing to the point that Steve could feel your heartbeat against his tongue, and your hole ached from the number of times it had clenched and tightened.

“Just one more”, Steve had repeated so many times that you could hear him saying it in your lucid mind. Slumping back against the mirror, the pleasure built, his tongue lapping your juices and stroking your clit, plunging and twitching in your pussy as he held you down on his desk.

The waves of the orgasms throbbed through your entire body, your hands pulling at his hair to move him away from your pussy as you sat up, losing control for a second as your body tried to process the euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful, Doll. You’ve done so well for me”, Steve encouraged, his hands massaging your aching thighs as you tried to catch your breath. As the pulses in your cunt calmed, you leaned forward until your head rested against his shoulder, his arms moving around your hips as he cradled you close.

“I might need to cancel the show”, you say, trying to wiggle your toes but finding your limbs were slow in response.

Steve moved back slightly to look at your flushed face, “You know you can’t do that, Baby. You’re on your last warning. Sorry, I’ll try to stop doing this before shows; sometimes I just can’t help myself.”. He pecks your lips softly, and you lean into the touch and try to slow your breathing to calm your body.

A knock at the door disrupts the embrace, “We need you at the stage door in 1 minute!” The stagehand shouts through the door, and you refrain from groaning.

“Could you help me get dressed, please?”

“Of course!” Steve was as sweet as ever, finding your panties and shorts for your costume and helping to pull them back onto your trembling legs. When you tried to stand and straighten your skirt and top, your knees buckled, but thankfully, he caught you, holding you for a couple of seconds until you found your strength.

Looking in the mirror, you tried not to cringe at the streaks you’d left behind on the surface, and then there was your appearance, completely glazed-over expression, and hair a mess, but you didn’t have time to sort either. Rushing to the door, you cringed internally and how sensitive you felt between your legs and how uncomfortable it was to walk with your pussy slightly swollen.

Steve was behind you, opening the door to allow you to step out and rush to the curtain. Making sure no one else was around, you turned and leaned up to kiss him sweetly, “Break a leg.” you wished him luck before running to join the others, who all gave you exacerbated looks for nearly being late.

The show was nearly a disaster; your legs became heavy halfway through from exhaustion, but thankfully, Steve caught you, somehow managing to play it off as part of the play, catching the damsel before continuing with the show.

Your entire body was warm to the touch, and the bright overhead lights only worsened it. As you danced across the stage, you became increasingly more aware that your panties were drenched, your pussy still flowing with juices, to the point that you were worried it had leaked through your shorts for the audience to see.

By the end, your cheeks ached from fake smiling, and the muscles in your legs were burning to the point that you collapsed on the stairs as you exited the stage. You were exhausted, eyes hardly open as one of the girls asked if you were okay.

“Sweetheart? Are you coming down with something?” the show manager asked, but you waved everyone away.

“I’m fine; I just need to sleep”, you explained whilst thanking one of the other girls who had returned with a glass of water.

“What’s going on? Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, pushing his way through the crowd. Your body heated even more as Steve’s eyes widened briefly before he tried to mask his reaction. It was evident in your contract that you were not allowed to form intimate relationships with the show's star, which of course was Steve, so whatever it was that you had with Steve had to stay hidden, even though you were sure everyone suspected it.

“Everything’s fine, Mr Rogers, she’s just cooling off”, the manager attempted to move his prize possession away, not wanting him to worry about any of the girls and push him back to his awaiting taxi.

“She doesn’t look fine; why don’t I take her to a doctor?” Steve suggested, lowering himself so that you were both eye to eye.

“She doesn’t need a doctor; she’s fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” the manager tried to reassure, but you were too tired even to respond.

“Ok, let me rephrase this, I’m going to take her to a Doctor, now move out of my way”, Steve demanded, actually standing up to the manager for once as he slid one arm under your knee and the other supporting your back as he lifted you, your head rolling onto his shoulder.

You relaxed into the hold, the sway of it helping to lull you into a half-asleep state. Only when the two of you were alone in the taxi did you decide to speak finally. “I don’t need a doctor, I just need to sleep”.

“I know, baby. I just wanted to get you away from everyone. I’m sorry for going so hard earlier, and I’ll try and calm it down from now on”, Steve apologised, holding your body close to his as the taxi began to move towards the motel you were all staying at.

You grinned, tilting your face towards his, “I didn’t say you had to stop, Steve”.

His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes, a small smile forming on his handsome face. Giving you a quick kiss on your temple, the two of you relaxed into the embrace as you quietly fell asleep.

[imshii-kin]

Good Luck

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

I made this a bit ago so have mercy :,)

Wattpad

Summary : Y/n, who recently taken an interest in the DC universe, finds themself in that very universe after a little roadkill accident.

Prologue, Chapter # 1 (you are here), Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Never feel guilty for starting again. - Rupi Kaur

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It had been a few hours since Y/n had awoken, she felt like she was in shock. She could remember walking back to her dorm from the public library. She had picked a random comic from the comic section, deciding to venture from her usual picks.

She could remember the bright headlights barreling towards her, the pain, her breath slowly slipping from her...

Y/n doesn't know is she can look at a truck the same way again.

"What do you think could've caused this Lois? She was completely fine yesterday." A man with inky black hair and deep blue eyes paced around the kitchen, his brows furrowed in frustration.

The woman next to him, Louis, placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort her husband. "I don't know Clark, it's strange."

Y/n sucks in a breath, she was in the DC universe.

──●◎●──

'...I didn't even get to finish playing through Fnaf.' Y/n thought as she watched her 'parents' talk. Sighing, Y/n recounted her situation, she could remember her past life perfectly, but she drew a blank when she tried to remember anything from this life.

In all honesty Y/n was on the verge of a panic attack, still coming to grips with the fact she died. Not only that, but out of all the universes to be reincarnated in, Y/n was reborn into one of the most dangerous universes out there. Why couldn't she just be reincarnated in a chick flick?

Louis had her arm around Y/n, holding her close and trying to comfort her. She was saying something to Y/n, though nothing really registered.

Justifiably, Y/n didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Clark sat down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his hands. "Y/n, can you tell us what could have happened? Anything at all?" Y/n shakes her head no. She chose not to mention her past life, something in her gut told her to keep it to herself.

Clark sighed disappointedly, "I guess I'll have to call Bruce." He seemed grimace when he mentioned Bruce's name.

That's never a good sign.

──●◎●──

"What do you mean 'No' Bruce!?" Clark yelled at the billionaire, who was trying to calm down and reason with the hero.

"Clark, I just think you're going a little overboard, let me take her back to Gotham. I can use my computers and resources that are stored in the bat cave to figure out what's wrong." Bruce explained. "We don't need to summon the Justice League for this." Bruce's brow furrowed at the stubbornness of the alien.

Off to the side Y/n watched the interaction with morbid curiosity. Though you agreed that calling up the Justice League was a bit... over the top. It was still strange how Bruce seems reluctant to interact with the Justice League in general.

Wonder why that is.

Clark runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Why would I let my daughter go to Gotham, for all I know, this is some excuse to experiment on her kryptonian side. Find out more weaknesses," he all but snarled, "or get her killed, just like Jason!"

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't trust her with you, not after..." He shakes his head, turning away from Bruce.

Louis had left your side to talk with Clark, allowing Jon to take her place.

There's some silence, before Jon decides to speak. "...I think you should go." He says. Y/n tilts her head towards him, brow raised. "I gave a friend there, Damien." Jon begins, "he's told me all about Bruce, I think they can help you."

Jon blushes a bit, "Plus, Damien is the most trustworthy guy I know, if you ever need help, he'll be there."

Footsteps approach you both from behind, turning to look, you both see an irritated Clark approaching you. "Well, she doesn't have a choice. She isn't going." He huffed.

"..."

"Clark, do you want her to get the best treatment or not?" Surprisingly, Lois spoke up this time. Sighing, she took Clark's hand.

"Bruce won't betray our trust, plus she'll be in one of the most protected places in Gotham, getting the best treatment she could ever get. I think we should let Bruce take her until we figure out what, or... who caused this."

──●◎●──

Y/n and Bruce sit in silence.

──●◎●──

Chapter 2

[miracleonice87]

behind the scenes at 30 rock

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: the newest installment is here! takes place during Travis's SNL appearance. includes guest appearances from jason, mama and papa kelce, and kelsea ballerini. enjoy!

warnings: mention of pregnancy / related sickness / babies, alcohol, swearing, i think that's it

word count: ~4,000

___

March 5, 2023 

Travis was mere hours from hosting Saturday Night Live, the biggest honor of his entire life and career outside of football. 

And you? You were sitting alone in his green room – an appropriate name, considering how you were constantly green in the gills these days – being sick in a trash can. 

Travis was rehearsing on stage, along with Jason and the cast, while Donna, Ed, and Trav’s management team were being toured around the studio. You had hung back after muttering a lame excuse about needing to call home and walk your parents through how to record the show tonight. Donna had eyed you suspiciously but let it go… and the group left you alone just in time for you to cough up your guts moments after the door closed. 

The wave of sickness lasted for a good three or four minutes, and as you sat up weakly, pressing the inside of your wrist to your sweaty forehead before reaching into your purse for your breath spray, you wondered how the fuck you were going to clean this up without anyone noticing. With a groan, you reached for some paper towels, crumpling them up and shoving them into the bag of the offending trash can, then tied the cheap plastic bag tightly closed and put it in another empty trash bag which, thankfully, you found inside the can. Somehow, you kept the gagging to a minimum as you picked up the bundle of bags and walked toward the door, taking a deep breath in when you reached it.

This is so fucking embarrassing. 

You cracked the door open just far enough to call out to a young PA walking down the hallway. As he drew closer, you called sheepishly, “Excuse me?”

He whipped his head up and stood straight, not having noticed the partially open door until you spoke.

“Oh, Mrs. Kelce!” he said with a polite smile. “Yes, can I help you?”

You winced visibly. “Actually, yes,” you admitted softly. “Please know that I absolutely hate to do this, but… I was just, uh, sick, in here and… I was wondering if it was possible to get rid of this for me?” You held the bag up a few inches and smiled at him apologetically. “I swear I’m not drunk, I’m just, uh… I’m not feeling well.”

He nodded and gave you an understanding smile. 

“Not a problem, Mrs. Kelce,” he said, carefully reaching for the bag. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with much worse than this,” he said playfully, and you were grateful for his assistance and his attempt to make you feel better. “You let us know if you need anything else, alright?” 

“Thank you so much,” you said quietly. You read his nametag before continuing. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Jeremy. And, um, one more thing…”

He nodded again. “Anything.”

“Keep this between us?” you said softly, lifting an index finger to your lips.

Slowly, a knowing smirk stretched across his lips. “Of course,” he assured. “My lips are sealed.”

You nodded, mouthing a final “thank you.” You closed the door and rested your head against the cool frame, closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, relieved that that hadn’t been as painful as you’d feared, and making a mental note to send Jeremy some piece of memorabilia signed by Travis as a token of your gratitude. 

You jumped when, just a few moments later, a soft knock came on the other side of the door.

“One second!” you called, ducking into the view of the lighted mirror to check your appearance, reaching for a tissue to wipe at the corners of your mouth. 

“Hey, it’s Kelsea,” a voice said quietly. “Can I come in?”

You smiled. Not only was it Travis’s first time on SNL, but it was also the first appearance for the musical guest, Kelsea Ballerini, who just so happened to be one of your favorite artists and one of the most-played on your Spotify account. You had briefly met her earlier and were able to tell her what a big fan of hers you were, and you were thrilled that she was back again, presumably to chat or maybe to take a quick photo before the show.

“Yes, come in!” you called cheerfully as you cleared your throat and tossed the tissue into the trash from three-point range, plastering a mega-watt smile on your features as if nothing at all had happened in the last ten minutes. 

She opened the door wearing a sweats set and carrying one of the SNL bags given to each special guest, and you noticed her freshly finished hair and makeup – the final step before the show would be to change into her outfit, which was sure to be stunning.

As you were about to open your mouth to tell her how beautiful she looked already, she shut the door and said abruptly, “Are you okay?”

Your stomach fluttered, this time due to nerves and not the baby in your belly. 

How did she know?

You swallowed hard and tried your best to play it off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you lied through your teeth with a wave of your hand. “Why do you ask?”

She smiled and shyly ducked her head before meeting your eyes again.

“Well, my boyfriend Chase was just walking past and overheard you talking to the PA about being sick…” You pursed your lips, trying as hard as you could to keep a grin from your face. Kelsea forged ahead. “Now, listen, you do not have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course, but… I doubt you’d be here at all if you had the stomach flu, and you don’t seem like you’ve had too much to drink, so…”

You chuckled quietly, then nodded. After a long pause, you copped. 

“We literally just found out a week ago…”

Kelsea covered her mouth as she screamed silently and began hopping from one foot to the other. 

“Oh, my god, oh, my god! Congratulations!” she whisper-yelled as she wrapped you in a warm hug. In your wildest dreams, you could have never guessed that Kelsea Ballerini would be the second person – well, technically the third, if Jeremy had in fact caught your drift – in the world whom you told that you were expecting. Kelsea pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “Okay, well, I’m glad I asked – I had a feeling so I brought ginger ale and Jolly Ranchers. That’s what helped one of my girlfriends through her whole first trimester.” 

She reached into the bag hanging from her forearm and produced said items, and you pressed a hand to your lips as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Sorry, ignore me!” you exclaimed, laughing as you accepted the items. “It’s the freaking hormones. But that is so sweet of you. Thank you. You did not have to do that – you have a show to prepare for!” 

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “I know, I know, but this is just girl code,” she said decidedly. “I’ll run back out there in a sec but I wanted to make sure you were okay. Here, sit, sit,” she insisted as she motioned toward the velvet couch. 

You did as you were instructed and happily screwed the cap off of the soda, taking a few small sips. The coolness and carbonation of the drink were a welcome sensation on your tongue. 

“So nobody else knows?” Kelsea whispered excitedly, scrunching her nose with glee. 

As you swallowed, you smiled. “No,” you whispered back, and Kelsea squealed. “I’m only six weeks. We’re gonna tell my brother- and sister-in-law and his parents tomorrow when we go to Philly to meet the new baby, but right now it’s just us who know. And you!” 

She clapped her fingertips together enthusiastically. “This is the coolest thing ever!” she exclaimed, tipping her head back. 

“Don’t tell Trav that you know!” you warned as you unrolled a watermelon Jolly Rancher and popped it into your mouth. “He won’t be upset, but then he’ll wonder how you found out, and he’s been so worried about how sick I’ve been. I mean, he tried to cancel this,” you explained, motioning generally around the room. 

Kelsea held up a hand. “I swear on my life – again, girl code,” she promised. “But what I am gonna do? Is tell my boyfriend to keep an eye on you during the show and get you an out if needed. I don’t need to tell him why – he’ll listen.” 

You reached to rest your hand on her knee, squeezing it affectionately. “Thank you, Kelsea,” you said sincerely. “I really appreciate it. I’d say we’d name our baby after you, but that might be a little weird.”

Kelsea burst into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, Kelsea Kelce might be a bit much,” she admitted. “We can workshop it though.”

You giggled, then took another sip of ginger ale.

“Think you’ll be okay to sit through this whole thing?” she asked as you reached for the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d stashed in Travis’s bag as you were leaving the hotel earlier. 

You nodded. “Usually I’m okay for a few hours once I’ve eaten something. Today’s just been so crazy that I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t eaten enough. I can tell you that won’t happen again,” you told her as you popped a chip into your mouth.

Kelsea tutted. “Girl, I get it. I get hangry so easily, and I’m not even pregnant,” she confessed as you beamed. “Well, I’m gonna get out there, but I’m glad you’re hanging in there. And I’m so happy for you and Travis, truly – I know we just met but it’s not hard to see how much y’all love each other and love your family, and you’re gonna be amazing parents.” 

Tears welled in your eyes once more as you wrapped your free arm around Kelsea’s neck, and she hugged your waist. 

“Thank you,” you managed, voice watery. You sat back and cleared your throat. “Now, break a leg! No pressure, but you’re technically baby’s first concert.”

Kelsea gaped. “I didn’t even think of that!” she said giddily. “Oh, my god, I’m gonna turn it all the way on then.” 

___

Backstage, a few hours later, Kelsea and Travis locked eyes in the moments immediately following the end of the live taping and the chaos that ensued. Over her head, she pointed both index fingers at him, doing her best to make a beeline to him through the sea of cast, crew, family, and friends. Travis danced toward her as though he had just caught a touchdown in the corner of the end zone at Arrowhead. 

“You did it!” he exclaimed, booming voice echoing throughout the short distance between them.

As she finally reached him, she extended both hands to high-five him, then the two embraced giddily. 

“We did it!” she shouted back, clapping him on the back. “You absolutely killed it out there!” 

Travis pulled back to point at Kelsea. “You were amazing,” he praised. “You sounded incredible!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing playfully. “God, what a night!”

Travis rubbed his palms together. “What a fucking night indeed,” he concurred. “Now it’s time to celebrate – I’m gonna go find my family and get this freakin’ makeup off,” he laughed, then looked at her pointedly. “See you and Chase at the afterparty?”

Kelsea looked at him as though he were crazy. “Are you kidding? We’ll be there with bells on. I’ll meet you for shots in twenty,” she assured, then her expression grew more serious, and she leaned up to speak into Travis’s ear quietly enough so that no one could hear. “Just make sure you check on wifey first – and make sure she eats something before we go out.”

As Kelsea took a step back, Travis eyed her in disbelief. 

“Wait, how did you-”

Kelsea pressed an index finger to her lips. 

“I’m sworn to secrecy – girl code,” she whispered. Then, as she backed away, she mouthed, “congratulations.” 

He shook his head, a bashful smile on his face, and mouthed back, “thank you.”

___

Another hour into the night, after Travis had made sure you had your fill of the Chinese takeout he’d made certain to have a PA deliver to you right after the show, you were watching him hold court in the middle of Mermaid Oyster Bar in Times Square, simultaneously amused by and in awe of the way he was being doted upon as king of the city, even if just for the night. The poignance and ferocity of your first hug upon finding him after the show rivaled the embraces shared between the two of you after both Super Bowl victories, after your wedding vows, and, most recently, upon finding out you were expecting. 

But never in any of those sacred moments had you been so fucking tired as you were right now. Fighting against the exhaustion that threatened to overpower you at any moment as you watched Travis in a daze, you hid a yawn behind your palm and blinked furiously. In the corner of your private booth reserved for family, Donna sat sipping her cocktail, eyes never leaving you. When Ed got up from the table to meet someone at Jason’s behest, Donna scooted closer to you, leaning in so that she could be heard above the thumping music. 

“We should do a tequila shot together – I know it’s your favorite, and it’s a special occasion!” she suggested, nudging your shoulder with hers. 

You threw her a smile which you hoped wasn’t riddled with the anxiety you felt at the proposition. 

“You’re crazy!” you accused in jest. “It’s been such a long day, I’ll fall asleep if I take a shot.”

Donna nodded decisively, took a generous sip of her drink, and placed her hand atop yours on the table, studying you. 

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Mom!” you suddenly heard from behind you, the single syllable tinged with a familiar northeast Ohio accent, and you and Donna both turned your heads to find her youngest son gaping at you, blue eyes wide with bewilderment and lips parted. “What the fuck?!” he spat as he hurried around to the front of the booth.

Donna guffawed. “Well, now I definitely have my answer!” she said, smacking the table gleefully before throwing her arms around you. “Congratulations, honey!” she exclaimed, kissing your cheek. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!” She reached for Travis’s hand as he tucked into the seat next to you, and you leaned against the table to allow mother and son as much space as possible to embrace behind you in the cramped booth.

“What’s happening?” Jason questioned as he approached alongside Ed, his signature brows furrowed as he looked at you accusingly. Travis and Donna parted and turned their attention to the other two Kelces. You pursed your lips before bursting into nervous laughter. 

“Well… our mother just accused this one of being pregnant,” Travis announced, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders as you offered a playful wave, watching Jason’s eyebrows shoot straight up, his color draining from his face at the perceived uncomfortable moment. “And as only Mom could be, she was 100% correct in that assumption.”

“Ayyyy-yyy-yyy!” Jason erupted, throwing his arms into the air before slinging them around both you and Travis at the same time, as Ed clapped in the background. “That’s fucking amazing! Oh my god!” 

As Jason made space for Ed to congratulate the two of you, Donna put a finger in the air. 

“I want to make it clear that I did not ask based on her weight or appearance or anything of the sort,” she insisted, one hand flush to her chest as if reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. “I only asked because she turned down a tequila shot for the first time in the many years that I have known her.”

Jason and Ed cackled, and Travis drew you even closer into his side. 

“Alright nah! That’s my girl,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Only eight more months until your next one, sweetness.”

“That is very unlike her, I’ll give you that,” Ed concurred. “So, when are you due, sweetheart?”

You looked up at Travis and shared an elated grin. “Uh, November 6!” you announced. “It’s early – we only just found out last week.”

As Donna clapped furiously and Ed nodded, beaming, Jason held up both hands.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on… isn’t that the first day of Travis’s bye?” he asked incredulously. 

You nodded happily as Travis bobbled his head from side to side, pride and euphoria radiating from him, especially in his alcohol-flooded state. Jason stood still as a statue, gaping. “This is insane! You’re probably gonna get to be with her and the baby for, like, multiple days and not have to work or go anywhere,” he pointed out.

Travis nodded knowingly. “You’re goddang right, brotha – everything’s coming up Kelce! Ha haaa!”

Jason chuckled. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “But shit, am I happy for you guys! Oh, my god, Ky’s gonna flip!”

Travis squeezed your bicep and implored, “Jason, please do not go back to your hotel and drunkenly call her, okay? We’ve been planning to wait and tell her in person tomorrow when we get to your house to meet Benny, which is when we were gonna tell all of you, but apparently Mom had other plans!” 

Jason crossed his heart. “Um, you might have to take my phone away from me to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I promise I won’t do it on purpose.”

___

You somehow managed to stay awake until four in the morning, largely thanks to the advice Jason had received from Rich Eisen to sleep in for as long as possible that morning in order to prep for the wild night after the show, but you realized you had finally hit your wall when the crew was ready to head to another location and you were not. Travis pulled you into his chest while the group discussed the route to the next party, his big hands resting on your lower back to keep you close. He ducked his head to speak into your ear, as private a conversation as could be managed in the midst of a gaggle of people.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go,” he said simply. 

You shot him a “yeah fucking right” look and immediately shook your head. “No, baby, you’re going – that’s not even a question,” you argued, smoothing a hand across his broad chest. “I’m gonna head back and get some sleep, you’re gonna stay out as late as you can keep your eyes open, and that’s final,” you said, poking him in the sternum. 

His fingers ghosted up and down your spine as you spoke, and he smirked in amusement, knowing better than to continue to fight you on this. 

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked. “Because you just say the word and I swear to god, we turn around and walk out that door and go back together right now.” 

You shook your head again, toying with his silver chain. “Absolutely not, Trav,” you reiterated. “I’m certain. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and you’re gonna enjoy every second of it. And to be frank, I’m gonna pass out the moment my head hits the pillow, so it’s not gonna make a difference to me whether you’re there or not. Until morning, and you can go back to holding my hair back for me.” 

Travis giggled, and his long arms wrapped you in an all-consuming hug as he buried a kiss in your hair. “Gladly,” he stated, and you knew he meant it. He dropped another kiss to your forehead and added, “I love you so bad.”

You hummed appreciatively and tipped your head up to peck his lips. “I love you so bad,” you echoed. “This has been incredible, watching you shine. You were amazing, babe. I’m so proud of you.” 

The humility and delight in his eyes was overwhelming, and he cradled the back of your head to thank you with a passionate kiss, the kind usually reserved for private spaces. But this was a special occasion, not to mention how much alcohol your husband had consumed by this point, so you simply smiled against his lips until he pulled away for air. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you, my girl,” he said warmly. “Be safe. Text me when you’re in. I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded, squeezing his waist. 

“I will,” you promised. “Have a ball, 87.” 

_____

But truth be told, Travis did not have a ball once you had left him. Admittedly, he had watched your location on his phone incessantly while you traveled the short distance from the Mermaid back to your hotel, grateful that his mom had accompanied you, having had enough of the party for the night herself. Once he had watched the blue dot representing you reach the front of the hotel, then become stagnant once you had apparently reached your room and minutes later texted him “made it back, getting ready for bed - love you ❤️”, he tried his damnedest to focus on being present and enjoying himself, reminding him that this night was special, just as you’d said. 

But with every drink that was poured down his throat, with every celebrity he tried his best to entertain, with every introduction by somebody he was supposed to recognize to somebody else he was supposed to recognize, his thoughts were always, only, with you – whether you were asleep yet, how you were sleeping if so, if you had had enough to eat, how you were feeling. He’d spent so much time away from you this week because of the rigorous schedule of meetings and rehearsals that he just missed you with every fiber of his being – he swore it had to be biological, because anyone who knew Travis Kelce knew that he loved a party, especially one celebrating him. Though he’d never quite felt this way before, his heart simply wasn’t in it. 

Around 5 in the morning, he locked eyes with Jason and gave him the high sign, hand gesturing at his neck to indicate that he’d had his fill of the SNL pandemonium. Jason gave a knowing smile and nod, well aware of what was coming next – an Irish exit by his younger brother. Travis knew he would be there for another hour if he attempted to say goodbye to each and every person at the party, even just the ones he knew personally, and with his one-track mind focused solely on his exhausted pregnant wife back in his suite, he made the executive decision to dip out through a side door near the bathrooms. He quickly made his way to the car waiting for him, shared a nod with the driver, and climbed into the backseat. 

“How you doin’, man? Back to the hotel, please,” he requested. 

“Of course, Mr. Kelce,” the driver replied. “Do you need to make any stops first?”

Travis smiled softly and shook his head. “Not a one – thank you.” 

Finally, after what had to be the longest day of his life, he snuck back into the hotel unnoticed thanks to the accommodating staff, slipped in the door to the penthouse suite, quickly shed his outfit leaving on only his boxers, and snuggled into bed behind you, pressing his chest against your back. At his familiar touch and scent, you inhaled deeply and moaned softly, glancing over your shoulder and throwing him a sleepy smile.

“Hey, superstar, you made it back,” you greeted him, voice raspy and thick with sleep as your head dropped back to the pillow.

“Mmhmm, and I have been dreaming of this all day long,” he whispered, kissing a line from your shoulderblade, up your neck, along your jaw and ending at your temple. “Go back to sleep, sweet thing. I gotchu.” 

“Mmm, ‘kay. Love you, Trav,” you all but slurred, instantly slipping back into your slumber. 

He smiled so big it hurt his face, completely, wholly, overwhelmingly, blissfully content as his hand settled on your lower stomach where a baby bump was still weeks from appearing, your warm fingers lazily covering his. 

“I love you, mama.”

[mpregtales]

Luke & Owen Part 2

[Part 1] ⬤ [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

The following days were a blur of medical appointments, consultations, and preparations. The fertility clinic had laid out a detailed plan for the IVF procedure, and with each new step, Luke’s parents grew more excited. They attended every meeting together, holding hands and whispering to each other about baby names and nursery designs. Luke, on the other hand, often felt like he was drifting through the process, present but detached, as though he was watching someone else’s life unfold.

His mother’s emotional fragility also became more apparent as the procedure drew closer. She was still kind and loving, but she was also prone to sudden tears or bouts of nervousness, especially when discussing the baby. Mark remained steady, but Luke could feel the tension simmering beneath the surface. The cracks in their marriage were still there, even if they were temporarily glossed over by the excitement of a new child. He had long been the glue holding them together, and now, with this new life in the picture, he felt that role intensify.

There were moments when Luke would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he had made a mistake. He had always been proud of the life he had built at college—his independence, his friendships, his freedom. He had thrived there, far away from the weight of home. And now, he was about to make a decision that would change everything. Could he truly separate himself from the baby once it was born? Would his parents’ marriage even survive long enough to make it worthwhile?

Still, he had made his choice. There was no going back now.

The day of the insemination had finally come, and Luke’s emotions churned like a storm just beneath the surface. Despite the sterile clinic environment and the calming words from the nurse, he couldn’t shake the nerves tightening in his chest. His parents had decided not to attend, giving him space, though their absence only added another layer of complexity to the mix. Emma, his younger sister, sat beside him in the waiting room, offering quiet support. Her presence grounded him, but Luke couldn’t help but feel the weight of what was about to happen.

“Thanks for being here,” he murmured, glancing over at Emma.

She squeezed his hand and smiled softly. “Of course. I wouldn’t let you go through this alone.”

The nurse eventually called his name, and Luke stood up on shaky legs. The hallway to the procedure room felt far longer than it actually was, and each step echoed in his mind as the enormity of what he was about to do set in. As they entered the room, the sterile scent of disinfectant filled the air, and the cool, clinical atmosphere only heightened his sense of vulnerability.

The doctor greeted him with calm professionalism, though Luke barely registered the words. His mind was spinning, and the thought of what was about to happen left him feeling both determined and exposed. He had to do this for his family, he reminded himself. But no matter how many times he repeated that thought, it did little to ease the knot in his stomach.

“All right, Luke,” the doctor began, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll walk through the process step by step. I’ll need you to get onto the table on all fours to give us the best angle for the embryo transfer. You might feel a little discomfort, but nothing too intense.”

Luke nodded, swallowing thickly as the nurse handed him a thin medical gown. He stepped behind a privacy screen to change, taking off his clothes with trembling fingers. His hands brushed against the familiar, firm muscles of his body—the broad shoulders, solid chest, and powerful thighs that had come from years of rugby training. His glutes were no exception, well-defined and muscular from the countless hours he spent in the gym. That strength had always given him a sense of control, but in this moment, it felt like an illusion. What he was about to offer wasn’t about strength, it was about surrendering—something entirely foreign to him.

The gown felt flimsy against his skin as he tied it behind him, stepping out from behind the screen and feeling more exposed than he ever had before. His heart raced as he approached the examination table, the reality of the situation sinking in. The doctor motioned for him to climb onto the table, and Luke hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath.

This was it.

He placed his hands on the padded surface of the table and slowly climbed onto all fours. The position felt unnatural and vulnerable. Luke arched his back slightly, pushing himself out as instructed. His muscular cheeks, which he had always taken pride in for their strength, now felt exposed and on display. He flexed them instinctively, the firm muscles responding to the position, but it didn’t stop the flood of emotions that washed over him.

He had always imagined being in this position with someone he loved—offering himself in an intimate moment, shared between two people connected by love and desire. But here, it was clinical, detached, and entirely unfamiliar. The thought made his stomach twist in knots, and for a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to back out. But then he caught sight of Emma standing beside him, her face full of quiet encouragement.

Luke gave a quick, tender caress to his own glutes as if to center himself, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his fingertips. It was his small moment of preparation, an attempt to mentally brace himself for what was coming. He arched his back a little more, pushing his hips out further, offering himself up in the way the doctor needed.

“You’re doing great,” the doctor said softly, his voice calm and practiced. “Now, you’re going to feel some coolness as I apply the lubricant. Just breathe.”

Luke’s breath caught as he felt the doctor’s gloved hands gently part his muscular cheeks. The sensation was startling, the air against his exposed skin cold and alien. Then came the lubricant—cool and slick against his entrance, making him flinch. He clenched instinctively as the doctor spread the gel with steady, practiced hands, and Luke’s body responded with an involuntary flex. The vulnerability of the moment was almost too much to bear. It felt wrong, offering himself in this way, not out of love or desire, but out of necessity.

“Good, now you’ll feel some pressure as we insert the catheter.”

Luke bit down on his lip as the doctor inserted the catheter, the cold metal feeling foreign inside him. His body tensed as the instrument slid deeper, each inch of intrusion sending strange, unsettling sensations through him. He felt the slickness of the lubricant inside him as the doctor maneuvered the catheter into place, and he instinctively flexed his cheeks again, trying to steady himself.

Emma reached out, resting a hand on his arm. Her touch was warm, and it grounded him, giving him something to focus on other than the clinical procedure unfolding behind him.

“Just a bit more,” the doctor said, and Luke felt the catheter reach its target. There was a strange, cool sensation deep inside as the embryo was placed, and Luke’s breath hitched. This was it—the moment everything would change.

When the catheter was slowly withdrawn, Luke’s body responded again, his cheeks flexing as the instrument slid free. The coolness lingered, a reminder of what had just happened, and Luke clenched his muscles involuntarily as the doctor finished wiping away the excess lubricant.

“You did great,” the doctor said, stepping back. “Now, we just have to wait and see how the embryo takes. The next few days are critical, but you’ve done your part.”

Luke slowly lowered himself off the table, his legs shaky as he stood up. His whole body felt strange, foreign even, after the procedure. Emma was there immediately, offering him a supportive smile.

“Hey, you did it,” she said gently.

Luke nodded, his mind swirling with emotions he couldn’t quite process. He felt empty, vulnerable, and exposed, but at the same time, the enormity of what had just happened weighed on him. He placed a hand over his abdomen, wondering what the next few days would bring.

The days after the insemination were a whirlwind for Luke. The initial waiting period to confirm the pregnancy felt excruciatingly long, even though it was only two weeks. His emotions were all over the place—sometimes he felt excitement at the possibility of helping his parents, but other times, anxiety crept in, reminding him how drastically his life was about to change.

The moment Luke confirmed he was pregnant was both surreal and terrifying. He sat in the sterile office of the campus clinic, staring at the positive result displayed on the screen as the nurse explained the next steps. Her voice faded into the background as Luke’s thoughts raced.

Pregnant.

Luke stared at the result in his hand, his heart pounding in his chest. The faint pink line on the pregnancy test confirmed it—he was pregnant with his parents' child. His hand instinctively drifted to his belly, which still felt flat, though he knew that wouldn’t last long.

At first, it felt surreal. He had known this was the goal, but seeing it confirmed was something else entirely. The words felt heavy, like they had real weight, pressing down on his chest. His mind flashed to his parents. How would they react? Would they be as overjoyed as they had imagined? And what about Emma? What would this mean for their already strained family dynamic?

His parents were overjoyed, especially Julie, who burst into tears when Luke gave her the news. She hugged him so tightly he could barely breathe, but her joy was palpable, and for the first time, Luke felt a strange sense of pride. Yet, there was something else too—a growing unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Over the next few weeks, Luke threw himself into his schoolwork, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy. But his body had other ideas. Subtle changes began to make themselves known. His belly, once flat and toned from hours spent working out, started to soften and round out ever so slightly. It was small, barely noticeable under his oversized shirts, but Luke could feel it—a gentle, persistent pressure right below his navel.

Late at night, in the quiet of his dorm room, he would lift his shirt and run his hand over the small swell, feeling the warmth of his skin stretch beneath his fingertips. He wasn’t showing yet, not really, but he could feel the life growing inside him, and it sent a shiver of both excitement and fear through him. It was a strange, almost alien sensation to know that his body—his athletic, well-built body—was changing in ways he couldn’t control.

Luke kept his pregnancy hidden for as long as possible. At school, he wore loose sweaters and jackets, blending into the background during lectures and avoiding situations where anyone might notice. But the thought of his friends finding out weighed heavily on his mind. How would they react when they learned he wasn’t just pregnant, but carrying his own sibling? The thought was enough to make his stomach churn.

By the time Luke reached 12 weeks, the reality of his pregnancy began to truly sink in. His body, once defined by lean muscle from hours at the gym, was starting to change in ways he hadn’t expected. Every night, Luke stood in front of his mirror, lifting his shirt to examine the slight curve of his belly. He ran his hands over the smooth skin, feeling the warmth beneath his fingertips. It was strange, almost surreal, to see his body changing like this. He’d always imagined he might carry a child one day—with a partner he loved, in a different situation—but this was different. The emotional weight of carrying his parents’ child was heavy, and with every glance at his growing belly, that weight felt more real.

Luke had always taken pride in his physique—his toned abs, his strong legs, and especially his muscular glutes, which had been a defining feature of his athletic build. But now, those same muscles were shifting, softening as his body adapted to pregnancy. His hips widened slightly, and his glutes—once firm and defined—grew fuller, thicker and rounder, creating a more pronounced curve when he walked. It was a strange sensation, feeling his body grow in ways he couldn’t control.

To cope with the changes, Luke started using stretch cream, massaging it into his belly, hips, and glutes every night before bed. The cream was cool against his skin, a small comfort as he watched his body expand. But with every application came a deeper understanding of what was happening. He was pregnant. His belly, though still small, would only get bigger. His body was no longer his own.

At 16 weeks, Luke’s belly had grown enough that he could no longer hide it under baggy clothes. The slight swell had turned into a noticeable bump, pressing against his shirts and making it difficult to wear anything that wasn’t oversized. His glutes, too, had grown fuller, their rounded shape drawing attention whenever he walked through campus. Luke felt their eyes on him, though, and every time he walked down the hall, he was hyper-aware of the way his body moved—how his cheeks jiggled ever so slightly with each step, how his belly pressed against the fabric of his shirt when he sat —people noticing the way his body had changed, even if they didn’t yet know why.

Luke knew it was time to tell his friends. The thought made him anxious. How would they react? Would they be supportive? Or would they see him as some sort of oddity—pregnant with his own sibling, of all things?

He gathered his closest friends for coffee, choosing a quiet corner of a café where they wouldn’t be overheard. His heart raced as he sat down, feeling the weight of his belly pressing against his waistband. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. The bump was there, growing by the day, and soon enough, everyone would know.

“I... I need to tell you something,” Luke began, his voice shaky but determined. His friends leaned in, concern etched on their faces. “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with significance. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, one of his friends, Sarah, broke the silence.

“Wait... what?” she asked, her eyes wide. “How...?”

“It’s not what you think,” Luke explained quickly, his hands instinctively moving to cradle his belly. “I’m carrying a baby for my parents. It’s... complicated.”

As Luke explained the surrogacy arrangement, his friends listened in stunned silence. He could see the confusion in their eyes, the questions they were too polite to ask. By the time he finished, the room felt tense, awkward.

“Well... wow,” Sarah finally said, her voice soft. “That’s... a lot.”

“Yeah,” Luke agreed, his hands still resting on his belly. “It is.”

Word quickly spread across campus, and before long, Luke found himself the subject of whispers and sideways glances. People stared at his growing belly as he walked through the halls, their eyes lingering on the roundness that was impossible to hide. His glutes, too, had grown larger, the fullness of his cheeks noticeable with every step. It wasn’t long before Luke felt like he was being gawked at, his pregnancy becoming the talk of campus. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

Part 3

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm your mother now, chapter 7

masterlist series masterlist

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

summary: Yelena is there to save you, but isn't it them you needed saving from?

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader, 

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha, translated Russian

genre: angst

words: 1961

a/n: chapter 7 is finally here!!! I really need to get more consistent in writing… anyway, I hope you enjoy🫶

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You had been sitting in that room for hours, the phone call with Yelena long forgotten as you waited patiently. Yelena said she would come fix it, and you trusted her. 

It was exactly 18.00 (6 pm), or so the clock on the phone said when you heard yelling outside the room. You heard a few gunshots, and you ducked under the table as you held your hands over your ears. Your entire body shook with fear as the gunshots drew closer, and soon enough the door to the room you were in opened. 

There stood Natasha, gun in hand and a smile on her face. She ran towards you, getting on her knees next to the table and loving the fact you scrambled towards her, throwing yourself in her arms as you sobbed. 

Natasha smiled as she hugged you closer, rubbing her hand over your back soothingly. “I love you,” you sobbed out, and Natasha simply beamed with joy. 

This day has been incredibly stressful for you, and turns out Yelena was right. Something as simple as having a woman recognise you, would make you realize that leaving was not at all what you wanted. You were loved and safe, and Natasha would always protect you. 

Their plan had worked, and you were finally able to admit to Natasha, and yourself, that you didn't want to leave. 

Natasha would keep you safe. Natasha would love you. Natasha would protect you.

After sobbing in her arms for a few minutes, Natasha made a move to get up, but you wouldn't let her go. “Please don't leave again,” you begged, and Natasha smiled as you cried.

"I am never leaving you again, Malysh,” Natasha told you, and you nodded the best you could. "Promise?” you asked her in a quiet voice. "I promise,” Natasha confirmed.

"Now come on, time to go. We should leave this police station before reinforcements come,” Natasha explained, standing up and dragging you along with her. You kept your arms tightly around her waist, and Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while she used her other to operate her gun.

Outside of the room it was all a blur. You could hear screaming and gunfire as Natasha led you rough the hall. 

When you finally made it outside, a car was already there. Natasha opened the back door for you and helped you get in, she herself joined you on the backseat. There was a woman already in the car, and she sat behind the wheel, waiting for Natasha to close the door. 

The moment Natasha closed the door, the woman stepped on the gas, driving away from all the gunfire and commotion. 

It didn't take long before you fell asleep, Natasha holding you close as your eyes shut and sleep consumed you. Everything that happened exhausted you, and now you were finally safe and cared for you could finally fall asleep. 

After arriving back at the house, something you didn't even notice, Natasha carried you up to your room, the woman who drove the car following her.

After you were settled in bed, Natasha kissed your forehead before going with the woman to the kitchen, planning some things out for the upcoming weeks. Natasha wanted to do so many things with you, but she knew that even though this arrest had been an act, people were actually looking for you, and taking you around could cause suspicion.

And so, together with the woman, she planned it out, transferring your identity over to a girl that already passed. The girl looked similar to you enough, and all Natasha had to do was transfer your DNA to hers, so if she got tested, it would seem as though it was you.

This was all online however, and involved a lot of hacking of medical files and information, hence why she had invited her friend.

Eventually, everything was settled, and the DNA in your medical files matched the DNA of the dead girl. When the girl would be found, they'd test her DNA, compare it with your already existing medical information and draw the conclusion that the dead girl, is indeed, you.

If that was all over, Natasha would finally be able to take you outside without people suspecting her. She could take you anywhere in the world.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, when you woke up, you were confused to say the least. You were pretty much out of it, and it took you a while to remember the events of yesterday. 

Natasha came for you. Natasha had brought you home…

After a few minutes, your drowsy state left and you got up, surprised to not have been wollen by Natasha. What about your bath? After brushing your teeth you went downstairs, determined to find Natasha and the reason for your lonely awakening. 

When you got downstairs, you found Natasha in the kitchen, the woman from yesterday sitting at the counter chatting with her. The moment you got spotted, the woman closed her laptop quickly, obviously hiding something from you. You didn't really care, instead walking to Natasha and hugging. 

"Good morning malysh. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and hugged her tighter. After yesterday, You never wanted to let her go again.

Natasha smiled at your actions, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go. 

"Sit down, I have breakfast for you,” Natasha stated as she reached for a plate on the counter. It was filled with eggs and toast, and after you sat down she put it in front of you. 

"We'll do bath time tonight,” she simply said as she sat down as well. 

"Y/n, I'd like you to meet Maria,” Natasha then said as she gestured for the other woman at the kitchen counter. "Maria is here to help me with some business. We don't want what happened Yesterday to happen again,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as you gave Maria a smile.

Maria smiled back, before getting up and walking to the couches, grabbing the large bag on top of it. 

"I heard you liked gifts,” she simply said as she walked back, putting the large bag on the counter.  Your eyes lit up, and your breakfast was almost forgotten, until Natasha reminded you. 

"Finish your breakfast first. Then you can open the gifts,” Natasha ordered, and you nodded with a smile as you continued eating. You were quick to finish your breakfast, eager to open the gifts Maria had brought. 

Once you were done, Natasha took your plate away as Maria pushed the bay of gifts your way. 

You took the bag and thanked her, looking at Natasha as you waited for permission to open the bag. Natasha gave you a little nod with a smile, and you took the gifts from the bag. Each of them were wrapped in wrapping paper of your favourite colour.

There were three boxes total. One was heavy and big, while the other two looked more like cd's. You opened the biggest gift first, your mouth falling open as you noticed the Nintendo switch console. 

You smiled widely and quickly got rid of the excess wrapping paper, setting the box down on the counter. 

"Oh my god,” you exclaimed, giving Maria a huge smile as you went to take the Nintendo switch out of the box. "I can't believe it, thank you,” you told Maria.

After you'd unpacked the console, you grabbed the two smaller presents, opening them to find your favorite game and Mario Kart. .

'Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You exclaimed excitedly as you got the games out of the box, putting them in a case that was provided with the Switch. "Can I please go play mama?” you asked Natasha, giving her the best puppy dog eyes you could. 

"Of course you can, my love,” Natasha told you, stroking your hair. "Go sit in the living room.”

You happily took your place in the living room, plopping down on one of the couches and starting your game. You had no idea how long you played for, and eventually Maria came to wish you goodbye, and you told her yet again how grateful you were. 

Natasha had brought you lunch, and surprisingly she had not told you once to put your game away. Instead, she just sat down next to you, reading a book while you leaned against her.

When it was time for dinner, Natasha had told you to go sit at the kitchen counter, something you happily did after playing your game for so long. 

After dinner, Natasha had told you no more games, as she claimed it would be harder for you to fall asleep. You didn't mind, content with the idea Natasha presented of finally giving you your bath. 

You two went upstairs and you picked out your pajamas as Natasha set up your bath. 

Once you were in, Natasha carefully washed your hair as she hummed a song. You were quiet and contently listened to her humming as you ran your hand through the bubbles and played with them a little. 

"Thank you for coming to get me,” You suddenly said, and Natasha stopped rinsing your hair for a second before continuing. 

"I will always come to safe my baby,” Natasha told you as she leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your cheek. 

"I love you mama,” you told her, and it was impossible for Natasha to fight off the smile that was forming on her face. "I love you too, Malysh.”

After your bath, Natasha put you to bed, tucking you in with your two stuffed animals as she gently stroked your hair. "Goodnight my little love,” Natasha told you with a smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. 

"What if they come to get me?” you asked Natasha scared, yet Natasha just smiled reassuringly. 

"No one will come to get you. Mama will fight them all off for you,” Natasha told you, and even though you nodded, you weren't convinced. 

"Will you stay with me mama?” you asked her oh so sweetly, how could Natasha ever deny. She got herself ready for bed quickly before crawling next to you, allowing you to snuggle close to her. 

Once you were all nice and comfy, Natasha started stroking your back, hoping for you to fall asleep faster.  

"I never want to leave you mama…” you told her, your voice laced with sleep.  

"You never will…”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Together with Maria, Natasha had made sure the body of a dead girl would be found closely to where you had gone missing. 

Police had quickly moved in, fishing the body from the river and getting it to a hospital. It was clear the girl had been dead for days, and when a doctor took some DNA samples and typed them into the system, your file showed up.

You were dead. You had been murdered.

As the body was cleaned and an autopsy had been performed, the cause of death had been a stab wound, which afterwards ‘you’ were thrown into the river. 

‘You’ had been death before ‘your’ body hit the water, and ‘you’ hadn't suffered. 

After ‘your’ funeral, the discovery of ‘your’ body had made the news, and every news channel was talking about it. 

Natasha got an alert on her phone, opening the news article and reading about ‘your’ death. She smiled to herself. She had won. Natasha had finally won. You were hers. You were her child, her daughter, and no one would ever be able to take you away from her ever again. 

Natasha pulled you closer, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair. 

“You’re my little daughter, my little child. I’ll love you forever,” she promised, as she soon joined your peaceful slumber.

chapter 8

tag list: @carol-romanoff @natsxwife @simp-erformarvelwomen @clintsbigtoe @olsenmyolsen @leenasayeed @naslt @dvrkhcld @nova-kyle @wandanatsbaby @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid @cherlenovix @mrsromanovaa @wandanatsgirl @screechcat @a-spes

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Part 2 to: The Lieutenant's Whore

Dom!Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader, John "Soap" Mactavish x fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

Word Count: 11.6 k

Warnings:

The promise of going one more round had kept you in Simon’s bed, completely naked and filthy as you eagerly waited for him to get hard again. Another shared cigarette was being passed between you both to wile away the time so there was no real need for conversation; you didn’t come here to have a heart to heart, though you would have waited for hours and hours if it meant you could experience even more of the depravity that had just transpired.

As the burning smoke was exhaled out of your lungs and past your lips, a thought popped into that devious little head of yours. “You do realize that it’s the weekend, don’t you?” you questioned him casually as you passed back the cig for him to take a drag.

Simon placed the stick between his lips and drew the poison deep into his chest. “What of it?” he questioned back before he upturned his eyes at you with a smirk on his lips, letting you know that he was on to your train of thought. “You got somewhere to be, luv?”

You chuckled. “I sure do,” you played as you moved yourself onto him to straddle his lap between your thighs. You held up your fingers to count off things one by one. “Let’s see, where do I start? There’s on my back, on my knees, bent over with my ass in the air. It’ll probably take a couple days to get to it all.”

Simon shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he dug his meaty fingers into the bulk of your ass before giving it a swift smack. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m going to be absolutely knackered come Monday, is that it? Does my little slag want me to keep her dicked down all weekend?”

“As if you had a fucking choice,” you said with a devious smirk, “though it is easier to have you on board of your own volition. Do you know how hard it was waiting to do this again? Oh, no you’re gonna make it up to me and my sore fingers by keeping me busy for the next two days.”

As if he was ever going to say no to that proposition; as long as you both stayed locked up in here, no one would notice that you two had started something that would not be easily stopped. “You goin’ soft on me already? Can’t stand to think ‘bout bein’ away yet?” Simon picked mercilessly.

“You wish, bitch,” you didn’t even miss a tick, “there’s only one thing I’d miss and it’s situated between my legs right now.”

For emphasis, you rocked your hips over that meaty appendage and felt a twitch. Coming back from the dead already. Good, you’d give it a bit more to make sure that it would keep growing. Once it was quite stiff, you stopped rolling your hips and sat still; he was gonna pay for that remark.

“But, I need to grab a few things from my room before we go again,” you continued. “I will need to clean myself from time to time and lord knows I’m not about to use whatever 5-in-1 you have rotting away in the back of your shower.”

Of course you’d pull this shit the minute his cock was almost fully hard again. Fucking infuriating skank, why the hell did you make him enjoy the torture so goddamn much? Your palms were against his bare chest for leverage as you were about to move back off of him, when his hand firmly clasped around your chin to keep you in place. Going toe to toe with you since last night had been a thrill and even now he enjoyed matching your energy.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but you’ve got approximately ten minutes to get your shit and get that sweet arse back here,” he said, drawing your face into his until his lips were nearly on your own. His breath was harsh from the tobacco, but you didn’t care; you liked him best filthy. “Best hurry, luv, cause if I’m left waitin’ with this stiffy any more than what I’ve fuckin’ given you, I’ll make you ride the tip of my boot with your bare pussy until you’re beggin’ and pleadin’ with me to do you proper.”

Fuck. That was enough motivation to get your heart racing and ready to go and you quickly swung your leg off of him so you could exit the bed. His eyes stayed glued to your back as you went in search of your discarded clothing that lay scatter around his floor. As you redressed, those auburn eyes traced the outline of your bare ass until it vanished behind the tight fabric of your jeans.

“Hate to see you leave, but goddamn is it a fuckin’ pleasure to watch you go,” Simon purred through the billowing smoke of another cigarette as he watched you throw back on your disheveled shirt so you could make it across base without gathering an indecent exposure charge.

You shot him one more quick glance before rushing off. He had pulled the sheet up just over his legs and lap as he lay propped up against the wall with his arm behind his head. It was hidden behind the fabric, but you could still see the outline of his cock starting to tent it up and that only made you want to hurry even more. No sense in wasting all that for some clean clothes and a bit of shower gel.

It was still pretty early as you stepped outside Simon’s quarters, the sun’s first light had barely even started to lighten the sky yet so you felt sure that no one would be skulking around to see you leave. Not after last night anyway; most of the others were probably just tucking in to sleep off the booze. You crossed through the base with not a care in the world other than getting back to what was waiting for you beneath the covers.

What you could not have known was that someone close by had heard the sound of the Lieutenant’s door opening and you making your way out. Soap had wanted nothing more than to sleep off not just the alcohol, but the sinking feeling in his chest at what he had stumbled upon earlier in the evening; his mind had other plans though and after sitting in the silence of his room, letting the agitated thoughts run rampant through his mind, he had decided to leave before he worked himself up more than he already was and did something really fucking stupid.

A striking set of blue eyes clocked you nearly running through the base back to your barracks, still wearing the same damn clothes you had on the night before. Soap bristled at the sight as he felt that burning anger welling up in his stomach once again, which only got worse when he saw you exiting the barracks in the same quick manner with a bag now strapped to your shoulder.

He didn’t want to, but quietly he followed behind just out of sight and sure enough you were returning right back to the Lieutenant's room just as he feared. As he watched Simon meet you at the door with just the sheet from his bed barely clinging to his hips and drag you back inside, he felt his heart sink straight into his feet as his fists balled themselves tightly together.

If this was a one and done thing, a drunken mistake that you had let run its course, then Johnny was sure he could get another chance to win you over. But seeing you return to that room destroyed any hope he had that he would get the opportunity to show you that he could give you an experience just as spectacular as what he had heard through the walls in that brief moment.

Kicking the dirt beneath his boots, he stormed off back to his private quarters and entered with an agitated huff as he slammed the door behind him; he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him like this and asking their dumb questions that would surely rotten his mood even further. The wall shook as the door made impact within its frame, the percussive sound reverberating off the walls. “Fucking pussy,” the Scot cursed himself. “Ye lost yer chance at her because ye had to be a lovesick pup. All fur whit?”

Cracking his knuckles before re-clenching his fists, he pulled back his arm and released it directly into the wall. It was enough to make the wall give, but luckily not enough to leave a permanent mark. “Now she’s getting fucked by that bastard,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “That was suppose tae be us in my bed. ‘twas mah name she was suppose tae be moanin’.”

His anger was supposed to be directed at himself, as there was no other that was to blame. Who was the one that pussyfooted around the topic whenever it seemed to present itself? Who was the one that got to worked up at times to meet your obvious flirting with some of their own? And who was the motherfucker that decided to let you leave the bar that night without even asking you if you wanted to go back to his, when you had been all over him all night? All of it was Johnny’s fault in the end.

It was clear he had let his crush mess with his head and though he should have taken the loss and moved on, his mind decided it would rather put that anger towards someone else and that new target would have to be the Lieutenant; he was the one that got to have you while Johnny sat alone with only his hand to keep him satisfied.

So now Simon would have to deal with Johnny’s wrath. And he made sure to start putting that aggression to good use before the day was even out.

Sweat was pouring and limbs were entwined, cock pumping in and out of a tight hole when several hours later a loud knock sounded through the room, making you startle with a jump and Simon grumble with agitation. Try as he might to regain composure to continue, it was shattered when again a loud bang rang out.

Pulling out of you and hopping out of bed in a flurry of anger as he threw on a pair of sweatpants laying near to cover himself, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open only to be met with - nothing. He stuck his head out to look around the area, but it was quiet and undisturbed with not a soul in sight, which only pissed him off more.

You silently listened, curious as to what the intrusion to the middle of your screwing was, but there wasn’t a sound. With a grumble under his breath Simon shut the door and made his way back to you. “Fuckin’ nothing,” he confirmed, slipping quickly back out of his pants and joining you under the covers.

“Whatever it was, it’s done now,” you said trying to get him to focus back on the task at hand. “We probably needed a breather anyway.”

“Done already, sweetheart?” he smirked, setting the tone back to what it was before you were both so rudely interrupted. Frustration be damned, there was still fun to be had.

You shook your head before extending your finger and poking it straight into the middle of his chest. “Now you’re just wasting time. Get back inside me before you regret it.”

And just like that he was back in the moment as he shoved you onto your back, getting between those legs once again like the good little soldier he was to pepper your tits with a flurry of kisses.

Before evening hit that same instance happened twice more, always when you both were in the thick of it when things were the most heated and not easily stopped; it wasn’t as if you weren’t taking breaks, but whenever those long stretches of time came around, they passed by undisturbed. It was clear that someone was doing this on purpose, but the question was why? You were going out of your way to be as quiet as you could, though there were a few times you just couldn’t help it. Still, if someone had a problem with the sound, why not just say something since no one knew you were in there?

It was all very strange, but since the perpetrator couldn’t be caught you tried not to give it more mind; no sense in ruining your weekend. That was until you entered the dining hall that night for supper with Simon in toe like your own personal scary guard dog, and you noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere.

Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that you and Simon were in close proximity and hoping to keep the status quo so that your little secret wouldn’t be found out, you had decided to sit and eat separately. It wasn’t what either of you wanted, but you’d be back in each others company soon enough after you refueled.

Looking through the hall for a place to sit, you caught sight of Soap sitting off from the main group he usually hung with. It struck you as odd; it wasn’t like him to eat alone. Grabbing your food, you made your way over to him and took up a spot by his side. There was a noticeable shift in him the moment you stepped near; where he had been close and talkative before, now there was distance and silence that filled the space between your bodies as he didn’t even bother to greet you. That was not normal at all.

“Hey you, fancy meeting you here.”

You watched as his back tensed as if he had been spooked, caught off guard from being lost in deep thought, but he did not say anything in return to your greeting.

“Everything alright?” you asked as you took your seat, setting your food down and turning your body to face him in your seat with a curious eyebrow raised.

Soap quickly looked at you before he diverted his gaze into his plate, messing about the food with the tip of his fork. It looked as if he hardly had even take a bite yet. “Fine,” he answered curtly, still not meeting your eyes.

It sounded off to you and the whole thing just felt wrong, though maybe you were simply reading too much into it. The alcohol had been plenty last night and it was possible the Sargent had just overdone it after you had left the bar. That was a rare occurrence for sure, but it did happen every once and a while; perhaps last night was just another time you could add to the tally. Nudging him in the ribs with your elbow, you tried to cut the tension with a joke.

“Did the liquor make you her bitch?” you picked, expecting the usual cheeky comeback about him being able to hold his own, but you were only met with him jerking away while his spine visibly bristled at your touch.

He cleared his throat. “No.”

The reply felt even shorter than the prior one and whether or not he was going to admit to anyone right now, something was definitely wrong. “Okay, okay,” you said as you held your hands up in surrender, “just trying to make conversation, but I can see you’ve got your fucking knickers in a twist.”

Nothing, not even a smirk. Whatever it was that got to him had really sunk its fangs in deep. Fine, no more picking since that seemed to only make it worse. Maybe a deviation in conversation would work better.

Picking up your own fork, you began to mess about with the food on your plate. “You know, I really had a good time with you last night. We really need the team to get out more often when we have the time so we can have more fun together.”

The clang from his fork hitting his plate as he threw it down caused those around to look up at the both of you. The suddenness of his action shut you up as you waited to see what he would do next. Quickly he stood from his seat and gathered his things, still without ever making eye contact; he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to anymore of this inane bullshit, not when he was actively trying his best to forget the way you felt against him and all that pent up sexual tension he couldn’t hope to explore anymore.

“Ah gotta go,” he muttered as he left you sitting there, wondering what the hell happened.

You watched him leave the hall before you turned your sight over to Simon sitting not far from you and shot him a look of ‘what the fuck’, which was only met with a subtle shrug. He had noticed the unusual interaction as well, though you knew his feelings about you and Soap, so it wasn’t much consequence to him that he was leaving you alone now. At least he wouldn’t be trying anything with you again as long as he was away.

Still, with the incidents earlier, it was just too much of a coincidence to fully ignore the change in him. You ended up eating in silence just thinking over everything that had happened since the bar in hopes that maybe you could figure it out, but by the time you were finished you had nothing and so you let it be. Besides, Simon was already staring at you, waiting for you to discreetly follow him back to that den of sin that would be your residence for another day so you could end the weekend on a good note.

And what a glorious fucking time it was. The knocking only happened once more and Simon had not even stopped that time. “If it’s important, they’ll fuckin’ say so,” he had grunted as his pace didn’t even slow while he continued pounding into you.

Those sheet were absolutely ruined by the time you were both finished, covered in enough stains to create an entirely new pattern on the fabric, though neither of you were complaining; you didn’t have the strength to. Shit, it was a bitch to even think about leaving, though you knew that you had the privilege back that whenever the mood struck again all you had to do was come find him.

And yet even though you were going to leave there completely and utterly satisfied, something was still eating away at you and it had everything to do with a certain Scot with a newfound sour attitude.

“Something is seriously up with him,” you conjectured as you were drying off after just getting out of the shower, before you were set to get dressed and leave. “I have a sneaking fucking feeling he knows something is up. I think I should talk to him before this gets out of hand. I’ll probably try and catch him some time this week for a little chat; if he does have suspicions we don’t need him spreading that shit around.”

“Probably should avoid being alone with him when you do it,” Simon added.

You paused. “Is that for my benefit or yours?” you shot him a knowing look.

He stared right back at you. “Yours if you know what’s fuckin’ good for ya,” he said firmly. “He’s livid now, but there’s no sense in risking him tryin’ to get close to ya again.”

“Oh, possessive much?” you chided him. “I can handle myself.”

Getting up from his seat on the bed, he moved in and his aggressive kiss hit your mouth quickly. “Never said you couldn’t,” he returned as he broke the connection. “But I don’t want no manky bastard tryin’ anything with you, ever. I meant what I said, sweetheart.”

You kissed him back once more. “I’ll be fine.”

A swift smack to your backside punctuated your kiss. “Fine,” he conceded. “Now, get your arse outta here before I change my mind about lettin’ you go back to your bed.”

It was a few days before you found the time to actually address the Soap situation, as whenever you went looking for him the man could not be found. Literally, you would hang around his usual places, hoping to casually run into him and strike up conversation, but it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t till the middle of the week when opportunity presented itself and found you at the right place and time. As you were passing through the superior’s offices on other business that evening, you saw it just out of the corner of your eye. The bright, florescent overhead light shone from inside his office; he seemed to be the last one still there, working late. Immediately you jumped at the chance to confront him, your feet carrying you quickly in that direction before he had the possibility to evade you once again. Whatever this was that persisted between you both was going to get resolved one way or another right here and fucking now.

Rapid fire knocks upon the open door to his small office made Johnny look up from his seated position behind his desk where he sat busy with paperwork and the moment his sight clocked you, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

Johnny immediately diverted his gaze just as he had been, his emotions getting the better of him. “Ah’m kind o’ busy at the moment,” he brushed off your question as he pretended to busy himself with the papers on his desk, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

You took a deep breath as you stepped over the threshold. “Look, I think we need to talk.”

“Ah dinnae think we do,” he scoffed back.

See, again this wasn’t normal. There was no way in hell the old Johnny wouldn’t jump at the fucking chance to engage in chitchat if it meant you would stick around. Something had crawled up his ass, that was certain, you just didn’t know what.

“Johnny,” you said, brow furrowed at this sudden shift in attitude towards you lately. “What’s goin-”

“It’s Sargent tae ye,” he snapped, immediately shutting you up and cutting you off before anymore could be uttered, “’n’ ye’ll do well tae mind that.”

“Well excuse me,” you said angrily, instantly agitated by the way he had just jumped down your throat unprovoked. “What the fuck has got into you lately? Maybe you want to fill me in as to why all of a sudden you want to act like a bitch and pull this rank shit with me? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends?” he repeated the word with a sneer.

“Yes, friends,” you reiterated. “Ya know, pals? Good buddies? Or was I wrong?”

You had come here under the best of intentions, to clear the air of whatever the hell was going on, but his sudden hostility towards you changed all that without a second thought. Johnny wanted to continue with this bullshit then you were going to match that energy; you weren’t one to be fucked with. Even still, you needed to get down to the bottom of just how much he knew and fast.

What he said then took you by surprise. “What? Ah thought ye got wet by men in higher ranks,” the statement slipped angrily from his lips.

“Excuse me.”

Finally he looked back up into your face. “Did ye think ah wouldn’t fin’ oot about what it is ye’re up tae, hmm?” he questioned. “Aboot ye ‘n’ Ghost getting far tae familiar. Oh, thought yer wee secret was safe did ye?”

You stared back at him, furious. How the hell had he found out about that? Had he been following you when you didn’t realize it? You swore you’d been more than careful at keeping all that on the downlow. “I knew you were sweet on me, but fuck Johnny, you stalking me now?”

He shook his head. “Maybe ye should learn how tae fuck more quietly, lass,” he scoffed. “Ye’re lucky the whole base didnae hear ye taking th’ Lieutenant like a fuckin’ whore the other night, though now that ah think aboot it maybe they should. Maybe Price would like tae hear aboot this gross miss use o’ rank manipulation by one o’ his favorites.”

Oh, so this is what it was all about…that bit alone made it blatant; it was him that had been trying to sabotage you getting dicked good by the big man on base and it was all because he was jealous. His snide, underhanded comment made that crystal clear. You should have seen this coming a mile away, what with how he was practically in your pants at the bar that night, but being blinded by an overabundance of top quality dick can make anyone blind. Still, you never thought he would go as far as to threaten you; honestly you didn’t think he had it in him and it caught you slightly off-guard.

“Why don’t you just shut up and admit it,” you shot back with white hot aggression at his weak attempt at blackmail. “Admit that the only reason you’re standing here right now acting like this is because you didn’t get to tap it first. You had your chance the other night, do you know that? Shit, you had even more chances than that if we’re both being honest, it’s not my fault you didn’t jump on any of them. You snooze you loose, bitch, and now it’s the Lieutenant that gets all this to himself.”

Johnny had never been jealous of the masked man before the other night, but hearing that he had squandered his chances to have you only made his blood boil in his veins. All the time you had both spent together, all the flirting, was it all for nothing because he wasn’t headstrong enough to be his usual cocky self and go after what he wanted?

And then the bar, he hated to think it, but was that all a part of some big game? He had had his suspicions the way Simon had stormed out of there that night and you following not long after, but so entranced by your company he was that he let it slide. Now that he really thought it through it was something he had to push out of his mind because he knew he might not like the answer if he thought about it for much longer.

Cheeks burning and mouth dry, his emotions got the better of him and Johnny couldn’t stop the shit spewing forth from his mouth as he rose to stand on his feet. “Ye think ye’ve won th’ lottery, dinnae lass? Sure, L.T. might be able tae give yer body what it needs, I dinnae know what kind o’ game he’s got, but what aboot when he’s finished? Ye think he’s really th’ best option tae keep aroond?” he questioned, as he moved out from around his desk, closing the distance between you both with a few steps. “A’ve been soft aroond ye because of my feelin’s, but if ye wanted someone tae treat ye like a slag in th’ bedroom all ye had to do was say so. But what aboot after that though? How aboot also bein’ treated like a princess in public, cause if that’s th’ case yer lookin th’ wrong direction Bonnie. L.T. dinnae seem the type for that sort o’ thing.”

“And what if I like being treated as only a toy and nothing more, hmm?” you pressed him. “Maybe I don’t want to be your princess; maybe I like being a whore?”

Damn, he knew you were rough around the edges, a strong broad who knew exactly what she wanted, but something about a girl who wasn’t about to let a man make her feel weak in any sense of the word only made him want you more. Tough women who posed a challenge to win over made the Scotsman weak in the knees.

“An what aboot when he gets tired of ye, hmm? Ye know he will. Ye gonna come crawlin back tae me then?”

You smirked; god, he was trying his hardest to slide his way between you and Simon. Could you really blame him? No, but that didn’t make his disrespect any less. “Is this your angle? Talk shit and think it’s gonna change my mind, like I don’t know what the hell I’m getting myself into. Cause that’s pathetic.”

The corner of his lip upturned. “Na, pathetic is th’ way I’d have ye begging me fur more before Ah’m done, baby girl.”

Well damn, that wasn’t half bad, you thought with a chuckle. Eyes locked to his, you gave him a impressed nod. “I almost believed you, good job,” you praised his performance mockingly. “But I’m not some little girl that you can just throw on the charm and seduce; you think you know the type of woman I am, but you’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg baby. You gonna talk a big game, big man, you gonna have to live up to it.”

“Who says ah cannae?” he pushed back. “Maybe ye dinnae know me as well as ye think ye do either. Maybe ye’re afraid tae admit how much you want me.”

As if you had so easily forgotten how he used to act before his little heart had grown attached to you; like you hadn’t been there times before where he had picked up a girl from the bar, using not only the charm of his quick wit, but his slick attitude to win her over. Perhaps he had forgotten that you had not always been the object of his desire, but that was besides the point.

Johnny was trying to cross a dangerous line with you and that would not stand, not one fucking bit. Offended wasn’t the words because let’s be honest, being lusted after was anything but euphoric. However, if he thought he could come between you and Simon he had another thing coming; no matter what he did, there was no way you would not be immediately running back to the ghost-masked man of your desire. That didn’t stop you from playing the game though.

“I’m genuinely curious now since you want to talk your bullshit,” you said. “I know you have a cocky streak in you a mile wide so come on, let’s see it; show me what you got if you have the balls for it. Cash in on the checks that that mouth of yours is making. But, you know if ‘he’ finds out what you’re doing its not gonna end well for you.”

You thought calling his bluff would make him back down, but your challenge had the opposite effect now. The short distance that still existed between you both was now reduced to nothing and you could feel a muscular arm sneaking its way around your hip towards your back before he sharply snapped it back into himself with you in its grasp, pressing your body fully up against him. “Ah’m not scared o’ th’ likes o’ him.”

“You should be,” you smirked. “You think he likes to share? If you’re not careful you are gonna be in a lot of pain.”

That hand at your waist slithered its way down to your ass, where he palmed it and gave it a tight squeeze over your pants as he made your hips grind against him. “A’m done talkin aboot him ‘n’ what he wants,” Johnny said. “How aboot we talk aboot if ye want me tae stop.”

Fuck, the air suddenly felt thick with forbidden lust and though you would never belong to anyone other than Simon, it was hard not respond to Johnny’s overwhelming intensity for you in that moment. His other hand not currently gripping your ass found its way to the back of your head and he laced his fingers through the strands of your hair where he held them locked down before pulling to make your head jerk back and expose your neck.

Leaning in, his breath wafted over the tender flesh down towards your collar bone. Nostrils caught the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with your natural musk and it made his head spin. “Ye think ye know whit a’m capable o’, Bonnie, but ye have no idea. Why dinnae show ye just a taste o’ it? Think ye can handle it?”

You stayed silent as he brought his head in closer towards your own, his lips inching in towards your mouth steadily. Confident and headstrong looked good on him; he should have started with that from the beginning and maybe you both would have moved past friends sooner, but now that you knew what true domination felt like, he could never hope to live up to that. As good as you felt in his arms, there was no forgetting the man who was consistently making you come.

“Please, can I handle it?” you mocked. “I’d have you whimpering on your fucking knees in an instant if I wanted to.”

“We’ll see aboot that, lass,” he said as his lips were almost upon yours, his growing hard-on pressing into the bulk of your thigh. Desperate boy, you thought. The warm, sticky heat moistening the air around your mouths from your mixed breaths, his grip on the back of your head tightening as he agonizingly rendered the distance between you to near zero, made your pulse quicken in response under his touch. Just before that first connection…his lips nearly there…you could almost taste him…a voice boomed into the room from the door making you both jump.

“Mactavish!” a gruff voice bellowed out from right at the doorway, making the Scot’s head turn with a snap towards its source. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? You off your goddamn rocker?”

There he was in all his glory, the owner of your cunt, standing there menacingly as he took up the entirety of the exit with his size; his eyes flared with an overwhelmingly intense hatred for the man currently putting his hands all over what belonged to only him.

Leaning in towards his ear as Johnny kept his sight on a pissed off and fuming Simon, you chuckled low and seductive. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” you said in sing song fashion. “Told ya.”

Stalking inside with a huff as his pulse raced through his veins to make his body shake, Simon slammed the door to the office shut behind him and locked it, securing all three of you inside until he decided when and if he would release you. That strong jaw shifted back and forth under his mask as he ground his teeth together to stop the rage that would surely make him end up in military police custody for homicide from consuming him, though if Johnny didn’t let you go soon those twitching muscles in his forearm from his clenched fist would soon be connecting with whatever he could get his hands on.

“This doesn’t concern ye L.T.,” Johnny spat, still clinging to you tightly, “I sugges’ ye leave.”

“Fuck no, this directly involves me,” Simon hissed, cracking his knuckles that were itching to bash his skull in. The vitriol in his voice had enough of an acidic bite in it that it could have burned a hole through the fucking floor. “You currently have your filthy mitts all over something that doesn’ belong to ya. I sugges’ if you want to keep those hands attached to your goddamn arms you will get them off ‘er, now.”

“Ah think she can decide fur hers-,” Johnny tried to hold his ground, but that was not about to last. There was no chance in hell he could out intimidate the master of intimidation.

Simon cut him off abruptly before he could continue with this blatant disrespect by getting directly into his face, planting his boots firmly into the ground in case he needed to take more drastic action to get the bastard to release you back to him. The hate-filled glare that bore into Johnny’s eyes made a sneaky shiver run up his spine. “Do you think this is a fucking game, mate?” Simon threatened low and menacing, his accent getting more heavy with his growing anger. “I am not fuckin’ playin ‘round here. Get your filthy fuckin’ hands off of what isn’t yours. Now.”

The rage brewing within Simon’s words were not meant to be taken lightly and as he wasn’t about to move until you were free, there was nothing more he could do. Looking back towards you once again, Johnny bit his lip hard to stop himself from popping off without thinking things through and ripped his hand out from around the small of your back and off your hip.

“Come ‘ere,” Simon snapped his fingers at you and you shot Johnny one last look of ‘I did try to warn you’ as you crossed in front of him towards your lover.

Christ, that was too close for comfort and Simon needed to re-stake his claim right then and fucking there before he lost his goddamn mind; you were his. His. And Johnny was going to have to understand that right this fucking minute. Keeping this whole thing a secret only worked when no one was trying to worm their way between you both, now that Simon had seen with his own two eyes how his treasure had almost been stolen by someone he called friend he couldn’t see straight; he had to rectify this now and there was only one way.

He had to make his claim known without a shadow of a doubt to the one trying to undermine it.

Once you were within range, Simon grabbed you and spun you around quick; flinging your back at the wall before he pinned you against it. The full weight of his body pressed you into to surface as if he were trying to fuse you into it. In the same breath, his customary mask was wrenched above his mouth and he wasted not even a second before he took your lips heated and greedily with force.

Johnny had not kissed you, Simon’s sudden intrusion had made quite sure of that, but the bastard’s lips were near enough that that hulking beast of a man had to remove even the specter of their touch by taking them with a dizzying intensity that left you clenching your thighs. Goddamn was he grateful that a sudden knot in his stomach had told him to come find you; if he would have waited and Johnny had gotten to you he would have lost his fucking mind.

“Fine,” Johnny growled angrily at this garish pissing contest that he was being forced to witness as you both had him blocked in; screw this small ass office. “Ye’ve proven yer fucking point. Ah got th’ message. Now, how aboot ye get th’ fuck oot.”

Simon ignored everything around him except for you, his lips too busy performing that intricate dance of back and forth, connecting and reconnecting over and over with your full lips again and again until your mouth burned with the friction. Hands roaming your body, following curves that he knew by touch alone, periodically smashing up against you, a whimper escaped from you and Simon readily drank it down. You closed your eyes as you let him fill you with his possessiveness; this is why you could never ever belong to another.

“Did ye hear me?” Johnny piped up once more, done watching someone else make you come apart at the seams. He wanted you both out, now. “Ah said ah got it; Ah’ll leave her alone. Ye can fuckin go.”

One more hard, lingering kiss was left across your mouth before Simon broke the connection and paused a moment to admire his handiwork. Your lips, bright red and swollen from his assault, your cheeks blossoming with color, with the lust-drunk look plastered on your face, all made up the perfect picture. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Does he know?” Simon posed the question under his breath.

You nodded as you held Simon’s gaze. “Pretty much all of it,” you confirmed that there was no sense in hiding anything anymore as Johnny was aware of your involvement with each other.

“You want me to go, really? For what? So that you can try this shit again ‘nother time?” Simon challenged while keeping his eyes solely on you. “Sure, you’ll cool down for a bit, but let’s be honest mate; take a look at her, you aren’t gonna stay ‘way for long. No, no one’s going anywhere. Ya haven’t learned well enough yet, but that’s gonna be rectified right here and fuckin’ now.”

Giving your lower lip one last quick nip, he released you from his grip and turned to face his Judas. Brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, Johnny’s posture shifted as he stared back, waiting to see what Simon would do. His palms grew sweaty as Simon moved back towards him, pointing a thick finger hotly towards the chair stationed behind Johnny’s desk.

The idea came to him in a split second as rationality had fled when the anger had settled in, a nugget of a thought that was born that first night you and Simon had rekindled your passion for fucking each other’s brains out, and now it returned to the forefront of his thoughts. The way you nearly vibrated with excitement on top of him that night when he brought it up, he knew you would be more than game for it if he suggested it now; of course his perfect little whore would want nothing more than to please him.

“That type of disrespect isn’t gonna fuckin’ fly with me,” Simon hissed. “You knew she was not up for the takin’ and yet you still tried. Now you are gonna pay; you’re gonna sit there and watch as I fuck her right on your desk. You’re gonna listen as she screams my name and see first hand just why she is mine and mine alone.”

This was ridiculous; as if Johnny were just going to stay here and take this shit. “Ye cannae do this,” Johnny said in protest, but it was in vain as Simon was not going to give up; the beast had been provoked.

“Oh yes I can; you brought this on your goddamn self by putting your nose where it didn’t belong. Now, sit - the fuck - down before I make you,” Simon demanded and begrudgingly Johnny followed orders. The skull masked giant was scary intimidating when he wanted to be and with the several inches in height he had on the pretty boy in this enclosed space, it was enough to make him submit.

Johnny subdued, Simon refocused back on you. That rough palm cupped your cheek, making you look up at him and only him. With a heavy touch he drug the thick pad of his thumb over your lower lip as he stared at their fullness with hunger in his gaze.

“How about it, hmm?” he asked. “Why don’t we give Johnny boy here a show he won’t fuckin’ easily forget; it’ll be just like you wanted. Don’t you want him to see how good you take me? He thinks he knows what you need, how about we show him how bloody wrong he really is.”

The idea of performing in front of Johnny was enough to make your head buzz with the sudden intensity of your arousal. You would have allowed the entire base to watch you get plowed by Simon, getting absolutely destroyed by his massive cock, if he asked it of you, but Johnny would do just fine.

“Fuck yes,” you agreed without hesitation. Your lover had been disrespected after all and you knew with the way Simon was fuming that the rage-fueled sex would be oh so good right now.

“Good girl,” Simon praised in the gravely tone that fit his accent to perfection. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

Your lips already raw and still parted as you waited for his mouth to come back to yours, eyes hooded with lust, you did not even protest as those large hands moved down the front of your torso and took hold of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head to leave you standing in your bra.

“She’s really giving you a treat, Mactavish. You think everyone gets this view?” Simon spat back behind him as he moved you both right before the desk with you in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He may be the only one who could touch you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want others to watch as he did it. No, he wanted to parade you around just to show off what others couldn’t have.

Those muscular arms crossed themselves across your torso, pushing your tits together to give them more lift as they sat still inside your bra while his mouth found the crook of your neck where he laid the first of a few quick nips. “Neva seen such a glorious sight, have you Johnny?” he groaned, looking down into the peaks of your breasts that had popped up over the top of your lingerie. “Let’s make it even fuckin’ better.”

With one hand he drew the clasp in the middle of your back together, pinching the sturdy fabric until the tiny hooks unclasped themselves and your bra hung loose at the front of your chest. Coming back around, his hand grabbed at the middle of the bra and wrench it forward and off your shoulder to leave your breasts fully exposed. “Don’t need this, I’ve got something for those juicy tits.”

Those two oversized hands of his cupped the fullness of your breasts within their grasps, cradling them against the palms as they spilled a little through his grip. Taking your pink rosebuds between his thumbs and the side of his pointer fingers he rolled the tiny beads around until they stuck out prominently in between his digits.

“You like that you little slag? Fuck, you have enough tits to go around, luv,” Simon said pointedly against the side of your head as he continued to work at your nipples, waiting until he got the whimper he was looking for before addressing Johnny again in mockery. “Doesn’t that just eat you up inside Johnny boy? That I get all of this to my fuckin’ self?”

A hand slipped down the front of your pants and inside the waistband, traveling across the warm, soft skin of your abdomen until it hit the crotch of your pants so that he could cup that rough palm against your sex. A moan escaped your lips as he scooped up against it and applied a good bit of pressure. “Oh,” he hissed delightedly as a dampness instantly hit his hand, “she’s already drippin’ for me, aren’t you, luv? Mmm, I think she’s enjoin’ bein’ the center of attention. Too bad you can’t get a feel of these silky petals old boy; they’re so warm and wet and soft it should be a goddamn crime. Fuckin’ hell, they’d make Satan himself repent ina fuckin heartbeat.”

You could feel Simon’s girth throbbing against your tailbone as he massaged up against your swollen clit, his other hand still cupped around your breast. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, audience be damned. His cock was so hard it was about to rip a hole in the crotch of his pants as he put all his energy into you, feeling it throbbing with each beat of his pulse as his heart worked extra since all the blood had rushed to that girthy appendage.

Head heavily falling back against his shoulder, you let yourself go completely to him while your hips began to move with him as you thrust against his palm to create even more friction. The thrill of having Johnny sitting there, eyes glued to you as if he were unable to pull his sight from your form only made your skin tingle with excitement and heightened your arousal. It was true, you loved being the center of attention and to have Simon so possessive over you was the icing on this sinful cake.

“These have got to go, baby,” Simon’s voice at your ear growled, his hand leaving your cunt for the moment as he tugged at the waistband of your pants. Nimbling he undid the button and pulled down the zipper agonizingly slow and you swore you could hear the second that Johnny had stopped breathing.

Simon’s heavy panting was at your ear as the rest of the entire room stood silently still. If it were up to him in that moment he would have just thrown you over the desk and entered you without another second being spent, but his anger had not left him completely yet and he really wanted his brother in arms to be destroyed.

“Slide them off, easy now; make Johnny squirm with the anticipation of it,” he ordered before he leaned in so that only you would hear the next bit. “Make him pay for tryin’ to take you from me; ruin him.”

Lifting your head back up off Simon’s shoulder you brought your gaze directly to Johnny’s face, holding his sight locked in your own. Your mouth still agape with your short, rapid exhalations you made a show of slipping your fingers into the now opened waistband at the hips. Pushing them just a little, they moved down an inch as you jutted your hip out seductively. Then you paused as Simon latched those lips to your neck.

“Do you want to see me Johnny?” you asked in a breathy whisper. “Cause I really, really want you to see me. All of me.”

Johnny could have easily looked away from the sight before him, no one was forcing him to watch, but try as he might to pull his hungry gaze away he couldn’t. Simon was right, fuck you were gorgeous being absolutely manhandled like that even though it wasn’t him that was doing it. Still, the way your body looked as it flushed pink with the heat of your pleasure made it hard not to enjoy the show. If the tightness now giving the front of his pants a good tenting was any indication, he was going to be in pure agony for weeks on end.

His silent, wide-eyed stare spoke volumes and again you lowered the waistband just a bit more, right at the base of your pubic bone. The little patch of neatly trimmed hair at the top of your pussy had just started to peak through the zipper as you paused for the second time.

Sucking the silky smooth flesh of your neck, Simon hummed into you. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised how well you were following his direction. “Steady on.”

Heavy thumps from his pulsating heart could be felt in his ears as Johnny watched on with baited breath while you finally slipped the cloth concealing your cunt off your hips and down over the curve of your ass, not stopping until you had pulled them completely off your legs and they lay resting on the ground. Standing back up to your full height you gazed back up at your audience with innocent doe eyes as you bit your lip playfully.

“What do ya think?” Simon posed the question to Soap who was now foaming at the mouth. “Can you think of anything more beautiful than this? And it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

God, the ecstasy of being paraded around like Simon’s favorite toy was out of this world and you couldn’t help but revel in the euphoria of it all. As much as you knew Simon wanted Johnny to pay for what he did, you knew that the only reason he agreed to such a punishment in the first place was because he desperately wanted someone, anyone, to know that he had you under his thumb.

And something about how incredibly, indescribably, ridiculously hot that thought was made you absolutely feral.

You ran your hands around your neck and down around your breasts, giving them a squeeze before continuing down the line of your body. You glided over your hips while giving them a twist before stopping just shy of your cunt as Johnny’s chest heaved heavily up and down.

“Fuck,” he said barely above a whisper as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you smiled.

Simon moved back against you, his forehead resting against the side of your head as he pawed at his cock within his pants, trying to adjust the painfully tender organ to sit more comfortably to no avail; he was too worked up now and only one thing would fix it. Still, lips resting at your ear, Simon gave another command. “Touch yourself.”

That was an order you would not hesitate to follow.

Extending your middle and ring fingers, you slipped your hand fully down between your thighs and split yourself open slowly; fuck, you were just as tender as he was, your throbbing clit could barely take anymore without some form of release. Easing your fingers inside, you found that precious bean and began to stroke concise circles over the top of it.

“Mmmm…” you moaned into your closed mouth as a shiver ran through you.

Pressed up against you, Simon could feel the shake in your arm as you worked yourself, the muscle of your bicep vibrated on his torso and rubbed against his abdominals. He focused everything on the little mewls and groans you let flow out of you like music as you drew out your own ecstasy stroke by even stroke. If your loyalty to him was ever in question, it was resolved now as you followed his orders completely without hesitation.

You were the farthest thing from God as something could get, but the damnation was more than worth it just to covet you all to himself. If Simon ever felt the need to worship, it was your body that would be his religion now.

His hand cupped your cheek to hold your head against him. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” Simon groaned, eyes still closed. “Are you thinkin’ of me as your fingers do all the fuckin’ work?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Say it, out loud.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m thinking of that fat fucking cock of yours plunging deep inside me. Goddammit Simon, please, I need you baby.”

Yes, oh fucking God yes. “Look at Johnny, say it again.”

Eyes heavy lidded found the Sargent’s face. With voice clear, you spoke your truth, unashamed. “God I need to feel Simon’s cock stretching me out, filling me full, making me vibrate. Christ, I need him to fuck me stupid.”

A pathetic whimper sounded behind closed lips as your stroke hit a bit of extra sensitivity. The vision of him finally bending you over the desk to enter you was all you could imagine now and it made you writhe with anticipation.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted, his phallus bruising your leg as he ground the hard tip into your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking fill you so full to the goddamn brim with me, I’ll have your legs shakin’. You want that, to be stuffed full? Maybe I’ll really stuff you, give you everything.”

His brain was misfiring, his heartbeat pounding, his pupils dilating as each agonizing second passed until he could not hold back a thought that came forward towards the surface of his mind. The ultimate show of possession, the peak of ownership, the true slap in the face of the one watching you both right now. And he let out that thought that was snaking its way through him like electricity.

“How about we make Johnny watch as I fuckin’ breed you?” he growled, low and primal, putting his whole chest into it.

Simon almost had to grab you to stop you from falling as your knees nearly buckled out from under you at his salacious statement. That came out of nowhere to take you completely by surprise, but Jesus Christ what a visual that you were instantly obsessed with now. Was he trying to stop your heart because if he was going to say shit like that he better have a defibrillator on standby.

“Yes, fucking yes,” you whined as you fingers began to move faster and faster against your clit. “Do it baby, fucking breed me. Fill me nice and deep. Make this pussy yours.”

It was so wet between your legs the sound of your fingers stroke through your slick was now audible and Johnny was trying his hardest not to pass out. What he wouldn’t have given to have the balls to get up, throw Simon out, and have his fucking fill of you; that was a dream, but shit was he burning to slide his cock into that slopping mess gathering between your thighs.

“Please, Simon,” you cried out, “take me now. Please, I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I need to feel you.”

Simon’s member was so tender with a deep ache that it was almost painful. Enough was enough, screw Johnny and this bullshit display, this wasn’t waiting another second; if he wasn’t inside of you in the next beat it felt like he would burn to death.

A strong hand gripped your wrist and ripped your hand from out between your thighs before it moved to your hip and was joined by the other on the opposite one. You were being shoved forward, pushed from behind as Simon blocked your hips up against the edge of the desk. You were already bending over it when his forearm pressed into your shoulder blades to guide you down before his fingers were running the length of your spine to your ass.

The other hand quickly pulled down the zipper on the front of his pants and finally he was able to release himself, his pants hanging loosely about his lower hips. His cock was so swollen and feverish to the touch, the moment it hit the cooler air outside his clothing he winced. The two prominent veins along the length throbbed and pulsed with his raging heartbeat and the engorged tip shimmered with a bit of precum that had leaked out.

No time was wasted as he used his booted foot to spread your legs open wider, shifting his hips in against your ass as he slid the tip of his phallus between your damp petals. Slipping it back and forth as few times, he coated himself in your juices; he was about to go all in and he would take as much lubrication as he could so that nothing would be snagging.

Once satisfied he again grabbed your hips and aligned himself, thrusting hard towards your entrance, inserting himself fully into you. You took him all in perfectly, your body swallowing every last delectable inch as if it was designed to hold all of that girth.

“Oh god baby, you’re just suckin’ me right in, you greedy bitch,” he hissed, those fingertips bruising your skin as he held on for dear life. “Christ, take it all, slut.”

He had to pause to collect himself, otherwise this would be over before it had begun. It should be a goddamn felony for you to feel this good, as if it were that first time all over again. You had to have a bit of witch in you to keep him under your spell like this.

Breathing through the waves of ecstasy threatening to undo him, he regained his composure and began pounding into you with strong, robust thrusts, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into your core down to the base of his cock. Your body rocked against his intense thrusts, breasts bouncing across the desk as your face was pressed even further into the surface; you could only moan as the euphoria coursing through you at his movements was intoxicating.

A strong grip around your neck from behind picked up your head and pointed it forward right back at Johnny’s face from off the tabletop. Mouth open and jaw slack as you breathed through each delicious thrust from Simon’s cock, you locked eyes with the mohawked Sargent and held his gaze.

“There we go, you keep those eyes on ol’ Johnny boy there, pretty girl” Simon growled. “I want him to see the look in them as you take every last goddamn inch of me.”

The warmth radiating from his body made your skin tingle as your back began to glisten with perspiration; his fingertips left trails of fire everywhere he touched and you were more than willing to burn for him. He kept the pace even, making each thrust count as he hit that tiny bundle of nerve endings inside of you.

You could feel your pulse match his in perfect unison, your heartbeats determining the pace he pounded that cunt of yours. The harder his hips pumped into you, the more the sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the silence of the room. What beautiful fucking music your screwing made. The force shook through your trembling body, but the precision was spot on in hitting that perfect spot time and time again until you were so inebriated on the exhilaration of the over stimulation.

Gagging on his own moan, Simon looked down to watch himself thrust in and out of you. Too much, it was all too damn much; you took him so goddamn well, the way your juicy cunt pulled his cock in. No one had ever made him this pussy-drunk, not in recent memory and as you bucked against his pelvis, that intoxication only grew.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you buck any harder and I’m going to blow my load right fuckin’ now,” he grunted between thrusts. “You want that? For me to fill that pussy full? Why don’t you tell Johnny what you want.”

You licked your parched lips as you struggled to regain your ability to speak. “I need him to fill me Johnny,” you said, your eyes pleading with the man directly in your vision staring, unblinking. Your eyes begin to water, its too good, its too much. He’s hitting deep, as deep as the angle can get while his testicles bounce of your pussy to add that extra bit of stimulation. On your tiptoes, you are backing it up until your ass is flush with him, mouth hanging open as you pant like a bitch in heat, saliva threatening to drip from your lips. “Please, I can’t take much more.”

Johnny’s hand began pawing at himself unconsciously through his pants, trying to calm the storm. It feels like you are asking him a question, but his brain was so hazy he couldn’t form solid thoughts. That desperate look in your eye, the begging swimming in their depths, he could feel the breadth of your desire for the man behind you.

“Please…”

Simon turned his attention to Johnny for the first time since before he entered you and smirked. “So needy isn’t she?” he asked. “Always making me work for it. She’s almost fuckin’ there, though, but this part is just for me.”

Quickly he pulled his cock out of you amidst your whimpers at suddenly feeling empty and spun you around, picking you up so that your ass made contact with the surface of the desk where you sat. There was no need to worry, he was back in between those legs in the blink of an eye and as you wrapped your thighs around his hips, he thrust back inside that tight, sopping wet cave.

His body shuddered harshly from the feeling of your silky walls being wrapped around him again. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he grunted, his eyes meeting yours. You were a mess, a beautiful disaster, and his breath hitched as he admired your flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, swollen, cracked lips; all his doing.

Those primal instincts within his marrow took over and all he knew, all he cared about was the feeling of your walls constricting around him and how that pleasure takes all his cares away. His lips crashed upon yours furiously, completely muting your whines as his movements become more ferocious.

“You are mine,” Simon said repeatedly in hushed groans against your lips as if trying to pour the sentiment down your throat. “Mine.”

His, you thought. Only his.

Harder and harder his abdominal muscles clenched and retracted as he put everything into the force of his thrusts. Your tits bounced up and down in front of his face, jiggling with each hit as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to hang on as he rocked your body.

“Say it, I want to hear it,” he demanded suddenly; as much as he was struggling to hold it off, it wasn’t working, and he was about to come.

“I’m yours, Simon,” you mewled, your grip on his spine tightening.

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. “Again.”

You swallowed the saliva gathering in the front of your mouth to coat your parched throat. “I’m yours, Simon, only yours,” you said louder this time.

“Again.”

“Simon, this pussy is yours, only yours, forever yours. …Fuck.”

With that last syllable he was gone; his cock pulsed violently inside you, his body writhing harshly while he drained himself dry, coating your walls with his fluids as he continued to pump inside of you. There was no way he was going to give up until you had come too. A few more strong thrusts in and out with steady rhythm and that was all it took, you were crying out as well, throwing your head back as you shook with the intensity of it all. That grip on your hips turned painful as Simon dug his fingertips into your flesh to keep you both steady while you rode out your orgasms until there was nothing left to give and once he finally released you, you toppled backward onto the desk exhausted.

Pulling out of you nice and slow, everything was far to tender to move quick anymore, he gazed down at his masterpiece. Your entrance dripped droplets of his seed as it spilled out of you and something about it made him shiver with excitement. You looked absolutely divine stuffed with his cum.

As he looked back up towards your face, he was met with your sleepy, ecstasy-filled smile and his heart leapt in his chest. Goddamn, this was a fucking dream. He leaned over your exhausted body and pulled your head up, mashing his face into yours as he captured your lips and held them locked until he could feel your heartbeat slow to a more respectable rhythm.

Releasing you and resting his forehead on yours, he holstered his cock back inside his pants. “Get dressed and head back to my quarters, I’ll be there in a bit. I got something to finish up here first.”

You nodded into his head and he helped you to get up off the desk and grab your clothing, holding your tired, shaking body steady while you put everything back on. “You did so good for me, luv,” he whispered his praise before walking you to the door to unlock it and let you out, re-locking it behind you.

Johnny was already on his feet by the time Simon turned around. Crossing the room in just a few large steps, he was on him. Simon’s large hand wrapped itself around his throat as his face inched in closer in intimidating fashion.

“You ever try to touch ‘er again, anything more than just a friendly little handshake, and I will make it my mission to ruin your fuckin’ life. Understand me, Sargent?”

A nod of his head. “Yes,” Johnny said quietly as he struggled against his grip.

That wasn’t good enough. “I didn’t fuckin’ hear you,” Simon snapped.

“Yes, sir,” he said more firm this time.

“And if words get back to me that you went to Price about this, well, let’s just say that certain actions have consequences. Is that also fuckin’ clear?” Those rich chocolate eye bore down into Johnny’s soul with the seriousness of his words; this would be the one and only warning he got.

The sour look on Johnny’s face let him know he had gotten the message. “Crytsal, sir,” he confirmed.

“Good,” Simon snapped, releasing the grasp on his neck just as quickly as he had taken it.

Moving back, he straightened himself up to make sure nothing would look out of place to anyone he would pass on the way back to his room before speaking again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sargent. I know I will.”

And with that Johnny was left alone as Simon threw open the door and stalked back out of his office as if nothing of note had taken place here. There was no telling right then and there what would happen next, as Soap's head was still reeling, but one thing was for certain: things were about to get interesting.

Tag list: @igotmajordaddyissues , @abbiesxox

[bingwriterxo]

drunk

pairing: tara carpenter x freeman!reader

summary: in which you've turned to drinking as a coping mechanism

warnings: talks of stabbing, mentions of throwing up

word count: 1600+

scream 5 spoilers! read at your own risk!

Heavy and rushed knocks on the front door of the apartment drew Tara from sleep. She sat up in her bed with bated breath and turned on her beside lamp as she heard Sam flick her own light on in the bedroom next to hers. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, her sister's voice as she called out, "Who is it?", muffled noise as whoever was standing out in the hall answered, and then the clinking of locks being undone and the squeak of the door opening. 

Tara waited for a few moments, released the breath she was holding, and wondered if she'd have to get out of bed next. Her question was answered when Sam yelled, "Tara! Can you come in here?"

She slipped out of bed quickly, feet soft against the wood floor, and padded out into the living room. She was greeted by the sight of Sam, who was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, and Mindy and Chad, who were looking at her with worried eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. 

"Tara!" The voice startled her as it came from none of the three people she was staring at, and she ventured farther into the room until she could see over the back of the couch. You were lying there, a wide grin on your face at the sight of the brunette and your arms wide open, like you were expecting her to just lay down right on top of you. "Hi, baby!" you greeted. 

She smiled. "Hi, Y/N."

"She's, like, really fucked up right now," Chad said, and Tara whipped her head up, staring at him with wide eyes. 

"What do you mean 'she's fucked up right now'?"

"He means," Mindy began, causing Tara's attention to fall on her instead, "that she showed up at my dorm like half an hour ago looking for you. She was blubbering like an idiot because she missed you but forgot how to get to your apartment." The girl shrugged. "I went to get Chad and we brought her over here."

"That's the fourth time this week, Tar," Sam interjected carefully, watching her younger sister. "She's been drinking a lot."

Tara glanced down at you, who was staring at her with big, dreamy eyes and clearly not listening to the conversation at hand, and sighed. "I know." She glanced at her friends and sister. "She's...she's still coping with...you know." The brunette didn't have to say the words for them all to understand what she meant: Woodsboro. 

Of them all, you had probably experienced the worst betrayal--Amber was your twin sister, and you had had no idea what she was planning until it happened. The raven-haired girl had stabbed you mercilessly with the idea of leaving no survivors behind, and you nearly died. 

Tara had experienced far too many times the nightmares that you would wake up from, in which your sister was hovering over you again, that same horrible smirk on her face as she dug the knife into you repeatedly. She'd tried to get you to talk about it, but you always refused and instead turned to partying as much as possible, which always resulted in this same ending--you, on her couch, plastered to the point of no return, and her taking care of you. 

Sam sighed. "I'll grab some Advil and water." She turned to Mindy and Chad. "You two can go now, if you want. Or stay." She shrugged. "Either way. Doesn't matter to me." She made her way to the kitchen, and the twins decided to follow her, leaving you and Tara alone in the living room.

"Oh, Y/N," Tara sighed as she rounded the couch. She kneeled beside you and placed her hands on your cheeks gently. You simply watched, leaning into her touch a bit. 

"Hi, pretty girl," you slurred, and, even after having been with you for the past three years, Tara could feel herself blush at the compliment. "Can we go cuddle?"

"Soon, my love." She rubbed her thumb against your skin and leaned closer. Your eyes flitted down to her lips, and she chuckled. "You can't keep doing this to yourself," she whispered. "It's not good for you."

You sucked in a breath. "Yeah."

Tara knew she wasn't going to get a real conversation out of you, not when you were that drunk, but she took that word as a sign that you at least knew that what you were doing wasn't right. She sighed and decided to table the conversation for the morning.

Sam returned then, with the twins in tow, and said, "I left two pills and a glass of water on your nightstand for her when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Sam," Tara said gratefully. She stood up and glanced at you before looking to Chad. "Could you...?"

He nodded and crossed the room, slipping one hand beneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees. He picked you up gingerly and carefully carried you to Tara's room, lying you down on her bed. 

"Be good, champ," he said to you, squeezing your shoulder lightly before telling Tara, "We'll come by tomorrow."

"Okay," the brunette said with a nod, and then he disappeared, shutting the door behind him. She could hear the twins and Sam talking softly in the living room, most likely about the situation at hand, but her attention was focused on you. 

"Can we cuddle now?" you asked.

"Soon," she repeated. "Let me get you out of those clothes." She was gentle as she helped you out of your jeans and top, and then just as gentle as she slipped you into a pair of her pajama shorts and an old soccer t-shirt of hers. "Doesn't that feel better?"

You only hummed in response, and she knew that the alcohol was starting to put you to sleep. She nodded to herself and then climbed into bed beside you, reaching over your body to shut off her lamp. Once the two of you were encased in darkness--save for the small night light Tara had glowing in the corner; she couldn't find it in herself to sleep in the complete dark anymore, and neither could you--she wrapped an arm around your waist and buried her face between your shoulder blades, legs intertwining with your own.

"I wish you'd stop doing this to yourself," she whispered to ears that weren't listening. She held you close and tried to ignore the tears that pricked at her eyes. 

* * *

When she woke up, you were no longer in bed with her, but she could hear you in the bathroom throwing up, and she ran a hand down her face. The noise only lasted for a moment before the flush of the toilet came, and then the sound of the faucet, and then you were standing in her doorway, your palm pressed to your forehead.

"I feel like shit," you mumbled. 

Tara chuckled softly. "Well, you were really drunk last night, so I'm not surprised."

You groaned as you sauntered toward her bed, throwing yourself down on the edge of it. She sat up, rubbing a slow hand down your spine as you sat there, praying for your head to stop pounding. 

"Could you hand me the stuff on your nightstand?" you asked, referring to the pills and water Sam had left there the night before. Tara nodded, shuffling a bit before returning to you, placing the items in your hands.

You took the pills quickly and gulped down the glass of water after them, sighing with relief as the liquid quenched your parched throat. 

Silence blanketed the two of you for a moment before Tara decided to speak up. "That was the fourth time this week that that's happened, Y/N," she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

You clenched your eyes shut at the thought, releasing a shaky breath. "I know." You turned to her. "And I'm sorry that you keep having to take care of me."

She shook her head. "That's not what I care about. I'm more than happy to take care of you when you need it." She inhaled deeply. "But you can't keep doing this. It's not healthy."

You glanced down, staring at the bedsheets. "I know that, too, but...the only time I can't hear her is when I'm drinking." You swallowed. "Any time else, she's in my head. I don't...I don't know what else to do," you confessed quietly. Tara could see tears brim your eyes. "She won't go away."

"Is it just...that night?" she asked carefully. She didn't want to push, or that would cause you to end the conversation completely, and this was the most she had gotten out of you since the attack happened. 

"No," you said with a shake of your head. "No, sometimes it's just...memories, of growing up. I mean, with our parents gone all the time, we were basically the only family each other had. She...she wasn't great, obviously, but she was still my sister, and I just--" You were trembling, thoughts of Amber swirling around in your head and tears unable to be kept at bay. "I miss her, Tara."

"Y/N..." Tara wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, your face burrowing into her neck. She felt as your tears soaked her skin, and she held you tighter. "You're allowed to miss her. It's normal."

"But with everything she did, I feel like I shouldn't," you sobbed. "It's just...it's so much. And I--God, Tara, I just want things back to the way they were."

She ran her hands through your hair. "I know, baby. I know."

"How do I get it to stop? H--how do I stop feeling like this?"

Tara sighed. "It's gonna take time, sweetheart. And talking, too, you know. That'll help."

You pushed yourself further into her. "I'm sorry," you cried.

She shushed you. "What're you apologizing for? You don't have to apologize."

"I've been such a mess recently, and...and you've had to take care of me, and--"

"It's okay. It's okay." She tightened her grip. "You're okay. We'll just...we'll find you a better outlet, okay? That sound good?"

You nodded against her, your sobs quieting a bit. "Thank you. For being here. For sticking with me, after everything."

Tara pulled away just enough to place a kiss against your temple. "I'll always be here. I'm not going anywhere."

[ornii]

“The Fun Way…”

Yelena Belova X Male Reader

Yelena thinks you’re seeing another Woman, but it’s much more complicated than that.

Taiwan, you crept inside an apartment complex and to a door. You slowly gripped the handle and drew your SG-09 Handgun. Opening the door you crept in the dimly lit small room, searching quickly you noticed the dim lights, and TV was off. You felt it and sensed warmth. It was turned off recently. You gave it one last look before sensing someone was in the room, calmly you lowered your handgun and pressed the device in your ear.

“Yelena, Room 301.” You said, “seems they left.. we recon in 5.” It was a lie, Yelena knew that and made her way upstairs as you waited the attack. You heard the shuffle of feet and quickly turned around, before you could even lift your gun the Windows legs clamped around your neck and pinned you to the door and slammed it shut. dropping your gun you gripped her hips and swung her into the wall as she fell. Being a Super soldier you excelled in Hand to Hand combat, which you slowly began to dominate her in, ducking her punches and kicks and trying to restrain her with little success, due landed a good jab to your nose, making you judo throw her right into the kitchen and into the table.

“Okay! Are you done now?” You asked her approaching, she quickly took a kitchen knife.

“Of course not.” You duck the first few swings until she catches the blade right in your shoulder. This time you don’t hold back and slam her into the kitchen sink pretty hard. She relates with another leg choke, a triangle. You fell back and landed back first on the table, your vision slowly faded into a mist of red caught the window, and something in her just, changed. You looked over to Yelena who casually sprays the woman. Who snaps out of her trance, and quickly lets you go.

“I’m sorry I—“

“He’ll be fine.” Yelena said, and let the girl go, you sit up as you yank the knife from your shoulder. “Where were you?” You asked her, and began to look for a rag.

“I was, here. Walking.” She shrugged, you slowly turned to face her. “Walking? While I was fighting for my life?” You huffed, Yelena sat down at the broken dinner table.

“Well, if I do remember correctly before we got here to said “They’re just a bunch of woman, how bad can they be.” Is what you said, so I thought you could handle it.” She obviously was thickening the sarcasm. You reluctantly found a washcloth and pressed it against your wound. “Fair enough.” You muttered. You felt the sudden ting of your phone, and checked it. A smile crept along your face that Yelena noticed immediately.

“Something amusing?” She asked, you put the phone away and stood up with a smile. “Nah, just have a meeting with someone, hopefully it goes well.” You leaned in placing a warm kiss on her cheek, Yelena was pretty confident in her relationship with you, why wouldn’t she? She’s never had any reason to lack any, until now.

“So, any other windows here or…?” You slowly trailed off, Yelena shook her head.

“Um, no.. none else.” You said.

“Awesome, New Yorks hours away, you should sleep on the flight there.” You walked to the door, and Yelena watched you go, something in her gnawing her to ask you, but she doesn’t. You had your own trip planned, not back to New York but to a small town called WestView, New Jersey.

You pulled up to the home in your rented car and exited the vehicle, taking a deep breath you approached the front door and knocked. You waited for what felt like forever, until a familiar face opened the door; Wanda.

“You’re here early, she said.” You awkwardly laughed as you looked around. “Yeah when I saw your message I uh.. rushed here.”

“All the way from Taiwan?”

“Heh… Yeah.” You admit, Wanda shook her head and side stepped, letting you in. You walked into the house that felt like it was out of an early 90’s sitcom. “Sit.” She said, you find a somewhat comfortable spot on her couch and so does Wanda, more leisurely of course. “You really must be in trouble if you came to New Jersey for the Scarlet Witch.” She jokes, but you were and you admitted it.

“It’s.. yeah.. I am, Wanda I.. I don’t know how to say this without this being awkward but Yelena and I are in a bit of a bind.” You explain, she raised an eyebrow to the statement and she leaned forward a bit.

“What kind of.. Bind?” She said, and you reluctantly answered.

“We.. want to have a child.” You explain, “Well.. I doubt you need my help in that, you both are adults—“ she starts but you cut her off.

“No not with.. that part, you see.. when Yelena became a Widow, they took her to the red room and..” you make a scissor cutting motion with your fingers. Wanda gets what you meant.” They took her ovaries..” she muttered, you nodded.

“And I see the look on her face when we walk past baby clothes and moms holding their kids it.. it hurts her, and I want to do this for her.” You explained, you always asked Yelena what she thought about kids, always called them annoying or something along the caliber of that. But the sad longing look in her eyes said more than her words. “I don’t know if it would take both of our blood or some magic ritual but I want her to be able to have a kid, to be a normal person, to feel like her life isn’t just murder and espionage and death..” you ranted on to Wanda who listened intently, seeing the pain and frustration in your voice and eyes.

Wanda’s brow furrowed and, she asked you a question that you for whatever reason never asked yourself. “Have you considered adoption?”

“… Shit.” was the only thing you could mutter, Wanda tilts her head. “Were you going to ask me to make a magic baby for you before even considering adopting?” Wanda asked in disbelief. “Did you?” You casually responded, which shut her up.

“Fair enough.” She said, but if you want this to work you have to tell her, I can heal her body and that should work but it’s not a full proof plan.” Wanda explained, but a chance was more than enough for you, you hugged Wanda, happy. Little did you know Yelena was watching, not interfering but still watching.

Returning to your New York apartment you immediately felt unease. You calmly drew your pistol and called out. “Yelena? I know you’re here…” you aimed your gun and took a step, moved into the kitchen. Yelena was waiting, both of you aiming weapons at each other.

“Hey.” You said.

“Hey yourself.” Yelena huffed and kept her hands firmly on the pistol. “You obviously seem upset about something, so do you want to talk about it?” You asked, unsure how this is going to end.

“Oh now you want to talk, I thought you did your talking in Jersey.” Her rebuttal was cold and full of Malice, and you slowly realized she knew. You lowered your firearm. “That.. it’s not what you think—“

“Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re shaking up with some Slakovian witch under my nose?!” Yelena has her finger on the trigger, this was obviously a misunderstanding and you drop the gun. “Oh, that’s what you think… it’s, a lot more complicated than that.. can I explain? Please?” You asked, and slowly reached for the chair, Yelena watched your slow movements as you sat down, she angrily did as well but still had the gun under the table ready to fire.

“I went to Wanda to ask her for help, with.. Us. I know you want a life more than almost dying every time, maybe a.. family. So I asked Wanda if it would be possible for us to.. have a family. I know I should have asked you before telling you. I was just excited when Wanda wanted to talk. I’m sorry.” You have your best to make Yelena understand, you expected anger and frustration but all that was on her face was sadness. She blinked a few times before she had glossy eyes.

“You.. you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You replied, Yelena sighed, “I’d be a terrible mother..” she frowned, “I don’t know how to take care of a baby.”

“We can.. learn together, you’d be a great mother, you’re loving but brutally honest too. Especially to me, but I know deep down you’d love and care for them.” You stood up, approaching Yelena’s side as you knelt down and placed your hand on her leg, her beautiful eyes looking at yours.

“YA lyublyu tebya, Yelena” (I love you, Yelena) and I don’t want you to feel like the things you aren’t are obtainable because of someone else, I’ll do whatever I can to live a life with you.”

Yelena’s face held such pain only for a moment, and she pushed them down and smiled. “Okay, you’re forgiven..” she smirked.

“Good. So, will you do it?” You asked. She nodded, “I will.. can we go to an orphanage in Russia?” She asked, which slightly confused you.

“Oh, umm yeah…” you said, which confused Yelena. “You.. did want to adopt, right?” She said unsure. “Well I.. asked Wanda if she could give you back your.. you know.” You awkwardly explained.

“Ovaries.” She said, trying not to laugh.

“I mean.. Yeah.” You couldn’t look her in the eye, Yelena cups your face, tilting it up to meet hers.

“You want to make babies the fun way, hmm?~” She actually giggled. You saw the joy, love in her eyes. You always had charisma and suave, but Yelena made you feel that teenage love you missed out on. You held her wrists and smiled, happy, content, in love…

With all that she’s been though, Yelena Deserves a happy ending.

[thexmistress]

Happy Anniversary Pt. 2

5 years later Friday. March 20, 2023, 8:05am

It would be a lie if Satoru said he felt any regrets at this moment laying in bed with Utahime while their son came barging in their room and jumping on their bed making them laugh at his hyperness. “Look what I made dad! I drew a picture of me,” the boy pointed to the small blob on paper, “mommy,” pointing to the bigger blob in the middle, “and you!” Pointing to the even bigger blob making Satoru chuckle taking in the family portrait. Satoru sat up and placed Ren in the middle of him and Utahime.

He took the picture from the snaggle tooth child and examined it closer “This is a masterpiece Ren! I knew you took after me in many talents but this just takes the icing on the cake…. but why do I have black hair?” Satoru questioned the boy making the raven-haired child smile at him sheepishly “uh... I can’t find my white crayon, so I just made your hair the same as me and mommy” Utahime giggled and snuggled their child closer to her “well it’s perfect honey” she peppered kisses over Ren’s face making him giggle.

At that moment Satoru felt free watching the woman he loves with their child. He wanted nothing more than to savor this moment forever. Getting out of bed he looked towards them “Well how about we celebrate our son becoming the next Picasso and go out to eat for breakfast! I can call Uncle Suguru too so he can join us.” What Satoru thought was going to be another good day turned out to be the worst day ever in his life.

Breaking News: A car accident reported in Tokyo, Japan at 10:46am. A side-impact collision between 2 cars leaving 1 child in critical condition. The remaining passengers have been reported to face minor to no injuries.

JR Tokyo General Hospital 4:35pm

It has now been hours since they been at the hospital. Satoru never felt so scared and guilty in his life. It all happened so fast he didn’t see the truck coming from the side of them he blames himself for being too busy singing on the top of his lungs with his son and Utahime that he didn’t even had time to register the truck speeding towards them, towards Ren’s side. He had his face in his hands the entire time his son was in the operating room.

Utahime was embracing the sobbing man telling him it’s going to be okay trying to ease the pain they both were going through. They were so engrossed with one another they didn’t even notice Suguru running towards them looking frantic. Suguru stood in front of them and crouched down in front of Satoru before taking one of his hands, he turned to look at Utahime “Where is he? I came as soon as you called, what happened?”

Satoru was still looking down at the ground with tears that were silently flowing, face masked with guilt and anguish. “I-I… I didn’t see the truck Suguru, I swear I didn’t… we should’nt have left the house... it’s all my fault.” The man in front of them broke down again causing Utahime to reach out to him and pull him towards her into an embrace, rubbing her hands up and down his arm trying to console him. Suguru let go of his friend hand and looked at Utahime. They locked eyes for a few seconds sharing a moment of grief before she focused her attention on Satoru.

Another hour passed and the doctor came to them telling them their child was in stable condition but would need a blood transfusion due to the loss of blood during surgery. Satoru being the father hastily agreed to donate blood making Suguru glance at Utahime who was refusing to look the raven-haired man way. Satoru gave a quick kiss to Utahime before following the Doctor to do the blood transfusion while one of the nurses came to escort Utahime and Suguru to the new room Ren was transported.

Entering the room Utahime almost broke down seeing her child hooked up to an IV bag and a breathing tube. She quickly went to the side of the hospital bed and embraced her child’s hand tearing up at the sight of her baby. Suguru who was quiet this whole time was soaking everything in. It pained him to see Utahime and Ren in this state and he walked to the same side Utahime was on looking at her before glancing at the child that was unconscious……. “Is this our Karma?”

Blood transfusion denied. Reason: Not a match

“What?” Satoru srunched his face in confusion as he looked between Utahime, Suguru, and the nurse. Only two of them was refusing to make eye contact with him while the nurse looked at him with a look of pity. Utahime continued looking at their son laying in the hospital bed with tears threatening to flow down. “What do you mean it’s not a match? Is this a prank?” Satoru took a step towards the nurse “How am I not a match when that’s my son?!” Satoru yelled at the nurse who only looked at him with that same look that he didn’t want. She took a step towards him and placed her hand on his arm before saying the very thing Satoru was too blind to see. “It means you are not the father Mr.Gojo, I am sorry. But we need to find a match soon... When you all find a match, please come get me or the doctor so we can arrange the blood transfusion as soon as possible.”

With that the nurse left the 3 adults in the suffocating room. The tension in the room was unbearable and with Satoru still standing in the same position for the past 3 minutes the other 2 adults were starting to squirm in their seats. Suguru foot was tapping the moment the nurse told Satoru the news and it was at that moment Suguru realized he had enough, he couldn’t do this anymore so knowing the next few words that would come out his mouth would ruin the friendship him and Satoru shared he knows he couldn’t keep living in this lie. So, he stood up and faced Satoru who only looked at him with teary eyes and opened his mouth to say “It’s me. I’m the father of your child.”

It all happened to quick for Suguru to react because next thing he knew he was on the ground after getting punched in the face by Satoru. Security was called after many of the nurses tried to get Satoru to let Suguru out of a chokehold and soon after the white-haired man whose strands were painted red with blood had to be escorted off the premises. As he was being escorted out the room by police Utahime was clinging on to his arm rambling her sorries to him.

Her crocodile tears were making his ears ring and at that moment for the first time he truly felt regret, he couldn’t believe he was living in a lie for 5 years. He yanked his arm from her grasp and looked down at her with a look that made her stop her ramblings, “I don’t want to hear shit from you anymore, we’re done! I wasted 5 years! 5 years! That’s not even my kid in there! If you can lie to me about that, what else were you lying about?!” Before she could answer the police nudged him to continue walking out the hospital doors leaving the tear faced woman alone watching his silhouette grow smaller in the distance.

(Y/n)’s Apartment 11:20pm

You were glad you finally had a night off and Aimi was fast asleep on the floor with her blanket wrapped around her. Her white hair (that unfortunately she took after her father) was sprawled out in a tangled mess from all the playing she did at Yuji’s 6th birthday party earlier. You groaned because you could’ve sworn you dropped her off with a nice ponytail and was mortified when you came to pick her up and watched her running out the house with a bird nest on top of her head.

‘It’s going to be a pain to brush her hair tomorrow’ you thought to yourself. ‘She’s still adorable though… even with that bird nest on her head.’ You giggled to yourself before turning your attention back on your show taking a few sips of your wine. You hate to admit it but ever since you gave birth to Aimi you’ve been drinking a lot more and now it became a habit, a routine. If you didn’t have at least 1 glass of wine before going to bed you were going to get a little cranky.

Your parents mentioned going to counseling because they were convinced you were depressed…. which they’re right of course but you felt like talking about the hurt you went through with your divorce and the 2nd half of your pregnancy wasn’t going to change anything. You just wanted to stop feeling hurt, but you wouldn’t even say you’re still hurt…... oh, who are you kidding, you’re still hurt but it’s more on the numb side. You don’t feel your heart leaking but it’s leaking.

Having to take care of a spitting image of him doesn’t help either and don’t even get you started on how Satoru’s instagram was filled with the birth of him and Utahime’s child but none of yours…. he didn’t even show up to the labor. He came the day after and in the words of Satoru “I guess that counts for something right?” You started feeling irritated again thinking about that while you take another sip or four of your wine. You weren’t even paying attention to your show at the moment. Just thinking how lousy of a baby father he is. He barely even sees his daughter, the agreement between you both was you have her on the weekdays, and he would have her on the weekends. Before she could even turn 1 the agreement of him having her on the weekends turned into every other weekend which now turned into once a month or whenever he can “make time”. ‘That lousy son of a-’

*ring**ring* *ring* your phone going off interrupted your thoughts and your face immediately sours after reading the name. Now what business do he have calling this late at night? “What is it Satoru?” You asked answering the phone. You were met with silence and white noise. You were starting to get impatient and almost hung up until he sighed and spoke in a low voice. “Sorry to call so late.. I-I was wondering if I can come over tomorrow night to see you and Aimi… I-I want to discuss some things… there’s some things I need to apologize to you for. To apologize to both of you.” It was now your turn to be silent. He wanted to apologize? ‘Aren’t you about five years too late?’ Is what you really wanted to say and end the call right then and there but at the same time it’s been about 4 months since Aimi got to see her dad and she has been asking about her “Toru-ru” (a nickname she came up with since she learned to talk) you sighed and internally rolled your eyes before saying “okay, come over around 7pm.” You hung up tossing your phone beside you and eyed the wine that you still had in your glass…. After 5 years now he wants to apologize. You gulped down the rest of the wine feeling it warm your belly. ‘I guess that counts for something right?’

Saturday. March 21st, 2023, 6:52pm

“Mommy! Are we really going to see Toru-ru?” Your daughter was excited, her blue eyes were gleaming as she swayed in her seat. You never thought to correct your daughter into saying daddy instead of the nickname she came up with because in your eyes he was never really a good father to her anyways. “Yep. He’ll be over here in a few minutes, and we’ll spend some time with him, he wants to see his little princess.” You gave her a kiss on the forehead and finished adding the final touches to dinner.

You made creamy shrimp pasta with sun-dried tomatoes since pasta was Aimi’s favorite meal to eat. She loves pasta so much you always tease her that she’s going to turn into one which she would reply “That would be the best thing to ever happen!” You turned the stove off and started to wonder to yourself if you were really cooking this for Aimi or for yourself. Well…. you’re really doing this for yourself. You hate to feel this way but you long for the look in your daughter eyes when the 3 of you are all together spending time even though it doesn’t happen that often. You can’t help but to feed your crazy delusions in having that family moment of just you 3 eating dinner together because you felt like you were robbed of it. Of everything. And it hurts you that you couldn’t provide Aimi with that stable family environment like her friends. She may not mention it, but you know deep down it affects her.

The doorbell to your apartment broke your thoughts and before you could react your daughter is already opening the door yelling “Toru-ru!” Holding her hands out for the blue-eyed devil to pick her up. He chuckled and tried to match her enthusiasm as he picked her up giving her kisses all over her face “Hey my princess, now why are you answering the door?? What if I was a stranger? That’s not safe” He gave her more kisses to her face making her giggle “But you’re not a stranger to me dad” She gave him a toothy grin. ��Bullshit. He damn near is’ you thought to yourself before setting up the dinner table.

Satoru walked into the kitchen looking at you and taking the sight of you in. It’s been about 4 months since y’all seen each other and he can’t help but to feel a little awkward, not knowing what else to say he put Aimi back on the ground before walking closer to you making you look up at him. He smiled at you, and you noticed his eyes were a little puffy. ‘Was he crying?’

“Hey (y/n) thank you for allowing me to come over and spend time with you and Aimi” he took a seat at the table and you placed a plate in front of him, “I mean you are her dad, you’re supposed to spend time with her right?” You couldn’t help but to let the attitude show through your voice and you scolded yourself because you didn’t want Aimi to catch on, it wouldn’t be healthy for her to know you absolutely hated her dad’s guts. Aimi took the other chair and scooted it closer to her dad so she can soak up as much quality time with him as she can. “Toru-ru! You wouldn’t believe what happened at Yuji’s birthday party yesterday!” She started rambling to her dad and as you were placing the food on their plates you were started to relish this time

With Aimi catching up with her dad you glanced at Satoru who was giving his daughter all his devoted attention laughing when she would say something ridiculous. You started to feel your heart leak again. You took your seat at the table near them after you filled your plate with food telling them they can eat. “And one time mommy had a friend over, and he was helping make spaghetti, but they spilled ALL the sauce on the floor, and they fell! It was so funny!” At that Satoru head perked up from his plate and he glanced at you “Mommy has a friend?”

The question was geared more towards you, and you couldn’t help but to feel irritated of that accusing tone. “Yes, I had a friend over last week and his name is Toji. He came over with his son for a play date.” Satoru only looked at you as his ears perked up at the name and couldn’t help but to feel jealous. Throughout the whole 5 years he knew you were single so hearing you have a new ‘friend’ and it’s a guy that also has a kid was kind of eating at him as selfish as it sounds, he knows he has no place to say anything but Satoru being Satoru couldn’t help but to let his jealousy show. “So, you’re setting up my daughter on play dates with boys now?” You scoffed because you couldn’t believe the audacity this man has. “You’re daughter? Do you even have the right to say that?”

You both were glaring at each other and Aimi wasn’t a dumb child she started to have a feeling this family time wasn’t going to go well so she sneaked out carrying her plate to the living room with her iPad trying to hold in her tears. You noticed the change in your daughter demeanor which made you even angrier at the man glaring at you. “Do you see what you are doing? She wants to spend time with you and you’re just letting yourself absorbed feelings get in the way of that!” It was now his turn to scoff

“me? You’re the one who just denounced my fatherhood in front of our child!” You rubbed your forehead already getting tired. You’ve been so tired for so long and the emotions your heart was leaking was starting to get a bit too much for you to handle. You got up grabbing your plate “you know what, you’re right I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of her. I’m going to go upstairs you can still spend time with her.” You put the scraps of food in the trash and the plate in the sink and began to head out the kitchen until Satoru grabbed your hand softly turning you to face him. You looked up at him trying to hold back tears. He looked at you with so much emotion and he bit his bottom lip to keep him for crying for the 10th time today.

“What is it Satoru?” You softly asked as you glanced away. You were suddenly taken aback when he embraced you into a hug. You felt him place his hand on the back of your head while his other arm was wrapped around your torso. He held you so close to him that you could hear his heartbeat and you swore you could hear his heart leaking like yours. “I’m so sorry (y/n), for everything, for cheating on you to abandoning you when you were pregnant, God, for not being there for Aimi,” he started sobbing on your shoulder and a part of you wanted to console him, but your arms just laid to your side. “Satoru please let me go so we can sit down and talk.” he didn’t want to let you go but he listened and sat down at the same table where he left you 5 years ago. It felt like déjà vu for him and if he could rewind time to stop himself from betraying you, he would. At this moment he would give up his kidney to be able to go back in time. He couldn’t help but to feel like this was his Karma and he never felt so wrong in his entire life.

“Why now? Why after 5 years?” You broke his train of thought as you stared at him from across the table with a stoic expression and arms crossed. “I –“ He began to answer but you cut him off, “why didn’t you show up when I was in labor? Why didn’t you keep your promise to see your little princess every weekend? How could you cheat on me while I was pregnant? While you were living with Utahime in her big house playing daddy I was here working overtime as a single mother…. And I still am, we would’ve got evicted out of this apartment if it wasn’t for Toji who paid our rent 3 months in advance to give me breathing room. God! I’ve only known him for half a year and he’s already been more of a father to Aimi than you ever been for the whole 5 years she’s been on this earth. He’s spent more time with her than you ever did, and I’m not even dating the guy, he does it because he wants to!” You sighed rubbing your face with your hands feeling the tingling sensation of your eyes water,

“I just felt so abandoned and alone Satoru. The trauma from the pregnancy to the birth to now is just too overwhelming for a simple Im sorry. I honestly don’t even want to hear it because it’s not going to change anything that I went through. It’s not going to change the hurt Aimi would feel when she can’t spend time with her dad cause she doesn’t ‘fit in his schedule’…. So why now after all of that are you here to apologize?”

You were breathing a little heavy after your rant and you still sat across from him waiting for his response. It was like your words knocked the wind out of him. He was so riddled with guilt and regret that he couldn’t keep his eyesight from blurring due to the tears. “I wasn’t a man… I’m not going to make excuses for my actions because there are none…. I found out yesterday that Ren isn’t my son. Suguru is the father and at that moment I felt so betrayed by both of them that I thought about you and how I betrayed you. I’m sorry that it took all this time for me to see that…. I... came here to apologize to you and I want to do better for our daughter. I wasted five years raising a son that wasn’t mine when I neglected my own daughter. I know what we had is over and what I did to you is unredeemable but,”

Satoru got up from the chair and walked in front of you and started to get on his knees keeping eye contact with you before bowing to the ground with his head touching the floor. “Please let me redeem myself to our daughter, please let me show you both that I will be a better father for her, please.” He was still bowing on the ground, and you couldn’t help but to feel a little pity for him…. But at the same time, you felt like why should you give grace to the man that was literally the cause of your depression until you remembered the sight of your daughter when Satoru came and how happy she was. You may not be as forgiving but a child seems to always forgive their parent for their shortcomings. You ran your fingers through your hair and sighed before giving in. “Okay... let’s start with you having her on the weekends.”

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 4

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |-| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: Frankie and Rosie grow closer in the aftermath of another tough mission

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

Rosie sat in the cockpit waiting for the order to depart, practically twiddling his thumbs as every minute that passed spurred his anxiety for his team's first mission. He had never been a nervous flyer - quite the opposite, it was the reason he'd been given command in the first place - but the seemingly endless wait left him growing irritable, the headset that covered his ears reflecting the relentless thump of his heartbeat right back at him.

The smell inside the bombers was a constant, permeating combination of sweat and smoke, a smell he could never quite get used to, no matter how much time he spent sitting in it. Pappy was in the seat beside him, using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe a wark off of his goggles that Rosie was fairly certain was a scratch, and no amount of scrubbing would make it yield.

His attention was caught by the sound of yelling outside, the exact words muffled by the glass barrier that existed between the pilots and the outside world. Looking out, Rosie spied Frankie and Lemmons, calling to each other as they approached from either side of the runway. They were each holding empty fuel cans in both hands, and clinked them together like glasses in greeting as they met in the middle. Frankie passed her weight from foot to foot, swaying slightly on her hips as if to a song only she could hear - she must have been hours into her work, and it seemed that on mornings this hectic once she had begun moving she didn't stop.

A huff of laughter escaped him, which drew Pappy's gaze away from his goggles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at the scene outside. The pair of mechanics were in such a hurry that they didn't even bother stopping for the duration of their conversation, still calling to each other over their shoulders as they went their separate ways. As Frankie passed, she noticed Rosie up in the cockpit and offered a wave, her bright, energised grin a far cry from the tired smiles she had offered him the first time they'd met. Sweat beading on her brow in the morning sun, she was practically glowing.

Rosie raised his hand to reciprocate with a shy wave of his own, watching his co-pilot in his peripherals as Pappy craned further forward still to watch her disappear from view around the side of their plane.

"D'ya think her and Egan are a thing?" The man asked. Rosie turned pointedly to look at him, raised brow tilting the rim of his hat.

"A thing?"

"Yeah. Yunno. Together, n' all. Nash told me some of the fellas have been takin' bets, apparently they sang a duet at one of them shindigs a while back."

"You fellas talkin' about the mechanic and Major Egan?" Nash's voice piped up, his head suddenly appearing through the gap between their seats. "Oh yeah, that's definitely happenin'."

Rosie gave Nash a playful shove, forcing him back out of the cockpit. "That is not happening, I promise. Have you even met her?"

Pappy raised a brow. "Have you?"

He paused for a long moment. "... Once. But it was enough to know that is not what's going on there."

"If you say so," His co-pilot shrugged, far from wholly convinced, returning to attempting to clean the mark from his goggles.

"It's a scratch, Pappy, you can't wipe it off."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie had been running inventory when the planes began to roll back in, tallying up what they had and in what quantities, writing up a list of things they needed to pass on to the higher ups. She stuck her head out of the hut, clinging to the doorframe as she counted the forts passing overhead, the list of supplies becoming crumpled as she shoved it into her pocket, rushing for the hardstand.

"Thirteen," She muttered, calling the number again as she spotted Lemmons. "Thirteen?"

"I counted the same," He confirmed, the colour drained from his face as they tossed their tools into the back of one of the jeeps. Climbing into the passenger seat, Frankie reached over and pressed the back of her palm against Ken's forehead, the younger mechanic batting her away as he tugged on the handbrake.

"No Cleven?" It didn't take a fool to figure out what had shaken Lemmons so fiercely. She had been in full support of his last-ditch effort to repair Cleven's engine, but it had been a makeshift move at best. If his plane had gone down, mechanical failure was far from out of the question.

"No," Ken shook his head, a slight tremor in his voice. "No Cleven."

How the hell were they going to break it to Bucky?

They'd certainly seen forts return in worse shape than this, although Frankie scarcely dared to imagine what state those that hadn't returned had ended up in. The mental image she had created of Curtis Biddick's final moments replayed in her mind, and it was near impossible to fathom the weight of that fear multiplied by the number of men they had lost. Frankie and Lemmons had split up near the interrogation huts, the creased list of supplies clutched in her grip as she slid out of her seat, promising to catch him up once her business was done.

Crowds of disoriented-looking soldiers made their way towards the Red Cross' hut, hopeful hands open and waiting to receive a cup of coffee or a bite to eat as a meagre reward for their feats. As much as she longed to search for familiar faces in the crowd, Frankie found she had more pressing issues at hand - she didn't quite know who to pass on her list to, let alone where to find them, but the longer the mechanics went without adequate supplies, the more forts would be out of commission when it really counted.

Entering through the side door, her gaze scanned the room, landing on the first man she saw with a high-ranking insignia. Squeezing her way through the exhausted men who filled the place like bewildered sardines, she emerged beside the man, pressing the paper into his hand before he even had a chance to register her arrival. Turning his head to her, he looked almost offended by Frankie's presence.

"Supply orders for the mechanics, pass it up to whoever's in charge," She nodded firmly.

The officer shook his head, spluttering slightly. "I don't have time to deal with your shopping list, we've got-"

"No one ever has time for it, but suddenly it's my bloody fault when half of your planes don't fly because we don't have the fucking rivets - take it."

His mouth hung open, but she didn't bother waiting for him to formulate a response, vanishing as soon as she had appeared. Just as Frankie was about to leave again, she caught sight of Rosie among the returning pilots, a weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A smile spreading across her expression, she was about to call out to him, when Helen - one of the Red Cross volunteers she had grown somewhat acquainted with - crossed the room between them, the Captain's gaze following her without ever noticing Frankie, moving to follow out through the side door.

Frankie's jaw snapped shut, and she nodded to herself, continuing to make her way outside. It made sense when she thought about it. Helen was a nice girl - pretty - she was sure she'd seen almost half of the 100th ogling her at some point by now. Everyone needed someone to come back for.

They were talking on the edge of the grass as she left, and Frankie kept her gaze purposely averted, glancing down at her hands, which were already dirty. Helen probably never had filthy hands. She kept walking.

"Frankie!" A familiar voice called with its American lilt, and she turned, brow raised. Rosie was jogging up behind her, exhaustion tugging at his features, sweat-soaked curls sticking up at various angles like a startled bird.

"Hi."

He let out a huff as he caught his breath, mouth open to speak for a few seconds before he was actually able to find the words. "H-... Hi."

"You alright?" She asked slowly, gesturing to Helen, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her, the tiredness in his eyes washed out by pure relief.

Rosie followed her gaze, brow furrowing as he nodded. "Nash didn't make it. Him and Helen they were... they were close."

Suddenly Frankie felt so deeply, horrendously stupid that she was almost nauseous. "Jesus. Oh, I'm sorry, I just- I'm really sorry, Rosie."

He shook his head slightly, and she could almost hear his voice telling her not to apologise again. "He was a good kid. Are you ok?"

"Me? Yeah, yeah, I'm ok - shit, all I do is sit around and wait for the action to be over." As she spoke, Rosie's expression grew more and more concerned, and she could tell exactly what he was thinking.

"... Have they told you about-?"

"Cleven? ...Yeah. Ken's really beating himself up about it, I just don't know how they're gonna tell Bucky."

He frowned, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Sucking in a deep breath, Rosie reached into his pocket, retrieving a slightly squished Red Cross doughnut that he'd wrapped in a napkin. He held it out to her.

Frankie's eyes widened slightly at the offering. "Oh! Oh, no, it's yours, I couldn't. My hands are dirty anyway."

"Who cares? I smell like I just crawled out of a donkey's ass," Rosie joked, and she let out a chuckle as he tore the doughnut in two, holding out the bigger half to her. She felt her cheeks warming up, and prayed the flush wasn't noticeable as she accepted his offering.

It was.

Rosie hid his smile behind the hand he raised to his mouth as he chewed, savouring the taste of sugar on his tongue as it soothed the hoarseness in his throat. "Hope we haven't left you with too big a mess to clean up," He said, brushing the powdered sugar from his fingertips.

Frankie screwed up her face, shaking her head as she finished chewing. "Nah, I've seen much worse. Glad you're back, s'all. Might actually get to bed at a sane time tonight, wouldn't that be something?" She grinned, and he found himself momentarily sidetracked by the smear of sugar that streaked her lip until she wiped it away, his thoughts once again coherent.

"It sure would be."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rosie couldn't sleep. It was almost ten o'clock - barely late enough to class his sudden insomnia as problematic - but he found he simply had nothing else to do. As long as he was awake, the guilt of what happened to Nash, the guilt of simply making it back alive, tugged at him like a deadweight, and he was yet to find a pastime that worked as a sufficient distraction. His hope had been that an early night and a deep sleep would wipe his mind clear, or at least give him a few hours of peace.

But alas, it was not to be. Sitting up on the edge of his mattress, feet pressed against the cool floor, the idea of simply waiting for sleep to come, of drowning in his own thoughts until it did, seemed less and less appealing by the second. He got up, tugging on a jacket and some more socially acceptable trousers, and ducking out into the night air, the cool breeze hitting him as his curls blew back and forth.

It was quiet outside. Usually, on nights like this, you could barely walk ten feet without encountering a drunken airman staggering back from the pub, but it seemed the day's mission had soured everyone's spirits. With his hands in his pockets, Rosie strolled down the middle of the road, glancing at each Nissen hut as he passed, silently taking in his surroundings as a welcome distraction.

As he neared the women's huts, he spied another figure coming the other way, her blue uniform skirt swaying with each step, glowing embers dropping off the end of her cigarette as she tapped the ashes away. He was about to ignore her, when she called out. "Oi!" Brow raised, Rosie met the woman's gaze as she strode towards him, taking a final drag of her cigarette before tossing it into a nearby puddle. "You're Captain Rosenthal, right?"

He spluttered for a moment, taken aback. "Uh, yes ma'am."

The woman held out her hand, a smile parting her lipstick-red lips. "George Aarons. I'm Frankie's best friend, she's told me about you."

Suddenly it made sense. But wait - 'she's told me about you'? "Oh. Yes, hello," Rosie nodded, shaking her hand. "I think she has mentioned you."

George's brow furrowed, smirking. "She'd better have. If you're looking for her, she's still working on the hardstand," She added, beginning to continue her walk back to her hut.

He almost rolled his eyes. Of course she was. "Thank you, goodnight."

They had both begun to go their separate ways when her voice rang out in the darkness again. "Poppies."

Rosie turned, expression contorted in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Poppies," George repeated. "They're her favourite."

The corner of his mouth raised in a smile as he shoved his cold hands back into his pockets, beginning to stray towards the airstrip without even noticing.

He had only just made it to the runway, gaze scanning the dark horizon for any signs of life, when the road up ahead seemed to burst into flames, a roaring wall of red rising from nowhere. Rosie frowned, dashing forward, almost out of breath by the time he arrived, slowing gradually to a halt as he took in the scene before him.

The tarmac was indeed alight, the fire burning bright and high, but there was Frankie, sitting about fifteen metres away from the blaze in one of the rickety chairs from the mechanics' hut, a tartan blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Rosie paused for a moment, taking several breaths to calm his panicked heart before he spoke. "So much for an early night."

She looked up at him, face bathed in the orange glow. She had barely reacted to his arrival, almost as if she'd been expecting him. "This is my last job for the night."

"What, arson?"

Frankie snorted. "No. I'm burning the oil off the runway - it's the best way to get rid of it all, you don't want it all over the place when the planes come in next time, otherwise-" She made a booming sound, imitating an explosion with her hands.

Rosie nodded, gaze cutting sharply between her and the inferno still burning away, the smell of fuel thick in the air. "So this is... this is all good?"

"I'm definitely not about to burn to death, if that's what you're asking."

He realised it was, and it made him feel a little stupid.

"There's more chairs inside," She added, gesturing to the nearby hut. "You can stay if you want."

Rosie's lack of sleep seemed a foregone conclusion by now, so he obliged, heading inside and collecting the chair with the least amount of wobbly legs and bringing it back to where she sat, maintaining a polite gap between them as he sat down.

The burning oil truly did stink, but the longer he sat there, the fire became quite beautiful, really. It was silent for a long time, nothing but the sound of the wind filling the air. Sometimes when it dropped, he could hear her breathing over the whoosh of the flames, but the sudden scraping of chair legs against tarmac tore through the quiet altogether.

"Can see you shivering from over there," She muttered, dragging her chair to close the gap between them, and Rosie realised he was still cold. He had managed to trick himself, to accept the fire's illusion of warmth, but in reality, his jaw had begun to chatter.

Frankie's blanket was huge - folded twice over just so that it wouldn't drag against the ground - and as she stood up he watched her unfurl it, the outline of her body silhouetted by the flames' light. She held out one corner to him, the opposite end firmly in her grip, and as she sat back down the fabric encircled them both, bracketing them together as he was warmed by both the blanket and her shoulder pressed against his.

Her hands remained firmly in her lap, clasped together as she fiddled with the blanket's fraying hem, gaze unmoving as it remained firmly planted on the blaze in front of them. Rosie stared at her face in profile for a moment, unable to suppress his smirk as he leaned back against his seat, just letting the moment be.

"I met George on the way over," He said quietly. Frankie seemed to light up at this, suddenly grinning as she looked up at him.

"You did?!" She beamed, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, yeah - she's nice."

"She is the best person in the entire world," Frankie asserted, nodding as if it were a universally acknowledged fact.

Rosie smiled back at her, letting himself lean back against her as she put her weight on his shoulder. "Y'know, I didn't know you could sing."

She scoffed loudly, throwing her head back in a laugh. "Now who the hell told you that?"

"Pappy said you sang with Egan at one of those parties."

Frankie wagged her finger as she spoke, so close to his face that he almost went cross-eyed from watching it. "Just because I did it, doesn't mean it was good."

He chuckled, their foreheads almost touching when he momentarily leant forward. "Alright, point taken."

"If there is one thing I do not have, it's musicality," She grinned. "I just make up for it with my myriad of other talents."

"And I would love to see those someday," Rosie teased, gasping mockingly as she thumped him in the shoulder. Without realising, they had both almost doubled over in their seats, practically cheek-to-cheek as their laughs echoed into the night air. He felt like he was drunk, although it had been days since he'd taken even a sip of alcohol. The stench of oil in the air had begun to subside, and looking up, they both realised the fire had almost wholly burnt itself out.

"Well, shit," Frankie murmured, her breath forming a cloud in front of her face as the temperature seemed to drop instantly, the air turning freezing as the last flame died. She shrugged her corner of the blanket away, rising to her feet, and for a second Rosie felt the urge to reach out and grab her wrist, tug her back down beside him. "Come on," She sighed. "You might have to fly tomorrow, I don't want you exhausted on my account."

He smiled gently at this, letting the blanket drape across his shoulders as he stood, picking up both chairs before she got the chance to take her own. Rolling her eyes, Frankie followed him to the mechanics' hut, keys jangling as she locked the door once everything had been stowed safely inside.

They walked side by side in the dark for a long while, nothing but the occasional barn owl overhead piercing the quiet. A new thought had begun to plague Rosie's mind, and he rolled it around in his head like a marble until he knew it needed to be released.

"Why do you do it?" He asked. She looked at him questioningly. "I mean, all the rest of the ground crew left hours ago, they always do, but you're always here. You must barely sleep, I don't get it."

Frankie frowned for a moment, and then shrugged. "The rest of the ground crew are Americans. It's different for us. Of course, everyone’s got skin in the game these days, but it is different. I mean, before the war I’d never even left Warwickshire, but they destroyed half of Coventry in one night - people walked with their kids and their bags to the closest town ‘cause their homes were just gone. Half the boys I grew up working the garage with are dead now. They joined up and now they’re never coming back... And almost anyone you ask around here has some link to someone who lost a home or died in the bombing raids. That’s why we’ll get up at the crack of dawn and work into the night, ‘cause we’re fighting for our homes.”

Rosie considered this for a while. There was nothing he could say to that. In fact, he felt rather silly for asking in the first place now. He'd joined up because he hated the Nazis - he hated what they stood for and what they believed in, and he wanted them gone. But they couldn't get him, not in his home. They couldn't touch his family. But the same just couldn't be said for people like Frankie. Every job they did, every hour they put in, it was all to maintain that desperate last line of defence, to protect the people they loved.

War was hell. War was fear. But it wasn't that kind of fear, not for Rosie.

He had been so deep in thought that he scarcely noticed when they arrived at the end of Frankie's row of Nissen huts, his footsteps following alongside hers without even thinking about it. Looking up from the ground, his eyes widened as he took in his surroundings for a second, barely a light left on as everyone else tried to sleep off the trying day.

"If I keep walking you to your door like this people are gonna start to talk," Rosie pointed out before he could stop himself.

Frankie shrugged, turning to face him as she began to walk backwards towards her hut, her hand skimming against his arm one last time. "I'd much rather they talk about you than Bucky," She grinned.

The place where her fingers had touched his arm seemed to tingle, and even through his jacket it was as if he could still feel her there, stuck frozen for a moment, mouth hanging open as his mind flailed to come up with anything to say to that. Nothing came to him. As she returned to her hut, he found he could offer nothing but an awkward wave, her giggle echoing in the night air as she waved back, disappearing through the opening in the door.

Rosie just stood there for a moment, passing his weight from foot to foot as he waited for his thoughts to slow down to an intelligible speed. He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. He was a pilot, a damn good one - he faced death every day and it never rattled him, not once.

So what the fuck was this.

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

[jennapancake]

Love Made Me Crazy

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Part 1 of 2

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, Reader is referred to as y/n and as female, kissing, implications of death, not proof-read.

Summary: Aphrodite children are required to break their first loves heart in order to avoid tragedy. What happens when reader breaks luke castellans heart in order to save him when he's already on the edge.

A/n: Hi this is my first time ever writing so please be nice. I'm trying my best. Thank you for reading!

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The tears poured as I stared at the lake in front of me. The inability to determine if it were the sobs that raked my body or the cold night air causing me to shiver as I prayed to the goddess I knew to be my mother. I prayed for her to spare me from this "initiation" as she calls it. To spare me from having to break my best friends heart in order to save him and myself.

Luke had been my best friend since the day I set foot in camp. It was 5 years ago. Luke had arrived not long before me, but he still chose to show me around camp. The boy and I became close after that and even closer when the two of us continued to stay in the Hermes cabin as his father claimed him and my godly parent refused to be asserted with me in any way. The comfort shared between us both was hardly unnoticed but it drew our bond close.

And yet now, I have to break this bond we share due to some horrible rule my mother has set for her children. The same rule she set for me, the child she ignored for almost a year after I set foot in this camp.

"Please mom just this once favor me and my choices and allow me to avoid breaking both his heart and mine. Allow me to stay with him without the consequences please." I'd been sobbing prayers like this since the sun set. I knew it was useless. I knew I wouldn't get a response and even if I did it would never be in my favor.

"y/n?" I don't know how long it had been since I strayed from my siblings at dinner to sit here but I knew it had been hours as Drew came up behind me. "Are you okay?" The girl asked, a gentle hand on my shoulder as she sat next to me.

"I'm okay" I nodded, quickly wiping the tears that stained my cheeks. "Just admiring the lake and some alone time ya know?" I let out a fake laugh that sounded almost like a sob as I turned to look at the girl.

"It's about the rule, isn't it?" She asked, a sympathetic look clouding her beautiful features. I nodded in response to which she pulled me close. "It'll be okay. I know you love him but it's better than meeting a horrific end." She says and I know she's right and I know I have to do it soon. "Silena and I will be there to help you through it too. We won't let you go through this alone."

"I know. Its just hard knowing we have to end just because of some stupid rule my mother made. Just another reason why for our parents to dictate our lives." I sniffled and she nodded, combing her fingers through my hair to calm me.

"I understand, love. Its just another reason why our parents won't be winning any parent of the Year awards. However I'd rather you get both your hearts broke than lose you to a Shakespearean level tragic ending." She says, the eye roll evident in her tone as she says the last few words.

I know she's been through this before with other siblings. But even if love doesn't kill me how does she know the next quest won't.

"I just want you to be happy and alive. You'll find other men who will love you, you're a daughter of Aphrodite after all."

But I don't want anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning....

I had made up my mind or at least I thought I had stopped by training to see Luke before breakfast and his counselor duties.

"Luke!" I called a smile on my face. I had decided to risk it all. I was in love and nothing could break us apart, not after three years pining after each other and almost a full year together. I was not letting us go.

Luke smiled at me, telling his class to take a break as he ran over to me. Except right before he got to me an Apollo kid was disarmed and the blade of his sword was mere inches from Luke's head, landing right in front of my feet.

The smile draining from my face as I wondered if this was a coincidence. I know I was told there was little time left before an ending began to appear but was it really starting now. Were these the warning signs?

I pushed those thoughts away as the boy came closer after scolding the kids. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, grabbing both my cheeks gently and giving me a worried look as he checked me for any injuries.

"I'm fine," I gave him a reassuring smile "I should be the one asking if you're okay. That sword almost took your head off." I gestured to the sword with my head as the boy chuckled.

"Yeah, Apollo kids aren't the best with swords." He joked but shook his head, "but I'm all good. Especially now that I get to see you." He smirked before pulling me into a kiss.

That was only the first straw in one big hay barrel that was today. Throughout the day, I almost drowned, Luke almost got run over by a group of centaurs, I almost got shot by archers since no one told me they moved the archery field, and Luke almost fell into the rack of spears.

And all of this happened before lunch.

"Silena you don't understand. I thought it'd be okay if we stayed together but everything is falling apart today. Luke and I have been in so many dangerous positions today it's insane." I practically yelled as the girl brushed my hair.

"Are you sure you're not overthinking everything? It was a rough night for you. Maybe you're just seeing the everyday dangers more today?" Silena was always the voice of reason but I knew it was just excuses to comfort me.

Silena never wanted Luke and me to break up. As she put it we were her best accomplishment and the cutest couple at camp, all thanks to her help for finally getting us together.

"Sil, you and I both know it's starting. I can't lose him cause of my own selfishness. I'm gonna have to break up with him." I say, tears filling my eyes at the thought.

"or you could tell him the truth and let him decide your fate?" She shrugs and I shake my head.

"I know what he'll choose and I can't do that to him. I can't let him decide to be with me when it'll result in the end for both of us."

My mind was made up.

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Luke and I were sat on the docks, the cool breeze of the night blowing between us as we stared at the star in silence, until Luke spoke up and the end began.

"So what did you want to talk about that was so important?" He asked, a small smile on his face as he glanced at me, the hand he was holding between us, squeezed mine tightly until I forced myself to pull it from his hold.

"oh uh, Luke I don't know how to say this.." I sighed as I played with my camp necklace to comfort myself as I spoke to the boy in front of me.

"Hey it's okay. " The boy reached out the touch my arm "Whatever it is we'll get through it together." He smiled gently which only caused my heart to ache more.

I shook my head and stood up quickly in order to look away from the boy and take my chance to pace on the dock as I do the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

And that's saying a lot seeing as a fought two minotaurs at once.

"Luke we need to break up." I said as quickly as possible, knowing if I didn't blurt it out the words would never come.

"woah what?" The boy quickly stood to come over to me "y/n what do you mean we need to?"

"I mean we can't be together anymore, Luke." I said, tears forming in my eyes as I look up at him.

"Why? I thought we were doing good. Whatever it is we can work through it. Just talk to me. Why so suddenly are you saying this?" Luke asks, tears filling his water line and I shake my head.

"This isn't something we can get out of, Luke. This is something we have to go through in order for me to protect you. I'm sorry, Luke."

And so I ran in order to avoid any more questions, in order to avoid changing my mind, in order to protect the boy I was crazy in love with.

I would have risked my life for him if it meant getting to stay with him for all eternity but I couldn't bring myself to risk his life for a life on the run from a never ending tragedy.

If only I wasn't an Aphrodite Kid....

End of Part 1.

Next part will be Luke's POV and where more of a dark Luke esc will come in and as well as the aftermath of the moment. Again thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[apas-95]

The sun's cold glare reflected from overwhite snow on the border plateau, and the girl from the peasant commune panted.

Her head was thick and dazed. She gulped down lungfuls of the thin mountain air, which seemed to rest on the plateau like a fog, barely rising towards the sky before dissipating.

She and the other girls were crouched down on one knee, huddled together in a line. The leader, in her brilliant-yellow coat, shuffled back and forth in front of them. Behind her rose tall, black mountaintops on either side, and a gray, rocky basin slung between them. Shimmering, barely-visible, distant figures stood far opposite them in the valley.

The girl's hand rested against the leatherbound handle of a knife strapped to her chest. Before the eight-day patrol set out, they were informed by the political commisar (an educated woman from the city) about the precarious international situation, about the national policy of 'two impositions', and then told to leave their rifles at the outpost. Each of them carried only their utility blade. It had a notch at one side for stripping electrical-wires, and a serration at the base for cutting ropes. The oil they were meant to wipe them down with had frozen into a thin film of dust on the bare metal.

They had sat in the basin for hours. The border outpost, they had only occupied for a week. The imperial soldiers had abandoned it months ago when their General was encircled and routed. Them, the girls of the Revolutionary Frontier Alpinist Rifle Section №502 had been sent by this basin after aerial photography had noticed movement further down the pass. Now, they noticed movement again.

The figures in the valley had further defined themselves, grown larger. Through haze, the puffy brown coats of the Matist infanterie dragoons took shape. Distant, warped, the rattle of swords in scabbards came as they walked.

"At arms!" the leader yelled. With frozen hands, the girls all drew their blades. None stood.

Slowly, practiced, the dragoons withdrew their sabres, letting the steel ring acoustic as they raised them.

With her other hand, the leader took her cold metal whistle and sat it between her lips. The girls huffed battle-breaths on the beat of 2-5-6-8, 2-5-6-8, --

Far away, on distant mountaintops, a shrill call could be heard from the yellow-coated creature down in the valley. A small rodent that ventured from its burrow quickly returned to ground. When, calmed, it poked its nose out again, a dozen people lay gurgling, slashed to ribbons, and the now-quiet creature was tinged a deep, dark red, with only splashes of the brilliant yellow shining through.