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sirenedusud · 1 year

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*nsfw* to starboard (shanks x reader)

AN: all i can say is GAW DAMN i am a depraved slut for this man. where my depraved girlies at. proceed with caution: just smut

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Your crew prepared to dock as the distance between the island and your ship shrank, windmills on the terrain growing larger and larger. You're standing on the main deck, hands on your hips as you inspect your crew bustling about. They're a loyal lot, you helped most of them escape worse situations, therefore they feel indebted to you. Yes, you were a pirate with a sun-bleached black ship and a hefty bounty on your head, but you led a life of ease.

You weren't too worried about looking over your shoulder, or becoming the biggest and baddest in the East Blue, as long as you could feel the wind brushing through your hair and the sun kissing your skin you were happy. That didn't mean you never indulged in the pleasures of this world though. You had a little more than a collection of fancy shotguns in your cabin, one would even call it an armory for the Marines; and you had a notorious romantic streak across the sea. You didn't mean to break a few hearts here and there, but you simply got bored after a while and needed to run off once again. Some flings came back though, begging for more.

"Raise ALL THE SAILS ya rat!" Your first mate yells at the new boy. You smile and begin to intervene, but come to an abrupt stop. A ship with red masts sails by to your right. You turn to face the passing ship, your hand finding the rigging to steady yourself as your eyes scan it's entire deck. Finally, you lock eyes with the captain who had already been looking at you. Red-Haired Shanks. He was elated to see you and you knew it, but you didn't betray any emotion on your own face. The two of you mirror each other, slowly pacing towards the back of the deck. Your ships were no longer facing side to side by the time you reached the quarter deck. Shanks' seemed anxious that this would be the end of it, that was until you turned to make sure no one was watching you on board.

You turn your back to your crew to look at him once again and prop your foot up on the cannon in front of you, hiking up your skirt to reveal a leg. You hold your skirt up to your mid thigh, only enough to reveal a frilly garter. Your little show was heaven sent. Shanks' eyes widen and he fervently yells something unintelligible, his crew answering back. You drop your leg down and walk back to the main deck, a smile threatening to tear your face. Your ship finally docks and you wait for someone to drop a ladder for you to get on the harbor. You glance back at Red Hair's ship, and sure enough it was reeling so hard to the right that it was threatening to tip over. Some people on the harbor watch in confusion as the ship's hull is almost fully exposed in the dramatic turn, then carry back on to their business once the ship was set back straight towards the docks.

"Whaddya think that's all about cap'n?" Your navigator asks you, her eyebrow cocked as she looks back and forth between you and Shanks' ship.

"I wouldn't know," you coyly reply, and begin your descent to the port. You jump off the ladder and smooth down your skirt. Suddenly you become worried about your appearance: was your skin as smooth as it used to be, did you smell like a sea dog, was your corset tight enough, was your hair in place? What were you doing? You weren't the eager one in these moments, but seeing Shanks excited you. Some of your crew work to tie down the ship, others walk to the nearest pub. You stand a moment longer by your ship, droplets of sweat beginning to form at your bandana. Then, his ship is anchored down once again a couple docks away from you, and you begin your leisurely walk down the port. As you make it down the boardwalk, you catch a glint of red in your peripherals. Butterflies swarm within your lower belly. Shanks on the other hand is half running to meet you in the middle, slowing down once he's mere feet behind you.

The town is bustling with people, yet they remain unaware of the electricity sparking between the two of you. You only give Shanks a small turn of your head and smile, and continue walking a little slower, not looking back at him. He follows behind you, his hand reaches for yours. Your fingers graze against each other in a dance of their own. You're unaware of the compass within your own body (your pussy) guiding Shanks to a small inn. You carry on in trance as you enter the parlor, receive a room key, and lead him upstairs. As the two of you stand in the poorly lit narrow hall, Shanks pulls you back down to earth the moment he grabs your hips and pushes his into your ass. You turn the key quicker at the feel of his hardening cock.

"It's been too long darling," He whispers onto the skin of your neck, "I've missed you so much." He keeps whispering sweet nothings until the door clicks opens and you're both inside. Shanks shoves you back into the door, not giving you a moment to react after. Your back is pressed onto the hard wood but you don't care. Shanks' lips find yours and you're both kissing in an urgency you didn't realize you were holding back. He nips your lower lip softly, asking permission, and you let him slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan into the kiss, causing Shanks' to buck his hips into yours. His hand rakes down from your clavicle to your breast and further down to your waist. Hand? You break away from the kiss with a small push to his chest and yelp at his missing arm, hitting your head on the door behind you.

"Fucking hell Shanks, how'd this happen??" You rip his cape off to reveal the empty sleeve and look up at him, gaping. Shanks only sighs, whispering something under his breath and uses his only hand to reach for yours. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, you look down at it and back up, giving him a quizzical look. He leads you to the small bed and sits you down. He tells you what had happened only days ago on this same island. You find yourself snapping your hands up to wipe the unwanted tears pricking through your lashes. Shanks clicks his tongue.

"It's just an arm love, don't sully your pretty face over it," Shanks gently pries one of your hands from your face and kisses your tears away, whispering a "please" between the kisses. His mouth finds yours once again and you relax into him. Heat rises between your bodies and you're pulling his face into yours. He quickly releases you to remove his straw hat, tossing it to the side before he returns to your lips. Things grow sloppier, Shanks let's go of your lips to latch onto your neck, leaving a trail of purple blooms where his teeth nip and pull out faint cries from you as he sucks on the most sensitive spot. In your daze you hear Shanks unbuckling his belt and tossing it across the room. His hand becomes frantic as they begin to tug between your corset and his own shirt, so you stop him. Shanks eyes glint with confusion, but you only smile at him as you reach for his clothes. You gently pull his shirt out of his waistband and over his torso, he complies and crooks his neck forward to let you pull it off over his head. You then get up from the bed and kneel in front of him. His eyes say something different now, you cannot quite tell what though.

Something had possessed you in that moment. Here you were gently prying Shanks' boots off, pulling his trousers down and over his ankles. Once you finish undressing him he reaches for you again, but you push his hand away and stand before him. Slowly yet not so much, you unlace your corset and drop it to the floor, unclasp your leather belt with its pistols hanging on either side, and push your skirt down as well. Shanks' already hard cock twitches at every piece of cloth you remove. You finally remove the flimsy chemise and bloomers (a pirate didn't need ten other extra undergarments). You reach for the garter on your thigh but Shanks raises his hand.

"Keep that on" he says, his voice slightly hoarse with pent up desire. He reaches for it and pulls you in between his legs, your hands find their place on his shoulders. His hot breath hits your stomach, causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He looks up at you with blown out pupils. You both remain still for a moment. The spell breaks and he pulls you down into his lap in the middle of the bed. You whimper at the sudden sensation of his cock against your clit, and you grind onto him to feel it again. His eyes threaten to roll back and he grabs your face down to kiss him once more, his hand then traveling down to your breast where he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck Shanks-" you begin but get cut off by his mouth latching onto your other nipple. His tongue swirls and sucks onto you and you let out a small whimper. Your hips push down towards his cock again but he doesn't let you sink down all the way, so you use a hand to stroke his glistening pink tip. His mouth becomes merciless as well as you tease him, and he finally releases both of your breasts to stop your hand and hold your hips still.

"Shanks please- fuck- please I want you so bad- I need you.." you spill out as you fail to make contact with his skin again. He only smiles and softens his grip.

"So have me,” he says. You blank for a moment, then use one hand to line his cock with your aching core, and slowly go down on him. He's too big. You let out something between a moan and gasp as you slowly push him back out and in again. Shanks is struggling to hold himself together too, letting out shaky moans of your name. After a few slow attempts, you seat yourself fully onto his cock. The stretch makes your head buzz and you rock back and forth, stirring obscenities out of the both of you.

"Fuck-ck you're so tight...hhh you're so..fuck..wet- listen to how fucking wet you are for me" Shanks half mutters half groans as you ride him with a quicker pace. You have one hand on his shoulder and another on his thigh to stop yourself from toppling over. His own hand is holding you by the hip, attempting to guide you to bounce harder onto him. He grows impatient and suddenly between your own strokes, Shanks fucks up into you, causing you to moan out a string of curses. His eyes turn obsidian at the sight of you over his body. He grabs your waist and pulls you against his body as he lies down, his cock still inside you. Your cheek is pressed into his chest and before you protest, Shanks snaps his hips upwards into you causing you to muffle a yelp with your fist. He continues to fuck you for what felt like eternity, driving his cock so far into you at this angle you begin to see stars. His one arm keeps you mercilessly pinned to his body as his tip presses against your g-spot repeatedly, sending waves of electricity throughout your nerves.

"Shanks I'm gon- I'm gonna cum- FUCK" you hardly finish speaking before that delicious feeling shoots through from your core, to your stomach, and into your brain. Your thighs quiver aggressively around him and Shanks let's out a soft groan as his own orgasm erupts out of him. You feel your cunt turning warm, filling with his cum as his strokes lose their rhythm. His arm loosens around you, finding your hair and brushing it. You try to slide off of him, but he keeps you there.

"I'm not letting you get away from me this time," Shanks murmurs into your hair, pressing kisses where he spoke. He knew you didn't like sticking around. He knew you were afraid of getting attached only to possibly get hurt. He knew the last time you had seen him you were dangerously close to leaving everything for him, causing you to live this avoidant lifestyle. You push yourself from his chest and roll off of him, failing to give him your strict glare once you turn back at him. His eyes beg for you to stay, pleading with love he's been desperate to show you. His hand reaches for yours, grasping it with a firmness that feared you'd fly away again.

"I know you feel the same, I know you use others to forget about me.”

"God Shanks you lost your fucking arm in the blink of an eye. What if it's your lift next-?”

"So why won't you take that risk?" He implores, desperation now filled his voice as he sat upright, "because I sure as bloody hell would do it for you. I love you!"

You stare at him in awe, your eyebrows overwork themselves as your mind tosses around in anxiety. Was now the time to be fickle? His soft brown eyes glisten in a way you had never witnessed before, causing your heart to succumb to affections you stifled for so long.

"I love you too..." you answer quietly. You betray your own code. Fuck it if it meant ceasing the pain in Shanks eyes at that moment, and from that moment onward. The two of you sit there in tranquility. You and Shanks exchange shy smiles, your gazes bear their deepest desires into one another as the setting sun sets the two of you in a halo of dappled gold through the stained window.

#one piece #shanks smut #shanks x reader #opla x reader #opla shanks #opla smut #red haired shanks #one piece live action

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 7 months

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You're my emergency contact.

König x reader.

Everything started with a simple favor and it all ended with your emergency contact accidentally attending your call.

(Give a ♥️ if you enjoyed it)

Warning: perhaps it is a very long and not good story, mentions of violence, as always grammatical and spelling errors.

📢 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You're König's neighbor, he's rarely at home so he asked you to keep an eye on his apartment, he gave you his number, just in case something happened.

- Danke, I Know I'm asking too much but I will give you my number, just... In case something happens, ja?

Your smile when he gives you his number In a piece of paper, he will never recover from that moment.

- For sure, it's not a problem, and thank you König I hope there's no need to use it for an emergency, I would prefer to use it in other circumstances.

-Ja, totally agree, well I have to go, thank you so much Schatz.

- Okay, have a nice trip König, see you!.

As soon as he left and you closed the door you started to jump with excitement, you finally had his number, you tried so hard for the last months to start a friendship with him and this is a big step for you.

But... What's next? You thought. After a few days you got an idea, you sent him a message.

«Hi König, I'm your neighbor, I forgot to give you my number, so here it is.»

An hour passed, two hours, four... Maybe it was a bad idea, then.

«Danke :D»

That's all? Well, at least he texted you back. You decided to not insist, maybe he was busy, another week passed, you really want to text him, why? Why do you want to be around him?

«captain's log: König's house is still safe, a package arrived at your door. :)»

You sent a selfie out of his door. A Risky move, you were getting nervous when you saw «seen» under the message.

«Hallo Schatz, danke for the notice, can you save the package at your house?, I'll pick it up when I arrive» «P.S. you look very pretty today ;)»

That was the beginning, for months you started to text each other. You send a lot of pictures about anything while he rarely sends you something, usually sunsets or just the sky. When he's at home you invite him to eat at your house or to drink a beer, you don't know yet but for König this is more than he expected, you and him are good together, jokes, loud laughs and a good conversation are always present when you're together, he's happy, he feels better with you, he feels affection for you.

- Well, this week I won't be at home for a few days, I hope you don't mind.

- What? Nein! Don't worry, I won't be at home either, I have some work, just a few days.

- ahh well maybe we will arrive home at the same time!

- ja! It would be a coincidence, a good one. Where will you go?

- Oh, my Mom's house, I'll visit her for a few days, my flight is this Wednesday, and I'll be back on Monday.

- Ah that's really nice, I hope you have a nice moment with her.

(...)

You're ready to take your flight, you were just waiting, when a group of armed men appeared.

- okay everybody, lay on the floor! We will not harm you if you obey!

Some people started to run, others screamed, the sound of shotguns...

The same man was shooting, while the rest of his companions were capturing people, you were on the floor, you took your phone and pressed the quick "emergency button" an old app your mother made you download just in case you needed, you knew it was useless because you and your mother lived far from each other, but after König gave you his number you added him on the emergency contacts list.

König was on his way to a mission when he Received a text. Your app sent a message with your location, an audio and a short video of what the camera phone could record, in those 15 seconds a man was yelling at you and others.

He opened it and saw that your location was the same as where he was going, he froze when he saw you were a hostage, the biggest fear, rage and desire to protect you grew inside him.

He and his team arrived, but they couldn't access the place easily, every door had a bomb, they didn't know if those were real or false but they couldn't take the risk, they started to plan and work.

You and the other hostages were on the floor, the group of men were kicking, yelling and hitting you, one of them was enjoying hurting you, taller than you and corpulent, you couldn't do much to protect yourself, he made you stand up pulling you by the hair, you yelped and asked him to stop.

- Sit this one in that chair, we're going to start the show.

You were sitting, you looked like a scared puppy, why you? What will they do to you? Why are they doing all this? What they want?. One of the men started to record everything, while another was talking and showing a photograph of a criminal.

- (...) Yeah, so we have hostages here, innocent people who are in serious danger, if you don't let this man free, we will start to torture and kill everybody in this place, we have bombs everywhere, don't be stupid and don't try to send cops or any kind of shitty government deal maker, those are our conditions.

Both men walked to you, while the guy who initially selected you to be tortured was ready to play his twisted game, he made you stand up from that chair.

- This pretty one is the first, we need an answer in 15 min or this one will be dead soon. Let's start...

You looked at all of them, scared, begging them to not do it, a knife cutting deep your thighs, a punch on your eye, your nose and mouth were bleeding, your ribs broken, you were crying, yelling because of the pain, one of them was ready to stab you when a big man dressed in black shoot at him, a clean headshot, you fell on the floor while all the men started to run, shoot and fight, you saw more people in black joining to the fight, you can't focus your view, you can't see clearly, you're fainting, you saw this big guy approaching, you can't see his face, he's wearing a black mask or something, he's talking to you but you can't hear him well.

- Schatz! Look at me, stay with us! Do you hear me?

Schatz? You remember that word, but... Where? Who? You're exhausted, your body aches, you're probably hallucinating.

«Hey! Prepare an ambulance!» you hear him yell at someone else then he carried you in his arms, this strange blurry guy in black saved you, you rested your head in his chest, you're feeling sleepy.

- Schatz, Mein Liebling, stay awake, I'm taking you to the ambulance, you will be fine, ja?

You didn't listen to him anymore, you closed your eyes, you just had flashbacks of the trip In the ambulance but that was all.

After two days you finally opened your eyes. There's a white lamp in the ceiling, the smell of medicine and sickness, a hospital? Were you alive?

You tried to sit but the pain in your ribs prevented you and a familiar voice filled the silence of the room.

- Hey, easy Schatz, you're fine, you're in the hospital.

There he was, König was in a chair close to you, he looked tired, and... Was he wearing black? What's going on?

- König? What... What's going on? What happened? Why are you here, what happened with your job?

He just let a small laugh out and handed you a glass of water.

- too many questions, drink some water first please, ja? You are in the hospital because you were hurt after the airport attack, I'm here because apparently I'm one of your emergency contacts... Schatz, Do you remember what happened in the airport?

You looked at him carefully, his voice, his clothes, and that word, «Schatz». Was he the one who saved you?

- I remember I was waiting to board the plane when those men appeared, then I... Well... You're my emergency contact, so I sent the emergency text, I remember those men hitting and hurting me and I remember the man who saved me, you probably will think I'm crazy but... That man looked pretty much like you... But he was covering his face with a mask or something.

He smiled nervously at you and hid his face with his hands.

- Was it you könig?

He looked at you once again and nodded in silence, the surprise in your face made him more nervous, he never told you about his job but you weren't expecting to find it out in this way.

- You never told me about your job...

You were playing with your hands and the glass, he was looking at his shoes, talking almost in a whisper.

- I can't talk about it... For your protection... And because it's better if you don't know how and who I am at work.

You don't want to make him feel as if you were angry or uncomfortable with it, you're just surprised, he looks too shy and kind to work in something like that.

- I understand... And I know it was really a coincidence and that you were just doing your job but... thanks for saving me.

He doesn't respond, he's still looking at his shoes. As if he was a little boy in trouble.

- König?

- Hmm?

- I won't ask you about your job, If you can't tell me about it, I'm fine with it... look at me Kö.

He finally looked at you, he looked sad or ashamed but you smiled at him and took his big hand on yours.

- Thank you for saving me. You're a good emergency contact.

You blinked your good eye at him, He smiled at you and kissed your hand.

- Just call and I'll be there Schatz.

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justmediocrewriting · 8 months

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Hi!! I don't know if your requests are open still, but could you do a luffy x reader fiction where she feels insecure sometimes at the fact that luffy didn't ask her to join the crew. The reader asked first out of desperation or excitement, and now sometimes wonders if she would have even been on the crew if she didn't approach first. And of course Luffy comforts her and makes her feel more secure about it.

Thank you!! 🦭

“Why wouldn’t I?” {m.d.l}

Summary: you’d never been one to second guess yourself — and you remained happy with your decision to ask the captain of the Straw Hats to take you on their seafaring journey — but in the last few days, you’d begun to feel more and more unsure of the decisions you’d made up until this point; namely because of the knowledge that Luffy had asked every other member of the crew to join, except you.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Luffy x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: ✅

Warnings: brief depictions of insecurity

A/n: thank you so much for your request nonnie! My requests are always open; though getting them out in a timely matter is another thing entirely. You know, when I’d first started this blog, I expected all of my works to be about Sanji, but I’ve been writing for Luffy more and more — and to be honest, I kinda really like it 🤭

{=================================}

The atmosphere in the galley was calm; Sanji had retired for the night, but was confident enough to leave Luffy under your supervision within the room, and you in turn had offered to wash the rest of the dishes for him — the man was clearly exhausted, and if you could take some weight off of him, you were more than happy to.

Luffy was currently devouring some extra lamb legs that Sanji had generously told him he could eat, and the silence in the room was companionable — but the confines of your mind were not. Despite the calmness, your brain was a whirlwind of negative and impulsive thoughts.

It had been roughly three weeks since you’d asked to join the Strawhats, and truthfully, you wondered just how wanted you were.

Your askance was brought upon by sheer excitement; your humble little village never saw much action, seeing as it was tucked away on an island that was small enough to be a pebble. It was both a good and a bad thing — your village was never raided by terrible pirates, but it was definitely a bore, and the quaint little bakery you owned offered services to the same exact faces every day.

That was until they arrived; the infamous Strawhats and their captain. You’d recognized them the minute they’d walked in. Luffy was the easiest to recognize, as you’d seen his face plastered in the news before, bearing an ungodly bounty of thirty million berry. To say you were nervous in his presence was an understatement; given what had been told of the pirate, of his crew and their atrocious actions, you weren’t sure what he’d do, or what his intentions were. You were on the defensive immediately, one hand dropping below the counter to wrap around the barrel of the shotgun in case you needed to draw it.

But Luffy had simply approached the counter and gazed excitedly at the array of sweets displayed behind the glass container; and when he met your eyes with a wide smile and asked for one of every pastry, you felt your heart melt — the rubbery man was just too adorable for his own good, and despite the rumors that had been spread across the seas of his viciousness, you couldn’t help but relax in his presence, his exuberant and innocent aura immediately washing away every bad thing you’d heard about him.

Hundreds of pastries later and many tells of their adventures on the sea, you had come to a conclusion; you would ask to join his crew, to sail the seas with him, and find the legendary treasure, One Piece.

You weren’t sure why, but all of his tales and his excitement bled into you, and your heart began beating rapidly as you were overcome by the urge to experience exactly what he had — you wanted to feel that freedom, that excitement of adventure. At first when you asked, you weren’t sure if he’d even say yes; after all, you were just a small time baker barely scraping by on poor rations, and you had no experience at sea or on a boat whatsoever, and upon first look you didn’t exactly scream pirate.

But then again, neither did a good number of the crew.

You’d set sail with them just the next morning, without so much as bidding goodbye to any of the other villagers — there were plenty of other bakeries within the village, if you weren’t there to sell bread and pastries the inhabitants could get them elsewhere easily. You didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about leaving your village behind, though as time went on, you began to feel guilty about asking to join; not because you regretted your decision, but because you couldn’t help but feel as though you had burdened the crew somehow.

With no real skills to offer, you’d resorted to helping out in any way you could; scrubbing the deck, washing the dishes, helping Sanji with prep, doing laundry, fishing, recording stock, and every other odd job you could fit into your schedule. It had helped to alleviate some of your negativity, but when you’d learned the stories of how Nami, Zoro, Usopp and Sanji joined the crew, it all just flooded back into you — because obviously Luffy had seen something within them that made them worthy to be on his crew, so much so that he practically begged them to join.

So why were you on the crew?

You paused in your rinsing and cast a weary glance at your captain, who was completely oblivious to your inner agony, still digging into the lamb legs like a man starved. Your heart cinched within your chest, and you felt tears stinging at your eyes. Did Luffy even really want you here? Or did he just agree to bring you along because he felt sorry for you? You’d never had a good filter on your mouth, so that inward thought quickly became an outward question.

“Luffy, do you even want me here?” You wanted your voice to sound strong, to convey nonchalance or maybe even anger, but it came out muted and weak — all the insecurity and desperation that you tried so hard to keep shoved down bubbled up to saturate each and every word.

Luffy paused his chewing for only a moment, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, then, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “of course I do, (Y/N). Why wouldn’t I?”

You wanted to laugh, because his answer was just so Luffy, but you held in the sound because you just knew that it would come out choked and wet — the last thing you wanted was for Luffy to see the evidence of just how weak you are. If he didn’t want you to join in the first place, as you were sure was already the case even if his words opposed it, you knew that seeing you in such a state would only make his conviction grow.

You were silent for a long moment, the only noise being the backdrop of waves splashing against the hull of the Merry and the slightly wet smacks of Luffy’s chewing. Biting your lip, you briefly wondered if you should be honest with Luffy; that would be for the best, wouldn’t it? What was it that they say? Rip the bandaid off? With a heavy sigh you parted your lips to speak, but Luffy swallowed his bite loudly and cut you off.

“I mean, you’re a great baker. And you’re kind, compassionate, and you really care for everyone on the crew. You’re always asking if we’re okay, if we need anything, and any time one of us is feeling down, you always do your best to pick us up. You’re thoughtful, too; if you see something you think one of will like or if it reminds you of us, you get it for us. Like that time that you bought me that stuffed monkey from that town, because you said it reminded you of me.”

You were speechless — you weren’t even aware that Luffy had noticed that about you, and the more his words registered, the more your skin heated until you felt as if it would burst into flames. Luffy didn’t seem to have the same issue; he just continued to bite into the lamb leg as if what he’d just said didn’t just discombobulate you at the seams.

After fumbling for a few seconds you finally found your ability to speak. “I-it’s just… you didn’t ask me to join, like you did with everyone else.”

“Because you asked first,” Luffy said without missing a beat, the sunniest of smiles painted on his face, making your heart thump crazily within your chest as it tightened.

Warm smile still plastered on his face, Luffy placed his half eaten lamb leg on the plate with the rest (and some nearly clean bones) and slipped from the stool. Your heart sped up with each step Luffy took towards you, and by the time he was standing in front of you, you felt as if the organ would beat right out of your chest.

“I was going to ask you either way, (Y/N). I knew I wanted you on my crew from the moment I talked to you.”

Luffy’s hand reached out and gently plucked the plate from your grasp, dropping it into the soapy water with a soft thud that made you wince in sympathy for the fine ware. When your hand was empty, Luffy grabbed it in his own, and you swore your heart completely stopped in that instance. You wet your lips and glanced up at him shyly.

“Why? Why did you want me to join?” Your voice was soft, bashful, his words and close proximity making it nearly impossible to think — but his smile was so bright that it easily cut through the fog in your mind.

“Because I really like you! I want to eat your delicious pastries every day. And I want to sail the Grand Line with you, and find the One Piece together.”

You stared at Luffy with wide eyes, cheeks heating rapidly as you processed his words.

“L-Luffy, do you mean y-you—”

“Yes, I like you a lot, (Y/N).” Luffy cut you off, his hand squeezing yours tighter. “And I want you by my side. I’m sorry you ever thought differently. I promise you’ll never feel that way again.”

With those words Luffy pulled you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you and pressing you flush against his lean body. Luffy was so warm, so open, so genuine, that you were helpless to do much else other than melt into his embrace.

You didn’t think you could love being on the sea more than you did, but Luffy just made it ten times better, and any and all regret you’d had previously was washed away like a stream to the sea.

#opla #opla x reader #opla luffy x reader

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random0lover · 1 year

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Her Past Is Their Torture

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst/No Comfort (yet), SFW, talk of death, readers fake funeral is mentioned, fake identity is mentioned, healing wound referenced, A gun is mentioned one time, words "terrorist group" is used once, nothing to serious!

Things to know: reader themself is never referenced looks wise so this is POC friendly! Also if you decide to follow me after reading, READ MY PINNED POST, thank you ♡

Notes: I wrote this in 3 hours after not writing anything for a while, so I hope this is okay! This somehow is getting turned into a mini-series, but I cannot make any promises on how fast each part will come out, but it will be a happy ending!! Kind of proof read but not really so sorry for any errors <3

Part 1 Part 2 (You’re here!)

You were not supposed to be alive. Your heart had stopped while you were lying in the arms of the man you loved but somehow you were alive sneaking your way through the base that you used to call home.

Today was the day of your funeral, a month after the incident, you knew it would be your only chance to make it onto base to grab a few of your main keepsakes from your room, and no matter how bad of an idea it was, you wanted to stop in Simon’s room one last time.

Laswell didn't know you were here as far as she knew you were on your way to pick up everything to complete your temporary new identity. A 24-year-old from the States wanting to get some traveling in after completing nursing school before going back home to start their job as an ER nurse. Enough information to satisfy anyone that wanted to have a chat but nothing that would be too memorable.

Kate was the first person you saw after you woke up in a room that was decorated with floral designs that reminded you of the worn couch that sat in your grandmother's living room until the day she passed away. She told you that your getting shot that night wasn’t a coincidence and that the same people you've spent the last few years running from were once again coming after you.

Before you became part of Task Force 141 you had previously been part of a different unit, one that now has no evidence of existing after a mission that went haywire. You had all been tasked to eradicate a terrorist group that had supposedly made threats to multiple governments not knowing that you were not the first unit being sent in, that it was a death wish going after them. You and your captain had been the only ones to survive at first until four months later you woke in the middle of the night to a frantic phone call from him saying that they were going to come for you next, the sound of a shotgun being cocked, then the line went dead. Not ten minutes later you had packed a bag and were getting ready to go out the backdoor when you heard your front door being kicked in, if it hadn't been for your captain making that call you would've been dead too.

From that day you spent two years running, going everywhere from China to The United States, to Poland, to Japan, anywhere you could hide until Kate had you staying in the UK which is when she introduced you to Captain John Price and you officially became part of task force 141. Price was the only one that knew your full story until you told Simon but you never got the chance to tell him that you might have to keep running one day. That the people that were after you would only show up to try and kill you to then disappear without a trace until they decided to come after you again.

You had become too comfortable, too hopeful that they were not going to come after you again, that maybe it was all over but the healing bullet wound in your side states otherwise.

You shake your head to get out of your thoughts and continue to make your way through the base while keeping your head down.

~~**~~

This morning you had watched to make sure all of the task force members had left so that you didn't risk running into any of them. You had already been to your room making sure to grab the necklace Soap and Gaz had gifted you on your birthday last year, the little notebook Soap would doodle in when he would sit in your room with you, the t-shirt you had stolen from Simon’s closet, and a coffee mug that Price had jokingly given you that said “dad’s favorite”.

You knew it was all pointless stuff but the little things had always meant the most to you especially when it was things that people that were as close to family as you'll get had given you.

Walking through the men's barracks would not be a good idea usually but today they were mostly barren for obvious reasons. You quickly made it to Simon’s room having to resist stopping in Gaz’s room and staying focused. Oddly enough the door was unlocked but you didn’t think much of it, mainly just thanking the stars that you got lucky enough that he forgot.

You make your way into the room gently shutting the door behind you and move until you're standing beside his bed closing your eyes for a moment taking a deep breath, taking in the smell of pine and cedar mixed with notes of vanilla and a small hint of smoke.

You open your eyes and finally let your eyes drift across the room. The room itself is completely clean not a thing out of place almost as if it hadn't been touched since the morning before that last mission what catches your attention though is the small desk in the corner that is currently the dirtiest you've ever seen it, covered in a few stacks of paperwork, mugs that have dried-out tea bags in them, and not so shockingly your file. It was sitting on top of everything else but you could tell from the creases and a few dirt stains in the manilla folder that it had been opened multiple times and maybe even thrown or dropped a few times.

You feel in your pocket for the folded note that you had written the night before and pull it out. You stare at it for a moment before opening the folder and sliding it in between some papers at the bottom of the stack hoping that he’ll find it. As soon as you close the folder you hear some voices coming down the hallway and make your way towards his closed closet waiting to see if you’ll need to hide. You hear the voice fade and let out the breath you were holding until you see the door handle turning and frantically throw yourself into the closet hiding behind his clothes and trying to shut the door.

Simon comes into your view for a moment and you see him looking around the room, you hear him let out a sigh before taking a deep breath and you see his body go rigid, you freeze hoping he didn’t hear you, and hear him sniff again almost as if he smells something weird. He turns towards the closet and you can see his eyes settle on the door, you want to slap yourself for not making sure to close it all the way and suck in a breath as he takes a step forward reaching out to open the door but before he can you hear his door open again.

“You got that file you were looking for Lt.?” Soap asks from the doorway.

Simon looks at the closet door one more time before turning to the desk and grabbing the file, “Yeah Johnny, let’s go.”

You wait in the closet for another five minutes before you decide that it’s safe to venture out and quickly make your exit, locking the door behind you before you sneak off base.

As soon as you reach your car the burner phone that was in the center console starts ringing the screen saying ‘GREEN’ in big bold letters meaning that it’s Kate. You pull out the phone and answer it while starting the car. “Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”

“I'm almost there Kate, I’ll be there soon. Promise.” You sigh before hanging up.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed the second part to Open Wounds and War Paint! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. <3

As of right now I have a few requests, but requests are open! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡

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readerstories · 11 days

Text

In Rain and Mud - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 3/4

God damn this is a long one, these men have me in a strangle hold. (Part 1) (Part 2) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence,porn with plot, biting, blood, smut, anal fingering, oral, anal

Wordcount: 7209

Summary: Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town. So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

Getting out of the shower, you feel a lot fresher and better not smelling like blood and guts. It took several rounds of shampoo and soap to get it all out, but now you are clean. A little sore, but clean.

As you step out of the shower you realize the scent of blood is still lingering in the air, faint but noticeable enough to make you sniff the warm and humid air.

Grabbing a towel to put around your shoulders, your nose leads you to your laundry hamper, Logan’s and Wade’s suits next to it with two black damp towels sitting on top of your laundry. Logan’s suit is folded, Wade’s is crumpled on the floor. Picking up one towel, you sniff it. It smells of tobacco, leather, earth, and blood. Blood of multiple people.

Interesting.

Dropping one towel, you pick up the other. The blood is very much there too, but the rest of the smell is like sticking your nose in a bag of gummy worms. Sweet and artificial.

You assume this is Wade, and the first was Logan.

Deciding you should probably stop smelling dirty laundry, you dry off, combing your hair into a somewhat controlled mess after you fluff it up with your towel drying, before wrapping the towel around your waist. They have already seen you nude, but it’s the principal of it. That was right after a fight, this is too long after it to be casual or in the moment.

Stepping out of your bathroom, you find Logan sitting on the couch, Wade wandering around the room poking and prodding at your stuff.

“Finally!” Wade exclaims, cutting off a sentence that you barely catch the end of, something about cats and dogs? “Thought you were going to be there forever and we would have to leave without seeing that pretty face and body again.” Wade strides over to you in what can almost be described as a bounce, grabbing a clean pair of green sweats and a black t-shirt he had apparently raided your dresser for.

“Boo for the towel sweetcheeks. You couldn’t even leave a few water droplets for us to watch running down that hot and hairy bod, and to fantasize about later?” He grabs your shoulder, leaning in to sniff loudly right next to your ear before pulling back.

“You smell like wet dog.” He grins and you growl at him, your vocal chords changing enough that it comes out more wolf than human.

“Just get in the fucking shower Wade.” You have half a mind to just throw him outside and make him shower with rainwater running off from your roof, but he lets go of your shoulder.

“Yes captain, yes sir.” He gives you a mock salute, topped with a wink just before the door slams shut behind him. You roll your eyes at him, looking at Logan to see if he agrees with you that Wade is the most unserious man you have ever met.

You notice the beer bottle in Logan’s hand and an empty bottle of whiskey (you assume and hope from last night) on the floor just after making brief eye contact with him. You glance at the clock.

9 am.

You look back at him, he stops with the beer bottle half way up to his mouth, tilting his head and raising a brow.

You shrug after a few seconds. None of your business.

“Just leave some for me.” Is all you say as you head to your bedroom, grabbing the clothes you stripped off before the fight. Smart thing would have been to pick them up earlier and get them with the rest of your laundry, but for now you toss them into a corner of your room, grabbing a clean white t-shirt, and new (plain, but practical, thank you very much) boxers, reusing your grey sweatpants, deeming them clean enough. You forego socks, padding back out into the living room on bare feet.

Logan has left the couch, beer set aside as he kneels in front of your fireplace, building up with logs to start a new fire with the few smoldering embers from last night's fire. You can hear Wade singing something in the bathroom, it sounds like a Taylor Swift song, you can’t place it, but you can hear how out of tune it is.

You don’t say anything to Logan, leaning your hip against your couch and watching him as he works, tuning out Wade as good as you can with enhanced hearing.

You kind of wish you had given Logan a t-shirt instead of a hoodie, so you could have maybe, if the shirt was tight enough, watch his back muscles move.

With practiced ease Logan gets good results just a few moments later, flames licking greedily up the newspaper and logs, casting a warm glow. He gets up with the smallest of grunts, which you wouldn’t have heard if you had normal hearing.

He doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest as he turns around and finds you looking at him, his expression neutral as it can be with those frown lines. You briefly wonder what other abilities he has other the the knuckle knives and healing that left his hands looking untouched.

Your stomach chooses that moment to gurgle with hunger. A raised brow from him in humor at your uncontrolled stomach.

“You want a sandwich?” You don’t know why you ask him, to be polite you assume, as unusual that is for you in this whole weird situation.

“No.” His answer is to the point. “No thank you.” He adds as an afterthought, seemingly just as unused to being polite as you are. You shrug in acceptance, walking to your fridge as he goes back to the couch, grabbing a book from a shelf on the way.

He starts reading as you make your sandwich, the silence of the room broken only by the crackling of the fire and Wade’s still very off key singing, now it’s a song you definitely don’t recognize, something about underwear?

Whatever.

You finish making your sandwiches, taking your plate over to the couch, you too grabbing a book on your way to read. Logan glances at you as you sit down, there’s two armchairs you could have sat in, but you want your comfy corner on the sofa, so he will just have to share.

Besides, it makes it easier to discreetly smell him while you eat. He smells of tobacco and leather, but also a little bit like your conditioner and mild laundry detergent. He must have showered last night, stealing your products. You wonder if he styles his hair into those little tufts he has (which kind of look like cat ears), or if it falls like that ‘naturally.’

You know Wade is also using your products right this second, though at least he won’t need your shampoo and conditioner.

Speak of the devil, the door to the bathroom slams open, Wade stepping out in a cloud of steam, making you both look up at him.

“Ahhhh, I feel like heaven! You gotta tell me where you got that watermelon scrub, makes me feel smooth like a baby all over.” You stare at Wade, because he’s wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten as a joke gift from a friend, (that you thought you had burned years ago), that says “I <3 big titted men” in bold white letters.

“Where the fuck did you find that?” It’s a little tight on him, becoming tighter as he flexes jokingly, almost posing for you to take him in fully. Which you do to be fair, he’s a lot fitter than you thought after that first glance when he was just wearing his pants yesterday.

“Top left drawer pookie. You’re due for a closet cleanout b-t-dubs. But also a closet upgrade, cause there was like, no fun underwear in there, not even some with those little comic red hearts on them.” He plops down between you and Logan, making Logan grunt and you growl at him as he steals half of one sandwich.

“You guys having a book club over here, or have I missed some important plot?” You eye him in annoyance, the stolen part of your sandwich disappearing quickly into his mouth. He tries to grab the other half, but you slap his hand away, which he pulls back quickly and holds with an over-dramatic pout.

“Not much else to do, other than watch whatever dvd’s I have, which I’ve already seen all off.”

“Boooorrrinnnggg. The books, not the dvd’s, I’m sure you got some real juicy ones in there.”

“Knock yourself out.” You gesture to the cabinet below your tv, and he quickly gets up, knocking his legs into yours. He tries another swipe of your sandwich, all he gets is another slap to his hand, though you are tempted to slap his thigh since it was within reach, but you restrain yourself.

He kneels in front of your dvds, but before he can open his mouth to say more shit, you decide to ask a question that has been on your mind since the fight (or slaughter you suppose) in front of your cabin.

“Who were those people? In the tactical gear.”

“Bad guys!” Wade comments, while reading the back of a dvd. “It was a job, we attacked a facility of theirs not far from here.” You frown.

“There isn’t supposed to be anything around here.”

“Well there isn’t anymore!” Wade cheerfully replies as he opens a case, taking out the disc and inserting it into your dvd player.

“Genius over here blew it up, along with our ride out of there.” Logan helpfully supplies, voice gruff and clearly having had enough of Wade’s shit a long time ago before you even met them.

“Oh shush you Mr grumpy, at least it led to this sweet man and his sweet bod and his sweet cabin.” Wade pinches your cheek as he settles down, earning yet another slap to his hand, the want for you to strangle him starting to build in the back of your brain.

“That does mean that we technically owe you money though, since you took down a good part of their team. Brutally, but very beautifully I might add.” You snort, taking a last bite of your sandwich. You notice how Wade follows the motion with his eyes briefly before starting to fiddle with the remote to your tv.

“No thanks, I’m not that desperate right now.”

“Ohhhh, someone has a big dark secret??” Logan turns his head to watch you out of the corner of his eye, his ability to only pay attention to only the words that matter from Wade’s mouth a clearly much learned and needed ability.

“Not really, just doing some dirty work here and there when my part time butcher job wasn’t enough, not much more to it.” You shrug, glancing at the TV, noticing of all things Wade had chosen “The First Wives club” as the movie to watch.

“Awww, a little baby mercenary!” He goes to pinch your cheek again, you catch his wrist, tempted to break it, but you just throw it in his lap instead. Logan watches the exchange with a barely there upturn of his lips that you just manage to catch before his face is his usual neutral scowl.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Noted, baby is off limits, but sweetcheeks and handsome is not.” Wade grins and you roll your eyes.

“You fought something fierce out there.” Logan's voice is rough, cutting of whatever asinine thing Wad was about to say. You assume it’s meant as a compliment from Logan, taking it as such, though you shrug.

“I’m a mutant, it’s not the first time I had to defend something that’s mine, or use my powers for something grisly.” Your tone is light, it’s just a fact of life really.

“Awww, schnookums, you already think of us as yours!” Wade swoons, hips knocking into you and Logan, hands on his face and voice going into a higher pitch.

“The cabin you idiot.” You promptly ignore the little stutter your heart gives at the idea his words plants in your brain, and hope Logan is too deep in his second beer to notice or at least care. “Didn’t want it full of bullet holes.”

“Well, we were in front of it, which means we would also have been full of bullet holes, which means you do care.” Wade staples his fingers under his chin, blinking innocently up at you. Well, as innocent as a merc can blink covered in scars and bumps while you were told that he blew up a building the day before, before turning up on your porch smelling of blood.

You look at him incredulously, book long forgotten in favor of this strange man. If nothing else, he keeps your attention easily.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You glance over Wade towards Logan. “Have you ever heard him shut the fuck up?”

“I keep talking unless my mouth is otherwise occupied handsome.” Wade says and winks, patting your thigh.

It’s far from the flirtiest thing that has spewed out of his mouth since you met him, but for some reason this time, it plants an idea in your head.

You look at Logan, who is rolling his eyes, but when you keep looking he squints and raises a brow. You glance at Wade, who’s still talking, though you have tuned his words out.

There’s a question in the tilt of your head and mirrored raised brow. Have you ever…?

Logan frowns as he realizes your silent question, shaking his head.

Turning your head the other way and glancing back at Wade, there’s a new question. Would you…?

Logan licking his lips, tongue barely peeking out is a clear answer.

“Hey, stop talking with your eyebrows, it’s not fair when I don’t have any!” You tune back into Wade, who clearly had realized that you weren’t listening to him, though you don’t think he has quite realized what silent questions and answers were happening right in front of him. He looks between you and Logan, the latter just staring at you.

You take that as an invitation to start whatever the hell this is going to be. You grab the collar of that god ugly t-shirt, pulling Wade closer to you.

“Hey, hey, be careful with the merchandise.”

“Wade.” Logan speaks from behind him.

“Was it the eyebrow comment? Really? That was what pushed you over the edge? To be fair to me they are bushy and match the whole wo-”

“Wade.” Logan growls his name out, making Wade whip his neck at an impressive speed, finding him closer than he was seconds ago. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You can already see the protest forming in Wade’s throat, so you turn his head towards you with a gentle hand on his jaw, stopping those words with a brief kiss to his scarred lips.

They are bumpier than anyone else you have kissed before, but you certainly don’t mind.

You only let the kiss last for a few seconds, pulling back just enough to gauge Wade’s reaction.

His eyes are closed, but he opens them and blinks as more than a few seconds pass since the end of the kiss.

“If that’s all I’m gonna get, I am going to say you are really bad at edging.” You snort. So at least the flirting wasn’t all for show. Using your hold in his shirt, you pull him forwards, somehow maneuvering you both so you are leaning your back against the arm rest, Wade straddling your lap.

“If this is not your wet dream, it’s certainly one of mine.” You have one hand fisted in his t-shirt still, the other settles on his hip. His hands wander all over you. “You run warm. Is it the whole wolf thing? You are hot in more ways than one, though if you are just gonna hold me here and do nothing, I am going to call you a lot worse words than a god damn tease- Oh my god.” You grin up at Wade as Logan presses himself against his back, one hand on Wade’s unoccupied hip, the other covering your hand in his hip.

“Okay, this is definitely my wet dream now.” Wade laughs, his eyes wide, clearly not believing what is happening just yet. To convince him that this is real and not a dream, you tug on his shirt again to pull him into yet another kiss.

This one is longer, messier, deeper. You discover the inside of Wade’s mouth is soft, one place his scars haven't touched.

Your tongue explores the skin there as you wonder how it would feel around your dick. His hands are constantly moving, gliding through your hair, over your chest, down your stomach, up over your side. Not staying still for a second, but not even attempting to touch you where you want him to most.

And he had called you a tease.

Wade lets you do as you please, though he tries to give as good as he gets, but he’s somewhat distracted with the weight of Logan pressing into him, but also making him grind down on you with your combined hands on his hips.

Your own cock grows hard in your sweatpants, making your hips twitch up towards Wade, well as much as you can with two men pretty much in your lap, one noticeably heavier than the other.

Wade whines, noise escaping between kisses, making a pleased rumble work its way up from your chest without really meaning to. Logan groans behind him, letting go of Wade’s hip to slip his hand into your hair, getting a good grip and tugging. You groan, it makes you break the kiss with Wade.

“What the hell Logan, can’t you see- Oh!” Logan leans forward even more, effectively squeezing Wade between the two of you as he pulls you into a kiss. He is softer than Wade, but hairier, his beard rubbing against you deliciously. His tongue dips into your mouth, just briefly between a lot lighter kisses.

Wade’s face is pressed against your shoulder, and he takes the opportunity to bite down on your clothed shoulder. You gasp with pain and pleasure into Logan’s mouth, who takes the opportunity to press his tongue in deeper, which you take greedily.

You break the kiss, but only so you can retaliate against Wade, biting him with a lot sharper teeth, sharp enough that you rip through fabric and pierce skin, tasting that familiar copper tang on your tongue. Logan still has his grip on your hair, though it is lighter now.

“Jesus fuck I swear on myself like Marvel Jesus, I liked that shirt!” You hear Logan snort, making you look up at him

“Too bad.” You hum, letting your hands transform just enough that you have claws, giving you an easy way to slit the t-shirt into pieces, keeping eye contact with Logan as you do so. Your claws leave light red marks in your wake, not much worse than someone with long nails scratching, but they are gone in seconds, just as you realize the bite on his shoulder is already gone as well.

So he has super healing too, info you file away for later to maybe test out some more. Perk, you can go hard. Con, no marks to look at and adore later.

“If the two of you plan on fucking each other through me I am so down, but I must point out my mouth is horribly unoccupied at the moment.” He’s right, which you can’t have, so you push at Logan’s thigh, making him back off. Logan does so, but doesn’t go far, only enough so you can swing your legs over the side of the couch, plating them on the floor as you manhandle Wade down to kneel between them.

Your cock is aching in your sweatpants, pre-come making a little wet spot on the grey fabric, which Wade hones in on. His hands are on your thighs, all of him leaning forward, but pausing as black clad thighs sit down next to you, an arm thrown over the back of the couch, hand brushing against your shoulder.

“Your choice with how you wanna occupy that pretty little mouth of yours Wade.” You press your thumb to his bottom lip, he opens his mouth so suck on your thumb for a few seconds, eyes darting between your own and Logan’s.

“This mouth is not pretty or little, it’s huge and filthy, don’t either of you forget it.” Thumb out of his mouth, he dips down and forward to mouth at your cock through the soft material of your pants.

“Wolvie over there can wait, he has already gotten to almost sorta fuck me in a Honda Oddesy.” You look at Logan, who grimaces.

“It was a fight.”

“The most homoerotic thing I’ve ever been a part of that wasn't just straight bone on bone.”

“I stabbed you.” Interesting.

“Not mutually exclusive honey badger.”

“Multiple times.” Very interesting.

“Still-” Rolling your eyes, you quickly end what is turning out to be unnecessary bickering by pressing Wade’s face down into your crotch with a heavy hand on the back of his head.

“Okay yeah, message received!” His words are muffled against your dick, but his thumbs up is clear. And it feels good, which is all you care about for the moment. Speaking of, you look to the side, catching Logan staring. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly let him, breathing in the scent of the two of them around you.

All you can smell is sex, arousal, and excitement, what is coming stronger off whom is impossible to decipher.

Wade’s hands on your thighs move up to your waistband as his mouth keeps dancing over your still clothed cock, sucking it through the by now soaking material. You groan and moan, each noise swallowed greedily by Logan.

Wade fingers curl, starting to pull your sweats down, he momentarily stops as the fabric bunches up because he can’t move it further, but you are quick to lift up your hips just enough so he can pull it the rest of the way off. Somehow you manage to not break your kiss with Logan, which means he feels the pleased rumble you let out against his lips as Wade’s hand circles your cock.

“Not gonna lie, your cock is great, perfect size honestly, but I was expecting the carpet to match the drapes so to speak.” You and Logan both break the kiss, looking down at Wade, who’s slowly moving his hand up and down your cock, making it hard to dechiper what the fuck he means.

“Wade, what the fuck are you on about?” Logan grumbles out, a hand falling down on your thigh, squeezing without seeming to be conscious of the action. Wade looks at him, raising one hand up towards Logan.

“One: saw his full form." Middle finger up. "2: his partial transforming of his hands." Pointer finger up. "3: Why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to transform just this?” Ring finger comes up as he squeezes your cock, making your hips twitch up and cock leak pre-come.

“Oh for fucks sake you moron.” Logan scowls at him, hand squeezing your thigh again as Wade strokes over your cock, slowly. Something about the bickering like this is oddly familiar, but also very hot.

“Don’t bully me, I’ll cum.” Wade jokes right back at Logan’s words. You pluck his hand off your cock, even as much as you don’t want to. “Hey, hey, I am not complaining enough for you to do that!” He tries to get his hands back on you, but you hold his wrists so he can’t move as you concentrate.

The transformation isn’t as smooth and effortless as your other ones, needing some concentration and muscles flexed in effort. Slowly your cock transforms, growing longer, thicker, tapered with a bulge towards the bottom, just above your balls.

Wade wolf whistles, Logan stares in stunned silence.

“Ohhhh, who made you realize you could do this?

“If you think you’re the first person that asked this question I’ve met Wade, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh no no no, no disappointment here, just utter delight that whoever they were helped you on your way to realize your full freak potential.” You snort letting go of his hands, which immediately goes to your cock. You throw your head back, your own hands finding their spot on the back of his head, not pushing, but clearly sending a message of where you want this to go eventually.

Logan’s hand on your thigh squeezes down again, and you hear and feel him shift on the couch, leaning forward so he can smell over your throat.

“You smell like a fucking three course meal, and fucking look like it too.” He growls against your skin, and you feel sharp canines brushing against your pulse. Your dick pulses, leaking more pre-come, which is suddenly cleaned away by Wade’s warm tongue. You moan, one hand moving from Wade’s head to Logan’s, pressing him against your neck as you tilt your head.

He takes the invitation, pressing sharp teeth into your throat and biting down as Wade starts to sink his mouth down around your cock. Logan bite is not hard enough to draw blood, but you can tell he wants to with the way he keeps biting over the same spot over and over again, skin healing rapidly beneath his teeth.

You lick your lips, trying to find your words, but it’s hard with Wade’s mouth on your cock, and Logan’s mouth on your neck and his hands on your thigh and in your hair.

But you manage to find them, by the grace of whatever deity you believe in.

“Logan, I was shot today, I think I can manage your teeth.” You growl out, which Logan answers with a growl of his own. You feel Wade moan around your cock, his tongue working over your shaft as his mouth slides up and down your cock, as Logan finally bites down hard enough to draw blood.

It stings, but it feels so goddamn good, especially as he doesn’t let up, not giving your sking a chance to heal, making the blood run down the side of your neck.

Without thinking your hips chant up, chasing that pleasure you can feel cursing through your veins. Wade choking on your cock is expected, as he does you feel your cock twitch, even as he pulls off you to catch his breath. His hands don't leave you though.

“Fuck, give a guy some warning.”

“Wade, less talking.” Logan has only let go of your neck to speak in a low voice that is all grumble and no finesse.

“Yeah yeah, just a quick question, does your healing work on refractory periods?”

“Yes.” You and Logan answer in unison, staring at each other for a few seconds before your focus is back on Wade, a wide smile taking up most of his face.

“Oh I fucking love my life, and fanfiction. I am going to make you come in my mouth first, then I am going to ride this freaky dick into the sunset. Or sunrise, cause I can go alllll night.” You roll your eyes. But, you like the sound of that plan, arousal stirring in your guts at his words. You need things to move along.

“I got lube in the bedroom, bottom drawer on the right nightstand.”

“Damn, the one place I didn’t have time to snoop. Come on peanut, go get it, and then help me open up for this massive thing.” You expect some sort of protest from Logan, but he gets up, only pausing to steal a kiss and whisper in your ear.

“I want to watch him ride you, to both of you break.” His dick is temptingly close to your face as he gets up, just a little lean forward and down, but you don’t move an inch, mouth dry and speech having left your for a few seconds as you watch him the whole walk to your bedroom, that fantastic ass on display even in black sweatpants.

“Deadpool fucking Wade, that man.” You look down at him. “What, I am Marvel Jesus, only fitting I take my own name in vain.” God he is on some nonsense, you mind less now though he kneels in front of you, shirtless, hard as a rock in his pants, a mix of pre-come and spit shining on his lips.

Once more you push your thumb into his mouth, though this time the rest of your fingers rest under his chin, giving you a grip to guide him towards your cock.

“You talk too much.” He doesn’t protest at all, taking your cock into his mouth so easily and willingly, sucking on the tip before sinking down further, hands covering what his mouth and tongue can’t or don’t.

You hear Logan come back just a few short moments later, as he kneels behind Wade, who you feel wiggle as good as he can while keeping his mouth’s rhythm on your cock. The uncapping of the lube bottle makes you open your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had closed them.

Logan is fully nude now, Wade matching seconds later as his pants are pulled off by Logan. You tug your own shirt off, throwing it to the side, not caring where it lands.

You watch as Logan sinks the tip of one finger inside Wade. Wade reaches back, pushing Logan’s hand against him, making him sink deeper.

“More.” It’s barely audible around your cock, but it gets the message across, making Logan push his finger all the way to the knuckle. Wade moans around your cock at the feeling, which in turn makes you moan as pleasure shoots up your spine.

Logan pulls his finger out of Wade, but before he can protest, there’s two thick digits shoved inside of him. Wade’s hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise, but you know with your healing they will never appear, which is a shame, because you think to have Wade’s handprints on you would be hot.

Two fingers soon turn into three, and it takes some damn self control on your part to not come in Wade’s mouth as he groans around you because of the added stretch.

He takes his mouth off your cock, licking over your shaft and balls before spitting in his hand, looking over his shoulder at Logan.

“I want you to fuck me first, spread me open for him.” Logan groans as Wade looks up at you, hand pumping fast over your cock. “And you are going to come in my mouth, then I’m riding you even if the fucking couch breaks and the stuffing is spilling out.” You voice your agreement with this arrangement by leaning down and pulling him into a quick and messy kiss.

“You better hurry up, or else I’m just going to spill all over your hand.” Your voice is deep, more grumble than words, but Wade takes those words to heart, mouth sinking down and around your cock once more.

Behind him, Logan sinks into him, slowly filling him up. You can tell he’s sunk to the hilt when Wade stops, a shuddering breath coming out of his nose.

The pause isn’t long, hands and mouth on your cock working hard on you to make you spill on his tongue. One hand goes down to fondle your balls, for a moment dipping lower, teasing, before going back up.

Logan starts slow, but Wade isn’t having it, reaching back like earlier, pawing at his ass, clearly wanting more.

Which Logan gladly gives, the wet slaps of him fucking into Wade filling the room alongside the noises of Wade sucking your cock like a champion.

One of your hands is gripping the couch so hard it’s a miracle the fabric hasn’t ripped, the other is pressing down on Wade’s head.

Not that it’s needed, he’s sucking on you like a man starved, or a man on a mission. A mission to taste you, to make you cum before he does.

Which is nearly thwarted as Logan gets his hand on Wade’s cock, if the full body shudder is anything to go by.

But, by some miracle, you come first, exploding over Wade's tongue with just a shout of his name as warning. He almost chokes, but drinks you down, making sure to get every drop of you. He lets your cock fall out of his mouth to lick up what has spilled from his mouth, almost teasing if it wasn’t for how desperate his movements are.

Your cock stays hard, through just minimal effort from you, though you hardly pay it any mind with how Wade moans against your warm skin.

Logan is giving him as good as Wade gave you. Wade's mouth dance over your thighs before biting down as he cums, spilling come over Logan’s hand, and blood over his teeth and your thigh.

Logan is not far behind. Three pumps is all it takes for him to spill inside Wade, and you swear you see his claws peeking out from between his knuckles. Seconds later they are gone, Logan panting hard against Wade before pulling out. He’s still hard, which makes your mouth water and an idea forms in your head.

Before you can act on it though, you find yourself being manhandled onto your back, seconds later Wade is straddling you, hips spread wide. He grabs your cock, guiding it in, slowly starting to sink down. His cock is still hard or perhaps hard again, you don’t know or care to differentiate the two. You go grab it, but he bats your hand away.

All it does is shift your attention to Logan, who is still kneeling on the floor, cock hard between his legs as he watches the two of you with rapt attention.

The idea from earlier springs forth in your minds. You need your mouth on that cock.

Right now.

You make what can only be described as a grabby motion at him, too focused on not coming again already, you cock inside Wade’s warm and wet hole making it difficult to be able to form proper words.

It does get the message across though, as soon enough you have Logan straddling your chest, your hands grabbing his ass as you guide his hips towards your face. He chuckles, which goes straight to your dick which makes it twitch inside Wade, who in turn moans.

He rests his tip on your lips, and you open your mouth, ready to feel the weight and taste of him on your tongue and in your mouth.

You suspect he was going to try to keep back, to deny himself and you just for a few moments longer, but it’s squashed as Wade also squeezes Logan’s ass, laughing at the grumble it gets him.

“Come on, you know you want to, it's rude to keep a guy hanging.” For once you are glad Wade is able to quickly find his words, because yours is lost somewhere in the back of your throat where you wish for Logan’s cock to be.

He pushes his cock into your mouth, and you groan at the just perfect feeling of him on your tongue. You also shift your feet so you can meet Wade’s bounces, earning you a breathless laughter.

God, they feel so fucking good. Wade is bouncing on your cock like he was made for it, Logan fucking into your mouth slowly, clearly not wanting to choke you.

But you want him to.

Not that you really can, having almost no gag reflex.

Which Logan seems to realize as you take him with no effort over and over and over again, your mouth and throat open for him.

He speeds up, abandoning his slow pace, matching Wade’s instead.

You start to rumble, deeper than either of them have heard from you before, making them stop in their tracks.

"Fucking hell, you're like a god damn vibrator!" Wade laughs, an appreciative sigh coming out his mouth as he lazily grinds himself down on your cock. Logan lets out a low fuck, digging one hand into your hair, the other into the back of the couch, and you definitely see a quick glint of the tips of his claws again.

You’re not having this stopping, pulling at Logan, transformed claws digging into his ass as you encourage him to keep fucking into your drooling mouth, and pump your hips up into Wade. They groan in sync, starting to move again, and you feel your second orgasm rolling up on you.

All it takes is one tug off your hair from Logan and a squeeze from Wade’s hole to your to spill over the edge.

The continued vibrations in your throat as you growl while cumming send Logan over the edge, spilling all over your tongue, making you swallow it all down greedily. Wade is just a second behind, the feeling of you spilling into him being enough, making him sit down fully on your cock, milking you for every last drop as he spills over Logan’s back and ass, some of it dripping down onto your stomach.

It takes a while for you to come down, to get your senses back enough to let go of Logan’s ass, letting him pull out of your mouth. You both gasp for air, seconds later he is down and on his back on the floor, catching his breath. Wade is in a similar state pulling off you, out of breath, but he plops down on top of you instead.

You feel him leak down on your thighs, and there’s Logan’s cum on your chin where some escaped your mouth , and given a 15 minute rest, you could go again.

You don’t push for it though.

A few minutes go by, and you realize it’s the longest you’ve gone without hearing a word from Wade without anyone else talking. You lift your head, looking where he has his head on your chest. You raise two fingers against his neck, but it’s batted away, albeit weakly.

“Five more minutes.” He sounds half asleep, which he probably actually is.

“Were you going to check for a pulse?” Logan says from the floor, humor evident in his voice.

“Haven’t heard silence in so long, needed to check if everything is alright.”

“You are so mean to me.” Wade’s eyes are closed and his voice is flat, but you can feel the smile stretching his lips against your warm skin. “Mind blowing sex will do that to a man, even one as strong as me. You are both invited to fuck me unconscious again.”

“Aaannndd it’s gone.” You roll your eyes as it seems Wade is slowly rebooting, at least his mouth is, the rest of his body is limp and heavy on top of your own. “Come on, up you go.” You push at his shoulder, and he whines, actually whines, which shouldn’t go to your dick, but it does.

You ignore it with a sigh, maneuvering him enough that you can stand up on your own, leaving him on the couch, before leaning down to throw him over your shoulder like a rag doll.

“Hot.” He mumbles and you snort, turning towards Logan who is now at least sitting up on the floor. His hair is a mess, tufts long gone, disheveled locks only being pushed into somewhat of an order as he drags a hand through his hair.

“I would offer to carry you too, but I know my limits.” Logan snorts, reaching a hand out, which you take, helping him up from the floor. “I suggest we all cuddle up in bed, have a nap, then figure out something to eat.” Logan reaches for the remote, turning your TV off.

“Or we could go round three. Just give me an hour. Or two. You guys fucked me up real good.” You both roll your eyes at Wade’s words, heading to the bedroom. Logan grabs three water bottles on the way, closing the door behind you as you put Wade down on your bed. You grab your disregarded t-shirt from earlier to wipe Wade down, using a little bit of spit to loosen up the dried blood on his shoulder. He lets you without much of any noise, you would think he was already asleep if it wasn’t for the fact that barely open eyes watch you as you do so.

Logan gives Wade a water bottle, cap already off, offering you an unopened one.

“No princess treatment for me?” You jokingly ask, finished with cleaning Wade off for now, still holding onto the shirt you used to clean him with.

“You can still walk.” You chuckle before chugging half of the water bottle in one go.

“Smug fucks.” Wade mumbles, watching your throat as you chug.

“Here, let me.” Logan grabs the t-shirt from your hand, wiping away Wade’s cum from your stomach, your blood from your neck, and his and yours mixed release from your thighs. “All clean.” He spots the little spot on your chin. “Except riiiighhtt…” He licks his come away. “There.” Wade groans from the bed, making the both of you look at him,

“Still fucking hot. Scratch what I said earlier, 30 minutes and I will be rearing to go, you too hot for anyones good motherfuckers."

“Oh shut the fuck up Wade.” You say in unison. You put your water bottles to the side, Logan throwing your now very stained t-shirt into a corner as you both get on the bed with Wade. You curl up behind him, Logan against his front as he pulls the duvet up over the three of you.

Sleepy and comfy silence fills the room, only broken by a couple of yawns.

It lasts for about a minute.

“Chat, does this make me a furry?”

“Don’t make me fucking gut you Wade.” You growl, letting your nails just grow the tiniest amount so they poke into the flesh of his stomach from where you have your arm thrown over his waist.

“Ohhh, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“God, you are so fucking strange.”

“Say you, you nasty dog.” Wade pushes his ass back against your crotch, where your cock is still sensitive, though transformed back into your normal form. You and Logan growl in unison, stilling any movement Wade tries with solid hands on him.

“Shut the fuck up, and go to sleep Wade.” Logan mutters against his forehead.

“Alright, alright Wolfie and Wolvie, but you both run hot, so if I wake up in the middle of the night because I died of overheating, it’s your fault.” You scoff, nose buried against the back of his neck, the texture and sweet smell of him by now familiar, lulling you into sleep.

It also helps that he smells of you and Logan.

#logan howlett x male reader #wolverine x male reader #logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x male reader #wade wilson x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x male reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #wolverine fic #deadpool fic #marvel fic #deadpool and wolverine fic #male!reader #written #male reader

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violetganache42 · 1 month

Text

Highlights from a swashbuckling, futuristic watch party on this fine 6th anniversary of "The Shadow War!":

"No Sail"

The sail deactivating every ten seconds after despositing a nickel

"Warning: Never. Drink. Sea water! Tempting as it is, it'll just make you thirstier."

Mine!

Goofy pulling up a fake shark fin while Donald gets a real shark

Return of the Perfect Cast!

"Duck to the Future"

Godfrey and I DREADING this episode

Not Doofus Drake! ><

WriteBackAtYa: "Who doesn’t want lemonade made by 87 Doofus Drake’s feet?"

(No! Bad Will!)

Magica appearance?!

This episode predicting Scrooge being Doctor Who

$500 BUS FAIR?! DAMN INFLATION!

HDL's "adult" designs (It's not fucking hard to make them look like actual adult ducks!)

Old Man Gyro

Me: "Where's Time Baby when you need him?" Godfrey: "Again, same brain"

Take a shot every time WriteBackAtYa says "It gets worse"

Us HATING Future Webby's design (Her outfit is fine, but everything else? Bless me bagpipes, it's bad!)

Pay no attention to the witch behind the curtain!

Future Doofus being an absolute dick (Webby deserves someone better, and that someone is Lena!)

puffywuffy8904 and Alex: *pointing out how Drake is dead* WriteBackAtYa: "The orange traffic cone above his grave should be stolen by now"

Johnny Quest ass shot

Future Louie riding shotgun

Even in the original series, Dewey crashes a plane

Suddenly, THE HINDENBURG DISASTER

Scrooge disrupting the timeline with Webby saying she's not into Doofus (Thank you for setting the course for a good future, Scrooge. This episode was… UGH… Never again! ><)

"Sky Pirates…in the Sky!"

Dewey wanting to tell his family how he got his hat

"Hey feet off the merchandise!"

Us singing the Sky Pirate song!

Scrooge's golden reaction after the song finished and the treasure was stolen

puffywuffy8904: "even though it was SHIT"

Any: "Busted" Me:

youtube

Webby casually gaslighting Louie into believing the Sapphire of Souls is real

Louie being the Gollum of the family

Don Karnage being a bad actor

puffywuffy8904: "you know who ELSE is a botanist" Me: "MY MOM"

Cater-chiller

Godfrey and Kaito stealing my thunder

Discord dunking on Dewey by freezing the stream during his Sky Pirate reprise

Even LAUNCHPAD was mad at Dewey for what he did! LAUNCHPAD OF ALL PEOPLE! That's how you know you and your ego trip fucked up!

Magica having a better disguise than Don Karnage

Sky pirates: "A Duel!" Godfrey: "(cue duel of the fates)"

youtube

The way Scrooge boards the Sunchaser with his hat full of treasure. XD

Webby revealing to Louie she tricked him: GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

Marshmello x DuckTales - Fly (Music Video)

Scrooge and the kids embodying the element of sassy

Puffy panicking about the family being out in space

"MARSHMELLO IS A DUCKTALES FAN"

This song being in a Fortnite event apparently

Treasure Planet

Everyone realizing Missy hadn't joined yet (The lack of "smash" was noticable.)

Me sharing Treasure Planet Lorcana cards

The offended "Ewww"

melcat33: "family clearly having a huge crisis" "MY JUICE" Tokuvivor: "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the kitchen drinking… juice."

puffywuffy8904: "HEY COOL A DEAD GUY"

Alex pointing out how the dying guys always have to give a vague warning

Jim: "Treasure Planet." Me: "Roll credits."

youtube

Delbert immediately being on board to tag along with Jim

The meta in "character-building months"

The TRANSITION from the Hawkins' residence to the Spaceport!

Captain Amelia appearance!

CYBORG…

John Silver 🤝 Hugh Neutron Calling Jim and Jimmy "Jimbo"

MORPH APPEARANCE

Learning the original Treasure Planet novel popularized a lot of pirate tropes

Everyone praising how it is a fun yet underrated movie

puffywuffy8904: "wait are they gonna kiss eww" Me: "Outside. Now!"

Subtitles dying as John Silver was berating the crew

"I'm Still Here" screaming 2000s-core

Subtitles near the end of the montage:

Star Wars doing the "Your father is the true villain" shtick first

TransedMyGender: "You know what's worse than a supernova?" Alex: "see your father leave"

Scroop killing Arrow!

puffywuffy8904: "there ain't gonna be a treasure planet 2 for us to worry about" melcat33: "don't you dare jinx us"

"oh shit, guess i have a kid now"

Morph messing with Jim

Missy FINALLY joining the watch party!

Morph custody fight

Everyone saying who they consider the best duck waifu (Morph can be a duck if he wants to. lol)

Suddenly, ROBOT

Learning that Jim was voiced by Joseph Gordin Levitt (NGL, he sounded a lot like Ben Schwartz at various instances)

The violins playing

"We're not a couple" Delbert and Amelia LITERALLY having a shipping moment immediately after

puffywuffy8904: "this guy stinks" Me and WriteBackAtYa's first thoughts:

youtube

THE MEME

"Woof."

Delayed subtitles

🎵Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!🎵

The WONDERFUL meshing of 2D animation and CGI

Us @ Scroop's death:

Me: "BITE OF 87" WriteBackAtYa: "87 like ducktales?"

BATHROOM BREAK SPEEDRUN

puffywuffy8904: "hey you know what ELSE has robots and supernovas" Alex: "not Jimbo's dad"

Suddenly, HUEBERRYSHORTCAKE APPEARANCE!

This movie being TaleSpin in Space

Family is the greatest treasure of all!

WriteBackAtYa: "His mom is cool" Me: "She did her very best." WriteBackAtYa: "Like no one ever was"

SHIPPING UP TO BOSTON

youtube

Delbert and Amelia already having quatriplets quadruplets

DuckLooneyHistoria bringing up the 1988 Russian Treasure Island movie

youtube

#my post #duckblr movie night #dt cafeteria table #duckblr #no sail #ducktales #ducktales 1987 #duck to the future #ducktales 2017 #ducktales reboot #ducktales season 1 #sky pirates… in the sky!#music video #marshmello #fly #treasure planet #Youtube

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mayisgoingnuts · 2 years

Note

Pls, I beg of thee, anything with Shotty and Cap. They're so underrated (I mean they appear for two seconds but still)

Guys I think he got too excited

I also made another one of them with Lee!Shotty and Ler!Cap here

#Pls they're pure comfort #Tickle #Tickling #Ticklish #Tickle spooky month #Ler!ShotgunMan #Lee!Captain #Ler!Shotty #Lee!Cap #Shotgun Man x Captain #Shotgun Man #The Captain #I got u anon

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eatyourmaker · 29 days

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You're very cool. Can you maybe draw some poly ship art? Any ship is fine. Idk if you're taking art requests or not. Sorry if you aren't..

-Poly Anon

Oh hey Poly Anon!!

Sorry, my requests are open but I'm afraid I'm not feeling well today, plus I've got a lot on my plate—

HOWEVER...

I shall make you... A compilation/list of my poly ship posts,,, bc ur cool :]

🚔🚨 POLYOFFICERS 🚨🚔

John x Jack x Captain x Shotgun man

Just the whooooolllee ass police station

Fuck The Police

John's Freckles

Embarrassed John (+ sexuality hcs)

John+Cap n Jack+Shotty

❤️‍🔥✝️ HOLYHELLFIRE✝️❤️‍🔥

Gregor x Ignacio x Moloch

Snapcube Reference

World's Worst Roomate

Best Behavior

Sexuality Hcs (in this one they're just a small part of a bigger post but it counts)

😈🪻LILA AND THE DEARESTS🪻😈

Lila x Mommy Mearest x Daddy Dearest

(I really like this one (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠))

Lila Dates Suspicious People

Jaune's Concerns

Skid and The Dearests

Lila Protection Squad

First Meeting

🍬💰 CANDYHEIST💰🍬

Candy Dealer x Fat Thief x Thin Thief

I suck at making ship names but idk what else to call these three and there's not a lot of content of them that I can see 😭

For this one— there's only 2 posts, it's a comic I've get to continue

Part 1

Part 2

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Stuff that isn't enough for it's own category

Jaded Ego meets Funnybusiness

Entertainer Polycule

Entertainer Polycule Backstory

I hope this tides you over until I'm in a condition to do requests again, Poly-anon!!! 🫶🏾

#spooky month #spooky month sr pelo #sr pelo spooky month #I ain't tagging all them characters ✋🏾#rambling #ask

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bunnyreaper · 11 months

Text

kinktober 15 - shotgunning

john price x reader x gabriel reyes

(18+/mdni, smoking, dubcon, d/s dynamic, shamelessly self-indulgent)

the mildest sense of confusion filled you as you approached the captain's door--a call to his office so late meant either a reprimand or a social call, and you know which one you'd prefer at this moment. you also know which one there have been so much of recently, and social was a polite descriptor for your visits to the captain's office as of late.

an overwhelming smell of cigar smoke lingers outside the door as you approach, your hand knocking hesitantly as you call out, "captain?"

"come in." your captain's voice calls out, compelling you to open the door and step into the cloudy room.

your eyes drift over to your lover, noticing the way he's lounged with a cigar from his lips, and the base's special visitor is sitting across from him.

"oh, commander reyes." the man's appearance makes you straighten up, makes you worry this isn't a social call after all, but then the way the smoke swirls around the two men is anything but professional.

his smile is tight-lipped behind his trimmed goatee. "gabriel is fine." he says, a hint of sincerity to his voice.

you turn your attention back to john, trying to determine where you stand and what the visit is about. you'd long stripped out of your work clothes when you got your captain's message, so now you stand before the two men in nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and a pair of sweats--feeling horrifically out of place.

"what can i do for you captain?" you ask, voice professional.

john smirks around his cigar, amusement clear as he plucks it from his lips and flicks it into an ash tray. "the commander and i were just talking about you, love."

your stomach drops. your relationship with your captain is a secret, and from the predatory look gabriel is giving you, him being told about it only means one thing.

"john was telling me about your special relationship." he purrs, his handsome brown eyes roaming over your figure. you appraised the man too, while he was older than john, he still had his looks, bulging muscles and a dangerously magnetic look in his eyes.

"hmm, thought you could come join us for a cigar." john mumbles, coaxing you over to him, his words subtly commanding. "just like I showed you."

he pats his thigh, making room for you you perch yourself in his lap as smoke billows around you both.

"okay." you whisper, settling yourself atop of him as your eyes flicker to his lips, watching the way he puffs. arousal already shoots through you, from the hardness pushed against you and the heady atmosphere of being put on display for the commander.

john cups your chin gently, tilting it up to give him access to your mouth.

"ready?" he asks, voice low and soft. when you nod meekly, eyes shy and unable to meet his, he takes a puff of the cigar and blows out the smoke. in turn, you suck it in, delicate lips only milimetres from his. his next words are whispered against your lips. "atta girl."

"enjoy it?" the commanders voice cuts through, a lazy, amused smirk on his lips as he spreads his legs and adjusts. "cuban, brought them with me."

admittedly, you didn't like it all that much, but that's perhaps because you'd gotten so used to the taste of john's cigars. you look back to john, uncertain if your truth is what is being asked of you right now, but you go for it anyway. "it's not as nice as your usual, i think i prefer the maduro."

that gets a chuckle from both men, gabriel's eyes especially burn as he takes a satisfied drag of his light-leafed cigar. "you have her well trained, captain."

you don't miss the proud smile on john's face, yet he urges you back to your feet, steady you on your shaking legs.

"see how you like it from the commander, love." he urges, and it's now gabriel's turn to pat his thigh temptingly.

the newness of the situation, the implication of everything from here on out makes you dizzy, uncertain.

"go on." john speaks once more, and you won't disobey him again.

you wobble over to the american, only to be pulled into his lap and secured over his own growing bulge. "i don't bite princessa, unless you want me to."

he parts your lips with his thumb, his skin tasting like the harsh tobacco as his smokey breath fans across your face. "now open that pretty little mouth for me."

#gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #kinktober #lmao i know nothing about cigars tho fml #anyway me as this reader WHEN????#fml #this probably sucks but who cares

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mychoombatheroomba · 5 months

Text

Still I Can't Escape the Ghost of You

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 43

The night everything changed for him . . . and the night everything changed for you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

CW: More blood/gore, gunshot wounds, stab wounds, death and near-death experiences, suicidal thoughts, all-around angst and terrible cauterization technique (don't try and cauterize a wound with a road flare unless you've got no other choice, gang)

His heart racing, his body tensing. There was a shotgun to Leon’s head. The man behind it was brow-beaten and bloody, standing between Leon and the figure of a little girl watching them impassively.

A little girl whose skin was gray in the glow of the streetlights, one eye already turning a milky white. Leon couldn’t see where she’d been bitten, but it was obvious that she had been.

A child. No older than twelve. And she was going to die.

“Step aside,” Ada ordered. “We need to terminate her before she turns.”

Maybe it was a mercy, but Leon was still horrified at the words, because whatever was going to happen to her, this was still a child.

“Terminate?” the man hissed. “That’s my fucking daughter!”

Ada didn’t lower her gun, nor did the father protecting his daughter. Not until Leon spoke.

“Ada . . . just let them be,” he said, his voice solemn because there was nothing else he could do. He’d fought the monsters back in the police station, and he’d fight whatever was to come, but he couldn’t fight the virus in the girl’s blood. He couldn’t save her from this. He couldn’t stop this from happening any more than the girl’s father could.

He didn’t have help for the man, nor did he have answers for him. All Leon could do was let his heart slowly crater into his stomach as, after a moment, the man lifted his daughter in his arms and took her away. Embracing her as he embraced the inevitable.

“Just give us some privacy.”

The sound of a gunshot moments later nearly made Leon sick, because it shouldn’t have ended like that. And it wouldn’t for anyone else. He would lay down his life before that happened.

So, a plan was formed. A mission, however desperate. Ada would lead him down into the tunnels beneath the city, into the belly of the beast. There, with any luck they would find the people responsible for this. The scientist. The one who’d created this virus, the one they needed to bring to justice.

A scientist . . . and the sample. The virus that started all of this.

And he would trust this woman with him . . . even if her arrival was strange. Even if she wouldn’t show her full face. Even if she avoided so many of his questions. He would trust her because, exhausted and outnumbered as he was, what choice was there?

“We might not make it out,” Ada warned, with genuine concern hidden beneath the smooth veneer of her voice. She was giving him an out.

But Leon shook his head. “Whatever it takes to save this city, count me in.”

He wished he’d known then that all his determination, all the blood he would shed . . . none of it would make a difference.

⧫⧫⧫

Your heart racing, your body tensing. There was a submachine gun to your head. The man behind it was unreadable behind his mask, standing on one side of you, with your Captain behind you.

Reynolds, whose blood-flecked skin still held color and life, even if his eyes were wide with dread. His arm bled, though, crimson dripping from a jagged bite mark that had torn through his fatigues.

Your Captain. The man who’d been your rock to cling to for years. And he was going to die.

“Step aside,” the masked man ordered. “He’s infected. We have to take him out.”

Maybe he was right, but you felt molten as you heard the words, rage boiling over in you because whatever was going to happen, this was your Captain.

“Like hell we do,” you snarled. “We’re not fucking shooting him.”

The masked man didn’t move, nor did the other soldiers with him, but you stood firm. At least until Reynolds spoke.

“It takes a while, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice solemn because there was nothing else he could do. He’d fought the monsters that had become of his men, and you knew he’d fight whatever was to come, but he couldn’t beat the enemy lurking beneath his skin. He couldn’t stop this from happening any more than you could.

You didn’t have help, nor did you have answers for him. All you could do was fight the urge to scream as Simon Reynolds resolved to help as long as he was able. Clinging to his duty while you tried to cling to some hope.

“If it gets that bad, I’ll do it myself.”

The promise had you shaking your head, because it couldn’t end like that. It wouldn’t. You would tear the world apart before that happened.

So, a plan was formed. A mission, however desperate. While the rest of the newly arrived soldiers escorted your men to their transport, to safety, you, Reynolds and the masked man before you would find the one person who might know something about this, the one person who might be able to help. If she was still alive. The researcher, the woman the Spec Ops soldiers had detained, who had warned against all of this when she arrived.

A researcher . . . and the sample. The virus that started all of this.

And you would trust these newcomers . . . even if their arrival was strange. Even if they wouldn’t show their faces. Even if the weapons they used weren’t standard issue. You would trust them because, exhausted and outnumbered as you were, what choice was there?

“Kid,” Reynolds said, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta do this. You can go with the others.” You could get out.

But you shook your head. “Can’t do that, Captain.” You smiled at him, despite it all. “You might need me to carry you.”

You wished you’d known then that all your resolve, all the strength you would conjure up . . . none of it would make a difference.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon had been trained to protect. He reminded himself of that as he descended into the tunnels beneath Raccoon City, his mysterious companion at his side. It didn’t matter what they faced, how sharp the claws or how big the teeth. He would overcome it all. He had to. For what remained of the city he’d vowed to serve, he had to.

So, he fought.

Even a maw of teeth big enough to swallow him whole wasn’t enough to stop him. If there was even a hope that Umbrella could be brought to justice, if the lives lost wouldn’t be for nothing, then Leon would face down the whole world to see it through. So, after surviving the horrors lurking in the sewers, he and Ada pressed on.

But it wasn’t the monsters that finally brought him down.

The scientist wasn’t what Leon expected. He hadn’t thought her to be such a simple-looking woman, his mind conjuring some image of a madman in her place. Instead, it was a woman who had helped create this plague. A wife. A mother.

“Annette Birkin.” Ada’s gun was already trained on the woman. So was Leon’s.

“She’s who we’re looking for?”

The woman stood, calm and composed, staring down the pair.

Ada wasted no time. “We’re here for the G-Virus.”

A scoff. Then, the woman smiled, confident in her conviction. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I’m warning you, Doctor.”

“Oh yeah?”

And then she was running. Leon broke after her, but Ada was faster. She raised her weapon as she rounded the corner-

A series of bangs.

A showering of sparks.

Leon was moving before he could even think of what he was doing.

“Ada!”

He moved because she might die if he didn’t . . .

And he was just fast enough.

⧫⧫⧫

You had been trained for war. You reminded yourself of that as you carved a path through Dorne Base once more, your Captain and a masked soldier at your side. It didn’t matter what you faced, how many of your former friends tried to tear into you. You would get through it all. You had to. For the man who’d guided you for so many years, you had to.

So, you fought.

You let yourself get lost in a single purpose, a single mission. If there was even a chance that the woman in the holding cells could save an ever-weakening Reynolds, then you would move heaven and earth to get to her. So, after obtaining the sample that the soldiers had arrived with, you and your group pressed on.

But it wasn’t the monsters that finally brought you down.

The researcher was more terrified than the last time you’d seen her. The woman who’d tried to warn all of you what was coming - a prophet you’d all chosen to ignore.

“It’s your lucky day,” you hissed to her, unlocking her cell.

The woman - another mystery to you and everyone on base, was frantic to join you when the door slid open.

“Thank god,” she said, looking between you and a now-pale Reynolds.

You wasted no time. “The virus. Is there a cure for it?”

“W-what?” she stammered, her eyes focusing on Reynolds, doubled over now as pain ripped through him. “No. No there’s-”

Her eyes found the red lenses of the gas mask moving towards her. Towards the three of you. You watched as her face paled in recognition. Terror.

And then she was running. You moved after her, but the masked soldier was faster. He grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past him-

A flash of steel.

A wet splattering of blood.

You were frozen in place, trying to understand what you were seeing.

“What are you-”

You tried to move as the knife came at you, because it had just opened a red smile in the researcher’s throat . . .

And you weren’t fast enough.

⧫⧫⧫

The gun went off once. Twice. Three more times.

He was moving, his feet leaving the ground as he jumped, becoming a shield. Protecting. Doing what he had been trying to do all night. Leon barely felt the bullet impact at first, until he and Ada hit the ground and his freshly pierced shoulder screamed in agony. Leon cried out as he landed on the concrete, head spinning as something in his shoulder came out of alignment and slipped where it shouldn’t have been. It was all he could manage because in his twenty-one years of living, he’d never felt pain like this.

He looked up, and wide, dark eyes where a pair of glasses should have been greeted him.

That, and the sound of Ada speaking his name, soft and worried. He barely heard her.

I’m bleeding. That was the only clear thought in his mind. The only thing that mattered as the world blurred and twisted and darkened. As pain washed over and dissolved all other thought. I’m bleeding and I-

He had just enough left in him to murmur a few words, a plea for the woman looking down at him.

“Just go! Stop her before she gets away.”

Darkness took him a moment later.

⧫⧫⧫

The knife went into you once. Twice. Three times.

You were too slow. That was all you could think as your gun remained idle in your hands. Unable to reach for your training or your instincts because this wasn’t happening. You heard more than felt the bone break under the steel, a pathetic sound escaping your lips. It was all you could manage because in your twenty years of living, you had never felt pain like this.

You looked up, and red lenses where eyes should have been were all that greeted you.

That, and the sound of someone screaming your name. The blade coming free of you, spilling blood with it, and then a struggle. Gunfire.

I’m bleeding. That was the only clear thought in your mind. The only thing that mattered as the world blurred and twisted and darkened. As pain washed over and dissolved all other thought. I’m bleeding and I-

You had just enough of you left of you to feel a gloved hand take the virus sample from you and to hear a few words, spoken in a cold voice.

“Target eliminated, sample in hand.”

Darkness took you a moment later.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon awoke in the dark, pained but propped against the wall, something warm draped over him. His arm, his shoulder, he could still feel the pain, but bandages kept the blood in place, wrapped around him masterfully and with great care.

“Ada.”

He hadn’t even felt her dressing his wound, hadn’t felt those hands wrapping him in gauze and then draping her own jacket over his body. He hadn’t seen her leave him there, in pursuit of the woman who did this.

He had to help her. That was what he resolved once his mind was clear enough to think it.

Because she’d taken the time to tend to him. This beautiful, mysterious woman who had kept him alive. Ada, for all her withdrawnness, had saved his life. He would save hers now, if he could.

So he bared his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, groaning in pain as he did. The bullet wound in his shoulder flared as he stood, as he reached for the gun Ada had holstered at his side. He took a steadying breath as he checked his ammo once more, the blade that Marvin had given him, and then he set out into the dark.

Step by painful step.

It may be the last thing he ever did, he knew it, but he had to try.

⧫⧫⧫

You awoke screaming. You thrashed against the floor, something burning and bright pressed against your bleeding belly. The flare was held in shaky, weak hands, a desperate attempt to close bleeding wounds.

“I know kid, I know I know I know, I’m sorry-”

You clung to Reynold’s hand, squeezing it tight enough you thought you might break his bones as he tried to melt your parted flesh back together. There was no time for anything else. Not when the man who did this had gone. Not when Reynolds too bled from a wound at his side, and one of his eyes had already started to pale.

“We have . . . to go after him,” Reynolds said, once the flare was set aside. “We have to . . . stop him.”

Because he’d taken the virus that caused all this. He’d nearly gutted you and shot your Captain. He was no ally, whatever he was, and what few survivors from your base left alive, were with his men now. You knew in your slow-beating heart that their fate would be the same as yours. Unless you did something.

So you bared your teeth and pushed yourself to your feet, a sound escaping you that was more animal than human. The world blurred around you as you stood, as you helped Reynolds to his feet as well. His breath wheezed as you both slung arms around each other, struggling to keep each other up.

Step by excruciating step.

It would be the last thing either of you would ever do, you knew, but you had to try.

⧫⧫⧫

“I’m a liability now.” Ada’s declaration was bitter, and it made Leon’s heart sink. The bandages he’d wrapped around her wounded leg were holding, but they didn’t make it easier for her to walk. “If I’m going to finish this case, you’re the last hope I’ve got.” She was asking him to go on without her. To find the sample they needed as evidence of Umbrella’s crimes - he knew she was right. He knew it was their best bet, but still . . .

“I’m not just gonna leave you here.” He couldn’t. “What if you’re attacked, what if you need help-”

She leaned forward and silenced him, looking him in the eye . . . and his heart stammered as her kiss made him feel alive. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve gotta see this through . . .” a hand on his thigh, “. . . and I want to see you again. I’ve got plenty to live for, trust me.”

Leon held her gaze, conviction growing alongside something else in his heart. He trusted her. He knew she’d be alright, somehow. Something about the look in her eyes. Or the way her lips had felt against his. Could he manage this? Could he do this by himself?

Yes. He had to. For everyone in Raccoon City, he would.

“Okay.” He stood, feeling a strength in himself that he’d never needed before. He ignored the pain in his shoulder, the shifting of torn tissue and cracked bone, and he readied himself for what was to come.

“Leon,” Ada said, stopping him for a moment. “I’m counting on you.”

That fact alone spurred him onward. “I know.”

⧫⧫⧫

“You should . . . you should go.” Reynolds pleaded from his place on the ground, his voice full of pain. The bullet wound in his side seeped blood, just as the poorly cauterized wounds in your belly still did. “Find him. Stop him. I’ll just slow you down.” He was asking you to go on without him. To find the masked man and the sample he’d stolen. But your legs shook beneath you and your vision blurred even now. Even if you could make it on your own . . .

“I’m not . . . just gonna leave you here.” You couldn’t. “Don’t . . . don’t fucking ask me to-”

“Kid,” he stopped and silenced you, looking you in the eye . . . and your heart stopped as you saw a face of death looking back at you. “Go. Forget about me. You’ve . . . you’ve gotta see this through . . .” a weak hand on your shoulder, “. . . you’ve gotta stop him. That’s . . . that’s an order.”

You looked away, because you couldn’t bear that half-dead gaze. Not from him. He was dying. Turning. You could see it. Would you make it further without him? Or would the torn guts in your belly kill you before you even got to the man responsible for all of this? Would you be able to stop him at all?

No. You wouldn’t. You were both as good as dead. So you would both die together.

“Fuck that.” you groaned, one hand pressed to your wound as the other hoisted him up, ignoring the shifting of broken bones and organs and the blood that spilled where it shouldn’t. You pulled your Captain to his feet, because neither of you could move without leaning on each other.

“You’re . . . you’re gonna get yourself killed,” Reynolds protested.

That fact didn’t matter to you then. “I know.”

⧫⧫⧫

No terror could prepare Leon for what he faced. A mess of eyes and teeth and claws that towered over him. Even with his heart hammering and his shoulder aching, he knew what it was he was facing. A husband, a father, and a man consumed by his own creation. A man become a monster.

He’d shattered his own wife’s bones, the way he intended to shatter Leon’s.

Just more prey to hunt and kill.

He couldn’t let himself feel that terror.

All he could feel was determination and focus. He had the sample. He could get it to Ada. Then the FBI could stop this from ever happening again. He clung to the kiss she’d given him.

That only made it sting all the more when the Doctor whispered with labored breath the truth.

He’d fallen for a lie.

One that ended with him staring down the barrel of a gun, a beautiful woman on the other end.

Even with the betrayal, even with the damage this woman could do to the world . . . Leon couldn’t pull the trigger. Neither could Ada. Not when it came down to it. Not even when Leon lowered his weapon, letting himself be all that stood between the woman in front of him and her goal. He would never forget the look in her eyes as she lowered her pistol . . .

Or the look of surprise as another gunshot rang out, piercing a hole straight through her . . .

Or the way the ground trembled as the Umbrella facility began to self-destruct . . .

Or the feeling of them both falling towards darkness.

⧫⧫⧫

No pain could prepare you for what you faced. A mess of bodies, bloodied and limp lay in the snow, dusted by the dying storm. Even as more blood and pain spilled from your poorly cauterized wounds, you knew what it was you were facing. Your men, your friends, your family . . . their faces weren’t like the others. They weren’t a mess of decomposition and rot, they were whole.

They’d executed them all, the way he’d tried to execute you.

Just another loose end to tie up.

You couldn’t let yourself feel that pain.

All you could feel was rage and desperation. He had the sample. He’d killed your men. If you could kill him and destroy that sample, somehow, then maybe this would never happen again. You clung to your Captain, your strength, refusing to let him go.

That only made it sting more when you heard the whirring of helicopter blades.

You’d all fallen for a lie.

One that ended with you bleeding and broken, staring up as a helicopter began to take off in the dying storm.

You fired desperately, you and Reynolds both. It was all shaky aim as the last of the masked men - the one who’d taken the sample and perhaps your life along with it – climbed into the chopper. He was far away, but maybe, just maybe, you could bring him down before he got away. Killing just him might be enough. You would never forget that feeling of desperation . . .

Or the echo of gunfire as his fellows covered him, your Captain using the last of his strength to shield you . . .

Or the heat at your back as charges you didn’t know had been placed were detonated . . .

Or the feeling of falling towards the snow.

⧫⧫⧫

The platform was holding, barely. Leon could feel the metal creaking beneath him, threatening to give way. He heard the clinking of glass, and watched as the vial, the virus sample that this had all been for, fell. It disappeared into the chasm below, vanishing like some sick joke.

He’d failed. He’d been a fool and he’d failed . . . but for one fact.

She was still hanging on.

He needed her to hang on, because this couldn’t be the end.

Even if he knew it was.

Ada looked up at him, her wrist caged in his grasp. Her other arm hung limp at her side, painted red with her own blood.

“Leon-” it sounded more genuine than anything she’d said that night. “Forget it.”

“Shut up - I’ve got you!” he cried, even if there was no point. Still, he tried. He tried, even with his wounded arm, to pull her up. He strained and struggled, but the platform buckled, and they grew ever closer to oblivion. She knew as he did.

“It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t do this-” his arm shook with the strain of holding her and he hoped beyond all hope - he prayed - that he could pull her up. That he could save this one life, when he had failed everyone else.

But as Ada looked up at him, a look of acceptance on her face, he knew that he couldn’t.

“Take care of yourself, Leon.”

Whatever had kept her holding on, whatever strength he’d had to keep her there, she slipped from his grasp.

Then she was falling, and Leon screamed as he reached for her in vain. His fingertips met only air as he watched her fall. Falling and falling until she disappeared into the darkness below. Leon could only lay there on his belly, staring at the nothingness that had taken the woman he’d only just met.

The woman who’d used him.

The woman he might have loved, if things had been different.

The woman he couldn’t save.

⧫⧫⧫

Your base was on fire. You could feel the heat, the lingering flames from the explosions. You heard the slicing of helicopter blades, and watched as the craft took off. The craft and the masked man who’d outplayed you. He and the sample he’d taken disappeared into the dark sky, one final insult to injury.

You’d failed. You’d been a fool and you’d failed . . . and now all you could do was watch as one last life was taken from you.

He was still hanging on.

You needed him to hang on, because this couldn’t be the end.

Even if you knew it was.

Reynolds was doubled over in the snow, his fingers twitching, his breathing ragged. He was shaking, groaning, the ground painted red with his blood.

“Kid-” it didn’t sound like him. It didn’t sound like your Captain. “K- . . . kill . . .”

“Don’t-” you begged, even though you knew it was futile. Even as you pushed your broken, bleeding body up. The fall or the exertion had reopened your wounds, leaving your own blood spilling down your side again. You held one hand there, shaking. The other . . .

“Kill . . .”

“Simon-” the gun shook in your hand, and you hoped beyond all hope - you prayed - that you might reach him. That you could bring him back to you with his name alone.

But as Reynolds looked up at you, his lips pulling back in a snarl, you knew that you couldn’t.

No final words of wisdom. Not this time.

Whatever he’d been holding onto, whatever part of him was left, it slipped from his grasp.

Then he was lunging at you, and you screamed as you fired. Your finger squeezed against the trigger over and over again, even as he tackled you to the ground. Over and over until bits of his skull came loose and he slumped on top of you. You could only lie there on your back, staring at the broken face of the man you’d known for years.

The man who’d guided you.

The man who, for reasons you’d never fathom, had loved you.

The man you’d killed.

⧫⧫⧫

He stumbled to his feet. He didn’t know where he was going, exactly. Only that he’d felt relief when he’d seen Claire’s face on the cameras and heard her voice. “We can make it!” she told him.

The chance to live. He honestly didn’t know if he should even take it. Was it even worth trying at this point? He didn’t know if he could outrun the destruction of the facility or survive the monsters in his path. But he had to try. For Elliot, Marvin, for Kendo and his daughter . . . for Ada. He had to believe he had enough strength to see this through for them. His eyes narrowed into a hard focus one last time and he made his decision.

So, with hope lingering on the horizon, he ran.

⧫⧫⧫

You dragged yourself away. You didn’t know where you were going, exactly. Only that you couldn’t look at him. Only that you’d used all the bullets in your gun and his was empty too.

The promise of death. It was looming over you, and you were all too happy to welcome it. A bullet would have been faster - more preferable. Maybe you could make it back towards the fire to burn with the bodies of your brothers in arms. To be with Rain, David, James, Spence, Sasha and all the rest. Your strength wouldn’t allow that, though. All you managed to do with what you had left was roll onto your back once more, eyes glazing over as you beheld the night sky.

So, knowing your torn belly or the cold would do the work for you, you waited.

⧫⧫⧫

The sky was painted a triumphant gold. Gold like the hair of the child walking alongside him, and the heart of the woman who’d saved her. Claire had done the impossible - she’d saved a life, brought a little girl through hell itself. Claire, who’d managed to make sure she and Sherry could see another sunrise.

And Leon had helped to keep them safe, even if only at the very end. He and Claire had faced down Birkin one last time to save the scientists’ daughter from himself. She’d nearly died, nearly been transformed into something else. Something other.

But here she was, safe with them.

He had made it. It was done. He’d fought, and somehow, he’d survived it all. Now, as birds sang in the morning sky, he could only take in the fresh air. He’d won . . . but he knew that he’d carry more than just the scar of a bullet wound with him.

He took some solace in the warmth of the sun. In the promise of a new day.

A small hand fitted against his palm, the girl smiling up at him and Claire, wrapped in a red leather jacket that was too big for her.

“Long as we stick together,” Leon resolved, “we’ll be fine.”

Because despite it all, they were alive.

He was alive. He shouldn’t have been, but he was.

Alive, but changed, because Leon knew as he, Sherry and Claire walked away from Raccoon City, who he was would be left behind in the ruined streets of Raccoon City. Pieces given to those he couldn’t save, until there was almost nothing left.

Leon was changed, and Sherry and Claire walked with someone entirely new down that lonely road.

He knew only one thing with certainty:

The people who did this had to be stopped.

He would make sure of it.

Whatever it took.

He would stop them.

⧫⧫⧫

The sky was bleeding a rising red. Bleeding just like you, a halo of crimson building beneath you. You knew it wouldn’t be long, now. You couldn’t move anymore, could barely keep your eyes open to see one last sunrise.

You’d be with your friends soon enough. Your mentor. Or you’d be gone into nothingness. Whatever waited for you once your heart stopped, you just hoped that your body would remain still in the snow. You hoped that you wouldn’t somehow become something else. Something other.

You supposed you wouldn’t know.

All you knew was that you were ready. You wanted it to be done. You’d fought, and you’d lost. Now, as you watched the ravens circling overhead, at least maybe you wouldn’t hurt anymore. At least you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of them all with you.

But then a shadow passed over the sun. One that even your fading mind recognized as a person.

A scarred hand reached down for your pulse, and a sharp-featured face contorted in concern. A red beret above you that became all you could really focus on.

A gruff voice broke through the fog. “This one’s still alive!”

Words that brought no comfort.

You were alive. You shouldn’t have been, but you were.

Alive but changed, because you knew as you felt arms carefully lift you from the snow, who you had been was being left in the smoldering embers of Dorne Base. Bled dry with the corpses of your second family.

You were changed, and that morning, Major Jack Krauser carried something entirely different away from the wreckage.

You knew only one thing with certainty:

The people who did this would pay.

You would see to it.

Whatever it took.

You would end them.

⧫⧫⧫

A small room. Leon and one other man were all that occupied it, empty otherwise but for the choice being offered to him.

As if “choice” was even the right word.

Weeks of sleepless nights, of memories, of weighing his gun in his hands . . . and not pulling the trigger for one reason and one reason only.

Sherry.

The girl he and Claire had saved . . . and the one they threatened now.

“We have the authority to do as we please with you. You and that girl.” Leon was still healing. Still struggling to understand what he’d seen, to find some semblance of peace or normalcy again. That didn’t matter to them. Only one thing did. “Bottom line is: you have the experience we’re looking for. So, if you want this to end peacefully, you really have only one choice.”

Choice.

He almost laughed.

No . . . no there was no choice at all. Not for him.

⧫⧫⧫

A small room. You and Krauser were all that occupied it, empty but for the choice being offered to you.

As if “choice” was even the right word.

Months of sleepless nights, of memories, of weighing your gun in your hands . . . and not pulling the trigger for one reason and one reason only.

Revenge.

The thing you’d dreamed of . . . and the opportunity he offered you now.

“You don’t have to decide now. Take the time to get yourself into fighting shape again.” You were done healing, though. You were done trying to rationalize what happened, done trying to banish the thoughts of it from your mind. That didn’t matter to you. Only one thing did. “But if you want to take the fight to the bastards who did this, if you want that chance, come find me when you’ve made your choice.”

Choice.

You almost laughed.

No . . . no there was no choice at all. Not for you.

⧫⧫⧫

You looked at him, and he looked at you. Seeing each other more fully than you ever had, knowing what no one else on this earth knew.

There, in the infirmary, with the radio playing, you and Leon Kennedy finally knew each other. And all either of you could think to do as you took one another in, all the loss, the scars, all of it, was to reach out. His arms fell around you like they belonged and yours settled around him like home.

You clung to each other as song after song played, the air heavy with the names of those you couldn’t save. Elliot. Marvin. Robert. Emma. Ada. Rain. Spence. David. James. Sasha. Simon. Countless others. Too many souls. Too much weight to bear alone.

So, in that moment, you shouldered it together.

It was why you cared so much for Leon, you realized. Because he was always willing to carry you.

It was why you were terrified for him.

It was why you would raze the world for him.

It was why you loved him-

You loved him.

“Huh.” You didn’t mean for it to escape you.

“What?” he asked, and you had to swallow down too many emotions at once.

Luckily, as Leon pulled away from you, there was a good excuse playing you could use as cover. “Nothing, just . . . haven’t heard this song in a while.” That much was true.

“What has happened to it all?”

“Crazy, some'd say . . .”

Leon looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you, but whatever his suspicions, he took a moment to listen to the song too. “It’s no Spice Girls,” he said, when he finally turned back to give you a gentle smile.

“Where is the life that I recognize?”

“Gone away.”

You laughed just as softly, studying his face. His eyes, the light shade of their blue, the sharpened cut of his cheekbones, the little mole next to his nose and the ones on his neck . . . taking in every detail because you knew better than anyone you might not get a better chance. “No . . .” you agreed, deciding to give him another piece of you, “it’s better, actually. One of my favorites.”

One you’d listened to with a kind, wise-eyed Captain a few times in another life.

“But I won't cry for yesterday”

“There's an ordinary world”

“Somehow I have to find . . .”

Leon’s smile widened as he listened, and he nodded his approval. “It’s a good one.”

“And as I try to make my way”

“To the ordinary world”

“I will learn to survive.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling somehow heavy and weightless at the same time. You would never be free of what happened . . . but for today, for this moment, you weren’t alone. “It is.”

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Chapter Index

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #raccoon city #ada wong #HUNK

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rosemary-morgan · 1 year

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Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 7) 18+

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

Chapter seven is online 🖤 You have been with me through so many chapters now, suffering along with the characters. Y'all are so great! Thank you for your support, that means so much to me. You have no idea 🖤

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👉Read Part 1 /Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Summary: Where happiness is, the devil is not far away. And he sends his demons to torment those who have found happiness...

Warning: Trigger Warning! Rape! Read at your own risk! Huge angst alert!

Words: 1574

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 7) 18+

It was very late at night and you were still lying wide awake in your bed. Outside it was storming and raining like crazy. It was always uncomfortable for you when thunderstorms were coming; you just felt uncomfortable. Every time it rumbled, you winced, and you could never understand how some people could see that as relaxation. Javier was such a person who could fall asleep very well during thunderstorms.

Javier had been gone for a week now and of course, you missed him. But on the other hand, you were very proud of him, because he worked really hard to earn his money and to start a new life together you needed every cent. The dress you had made for Mrs. Hantoon had brought you good money and she had been so enthusiastic about your work that she had told her friends all about your skills and you could be sure to get more requests soon.

Since there was no point in tossing and turning in bed to find sleep, you get yourself up out of bed. You turn on the light by lighting an oil lamp, and put on your robe before leaving the bedroom. You felt the need to eat something small. Sometimes hunger came at night and you couldn't do anything to get rid of that feeling; or rather, you didn't want to do anything about it. What was wrong with satisfying your hunger? You still had some oatmeal cookies in the tin and you were looking forward to enjoying them with a cup of tea. You were a bit surprised when you saw a burning oil lamp on the dining table. Have you forgotten about it? This was not typical for you, but on the other hand you were alone in this house.

However, you noticed a strange smell that you could not inhale at all and a strange feeling came over you immediately.

You carefully placed the oil lamp in your hand on the table and carefully observed your surroundings. Something told you to leave this house immediately, but it was already too late.

You stopped, transfixed, when suddenly dark voices spoke to you and the shadows slowly formed into two men. Two strange men you had never seen before. Instantly you recoil and the only thought you have right now is the shotgun hanging on the wall that was within your reach. But you knew you had to be careful because these strangers were also armed and you would have a bullet between your eyes faster than you would reach your shotgun.

"What are you doing in my house?"

"We're just here for Mister Escuella."

"Javier? What business do you have with my man?"

They both laughed. They were the same men who had watched Javier and you from a safe distance some time ago. Cole was waiting outside for his men. Javier was not the priority right now; Angel Eyes wanted you, for he knew that Javier would come to him once you were his prisoner. Still, he wouldn't make it quite so easy for Javier to find you...

"There is someone, including us, who has unfinished business with Javier. To find you here is a great pleasure for us."

"You better go now."

But the men were not intimidated by you, they were more amused at your attempt to force them out of the house.

"We don't take orders from women."

Henry, the big, robust man who looked like a bear, approached you and you could smell strong alcohol on his breath coming out of his mouth. You instantly felt sick.

"Sam, go to Cole. I'll be with you in a minute with this fine woman."

"What, you want her all to yourself?"

"Get the fuck out of here! I will fuck this whore's pretty pussy good! I've got priority! You can have her afterwards!"

"No!" you scream at the men in panic and horror.

"Now go!"

Reluctantly, Sam left, unable to argue his case as he was last in the gang hierarchy and so he had no choice but to listen to Henry and reluctantly left the house.

You didn't care what would happen if you reached for your shotgun now, because you wouldn't let those bastards violate you! But Henry immediately reached for you, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. He sets you down on the dining table and you instantly fight back as he pushes himself between your legs. He wastes no time in pushing your nightgown over your legs. Immediately you hit him and scratched his face, which made him very angry. Without warning he hit you in the face, pressing your entire body on the wooden table and you scream aloud.

"Don't touch me! NO!"

You were scared and you panicked, because this man would rape you and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Hold still, little bitch!"

Another slap and the pain almost made you go numb.

"No... no..."

As he forcefully penetrated you, you screamed in pain and you couldn't believe what just was happening. This man was brutal and your whole body stiffened. He got what he wanted, yet you tried to escape him, but he kept pulling you back against him.

"You dirty bastard! Stop it!"

You instantly remembered the oil lamp that was placed on the table, just a few centimeters away from you and you tried to reach for it, over and over again, but with each of his brutal thrusts you were pulled towards him again.

"Yes, you like that, don't you?! Does Javier fuck you that well?! Whore!"

You manage to grab the oil lamp and hit him right in the face with it, whereupon your tormentor cries out in pain, because you just burned half his face. The one moment where he lets go of you is enough for you to get your shotgun and you didn't hesitate, but you knew it wasn't loaded. Still, you managed to intimidate him with it. He remained standing on the spot as you threatened him with a look of rage.

"Get out of here, you bastard. Or I'll blow your brain to pieces!"

But everything was about to go wrong for you tonight because, in the next moment, another man entered your home. It was Cole and immediately you aimed at him too, but he wasn't so easily to fool.

"Miss."

He took off his hat at the greeting and you could only shake your head as this behavior was absolutely inappropriate and ridiculous.

"Henry, what did you do to that lady?"

"What?! That fucking whore! Look at my face! I'll kill her!"

"You will do nothing of the sort. Calm down."

Cole was calm, relaxed. He was a man who was cold, who had no compassion for others. He always did a job cleanly and without detours.

"Miss, put the gun down before I'm forced to shoot you."

"GET OUT! YOU BASTARDS! OR I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!"

"We both know your shotgun isn't loaded."

Cole was very sure of himself. He pulled off his fine leather glove as he approached you and you knew you wouldn't get out of this desperate situation...

♦♦♦♦

"Javier, thank you for your help. You did a fantastic job!"

"Thank you, Mister Hazard."

"George. Just call me George."

The man's sympathetic smile was infectious and made Javier return it. He really couldn't have picked a better boss.

It was just before sunset when the two men took another walk down to the lake.

"Ah, I could use a good beer right about now. How about you, Javier?"

"Yeah, sounds good!"

"Let's head on over to Billy's then."

Javier and George enjoyed the sunset for a moment longer. It was quiet and peaceful around them.

"George?"

Javier gazed out into the lake, also looking at the sky, which was turning the most beautiful shades of red as the sun slowly set. Leaning against the wooden railing, he relaxed.

"Huh?"

"I still wanted to thank you."

George didn't know why or for what, so he looked at him a little confused at first.

"For what, Javier?"

"For clearing my head. But also for taking me in, giving me a chance to start a new life."

But George just smiled and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"Don't mention it, Javier."

Real life was just beginning for Javier and you, and he would do anything so you could have a happy life, too. And who knew if you wouldn't become parents again? The desire was deeply rooted in Javier, but that was a very sensitive subject for both of you...

It was still dark when Javier saddled his horse in the early morning hours and started his journey home. He wanted to be with you as soon as possible. With a smile on his lips, he thought of you and he couldn't wait to hold you in his arms. It occurred to him that he could get you another gift, because he had earned really well for his last job and he wanted to make you happy. Maybe a big bouquet of red roses? And something sweet to go with it? And another beautiful necklace? In Blackwater he would surely find what he was looking for in jewelry! Javier smiled a little, because he simply enjoyed making you happy. He would have some time to think of something nice.

Javier didn't even suspect what terrible thing had happened...

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #javier escuella #javier escuella x female reader #female reader #y/n reader #drama #angst #writers on tumblr #my fanfictions

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purelyfiction · 2 years

Text

Small Doses - 2

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader | Part 1 |

Summary: After a very spontaneous weekend full of unpredicted characters, Knockout returns to work - only for the same character to greet her as well as a whole host of problems that follow him.

Word Count: 7,003 words

Content Warning: This story will have TopGun: Maverick plot line elements to it and will possibly spoil the movie for you. Please be aware. This - and all of my stories - is 18+. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older and that any content you come across is by your own discretion. || HEY THERE’S SMUT DOWN THERE SO YOU BETTER BE 18!!! (unprotected piv (don’t be hangman - use protection pals), fingering, light bondage, spanking, more really hot and reckless nonsense)

Author’s Note: um... so hey! long time no see i know, i know - life has been crazy and hard to keep up with and I haven’t been able to finish up this chapter. It’s been driving me up a wall and giving me the worst writers block. But!!! Y’all can thank @callsignthirsty because she single handedly brought it back to life for y’all. i’m getting back on the proverbial horse so to speak and will hopefully be getting more regular about my writing. I missed these two and all of y’all so I hope you’re ready for more Knockout and Hangy :)))

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You had to take a day to get your sights re-centered after the spontaneity of running into Hangman at the Hard Deck.

In fact you’d been so distracted, even Amelia had something to say when you’d picked her up that day.

“You’re being weird,” she instigates from the passenger seat - a spot she rarely gets to sit in since it's usually the three of you and you are always in shotgun.

“Am not,” you retort, glancing at her before looking back to the road.

“Your shirt is on inside out.” Frazzled, you glance down to see the seams of the shirt you’re wearing - the telltale sign of an inside out shirt.

You nod and sigh. “So it is.” A clearing of your throat comes as the teenager tries again.

“So what’s the deal? Is it work? You got some big secret mission you can’t tell us?” The spitting image of Penny starts tearing into you before she gasps. “It’s a boy.”

“It is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too!”

“I broke the lamp in my room,” you confess. Amelia’s face stretches, a hand covering her mouth.

The reality was, you couldn’t give a shit about the lamp right now. Or the fact that you technically hadn’t broken it — Jake had.

Jake had done a lot of damage this weekend.

“Mom is gonna lose her sh-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head.

After losing fifty bucks, the lamp in an old shoebox under your bed is the furthest conversation topic you and Amelia focus on. Conversation shifts and the weekend goes on without a hitch.

Until you’re at the base, about to enter a conference room with Cyclone and Warlock at the head of the table. Receiving word that you are sought out by both the Admiral and Rear Admiral puts you in a bit of a tailspin. The entire walk to the conference hall has you tracing your steps, wondering if you’d made a huge error. You take a centering breath before opening the door. You’re seemingly interrupting a conversation with a third-party, which makes you pause in your step, hand still on the doorknob. Warlock clears his throat before redirecting the discussion.

“Which is why we’ve decided to bring you a second set of eyes.” You smile at the man standing at the foot of the table as you finish your step. Apparently, this was also your conversation too. As Bates begins to introduce you, you turn and direct a respectful nod to him.

“Meet Lieutenant Commander Benjamin, callsign, Knockout. In turn, I introduce Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign: Maverick.” The brunette gives you a smile and the small glint of recognition that dots your memory begins to expand when you realize how stiff he’s become. And for good reason. Your brain starts into a montage of discussions between you and Penny while you were about to embark to TOPGUN for the first time. How she’d met a pilot that ended up teaching at Miramar shortly after his tenure there and how every now and then she’d run into him. Amelia then informed you, when she was old enough, that every time he flew into town they’d end up picking up where they left off and it was a vicious cycle.

The same old flame that Penny kept reginiting is your co-instructor.

You retrain your focus to hear more about the mission at hand, learning that you’ll have a month or so to get every aviator in shape. Seems like a tight timeline but you’ve learned not to argue with Simpson, seeing as he is pretty rigid. The two admirals then instruct you to meet them in the hangar in the next fifteen minutes.

Maverick joins you as you walk towards the respective hangar. “So… Lieutenant Commander,” he speaks up. “That’s… a big deal for your age,” Pete begins as you step with his stride, sunglasses perched on your nose.

“Yes. I’m incredibly proud of it.” You keep conversation short for now, primarily due to the fact you’re trying to get into your teaching mode.

“As you should be.” Mitchell is quiet for a few steps before piping up again: “Benjamin. You wouldn’t happen to be related-”

“Yes. I would.” You watch from behind bronze lenses as he meets your gaze and nods. “I also know far too much about your reputation, Captain,” you warn as the contents of the hangar become clearer. Pete shuts up as you get within earshot of the group, walking into the metal skeleton of the hangar above you as Bates finishes Maverick’s introduction. The older of the two of you starts his soliloquy of sorts, leaving you to look over the faces of the group. As you do, you begin to recognize each of them by name.

You’d met all these people at the Hard Deck on Saturday-

“It’s my pleasure to introduce my co-instructor, Lieutenant Commander Benjamin, callsign Knockout.”

In the past five months, there had only been one day you’d been nervous to take on the task of teaching at TOPGUN. That’d been day one.

And today, as you lock eyes with unmistakable green ones.

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The dismissal of class has you nearly darting out of the hangar but not quickly enough. At least, not fast enough to avoid Hangman’s voice.

“Lieutenant Commander.” You keep walking.

“Benjamin.” Four more steps -

“Knockout.” Finally, you fold, stopping and turning to look at him. Jake’s hands are out at his sides, a look of ‘what the hell’ on his face.

“Yes, Seresin?” You’re careful to keep a professional boundary between you, hoping it’s drawn clearly enough for him to catch on. It takes a moment but his expression twists as he clears his throat.

“When were you going to tell me you got a promotion?” It’s not the question you’re expecting out of his mouth, but once it’s there, you struggle with an answer.

“You… never asked.” A shrug as you look around you to make sure the coast is clear. “We… need to discuss a few things.” The reminder is clear and he nods in agreement.

“Yes. We do.” Jake drops to a whisper: “My place… I’ll text you the address.” A nod and he stands upright before you dismiss him, letting him move at his rushed pace back to base, his shoulder grazing your own as he swiftly departs from the airfield. You follow his pace to head home, to freshen up and regroup.

After a quick change and a rinse off in the shower, you grab the keys to your Jeep and give some excuse to Amelia as you run out. Penny is at the bar, so you’re grateful that the young girl is finally old enough to be left at home alone. Climbing into the vintage baby blue vehicle, you turn the engine over as you enter the address Hangman sent to your phone.

You pause, seeing the last message in your chat history.

Seresin: Happy Birthday, KO. Any plans for the day?

Benjamin: Not many, but that’s fine LOL

Then he’d called.

The rest of the chat was similarly structured: two or three bubbles on each of your birthdays. A rouge message for a holiday here and there.

Shaking the sullen feeling spreading through your chest, you shift gears. Soon after, you’re throwing the phone onto the spare seat next to you, as you pull away from the curb and head in the direction provided by the robotic voice coming from your phone.

As you pull into the apartment parking lot, you realize: he never called. He said he would, as he’d slipped out your window, but he didn’t. It’s only been two days, so maybe you shouldn’t hold it against him. After all: here you were, at his apartment.

Four flights of steps later, you’re knocking on the door of 4B, rocking on your heels. You’d changed into the first thing you’d seen in your room, which had happened to be a pair of leggings and a flowing sports top. Paired with the sneakers, you looked like you’d gotten lost on the way to the gym. When the door finally swings open, Jake has already walked away from the door and made himself at home on his couch. With a light scoff, you enter the apartment, shutting the door behind you and watching him as he leans onto his hand that’s propped on his thigh.

“So this teacher thing is… a new development?” he questions, meeting your eyes as you nod.

“No…yes? I mean I’ve been teaching since I got here…” Your answer doesn’t seem to be enough to stop the inquisition of questions from him.

“You said you’ve been here for months. Why didn’t you tell me? First the promotion and now this? You mean to tell me you didn’t know about this? I seriously doubt that.” he gripes, leaving you standing in the entryway of his apartment, mouth gaping as you avoid his eyes.

“No, Hangman, I didn’t know this was a thing until this morning. They pulled me from my current assignment for this. Now would you stop asking questions for like,” a pained sigh leaves you as you take the far end of the couch, “two seconds? That’s all I need, two measly seconds.” As you fall to the couch, Jake stands and rotates in the direction of the kitchen.

He tugs the fridge door open, grabbing a glass bottle from the door. By the time you can even think to ask for one, he’s already got the top of it off and is drinking it. You give a less than amused glare toward him before prying it from his hands once he sits down.

“Thanks for the beer,” you sneer before taking a swig. Hand frozen in a drinking motion, he looks at you with a scoff.

“You’re welcome,” he groans as he stands back up to retrieve another. “So. Lieutenant Commander.” There’s a song-like tone to his words, leaving you to look at him with one eye as he sits in front of you on his coffee table, opening up the beer bottle with the class ring on his hand. You pause the sip you’re taking to watch as the cap falls to the cheap wood and begins to spin on an axis until it falls on its face — leaving you looking at Jake, face to face.

“Nice trick,” you mumble as he takes a swig of his own beer, but continues on his thought process.

“You gonna talk, since, that’s why we’re here?” He leans back on the table, a large hand gripping its side. You finally can take a second to notice what he’s wearing: a pair of gray heathered sweatshorts and a cotton graphic tee. The shorts are riding up ever so slightly, showing evidence of the California sun on his skin in the form of swim-trunk tan lines. A small bit of gunmetal pokes out from beneath his collar — dog tags. Can’t say he’s not consistent. The metal is a sharp contrast to the overall comfortable aesthetic. There’s something softening about seeing him like this. The last time must have been in his dorm back in Nevada…

“Okay, okay. What are we doing about Penny’s lamp?” you try, just as you start sipping at your beverage, seeing his face twist from unamusement to a shake of his head, a small smirk on his lips as you start to giggle with the bottle on your lips.

“This again? She must really fuckin’ love that lamp, Kody,” he snickers and you shrug.

“It’s vintage, I don’t know what to say.” You finally reach forward and set the glass down on the table, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Obviously, I think you know-”

“Did your parents raise you in a damn barn?” Jake scolds, grabbing a plastic coaster at the end of the table, only to wiggle it in your face, picking up the bottle and slipping the disc under it before setting it back down. “Coasters, LC. Coasters.”

Your jaw drops with mock surprise as an astonished laugh leaves you. “Oh I see. IKEA street tables that you saved from the landfill get love and care but Penny’s Tiffany lamp gets shoved under my bed.”

“I am offended you think I would subject my apartment to street trash.” Jake tsks you before leaning forward. “Ten bucks on Craigslist. Target Exclusive table.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh, of course. That makes it so much better.”

He smirks. “I like to think so.”

Finally, you begin trying to tackle the difficult conversation that’s waiting for the both of you. “In all sincerity, what happened Friday night… it can’t happen again. Not with work being the way it is now.”

The blonde tilts his head with a look of feigned confusion. “Really? I thought the teacher-student thing would’ve been right up your alley. We can try a nurse and doctor routine if that suits your fancy.” He’s leant on his knees now, a wild smirk on his face. You give him a disgruntled look and he sits up again. “Really, Kody, it’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it.” He lets the alcohol hit his lips as you sigh.

“It is Jake. This could be detrimental to my, hell, to both of our careers, which is why it can’t happen again.”

Jake is grabbing your drink before you finish speaking and pressing it into your hand with a shake of his head.

“Who’s gonna know? It’s after hours at the end of the day, so why should they care? And hey, we got through bootcamp without a problem, didn’t we?” he asks with a small cheers of his beer against yours before he sips it.

Your stomach drops when he asks the question, encasing you in ice.

Jake doesn’t give you a chance to respond, let alone get too in your head about what he’s just said. He sets his own beer down — on a coaster of course — a cold hand landing on one of your thighs, a warm one on the other. “But, I get your concern.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his statement.

“Really?” You lean back further into the couch as he nods. “I guess that settles it then. Right?”

“Yep.” Jake simply replies, his focus no longer on the conversation, which is clear as his fingers start to run along the elastic fabric of your leggings.

“We agree… we can’t sleep together while this is going on,” you try again, a grip of his hand changing your tune slightly as you finish your sentence.

“Absolutely. Couldn’t agree more.”

You find it hard to believe as he shifts to your side of the couch, lips pressing against your neck.

“Jake. I’m trying to have an adult conversation about this,” you warn, but your body is already betraying you as his grip trails up your sides, carefully pulling you closer.

“Oh, I know, keep going, I’m listening.” It certainly seems that way as he continues to tongue at the spots he’s been messing with along your neck.

“Jake,” you huff, hoping that you don’t sound as breathless as you’re beginning to feel, “come on.”

“Come on and what?”

“You know what.” You can feel the smirk on his lips as his breath trails along your skin — silently taunting you despite the fact you can’t see his features.

“Come on and get on with it? Or, come on and stop?”

“The second one.” As you answer both of his questions, his hands are moving to your hips and guiding you backwards, further and further until you’re flat on your back on his couch.

“Then say it.” He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips and you lean into it before you can stop yourself. “Tell me to stop, Kody.” You’re following his lips as he pulls away further, dark eyes meeting yours.

Your jaw is slacked, your breathing heavy, chest moving at double its normal rate. Words fail you, and while you’re trying to think of something, anything, to give a solid, rational reason — he returns to the spot under your jawline.

“Because, you see, Kody–” the words are hard to make out with his lips latched to your skin, tongue glazing over every spot as he drifts along “–I don’t think you want me to stop.” His hands begin to roam from their spot on your waist. “No, no, I think… that you want me to touch you… to keep you under me as long as I want. To get rid of every important thought in that pretty brain of yours — forget the world… work… everything.” There’s a near hiss to the sentence, so low and sultry it sends a shiver up your spine. “But I need to hear you say it, first.”

His fingers dip below the waist of your leggings, but they freeze there as he sits and listens. Your mind tries to work through the white noise, the consistent bah-bum bah-bum of your heart clawing up your throat until it’s reverberating in your head and making it hard to string together a coherent set of words.

Jake’s lips curl into a smile that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Baby, I mean it. You just say the word and I'll do all the thinking for ‘ya. I'll be in charge of making the decisions. Make you feel good. How's that sound?” Although patronizing, it flips a switch in your mind.

You aren’t the lead for this assignment — Maverick is. He makes the hard decisions. He leads the lessons. If no one knew about you and Hangman… nothing would change.

So really, what would it hurt?

From above you, Jake retreats a hand from your torso to bring it to his mouth, mockingly holding a radio receiver, and making an intercom noise. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. The cabin doors are closing and we're about to take off to pound town, so if you would like to get off the plane, this is your last opportunity to do so.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes, so you’re doing the former and knock your knee against his in a swift upward motion as he hovers above you. He looks down at you expectantly. “I can’t believe you used pound town in a sentence.” Your tone comes off as slightly disgusted, yet Hangman tilts his head.

“Gotta say something fast, because flight crew is about to close the cabin door for the taxiway.” You roll your eyes. Can’t believe he’s doubling down on the pound town thing. Then he leans in close, husks against your ear: “Do you not want me to tie you up and wrap your thighs around my ears?”

You groan, caught between annoyance and want at the mental image he paints with those words. “Fuck yes, why didn’t you lead with that?” Finally, you reach up and pull his head down to level with yours, his lips feverishly capturing yours as you kick off your shoes. His fingers quit teasing at the waist of your leggings and tug them from your hips, carelessly tossing the fabric somewhere — out of sight, out of mind.

His lips cascade down your neck to your collarbone, exposed by your slouchy top. Your casual outfit is making this process of getting you out of your clothes so much quicker for him and he isn’t complaining.

“Can you” a kiss “wear this” a nip “more” a lick “often? I’ll have you naked in seconds and it's so efficient,” he hums along your skin, kisses sneaking between words.

“Why are you still talking?” you lament in response.

Propped up on his knees with his hands caressing the exposed skin of your sides, Hangman gives you a hard look. “This coming from the woman who said this was a bad idea,” he sneers.

You’d roll your eyes, but it’s true. “I stand by that,” you repeat, defending your previous position even as green eyes turn mischievous and his hands come to grip your waist.

“Actually, you’re lying under me,” he hums, a gasp leaving you as he presses your torsos closer together. “Kinda’ defeats the statement.”

“What? You’ve never chased a bad idea before?” you tease. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You keep saying this is a bad idea.”

“Shut up, Seresin.”

“Can do, LC.” You watch his smirk stretch as his fingers undo the tie from his shorts. He pulls the braided string free and presents you with his palm. You raise an eyebrow in question. What does he want? A medal? “Hands,” he instructs. You lift your arms and he takes each wrist gently in his one hand. Dilated jade eyes meet yours, and you find yourself waiting on his next instruction with baited breath. “You have a word?”

A safe word, of course. It’s genuinely been so long since you’ve needed to have a safe word that it had completely skipped your mind. But within a split second you have one. “Nevada.”

Hangman stops short, cord slack where he'd been trying to figure the best way to wrap your wrists. When his eyes meet yours with a nod, the smallest smile flickers over his features. “Nevada it is.” Jake returns to the task of tying the cotton string around your wrists.

You watch him intently, when an idea pops into your head. “Always prepared, huh?” you ask, mentally cheering as Hangman takes the bait, a prideful smirk splitting his face.

“Of course, gotta be ready for anything.”

You mirror his smirk as he falls into your trap. The only thing better than Hangman in your bed — “And you call Rooster a boy scout.” — is an irritated Hangman in your bed. You watch with glee as his face falls and he pulls your restraints tighter until the braided string burns against your skin and your wrists are bound in front of you.

“Shut up, Benjamin.” It’s grumbled under his breath as he puts the final touches on a knot against your skin. You stay quiet for a moment as he finishes, tucking the strings away before looking him dead in the eye as you test your bindings.

“Make me.”

Hangman smirks and pulls his shirt from his shoulders before tossing it to the floor with your leggings. Instead of the witty repartee you’ve come to expect, he readjusts you on his sofa to give himself more room to work with. Then, without giving you a second to breathe, he crouches between your legs and pulls your underwear from your hips. You inhale sharply as his breath ghosts over your slick folds, now exposed to the cold air of his apartment, but he doesn’t make a move to close the distance. No. He lets you relax first. Then he pounces.

Your back arches as your hips try to simultaneously jump away from and into the warm press of his tongue, your lips parting in a sultry noise that has Hangman smiling. His lips are slick with your arousal, pupils expanding to overtake the verdant green of his eyes. “I don’t think I will,” he says with another lick, this one barely brushing your clit and you jolt. “I think I like it much better when I can hear you.”

As Hangman makes good on his promise and wraps your legs around his head, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. It tastes like his coconut chapstick, blended with the slightly stale taste of hops from your spontaneous happy hour — but the thought barely registers, because this time, Hangman doesn’t pause before he’s on you.

It’s almost instantaneous how your body reacts to him. Hips jolting, bound hands attempting to reach out to him — failing, of course. The thought of having your hands bound seemed so sexy while they were free, but you’re beginning to regret the makeshift bind now that your fingers itch to lock into his hair. To push and tug and encourage him with each lap of his sinful tongue. Instead, you rock against him only to whine when he shifts back and a strong hand presses your hips into the couch. It would be hot if it wasn’t so frustrating, the sudden lack of friction makes you dizzy and a light groan slips from you before you can try to bottle it up.

You feel like soda that’s been shaken up. You want to stretch out your arms, to dig your nails into the cushions above you and scream as the electric tingle spreads through you until you’re ready to burst. As it is, all you can do is clench your fists to secure yourself for the pending wave. With your wrists locked together it only boosts your temptation to grab something. Your inner thighs are already pressed so tightly against Jake’s sharp jawline, it doesn’t seem possible for them to squeeze even further. Inevitably, there’ll be bruising, that you’re absolutely sure of. You clamp down harder anyway, grabbing at him any way you can and your back arches, which really speeds things up. In response, Jake’s grip on you tightens and he pulls your hips towards himself as they instinctively try to jump away.

“Where ya goin’, darlin’?” It’s muffled by the curves of your skin but dripping in promise, dark eyes glancing up at you with a devious grin to match. “I ain’t done with you.” He licks a fat strip up your cunt and smacks his lips. “Now, be a good girl and cum on my face.” The words go straight to your gut, forcing a strangled noise out of you as Hangman doubles down on his efforts, your thighs quivering where they’re still pressed to his ears. Your shoulders rock against the couch under you, barely keeping a constant pattern in your breathing as your entire body is set ablaze. Large hands smooth over your thighs as you come down, a gentle effort to calm the jittering motion as warm strokes of his tongue work to clean you up. Finally, he’s patting one of them, trying to pry his head from your grip. “Not so tight, baby,” he keens, pulling himself up onto his knees, a hand moving up to wipe across his lips, only to caress his jaw in feigned pain. Your breath is returning to you after its jolting disappearance mere seconds before, a slight laugh leaving you. “I thought you said earmuffs?”

He scoffs before twisting his head in an attempt to crack his neck. “Yeah, earmuffs not a fuckin’ vice grip.” A hand pushes through his hair, an attempt to reset himself, like a bird preening his feathers. ”It’ll be in the New York Times headlines tomorrow,” he cracks, before annunciating each word with a flash of his hand: “Pilot Dies Doing What He Loves Best.”

You let a roll of your eyes follow your miffed expression. “What, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

You don't feel his hand as it sneaks its way between your thighs, but you know something is coming when his lips curl into that infuriating smirk. ”A finger, maybe,” he huffs, said finger sliding in with ease, before he crooks it up against a sensitive spot within you. “Besides, I thought we’d established last time that this–” his finger retreats “–is mine.” With a heavy hand, he plunges in again, forcing your hips to jolt up at the sharp movement. The waning oversensitivity. You let out a whine. “Isn’t it, darlin’?”

“I dunno,” you hum, watching a questioning expression flit over his face, “you might have to remind me.”

He huffs, his hand withdrawing just as quickly as it had appeared. “Well, now you’re just asking for trouble.” Hangman curls two fingers around your bindings and pulls you up until you’re almost chest to chest, only your bound wrists between you. You smirk, leaning in to close the distance between your lips, teeth clicking around air where you’d expected to find Hangman’s bottom lip.

Fingers curl around your chin as Hangman chuckles. “Bad girls don’t get kisses, Kody,” he taunts. In the next instant, he’s got your knees on the floor and the rest of you bent over the same damn coffee table he’d been boasting about earlier. Before you can say anything smart, a hand comes down on your ass and you jump, hip bones smashing against the edge of the table. “They get spanked,” he says and you can hear the satisfaction coloring his words, feel it in the way his palm rubs over your hot skin. “So what d’you say? You ready to apologize?”

“For what?”

“That mouth, for one.”

You roll your eyes even though you know Jake can’t see it. “You love my mouth.” You yelp as his hand comes down on your other cheek.

“Oh, I do,” he agrees, “but it keeps getting you in trouble.” Your thighs tense when his hand disappears from your skin. “So what do you say?”

You huff, giving in if only so that your ass won’t be too sore to fly the next day. “What am I apologizing for?”

“Take your pick,” Jake drawls, hands smoothing up your spine and lips brushing over the red splotches on your asscheeks. “Calling me a bad idea.” He is. “Trying to bite my lip off. Insulting my coffee table.”

“You want me to apologize to your street table?”

“Target exclusive.” A sharp nip to reddened skin. “Sorry it doesn’t have a name like Penny’s ugly lamp. See, apologizin’ isn’t so hard.”

Your forehead thunks against wood veneer. “I’m sorry I was mean to your coffee table.”

Hangman hums. One of his hands trails over the knobs of your spine until calloused fingertips whisper around your cunt, the skin tacky with a mixture of his drying spit and your arousal. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Bite me.” You regret your words instantly, but instead of biting you, Hangman merely grazes your skin with his teeth.

“Next time,” he says, scooting closer to you until the hot line of his cock nestles along your cunt, rutting against you in a tease of what you hope is still to come. Then, absentmindedly: “I wonder if I could fuck some manners into you.”

Your shoulders bunch in a shrug. “Worth a shot.”

One of Hangman’s hands plants itself near your head, his other helping to guide himself into you. “That’s my girl.” But he stops with the fat head of his cock pressed to your slick folds. “Now ask me nicely.”

“Jake,” you whine, pressing your hips back but only succeeding in driving yourself a little more insane.

“Come on, baby. Use your words.”

You turn your head to get a look at him over your shoulder, hot cheek pressed against the stupid coffee table. “Please fuck me stupid, Jake,” you groan, half from exasperation. “Need it. Feel so empty.”

Hangman leans over you until his chest presses against your back and leaves a lingering kiss on your cheek. Your jaw goes slack when he finally pushes in. “That’s it, baby,” he groans against your ear before hiding his face in your neck, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him. “Taking me so well. Always so good for me.”

“Fucking move, Jake,” you curse. A moment later, the hand by your head shifts to gather your hair at the base of your neck, only for Hangman to use it to arch your back slightly, lips to your ear.

“Nicely, Kody.” You outright moan at the display of domination and go slack in his grasp. “Don’t you want to be good for me?”

“Please, Jake.” You swallow to wet your dry throat, lashes fluttering to brush against your cheeks. “I’m sorry I made fun of your street table, but I’d like it a lot more if you fucked me over it.”

“Knew you’d come around,” Jake says as he lowers you back to the table, but you’re to the point where you just hope you cum. You don’t have to worry about that, though. Not with Jake. He may have left all of the others hanging, but never you. At least, not in this regard. “It’s a great table.”

Hangman lets go of your hair, but that doesn’t stop you from throwing your head back when he locks onto your g-spot with an eager thrust. “So good!” And you’re hardly aware of anything except the way his body plays yours like a fiddle, but Jake can take your answer however he likes - he could take it to hell with him so long as he doesn’t stop. So long as he stays stretched over you and inside of you. His voice in your ears, and ambrosial taste on your tongue.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he grunts, wrapping his hand around the edge of the coffee table for more leverage to fuck into you. “Thought you could just quit this? Thought I’d let this pussy go?” Your only answer is a drawn out moan. History would say yes, but fuck you’ve never been happier to be wrong in your life. You’ll gladly be wrong more often if it means finding yourself under Jake. You rock backwards to meet him halfway, the clap of sweat-slick skin dampened by the roar of blood rushing in your ears. It’s almost as good as flying. The rush. The light, dizzy feeling. Like a high. Each moment is unique but blurring together and vaguely familiar.

When he pulls back too far and slips out of you, you raise your ass up and give it a tempting swivel. Greedy hands capture your hips and hold you still so he can push back into you.

This, proves to be the coffee table’s undoing.

You yelp, only avoiding a faceful of apartment floor thanks to Jake’s quick reflexes as a loud crack echos off the walls. Broad forearms have slid under your waist, stopping your momentum as Jake’s prized possession meets its demise on the carpeted floor. Both of you are panting — both from the sudden cease in activity and in some semblance of surprise. When you finally register what’s happened, you can’t stop the terribly loud laughter that leaves you as Jake pulls you back up to your knees and eventually onto the couch, away from the scene of the crime.

“Shut it, Benjamin,” he mutters, haphazardly pulling sweats back up around his waist — not that they stay up since the drawstring is still digging into your skin. He looks back at you from over his shoulder, where you sit with your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back laughter. The longer he looks at you the more his own expression cracks as he joins you while you continue to laugh.

“I guess it’s a good thing I apologized to your table,” you wheeze when you manage to get enough air back into your lungs. “You know, now that it’s no longer with us and all.” The laughter continues as Jake covers his face with a hand, both of you reeling, stomachs aching.

“So,” you draw out. “You wanna untie me so I can help you clean this up, or…?”

And while Hangman shakes his head no, he reaches out to untie your wrists all the same. “Leave it,” he says as he massages the red, bloodless lines crisscrossing your arms. “We’ll pick it up after.”

“After?” You grin, eyes half-lidded as you give Jake a onceover. He’s still hard, cock tenting his loose shorts.

“Yeah.” He tosses the drawstring to the side, intending for it to land on the coffee table, but it lands, instead, on top of its debris. “Gonna have to take this to the bedroom unless we want splint–”

Knock! Knock!

“Yo, Jake! You good?” It’s Coyote. Your wide eyes meet Hangman’s.

“What is Coyote doing here?” you hiss as quiet as humanly possible.

“I think we were supposed to get drinks.”

“You think?” It’s a struggle to keep quiet, but Coyote finding you in Jake’s quarters — naked in Jake’s quarters — could mean the end of both of your careers. You’re his commanding officer, dammit!

“Jake?!” Coyote’s sounding a little more frantic and you’re worried that he’s going to try the door next. God, did Hangman remember to lock it when you got there?

“Yeah, man!” he’s shouting a response and already wide eyes look pleadingly at green ones, silently begging him to get Coyote the fuck outta Dodge. “I’m good.”

“Alright, so… you gonna open the door?” You’re in the middle of locating your clothes from around the room, pausing as Jake looks at you — as though he’s incapable of selecting the correct answer, which is obviously ‘no’. You shake your head frantically, leaving Hangman’s response.

“‘Fraid that’s not happening, Machado.” You’ve finally located your shirt on the floor but before you can grab it, Hangman’s hands grab your hips and pull you off balance and onto his lap.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ you mouth at him, brows drawn in a stern frown.

“Why’s that?” Oh, you know, just a typical Monday night with his very naked commanding officer on his fucking lap in his living room. You watch as the gears turn in Jake’s head, you’re nearly about to tell him off and try your luck climbing out the window when he replies.

“Got a girl in here, man.”

“Ha!” Coyote barks a laugh. “You work fast.”

Not fast enough it seems. You try to stand but Jake’s grasp around your waist is impassible, leaving you stuck between a proverbial rock and a hard-on. Despite the situation, Jake’s lips curl into a smile against your neck. “Please,” he continues, falling into the same teasing back and forth he and Coyote have always had, “you would too with a face like this.”

God, you want to smack that look right off of his face.

“And that body!” Coyote laughs back.

“Javy, please,” Jake chides, an ever growing smirk on lips that continue to tantalize your skin, trapped in his arms and the worst possible situation. “You’re making me blush.” The blonde snickers as his friend joins him from the hall. Like a cat trying to escape a child’s manhandling grasp, you continue to push from Jake, which he finally catches on to. “Alright, man, unfortunately, I’m gonna have to ask you to get goin’.”

“What, you don’t wanna share?” the other pilot propositions from behind the incredibly thin — I mean, seriously, what kind of door allows a damn conversation like this to happen through it — door.

You stiffen at the insinuation. The idea that Coyote could find you out. Flush your entire career in an instant.

“Not this one.”

Your expression softens at Jake’s answer. In the line up of answers A through D, that was not one of the responses you’d anticipated. To be fair — the question itself was rather unpredictable to start with.

“Ten-four. Just make sure you wrap it.”

Jake answering grin is lecherous when he turns to you. “Ah, come on, baby. You’re not gonna make me wrap it, are ya?”

Exaggerated heaving noises filter through the door. “I’m leaving.”

“Good riddance,” Hangman calls after him as you breathe out a sigh.

“Thank god.” Jake’s grip is still tight around you. Neither of you are exactly fighting to move just yet. Maybe that’s why his hands find your waist, lips trailing down the back of your neck and along your shoulder. Normally, you would’ve melted into it, but right now? Your stomach is doing somersault after somersault after the entire interaction. “Hangy,” you mumble, hearing his hum from behind you. “It’s dead.”

He chuckles as he sits back finally. “Dead as the table?” A sad laugh leaves you as you finally slip from his fingertips, standing up and looking at the wreckage below you.

“Oh yeah.” You nod, finally snagging your shirt from the floor and pulling it over your head. “Ashes to ashes.”

“Dust to dust,” Jake continues, slumped into the depths of the couch.

“Street trash to street trash.”

“Hey!” he corrects, brows furrowed, and you can’t help but giggle at your jab, relishing in your own amusement.

When the both of you finally sort yourselves out, you offer to help Jake carry what remains of the coffee table down four flights of stairs and out to the green dumpster in the parking lot. You set the broken pieces on the asphalt, stretching out your back slightly once it's down.

“Did you, uh…” With one of the legs in your hand, you point to the table before your eyes rise to meet Jake’s — facial features filled with annoyance. “Did you want to say something?” You gesture to the table, slapping the leg in your hand against your free palm.

“Shut up, Kody,” he snides, picking up the broken and disassembled parts of his table and throwing them into the dumpster.

“Alright, I’ll say something.” You look at the stained wood table leg in your hand, clearing your throat. “Ikea table–”

“Target,” Jake’s correction comes, leaving you to glance at him, nodding.

“Target table: Our acquaintance was short lived. Much like you were.”

Jake lets out a low chuckle, he’s trying to hide it, but he’s not doing a very good job of it.

“You were mediocre at best.”

“Excuse me?” Jake interrogates, an eyebrow raised in silent retaliation.

“I was talking to the table.” A scoff comes from him before he squats down to pull said table from its spot, up and into the dumpster as you hold the lid open. With a thud the lid returns to its closed position as Jake lays his table in its final resting place upon a bed of trash and brushes his hands free of dirt. He starts off in the direction of your car but even in the few feet he’s managed to get between you, you can hear him mumble under his breath.

“Brat.”

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick

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holylulusworld · 2 years

Text

Christmas on the run

Summary: You and Steve didn’t part ways on good terms. What happens when you end up in the same cabin on Christmas?

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: language, enemies to ???, cliché tropes, snowed in, banter

Square 10 filled for @avengersbingo: Snowed in

Square 4 filled for Lulu’s XMAS Bingo: Snowed in

Square 3 filled for Lulu’s Winter bingo: Snowed in

Words: 1,5 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Three months earlier, …

“Superhero on the run. War of the Avengers. Fight or flight Captain,” you shut off your phone, groaning as the messages still pop up. “Newsflash, assholes. I’m not interested in your shit anymore. Fight all you want. I’m out of this for good.”

You fall back on the comfortable sofa you brought to your fortress of solitude. Your grandfather’s cabin. A place no one but him and you know about.

“Cheers Tony,” you raise your glass at your friend. “I hope you’re happy now. The world is on fire and the Avengers are torn apart. Good thing you signed those fucking accords.”

You down your drink, hissing as the burning liquid runs down your throat.

“What a shitshow, Cap. Being on the run must be fun,” you chuckle darkly. “Fuck you, Cappy. I hope being chased around the world helps you stay in shape…”

Now, Christmas Eve, …

“Food is ready. I got all my favorite movies on Blu-ray. Security is on the highest level,” you look at your phone to check on your tasks. “I got enough food until New Year’s Eve.”

While you look around the cozy room, sighing as you are ready to spend Christmas Eve alone in your chosen exile your dog jolts up. He runs toward the door and grits his teeth.

“Cerberus, stop,” your dog immediately reacts to your command. He still grits his teeth and is ready to jump at anyone daring to break into your cabin, but he waits for you to allow him to do so. “I got this.”

You slowly step toward the door, grabbing the shotgun you hide next to the door. You unlock the gun, taking a deep breath.

“My dog can smell you out there. If you want to break into my cabin, you should know I do not hesitate to kill you. You better get the fuck off my lawn.”

“This is not a lawn, but rather a forest,” frowning you listen to the man’s rant. “Doll, I’m not in the mood to break down another door. I need to hide at your place for a while.”

“No can do, Capsicle,” he huffs as you refuse to open the door. “I told you to keep me out of your beef with Tony last time you contacted me. You made sure I had to leave the Avengers before shit went down. So, get out of my sight!”

“Listen, I got no time for this shit,” you gasp. Captain America, the golden boy scolding you for your fecal language just cursed. “Let me inside or I’ll break through the door, doll.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you unlock the door. “Can you all not leave me alone?” You open the door but press the shotgun to Steve’s chest. “No tricks, Captain. I won’t join your little club and there will be no support from my side.”

You step aside, hoping Stark and Ross won’t believe you support Steve and his little group.

“Can I come in now?” you still recognize his voice, and piercing blue eyes but the bearded Captain America stepping inside your cabin seems so different from the man you used to know.

“Sure,” you huff. “Make yourself home and ruin my life even more. Why don’t cha?”

“It was your insubordination ruining your career, not me,” he snaps back. He looks tired, worn out, and just done with this world.

“What happened to your suit? Don’t you wear stars and stripes anymore, Cappy?”

He huffs. “It’s still the same suit, just a little more worn-out…”

You look Steve up and down as he paces back and forth. “If you say so. So, what brings you here? How did you even find me?”

“I had to hide and didn’t find a better place,” he shrugs. “I remembered the cabin you mentioned, and came here, believing no one will be out here. I was wrong…obviously.”

“I never told a single soul about my grandfather’s cabin. No one,” you step closer to Steve to size him up. “How the fuck did you find it?”

“You told me about it.”

“Like hell,” snapping your fingers for your dog you keep a close eye on Steve. “You owe me an explanation. If you do not answer my questions, you can go back out there. The approaching snowstorm will freeze your ass off, but I couldn’t care less.”

Steve squares his jaw. He didn’t come out here and made his way through the snow to answer your questions.

“Tony checked your background. Thoroughly. Your grandfather bought the property forty years ago.”

“That asshole checked my grandfather’s background too?” you sneer. “Typical. Stark likes to stick his nose into other people’s business. No wonder the Avengers broke up.”

“We did not break up,” Steve rolls his eyes. “We-I fucked up. I should’ve told Tony about his parents and what Bucky did.”

“Aw, do you want to make up with Stark now?” you smirk. “Do you want me to call him? Maybe you want to all come here and ruin my Christmas just for fun.”

“You love this, don’t you? Y/N Y/L/N always was all bark and no bite,” he sasses back, returning your smirk. “I came here to hide from the world once again. We’ve got no time for chit-chat, doll.”

“I’m not your doll, Cappy,” you wave him off. “You better tell me what you want. I want you on your way and for you to leave me alone.”

“You want me to go back out there,” he points at the window. Snow is mercilessly falling. You’ll be snowed-in in no time. “I won’t make it out alive out of these woods.”

“Not my problem.”

You sit down on your sofa and snuggle into your blanket. “Fine. I got separated from the others. Bucky is safe, but the others are still out there, fighting to not get caught by Ross.”

This time you roll your eyes. “Do you even know why Tony wanted me on the team?” you dip your head as Steve dares to sit on the armchair opposite your couch. “Do you?”

“He never told me,” Steve closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. “Can we get this over with? I’m so tired.”

“I’m a breathing polygraph, Cappy. That’s why I knew the Accords were bullshit and that your friend didn’t kill that guy,” you shrug as Steve gasps audibly.

“What? I-you knew?” he splutters. “Why didn’t you say a thing?”

“I could’ve told him about it. But you,” you chuckle now, “made it impossible for me to get even close to Stark.”

“No. How could you not stop us?”

“Aw, you should see your sad face, Cappy,” you coo. “I called, though. I left messages. I sent emails. I even tried to break into the Avenger’s tower to talk to Stark. I didn’t even get close to him.”

“You knew all this time…”

You nod.

“I couldn’t do a thing. I knew the accords and Bucky would fracture the team. Stark didn’t answer my calls, and neither did you. While you and Tony fought at the airport, I tried to reach you one last time. The last thing I heard was that you are on the run and Tony brought a broken shield home.”

“If you know all of this,” he whispers lowly. “You know why I came here too…”

“No. I don’t,” you retort. “I cannot read your mind, Steve. All I’m capable of is telling you if anyone lies. That’s all.”

“You see, the world is close to its extinction once again. We will get attacked by a power beyond your imagination,” you watch Steve closely. “I need your help.”

“I can’t,” you switch the TV on and try to ignore Steve’s presence. “If you came here to ask me to join your team, you are mistaken. I won’t lift a finger for you, or Team Iron Man. Leave me out of this shit.”

“This is not about the Avengers or me,” Steve gets back up from the armchair. “It’s of importance that you come with me. Dr. Strange said it’s the only way to save Natasha, Tony and someone called Gamora...”

“He said the same thing to me a few weeks ago,” you laugh. “He lied, Cappy. He only tries to get the band back together.”

“Why would he lie?”

“He’s just done cleaning up your and Stark’s shit. Get your shit together, call Stark and make up.”

Steve chuckles at your attitude. “If you let me stay here until the snowstorm ends, I’ll call Tony.”

“Lie.”

“I’ll try calling him.”

“Another lie.”

“Fine. What do you want me to do? He won’t even take my call!”

“He’s waiting for you to make the first step. Give him that and he’ll be putty in your hands,” you grin. “Now let me watch my favorite movie and you can sit over there and look pretty…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#avengersbingo #steve rogers #nomad steve rogers #Nomad!Steve x Reader #nomad!steve #Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #Christmas on the run #lulu's winter bingo #lulu's xmas bingo

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blissfullyapillow · 2 years

Text

Angel with a Shotgun

Wanderer x female reader

wc: 3,158

Notes: Yet another fic with my oc in mind but it reads like an x reader (I’ve been inspired what can I say lol), speaking of inspired this was inspired by the song Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab (specifically the nightcore version), fun fluff with the reader constantly threatening the Traveler (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

Back to Masterlist A

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“Ehehe, Paimon believes that Paimon’s miles better than- Traveler, who’s that?” Paimon shrieks as she hides behind the traveler.

Huh. That’s not the reaction I expected, but I’m not surprised by it.

I am approaching them as I wield my sword after all.

I thought our first meeting would be different, and nothing like this. But I know what I must do. “Traveler. You have crossed a line that should never be crossed. The Wanderer…” I trail off, the venom in my voice creating a tense atmosphere.

The Traveler steps back slightly, shielding Paimon from me. I don’t give them a moment to ponder my words before I’m lunging forward with my drawn sword. The Traveler manages to parry my blow, but I manage to cut off a small strand of their hair.

I grasp the strand and hold it in my open palm, smirking all the while as I ignore Paimon’s frightened squeals.

“Funny, I thought you were a person of many titles. ‘The Honorary Knight.’” Our blades run along each other as my sharp blade attempts to slice through their neck.

“The Captain of the Watatsumi Island Special Operations Unit.” With a grunt I lower myself to the ground and swipe beneath the Traveler’s feet. with my agile one’s. They dodge my first foot, but they trip over the second one that makes a swift follow up. They fall to the ground, but before my blade can slam down on them they’re quick to roll over.

I groan when they use the element of geo to knock me down from behind, but I quickly recover with the assistance of the wind. “The Outlander.” I encase the Traveler and I in a circle of Ice, the pointy edges almost piercing Paimon. That’s when the Traveler’s eyes truly darken, and a sadistic smile makes it way onto my lips.

“The First Sage of Buer.” The Traveler’s eyes widen and they falter for a moment at my words, and I take the opportunity to freeze a slippery path below their feet. Paimon yells for the Traveler to watch out, but it’s too late.

They’ve already fallen into my trap.

I never cared for Signora, but I mimic her technique as I enclose the Traveler’s feet where they stand. The strong gust of wind I’m summoning has Paimon struggling to stay in our enclosed arena as I make my way over to the struggling Traveler.

They’ve grown stronger from their experiences in previous nations so I can’t underestimate them; it won’t be long before they break free from my icy prison. I can’t help but chuckle when I realize they’re using a similar method to the Anemo Archon to escape the ice.

The Traveler uses the wind and earth to chip away at the block of ice encapsulating their feet. Unfortunately for them, my resolve won’t yield so easily. “You should’ve kept to yourself; stop butting your head in place it doesn’t belong. The Wanderer is not an individual to be messed with, and neither am I. If you ever lay a hand on him again, I will not be so merciful. Maybe I should give you a demonstration of what’s in store if you dare to play with magic.” I don’t wait for a response as my blade slashes down to scar the Traveler’s arm. Paimon’s scream is as piercing as the beginnings of frostbite that nip at the tips of my fingers.

My blade stops mere millimeters from my target.

How frustrating.

My blade is stopped by a hand and a strong gust of wind, and I look up to come face to face with the man I’m currently fighting for.

My entire demeanor shifts as my eyes light up and my heart pounds loudly with joy in my ears. “Wanderer!!” I engulf him in a hug, and he grunts. “What did I tell you about attacking people over stupid rumors you hear about me!?” Wanderer scolds me harshly and he wacks the back of my head.

I let out a cry of dismay before I pull away enough to stare into his eyes. The ice around us ceremoniously breaks and the wind slows to a calm, soothing breeze. A beautiful flurry of snow now surrounds us, and Paimon flies over to the Traveler to check up on them as the ice encapsulating their foot finally breaks.

“But- but this time they said you died!! They said the Traveler successfully put an end to-“ “Don’t listen to rumors you dimwit!” Wanderer wacks me again before he pulls me roughly against him.

I sniffle as he soothingly smoothes my hair back. I feel more than hear him chuckle as Paimon screams at the both of us. “Tell that small floating child to shut up. They’re giving me a headache.” Wanderer bursts into raucous laughter at my words while the Traveler sounds unamused and quite angry.

“Rest now. I’ll explain the situation for you, but don’t get your hopes up.” I allow myself to finally relax knowing Wanderer is actually safe and not deceased like I previously thought he was.

The last thing I feel are his soft lips against the crown of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And that’s the gist of it. So? How do you feel? You almost lost something valuable to someone of extraordinary power, yet all you can do is stand there with that dumb look on your face.” Paimon’s loud voice wakes me up from my restful nap, and I stir as the unconscious world fades from my mind.

Damn. I was having a good dream too.

“You’re being too loud.” Wanderer scolds Paimon as I shift in his arms. Paimon continues shouting nonetheless, and I fully wake up with a disarming yawn. My blurry eyes finally focus and the Traveler and Paimon’s annoyed expressions are the first thing to greet me.

“What?” I ask. “What do you mean, what!?” Paimon asks incredulously. “Well, I told them the basics. You really need to stop acting so irrationally when things concern me, Y/n.” Wanderer’s words are rough yet sincere, and I know he’s right. With a sigh I remove myself from his arms to stand and bow before the Traveler. “I apologize for attacking you based on false rumors, but if you so much as try to lay a hand on Wanderer I-“

WHACK!

“I apologize.” “That’s better.” I refuse to rub my head even though Wanderer’s smack left a stinging sensation.

“THIS GIRL IS RIDICULOUS!” Paimon screeches.

“Everyone, calm down and try to understand where the other is coming from.” Wanderer’s blunt words cause my lips to quirk up into a blatantly smug expression. “Oh? That’s surprisingly reasonable coming from you.” I taunt Wanderer. His eyes burn holes into mine, and I send a flirtatious wink in his direction.

He returns to stand by my side from his previous position, and he huffs as his hand purposefully bumps against mine in a silent question. I intertwine our hands in a comforting answer. “Huh, it looks like I wasn’t the only one who missed the other.” I muse.

I take joy in Wanderer’s flushed cheeks and annoyed expression that acts as a face to mask the bashful feelings that lie underneath.

Paimon looks so flabbergasted it causes me to laugh. She sputters as she tries to find the accurate words to say that truly expresses her exasperation with Wanderer and I. In the end all she does is stay silent, for once, as she turns to the Traveler to take the lead.

“Ah, that’s more like it. Thanks Paimon. Traveler, I apologize. I have nothing against you personally, but I owe many things to Wanderer. He’s special to me in a way no one else ever will be. Anyone who wishes or inflicts harm upon him will meet a fate worse than death, by my own hand.” I spit out the last sentence and Wanderer gives my hand a squeeze in warning. The traveler quirks a brow at my words, but they continue to remain silent.

A beat of silence passes before the Traveler finally speaks up, “Okay. I don’t completely understand.. everything, but I can see you don’t personally have any ill intent against me. You just seem to be very stubborn.” I guffaw at the Traveler’s words as Wanderer laughs. “That’s the perfect description for her.” He dodges my elbow, and before we know it the tense atmosphere is broken as Paimon fails to hold back a delighted giggle.

“Paimon’s still angry with you, but if you buy Paimon food she’ll forgive you!” I chuckle at Paimon’s words. “Okay, how do you feel about sticky honey roast?” I tease. Paimon gasps before adamantly agreeing to my proposal.

I don’t miss the way the Traveler’s gaze follows me with evident concern in their eyes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once everyone is full from the good food the atmosphere is much lighter, and everyone finally relaxes their tense body language.

“So, how do you two know each other? Paimon’s never seen the Wanderer so… so…” Paimon fails to think of a sufficient word to describe his current demeanor. “Docile?” I jest. Paimon laughs, in agreement with my suggestion, and the Wanderer scoffs.

“Anyway, you seem to know a lot about me. Why’s that?” The Traveler doesn’t beat around the bush. Wanderer also looks a bit curious as he waits for my response. “That’s on a need to know basis and you don’t need to know.” My words cause the once cheerful atmosphere to become tense yet again, but my fit of giggles is quick to dispel the atmosphere. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Gosh you should’ve seen your face!” I laugh and motion towards the Traveler’s now dumbstruck expression.

“I’ve seen you around. I’ve been to every nation of Teyvat, and I often see you around and am privy to all the rumors surrounding you. That’s how I know about all your endeavors.” I surmise. The Traveler elaborates on their question by saying, “But that doesn’t explain how you know about me being the first sage of-“ “Paimon, how’s the sticky honey roast?” “Mmmm, Paimon loves it! Y/n’s a good cook Traveler!” Paimon gulfs down another serving of Sticky Honey Roast, and I can’t help but softly smile at the scene.

When I look at Traveler our eyes meet. They study me for a moment before changing the subject. Whatever they saw in my eyes must’ve quelled their worries enough to dismiss their unanswered question.

It’s not like they aren’t used to unanswered questions anyway.

“Y/n has always been like that. Quick to anger with matters involving me. It began a few months after our meeting….” Wanderer trails off, and I recall the time I destroyed an entire treasure hoarder camp after we were both caught by surprise and Scaramouche took a hit intended for me, which resulted in him needing repairs by the doctor.

Ugh, the doctor.

“I hate that Doctor.” I grumble under my breath. Wanderer snorts and the Traveler’s eyes shoot in my direction. “You know the doctor?” Traveler asks, clearly fishing for information. “I said that doctor, not the doctor. There’s clearly a word difference there.” I smirk at their now furrowed brows. “I see why you two get along now.” A beat passes before I double over in laughter. “She’s usually more friendly. You two just got off on the wrong foot.” “The wrong foot? That ‘foot’ was more like a sword!” As the others bicker I calm myself down enough to speak.

“We’ll definitely be seeing more of each other in the future. Then, you can make your own judgment of me. You can decide whether I’m someone you’d like to keep around by your own means. As long as you don’t hurt the one’s dear to my heart, I see no reason as to why we can’t get along.” I extend my hand towards the Traveler to shake after my little monologue, and I feel satisfied when they only take a moment of hesitance before shaking my hand.

“Alright. It’s a deal.” “Great! Now, Paimon’s eating the Traveler’s share of food!” The Traveler maneuvers their plate of food around Paimon as Paimon attempts to eat their share of food, and I giggle at the scene before me. “How gluttonous.” I hear Wanderer murmur under his breath.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once Paimon and the Traveler give Wanderer and I time to “catch up,” it’s silent.

but it’s a comfortable silence.

I blissfully sigh as I sip the last few drops of tea remaining in my cup. This tea tastes especially good since Wanderer was the one who brewed the cup of tea for me.

I smirk as I recall the other’s flabbergasted expressions since he only brewed one cup.

“You really are…” I turn to study Wanderer’s conflicted face as he tries to articulate the message he wishes to convey. I sit in silence as I patiently wait for him to voice his thoughts.

It’s funny since I’m not a very patient person, but for him I’m effortlessly patient.

“You really are something, huh? Stop.. worryingmelikethisdumbassyou-“ He coughs into his fist, his words coming out jumbled together and rushed.

I understand the meaning behind them regardless.

A goofy smile presents itself on my face, and I don’t dare hide it from him. He notices my expression, and it seems to give him the courage he needs to continue speaking. He takes a few deep breaths before he continues. “You may make an enemy of the wrong person one day. I… appreciate your loyalty and sincerity, but stop being a blockhead and rushing into things! Especially when it’s for my sake, you moron.” I predict his movements and dodge his swing this time around.

He looks visibly aghast that I predicted his movements. He comically glances at his hand as I reply, “Honestly Wanderer, when we first met I found you interesting. I don’t know what it was, but I was undeniably attracted to you. I think it was your energy? Like, I could tell you may not be a… ahem, pleasant, person to be around..” I shoot a glance in his direction. I admire the scowl he sports on his lovely lips. “But I had a gut feeling that there was more to you than what meets the eye; I just knew there was something.. inherently good about you beneath the surface. Call me a naive fool- wait no, don’t actually do it because I know you will!” I thankfully say that right as he opens his mouth to do just as I had said. He reluctantly shuts his mouth as he rolls his eyes. “Go on, before I change my mind.” He grumbles more to himself than me.

I feel a sense of nostalgia as I remember when the man before me went by the name of Scaramouche instead of Wanderer. “Anyway, I’m glad I followed my heart and basically forced my way into your life. We all know we wouldn’t be here together like this if I didn’t.” I giggle when he opens his mouth to deny what I said, but yet again shuts his mouth moments later.

“I guess what I’m trying to say with my long winded speech is…” I suddenly turn around to fully face him, and I engulf both of his hands within my own.

I feel my eyes prick with unshed tears as I recall a time I’ve done this before. “After learning about your past…” I close my eyes and recall the day of our reunion, the day the man who no longer referred to himself as Scaramouche finally confided in me. I was beyond grateful and really touched. He isn’t the type of person to tell someone something so personal of his own accord, and it makes my heart swell with my pride knowing I’m the only one he’s ever told.

“It’s clear to me that you’re not just a puppet. You’re someone with feelings; you have a heart. You may not be the best at expressing said feelings..” I snort when he crinkles his nose and his face conveys absolute disgust at my sincere words. “But just like anyone else in this world you deserve to be happy and to be loved. Others may not agree, and that’s okay. I’ve never cared for what others think. You are all that I adore, and if love is what you need, a soldier I will be. I know you have your own baggage to carry and your sins weigh heavily upon your conscience, so let me help you stand up tall and carry that burden. You don’t have to wander alone. …Although we all know you’re more than capable of loving yourself, if you’ll let me, I’d like to love you too.” I squeeze my eyes shut as my chest rapidly rises and falls with panicked breaths.

It took a lot of courage for me to say all of this to him. I hope he doesn’t misunderstand me and think I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe I am. I hope he doesn’t hate me for it. “Wanderer, I-“ My words are cut off by a surprisingly soft pair of lips against my own. I jump in surprise, then immediately feel embarrassed that I did. A cold hand rests against my cheek, and as I lean against it his lips retract from mine.

I look into his eyes, and all the words he needs to say are found within the depths of his irises. “You’re an angel in this abysmal hell.” His breath fans over me, and I can’t contain my smirk.

“Can I say it? Just this once?” I prompt. His eyes narrow as he knows where this is going. “We’re in the middle of having a sentimental moment and you choose now of all times to be like this?” “I’m not hearing a nooo…” “No.” “But Wanderer it’s literally the title of the fic-“ “I said no.” I let out a dejected sigh and concede with grace.

“Okay…” I mumble. Wanderer blinks at me with a blank expression.

Once.

Twice.

Then full belly laughter erupts from him as he throws his head back and covers his beautiful smile. I quickly reach a hand out to grasp the hand covering his expression of happiness in mine, and he weakly fights against me as his melodious laughter blesses my ears.

“Is that the Wanderer!?” I can hear Paimon’s loud voice outside the door as the Traveler hushes them.

I knew they were eavesdropping. I’ll have to lecture them on the importance of privacy later.

For now, I relish in the alluring sight before me as I feel a peaceful veil of comfort envelop me. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen you since we parted ways on that snowy night.

I know he’ll scold me for thinking this way, but I can’t help but feel that our fates have been intertwined.

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