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fangdokja · 3 days ago

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He crushed a man’s skull beneath his boot and turned to you with a smile.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Marine Corps x Reader

♡ Oneshot. #1

♡ Word Count. 963

The battlefield reeked of death—the sharp tang of blood mixed with gunpowder hung thick in the air. Smoke curled around the shattered remains of buildings, a grim reminder of what once stood in defiance of destruction. You stood amidst the wreckage, small and fragile against the chaos, your lips pressed tightly together in the silence you’d perfected over the years. Not a single sound escaped you, though your trembling hands betrayed what your carefully composed expression could not.

He was a towering figure in this nightmarish theater, a soldier honed not just by war but by something darker. The brutal efficiency in his movements was terrifying to witness; each step deliberate, each strike calculated. His broad shoulders rippled with tension under the tattered remnants of his uniform, the black tactical vest clinging to his chest soaked with the blood of both comrades and enemies. His eyes as cold as steel burned with an unrelenting fire as he surveyed the carnage around him.

“Stay close to me,” he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, as though dragged from the depths of the abyss itself. You didn’t dare disobey. Not after what you’d seen.

The man—no, the madman—had just butchered three men who dared to corner you. Their screams echoed in your ears, a haunting melody of snapping bones and gurgling cries. He hadn’t hesitated. His massive hands, calloused and scarred, had torn one’s throat open as if it were paper, while his boot crushed another’s skull with a sickening crunch. The last had tried to beg, but his pleas were cut short as the man plunged a blade into his chest, twisting it slowly as if savoring the act.

“You’re shaking,” he said, his tone devoid of comfort. His gaze flicked down to you, taking in the quivering of your small frame. “Good. You should be scared. That’s what keeps you alive.”

He reached for you, his hand large enough to engulf your shoulder completely. His touch wasn’t gentle—it never was. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you were his, and that no one else could lay a finger on you. The blood smeared across his gloves left a crimson stain on your clothes, marking you as part of the carnage he’d wrought.

“They were going to take you from me,” he murmured, his voice low and menacing. “Do you understand what that means?”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Words felt useless in the face of his overwhelming presence, and your selective muteness provided a convenient shield against his unrelenting intensity. But he didn’t need your words. He’d learned to read you—your body language, your eyes, the subtle shifts in your posture. And right now, he saw fear.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “It means I’ll kill every last one of them if it means keeping you safe.”

As if to punctuate his statement, a figure emerged from the smoke, a rifle raised. The man’s reaction was instantaneous. He grabbed you by the arm and shoved you behind him with a force that left you stumbling. In the same motion, he drew his sidearm and fired a single shot. The enemy soldier dropped, blood spraying from the precise wound in his forehead. The man didn’t even blink.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, stepping over the corpse as if it were nothing more than debris. He turned back to you, his expression softening in a way that only made him more terrifying. “Come on. I won’t let you die out here.”

You hesitated, your feet rooted to the ground. The logical part of your mind screamed at you to run, to escape this monster masquerading as your savior. But your body betrayed you, obeying his command as if compelled by some unseen force. You followed him, your steps faltering but obedient.

The slaughter continued as he carved a path through the battlefield. His methods were brutal, each kill more horrific than the last. He used everything at his disposal—guns, knives, even his bare hands. One soldier was left choking on his own blood, his windpipe crushed by the man’s iron grip. Another was disemboweled with surgical precision, his intestines spilling onto the ground in a grotesque display. The air was filled with the wet sounds of flesh tearing, the crack of bones breaking, and the muffled gasps of dying men.

Through it all, he remained composed, his expression unchanging except for the occasional glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He didn’t just kill; he dominated, ensuring that each enemy knew their place beneath him in their final moments. It was a display of power so absolute that even you, his supposed charge, felt its oppressive weight bearing down on you.

By the time the chaos subsided, the ground was slick with blood, and the bodies lay in grotesque heaps. He stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving with exertion. Blood dripped from his hands and splattered across his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes found yours, piercing through the haze of smoke and fear.

“You’re mine,” he said, the words more a statement of fact than a declaration. “No one will take you from me. Not now. Not ever.”

Your breath hitched, and for a brief moment, you considered running. But the thought died as quickly as it came. Where would you go? He would find you. He always did.

Instead, you nodded, the smallest of movements. It was enough to satisfy him. His lips curled into a predatory smile, and he reached out to cup your face with a blood-streaked hand. The contrast between his rough touch and the gentle way he held you was jarring, a reminder of the duality that made him so terrifying.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re learning.”

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intynidad · 1 year ago

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yayayayayayayya!

Imagine a Soldier, a DILF,Huge, muscular, and so intimidating! But there are a few drawbacks.. He is VERY possessive and overprotective! (Yandere)

He can’t see you with another man! Or even the thought of a man breathing in your direction is enough for him to throw a sharpened knife at his head.. Even women are rivals to him.. He is a MaleWife! I’m his free time he wants to take care of you! like imagine the pink frills and bows but with camouflage pants and dog tags..

And the way he looks at you.. with so much adoration and love.. Even after transforming into a beast a few moments ago and glaring at the one who dared to even look at his sweet darling!

Scary dog privileges!! A huge almost 7 foot man stalking behind you with a preditorial gaze.. Sending death glares at anyone who passes near you..

you don’t know how he is so stealthyfor being so huge..

Has a huge and muscular body! So he has huge hands and arms.. With lots of bulging veins!

(Imagine grabbing his moobies after a hard day of work.. He would moan and whimper like a bitch in heat.. a string of Thank yous coming out his mouth..)

I imagine he has a hidden piercing probably on his tongue.. but no one knows.. except you.. but isn’t noticeable because he wears a balaclava at work!

Petnames!: Darling, Sweethear, Angel, My love, Princess, Lovely

It took some time but i really like how it came out owo

I got a little lazy on the end but is still good

TW: yandere behavior, description of violence(not towards reader), use of pet names (sugar cube and darling), female oriented reader ??? Tell me if i miss anything owo

Enjoy !

War was not kind to anyone.

First, your father was drafted to fight on the front lines. He tried to write every time he could, but one day, you and your mother stopped getting any letters. That's when you knew it - that your father was dead.

Your now-widowed mother was absolutely heartbroken. You tried to initiate a conversation, saying, -"Hello, Mom,"- but were only met with silence. This is how things have been going since the news of your father. It’s been a lonely and difficult time for your family.

You often found yourself staring out of the window, watching the seasons change. The world outside seemed to carry on as if nothing had happened, while inside your home, there was a void that couldn't be filled.

You saw how the war started to consume your little neighborhood, first your father, then your mother, and now your friends.

"I can't believe it," you said with a shaky voice. "You can't leave me."

You clutched the small phone in your hands while the other person on the line gave a low chuckle, full of sadness. "I know, I know. It's not like I want to."

"Dylan, please," you begged, your voice choked with a sob. "You're sick. You can't go to fight."

"I can't just stay still while the war consumes our lives, sugar cube," Dylan replied with determination. "Listen, I'm going to do everything I can to stay in contact, but I refuse to stay still while our enemies burn our homes and kill our people."

You understood his sentiment, but the fear of losing yet another person you loved was overwhelming. The war had taken so much from you already, and you didn't want to lose Dylan as well.

"Dylan, promise me you'll be safe. Promise me you'll come back," you pleaded.

"I promise I'll do my best, sugar cube," Dylan said softly. "And I promise we'll be together again when this nightmare is over."

As the call ended, you clutched the phone tightly, tears streaming down your face, thinking of the destiny of one of your closest friends. With your vision blurry, that's when you saw it:

[Be the hero of our heroes!]

[Become a war nurse and help today!]

——-

The training was fairly easy, but the hardest part was saying goodbye to your mother. It wasn't because of the response she gave you, but rather the lack of it. The war had taken so much from her, and you leaving to join the medical corps was another sacrifice she had to bear in silence.

After three months of training and preparation, you reached your destination - the front lines. Well, it wasn't exactly the front lines where bullets flew, but it was a place where you felt like you were helping. The makeshift field hospital was a hive of activity, with wounded soldiers being brought in, and the dedicated medical team doing their best to save lives and ease suffering.

Your heart swelled with a mix of fear and determination as you donned your nurse's uniform. You had a newfound respect for the doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly in these conditions, and now, you were one of them.

Every day, you encounter injured soldiers, each with their own story of bravery and sacrifice. You offered comfort, administered care, and listened to their fears and hopes. It was a harsh environment, but the camaraderie and shared purpose among the medical staff gave you strength.

As you continued your work on the front lines, you knew that this was where you were meant to be, where you could honor your father's memory, support your friends, and be a beacon of hope in the darkness of war.

That was until one particularly slow day. Well, as slow as it could be in a war hospital. You were preparing some medical supplies for the medics to take to their respective camps when a superior of yours called you.

-"Y/N! Could you come over and take care of this new patient? I'm kinda busy right now,"- the woman said in a calm tone.

-"Sure, just send them back here, and I'll take care of them,"- you responded.

Her tone was pretty chill, so it was probably just a bruise or maybe a cold. You were preparing some medicine and band-aids when you felt a small tap on your shoulder.

-"I'm sorry to keep you waiting; please have a sea-" When you turned around, you were shocked to see a man - no, a practical giant - towering over you.

The soldier was immense, with a rugged face that bore the scars of battle. He had a stern, almost intimidating expression, and it was clear that he had seen his fair share of combat. As he hunched down to enter the tent, you couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and trepidation.

-“Captain Samuel Reynolds, a pleasure to make your acquaintance"- he said in a deep, gravelly voice. His uniform was tattered and stained, and he clutched his side in obvious pain.

-"Y/N,"- you replied, trying to regain your composure. You quickly gestured for him to sit on one of the makeshift beds. As he eased himself down, it became apparent that he was wounded, a bandage around his abdomen stained with blood.

-"I heard you're the best nurse in this place,"- he said, his voice filled with both gratitude and a touch of humor.

You blushed at the compliment. The reality was that you were just doing your best, like all the others in the medical corps. You started to assess his injuries, trying to hide your nervousness as you worked to remove the soiled bandage.

-"You've been through quite a lot,"- you commented as you cleaned the wound.

Samuel winced, but he nodded. -"The front lines aren't a picnic, that's for sure. But I've seen worse."

As you stitched up his wound and administered medication, you couldn't help but feel watched as his gaze practically pierced through you. But you continued to do your work, focused on providing the best care you could.

-"Okay, that should do for the bleeding, Mr. Reynolds. Let me go grab some bandages and some painkillers for you,"- you said.

His response caught you off guard, -"...why?"- Samuel said, almost confused about your reasoning.

-"Because, um, you are hurt?"- You stammered, wondering if you had said something wrong.

-"Thanks for the offer, sweetheart, but this pain won't kill me. Plus, there are some other people around that probably need those painkillers and bandages more than me,"- Samuel said matter-of-factly. He expected it to be the end of the conversation. You would probably tell him okay and assign him a bed, and that would be the end of it.

But you surprised him with your firm resolve. -"No,"- you said.

-"Thanks, so I will be going to my bed, then,"- Samuel was more than confused when he registered your words.

-"Wait, what?"- he asked.

-"I'm sorry, Captain, but with all due respect, I will not allow you to do that,"- you said firmly.

-"Do what?"- Samuel was clearly taken aback.

-"I'm sorry, but as long as you are here, I'm in charge of you, and I won't let any of my patients go suffering when they can perfectly take some rest and medication,"- you said, giving him a small, determined smile. It was clear that you weren't going to back down.

Samuel's eyes met yours, and he seemed to be processing your words. His tough exterior had met its match in your unwavering dedication to your patients' well-being.

As you delicately applied pressure to his wounds to wrap them up in bandages, Samuel couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat. The way your hands worked so skillfully and delicately had a calming effect, and he found himself strangely drawn to your touch. It was as if your care had the power to make his pain vanish.

However, the sensation of your fingers on his skin made him nervous. His heart raced, and he couldn't quite understand why he felt this way. Samuel, a battle-hardened captain, suddenly felt a wave of discomfort.

-"I'm sorry, but are you okay?"- you asked, looking into his eyes as you reached your hand to his forehead. -"You're a little bit hot."

-"I'm f-fine,"- he stammered, full of shame. How was it possible that he was suddenly stuttering? What was happening to him?

Samuel couldn't quite comprehend the mix of emotions he was experiencing. Here he was, a soldier used to facing danger and making difficult decisions, and yet in this moment, your caring presence and gentle touch had him feeling vulnerable in a way he had never felt before.

A couple of weeks passed, and you continued to care for him. It didn't take much time for Samuel to realize that he was in love. A cold-blooded soldier had become completely enamored by a tiny (in comparison to him) nurse. He couldn't help but follow you with his gaze as you waltzed around the hospital, tending to the wounded and offering comfort with your warm smile.

He felt a profound happiness with you in his life. The war, which had taken so much from him, had also given him something unexpected – love.

One day, when his wounds were practically all healed up, he went for a run around the hospital perimeters. Part of it was to use some of the energy he had built up during his recovery, but deep down, he also wanted to make sure you were safe.

During his run, he stumbled upon a small river with water lilies floating on its surface. They were small in comparison to his massive hands, delicate and beautiful, just like you. Samuel found himself captivated by their fragility and elegance.

He decided then and there. He would confess his feelings to you when the sun went down. Those lilies, a symbol of the tenderness he had discovered in the midst of war, would be his gift to you. They represented the love that had grown in his heart, unexpected and pure, just like the delicate blossoms on the river.

He advanced with a spark to his feet, feeling his heart sincronice to each step he took.

At the entrance of your “office” (it was just a big tent but you liked to call it that) , he called out to you, -"Um, Miss Y/N, are you there?"- He couldn't help but feel a certain nervousness in his voice. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, like he was a teenager again, not a battle-hardened soldier.

When he didn’t hear anything he decided to just enter and wait for you.

It was weird. You usually would check for medical supplies and then come back to your tent to put on your uniform and THEN start the day…not like he had your whole schedule memorized of anything.

He started to worry. Maybe you had been distracted or were in some kind of danger. The concern for your well-being began to overshadow his initial nervousness. He scanned the tent, looking for any signs of where you might be or if there was trouble.

He bolted to his feet again running to the “hospital”, full with worry.

When he got there he asked to another nurse if they had see you

-“oh, Y/N. O boy let me tell´ya. They been all lovely dovey with somebody on the back”-

-…what- Samuel felt his heart freeze

The nurse continued without noticing -“ya’ apparently it was an old friend of them. Let me tell’ya boy. The moment that guy enter she almost fainted of happiness. She was like “omg its been so long and””-

Samuel stopped listening half way through. He didn’t care about that guy.

He cared about you.

Who was this guy

How do you know him

He was dangerous?

Was he an enemy ?

He walked with a heavy step. Until he hear a small voice sniffling.

Samuel froze. It was you.

-“aww don’t worry sugar cube. I’m alright told ya’”- a voice he didn’t recognize talked to you

He cringed at the nickname the stranger gave you. Sugar cube

Yes you were sweet and all of that but he had no right to call you that.

-im sorry Dylan is just that *sob* the tears don’t stop- you responded

Dylan huh…where did he heard that name before.

He peeked a little and what he saw made his blood boil.

You were there with tears staining your beautiful face. And that disgusting man was kissing them away. Like he had any right to do that.

He continued to observe in silence.

He saw how this man sat you on his lap while kissing you.

At this point the lilies were long forgotten crushed to mere crumbs into his hands.

And when he saw Dylan slowly caress your leg he couldn’t stand there any longer.

He opened the curtain that separated you three and walked with a heavy step.

-“may i know what you are doing, soldier?”- his voice low and authoritative

Dylan that was not paying attention, bolted his head toward him and with super speed put you down on his side

-S-Sir i'm sorry is- Dylan tried to explain himself while he brushed up his uniform

-“I don’t want to hear it,soldier. Identify yourself and your section”-

-“Dylan Ramirez sir. I just got transfer to site 2-A sir.”-

Ah. That where he knew him. He was a new transfer to HIS section.

-why are you in this stablishment and not reporting to me of your arrival- samuel said with maybe a little to much volume

-“i wanted to say hello to nurse Y/N sir. She is an old friend sir.”-

Friend…he didn’t believe that bullcrap

-i want you out and to run 10 laps around the perimeter.NOW-

And with that Dylan rise to his feet and run towards the exit.

You that were looking at the whole exchange. Felt slightly intimidated. Like the first time you met Samuel. He been so nice with you that you forgot that he is a high rank in the troops.

When your two sights encounter you couldn’t help but look to the ground.

-“are you alright?”- say Samuel on a voice much, much softer than the one he used with Dylan.

You didn’t say anything.

-“is just that…I heard you cry and got worried”- that was partially the truth but he was sure you wouldn’t mind.

-“yea i apologize for the whole scene…Mr Samuel”- you said with a hint of shame on your voice

-“you don’t have to apologize for anything,darling. Is just we are going tomorrow to the front lines again and maybe im a little nervous”- another half truth but alas it was for the best.

-“can i ask you to do something for me?”- you said, still looking at the ground

Oh if only you knew what he would do for you

-whatever you need-

-Please take care of Dylan on the front lines. He is a very important person to me-

Why. Why he was such an important person to you?.

Why does he had that he didn’t?

Why you looked at them without fear and when you looked at him your gaze was on the ground?

Why

WHY

-“sure. Ill make sure Dylan is taken care of”- samuel say after a moment

-“thank you”- you said with a small smile

…..

He still though of that small interaction. He almost felt a hint of guilt for breaking his promise. Almost

He choose Dylan as his second in command to investigate a supposedly abandoned enemy base. That way they could maybe find supplies or a hint to end this war.

He had done this dozens of times.

The feeling of the bone breaking and the warmth of the blood on his hands. But the adrenaline on his veins this time made it a little different. Almost like if it was more personal.

If he had to compare Dylan to an animal it would probably be a deer of some kind.

A frail and sickly one but still a deer

First it was a shoot to the leg. He screamed in pain as he fell to the ground but we both knew that nobody would come.

Then Samuel stepped on his hand with all his force. It made a crack that send a pleasant chill to his own spine.

The beating continued for a while. For too little time on Samuel’s opinion and if Dylan had the ability to speak he probably said it was for far too long.

But no one can really talk with a broken jaw and without a tongue.

When he came back to the base. Nobody question the story of an ambush.

Nobody question that fact that his knife was missing.

Why would they?

After all he was the first in command. He was the commander Samuel

But the acting when he came back to you was supreme. Maybe he should had been an actor instead of a soldier but anyway.

You cried and screamed and punched the air.

It did broke his heart that you looked so sad. But don’t worry he would be here for you as long as you need him

And you wouldn’t need anybody else.

#soft yandere #yandere #writing blog #yandereoc #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere story #yandere!soldier #yandere male #yandere thoughts #yandere boy #yandere x darling #y/n #reader

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chaoticcollectivenightmare · 3 months ago

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Soldier Boy X Nick (OC) Headcanons

Not Grammar - Spelling Checker

OC X Canon Ship

Male X Male Ship

*ANIMATED LINES by @cafekitsune

Ben is easily made jealous when he sees Nick with another man.

Like he gives this man such death stares and so that he leaves his boyfriend alone.

I think he would even get violent if the man continued to talk to Nick.

He knows that Nick can defend himself, but he still doesn't like sharing Nick with another man.

In romance he is most jealous but if it is platonic then it depends on the situation.

Like when Nick talks to Hughie or something. Ben doesn't see Hughie as a big threat and that's why Hughie is allowed to talk to Nick

It's similar to how only men who are weaker than him were allowed to talk to Nick.

But on the other hand, Ben didn't want to let his party live and Nick just let it happen. Nick too "careless."

He knows that Ben will definitely sleep with women and men when he parties, but Nick knows that only he sees Ben's real personality.

Maybe the one-night stand only attracted him sexually but Ben is attracted to Nick mental and physical.

Nick knows that Ben always comes back to him because he is better than the one-night stands.

Nick is homosexual and Ben is bisexual but both have to hide their sexuality because of Voght.

That's why they're just "friends" but both actually wanted more.

In private, the two of them have the only opportunity to be together romantically.

Both are the kind of guys who say "I don't need anyone anymore except you"

Both would go back in time if they could to correct a mistake or protect the other.

With Nick you would immediately think that he would do this

For Ben, everyone would be surprised that he would do this, but for Nick he would do anything.

#@cafekitsune #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #male reader #solider boy #oc #soldier boy x male reader #soldier boy the boys #soliderboy x male reader

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chainsawsangel · 2 months ago

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The Boys: Violent Dog, Western AU.

right to left: Soldier Boy, Pup (OC), Samael, Esther.

commission done by @irlplasticlamb

below is about the commission and what the western AU is about.

OH. MY. GODDDDDDDD. this is my biggest commission YET holy moly! this turned out absolutely SPECTACULAR all thanks to @irlplasticlamb ! they did this commission that is based on my THE BOYS western AU featuring my werewolf oc/self-insert Pup, + my OC Esther (they/them) as well as my priest OC, Samael! There's also Soldier Boy too! haha, all three of my OCs are from The Boys and just seeing them in this western AU is super cool and wicked!!! the western AU has become SUCH A FAVE for me and so I love that I got to see it brought to life through art, THEIR art no less. <33

Speaking of the western AU, I thought I'd explain a bit what this western AU is about:

So, this is a western au that takes place within 1890s western. Billy Butcher, a hot-headed gunslingin' cowboy has formed himself a group of ragtags and other cowboys. Basically, the Voughts gang and the boys gang (don't know what to call atm) are at war with one another, John (Homelander) keeps on coming back to antagonize them as he claims he'll ruin their day and kill them all when the time comes.

Meanwhile, they all plan on getting that WANTED werewolf and kill that too.....but they don't realize that the same werewolf (pup) is in the same gang that's their rival, she's right in front of them but, they don't know that yet.

The main four I'll be focusing on here are Soldier Boy, Pup, Esther and Samael.

Ben/Soldier Boy - Ben's a tough one. He used to be a part of a gang that came in and had tortured him before he finally got the courage to take them out himself. He's a wanted man, a gruff and tough dude with an attitude. If you piss him off, you best believe he'll take the guts right out of ya! Yeah, this cowboy doesn't take kindly to others....except for one.

Pup - The werewolf of the group. YES, she's quite literally a werewolf and she intends on making sure no one knows that except for only two people in her life: Ben and Esther. Ben and her are lovers in the gang, they're close. Pup is the werewolf that's wanted yet, other than Ben and Esther, she keeps her identity hidden from everyone. The Voughts want the wolf and some in the group are suspicious of the wolf as well, she doesn't wanna die because of being a wolf. However, she's pretty handy with a gun as well so, don't underestimate her!

Esther - Esther! Esther is a close friend of Pup's, they're also the ones that know the ins and outs of the town and people and can't get information off of anyone for the gang. They're a keeper that's for sure. And yes, Pup did have a crush on them when they first joined the gang when they both were a bit younger but now, Pup sees them as a close best friend. (although, Esther could still be dubbed “Steal your girl” with how often they like to hang with Pup when Ben’s near lol)

Samael - Finally, Samael! Samael is the Priest that the gang run into when they need a place of rest for a few days. Samael is decent enough to let them stick around for a bit. Samael knows it's wrong but does wind up developing a crush on Pup even though he knows it could never happen. Their dynamic is a bit complicated but that's the gist of it.

The dynamic between Pup and Samael in this AU is an interesting one. They do wind up becoming close once Samael joins in the gang and the more he sticks around, the more time Pup gets to know him. Their bond is bittersweet but Samael knows that if he gets too close, Ben might snatch him away and kill him. Samael, overtime, grows deep thoughts about her but doesn’t do anything about them. He knows Pup only views as nothing more than a close friend but, at least he has that: a close connection.

Samael feels guilt over the whole thing and that's not the only guilt he feels, it feels like a sin. In fact, once he started joining the gang, it all felt like a sin. he felt like he was joining a dark path and yet, he intended on staying anyway because he felt like he actually belonged. a priest like him.

anddddd....yeah! that's it for now anywhoooo, this is getting long lmaoo so I'll stop now. 😭😭

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bambisworlds · 2 months ago

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bambi's worlds masterlist

this is where i let my imagination run wild... you're welcome tehe

Other Works:

Aemond Targaryen

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Alex Volkov (twisted love)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Andy Barber (defending jacob)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Azriel (a court of thorns and roses)

azriel x needy oc drabble

mirror sex with azriel

Poly!Bat Boys Fics (a court of thornes and roses)

there's a man in the woods (poly!batboys x oc)

part one, part two, part three

rhysand, azriel, and cassian were blessed by the cauldron with a mate. although, the circumstances were never seen before. the three males each had a mate, and it turned out to be the same female they were each bound to; bambi. they had spent months trying to track down the female that had been haunting their dreams and they finally did. she was tamlin's "mate". he had somehow discovered bambi was the rhysand's mate, so he took her as his own lover to spite him. tamlin still blamed rhysand for the death of his true mate, rhysand's sister. however, this plan to get back at rhysand was short lived seeing as the bat boys showed up and took her to the night court with them, leaving tamlin in their dust. pissed that he no longer had the upper hand, tamlin snuck into the night court and kidnapped bambi

Bucky Barnes / The Winter Soldier (marvel cinematic universe)

the winter soldier's weakness

bucky and y/n have been free from Hydra for two years, trying to make a life of their own. but that becomes a struggle when bucky is framed for a bombing (3,036 word count)

Cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

no solo cassian fics yet, but i have some poly!bat boy fics higher up on my masterlist <3

Casteel Da'neer (from blood and ash)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Chris Evans

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Copia/Papa Emeritus IV (the band ghost)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Damon Salvatore (the vampire diaries)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Din Djarin (the mandalorian)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Drew Starkey

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Eddie Munson (stranger things)

the freak and the new girl (eddie munson x y/n)

y/n is new to hawkins high this year and everyone she's dated has treated her terribly. she's convinced she'll never find a healthy relationship, until eddie munson changes everything.

part one, part two, part three

Geralt (the witcher)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Harry Styles

after show special (my first fic !)

harry can't wait to get you alone after his concert, so he takes you to his dressing room (harry x y/n).

Harwin Strong (house of the dragon)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Jim Hopper (stranger things)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Joel Miller (the last of us)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Rafe Cameron (outer banks)

rafe drabble (rafe x oc)

hard and soft (rafe x oc)

rafe waited impatiently for bambi to get out of the shower after she rejected his request to join her. when she comes out of the bathroom completely nude, he takes matters into his own hands.

Rhaenyra Targaryen (house of the dragon)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Rhysand (a court of thorns and roses)

no solo rhysand fics yet, but i have some poly!bat boys fics higher up on my masterlist<3

Rhys Larsen (twisted games)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Rick Grimes (the walking dead)

reunited (rick x y/n)

rick thought he knew what true, unconditional romantic love felt like with lori. she was his first love, the mother of his child. but that was nothing close to what he felt with you. you had the ability to turn him into the most deranged man alive, someone unrecognizable and downright psychotic when it came to protecting you. you could also bring him to his knees and turn him into a puddle at your feet. he could be the softest, gentleness man to exist if you wanted him to be. you were his, and he was yours. simple as that. when he woke up in the hospital to find the world had ended there were only two things on his mind; carl and you. he needed to find you.

season 5 rick grimes smut drabble

living constantly on the move was stressful, making it hard for bambi to sleep most nights. so, rick helps his sweet girl fall asleep.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (call of duty)

bambi and her bodyguard (simon x oc)

simon "ghost" riley is bambi's bodyguard, he worships the ground she walks on, but fights his feelings for her. well, until he can't anymore. (simon x oc).

needy little girl (simon x oc)

simon is trying to focus on paperwork in his office on base, bambi is the ultimate distraction.

simon riley lactation kink drabble

Sodo/Dew Drop Ghoul (the band ghost)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Steve Rogers (marvel cinematic universe)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Terzo/Papa Emeritus III (the band ghost)

nothing yet, but coming soon!

Wade Wilson (marvel cinematic universe)

cookies and clay (wade x little!oc)

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plasticfangtastic · 6 months ago

Text

My Masterlist

Howdy my name is Kay and I write fics for the boys (mostly just Homelander centric) this is a directory of my old and new fics, any projects am working on have worked on can be found here.

I hate short stories and I write long Chapters, I love Butchlander and Butchie content.

I'm currently on a writing hiatus

Old pin post with the following works can be found here:

Of The same Poisonous Ilk (A Butchlander/self-cest fic-- on hiatus)

Building Blocks (a Butchlander fic-- on hiatus)

Anybody Else Won't do (An Ashlander fic-- on hiatus)

Can We be Lonely Together (A HL x reader fic or Homelander x Joe Goldberg from YOU fic-- completed)

American Royalty (A dadlander x reader fic with a homelander daughter OC-- completed)

Carnivorous Lamb (A Homelander x Male! OC priest kink/ntr fic-- completed)

Thicker than Water (A Soldier Boy x Homelander fic-- one-shot)

No Codiciaras los bienes ajenos (A HL x Ashley x Butcher fic-- one-shot)

Behind the Scenes (A Hometek fic)

When the Lion loved the lamb (A HL x Male oc prequel to Carnivorous lamb one-shot)

This wasnt in the job description (An Ashlander fic one-shot)

My current fics:

Quiet Room-- A Homelander fic about him and Jonah Voguelbaum going to see Shrek.

A Garden Without Impurity-- Homelander X GN Reader fic, he is a polygamist and reader is his favorite spouse

Lemon Scented Messes-- A Butchie fanfic (my first one ever)

Charred Steaks-- A Butchlander fic short and sweet involving a partially depowered Homelander

Thank you for reading!

#Homelander #the boys amazon #my fic tag #personal #my pinned post #apologies for clogging tag but this is mostly for me #butchlander #the boys fics

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

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My Lord! A Snappin' Turla!

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: New OC foks!! :) Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’s an ordinary Tuesday morning at the 141 base when Laswell walks into the room with a rather annoyed looking woman in tow. The guys look up from their breakfast and tea, to Laswell, to the woman, then back to their breakfast, and it’s only Price who breaks the silence.

“This her?” he asks and Laswell nods, shoving her forward.

“This is indeed. Introduce yourself.”

“I’d rather not,” the woman mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There are a lot of things I’d rather not do and babysitting you is one of those,” Laswell retorts. “Introduce yourself.”

The woman rolls her eyes, lets out an exaggerated sigh and greets, “Name’s Snapper.”

At this, Soap looks up from his eggs. “Snapper?”

“That’s what I said, William Wallace.”

He ignores the swipe. “Why do they call you ‘Snapper’? Bonnie lass like you should be called something nicer.”

Snapper blinks, eyes hardening as she answers, “I once got attacked by a drunk guy who though it would be a good idea to stick his hand in my face. Three guesses as to what I bit off and how many.”

“And there goes my desire to ask you out,” Soap jokes and she turns to Laswell with a glare.

“I’m gonna hurt this boy’s feelings.”

“Play nice, niece,” she sighs and this time, Gaz looks up.

“Niece? You have a niece?”

“My wife’s.”

“Ah,” he nods and looks to Snapper. “Kyle Garrick. But everyone calls me Gaz.”

“I cannot physically believe you’re sticking me in a base full of men.”

Laswell rolls her eyes. “As much as I hate to actually admit this, you’re one of the best information specialists I’ve ever seen. The 141 can benefit from your help.”

“Men. I’m stuck on a base full of male soldiers. Who shit and fart and laugh loudly with no regards to their surroundings. Why would this be enjoyable for me?”

“Consider it punishment for hacking into the Pentagon and changing the official records to say that Clinton did in fact have sexual relations with that woman.”

Snapper glares at the floor. “You just can’t appreciate good humor.”

“I appreciate my wife not being beside herself in tears that her only niece is in federal prison.”

“Had to get your attention and entrance to the CIA somehow,” she griped.

Finally, Ghost meets her gaze. “You hacked into the Pentagon so you could prove you were good enough to join the CIA?”

She glares at him. “Yeah, kinda how you joined the army so you could find a family that actually cared about you.” She looks at them. “Anybody else want their feelings hurt or just the obviously PTSD-ridden, antisocial, masked freak?”

“You’re out of line, Snapper,” Laswell hisses and she turns her glare onto her aunt.

“I didn’t ask to be here. You could’ve put me anywhere else. You control where I go but you sure as shit don’t control what the fuck I say or do.”

The two glower at one another before Laswell shuts her eyes, breathes deeply for a few moments, then opens her eyes and looks at Price. “Her file is on your desk, her bags are outside the door. She’s a handful but she’s good. If you need me, call.” She turns to Snapper. “You piss me the hell off, I want to kill you, I love you, I’ll call you when I land. Goodbye.”

“You can’t just leave me here!” she shouts in return but doesn’t follow, instead she cocks a hand on her hip and looks at the four men at the table. “So…what’s on the agenda first?”

Price lets out a breath. “Manners, for starters.”

“Kiss my left ass-cheek,” she retorts. “I’m not letting a forty-five-year-old man tell me how to be ladylike.”

Soap and Gaz both snort into their drinks and Price falls stricken with a look of disbelief. “I’m thirty-eight?”

“Uh huh, and I’m the fucking Queen of England.” She gestures to them. “Have fun in your circle-jerk club. I’m gonna go wander.”

“No you’re not, lass,” Soap says, jumping up to grab her arm and she pauses, looks down at his hand, then back up.

“You wanna play this game with me?” Snapper asks coldly. “Because I’ll win.”

He points a finger in her face. “You keep your hands to yourself and your teeth off people.”

“I find I don’t like men telling what to do particularly pleasant. Let go or you’ll be two fingers less than you were five seconds ago.” He glares but lets her go and follows when she turns around. “I don’t need a babysitter. Fuck off.”

“This base has sensitive information you’re not privy to.”

“Yeah, like how you take the lieutenant up your ass every night?”

Soap stalls. “H-how?”

“I’m very good at what I do,” is all she tells him, then pauses and turns back to the table. “I want that one to lead me around.” Her finger is pointing straight at Gaz, who looks like he’s about to shit a brick.

He looks at Price in terror. “I do not want to be her friend.”

“Fuck you,” she barks, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m a great friend.”

Price glances between the two glaring at each other. “Gaz, give her a tour of the base.”

“Price—”

“That’s an order,” he adds and Gaz grunts, getting up from the table to follow her.

“C’mon,” he says, and she clears her throat with exaggeration, getting in front of him.

“Oh no, I’m not being led around like a dog.”

“I’m not treating you like a fucking dog,” he gripes, opening the door. “Just go.”

“Make me, princess,” she retorts and the two start arguing as the door shuts behind them.

No one breaks the silence for a few moments, then Price groans, lays his head on the table and swears. “Fuckin’ Laswell. When she said she had a specialist in mind, I thought it was gonna be someone enjoyable.”

Soap tipped his head side to side. “I dunno, Price, she seems like an…acquired taste.”

“More like sour,” he bites back, sitting up to run a hand down his face. “God help Gaz.”

“He’ll be fine,” Soap says. “What’s the worst that could happen? They hate-fuck?”

“Exactly. I’m too young to be a grandfather,” he says, looking at Ghost. “They’re not allowed to sleep in the same room. Ever.”

“Who fucking died and put me in charge of them?” Ghost snaps.

“Because I trust you.”

“You don’t trust me?” Soap asks, hurt.

“You’ll encourage them, Simon won’t.”

“But don’t you want Gaz to be happy?”

“I want Gaz to not be arrested for killing a CIA agent.”

“Think she might bite his head off before that happens,” Ghost says.

“She’ll bite somethin’,” Soap snorts.

Price grunts, rising from his seat, tea cup in his hand. “I’m going to my office. Come get me if they get into a fistfight.”

“Still questioning why I’m in charge of them,” Ghost gripes.

“Because I fuckin’ said so. That’s why.”

“Permission to not be nice to her.”

“Granted. Lethal verbal decimation allowed.”

“Copy.” Ghost rises, pointing at Soap. “You. Come on.”

“You?” he sputters. “I have a name, ya fuckin’ reprobate.”

As the two argue while they leave, Price leans against the table and frowns at his feet. “I need a partner…or a fucking hobby…or both.”

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crzzybby · 11 days ago

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I see WAY too much incest in the pro ship community and not enough kid / teen x older father figure. and when I do see it its always bland horny paragraphs about being groomed that you can clearly tell were typed with one hand and nutted halfway through, losing interest. I get it sister x sister or wtv.. but can we talk about strong emotional bonds and slow burns between a closed off angry traumatized boy and his older male parental figure.

my friends are like aayaylala! And I’m like bro…… can we talk about the like political and economic state of the world right now? 😐 (slash quote)

mention of fictional SA / Fluff between my OC x Captain Price ╰┈➤ ♡

I have an oc (who I also split as a fictive), who’s a 14-15 year old French soldier and was practically raised and abused in boot camp since he was 9 years old after his mother died. he was trained to act older than he was and bottle up his emotions, so he has an extreme fear of vulnerability. He was beaten and r*ped by his lieutenant, so he has scars and marks all over his body and hates showing them. He was transferred to the 141 (COD oc oopsi!) at 14 for his incredible skill, and simply the fact the lieutenant couldn’t harbor him at the camp for much longer, and wouldn’t talk or interact with anyone. he was quiet, stern and kept to himself. He’d talk back to his teammates and push them away. After several months of Price pushing and trying to get Pierre to open up he broke down sobbing in his arms while price cooed and reassured him

“there you go, kiddo.. I’ve got ya..” shushing and holding the back of his head while he buried his face in his chest, hitting him angrily as he sobbed but price made no effort to stop him, letting the poor boy use him as an outlet 🩷

IM EXPLAINING THIS VERY LAZILY I could talk about them for hours I’ve written so much

I love love love kid / teen x Father figure fluff please please please we need more of it

reblog and share your fluff. I’m desperate

#please share your own dynamics I LOVE listening #profic #profiction #proship #darkship #coping #actually mentally ill #captain john price #COD oc #oc x canon #slightly self insert

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pleasantspark · 4 months ago

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Just Yours - Chapter One Yandere! Ginyu Force (Ginyu, Burter, Recoome, Jeice and Guldo) x Zarbon's Daughter! OC (Mikumi) Genre: Horror/Romance(?) Tropes: Yandere, Reverse Harem Part of the Just Yours Series Warnings: Yandere, Possessive Behavior, Multiship, Harems, Tropes being done over and over, Murder, Death, Stalking AUs Utilized: Overhaul AU A/N: Many people enjoyed the Yandere Frieza Series, so I decided to make something I was thinking about for awhile now. Hehe.

"Really Dad?!" Mikumi shouts with happiness, Zarbon sighed and placed a hand on his head.

"Yes, really. I decided to let you join the Ginyu Force, BUT. And this is a huge one, as a test run, to see if you really want to join." Zarbon said.

"Oh trust me father, I would like to join the Ginyu Force!" Mikumi said, Zarbon raised an eyebrow. He sighs and shook his head.

"Even with the tacky uniforms?"

"Yes!"

"Even with all those boys?"

"Yes, Father..."

"Even with-"

"Yes! I always wanted to dance."

Zarbon sighs. "Alright, fine, just this once. If you ever want to not stay around, please tell me. And I can remove you from the group." Zarbon said.

"Of course, father." Mikumi smiled.

Ginyu was trying to have the Ginyu Force practicing their moves the include a fifth member, Zarbon had called Ginyu and gave him information on his daughter.

Ginyu seen Mikumi around the ship, usually shadowing Zarbon or they would inspect or look around, Ginyu was already infatuated with her and felt a genuine connection.

He didn't have the balls to approach her, mainly due to overhearing from many lower ranked soldiers on how "dangerous" Zarbon was when it came to his daughter. So Ginyu stayed away.

It came as a shock, however, when Zarbon called him and asked him to include Mikumi in a trial run for a fifth slot in the Ginyu Force, Ginyu readily accepted wanting a chance to speak to Mikumi. So now here he was, teaching the other 3 on a new formation.

Guldo fell over, Jeice and Burter groaned. Recoome seemed to be annoyed.

"Captain Ginyu, why the fuck are we even needing a fifth member?" Burter asked.

"It's only a trial run, we don't know if they'll stay." Ginyu said.

"Aw, it was starting to get boring with all you 4..." Guldo said, "N-Not like I don't enjoy you all!" He sputters.

"I wouldn't mind a fifth member, it spices things up." Jeice smirks and smiled.

"I agree with Guldo and Jeice!" Recoome said.

"Look, I don't know how-" Burter begins before the door opened and Mikumi came in. Burter's attitude immediately changed upon seeing her.

"Ah, she is here." Ginyu said, walking up to her.

"Ugh, a girl." Burter groaned, but snuck a peek at her.

"A GIRL!?" Guldo asked.

"Finally, it was starting to become a total sausage fest here." Jeice smirked.

"Wow, she's PRETTY!" Recoome said.

"Ignore them." Ginyu said, waving his hand away from the others. "Welcome to the Ginyu Force."

"Thanks Captain Ginyu! I am glad to spend time with all of you. For a short time." Mikumi smiled. Ginyu's face blushed and looked away.

"Right, however long you may be here for, I hope you can enjoy your time with us." Ginyu clears his throat. "Now, let me introduce you to your teammates."

"Of course."

Ginyu escorted her over to the other three.

"This is Burter." Ginyu said, gesturing to the blue tall male.

"Seriously, why is a girl joining us?" Burter asked, secretly admiring her.

"This is Guldo." Ginyu said, pointing to a short lime green male.

"If you need someone to teach you how to dance on a bed hit me up~" Guldo flirts, Mikumi blushed, which led to the other 4 getting mad.

"This is Jeice." Ginyu said. slightly annoyed about Guldo's comment. He points to the red short male.

"Hello, I can show you a better time than Guldo~" Jeice flirts, pissing off Guldo and Ginyu, while Burter scoffs and Recoome glared daggers in the back of Jeice's head.

"Jeice... Shut the fuck up." Ginyu snaps at his second in command, causing everyone to get a little spooked.

"What, I was just joking!" Jeice said.

"Lies, you weren't fucking joking." Burter said, to his friend.

"Whatever, if you can't take a joke then it's on ya." Jeice rolled his eyes, Ginyu tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down before responding again.

"This is Recoome." Ginyu points to a normal looking human, and Recoome didn't know what to say, he wanted to respond like Guldo and Jeice, in the presence of someone as beautiful as her, but didn't want to concur the wrath of his buddies.

"Hey, nice to meet you." Recoome said. Which caused the others to slightly relax.

"And you already know me! I am Captain Ginyu! And together we're..." Ginyu began.

"THE GINYU FORCE!" They all said in unison posing.

"Now, all that introductions are over, are you ready to train for the trial period?" Ginyu asked.

"Of course!" Mikumi smiled.

>Next Chapter

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mirthlxss · 2 years ago

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Off to the races

Chapter 8: I have a Las Vegas past

“And what soldier are you seducing?”

master list

price x oc, series.

a03: pricescigar, Off to the races is posted in full.

taglist: @deadbranch , @jxvipike, @smoggyfogbottom

warnings: none.

“As the one taken hostage here, I feel my vote matters more.”

“I don’t actually think that helps your case in any way Lil’.”

“Oan’ this occasion I actually agree with the lass, I cannae take another Chinese-“

“Could you at least try and speak English for once Johnny.”

Disgruntled, Lilith let her head roll back against the cushion of the sofa, groaning loudly at the bickering. “This was meant to be my takeaway!”

“Sharing is caring” Kyle implored, the four had reached a stalemate.

“Well private no-pants and I will share an Indian then, you lot get Chinese” Soap pushed himself up from beside Ghost and moved to slump next to Lilith. As the man dropped down messily his large shoulder caught her own in a bruising movement, squashing her frame down behind himself.

“Fucking Christ-” She bit, free hand now slamming into his side, knuckles digging into his ribs with an effort to try to dislodge the male. Soap recoiled with a disjointed wail of pitched noise, pained laughs breaking out as she continued to assault his ribs.

“Oi- OI! Lass! Come aff’ it!”

“Don’t tickle him.” Ghost barked out in an instant, defensively standing over the two within seconds, guarding grip going to separate them, only to be pulled into Soap’s side, practically kneeling over the man.

“Ow can everyone just get the fuck off me-“ Lily squirmed beneath them both, shooting daggers back at Simon as he seemed to loom over her like an iron wall between herself and his sergeant. She paused in her struggle to fully return his unyielding glare, lips twisting into a determined glower. “Gonna strangle Soap with my shoelaces.”

“The ones you’re gonna seduce off a soldier?” Kyle quipped, feeling slightly left out of the fray. From beneath Ghost, Johnny began to chuckle, prickles of red percolating across his visage as he sat smothered by the masked man, slightly out of breath from Lilith trying to get him to move.

“The very ones.” She hummed, eyes flaring as she maintained whatever stare-down was occurring between them both.

“And what soldier are you seducing?” The question came from the hall, his voice rose the hairs on her arms as it seemed to reverberate off the walls. Captain Price rolled in like thick fog, you’d feel his temperature rising the room, know his presence, even before you’d see him. Engrossing, the antics had halted in lieu of him, all watching toward the opening of the common room, waiting for his mountainous frame to fill the space.

“Any, can’t be so picky at the moment.” She chimed, and there he was. Having encroached upon the struggle slowly, as if surveying a battleground, eyebrow rising in feigned interest. He lingered over Garrick, arms folding over one another as he watched Ghost slowly come away from between them and then Soap peeled himself off of Lilith. She rolled her shoulder back dramatically, hand going to massage over the reddened spot in which Soap had crushed.

“And why, pray tell, would you be seducing any soldier?”

“Shoelaces.” The four chimed out in union, Lily soon raising her legs up to display her ill-fitting boots.

Price gave a quick nod, a low ‘hm’ grumbling from his chest as he took in the sight. Eyebrow still quirked, observant as he moved his attentions toward his men, settling on Ghost as the Captain went to gesture with an open palm to her boots. A silent question, one which Ghost had rolled his eyes to. In his mind, it was common sense. Basic safety.

Lilith, having spent weeks in their presence now, had somewhat become attuned to the wordless conversations held between the boys. It struck her that the Captain was none the wiser to the fashion alterations demanded of her, a smug curl wavered over her lips, a hot chuckle now pressing past her throat.

“The incredible sulk over there specifically robbed me of shoelaces, belts and drawstrings, in the eventuality that I may feel the need to hang myself.”

“Snitch.”

“Enough Ghost, I’m actually struggling to comprehend the stupidity of this-“

“He took the scissors from the drawers as well.” Gaz coughed up, turning away from Ghost as he did so, leaning more toward Price like the Captain would scathe off the onslaught of abuse hurdled toward him in one pointed glare.

“For crying out loud, Simon, all of it better be back in place by tomorrow.”

There used to be space. Worn cracks of the sofa exposed the hatched webbing beneath it, aged and sun-damaged leather giving way under the wear and tear of hulking frames over time. There used to be enough room for three to lounge comfortably, one left to take prime position on the accompanying armchair. Tradition left the space to the lieutenant or the captain, something unspoken between the two dictated it was first come first serve. There used to be space, and then there was Lilith.

She��d offered to sit on the floor, quickly dismissed, now snug between Kyle and the captain. When the food came, it was an awkward shuffle of tucked-in elbows and carefully timed spoonfuls of curry, desperately trying not to knock into one another and spill anything. Feeling bold, or perhaps, not thinking properly, she had ordered something new. After three mouthfuls, the woman had gone a patchy array of fuchsia, quietly gulping down the fiery sauce with a shaky determination, too embarrassed to give in or ask to swap with anyone. The tv blared ahead, celebrities screaming and yelling as they went through challenges, easy viewing, something mindless. Lilith was thankful the volume was up so loud, welcome to the distraction as the flavour seemed to pave way for hellfire. She shifted slightly as Price nudged her side, probably wanting more room having been squished in the corner, plate balancing on the arm of the sofa. She crossed her legs over to try to grant him more space, watching out the corner of her eye as he seemed to settle closer, hand encroaching upon her own.

Without a word, her plate was taken from her, soon to be replaced with his own. Quizzically she peered down at the much less red-looking dish, soon turning to Price as he carried on eating, free hand reaching down beside him to clasp around his pint, taking a measured sip before offering it to her. Lily carefully accepted the wet glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as they brushed against his own, which remained steadfast despite her unsteady grasp, only detaching after the few moments it took for her to grip it properly.

He remained focused on the bright flash of advertisements and happy smiles, strangers trying to sell him things, minutes of his life he’d never get back. Sometimes, he liked them, the slurry of capitalistic cartoon faces waving product after product, almost took it personally. How long would he have to watch them? Did they know he’d be away? Felt like an ordinary member of the public, targeted amongst the masses, use our service! Buy my product! He wouldn’t. But sometimes, he’d entertain it.

The idea of a new mop, a shiny vacuum cleaner. What use was it when his house would still be dusty after months of absence, no point.

He sighed softly, another spoonful of her curry. Christ, it was spicy, no wonder the poor girl was suffering. He could feel her itching beside him, practically melting away into the couch as she tried to breathe through her mouth discretely, failing to tame struggled coughs. Again, a quick glimpse over, she’d practically drowned down most of his beer, still going, the corners of her lips reddened from the sauce, eyes clenched shut with an earnest sense of relief.

One, two, steady droplets of condensation rolled past her slender fingers, escaping down the length of her arm.

One, two, the steady skip of his heart.

The rim of the glass pulled away from her mouth, smudged where she’d been. He flickered back to the tv, blinking harshly, another spoonful.

Plates discarded along the countertops behind them, several emptied cans littered the common space around them. Food, beer and a long day had pulled a cosy lull of quiet over the group, a warm blanket to sink into, draped over slumped figures as they merged into one another. Eyes feeling heavier, more and more effort needed to draw them back open after each blink. Soap declined into an unresponsive doze first, lolling onto Kyle, like dominos one after the other it was soon Lilith’s turn to soak in their sleep. She had held up quite well, still slightly on edge within the barracks, though the heat radiating from John seemed to disarm her slightly, soft snores coming from the two leaning onto one another going further in levelling down her sense of alarm.

Every now and again, hazel eyes would peer out across the room at Ghost, who remained in the armchair, sat upright with the same unfinished beer he’d had since the beginning. It was getting harder and harder to keep tabs on him, the darkness submerging his figure into the shadows, only caught by the momentary flashes of brightness from the screen.

She wanted to yawn, stretch out and submit herself to the pile beside her, check out for the night. It bubbled in her chest, the yearning rising ever so slowly, pushing out her ribs as she inhaled deeply, mouth clamped shut to try and fight the sound. It was small, the held-in yawn, the need to cover it up proved larger than her comfort, eyes slotting shut for a stretch before they crumpled open once more.

It was strangely comforting to the man, the sound of three muppets snoring away. He’d wanted to call it a night hours ago, holding out to see how long it would take her to give in seemed to sway his judgement, peeking every so often to see the subdued yawns and bleary-eyed look. He knew it wouldn’t be long, proven right by the sudden weight slumping onto his side. By then it was too late, Soap had shifted, then Kyle, and now Lily, all three balanced against the captain as he had only just managed to free his arm, casting it over the back of the couch with a huff. Her face pushed against his broad chest, an open-mouthed sleep that had resulted in a small patch of drool gathering on his shirt. She folded further into his side every so often, huffing and tucking into the warmth.

He tried to keep his eyes on the tv, head clouded with mops and hoovers.

Authors notes: HOPE the new aesthetic is okay! Thought I'd spruce it up a little, will probably go back and do the previous chapters like this one if it goes down well. :)

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a1ecmcdowell · 22 days ago

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THE REAPERㅤㅤ—ㅤㅤEVENT OF THE FUCKIN' CENTURY.

THE REAPER disappeared off the face of the planet in the 20th century. SOLDIER BOY is the only one who holds the answers. A WAITING GAME ensues to see which, if either, makes it out of the depths of the unknown first.

includes, they're gay ㅤㅤㅤ u get to meet the side characters < 3 ㅤㅤㅤ idk i think that's it IT'S MILD. COMPARED TO WAHT COMES NEXT

word count : 3.6k

notes, my monthy fic update is done time to drop off the face of the planet again for 2384590438 years PERDFKLSLJ sry for edging aftercare for so long i'm just a girl whose interests change like the weather

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev part!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterpost!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnext part!

04.

COLE WAS NOT wearing his fucking glasses and that was final. The Vought stylist brought them in underneath a silver platter like he was supposed to be excited for the reveal of glasses that would help his failing eyesight. As if that was something he would ever be excited for. The rest of his life, watching it fail despite the rest of his body healing fine, all because his powers just did that? Going blind because his powers just did that?

The only reason he did not tell Allie to get fucked was because she was the messenger. He didn’t shoot messengers. He just shot the sender twice.

“They’re really not so bad, Reaper,” she said in that soft voice of hers, tucking her hair behind one of her ears, fingers catching on the temples of the Vought Exclusive glasses she’d tried on. She was a sweetheart, really. Cole couldn’t believe he thought about shooting her.

Couldn’t believe a lot of the shit in his head, if he thought about it. So he didn’t.

“You try having your eyes failing on you, then tell me they’re ‘not so bad’,” he grumbles furiously, staring at his reflection in the large, golden framed mirror in one of Vought-American’s special dressing rooms on the upper floors. Cole meets Allie’s eyes in the reflection of the glass. “Oh. Fuck. Sorry.”

She plucks his glasses off of her face, and unfolds hers from being tucked into the neckline of her peplum dress, sliding them into her face. “Should switch you and Obsidian’s suits for that. Inconvenience the both of you.”

“Hey, he’s innocent in all of this, alright?” Cole laughs, a sound he doesn’t often do. Too locked up in his head, where it’s all dark and fucky. A pause. “Obsidian’s coming?”

“Rumor has it,” Allie singsongs in response, coming up behind Cole to smooth out the skin tight leather of his outfit. He’s beginning to think she has a thing for him. He’s beginning to think he needs a new damn stylist — or whatever she was. “They want to show unity, between the Six, now that Soldier Boy—”

Oh, fucking kill him.

“Yeah, yeah, no need to stroke his ego while he’s not here to get off on it,” he grumbled all over again, waving his hand in dismissive irritation. “God forbid he know they threw a fucking Gala for his safe return. As if he can die. As if I haven’t tried—”

Allie beams at him in the mirror, like he’s a spectacle. “Sorry,” she splutters when he catches her, head falling, “it’s just— I’m an intern, so I don’t get to see the likes of you all very often and— it’s real?”

Opportunities fall into his bored hands sometimes. Cole glances down at himself in his latex supersuit, then flicks his eyes back up to her. “Yeah. All real.”

Hates himself instantly. Has never, not once, felt so much like Ben in his life.

“No!” she splutters all over again, her fist punching out to hit him in the arm. “The rivalries. The drama. I thought it was just publicity.”

Cole knew that, by the way. He’s just falling victim, like the rest of America currently, based on the newspaper headlines, to the influence of Soldier Boy. Get him out of here.

Still, he puts on his media trained smile and nods once. “A lot of it’s just for show.” He talks himself out of trying to kill Soldier Boy twice an hour. “All in good fun.” He knows how he’d do it, too. “Gotta keep people watching, y’know?” Ben not included. Because Cole wanted to burn his eyes out and make his stupid head explode.

Cole claps his hands together, turning his head to the door. Still closed, no sign of Legend yet, coming to collect him and the others. “Well, Allie. Go check for me that The Legend hasn’t croaked yet, yeah? He’s late again.”

Allie, seemingly having been waiting for an order, jumps into action like a robot. Cole felt a wash of relief the moment that she was out of the room.

He didn’t hesitate to glance at the vanity counter that she’d left his glasses on, shooting the brightest beam of light at them to try and shatter them. No avail. Worth a shot, though.

His door cracks open, and he first hears it in the sounds that come before the actual movement. Heavy stomping footsteps, an even heavier sigh.

Cole expects Legend. Has an irritable teasing remark on the tip of his tongue.

It’s Ben.

“Just wanted to see if this was killin’ you yet, princess,” Ben hums, cigar hanging out of his mouth, hair styled flat and gelled against his scalp. “Having to celebrate me tonight.”

“I’m not celebrating shit,” Cole says through a scoff, running his fingers through his hair. He really should start putting an effort into his appearance, shouldn’t he? Can’t just bank on being the one of the Six everyone’s afraid to cross. “There’s free wine. I’m goin’ for free wine.”

“Don’t be like that,” Ben puffs an exhale of cigar smoke into the dressing room, making it smell like leather and tobacco at once. “You owe me a bit of fucking respect after the display yesterday.”

Cole’s eye starts twitching, like it always does when Ben opens his mouth and tries to reprimand him for not kissing his ass. “Yeah. Alright.”

He expects Ben to hound him a bit more, just to really solidify how much his feelings were hurt by specifically Cole’s unhappiness about his return. They’ve played this stupid game enough that Cole can predict every single one of Ben’s steps and still goes easy on him.

Instead, there’s the telltale scrape of heavy, solid metal on hardwood, and he only has time to blink before the whistle of something flying through the room overtakes any other sound. Ben’s shield.

Cole doesn’t have time to physically defend himself, or even react, before the edge of it slams into his abdomen and shoves him against the wall. Against the wall, into the wall — what was the difference? Drywall cracks behind his spine, and there’s a split second of blearing pain behind his eyes before his blood’s already sending its defenses to heal it.

“What the fuck?” Cole shouts, his boot kicking at the titanium steel and trying to shove it off of his leg where it’d fallen. Expectedly, he can’t move it.

Expectedly, he’s getting pissy. First they want him to make a grand debut next to Soldier Boy in fucking glasses — to prove that Soldier Boy is the strongest in his time of praise, he guessed, or maybe just so he could see. Either way made his blood turn to fire and ash. Then this—

“I have to go to a gala dedicated to me with a fucking hole in my chest,” Ben snarls, his booming voice echoing throughout the small dressing room. “Do you know how patronizing that is?”

“I didn’t know you knew what that word meant,” Cole says, mostly to himself, “been reading the Daily Tribune? Doing the crosswords?”

“I will fucking kill you one day, Reaper,” he responds through his gritted teeth, his own boots stomping on the ground as he goes to retrieve his shield, “and there won’t be a goddamn person to mourn you, and not a person to reap you either.”

Anger flares through him like a lit match. It’d been a minute, and it’s rusty at best, but he gives in to the dark. The shadows cast behind the vanity, the darker ones beneath the soft, maroon couch in the middle of the room.

He thinks it, and they finally, finally fall silent for a second, obeying the command in his head and curl into a wispy black hand around Ben’s throat.

“Nice trick,” Ben rasps through his strained throat, his twitching lips betraying the calm facade he wears like a mask, “gonna dim the light now?”

Finish it. He doesn’t. Finish him. He won’t. “Maybe the one in your eyes.”

“You wish.”

You wish, you wish, you wish. Fuck, he did wish.

It’s always like this when he gives in to the shadows. Their voices quiet when he reaches out to them, and then they’re loud, pounding in his skull.

He’s gotten used to pushing them away, though, Even when it makes his limbs feel too big for his skin, denying something so innate within him.

Cole holds the grip on Ben’s throat a second longer before he wills the shadows into bleary black smoke again. Ben’s hand comes up to rub at the reddened mark on his skin, his eyes ablaze with fire.

Ben’s hands shoot out before Cole can blink, strong fingers grabbing Cole by the nylon of his supersuit, They drag him in until they’re nose to nose, hot angry breath splaying on his face in puffs.

A blink, and Cole thinks he might hit him. A blink, and he’s certain he will, already preparing to have to pop his nose into place again, crack his jaw on track again.

He kisses him.

It’s bruising. teeth clashing into teeth, hard enough to send them both back into the wall behind Cole. Cole is too shocked to do anything, at first, except for let him, even as it felt like ice water being poured directly over his head, turning everything to ice.

Finally, he returns to his senses, and he shoves Ben back with his hands on his chest. Ben’s hands only curl tighter into the nylon fabric. “What the fuck, Ben?”

Ben’s chest heaves, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips. He says nothing in his defense, not a single word, but his eyes falling to Cole’s mouth says a thousand of them. One second, they’re staring at each other. The next second, Cole isn’t sure who moves first; him, or Ben. Ben, whose hands drag him back in by his grip on his shirt. Cole, who lifted his hands to grasp at Ben’s face, holding him in place so he couldn’t break free again.

It wasn’t romantic by any means. It was entirely lust and anger driving their mouths together. Ben pushes him back against the wall and the cracked drywall behind them, using his grip on Cole’s suit to lift him easily.

The skin tight fabric of their supersuits leaves little to the imagination about how this was affecting them, which does nothing but make Cole groan into Ben’s open mouth.

Ben shoves him harder into the wall, his voice a low, warning omen on his lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

For once in his entire life, Cole listens to him. He’d deny it until he died, though.

Ben’s knee knocks roughly against Cole’s, forcing him to spread them wider, and once Cole obliges, he presses himself deeper between them. Ben’s tongue swipes across Cole’s bottom lip until it opens, invading his mouth with force, just as he invades everything.

That thought alone has Cole shoving him off of him until Ben’s spine collides with the vanity, stumbling after him to sink his fingers in the waistband of Ben’s pants, pulling his hips closer but still keeping him pinned to the vanity.

Ben’s pupils are blown, eyes glazing as he stares into Cole’s. He leans in, teeth clamping around Cole’s bottom lip and drags it backwards until it pops back against his teeth.

“Hey, Reap,” a voice — Obsidian’s, he realizes — calls from the other side of the door, and Ben jerks back so quickly that his teeth bite into Cole’s lip. Cole’s eyes flare at the blood that draws to the surface of the skin, his eyes already flaring— “They’re about to announce us downstairs in the Plaza.”

The gold in Cole’s eyes dies down, but his heart still rests firmly in his throat; can feel it when he swallows. Ben’s teeth are clenched tightly, his jaw flexing in the process.

“Alright,” Cole calls back through the door, his voice strained and thick. “I’ll be down.”

“Right. Tell Soldier Boy, too, if y’see him.” Yeah. Cole saw him, alright. Ben’s eyes dare him to say something about it. “His own party and he’s M.I.A.”

Cole’s lips twitch. Ben’s eyes darken.

Obsidian’s footsteps echo down the hallway outside before Cole can say anything, though, and weighted seconds pass where neither Cole or Ben move. One crowded against a desk, the other crowding him.

Ben shoves past him once Cole’s mouth opens, the altered reality they’d found themselves in shattering around them. His shoulder knocks hard into Cole’s on his way out.

The door slams behind him, rattling in the frame against the hinges, leaving Cole to bear the weight of it all on his shoulders.

—

Downstairs, the rich and the influential sit at circular tables in the ballroom of the Plaza, dressed to the nines and muttering amongst themselves. Golden lights hang over each table, illuminating the tablecloth and their glittering wine and champagne glasses. The stage at the very back of the ballroom is the brightest; stage lights drown it in glowing white, a podium in the center and three chairs to right of it, an open space on the left.

“Hope you plan on dimming that,” Obsidian says from somewhere in the shadows over Cole’s shoulders. Sebastian Orville looks surprisingly steady on his feet and comfortable in this crowded setting for someone who hasn’t left his house in three months, minimum. Cole supposed three months was enough time to get his gravity shit in control, if anything.

His eyes are as stormy as ever, though, when Cole glances over his shoulder to look at him. Constantly shifting swirls of black and gray, so at odds with the rest of him. Messy curtains of sandy brown hair falling in his face, tan skin, strong jaw. He’s the most boyish of the Six’s men, in a way, and somehow one of the least human in what he does.

“How are you here?” Cole asks incredulously, scanning his form for any indication of what is possibly keeping him from sending every glass, every table, every person, from slamming into the ceiling.

His lips twitch, but before he can answer, Klara, Liberty, says in a false whisper, “they’ve got him shackled.”

Sebastian’s smile is wide and genuine for someone who’s housebound, and more than likely one with furniture floating around it like bubbles. He raises his folded hands up, sleeves falling down his elbows and revealing solid black shackles. “I am being very polite today.”

“Go on, let ‘im see how you walk,” Steven, Stratostorm, nudges him forward by the elbow. “He was shufflin’ around all over the lobby. Y’Shoulda been there.”

Cole would have rather ended his life than be around these idiots for longer than he has to now. “Yeah. Should’ve.” It was the alternative, though, to making out with Ben Anderson in his dressing room. Every single option felt like a fever dream.

Joanne, the youngest of them all, is silent, though Cole doesn’t need his stupid glasses to know why. Bloody Mary is a terror to most, the goddamn poster child for Vought Guard Dog in the same way that Soldier Boy is Vought’s special snowflake.

Obsidian and Stratostorm are still chatting in loud whispers behind Cole, with the occasional chime-in from Liberty. Still, though, there’s no sign of the man of the hour, and Cole can’t help but wonder if he ditched — and if somehow, he’s gonna find a way to flip the blame onto him.

Legend walks onto the stage, and the room’s buzz of chatter dies into soft murmurs of intrigue and interest. Here’s the man who manages the Six’s shit — or really just covers their asses. To these people, though, he must seem like a god instead of just a glorified public relations manager and string puller.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he starts into the rectangular microphone braced on the podium, “it is with great honor to announce to you the safe return of our Soldier Boy, and along with him, the end of the war.”

The room erupts into applause. Cole’s already bored, having heard variations of this speech in mindless gossip around the city and straight from the war-ender himself. “It’s another great honor to announce the attendance of the Six with us tonight—” A bright white spotlight bursts above them, illuminating the five of them, drawing the attention of every pampered head in the room. “All here to celebrate the re-arrival of leader Soldier Boy.”

Cole wanted to tell him that Soldier Boy couldn’t lead a duck to water, but whatever. He didn’t care that much. He cared more about the notable absence of Soldier Boy, knowing that the man wouldn’t ever miss an opportunity to hear about his accomplishments. His skin is crawling with unease over the unknowns that keep building up.

“Dim that shit,” Obsidian says again under his breath, “I haven’t seen the light of day in months. I’m going to fucking burst.”

Cole’s eyes roll. Not that he was listening to Legend rattle on about the united front that was supposed to be the Six — checkmate to Allie for having guessed that part of this speech right — but he was a little preoccupied trying to find someone. Someone who he’d made out with in his dressing room. Fuck.

Still, he glances up into the light, used to the way bright things burn his retinas at this point, as he turns the brightness down a few notches. Murmurs erupt in an undercurrent of sound beneath Legend’s speech. Cole doesn’t bother listening in to hear what they might be saying.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Legend says suddenly to an equally silent ballroom, “Soldier Boy.”

The answer to Ben’s initial question when he’d walked into Cole’s dressing room was, yes, this was killing him. Celebrating someone that he hated and that hated him was a great feat. Still, he can’t deny the rush of relief that floods his veins at the fact that Soldier Boy was up there, even if it meant that the room was deafening with their equal relief.

Klara leads the five of them around the back wall while they’re all distracted by whatever the hell Ben is saying — war talk, Cole imagines, or whatever war stories Ben can conjure up to make him look like God’s greatest gift.

The open space on the right of the stage was for them. To stand and be gawked at like zoo animals. Cole was already counting the seconds to when he could leave and slam a dirty martini or twelve.

“Now would be a good time,” Joanne whispers without moving her mouth much, her words slurring through her razor sharp teeth, “to unshackle Obsidian.”

A rare joke — rare words — from her. Cole can’t help but quirk a smile. She’s too young to be reduced to silence like she’s been. It wasn’t her fault people were scared of her.

“Strato’s got the key.” Obsidian jerks his head slightly in Stratostorm’s direction.

Stratostorm is less subtle with his reactions, head swiveling back and forth between the two of them, before his eyes land on Cole. He thinks, at least. The visor over his eyes makes it hard to tell. “I do not have the key.”

“What?” Obsidian splutters out, clearing his throat to try and cover it when the sound echoes off of the walls of the stage. Cole can’t help the burst of laughter that breaks free from his throat. Obsidian’s chains rattle in his outrage, bound wrists flailing at his waist, out of sight. “You fucking promised you wouldn’t lose it, you said—”

Their argument falls to the backburner of Cole’s mind, though, because his eyes make their way over to Ben at the podium, only to find him already looking at him on his strut to join them. Legend’s taking the podium again.

Ben settles next to Cole, arms deliberately not touching. Cole’s eyes dance to the ceiling, asking gods that long abandoned them for some strength. Then at the spotlights, dimming them, too — the last thing he wants is more attention on him than necessary while his face is red hot.

“What happened in—”

“Didn’t fucking happen,” Cole cuts him off, eyes straight ahead still, jaw ticking. “Don't Need your orders. Already got it.”

“Good.”

The rest of their time onstage, Cole doesn’t remember. He’s sure he blacked out in his efforts to ignore Ben right next to him— the heat of his body rolling off in waves. At some point, they were dismissed, and Cole went straight to the first server he saw, taking two martinis off of his tray without a second thought.

What he really needed was a cigarette. He gave himself ten minutes, though, before he excused himself from whatever useless conversation the equally useless politician had dragged him into. He really fucking hated these things.

Ben catches up to him before he can push open the exit door behind the stage, hoping for some semblance of illusion of privacy. Cole bristles, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don’t,” Ben grits out, his face unreadable and brutish at once.

“Fuck you, Ben,” he spits out, his eyes rolling instantly as if it was just second nature, dismissing any and every word out of his mouth, “I’m actually, physically and mentally, sick of your shit tod—”

“Can you shut the fuck up and listen for a second?” Ben snaps, eyes locked onto Cole’s and haunted. The sight of it is the only thing that snaps his mouth shut. “I’m being fucking serious. Don’t go out there.”

Cole has no other choice than to bite. “Why?”

“Obsidian’s dead.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGREATLY APPRECIATED!

tags: @jasvtsc @depressionbarbie2023 @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas (idk who else to tag the day i'm BLANKING i make a taglist is the day i'll see heaven)

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stuckonjbbarnes · 2 years ago

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sleepover with the oc's (& the boys crash it 👀) pls 🖤

The Proverbial Punching Bag {OCs x Marvel Mens}

Summary: Immediately following the ending to At Least Not Alone, the gang has a sleepover.

The OC Fics (in order of appearance)

A/N: Thanks for never giving up on me writing about my OCs and helping me remember who did what @buckysmischief

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“We’re still having a sleepover right? Steve didn’t ruin it, right?” Sasha whines.

“Yes, you’re all still welcome to stay, even Steve.” Sawyer adds before acknowledging her ex, “I forgive you for the way it ended. I don’t regret anything that happened after, so stop beating yourself up and let me be happy in my fucked up choices. Be happy with your own choices, that’s all we need.”

“I- knocking cuts Steve off.

“I’ll get it!” Jazzy jumps up, “I called in a reinforcement and he’s bringing more pizza!”

“YOU INVITED J?!”

The door swings open and like a flash Sawyer leaps over the couch and throws herself into a man. Pietro watches over his bottle of beer, as she’s twirled. The rest of the group watches in mostly confusion, save for Sam and Bucky who share a similar look of recognition.

“J? You guys know Joaquin?” Sam asks, attempting to piece something together.

“Know? I grew up with him!” Jazzy smiles, “He’s my favorite cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin.” Joaquin pouts, playfully jabbing her in the ribs.

“And therefore my undisputed favorite.”

“You know those two?” Sawyer throws a thumb over her shoulder towards Bucky and Sam, “I’m so sorry…”

“I’ve done a mission or two with Sam…Bucky, I see your sleeve is still intact today.” The man grunts in reply, not at all the Bucky that Sawyer was used to but rather reminiscent of his soldier days.

“Would it kill you to be nice to new people for 2 seconds?” Sasha unsurprisingly berates him, causing a blush to creep across Bucky’s cheeks.

“It actually might,” Sam smirks.

“Fuck off Sam.” Bucky gripes, causing the whole of the apartment to erupt in laughter.

“Wait…so you guys are like friends? I thought you hated each other.” Joaquin’s eyebrows knit together and he receives both looks of sympathy and some eyerolls.

“Frenemies.” Tali shrugs.

“No no. They love each other.” Monroe intercedes.

“They’re both boring. Can we move on to someone significantly cooler?” Jazzy asks.

“Thor?”

“Can we not bring my brother into this?” Loki groans.

“J, who are you texting? Sitting over there with a goofy ass grin on your face…” Sawyer turns her attention to Torres.

“Just the love of his lifeeee.” Sam teases.

“Her name is Wren. If you must know.” Joaquin says, eyes not moving from the screen, “She’s just a girl from Tinder.”

“...that he saved from a shitty date. Twice.” Sam adds, throwing pieces of popcorn at the man.

“Well I want to meet her.” Daisy pipes up, earning a round of ‘of course you dos’ from the group.

“No..no. Daisy’s right.” Sawyer agrees, “I’d like to meet her too.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time they shared feelings over something.” Scott chuckles.

“SHE THREW A POTATO AT HIM!” Loki and Tali both yell, much to Steve’s embarrassment.

“I think I’m missing something here.” Joaquin squints.

“It’s a lot to unpack.” Pietro shakes his head.

“I think you could write several movies with the amount of drama and hysterics in this friend group.” Sasha offers, “I would recommend running while you can.”

“It’s too late. He’s been introduced. He knows too much.” Tali smiles, looking less than friendly.

“Hey, miss witchy-woo, tone it down for like 5 seconds.” Scott interjects, “We’re making friends here.”

“This is the most fascinating night of my life…” Joaquin murmurs, “...and I’ve been curb stomped by a supersoldier.”

“BUCKY!” Sawyer’s jaw drops as she takes in her closest male friend.

“Woah. Woah. Woah…I did NOT.”

“Sorry…flag-smashers.” J attempts to hide his grin. “I don’t think I’d be here right now if Barnes did it…”

“I can’t believe you think I’d curb stomp someone, Sawyer.”

“Bucky…you killed the majority of my newsroom.” She defends herself, “All I’m saying is it could’ve happened.” “He’s only known me for a few months.” Joaquin interjects.

“Have you seen, Mr. Grumpy-face over there?” Monroe challenges, “If stares could kill.”

“I told him about the staring thing…” Sasha sighs.

“We’ve all told him Sash.” Sam adds.

“Can we stop ganging up on me?”

“See how not fun it is to be the proverbial punching bag?” Daisy asks.

“CALLING YOU EVERY FLOWER OTHER THAN DAISY WAS FUNNY…YOU TOLD ME YOU LAUGHED.” Sawyer cries, “I thought we moved on.”

“As the proverbial punching bag, I’d have to agree that it’s Bucky’s turn.” Steve nods.

“I hate you.”

“That’s your best pal.” Joaquin states, “...read about it at the Smithsonian.”

“And sometimes I hate him…”

“Sometimes we all hate each other.” Jazzy chimes in, “makes sleepovers more interesting.”

“So what do you say, Torres, you in the group or what?” Bucky asks and Joaquin breaks into a slow smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

ask to join my tag list! :)

#bucky x sasha #steve x daisy #sam x monroe #scott x jazzy #pietro x sawyer #loki x tali #marvel fan fiction #marvel #original characters #marvel au #joaquin torres #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #pietro maximoff #loki odinson #scott lang

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league-of-sam · 1 year ago

Text

As Grim as the Reaper | Simon 'GHOST' Riley PREQUEL

Ghost x Reader, Graves x Reader

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Phillip Graves x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

As Grim as the Reaper: Masterlist

You let out a gleeful squeal when you came across a hard drive, one that clearly had been missed when the destruction of the room had ensued.

Fiddling with the wires, you squatted to the floor in an effort to save the small square of electronics, whispering to yourself as your fingers worked to connect it to your handheld scanner.

Thank god for military-grade portable tech.

Yet another noise left your lips as the screen lit up, indicating that the hard drive still had a little life left in it.

"Found a hard drive. Still good."

"Good." Laswell spoke, "Take it, hopefully there'll be something useful on it. And keep an eye out, Shadow is still picking up something in the area."

"Solid copy, ma."

As you rose from your knees, shoving the small device into a pouch on your vest, the door behind you burst open with force, the metal making a clanging sound as it collided with the filing cabinet stacked behind.

Whipping around, you came face to face with two soldiers, each of them armed with an automatic weapon.

No match for your knives.

"Oh dear," you spoke with a smile, "Do you boys really think this is a good idea?"

The two men looked at you, then at each other, clearly baffled by your calm demeanour.

"Reaper? Baby, you good?"

"Two guys thought they'd get the drop on me."

"How stupid of them."

You could practically hear the proud grin in Graves' voice, which only riled up your confidence more.

The men raised their weapons, lasers pointed at your body, but you caught the way their hands shook.

"So, you sure wanna do this?" you asked once more, slowly unsheathing your knives.

One of the men scoffed, speaking with a heavy middle-eastern accent, "We have guns. You have knives. I'm sure we can handle the likes of a woman."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn ya."

With one last silent look between them, the men cocked their weapons, but you'd already lunged. One hand flung a knife, landing into the neck of the first soldier as you knocked the other to the ground.

Your other hand plunged your second knife deep into his abdomen before yanking it back out, only to raise it once more, and drive down into his chest.

Clean cut. No nonsense.

The Reaper claimed her victims.

Barely breaking a sweat, you rolled off the body, taking a few deep breaths.

"Targets eliminated, Actual. Two males, definitely Hassan's men."

"Good girl. Search them and get on the ground."

Laswell praised you, before her attention switched to General Shepherd and the Shadows, questioning how the fuck two AQ men got to you undetected, raving about how they were lucky as hell that you knew how to handle yourself.

You knelt down beside one body, rifling through the pockets for anything of use, verbally groaning in frustration as you came up empty. That was, until a flash of white poking out of the second man's shirt caught your attention.

Crawling over, you picked it up, unfolding it.

It was a list.

02.08.22. 1900. Ambush Check.

Ryan Stevens

Lucas Johnson

Emily Bradshaw

Javier Trace

Reaper

Your callsign sat at the bottom of the list, circled multiple times in a red ink that contrasted to the black of the names. A large question mark accompanied it.

Your brows furrowed as you frowned, confused as to why your real name was the only one missing from the list.

The mask.

They can't see you, so they don't know.

But there was one thing they did know - they knew you'd be coming, and this was a hit list.

"Fuck!" you yelled, scrambling to your feet.

Anger got the better of you, and your foot made hard contact with the body, a sickening crack echoing around the room as you reached for your radio with panicked breaths.

"Reaper to Actual, it-it's a trap! They know we're here!" you yelled. "Stevens, how copy?"

No response was received, causing you to relay your words again.

"It- Reap- Trap...Lt!"

The comms lagged, breaking up and crackling, and you continued to yell as you tried to get in contact with your team.

You stumbled over to the window, away from the bodies you'd left on the floor, reaching it just in time to see at least ten armed soldiers move on the warehouse.

Your breath caught in your throat, hand shaking as it reached up to your radio.

"Enemies inbound, repeat, Stevens get the hell out of there!"

The radio crackled as your team tried to reach you, you trying just as hard to reach them back as you shot your gun, taking out as many as you could from your position.

"They're in here! Under fire under fire!"

"C'mon Em we gotta go!" you heard Orlando yell.

"Lucas!"

"Lieutenant! Get out of there!"

Tears stung your eyes as even more enemies flooded from the woods, your team having managed to keep the others at bay, but there was no way they had the ammo to defend themselves from that.

You had to get there.

"Please!" you begged. "Get the fuck out of there! Go!"

"They're got us flanked!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Reaper, Shadow-1- do not engage, do not engage!"

You physically shook your head, shocked to hear Graves order you to stay put, "Fuck that Phillip! That's my team down there!"

"(Y/N)! Do. Not. Engage."

"Get out! Go!" you yelled into the radio once more.

Before you could even turn away from the window, let alone make it out of the tower, the ground rumbled. Flashes of colour lit up the sky as a missile launched from the overwatch helo, headed straight for the building containing your team.

Within seconds, it made impact.

"No!" you screamed; it was agonising for all those that could hear.

The blast had levelled the building almost immediately, it had blown the window through, shooting you backwards, sending glass cutting through your skin and scattered all over the floor.

You didn't need to call out to your team to know they didn't make it out of that.

You'd seen those missiles, knew how they worked, how destructive they were.

There's no fucking way they made it out of that.

Tears fell rapidly from your eyes as your hands tried to make sense of the ground in your dazed state. Your ears were ringing, heart pounding, lungs imploding from the smoke and dust. You dragged yourself along the floor, desperate to find something to haul yourself up.

"No...no, no no no..." you whispered, over and over.

By the time you got yourself up and to the window, the building was reduced to rubble. Flames billowed out, crackling and hot.

Yeah, no way anyone got out of that.

They were gone.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you let the tears fall freely in an effort to stifle your sobs, other hand clutching your chest, the desk, a chair. Anything to stabilise yourself to stop you falling to your knees once more.

"Target eliminated, Actual. Shadow 1 recommends extraction." Graves confirmed over the comms.

The feeling in your chest tightened.

Extraction?!

Was he not aware of what the fuck he just did?

"Graves you son of a b-bitch!"you sobbed out.

"What? I did my job, Reaper, you said go!"

"Not to you! My fucking team was still in there! You, you bastard...you just killed them all!"

There was silence on the radio, silence in the helo as Graves looked at the shocked faces of his Shadows looking back at him. Silence at base, where Laswell had her own tears falling at the sound of your anguish.

"Baby...no, I didn't- know I swear, oh fuck oh my god-"

Hurt turned into rage, the blood coursing through you heating up until all you saw was red. You stood, stumbling out of the room and down the stairs, hands gripping the rails as tears impaired your vision.

Looking up as you reached the ground, you let out a gasp as the building in front of you succumbed to the flames, crumbling to the ground.

There was nothing left of them.

Nothing.

You stepped forward, but fell to the floor as your legs failed to keep you upright, causing you to let out another painful wail, barely able to breathe, suffocating from the loss of your team.

They were your fucking responsibility and they're gone.

"Reaper, report...please baby talk to me I- I'm so sorry please."

You couldn't answer.

"Baby, stay where you are. I-I'm coming."

And hearing the cracking in Graves' voice only fuelled your rage more. He had the nerve to be upset, to be hurt, after what he just did?

You had to get them out.

They needed you.

They yelled for you.

"Reaper, don't!"

Without realising, you'd spoken out loud.

You leapt from the ground, feet pushing you forward at a speed you hadn't reached before, pushing for the building.

You were almost there, almost to your team, their screams getting louder as you got closer.

"Baby! Stop!" a voice yelled from behind you, but you ignored it.

You kept running, duty pushing you forward.

A hand caught yours, yanking you back, stopping you in your tracks, "(Y/N)! God damn it, stop!"

The momentum turned you, slamming you into the body in front. Looking through you dampened lashes, you came face to face with your fiancé, who had jumped from the helo to come and get you.

He did this.

"Stop! Get off!" you fought back, pushing Graves away from you, but he was quicker, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. "Stevens! Javi! Graves get the fuck off me they're shouting for me-!"

"They're gone...they're gone, baby, stop."

You continued to punch, hit, scream, anything to weasel out of his grip and run to your team, run towards their screaming voices.

They were there, you swore it.

"Get off me! Can't you hear them screaming?! They need me!" you whimpered.

Graves bit his lip, holding back his own tears, "No one is yelling for you, baby, they're gone..."

"They're not fucking gone! They're shouting for me they need help! Why won't you help...why won't you..."

Your movements slowed as you sobbed through your words, each hit feeling like a tickle to Graves, who held you close, his own tears forming at your broken state.

"W-why..." your voice cracked, "h-help them...please, Phillip...why won't you- they need me-"

His hands moved to hold your face, forcing your eyes to look into his and away from the massacre ahead.

So beautifully blue.

"I'm so so sorry, baby." he whispered, thumbs rubbing your cheeks, "They're gone...they're gone."

You scanned his face, desperate for him to say he was joking, to show he wasn't serious. But it didn't come, and your team really was gone.

Opening your mouth, only a small sound came out, and the tears fell once more before your legs gave out, and you dropped. He was there to catch you, moving with you, falling to the floor and pulling you onto his lap to hold you close as you sobbed into his chest, hands clawing at him for any kind of stability.

He smoothed your hair with one hand, keeping you tight against him, as the other locked around your waist, allowing you to cry with some kind of privacy as Shadow soldiers seeped from the forest to contain the blaze.

Your team wad dead.

Because of him.

He was here and they were dead.

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