#two restless sergeants together

[ask-sgtcrow]

Truth was… Nico had been restless. Going from being out and fighting consistently to absolutely nothing was causing him to feel crazy. He was lacking a schedule, a set plan, that kept his mind busy.

He wasn’t sure how Crow could help that… as far as he knew, the man was stuck in bed due to back pain. Maybe he shouldn’t be bothering him.

Yet he sent the text anyway.

[ You busy? ]

[ If you are it’s fine.]

[ Sorry, forgot you were feeling like shit. ]

- @sgt-fluffy

Bedrest was the worst, soul sucking with how boring it got sitting in his bed doing nothing.

Which was why Crow wasn’t on bedrest. No, instead of following doctor’s orders, the man was up and about in his room, rushing between different hobbies to keep his mind occupied and the medics on base stressed.

He was sitting at his desk working on a new sewing project when his phone buzzed with a new notification, a new text, from Nico.

He was typing back as soon as he could, lips tugged into a soft smile while his fingers ran over the keyboard, practically buzzing with the idea of having another thing to keep busy with.

[ i wouldn’t say shit ]

[ ah whatever, no i’m not that busy, pls tell me what you want pup ]

[ oh wait is everything okay? do i need to beat up the recruits again? ]

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

[axelnyx]

Pt2 of trans soap + poly!141

part 1

Fic Name: Angry Again

Chapter 2: Keeping It Tactical

can also be read on ao3

Sleep didn’t come easy when Soap finally dragged himself back to base and into bed. The sergeant laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he replayed the conversation with his parents over and over in his head. It’s not like it’s the first time they had said things like that to him, but it still hurt. Stirring up old memories and emotions Soap had hoped to leave behind him. Bitterness began to build in his chest, leaving him even more tense and restless.

The night drags on and Soap is still awake by the time Gaz stumbles into their shared room. He lifts his head as his friend enters the room, his fellow sergeant trying- and failing- to be quiet. Soap’s anger quickly fades away into mild amusement as he hears Gaz let out a quiet curse when the Brit accidentally closes the door a bit harder than he had meant to. “Have a bit too much fun, Ky?” Soap teases, his voice startling Gaz slightly. “Tav? Why’re you awake? Thought ya were tired?” Gaz questions, his words slightly slurred as he stumbled over to Soap’s bed.

Soap rolls his eyes fondly, sitting up slightly and reaching out a hand to grab Gaz’s arm and steady him. “Ah was,” Soap replies as he helps his friend settle onto the bed next to him, “But, when I laid down, I couldnae fall asleep. Ye ken how it is.” Gaz simply hums in acknowledgement as he lays next to Soap and curls up next to his fellow sergeant’s side. Soap chuckles as he shifts to lean over the brit, drawing an annoyed huff from Gaz. “Hold on a mo’.” The scot says as he leans down to unlace Gaz’s boots, pulling them off and letting them fall carelessly onto the floor. Afterwards, Soap lays back down, wrapping his arms around Gaz before pulling the covers over them both.

There was no awkwardness as they laid together, the two sergeants having been in a similar position many times before. They spent most nights in the same bed despite having their own separate ones in the room. They found that the presence of someone familiar, someone they trusted, made it a lot easier to sleep and come down from the nightmares that, more often than not, plagued their dreams. A ‘tactical cuddle’ Gaz had called it when Ghost had found the two sergeant’s tangled up together on the couch in the team’s common room after a particularly hard mission. Soap had, of course, backed the other man up. Earning a look from the lieutenant that felt all too knowing. Like he could see something that Soap himself wasn’t even aware of yet. 

“G’night, Tav.” Gaz mumbles, his face buried in Soap’s chest. “Night, Ky.” Soap replies softly, holding Gaz just a bit tighter. The brit is out like a light within moments and Soap finds himself quickly drifting off to sleep as well.

The next morning, Soap is rudely awoken by his alarm. He and Gaz’s position had changed throughout the night. Now, they laid with Soap spooning the other sergeant, his arms wrapped around Gaz’s waist. Soap groans with annoyance, his arms tightening around Gaz as he buries his face in the man’s back, silently hoping his alarm would magically turn off by itself. “Tav, if you don’t turn that damn thing off I’m going to throw your phone across the room.” He hears Gaz grumble, his voice tired and raspy. Soap huffs and reluctantly untangles himself from Gaz, leaning over the brit to hit the dismiss button on his phone that lay on his nightstand. He feels Gaz relax the second the alarm turns off, the other man letting out a sigh of relief. “How ye feeling?” Soap questions with a teasing tone and an all-too-knowing smirk on his face. “Ask me somethin’ stupid like that again and I’ll tell Price you’re the one that hid his cigars.” Gaz says flatly in reply, cracking an eye open to glare up at the scot who was still leaned half over him. Soap chuckles as he climbs out of bed, careful not to jostle his fellow sergeant too much. “Shouldnae have drank so much. Yer lucky we didnae have ta train any rookies today.” He replies, jokingly scolding the other man. Gaz huffs, giving Soap the middle finger before turning over and pulling the covers over his head.

Soap lets out another amused chuckle before walking over to the mini fridge in their room and grabbing a bottle of water out of it. “Here,” He says as he walks back over to his bed. Gaz groans as he pulls the covers back and forces himself to sit up. He takes the bottle of water from Soap’s hand as Soap opens the top drawer of his nightstand and grabs a bottle of ibuprofen, handing it to Gaz as well. He watches as Gaz takes two of the pills and downs half the bottle of water. “Yer gonna make yerself sick,” Soap huffs as he takes the bottle of ibuprofen back and puts it back in the drawer of his nightstand. As he does, Soap sees his phone light up with a notification.

The scot picks up his phone and unlocks it before going to his recent messages. Soap’s mood instantly sours when he sees a message from his father. Against his better judgement, he opens the message, his eyes scanning over the words. “Don’t come crying to us when your teammates see through your little act and abandon you. We’re just trying to help you, but you’re obviously hellbent on making us the bad guys.”

Soap’s hand tightens around his phone as he clenches his jaw. “Tav? You alright, mate?” Gaz’s voice asks in an apprehensive tone. Soap looks over at his friend, seeing the concerned furrow of his brows as the brit glances between Soap’s face and the phone. Soap quickly forces a smile and turns off his phone, setting it back on the nightstand. “Aye. Right as rain. Cannae say the same for ye though.” He replies with a playful jab towards Gaz’s disheveled appearance. “Fuck off, ya twat.” The brit huffs lightheartedly, grabbing one of Soap’s pillows and chucking it at the other sergeant.

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

By the time Soap manages to drag Gaz out of bed and to the mess hall, breakfast is almost over. The dining area is mostly empty save for a few rookies who woke up late, and the familiar figures of Price and Ghost, who were sitting at the team’s usual table. The two sergeants quickly went and grabbed their trays, piling them with food. Soap makes himself a cup of coffee while Gaz grabs a bottle of water before they both make their way over to the table. Both Ghost and Price were nursing their own respective cups of tea, earning an eye roll from Soap. “Ye brits and yer tea.” The sergeant says playfully as he takes a seat next to Ghost, Gaz opting to take the spot next to Price.

Price lets out a small amused huff at Soap’s quip. “Bit of a late start to the day, sergeants.” Ghost speaks up pointedly as he takes a sip from his cup. To anyone else, it would seem like Ghost was about to scold them, but Soap could see the small upward tilt of the lieutenant's lips. “Isnae mah fault,” The scot complains as he starts to dig into his food, “Someone didnae want ta get outta bed.” He shoots a pointedly look towards Gaz, earning a glare from the other man. Price rolled his eyes fondly at the two sergeant’s antics and the team soon found themselves falling into their familiar rhythm of banter and playful conversations.

About halfway through eating, Soap felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. The sergeant set the cup of coffee he was sipping from down and pulled his phone out. He unlocked it and saw he had gotten another message. Biting his bottom lip, Soap hesitated before opening it. It was from his mother this time. “Stop being selfish and talk to us. We’re your family.” It read. Soap didn’t bother dignifying it with a response as he shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

He looked back down at his half eaten tray of food, his appetite suddenly no longer present. Soap used his fork to push around the food on his plate with disinterest.

Was he being selfish? Sure, his parents weren’t exactly the best, but they were still his family. They at least seemed to be trying to make an effort to reconnect. Right? Why else would they call him after all these years?

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food, Johnny?”

Ghost’s voice suddenly cuts through Soap’s thoughts. Soap looks up to see his teammates looking at him with varying degrees of concern. The scot smiles as turns to look at Ghost. “Aye, Lt,” Soap replies jovially, “But Ah’ve never been very good wit’ manners.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Price comments as he takes a sip of his tea. The captain’s gaze remained locked on Soap however, his eyes critical as they roamed over the sergeant’s face. Soap rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, “Ye ken ye love me,” He teases with a playful wink as he stands from the table.

Gaz looks up at Soap with a raised eyebrow. “Where are you going?” He questions the scot pointedly. Soap shrugs his shoulders as he picks up his tray of half-eaten food. “Ah got paperwork tha’ Ah need ta finish.” He replies nonchalantly as he goes to grab his empty mug. He stops short as Ghost reaches his hand out and places it on top of the mug to keep it in place. Soap huffs before turning to give the lieutenant an impatient look.

“It’s a rest day,” Ghost says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Aye, I ken, but ah need ta get it done while ah’m thinking about it or it willnae get done at all,” the sergeant argues. Ghost shows no indication of caring as he continues to give Soap the same flat look, his hand still gripping the mug. “Simon is right, Soap,” Price speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. Soap turned to the captain with a look of slight disbelief. He can’t count the amount of time Price had gotten onto him for turning in reports late, and now the captain was telling him not to do them? Now that just didn’t make any sense in Soap’s mind. “But, Cap-,” He goes to argue, but snaps his mouth shut as Price shakes his head. “I’m not saying you can’t get any of it done. I know how you are, lad, and you're right. If you don’t get something done while you're thinking about it, it won’t get done,” Price continues.

A satisfied and triumphant grin forms on the sergeant’s face as he looks back at Ghost. His grin grows a bit as he sees the obvious displeasure in his body language, the lieutenant all but glaring at Price. Gaz clears his throat as he faces Price. “As much as I agree with you, Cap, I think Soap should take the day off with the rest of us. Whether he thinks he needs it or not,” He says, throwing a sharp pointed look at Soap as if daring the other sergeant to object. “I wasn’t finished speaking,” Price replies bluntly. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table and giving Soap a stern look.

“You have an hour, Sergeant. That should be enough time to get a bit of your paperwork done. After that, you are to report to the common room. Understood?” The captain orders. Soap’s expression turns serious as he quickly nods his head. “Aye, sir,” He acknowledges. Price nods his head before looking at Ghost and giving the lieutenant a pointed look.

Soap watches as Ghost hesitates a moment, his hand tightening on the mug before he reluctantly lets it go. Soap smiles in delight as he plucks the mug off the table before walking away. He dumps his left over food before depositing his dirty dishes with the others. Afterwards, he turns to face his team. He's a bit caught off guard when he sees them all watching him closely, but quickly brushes it off and gives a playful salute and walks out of the mess hall.

[wherearedagrapes]

@ficsinhistory I started to reply to you and then it got way too long, so I hope it’s okay if I do it this way instead! Sonic has reservations about revealing himself as an alien. But I definitely think Tom’s (initially kind of hidden or downplayed around others ig) silly, eccentric side appeals to Sonic, among other things.

Before they meet, Sonic gets to see Tom’s most authentic self — who Tom is when no one else is watching (that Tom knows of). And what Sonic sees is someone who’s not always cool, sarcastic, and witty but goofy and… weird? Loony? Embarrassing? Like I said, there’s talking to donuts, and then there’s creating characters out of them, crafting little arms and legs, and playing pretend with them lmao Tom has a donut buddy named Sergeant Sprinkles, and he eats the other donuts “when they get out of line.” (Think about how regularly this must occur for Sonic to define Tom by this, comparable to Maddie doing routine yoga on the back porch… 💀)

We see Tom acting like a goober when he (thinks he) is alone in other ways too, like pretending he’s catching speeding cars with his radar gun before accidentally hitting himself in the face or joking around with the turtle crossing the road or just loudly proclaiming, “I’M BORED,” to no one. This is how the movie introduces us to him. Our first impression of Tom is a Tom that thinks he is alone, a Tom that only Sonic sees: A goofy, restless guy that’s bored with his job, that wants something exciting to happen.

I’ve no doubt that Sonic seeing that side of Tom makes Tom feel approachable and safe. Sonic admires Tom because Tom looks out for the town. He’s strong, brave, and compassionate, heroic, “defender of creatures big and small.” But Sonic wants to be Tom’s friend because Tom’s funny and weird and cool (and they both like action movies!) I think — much the way Sonic calls Maddie “Pretzel Lady” because they do yoga together and she’s flexible — the same is true for Tom being the goofy and weird “Donut Lord.” These are things that Sonic both finds funny about them and likes about them, and it’s how he connects with them.

Tom and Sonic share the same values and they have similar personalities. Sonic can certainly relate to a guy that goofs off, makes bad jokes, and talks to himself when he’s bored lmao (and in the novelization, I heard Tom acknowledges that Sonic reminds him of himself when he was a kid). In the following movies, those similarities become more pronounced imo, as Sonic matures and as Tom leans more into his inner cartoon. Which is another thing I love. Sonic awakens Tom’s paternal instincts, but he also pulls Tom’s existing silly, eccentric “Donut Lord” side out.

Tom goes from being embarrassed and irritated to embracing the nickname and his connection to Sonic. He’s still a little embarrassed at the end of the first movie, as he refuses to elaborate when Maddie questions why Sonic calls him “Donut Lord.” But fast-forward two movies and Tom’s knitted a goofy sweater with the title spelled proudly across the front. He’s graduated from Sergeant Sprinkles to Little Tom, a weird puppet he teases his family with. That silly, eccentric side of him is not so hidden or downplayed anymore, and he’s never seemed happier :) But anyway.

This is all a long-winded way of saying I agree with you! lol I think Sonic relating to Tom is the biggest reason Sonic grows emotionally attached to him over all the other people in Green Hills. Basically like ‘that guy’s so funny and weird. He’s just like me fr’

[sky-is-the-limit]

"It's what friends do."

P:F!Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

CW: Afab Reader,Infedelity,

NSFW,Oral(recieving)

Song Rec: Friends by Chase Atlantic

WC: 2,560 words

Notes: @chai-isms had this lovely idea and I just had to extend it.. :)

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer!

____________________________________

"Okay, okay, I get it. You missed me." He murmures softly, a wide grin spreading across his face. You can hear his heartbeat as you hug, a soothing rhythm that calmes your nerves, one hand cupping the back of your head gently. His leather jacket is cold against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath against your temple. You barely had time to brush your hair and hastily put on your pj's before answering the door, excitement washing over you knowing who's behind it.

"Damn right I did, you idiot." I still do, you wanted to admit. You always do. Saudade is difficult to deal with, it deepens when there’s nothing you can do to bring a person back to you and especially when death can easily fall into the equation. It always takes a few days for you to calm your restless heart down, sooth it that he's safe back home, where Sergeant Garrick is put to rest and Kyle gets to breathe again, alive once more.

You'd think that repetition makes it easier with time until you remember that your hug is a foreshadowing of the goodbye that would later tear you apart. It always does and there's nothing to fill the immeasurable emptiness until you can see kind amber eyes staring back into yours.

"Hey, I'm right here, all in one piece. I'm here." Now his lively cheekiness turns into reassuring whispers, as though he can sense your worried thoughts. You can feel his grip tighten, hearts thumping in unison to the sound of gentle rain landing on the ground outside.

You and Kyle are like magnets. Always finding your way back to each other no matter what. It's rare to find a friendship like yours, even more complex to describe it. You met five years ago when your dearest cousin started dating one of his closest friends, mutual gatherings bringing you closer together until you became inseparable. It wasn't abnormal for people to assume that there was something more between the two of you.

You won't lie to yourself that thoughts as such never creeped in. Thinking of all the late nights you'd spent covertly admiring his profile, he had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. A smile bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the room along with unusually sharp canines in contrast with his soft features.

He is striking, as if angels had carved his looks and you'd be a horrendous liar if you dared to say otherwise.

''I missed you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear.'' He finally untangles his arms from your body, hesitantly at first, then stands a foot apart, unwilling to completely let go. A sense of completeness washed over you, as if the hug had filled a void only he could create and make disappear. Kyle's eyes twinkle, accompanying the familiar playful tone in his voice before his gaze flicker past you, giving his attention elsewhere.

''Is he coming tonight?'' Oh. Him. You don't even have to match his gaze's direction to know he's staring at one of the photos on the wall. With Kyle's return, you forgot that the rest of the world existed, even your own boyfriend. The bitterness in his voice crystal clear matching the subtle frown on his lips.

They never liked each other, really. Always competing for the number one spot in your heart as if that question wasn't already answered with the way you look at solely one of them.

It hasn't been long since you've started dating Eric, a timid, gentle soul with strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He is handsome, no doubt. Always treating you with kindness and respect, giving you his undivided attention and time like every proper boyfriend should. Yet every time you look at him, you get reminded of the awful motive hiding behind the start of your relationship. He is Kyle's polar opposite.

It's fucked up, you know it. The moment cold realization washed over you like a thousand crushing waves that you might feel more for Kyle, you immediately said yes to the first person who showed interest in you. Someone who reminded you nothing of the man who offered you sleepless nights, wondering if he's still breathing under the same sky. A deluded solution to a problem that cannot be resolved.

"Uh, no. He's stuck at work, so he'll probably stay at his place tonight." The growing smirk that was plastered all over his face the second you mumbled those words was transparently clear, no ounce of shame behind filthy thoughts forming in his mind.

"Good, I deserve some time alone with you." He leers at you, eyebrow arching.

"Kyle-" You try to look away, eyes darting around the kitchen but inevitably drawn back to his.

"Obviously, you needed someone to fill the time now that I was gone." His forwardness doesn't surprise you one bit. Though you attempt to keep a cool demeanour, your body is practically vibrating with anticipation. You keep your eyes locked in his, arms over your chest as though to keep your trembling heart from jumping out.

"What makes you think he's not enough?" Your playful provocation works wonders. He looks at you with his mismatched gaze, daring. A fainted gasp escapes your lips, eyes widening as he suddenly closes the distance between you with a purposeful stride. 

"You want proof now, Y/N?" Kyle murmurs, thumbs tracing your abdomen over your soft cotton shirt, teasing at the waistband of your shorts. He took a step closer, leading you to press your lower back against the kitchen table whilst holding your gaze, completely still, clearly just torturing you at this point. Suddenly, you feel Kyle's cool fingers smooth over your bare thigh, and you instinctively jerk your leg away. You don't mean to, your skin is warm, and his hands are frigid.

"How about the countless nights of you calling me after he leaves so I can finish what he couldn't?" His fingers gently touch the side of your neck, caressing it softly as the words melt into your system, bringing back the agreement you so desperately missed while he was away. You had initially brushed it off as sexual frustration mixed with alcohol and your disoriented brain when it first happened. Oh, how naive you were.

A New year's eve party, a drunken kiss and a soft whispered 'I want you' brought both of you back to your cold apartment, flaming skins and shameless moans disturbing the deafening silence of the night. It started happening more frequently, as if your body was subconsciously begging for his touch and he was always aware. Perhaps it was the deep rooted loneliness that led to this, Kyle with his isolated job and you with your self -destructive tendencies.

How utterly wrong you were. You desperately told yourself that once you get a proper boyfriend, you'd put an end to this. Your body had a different reaction to your plans, rejecting your boyfriend's touch as if Kyle engraved his name onto it and it will accept no other.

"Fuck, this is so wrong-" You admit, a little breathless as if the words have no meaning behind them. The guilt vanished the moment you saw him again.

"It's what friends do, right?" Goosebumps slither down your spine as he whispers in your ear, lips gently grazing your lobe and your hips buck slightly, desperately at the lightest touch. To your surprise, his erection is readily felt on your thigh through the thick layer of his jeans, making you quiver instinctively.

"Help one another when one's in need, hm?" A surge of arousal hits your body instantly, feeling the near instant reaction between your thighs arising by the second. You can't help but shudder as he runs his thumb over your clothed nipple, your breasts heaving as you breathe rapidly. You ache for him like a starved animal locked in a cage for far too long.

"And I'm gonna show you, what a good fucking friend I am." Kyle informs you, his lips descending hungrily upon yours. Before you can respond, he scoops you up in one swift sweep, wrapping your legs around his waist. You catch yourself wanting to curse your reflection out for ever complaining that he needs to spend less time at the gym whilst he carries you like nothing, setting you down on the table without ever so much as lessening the strength of his kiss. His tongue dances around yours, stopping only to bite and pull at your lower lip.

It didn't take long for him to start trailing sloppy kisses from your jaw to your pulse, biting the place at the base of your neck where it connected your shoulder, then sucking the skin and licking over the freshly formed bruise. The thought of the mess awaiting for you tomorrow when your mind is clear from his intoxication, briefly creeps in and disappears with the same pace, every muscle in your body clenching to his mercy.

''Fuck, I missed you.'' He breathes, voice thick and gravelly with need and desire, before tucking his head into the base of your neck to take a long, shuddering breath in, his hands scurrying hungrily over your hips, thighs, and stomach, as if he's trying to remember your perfume, your body all over again.

''Show me.'' Please, you want to add but the words are lodged in your throat and get swallowed down the moment he brings his gaze back up to meet yours, lips brushing your own softly. You'd ruin yourself for him, turn your life upside down, all he had to do was say the word.

''You want me to take care of you, love?'' He asks breathlessly, his nose nuzzling against yours gently, sending blood up to redden your cheeks furiously to the sound of the sweet endearment. The words were soft like a blanket, pulling at your heart.

''Yes, please.'' A soft whine escapes your parted lips softly, your hips arcing upwards desperately to try and meet his. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, screaming for him and him alone.

''You know I will.'' He murmurs, eyes darkening proportionally with each new inch of skin exposed as his fingertips slid underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. ''I always do.'' No doubt ever crossed your mind when it comes to him, yet it's never needless to have him say it, voice oozing with desire.

''Beautiful.'" He whispers, tugging your bra cups down so your breasts were over the fabric of your shirt, making you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development. Gasping at his touch, you grind yourself against him, desperate for contact while he immediately begins sucking, biting, and licking your nipple while grabbing the other breast with his right hand, massaging it firmly.

''I need more- please Kyle!'' Your nails drag down his forearms, creating red lines impatiently and you're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, skin on fire contradicting the cold sweat slipping down your spine.

“That bad, hm?” He asks, slyly grinning against your burning skin. Even in these circumstances, he’s a cocky bastard, knowing exactly how lonely it felt without him, even with a warm body sleeping beside you. He quickly moves down so your thighs are on his shoulders, stretching between them, his cheek caressing against familiar softness. Your black laced undergarments slip off your body with ease, and you’re left bare under his hungry gaze.

He turns his attention to your soaked cunt, folds glistening with your overflowing slick. Without hesitation, he presses his lips against your slit, licking painfully slow your arousal and groaning at the taste of you.

Oh, if he only knew how many sleepless nights you spent with your own hand right where his mouth currently savors you, wishing it was him instead.

''Kyle-'' You moan his name like a desperate prayer, voice feeble and croaky to his touch. If your neighbors weren't already aware of his return, they are now. He shoots you a quick, sly smirk from between your legs before turning his focus to the task at hand, zeroing in on your clit, sucking tenderly as your legs clip down automatically around his ears, trembling.

His tongue is painfully, awfully delicate and torturously slow as it circles your sweet spot. In need to feel more pressure, you try to lift your hips into the pleasure as his grasp tightens on your thighs, promising blue shaded marks to appear so to hold you into place.

''I'll make up for the time I spent away from you.'' He drawles between tongue flicks, amber eyes fixed up at your face, not wanting to miss a second. Both of your hands were now gripping the table edge as you arch your back to the sensation, your core throbbing with pleasure.

''Your fingers-'' Before you could even finish your request, his plump lips rested against your clit, sucking it with need as he inserts two fingers inside of you with ease, curling them upwards to hit your spot instantly. His fingers fuck into you slowly, agonizing, matching the pace of his tongue flickering every inch of you. You jolt as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you grip the wooden edges so tight, your fingernails might leave marks underneath.

''All yours, baby.'' His voice sounds so broken and wrecked, he craves this as much as you, if not more. Your fingers tug at his hair, desperate for something to keep yourself grounded. The sound that escapes his lips is so feral, almost like a growl. His pace is brutal, and your eyes blur with stars as he hits the deepest parts inside of you with his long fingers over and over. 

You can feel the orgasm building inside of you with each thrust of his fingers, threatening to leave you shaking and breathless in a way no man could ever quite manage.

Kyle humms softly, and your toes curl as the sound washes over you like a heated wave.

"You taste so good, fuck-" He whispers breathlessly before licking you again, slower and more deliberately than before. The action draws a sharp cry from your lips which is quickly stifled as you bite down on them, squirming under the flickers of sensation. It never fails to surprise you how easily he can read your body language, as though you're connected and so he quickens his pace, working in broad strokes, sliding against the sides of your labia.

You can no longer control the moans and whimpers that leave you as he laps at your cunt, white dots your vision as the orgasm hits you hard, your whole body shaking with the sudden release of tension. When Kyle finally tugs his fingers out, your walls clench around them, almost like your body was trying to keep them inside for as long as possible. It was heady, intoxicating and you couldn't get enough.

Speechless, your hand reaches down to his face, tracing the outline of it with your fingertips.

''Don't mention it.'' Kyle chuckles at your loss of words, raising himself up so he can press a soft kiss on your cheek, before bringing his hand to his lips, allowing himself to taste your arousal soaking his fingertips.

''It's what friends do.''

[wildechildwrites]

Corn Syrup

Johnny "Soap" McTavish/Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, Miscommunication Trope, Light Injury/Violence, Angst, Smut (lol)

No Use of Y/N

Summary: You get injured in combat and Soap has been acting weird since. He won't even talk to you.

A/N: I hate the no communication Trope as much as the rest of you but I promise the pay off is good. Kensington Gore is a short companion piece to this fic that's Unrequited! Ghost/Soap/Reader

AO3 Link: Corn Syrup

The blood seeping through your uniform is bright red, and as you idly dip your hand lower, scooping some up on your fingers, all you can think is how fake it looks. Corn syrup blood, like in the movies. You let out a disbelieving laugh, locking eyes with Soap before a feverish pain slams through you like a ton of bricks and you crumple.

Your team fusses around you, hurrying to get you back to base while Soap holds steady pressure on your wound. You can’t stop laughing about the blood, about how unreal it is that it’s yours and that there’s so much.

“Jesus lass, you’d think bein’ shot would be enough ta shut you up,” Soap said, his voice sounding floaty and above your head. You blink hard to clear the fuzziness around your eyes. Another laugh bubbles out of your throat.

“If you’d prefer me silent, Sergeant, I can think of a few ways you could shut me up,” you slur back provocatively. Johnny doesn't laugh like he’s supposed to, only presses his mouth into a thin line. His face is the last thing you see before everything fades to black.

— — — —

It’s your first time back on base since you’ve been shot. Your recovery had been relatively quick, but you were still itching to get back into the field, and back to your squad. They had all visited you while you were recovering, aside from one glaring omission.

Johnny.

You’d seen neither hide nor hair of the Scotsman for the duration of your hospital stay. Even Ghost had come to see you, looking stark and ridiculous in the fluorescent lights. You had tried to broach the subject with him, meekly asking after Soap, but Ghost had just stared at you, his light blue eyes unreadable, until you had dropped the subject.

You and Johnny had always had a close relationship. He had been the first to fully embrace you as a member of 141, and you two had been attached at the hip since then. You trained together more than with anyone, constantly cracking jokes and poking fun at each other.

You also had a deep, intense infatuation with him.

You tried to keep it under wraps, terrified of making him feel uncomfortable and ruining the deep friendship you two had. You tried to avoid any physical contact unless absolutely necessary, keeping things platonic to the extreme and constantly dodging the sexual innuendos Soap was always lobbing at you.

There had been moments of tension of course, mostly under heavy stress, where it had felt as if his gaze had lingered longer than usual, but you knew it was all in your head. There had been a single drunken kiss after a successful mission, but it hadn’t meant anything to him.

The unit had gone out to celebrate, and Soap, not being one to shirk a Scottish stereotype, had gotten absolutely sloshed. The rest of the team had left the booth you were occupying to try their hand at beating Ghost at pool, and Soap, unable to stand, had scooted closer to you, grabbing your waist with his large hands and pulling you into him, smelling strongly of liquor and muttering about how you were ‘bonnie’. Then he kissed you, and your world ended because he tasted like whiskey and made your brain turn to goo and your toes tingle, so you retreated to the bathroom like a coward and never brought it up again.

You had wished desperately that he would visit you in the hospital. You were restless and couldn’t figure out why he would be avoiding you, eventually coming to the conclusion that you had scared him off, that your delirious joke had made him uncomfortable enough that he needed to distance himself from you. Your chest ached at the thought. You had managed to do the one thing you had been trying desperately to avoid, ruining the best friendship you’ve ever had in a careless, blood-soaked moment.

Debriefing made it painfully obvious that Soap avoiding you was not just in your head. Everyone was excited to see you, and even Captain Price had given you a quick but firm hug.

“Good to have you back,” he said gruffly. Gaz beamed at you from where he sat and you felt yourself grinning, before your eyes fluttered to Soap and your face fell. Soap sat in the corner of the room next to Ghost, staring resolutely at his boots. You spent the entire briefing half listening, trying to get Johnny to at least meet your eye. After the meeting, he darted out of the room and you decided to go after him, running out the door.

“Soap!” You called out, but the Scottish man just turned the corner like he hadn’t heard you. It felt like someone had sucker punched you in the chest. You really had ruined everything. He wouldn’t even acknowledge your existence. Ghost silently slid in place beside you, and you looked up at him desperately, the confusion evident in your eyes. He put a hesitant hand on your shoulder. Your throat felt tight, and you ducked away from him, making a break for your room.

Days have gone by, and Soap continues to ignore your existence. You were an over tuned guitar string, constantly close to snapping. Soap and Ghost were training in the gym together throwing punches when you walked through the door, intent on the treadmills to help relieve some stress. Both men looked up at you and Soap immediately turned and headed towards the locker room.

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You don’t understand why he hated you this much. It hurt. You just wanted your friend back but he wouldn’t even let you close enough to apologize for whatever you did wrong. You could feel Ghost’s eyes on you again and you turn away, trying to hide your tears. You leave the gym and walk quickly back to your room, your head down. You closed the door and let out a sob.

You cry until your chest hurts and your nose runs like a facet, curled up in your bed under the covers. When you were out of tears, you lay there silently, staring blankly at the wall. Someone knocks, but you don’t react. Your door creaks open.

“Lass?” Soap calls out, his voice a mere whisper. His heavy footsteps draw nearer to your blanketed sanctuary. You let out an audible sigh, turning over and sitting up to glare at him, hair mussed and nose puffy.

“You've been avoiding me.” You croak. Soap has the decency to look ashamed of himself. “You didn’t even visit me in the hospital. Not even once.”

You level him with a stare he’s only ever seen when you’d slotted a knife in between a man’s ribs, and Johnny feels the same distinct sensation of agony stabbing in his chest.

Then everything is spilling out of him at once, words tumbling between his lips before his brain can hope to catch up.

“I couldn’t stand ta face you. Seeing you like that nearly made me lose my fuckin’ mind. Cacklin’ like a banshee, bleedin’ everywhere and then you looked up at me with those eyes… Christ lass, I was unraveling.” Soap’s knees hit the bed, and suddenly he's kneeling next to you, closer than he’d been since that fateful mission.

You stare at him in shock. His voice is edging near hysterical. “Could barely keep it together enough to keep the pressure on the bleedin’. And then you blurt out that stupid fuckin’ line, something you'd never say, damn near delirious, and I realized that the girl I’d been pinin’ after for months was gonna die in my arms.”

“Johnny,” you whisper, but he carries on, the waterfall of words continuing without interruption.

Then his lips are on yours, and you don’t taste the whiskey this time, but your toes tingle and your brain melts just the same. Your hands go for his hair, fingers curling in his mohawk, and he lets out a keening sound against your lips, dragging you closer to him. His hands are warm and everywhere, holding you like you’ll disappear in between his fingers.

“I'm in agony. You don' understand what I'd for you. What I’d do to you. And it wasn’ until I’d almost lost you that I realized how much I fuckin’ burn for you,” he whispers, fervent as a hymn.

Soap’s got you pinned under him, and you can feel him, hard against your thigh, feel it twitch when he pulls back just so he can look at you, lips swollen from the kiss, his eyes wild.

“Tell me you don’ want me too,” he pants, but you can’t do anything but stare, because you’ve never really let yourself truly look at him before, not so openly, and he’s so goddamn beautiful.

“You’ve got lovely eyelashes,” you finally say, and reach up to gently touch his face. He leans in again, recaptures your lips with enough force to bruise, crushing you against him like he’s trying to shove you into his ribcage, like with enough force he can fuse your skin together, and you think you may break from the weight of it all, drown in the tidal wave of his sudden affection without complaint.

He wanders, his mouth moving to your neck, and he bites down and grinds his hips into yours, swallowing the gasp you make at the contact. You rake your nails down his back and he positively whimpers, melting further into you, sucking and nipping at any exposed skin he can reach, a hand wandering in between your thighs, thick fingers pressing against your clothed sex.

You feel like you're being consumed by the sun, warm and blinding as Soap makes practiced work of your pants, stripping you bare, letting out a quiet groan at the sight of you. Eagerly he begins kissing his way down your chest and stomach, landing between your thighs. You clench them together almost instinctively, suddenly shy, and as he pries your legs apart with a cocky grin, it hits you just how much you've missed him.

Johnny devours you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks, wet and messy, and you feel yourself coming towards the edge, a warm knot building inside you even as you pull on his hair, trying to get him to come up for air.

"You're gonna suffocate if you don't breathe," you gasp out, and you can feel him smirk against you. He pulls back, slightly out of breath, his mouth wet and hair tousled.

“I ken think of no sweeter place ta die,” he says playfully, kissing the inside of your thigh before diving back in.

You almost fall over the edge the minute that Johnny shoves one of his thick fingers inside you, curling it just right, hitting the perfect spot and making you see stars. He moans along with you, eyes bright, watching you come undone from in between your thighs. Your legs shake and you clench around his head as he coaxes you through it, and you're still seeing stars when he pulls himself up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can feel the hardness of him bumping your clit, and that's all the warning you get before he lines himself up with your entrance and presses into you.

He’s big and it stretches and hurts even though you're soaking. Everything is just too much, too fast. Things you've been suppressing for months are all bubbling up, and all you can feel and taste and see is him, the blinding sun to your lonely moon. Johnny shushes you gently, touching your face even as his body is trembling with the effort of resisting the urge to drive his hips into you as hard as he can.

“I don’ mean to be so eager,” he says, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’ve missed you, lass.” He kisses you lightly, and you realize there are tears running down your cheeks.

"I thought you hated me," you whimper, "I thought I had scared you off or annoyed you and that you didn't care about me."

Johnny stares at you with a look that shatters you into pieces, agony and tenderness tangled together in equal measure.

“Christ,” he says, voice gravelly, “don’ you know I’m in love with you?” And then he pushes his hips forward, filling you up, his hips meeting yours as he sheaths himself completely inside of you. You gasp, tears still flowing as he kisses you, soft and slow. Then he begins to move, drawing his hips back before bottoming out again, and it hurts less now, a familiar heat building low in your stomach.

Johnny’s rough but gentle, his own restraint on a razor thin wire, too aware of the scar tissue just above his coarse hands even as he’s slamming his hips into yours, feeling you clench down and squirm, your nails tearing into his shoulders and raking down his back.

Everything feels so good, you’re so warm and alive beneath him, the skin he’s been dying to touch for ages and the sounds you’re making are driving him wild, the whimpers and gasps making him feel like a teenager, ruining his stamina and pushing his control. You’re pretty even in tears and even as Johnny swears under his breath that he’ll never make you cry again, he admires the glassiness of your eyes, the tremble of your bottom lip.

“I-it’s so b-ig” you whine, your breath hitching with every thrust. Your walls are fluttering around him as he stretches you open, your hips rolling up to meet his thrusts. Johnny moans, his hips stuttering.

“-m’not gonna last much longer” he pants, “want you ta cum on my cock first.” Your breath hitches and his heart flutters along with it, reaching down to thumb your clit, making you whimper and tighten around him. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you as you feel yourself falling over the edge, moaning against his mouth as you feel his cock twitch inside you, filling you up. Soap slumps against you, his cock still sheathed in you as he delicately kisses your mouth. You kiss him back in a daze, your legs trembling and brain foggy.

“I love you too,” you whisper, words muffled by his soft lips on yours, and Johnny sighs wistfully, pulling back to look at you. One of his warm hands reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

Unrequited Ghost Part 2

[darth-mortem]

The next fic from my English lessons. Soap takes care of tired Ghost, who has returned from a solo mission, and does everything possible to relax him. 1338 words.

A lot of fluff and a little nsfw

Ghost returned to base late at night. He had been on a solo mission for over two weeks with almost no sleep, so he was very tired and just wanted to take a shower, clean his weapon, and fall onto the bed. Riley didn’t expect that someone would meet him, because it was impossible to move around the base at night without a pass. However, when the lieutenant got out of the helicopter, he immediately saw Soap, who was waving to him and smiling happily.

“Hey, Lt.!” The sergeant rushed to him and took his bag and a case with a sniper rifle. “I missed ye so much! Are ye solid?”

“Aye,” Ghost answered automatically, and then shook his head. “What are you doing here, Johnny?”

“I'm meeting ye,” Soap answered, rolling his eyes. “Dinnae be so silly, Si! C'moan, it’s cold out ‘ere!”

MacTavish was the first to leave the airstrip, taking Riley’s stuff, so he had no choice but to follow. Of course the lieutenant was glad to see Johnny, but he also understood that the restless sergeant wouldn’t let him rest, and that made him sad.

When Ghost found himself in his room, he saw that his bed had already been prepared for sleep, and a towel, neatly folded clean clothes, and a balaclava were lying on its edge. Riley didn’t like that MacTavish was here without him and rummaging through the closet, but he knew that Johnny had good intentions, so he didn’t focus on it.

"Mibbie, ye want tae tak’ a shower?” Soap asked with a cheerful smile on his lips. “I see that yer tired, sae I’ll help ye.”

And he took the towel and Ghost’s clothes, denying him the opportunity to protest. So Riley took off his bulletproof vest and other tactical gear, and together they walked down the corridor of the residential block, which was empty and quiet at this time.

The shower room was locked at night, but the lieutenant had a key. He and Johnny walked into a small locker room, and Riley sat down heavily on the bench, feeling his whole body ache with fatigue. Meanwhile, Soap put folded clothes next to him, locked the door, and walked up to Ghost from behind, placing his hands on the lieutenant’s shoulders.

“Tired, mah m’eudail?” Johnny asked kindly, gently massaging Simon’s tense muscles. “Let me help ye, aye?”

“Aye,” Ghost agreed, gradually relaxing.

Soap carefully removed the skull mask from Simon’s head. Then he bent down, wrapped his arms around Ghost, and unzipped his tactical fleece. Johnny wasn’t hurrying, because all this was new to them both. They had only recently started their relationship, and Ghost still had trust issues from time to time. Sometimes he refused to take off his mask, and sometimes he shied away from being touched. Johnny already knew something about what Simon had to go through in the past, so he took his time and didn’t ask questions. Now he was slowly removing Ghost’s clothes so that the lieutenant would have time to stop Soap if it became uncomfortable.

“Do ye want me tae take a shower with ye?” Johnny asked as he walked around Ghost and bent down to unbuckle his belt and pants.

“Not today.” Riley shook his head. “I’m tired as hell.”

Soap nodded and tried to help Simon get up, but as soon as his hands touched the lieutenant’s sides, he flinched and giggled nervously. Blinking his eyes in surprise, Johnny grinned and deliberately tickled Ghost’s ribs.

“Stop this!” The lieutenant exclaimed, annoyed but unable to stop laughing.

“Och, nope!” Soap declared, chuckling too. “If this’ th’ only way tae see yer charming smile, I won’t stop!”

“Johnny, please!” Unable to laugh anymore, Ghost jumped to his feet and grabbed MacTavish, pinning his arms to his body.

Soap looked into the lieutenant’s eyes, and he bent his head and kissed the sergeant’s lips. Johnny immediately relaxed, stopped thrashing, and sighed sweetly, pressing his whole body against Simon. They stood like that for a few minutes, then Ghost stepped back and took off his pants, socks, and boxers, wrapping a towel around his thighs.

“Do ye want me tae pick up yer dirty clothes and make ye some coffee while yer in th’ shower” Soap asked, starring at the almost naked lieutenant.

“Tea,” he answered, turned around, and went to the shower room.

“Fuckin’ Brits,” Johnny snorted, and started picking up Simon’s dirty clothes.

When Ghost, dressed in clean clothes and a soft skull balaclava, entered his room, he found a cup of tea steaming on his desk and Johnny half-lying in his bed. He was shirtless, and something told Riley that he was without pants under the blanket as well.

“Dinnae look at me like that,” Soap said, and smiled cheerfully. “I just decided tae warm yer bed while ye drink yer tea, and...”

“No milk,” Simon interrupted.

“What?” Johnny was confused, blinking his eyes.

“There’s no milk in my tea,” the lieutenant repeated. “And you know that I like it with milk.”

“Yeah, but th'day I added something else,��� MacTavish said, “a lot o’ love ‘n’ a little brandy.”

“Well,” Ghost lifted the edge of his balaclava over the bridge of his nose, sipped his tea, and smiled, “it’s acceptable.”

It didn’t take Riley long to finish his tea; he didn’t wash his cup and clean his weapon, as he originally planned. All this can be done tomorrow, when Johnny isn’t waiting in bed, ready to hug and protect Simon from all his nightmares. The lieutenant turned off the light, took off his balaclava, hoodie, and black T-shirt, then approached the bed and crawled under the blanket, finding himself in Soap’s warm and tender embrace. Resting his head cozily on the sergeant’s chest, Ghost started to drift off to sleep, listening to Johnny’s heartbeat. But suddenly he felt Soap’s hand on his thigh and then in his pants.

“I’m really very tired,” Riley muttered sleepily.

“Ye dinnae have tae do anything, Lt.” Soap whispered gently and touched Ghost’s short hair with his lips. “Just relax. I’ll take care of ye.”

Riley did just that. He made himself more comfortable and felt Johnny’s warm fingers pull down his pants and underwear and wrap around his cock. Despite his fatigue, Ghost felt excited and closed his eyes, giving in to the enjoyable sensations. Soap moved his hand slowly and gently, feeling Simon shiver from time to time with pleasure.

“Faster,” Simon whispered hoarsely, and Johnny smiled, fulfilling his request.

Ghost’s breathing became more frequent. He hugged Soap, pulling him close, and the sergeant pressed his lips against Riley’s neck. He felt the jagged scars and ran his tongue over them gently as he continued to move his hand over Ghost’s cock.

Simon moaned quietly, which sent goosebumps up Johnny’s back. Normally the lieutenant was silent, but now he was too tired to hold back. He couldn’t even move to caress Johnny, who missed him and probably wanted it. However, MacTavish didn’t complain and, on the contrary, was satisfied with Ghost’s state, when he could only moan and melt with pleasure in his skillful arms.

“Hey, Si,” Johnny whispered, biting the lieutenant's ear lightly, “I want ye tae cum. Will ye do it for me?”

Ghost groaned louder, hearing these words and feeling Soap’s hand start to move on his cock faster and sharper. He shuddered again, clawed his fingers into Johnny’s shoulders, and came, arching and straining with his whole strong, stocky body.

“Ye were fuckin’ beautiful, Lt.” Soap grinned and reached for the wet wipes lying on the nightstand.

“Johnny, please…” Ghost exhaled.

“What?” MacTavish asked, gently wiping him and his own hand.

“Shut... the fuck up.” Riley muttered sleepily and lazily pulled up his clothes.

“Aye, I love ye too,” Johnny said cheerfully. “Good night, mah m’eudail.”

Ghost didn’t answer because he was already asleep. So Soap messed around, settling in his strong arms like a little spoon, and closed his eyes too, feeling himself absolutely safe and happy. 

[sgt-scottymoreau]

MAIN INFORMATION/GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Camille Moreau Nicknames: Scotty, Cam, Camy(ie), Tulip (exclusive to her parents) Nationality: Belgian Date of Birth: August 30th, 1995 Birthplace: Mons, Belgium Affiliations: La Défense/Defensie (Formely), Belgian Silent Forces, Task Force 141 Rank: Sergeant Gender: Female Sexuality: Pansexual Status: Alive Languages: French (Mothertongue), Dutch (Fluent), English (Fluent)

FAMILY MEMBERS & LOVE INTERESTS

Father: Henri Moreau Mother: Suzanne Moreau (née Lemaitre) Sister: Gabrielle Moreau Brother-in-law: Nathan Bavoil Nephew: Nicolas & Mathéo Bavoil

Partner: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

APPEARANCE & PERSONALITY

Height: 1m65 Weight: 60kg Build: Fit Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Brown Others: Has a few small barely showing scars old injuries here and there from work. Faceclaim inspiration: Elise Eberle

Personality Type (MBTI):

ESFJ

Camille is often seen as an optimistic, full of life and restless person. Someone who at first come off as little childish and not serious. Yes, she is a 'ray of sunshine' but don't let this fool you. When needed, she is very focus, serious, get the job done and is not afraid to speak her mind. At time, Camille can be stubborn which in some situation is a good thing, in some not so much.

Despite her bad habits of swearing a lot which can come off as rude, Camille is respectful of people who earn it. She cares deeply about anyone who is close. She would fight the world for her friends and family. She is a reliable ally, but an unforgiving enemy.

TRIVIA

Got her callsign after on to many Star Trek reference (and to be known to hangout with the mechanics and wear red shirts)

Her blood type is AB+

She is left handed

BACKSTORY/BIOGRAPHY

1995 - 2013; Early life

Born in 1995, in the town of Mons, Camille had a pretty normal upbringing. As normal as a child with a parent who work in the military can be. She is the second and last child of the family with a sister, Gabrielle, three years her elder. As a child, Camille was always looking for adventures, outside doing mischief and getting in troubles. Her mother was often called to the principal's office because little Camille had a little fight with a classmate. To her defense, said classmate was annoying her sister and she had to step in.

At school, Camille's favorite subject was PE. She kept a very active life that proved to be a plus when she eventually applied to join the army. She was an average student.

Despite her father not being home often, Camille had a good relation with him. Camille up held her father in great admiration, put him on a high pedestal and idolizing his lifestyle. When he wasn't home, she would be making sure to send him letter or video call him, if it was possible. At home, Henri had not time to breath, Camille always had to do something with him. He was the one who introduced her to a series he liked and it became the little ritual to watch it together when he would come back from deployment. The show? Star Trek.

During her teenage year, she had a moment of doubt. Wondering if she was following in her father's steps because she wanted or because he did. Camille didn't grew distant of him, but definitely started to test the water and be a little more rebellious. Not to the kind of trouble that would involve the police, but enough that her parents would be dissapointed. Throught out these years, her sister became her best friend, yet someone who couldn't handle how Camille was seeking danger. The two girls are very different in personality. Gabrielle is more calm mind and seek steady things. At time, she'd be like a second mother to Camille.

2013 - 2018; Miliraty Era*

At the age of 18, she joined the army after coming to terms that it was indeed what she wanted. Because of her father, Camille had an idea of what was to be expected. Althought he was Air Force and she joined the Land component. After a few months of training, she was accepted. As usual, she wasn't necesseraly someone who performed admirably, but slightly above the average. During this time, she earned the call sign, Scotty. During her free time, she spent time with the mechanics and learn a thing or two. Wore a little too often the color red or warm color, during her time off base. Ultimately, she made one to many Star Trek reference.

In 2015, during an foreing aid mission, her squad was killed. Only her and one other survived. This broke her even if she had seen companions fall in combat before. It took her a while to return to the kind of person she was.

In 2017, Gabrielle announced the birth of her twins. Camille wasn't home another two months before she finally met her nephews in person. Nicolas and Mathéo means the world to her. Because Scotty can't have children (medical reason) she considered them the closest thing to her own. But she won't be afraid to admit, she is glad that she can give them back to their mom.

In 2018, Scotty was rethinking her military life. While talking with the only other survivor of the event in 2015, she was given an opportunity that was worth looking into.

2018 - 2022; Belgian Silent Forces Era**

In June of 2018, she began a new chapter of her life in a PMC. There she perfectionned her reconnaissance and undercover skills. Less brute force missions. Scotty would consider these years to be calm adventures compared to the army. Her ops were much more focused in the BENELUX area, sometimes bordering France, Germany and Switzerland. It made for a less oversea job.

In early 2022, Scotty was assigned to a task who challenged her ability and eventually led her to meet the Task Force 141 and join the team all while remaining an BSF agent.

*: My knowledged is based on whatever I could find on the internet and the website of La Défense itself.

**: Totally made up PMC, it was more convinent for me to do it that way :P DISCLAIMER: I also named the PMC like this before knowing there was an actual elit unit named Special Forces Group. Belgian Silent Forces is a made up thing!!! Do not mix them.

[sterlingnaberrie]

𝐻𝓎𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈

SUMMARY: It’s late at night on the Marauder, the ship sliding quietly through Hyperspace, but Hunters thoughts are so loud, doubt and fear clouding his mind. Luckily you’re there to comfort him the way he needs.

(HunterxJediFemReader)

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The Marauder hung silently through the blue tunnel of hyperspace, the faint buzz of the ship's engine filtered through the still ship. You felt safe here, filtered amongst your fellow troopers and their new found adopted little sister…or older you should say.

You lay on the plush mattress of your bunk, facing towards a small slit window that pooled blue luminescent hyperspace. Even with your eyes closed, blue and white seeped through your eyelids, you found it kind of comforting really. Another thing that you found comforting was the sergeant that lay next to you, his frame slotted against yours. Since you joined the Batch after Order 66, filling the absent void of Crosshair, there weren’t enough bunks for you all to each claim your own and after an insufferable amount of insisting on Hunter’s end, the Sergeant had persuaded you that sharing a bunk with him wouldn't be a problem. So here you were, months later laying next to dark and broody. Of course the tension was awkward the first couple nights you both slept next to one another, but as Cid’s missions wore on, both of you grew too tired to really care.

There were times where you both would wake up in eachothers arms, whether that would be your head laying on his chest or vise versa, tangled legs or his frame swallowing yours from behind, his arm lazily drooping over your waist. It became the norm, and the relationship between you and Hunter grew, you both finding solace in one another. You, a former Commander of your now fallen battalion and him a Sergeant. The two of you understood each other, the mounting pressure of lives being on your shoulders, making the right calls and people judging you for making said calls. Not only was it the position you both found relatability on, it was the fact you both could sense things that no one else could. You both could recognize when something was wrong, you with your Jedi abilities and him with his enhanced senses. Words weren’t needed when it came to comforting one another, there were no ‘what’s wrong’s’ or ‘are you okays’, just acknowledgement and action.

The hum of the ship lulls you to sleep but not before you feel the subtle shift of the mattress moving underneath you. Hunter was a restless sleeper at best, his body never seeming to rest even when it needed to. You suddenly feel his force signature waver from distress to hesitance causing your brow to stitch together in concern. But before you can acknowledge and act like you usually do, you feel his hand snake along your waist.

“c’mere” he rumbles as he pulls you in towards his chest. You smile to yourself at the sudden conscious affection, a rarity that he gives to only you and Omega..it made you feel special if you were going to be honest. “What are we stressing about this time, hm?’ you say as you roll on your side to face him, his hand resting on your hip as his other arm rests underneath his head. He hesitates, looking at you but not really, his thoughts clouding his vision as he gets lost in them, and you let him. You’ve learnt that pushing doesn’t help when it comes to Hunter, he rushes and overthinks his feelings to the point where they just become small and irrelevant to him, which you remind him constantly that they're not. “Just because your job is to put people first does not mean you have to do that with me” you once told him and thankfully that stuck.

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing…with any of this” he says after a moment of silence. You gaze up at him, resting your hand on his bicep as a comfort, gently rubbing your thumb along his clothed skin. “We can’t trust Cid but I don’t know where else we can go, or how else we could get by” he continues, his gaze shifting between you and the space in between your bodies. You stay quiet knowing there’s more, sensing there’s more he wants to say, he looks back to you with a worry etched face, his brows furrowed “Omega deserves better than what I'm giving her” and right there your heart breaks. You know that he wants nothing more than to provide anything and everything he can for the young clone, and to think that he feels that his love isn’t enough shatters your entire being. You reach your hand up and rest it on his cheek, gently soothing his under eye bags “Hunter, you’re everything she needs” you say, your voice laced with soft conviction “Crosshair said to stop pretending to be something i’m not and i-”

“forget what Crosshair said '' you gently interrupted him “you have made all the right calls, we’re all alive aren’t we?” He looks at you but says nothing, you can practically see the cogs in his head turning “you’ve made every decision with your squads best interest at heart, especially with Omega” You move your hand from his cheek to his chest, placing your palm over where his heart is “you followed this” you say softly, and then placed your hand back up to the scar on his temple where his chip once was “not this, and that’s all that matters” There’s a moment of silence as your words hang in the air, your gaze unwavering as his focuses on the empty space between you both. “She’s just a kid…I just want her to be okay” You snake your hand down to rest in the crook of his neck “and she will be, because she has you” Hunter looks back up at you, the expression painted across his face is one you’ve seen so many times before, it’s one of recognition, realisation and acceptance.

The Sergeant overthinks everything, wanting every decision to be the right one, you know him like the back of your hand and right now you know that he has realised that wherever he has gone, Omega has followed willingly. And if he can trust himself enough, he can trust the fact that she’s going to be okay.

Hunter stares at you for a while longer, taking you in as you gaze back. “You have a way with words you know that right?” Hunter states, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. Your cheeks dust red at his words as you raise your hand in front of his face “it’s just my amazing jedi mind tricks” you mock, wiggling your fingers in front of his face playfully, giggling as you do so. Hunter chuckles softly as he grabs your hand and places a soft kiss on your fingers “thank you” he mumbles against your fingers, squeezing your hand tightly. Your breath hitches slightly before you manage to respond coherently “always” your voice just above a whisper, the hoods of your eyes drooping as sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. Hunter notices and smiles to himself as he pulls you closer, your head moving to rest on his chest as he rolls onto his back.

“I’m glad to have met you Hunter” you say quietly before sleep fully numbs your bones, “i’m glad to have met you too” he says softly, those being the last words you hear before you fall asleep.

[mushpired]

New part for my banshee soap au!

I have received so much support, which I didn’t expect, like, at all, but thanks to everyone that has read and likes my silly little story. Now, with the story!

This one is quite longer, so I hope it’s good

Here’s the first part!

5 times someone thought that something was wrong with soap + 1 time they realized that’s just how soap is.

2. High pitched voice, and (fucking awesome) nice singing voice.

This was a discovery made by Gaz. While everyone in the 141 were quite close, the two young sergeants were a lot closer, they even called each other ‘bestfriend’. Now, even as friends, they each kept their secrets, and they were both okay with that.

Having said that.

There is something that Gaz started paying more attention to after the incident with the rude lieutenant.

That something was the shriek, high pitchy sound that Soap made sometimes.

It wasn’t a normal shriek, like when you get scared, but more of a warning sound, kinda?

He can’t really put his finger on it, but it’s a sound so high pitched it’s almost painful sometimes, although the intensity and the tone depend on what’s happening.

For example.

One time he and Soap were sparring together, and by now, it’s a known fact that Soap doesn’t remove his gloves, or really, any clothing. Like, sure, he’s almost always in short sleeves but that’s about it.

Anyways

The match was getting heated, as always, they liked to push each other a lot, but they both knew the limits of the other. But in a messy grab, Gaz ended up pulling Soaps glove just a bit so that his wrist was almost exposed. Nothing big right?

Wrong

An almost panicked sound escaped the mohawk owner and at the same time, a loud, high, shriek.

He of course immediately released the others hand, and moved to cover his ears, but in a second the noise was gone, leaving two panting sergeants. One on the ground looking utterly lost. And the other standing, looking ready to bolt, and with his hands clutched to his chest.

They were both silent for a second before the Scot offered his hand -gloved of course- to the one on the floor.

“Ye okay mate?” Said Soap, his eyes almost looking… nervous?

“Yeah, sorry bout grabbing your glove, I know you don’t really like that. Was an accident but still” said Gaz, one hand rubbing his neck, while the other was gripping the others arm, in a hold that was both comforting, and to stabilize himself.

“ nah mate, don’t even worry bout it, I ken ye didn’t mean it” said soap, now looking more calm

After that they both decided to call it a day, and went to the showers. However, the incident wouldn’t be forgotten by Gaz.

Next time he experienced something similar, was on a night that they had to spend at another base. The place unfamiliar and they were all restless. Ghost has gone into his room, and he hadn’t heard anything from there. The captain was making calls, and looking over paperwork. He didn’t envy him much. Lastly, Soap has gone on a walk about twenty minutes ago and hadn’t come back yet. Not exactly something to worry about, since the base was safe. But it was also surrounded by a big forest. Trees for miles, and so tall that once inside, you felt as if you were in another world.

He was merely laying around, bored out of his mind when he felt another person looking at him, and he almost shat his goddamn pants when he saw the masked face of his lieutenant.

“Jesus mate! Make some noice next time. I prefer to die of old age, not cuz you gave me a heart attack!”

“Price called me to talk about some things, here in the common room. Where’s the Johnny?” He said, gruff voice expressing nothing, but there was an undeniable softness in his eyes at the mention of the other sergeant.

“If you don’t know mate, then I’m clueless. Went for a walk and hasn’t come back” he said, low key afraid of the reaction of the Ghost

As if called by an angel, Price came into the room, signature hat on his head, and a tired look on his face

“Where’s MacTavish? I have information for all of you” he asked, his voice kind of annoyed, but in the way a father that knows his children sounds

“Just told the lieutenant, he went out, hasn’t come back, could probably call him to bring his arse back here” he offered, his phone already out and looking for the other sergeants number

And because god hates him, the moment he started ringing soap, another ringtone was heard from the window. The idiot had left his phone.

He will strangle him.

“For fucks sake, one of you two, go look for him, I don’t want to lose more time” said Price, with a sigh and a mutter about not getting paid enough

Without even looking at him, Gaz could tell that the lieutenant wouldn’t go. The task of looking for a man that moves so fast and slippery clearly was not something he wanted to do. So, with a sigh of himself, Gaz went out, grumbling, and muttering curses under his breath at the Scot.

He moved quickly, looking around the base, anywhere the man could be. Demolitions range, shooting range, the gym, the showers, the kitchen, hell, even the fucking medical. He was in none of those places.

Suddenly he turned his head and looked at the forest.

He cursed out loud this time

He had a feeling that the man had gone there, so he just started going inside the forest, telling himself that if he didn’t find him in the next 30 meters, he could find his way back alone, and earned a lecture from the Captain for disappearing.

He was just considering turning back when he heard it.

A voice that sounded so beautiful, melodious, that Gaz thought he had lost his mind. It wasn’t a soft voice, it was undeniably one of a man. Gruff and rough, with scratchy parts that only made it sound better. But along with that, he heard the same shrilly tone he had heard once before. A high pitched voice, that sounded at the same time as the other, as if it belonged to the same person. It wasn’t painful, but it made him feel uneasy in a way. When he followed the voice(s?) he couldn’t believe what he saw.

It was fucking John MacTavish, with a greenie that he had ‘adopted’ when they got to that base. The other cadet was a young man, no older than 20, that had recently lost his mission partner and friend on a botched mission. John had seen the sunken face and immediately befriended the young man. His friendly nature and sunny personality making it easier for him to help the poor boy who had been subjected to a painful experience way too early. The boy had started looking better, and followed Soap around, kinda like a little brother. Soap making it his mission to help the boy get better. Even if Soap himself was a bit messed up from the years serving.

When he got closer, he saw Soap, sitting against a tree. His legs criss crossed, and the young soldier’s head resting on his thigh. Tear tracks dried up on his cheeks, and eyes closed in peaceful slumber. The sergeants hand running across his head, and his voice serving as a lullaby. Soaps eyes were closed, and what surprised him the most, he also had tear tracks on his face.

The moment he got close enough to see the two, he knew Soap knew he was there, voice quieter and he could no longer hear the second voice, had he imagined it? He got within the personal space of the one being used as a pillow and relayed the information

“Soap, Price wants us now. Said he had some information” he said it in a whisper, noticing how the other’s hand covered the youngest one’s ear.

“Kay, give me just a sec, ye ken how to get back to base?” He replied eyes still closed

“Yeah, was just a straight line, but still, if we don’t go now the captain will have both out arses”

With a sigh, the blue eyed man slowly moved the boy on his lap, whispering softly in his ear, and with a still sleepy face, the young soldier got to his feet with the help of Soap, greeted Gaz, and as if this was just a dream, kept leaning on Soap without being ashamed at another having seen him post-crying. It was as if he wasn’t aware of him at all.

Gaz tried not to think too much about it as the exited the forest and let the soldier go back to his room. They got to the common room that now only the 141 used, since it was late as hell, with Soap in tow, who by now didn’t seem to have anything off about him

“Got our cleaning product, we can start now, Captain”

With that, Price started talking. And even if he tried to focus, his eyes kept wandering to the other sergeant. And he wasn’t the only one, since a particular masked individual also looked at him, with questions in his eyes, and clearly trying to figure something out.

He tried to focus on the rest of this unofficial meeting

The other time he heard something like this, and the time that had been basically engraved in his brain, was a few weeks later at that same base. They had been staying there for a long time while their official base was facing some reforms. He didn’t particularly mind, honestly, at least the view was pretty

Anyways, the same young boy that had been with Soap for a lot of their time here ( only when Ghost wasn’t near, which was weird, but it happened sometimes) had been assigned on a mission. Orders to leave the next day for a quick assignment. Something about looking for some papers and information about a drug ring. Nothing particularly hard or dangerous.

Or one would think

The night they left, Soap had been jittery, a bit quiet, and swallowed drily a lot of times. This ent on for days, only getting worse. Not even Ghosts company had been of any help, Gaz would go as far to say it made it even worse than it already was. When dinner time was over that day, Soap ran back to his room as if his ass was on fire, leaving a dumbstruck lieutenant behind, looking like a particularly murderous lost puppy

Gaz tried not to worry too much. As men in the military, they all had their bad days, and promised to himself to check on his friend by tomorrow morning, when the young soldier would also be back, if everything went well. He was probably nervous for his friend since it was his first mission after the death of his partner.

When Gaz went to bed, he only thought of sleeping through the night, and checking on his friend tomorrow

What Gaz didn’t expect was a scream, so loud, and so fucking high that he woke up blindly reaching for a weapon.

His ears felt like they were bleeding and the noise felt as if it was coming from everywhere. He soon heard shouts and curses coming from the nearby rooms, thumps could also be heard, some soldier definitely jumping out of bed, and he wouldn’t blame any of them if they pissed their pants.

He tried to exit his room without falling on his face from the sheer amount of pain that scream was causing him.

When he got out, gun in one hand, he looked around and saw multiple men also looking for the source, while trying uselessly to quiet the sound with their hands

He even saw price and Ghost looking around, the masked man was difficult to read since, well, he had a mask, but he was also covering his ears with his hands. No one could decipher where the source of the scream was, when suddenly, it stopped

The hall was quiet before some soldier started speaking to each other. All spooked as hell. Price ordered Ghost to go look around, along some other soldiers who looked the best after the rough wake up. Some looked ready to throw up, some had thrown up, and other were standing with the help of their friends and bunkmates

Slowly, people went back to their rooms and only the Captain and him were left standing there.

“Where’s Soap?” Said price, eyes tired and looking weirdly naked without his hat

“Sir?” Said Gaz, still shaken

“Soap, where is him, he didn’t come out of his room”

“Ah, he must have not gotten out from his bed” said Gaz, not really thinking since he was still kind of disoriented

“Go check on him, make sure he didn’t pass out on the floor or drown in vomit, i have to talk to the other superiors on base”

“Yes sir” he replied, making his way to his friends room

He knocked and when he received no answer, he opened and slowly entered, even in the darkness, he could see clearly an image that broke his heart

Soap was on the corner of the bed, back against the wall, and crying so hard he was surprised he was even breathing from how hard he was heaving. His eyes were unfocused, and he jerked his head up when he made his presence known

“Hey mate, just checking on ya, you solid?” Said Gaz, trying not to spook the other anymore. He assumed the scream had scared the other and sent him down a panic attack or something similar “can I get closer? I won’t hurt you mate, it’s just me”

When he received a nod, he knew that at least the other was lucid, and got closer, and in a second, he had a sobbing sergeant on his lap, and a coldness seeped through his sleep hoodie

He was clueless about what was happening

“Hey, hey, whats wrong, you need anything, are you ok” he bombarde his friend with questions, and the only answer he received were muttering and a tightening of the arms that here hugging him, as if afraid to let go

“Hes dead, he’s dead, he ain’t coming back, h-he is de-dead, oh god, why” those words sent chills down his spine, and he immediately tried to ask for more information from his friend, who was know curled in his lap, his head on Gaz’s chest

“Ey, ey, cmon, what are you talking about? Let me help, I’m here for you” he was starting to get desperate. First the rough wake up, the his friend crying inconsolably, and now this weird sentences. But even if he insisted, Soap stayed quiet for the rest of the night, and at one point, Gaz gave up on trying to figure out what had happened.

He did his best to guide both of them to lay down, a hard task since the other was unresponsive. At last, he managed to lay them both down, his friend still clinging to him, and shaking.

He messaged price

-from: Gaz

-to: Price

Captain, I found Soap, he is unresponsive but it looks like he had a panic attack, he won’t let go of me, I think he needs to have a day off, he has been off all week

-from: Price

-to: Gaz

Sergeant, thanks for telling me, don’t worry, tell him he can rest tomorrow, I’ll handle it, and you stay with him, I’ll assign both of your work for others, but you will still have paperwork when you come back, tell MacTavish that

After receiving that message, he squeezed his friend tighter and relayed the message form price to Soap, when he got no reaction, he decided he would sleep here (not like he had a choice) and try to help soap in the morning

Sleep quickly claimed him, and his arms never left his friend

The next day, he was told that the young soldier that Soap had taken a liking to, had died on the night before

From then on, he decided that something was definitely up with John MacTavish

And that was it! It wasn’t too fast, since I have a lot of classes and all that, but I enjoyed writing this, Im in the verge of falling asleep, so I’ll probably check everything when I wake up, if there are any mistakes please tell me, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

[mixing-bowl-of-stories]

How did Alice and Owen start working together?

Ah the tale of how they met

Here’s what I mean when I say that Owen used to be a really horrible person:

Owen started working with Alice because he was hired by her.

Owen is a pretty big guy, and he’s pretty strong too. So she hired him around the time when Alice was planning to carry out the massacre of the De La Dáinn family.

At that point, she didn’t have enough people on her side to get the job done, and Owen, in desperate need of some money and would do anything to get out of his debt with the Morganian mafia and keep his life, was perfect for the job.

Owen was in his late 20’s when Alice hired him. They were around the same age, Alice was pretty, not to mention the fact that she was putting in the effort to try and win him over. So he agreed.

Once he agreed, he couldn’t back out.

He didn’t know what exactly he was getting himself into until Alice explained the plan. And Owen knew that if he left, it wouldn’t be pretty.

So he carried out the murders, being the main attacker in it all with Sergeant Boris Abir, Dion Falls, Lady Matilda Delta, Lorraine Russel, and Jeffery Gilson.

Owen never truly got over what he did to the De La Dáinn’s, in fact the only reason Diana and Elizabeth even survived is because his conscience took over and he told the two to get out of there and get as far away as possible. He lied his ass off to the others about how they managed to escape and how it wasn’t his fault.

So Owen, now thoroughly too deep in this whole mess to get out, gets a good chunk of the De La Dáinn’s fortune, and ends up meeting the Lockwoods, aka, Alice’s employers at the time.

He made plenty of weapons and machinery for the Lockwoods, did a lot of their bidding, and gave them the machines necessary to become absolutely terrifying tyrants.

After the Lockwoods are killed by Diana and Elizabeth’s adventuring party, Owen flees with the rest of the associates and Alice.

Owen and Alice start their plans to make Noah around this time.

Noah was never supposed to have a conscience, he was just supposed to be another murder machine that Owen made.

But Owen found himself caring a lot about this project and getting a lot closer to it than he had before, partially because he realized this could be the cure to his curse. But not only that, he felt it could make up for his sins.

Instead of taking a life, he was going to make it instead. He was going to create an android that purposefully would always go out of his way to help people, even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it.

So he built the kindness into Noah. He built a conscience into him, Which is exactly why Noah started retaining memories and opinions.

Eventually Alice and Owen have a falling out, and they break off their relationship. Alice threatening Owen with his life if he didn’t leave the project with her.

So Owen is back on his own, a fortune he never touches because it’s blood money and the weight it has on his mind, a lost project he expects never to see again, and at a loss for what to do with the rest of his short life.

So, in order to make some money that isn’t from a heinous act, he starts working at a tavern as a barkeep.

Years pass, and eventually a group of rowdy young adults walks in and starts causing some trouble.

One is a young man with a strange line down his face and yellow eyes, there are three triplet siblings, one of which doesn’t seem too inclined to join in causing trouble, there are two halfling siblings, three tieflings, two of which look suspiciously similar to the Lockwoods, three people from the restless borderlands, and lastly, a girl with white hair.

And he recognized who Pandora was the instant he saw her, because she bears a striking resemblance to Diana.

So imagine his surprise when he’s trying to avoid attention, that Pandora walks up to him and begins apologizing profusely for the group’s behavior.

Owen carefully explains his past to her once she strikes up the conversation, leaving out details, and Pandora offers him to join their group and that “they’re not as bad as they act in a tavern…” (they are as bad as they act in a tavern but they get better)

Owen thinks about it and realizes that maybe this is the gods giving him a chance to make up for what he’s done.

And so, he cautiously accepts.

[lazybutsmexy]

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 8: Predator and Prey

Ch. 7 < Series Masterlist > Ch. 9

Warnings: violence, innacurate police procedures, very unlawful interrogation tactics, cursing

Summary: Ghost and Soap have a few questions for Luke.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 3200~

The beating sound of fists connecting with the sandbag echoed across the training room as the sunshine peeked through the windows. Each hit carried the sound vigorously through the air, along with all the pent up frustration and pain. It was like hearing battle drums in the fog, a premonition of danger, a promise of a violent death. 

Nearly half an hour had passed since Ghost had begun punching the bag, and even though he wasn’t the only one in the training room who wanted to use the sandbags, no one dared to interrupt him. The rookies - who had only been in the Special Forces for less than five years - only glanced at him from the corner of their eyes, and for just a few seconds. They didn’t want the Lieutenant to decide to take his frustrations on them on the mat instead. Sergeant Soap Mactavish was already doing a good job at that. 

Yet another body was slammed on the mat by Soap, a loud grunt let out by the private now laying on the floor. The Sargeant incorporated himself, and aside from a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead, there were no signs that it had taken any effort at all to win the wrestling match. 

“On your feet, Private,” Soap commanded, causing anyone paying attention to suppress a shiver at the lack of any of the usual teasing in his tone. Some of the younger recruits spared glances to each other, but knew better than to voice their concerns. 

Gaz sneaked a glance at Soap as he drilled a group of recruits doing pull-ups. He had initially questioned Price’s order for both men to return to drill exercises and training as usual given the circumstances. However, it looked as if despite their obvious tension release in each activity, they didn’t take it all out on the rest of the soldiers. It actually looked as if keeping the routinary workout was helping them channel their restlessness as they waited for any updates from Hartford. 

It had become known throughout base that Corporal Canary was missing. The thing that wasn’t well known was the actual relationship between her, Soap, and Ghost. Gaz was sure that the majority of the personnel on base simply saw the trio as a tightly-knit group of siblings-in-arms. 

However, there was a carefully selected group of people who knew the reality of the trio; of the way their gazes found each other in any situation was always more than coincidental; of the manner in which they squeezed together a bit more than necessary during transport; of the certainty that when one went, the other two would follow, and it was not just because they were in the same team. Well, partially it was, but a different kind of team.  

Price had been the first to know - he had suspected it, but it had been the three of them who went to him directly with the news. They respected their Captain immensely, and he reciprocated by simply telling them to ‘keep it professional’ - after giving them an earful, of course. And they did, even in the current circumstances. 

Gaz had found out by accident, because he had gotten used to entering Canary’s barrack without knocking - she was practically ‘one of the boys’ after all. Until one day, when he walked in and saw her clinging to Ghost, locked up in a heated kiss, while Soap pressed himself to her back with his hands under the front of her tank top. He had never shut a door so quickly in his life, and he hadn’t entered a room on base without knocking first ever again. 

The young Sargeant stole another look around the rookies, knowing that they would eventually feel the same kind of loss as Soap and Ghost were. And would feel the frustration and hopelessness that came with knowing that they couldn’t change the facts, and life had to go on as usual. 

Another body slammed against the mat under Soap, and Gaz barked new orders at his group. Ghost had finally switched to lifting weights, coaching the recruits around him who were doing the same. And life went on. 

Until a voice in the speakers called Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to Price’s office. That’s when life for the three men seemed to have come to a stop. 

~~~~~~

At 10 AM sharp the doors of the police station were pushed open to their limits. Four soldiers walked in, geared up in their uniforms and tactical vests, holsters gripping their thighs and boots marking their march as they headed straight to the back end of the building. The police officers and a small handful of civilians present in the main hall parted ways like the Red Sea to clear their path. Some baffled stares followed them as they made their way through the hallways. No instructions were needed. 

The officer standing by the doors of the interrogation room nearly swung the door off its hinges when he opened it for them, allowing them into the small room. Hartford was there already, and nodded them in a greeting. He tilted his head towards the large one-way window in front of them. At the other side they could see the interrogation room, with a table and a chair, and a man sitting down. They couldn’t see his face well, as he was holding an ice pack against his face, but Ghost immediately recognized him as the driver of the gray van. 

“His name is Luke Simmons,” Hartford explained, and Price noticed the faint hint of giddiness in his voice, “he was caught this morning, driving the van we were looking for.”

“Looks like your boys did a number on him, detective,” Soap pointed out amused, enjoying the view of the bandaged arm and the asphalt rash on one side of his face.

“Oh, the arm?” the detective smirked, “The K9 did that.” 

Ghost let out a snort, and Soap could almost see his lips stretching into a smirk under the mask, “Good boy, that one.” 

“Yeah, definitely getting extra treats later,” the detective hummed, before turning back to the soldiers, “my plan is to get in there first and try to coax something out of him. I’ll threaten him a little with letting you guys in,” he nodded at Ghost and Soap, “and if he still refuses to say where Canary is, he’s all yours.”

“What if he lawyers up?” Price inquired, and both Soap, Gaz and Ghost seemed to just realize that could be a possibility. If Luke asked for a lawyer, they wouldn’t be able to talk to him any longer until he found a lawyer, and then getting any information would delay them hours, maybe even days.

Hartford’s eyes glinted and a fantom grin teased his lips before he handed him a folder. Price opened it, and his eyes studied the contents, a dark smirk stretching his lips as he listened to Hartford’s explanation. Soap’s tongue poked out, wetting his lips as he stared at Luke, and Ghost felt his fist clench, his eyes boring into the forehead of the man that would bring them a step closer to Canary. 

~~~~~~~

The cold press was managing only slightly to keep the swelling down on his face, Luke realized, and set it down on the table with a sigh. He had already steeled himself, decided not to speak one word. He assumed that, at most, they would file a robbery charge on him for the stolen van. Nothing connected him to the dead woman, nor the one they had kidnapped. If they tried to, he would only tell them he had stolen the van last night. And if they still tried to pressure him down, he would lawyer up. Easy. 

Yet, he felt an uneasiness rising in his stomach. He felt as if he was being stalked by a predator from the other side of that window. He knew from enough series that behind that window were people watching him. And Luke felt as if at least one of them wanted to murder him.

Somehow, he managed not to flinch when the door opened, and a man with salt-and-pepper hair walked in. He looked pretty strong, Luke noticed, taking a deep breath when the man sat down and placed a bottle of water in front of him. He looked at the bottle warily and refused to take it, but the man seemed not to care.

“I’m detective Hartford,” the man introduced himself, “Do you know why you’re here?”

Luke said nothing, simply staring at the man and willing himself to remain impassive. The detective, again, didn’t seem to care, before opening a folder in front of himself. “You were arrested while driving a stolen van,” he explained, before switching his eyes to stare at Luke dead in the eyes. “You know what we found in that van?”

The younger man licked his lips, but refused to shy away. The detective took this as his sign to continue, “We found blood belonging to Johanna Donovan, her body was found under the bridge near the campus trail.” Hartford placed a photograph of a smiling woman on a graduation gown in front of him, along with the one Luke recognized as the photo Alan had taken of her. It had been taken just minutes before she tried to fight her way out. Still, he said nothing. 

“We also found the rifle used to shoot and kill Officer Melanie Kirk,” the detective placed a photograph of a smiley Melanie in uniform, and Luke couldn’t help to widen his eyes at the new information. Officer? The woman they killed the night before was a cop? He raised his eyes to find the detective staring at him thoughtfully. No wonder he wasn’t trying to act friendly - he was holding back. Was that why he felt that way before…?

“We also have reasons to suspect that another woman was kidnapped by someone using that van,” his voice was steady, not a hint of emotion as he stared at Luke, “we have witnesses who saw you driving by the area where she was kidnapped, along with this man,” the detective placed a scarily accurate portrait sketch of Charlie in front of him, and Luke tensed up. He took deep breaths, and kept his mouth shut. They had more than he imagined, and he should recognize he was in deep shit.

A final photograph was placed in front of him, a woman in a military uniform holding a sniping rifle, staring back at him with a serious expression. He immediately recognized her, a chill running down his spine. There was no fucking way. 

“Codename ‘Canary’,” the detective grunted, pointing at her face in the photograph, “Elite member of the SAS. She disappeared while on medical leave.” The detective paused, looking carefully at Luke’s barely hidden shocked expression, “She disappeared while running on the trail you were seen driving past, only a couple minutes drive from the scene where Johanna’s body was found, whose blood was found in the van you were driving.” 

“It’s not my van,” Luke answered quickly, and the corner of the detective’s mouth twitched.

“Oh, we know that, the van was stolen two weeks ago,” Hartford leaned forwards on his elbows, frowning at Luke, “you stole it and used it to kidnap two women, kill one of them, and you were driving it while someone, perhaps your friend,” he pointed at Charlie’s portrait, “shot and killed Officer Kirk.” 

Luke bit his lip and looked at all the photographs in front of him. After a few minutes where the only sounds were Luke’s purposeful deep breaths, Hartford let out a long sigh, “Look, son, you better tell me everything,” Luke looked up at him, a bead of sweat running down his temple and irritating the rash on his face, “we want to find Canary. Both me and her friends in the room behind me.” His eyes switched from the detective to the window, before focusing again on the man. “We have reasons to believe that you’re part of a trafficking ring, and the moment I walk out, it will be their turn to talk to you.” Hartford’s voice was grave, and to Luke, it felt like the detective was a judge sentencing him to death.

Five long minutes passed where only the sound of Luke’s breathing was heard. When Hartford had enough, he began gathering the photographs and putting them back in the folder. He spoke out loud so it would be caught by the camera that had been recording their interaction so far, “Well, the police officially handed over the case to the SAS as of this moment.” He stood up, took the folder, and walked to the door just as Luke became frantic.

“W-Wait!” 

“Lieutenant, Sergeant,” Hartford called out, and Luke’s blood turned cold when he saw two large, muscled men in uniform cross the doorway. He instantly recognized the soldier with the skull balaclava he had seen the day prior. The other man didn’t have his face covered, but he looked just as scary, his jaw was clenched tight and one of his hands held a belt from his tactical vest with a strong grip. 

The door to the interrogation room closed, the click of the doorknob echoing in the space. Ghost remained in front of Luke, while Soap slowly walked around the table and stopped behind him. Luke didn’t know which of them to look at - he had a feeling that two hungry tigers were about to pounce on him. He remembered the feeling of dread that had assaulted him earlier, and understood that it was them who caused it. He was sure that both soldiers could hear his heart pounding wildly in the pregnant silence that fell on them.

“Where is Canary?” Ghost’s voice finally broke the silence. He wasn’t yelling, but the timbre was so deep that it cut through Luke like a sharpened knife. 

“I-... Uh…” Luke hesitated, startling himself with how shaky his voice came out. His throat felt dry and parched like a desert, and he briefly glanced at the water bottle still sitting in front of him. 

“The Lieutenant asked you a question,” Soap’s grave voice startled him, and Luke’s skin erupted into goosebumps.

“I-... I don’t k-know,” he stammered, his tongue clicking in the dryness of his mouth.

“I didn’t ask you if you knew,” Ghost’s glare pierced through his head, and he took a step closer. Luke subconsciously moved back on his chair until he was stopped by its backrest. “You know where she is. Tell me.” His words were slow and commanding, each pause accentuated. Luke decided that the smartest thing he could do at that moment was simply to answer the damn question. 

“I-I really don’t know, I d-drove there, but someone guided me,” his breathing quickened as he spoke, his voice grew throaty with each word.

“Who?” Ghost growled, leaning closer until he was towering over the table. Luke couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible for a human being to be so big. 

“M-... Our boss,” he realized that since they already knew as much as the detective, they would find out even more, even if he didn’t tell them. He would still try to avoid giving their names, if he could. “He guided us there when… When we realized the police were getting close…”

“...Drink your water.” Ghost growled, and Luke’s hand shakily got hold of the bottle. 

He somehow managed to drink a few gulps, when a thought came to him. These soldiers surely wouldn’t physically assault him here, they could only scare him into giving up information. This was a police station, not a room in a forgotten deposit in the middle of nowhere. There were other people around, and there was surveillance as well. He could still ask for a lawyer, and sue the department for threatening him into a confession. His eyes looked for the camera that he had noticed earlier in a corner of the room, expecting to see the blinking red light that indicated it was recording. 

His heart fell to the bottom of his stomach, and all the muscles of his body stiffened. The camera had been switched off. 

“What do you plan to do with her?” Soap’s voice interrupted his frenetic thoughts, and he nearly choked on his water.

“Um… I’m n-not sure…” He breathed out, trying to calm himself down while clutching the bottle in his hands, “I only…drive them where they tell me to go.”

Ghost's hand slammed on the metallic table and Luke jumped on his seat, barely registering the water drenching his clothes when he squeezed the bottle in shock. “Don’t fucking lie to us!” Ghost bellowed, the sound making his eardrums ring. Luke felt the presence of Soap even closer to him, and his eyes shot to the door. Maybe if he-

His face slammed into the table before he could even register it moving, and the sensitive rash collided with the metallic surface at an abnormal speed, making him cry out in pain. Soap’s iron-clad grip squeezed his skull making him feel like it was going to be crushed like an egg. The bottle cluttered on the floor and he clawed at the table, worthlessly struggling against the Sergeant’s massive strength. 

“Don't fucking make me repeat myself,” Soap growled, his breath hot in his ear. Luke groaned in pain, feeling his jawbone crinkle under the weight of the soldier’s clamp. 

“Argh! Okay, okay!” Luke relented, but the weight on his face didn’t waver an inch, “They’ll upload her to a website and offer her up for sale!” That only seemed to make the Sergeant angrier, as his skull dangerously reached its limits of resistance. He screamed as white hot pain made his entire body tremble and caused the chair to clatter its legs against the floor. “Please, stop!” he pleaded as scorching tears pooled in his eyes. 

The hand pressing down on his skull lifted, but he didn’t have time to even sigh in relief as another fisted his hair in a tearing hold. His neck bent painfully as his head was tilted upwards, and his teary eyes found a dark stare behind a skull balaclava searing into him. His spine was bending at its limits and his jaw slackened to release the tension of the uncomfortable angle. Luke could only gasp and whimper in agony as the face of the grim reaper seemed to burn in his retinae. 

“You will take us to the location she is in, and you better get us there before anything happens to her,” his snarl rumbled through his body, and the tears now flooded freely down his cheek, the salt irritating the bloodied rash. 

“If we’re late because of you,” Soap growled in his ear, his hands clamping down on his shoulders and making his collar bones creak in protest, “there will be no holding cell, no isolation cell, no nook or cranny in this world that will keep you safe from us.”

Ghost hummed in agreement, and Luke could almost feel the smirk in his voice, dripping venom.

“We’re damn good at getting into places where people feel safe, after all.”

A/N: u ok Luke? You seem a bit shaken' up

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @speckel @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @tapioca-marzipan @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25 @cumbersome-robes @carlyi @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @scarletbandit @twistytimesandthoughts @angelsquidd @ilovemoneyandcheese @sail-boat21

To be added to the taglist, comment on the series masterlist - link at the top of this post! :)

[smurphyse]

Smurph's Masterlist

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I know I say this a lot, but it never really seems to resonate: Please comment and reblog fics and chapters! Likes are great and all, but it doesn't spread works around Tumblr for others to see! Reblogging is what keeps writers and artists and creators motivated, and if you want more content, that's how you're going to get it! If you're not comfortable with commenting on a reblog, then send an anonymous ask! I jump excitedly when I get asks, and I'm more than happy for you to keep your anonymity while we chat about anything and everything, not just fics :)

~ Smurph <3

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AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr

Eddie Munson in black and white

Out Of The Cold - August Lione, King of Mydenya, is in love with his dead wife. Admittedly lonely and touch starved, he reluctantly marries Lyca Ingemar to stifle the requests of his advisors and to have an heir or two. He begins to fall for his new wife while she treats their marriage as one of duty and convenience, wishing she was at her cottage in the woods instead of with him.

As war looms and Lyca's past comes to light, can her and August's budding relationship survive the revelations coming out of the cold?

Stuck in the Middle - After a bad relationship, you make the self-destructive decision to sleep with your stepbrother, Eddie. When Steve Harrington enters the picture, your life changes in ways you never expected. [SMUT] [Throuple AU]

Routine Maintenance - After prison, Spencer spends two years wandering the country in search of himself the way Gideon did. When he finally makes his way to Thunderbird, California, his car breaks down, and he meets a small-town motel owner with an attitude and a collection of townspeople that help him see how much living he has left to do. [Runaway AU] [SMUT]

Zero to Hero - After being saved by a strange girl living in the Upside Down, Eddie recuperates with her in a secluded cabin away from the rest of the world. [Eddie Munson x Experiment 000!Reader][SMUT]

Cherry Baby, Part 2, Part 3 - Needing a way to pay for your daughter's dance lessons, you turn to Eddie Munson's porno side business for cash. [3 Parter][SMUT] COMPLETED

Lesser of Two Evils - When you escape your abusive boyfriend Loki's compound, you flee through the streets of New York only to be found by his rival. Caught in the middle of the war between HYDRA and the Norns, you agree to give James Barnes your body in exchange for protection.[SMUT]

Note: This is a dubcon/noncon fic! Heavy violent content and smut will be prevalent. Read at your own risk and mind the warnings at the beginning of each chapter. [Dark Mafia Romance]

Over Your Shoulder - A familiar face from Spencer's past joins the BAU, his ex-girlfriend Jasper Donnelly, who left him fourteen years, two months, and fifteen days ago. A slow-burn love story in which Jasper and Spencer figure out who they are together and apart, and whether or not the horrific things they'd done and been through over the years are enough to keep them together... or destroy them. [Smut] [Long Lost Love AU] [Angst with Happy Ending]

Operation: Sand Leopard - A year after leaving the BAU, Spencer Reid is restless and struggling to adjust to civilian life. Not finding any fulfillment or respite in it, he decides to take a position with Homeland. On assignment he meets you, a former Master Gunnery Sergeant with the USMC, struggling to find a drug trafficker and terrorist on one of the most dangerous bases in the world- Balad Air Base in Iraq... aka Bombaconda. [Eventual Smut] [Angst with Happy Ending]

Room 405 - You looked forward to Room 405 each week. Sitting at work, you would pout to yourself and lightly drag your pen up and down your thighs, thinking of all the wondrous things you two got up to in that hotel room. Chains, whips, spankings, anything could happen on Friday nights, 7 pm in Room 405. [PWP - Dom!Spencer] [Angst with Happy Ending][SMUT]

A Devastating Affair - When the Reader ends her affair with Spencer, they both spiral and start playing a toxic game of emotional chicken. [Toxic Relationship][SMUT]

Bunny and the Beast - When Reader's neighbor Spencer decides he just can't sit and watch her being all pretty by herself, they begin a toxic game of cat-and-mouse. [Dubious Consent/Toxic Relationship][SMUT]

Mutual Irritation - A year after prison, a jaded Spencer Reid takes on a special assignment at Emily's request... to babysit Finn Doyle's ex-girlfriend while the BAU hunts for him. He doesn't want to do it, nor does he want to be solely responsible for her safety. When the two meet, they don't get along, but over time they find they quite enjoy one another... even with the threat of a jealous Irish Arms Dealer hanging over their heads. [Angst with Happy Ending] [Jaded!Spencer Reid][SMUT]

The Arrangement - After Loki's lost bet with Thor, D.B. Cooper causes chaos on Midgard, and a war with Vanaheim rises in the East, so Odin proposes a wager of his own to his youngest son: An arranged marriage, one for the public. If the terms of the deal are honored for twenty years, Loki will be let out of the union and free from Odin's intervention or wrath ever again. Loki thinks this bet will be an easy win, but our boy is very wrong. His new wife has an agenda of her own, and Loki is determined to figure out what it is. Loki quickly finds himself out of his depth, unprepared for husbandry or fatherhood, and learns that marriages -arranged or not- are hard work. [Pre!Avengers Loki] [Arranged Marriage AU][SMUT]

Death From Above - Tim has a bad day. His girlfriend dumps him, he punches an FBI Agent, and they're getting a new girl in the office. He hooks up with a mysterious woman from a local joint, only to find out that she's their new co-worker. As Helen O'Malley settles more in Harlan County, her past comes back knocking, and it will send the whole office into an epic shitstorm that they may not recover from. [Tim Gutterson, Justified][SMUT]

One Way Mirror - You like to spend your down time at a certain type of club... anonymity is key, but then one day the boys from the team come in for some nighttime fun. [foursome, Reader/Alvez/Hotchner/Reid][SMUT]

A Moment In Time - Spencer spends his nights wandering, watching life go on without him. [Fluff, drabble, open ending, happy]

Man vs. Silicone - The ultimate showdown of which is the better toy... Eddie? or your sparkly pink guy you keep in the nightstand?[SMUT]

Daddy's Princess - You and Eddie have been sneaking around for months now. You call him Daddy and he calls you Princess... but so does your father. Eddie takes advantage.[SMUT]

I Want You - Reader makes Spencer jealous enough to act after he refuses to make a move [Smut]

Touch - Spencer and the Reader are forced to room together six months after their breakup, and when she wakes to him spooning her, she freaks out a bit [Ambiguous Ending, Angst]

No Funny Business - Forced to bunk with Luke and the Reader, Spencer finds himself a bit in over his head when he gropes the reader in her sleep [Threesome, Married!LukexReader and Spencer][SMUT]

Inkpot Gods - After giving birth to their son, Reader has complications during delivery. The doctors tell Spencer she might not wake up, and he has to prepare for a life without her for the sake of their son. Since he's not great with talking about his feelings except with her, Spencer decides to write a letter to nobody to work through his emotions. [Angst with Happy Ending]

Closet Confessions - A late night at the office leads to Spencer and Reader getting stuck in the supply closet. [GN!Reader]

A Real Father's Love - Spencer proves how much he wants to spend time with Reader's son, and it... sets something primal loose inside her. [Breeding Kink][SMUT]

The View From Here - Reader locks herself out of her apartment when she comes home drunk, and her handsome neighbor comes to the rescue.

Drunk on You - Spencer's nervous about never having had sex, but he wants to lose his virginity to you [First Times, P*ssy Drunk Spencer][SMUT]

Southern Belle - Loki is dating a young woman who is a fantastic cook and one day he realizes his pants are a tad tight. He’s gained some weight!

Fruit of the Flower - Loki helps Thor retrieve some magical plant and Loki gets too close when it blooms.

You're Not Them - Our dear reader has entered The Void! And she can't find Loki... but he finds her. The catch? It's not *her* Loki.

Here's the link to my old Masterlist!

Would you like to be on my taglist? Send me an ask and let me know which fandom you'd like to be notified for! <3

[naamahdarling]

In the hope that it helps calm your brain: Our cat, Peter, is being an excellent big brother to our baby. When the baby is crying, he comes to see if there's anything he can do to help, he stays completely calm even if baby is yanking on fistfuls of fur or whiskers (we are working on "gentle touch", but that's a complicated thing to learn when you're just seven months old), they are sometimes managing to play together, and when baby is restless at night, Peter will come to snuggle and attempt to purr them to sleep.

THAT IS HOW I WAS RAISED! With a cat nanny! It did wonders for me developmentally and temperamentally. I was feral and awkward with humans, I think by nature, but my god, my touch with animals. Cats specifically. My parents didn't worry about them being right in the crib with me so I had two who would nest with me, adult tabby shorthair brothers named Sam and Sergeant. It's lovely to know that they were there, even if I don't properly remember beyond a couple of memories from CRAZY early, when I was still in my padded crib.

It's so touching when a pet understands "baby" and decides to help raise something entirely not their species. Cats are incredible mothers, with a powerful and gentle maternal urge that will accept nearly anything as a kitten and will mother it. But I think we forget that boy kitties, too, have that in them, that urge to take care of family. We made something so wonderful when we domesticated them into a more social creature. It brought out this hidden beauty in them. Too many people don't know about it, or appreciate it, but your kid absolutely will. I'm so glad you will have lots of pictures. Peter is doing such a good job.

[mccall-muffin]

I can’t come to the pacific with you / / Dick Winters x Female Reader

Summary:  You are a sergeant that was with Easy Company from the start. Over the time you and Dick Winters got really close and fell in love. Now you are in Zell am See and are waiting to be deployed to the pacific.

Pairing:  Dick Winters x Reader

Warnings: Language

A/N: So this is my first OneShot I’m posting here. I hope you like it. I am not a native english speaker, so I’m sorry, if there are some mistakes in my writings. 

Nervously, you knock on the door of Dick's room. "Come in," you hear him call from inside and you hesitantly open the door. You quickly realize that he is not alone. "Major Winters? Do you have a minute?" you ask, looking him in the blue eyes. "Certainly, Sergeant Y/L/N. I'll talk to you later Ron, yeah?" says Dick, looking at Speirs, who briefly looks back and forth between you and Dick, amused. "Sure.”

Speirs leaves the room and closes the door behind him. You watch him for a moment before turning your attention to Dick. He is sitting at a table with some papers in front of him. As you take a few steps towards him, he lifts his eyes and looks at you before standing up. "How are you?" he then asks, taking your hand in his and stroking it gently. "Quite well thank you. You can tell the men are starting to get restless." "Why don't you sit down? Would you like something to drink?" he then asks, pointing to the chair. You nod and sit down while Dick fills two glasses with water and offers you one. "Thanks." "I was going to..." " Y/N there is something..." you both begin, but then stop and smile at each other. "You first," you say quickly, smiling sheepishly. Dick nods and then looks at you again. "I had a conversation with General Chapman this morning. I asked for a transfer." Incredulous, you look at him. "You what?" "I asked for a transfer. The 13th Airborne Division is about to go to the Pacific right away, and when I go, I want it done." "You're leaving? Me? The men?" Sadness spreads through you. "You can't do that, Dick. We need you. I... need you." Dick takes your hand in his again. "I'm not going. The request was denied." Relieved, you exhale. "Thank God." "I thought you should know anyway Y/N." "Thank you Dick. I appreciate it." "What did you want to talk to me about?" You bite your lip and then look Dick in the eyes again. "I don't know if I can go to the Pacific with you," you then say. "What do you mean?" "I... I don't know if it would be responsible." Dick looks at you, confused. "I don't know what you're getting at Y/N." "Well... I don't think it would be beneficial to my condition if I jumped out of a plane. Especially when, God knows, we're going to be here for a few more months." Dick is still looking at you, his brow furrowed, trying to match your words. "I think I'm pregnant, Dick." There is silence for a moment. Dick's gaze slides to the table and he seems to be thinking convulsively. "How... When?" he then asks, looking again at you, while you raise an eyebrow. "Berchtesgaden would be my guess. At the hotel..." "Oh," is all Dick does, remembering. "And you really think that you are.... pregnant?" "I can't say for sure, but I'm already three weeks late and.... I don't know either, Dick," you say, and you begin to sob. "Hey, hey," he comforts you and slides over to you. He takes you in his arms and you cry against his shoulder. "It's all good, Y/N. We'll do this together, okay?" "How can you say something like that? You're going to the Pacific and you're going to be there for I don't know how long and I'm going home and my dad.... Oh God, he's going to kill me." "Don't say that, Y/N." "How am I going to do that?" "I'll help you where I can Y/N. Do you understand that? I'm not going to let you down." Dick and you look into each other's eyes for a moment. Dick wipes the tears from your cheeks. "This is something we're both responsible for, and so we're both going to stand behind it, yes?" You nod at first, but then lower your head. "I'm going to give birth to a child out of wedlock.... God," you breathe, rubbing your face. Dick eyes you for a moment before standing up and digging into a box. Then he walks back over to you. "I was actually saving this for after the war, but given the circumstances..." He holds up a small box and you look at him. "What's this?" you ask, confused, but Dick is smiling at you. "Open it." He gives it to you and you open the small box and discover a beautiful ring inside. "Dick... I...", you stammer and look at it. " Y/N, listen to me," he then says, taking your hand in his. "Ever since I first saw you, you've had me under your spell. But I think you know that. Of course I would have imagined it all a bit differently, but you have turned my world upside down and with you I have experienced things.... I definitely didn't think I'd experience before marriage." You smile briefly. "You can say that, Mr. Honor." "Anyway, I know one thing, Y/N, and I think that's the most important thing of all. I love you. And I couldn't be happier that the little miracle inside you is growing  and that I get to start a family with you. Actually, like I said, I was saving this for home, but while we're here..." He takes the ring out of the box. " Y/N Y/L/N. I love you and I want to stay by your side forever. Would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man ever? Will you marry me?"

A few tears glisten in your eyes, but this time they are tears of joy. Your lips begin to tremble. "Of course! God! I love you," You then say, throwing yourself into Dick's arms, who sets you on your feet and holds you in his arms. Then he gently pushes you off him and kisses you passionately before putting the ring on your finger. "You don't know how happy you make me," he whispers against your lips and then places a hand on your stomach. Suddenly the door opens and you and Dick put a little distance between you. It is Nixon who enters. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know that..." he stammers, scratching his head. "It's okay Nix..." says Dick, smiling at you. "I, uh, was just leaving anyway. Major Winters, thank you for your time," you say, saluting him. However, you are held back by Nixon. "Whoa. Dick? I thought you were going to wait with that?" he almost shouts, taking your hand and lifting it up so the ring is visible. Dick and you exchange a look. "I think I'd better stow this somewhere else for now," you then say chuckling, taking the ring off your finger and putting it in your left breast pocket. "Okay, what's going on here? You think you can just get engaged and not tell me about it?" Again, Dick and you exchange a look. "Well, I actually had it planned for home first, too, but circumstances changed." Nix looks back and forth between you and Dick, who both just grin gently. "Oh come on. You're pregnant? Damn you Dick, you son of a bitch, I knew you had it in you." ***

Nothing much happened for the next few weeks. Some accidents occurred and you can tell that the soldiers are getting bored. Dick's job is to keep the soldiers busy, or if possible, send them home somehow. Some succeeded because of the points they had, for others they found a reason to send them home. You would have enough points to go home and Dick actually wants you to, but you decided to stay with the men. At least until they go to the Pacific. It is now start of September and slowly if you look closely, you can see your little baby bump. Luckily the uniforms are big enough to hide it. On this day, the company is playing a baseball game. You sit with Lip on the jeep and cheer on your friends. In the corner of your eye, you see Dick and Nix coming toward you and stopping at Speirs. Then Speirs calls you all together. You quickly run up to the officers and hear what they have to say. Dick looks at you briefly and smiles gently. "Listen up. Got some news," he then says, addressing all his men. "This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese." For a moment, it feels like the world stops. No one makes a sound and somehow the soldiers can't process the information Dick is giving them. "War's over," he then adds, and then they all start cheering. You take Lip, who is standing next to you, in your arms and relief spreads through you. Then you look at Dick, who smiles at you. When he nods, you don't hold back. You run up to him and throw yourself into his arms, earning yourself cheers from the men. "Finally!" you hear Luz shout and can't help grinning. Then you break away from Dick and look him in the eyes. He doesn't hesitate long either, and then he kisses you. In front of everyone. He doesn't care. The war is over. They all go home. And then he finally gets to marry the woman he loves.

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.