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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

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Wild Horses

Part 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.

🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.

Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.

Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.

At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.

The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.

He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.

And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.

On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.

Now back to the current.

That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?

"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.

You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."

You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.

"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.

God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.

"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.

"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"

"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."

Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.

So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.

Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.

"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.

"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.

"Soap? How?”

"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."

"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.

“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.

“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”

“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.

“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.

"The fuck is that?"

".................cocaine."

"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”

You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.

"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”

"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."

Right. "What kind is it?”

"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."

"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”

"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”

Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.

“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.

“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.

“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.

“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.

“They’re downright hideous.”

“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.

Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."

"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.

As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.

The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.

That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.

He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?

It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.

And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.

"What time will you be back?"

"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."

“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.

"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.

The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.

"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.

"The fuck are those?"

"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.

"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.

"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.

“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”

Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.

But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.

“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.

“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.

Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”

“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”

“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.

“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.

“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.

“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”

"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.

Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.

You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.

“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”

“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.

When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.

But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.

During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.

The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.

As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.

He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.

You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.

The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.

“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?

“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.

You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.

“What-what happened?”

“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.

“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.

“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."

Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.

Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.

“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”

“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”

“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."

“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.

“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"

“No. No, I’m fine.”

"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."

"Of course."

The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.

Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.

"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.

"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.

"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”

"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.

“I will?”

"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."

"Oh.....okay."

Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"..............Hey y/n."

"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.

"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."

Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.

He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.

The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.

Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.

“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.

"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."

Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."

The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.

Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.

The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.

Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”

“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.

“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.

“Sorry?”

“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”

“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."

After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.

This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.

Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.

Now, moving on.

By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.

So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.

When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ghost?”

Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.

“Is everything alright?”

Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.

“You’re not hurt are you?”

“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.

“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”

“Another time.”

“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.

He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.

You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.

“Well? Whadya want?”

“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“

“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”

“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”

“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.

“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“

Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.

"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”

A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?

Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.

"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.

“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.

“…………….”

"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."

“……………………..”

“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.

Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.

Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.

“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“

"I'll do it."

“What-“

“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”

“Alrigh-”

“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.

"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."

Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.

"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.

“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."

"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.

"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.

And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.

"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"

".................."

"Right. I forget you don't speak."

Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.

"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.

"............."

A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.

More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.

"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."

You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.

“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”

“……………….”

Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.

“REM.”

“……………….”

Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.

“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”

Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.

There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.

While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.

You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.

When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.

“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”

Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.

Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.

“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”

“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.

“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.

As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.

Part 4

Tag List: @swissy23 @sualocin @kristalhi @deakyspuff @sometimes-i-write-good @hamilfanyu @princessranch @ig-you-idiot @obitoshotaf @cavern-creature @at0mschutzbunker @eddiesbixch696 @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @jocecymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @aloudplace @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff @notabotiswear @thecraziestcrayon @lilwingedwolfy @sprkthere @shyyxzi @bookmark-anon @simplecole18 @itsourkisses-blog @here4thespice @sunndust @josephquinnswhore @spooniscute @xghostyx666 @nikolai-m-s @he4rtbloss0m @classifiedtoe @killergoddessmm @sm8th0p @lunarayx @iwannabeazoldyck @butterflypillows @lobeliaaaaaa @mxtokko

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

can't stop thinking about sevika spanking reader's pussy 🫠🫠🫠

ps: i'm obsessed with your writing and sevika nation is grateful to you for your service 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜 feel free to just skip it if you don't feel like it.

hngggg... (p.s. i'm obsessed with my sweet anons and readers, i'm so fucking lucky to have such a supportive community! <3)

men and minors dni

sometimes it's just a little love tap.

while you're fully dressed and cuddling, before you leave for work, while you and sevika dance in the kitchen together. sometimes she just wants to show you some affection, and the first thing she can reach is your cunt.

sometimes it's in the heat of the moment.

sevika's eating you out, and she wants to see you jump, she'll give your wet pussy a quick smack to watch you squirm. or right before she's about to sink her strap in, she smacks it just to watch the way your cunt clenches around nothing. sometimes, when she's got two fingers inside of you, she'll quickly pull out and smack your cunt, laughing at the way your wetness makes the smack sound sticky.

but sometimes, she gives you a full spanking session.

sometimes, if you've been pissing her off or teasing her too much, sevika will spread your legs and deliver swift, open palmed smack after smack to your cunt.

she's evil.

she turns you on so much.

each smack makes you jump and flinch, and to anyone else, it would seem like you aren't enjoying yourself. especially when you start crying.

but sevika knows better. she can see the way your clit becomes engorged, the way blood rushes to your cunt and makes it puffy and swollen, the way you get soaking fucking wet after one or two smacks.

"you're so fucking desperate, aren't you? getting off on this... nasty." she whispers from where she's got your thighs pinned, your cunt open and pulsing around nothing.

"it's supposed to be a punishment, baby. you've been teasing me all day, feeling me up and kissing me like a slut. but you'll get off on anything i give you, won't you?" she teases. you whimper above her.

"sevika!" you whine. she chuckles darkly, and spanks your cunt with a loud 'smack!'

your thighs quiver and you wail, your hips lifting up to hump the air as sevika draws her hand away. she laughs and holds her palm up to your face.

"look how wet you are." she says. you whine. "soaking my hand and i'm barely touching you."

"sev, please." you beg.

"please what?" she asks. "you're gonna cum from this, i know you are. you always do-- you're so fuckin' nasty. so what're you beggin' for?" she asks.

"it hurts!" you whine. she laughs.

"that's the point." she says, delivering another quick smack to your cunt. you shiver.

"sevikaaa!" you scream. she swoops down to kiss up your tears, and swats your cunt again. this time, she doesn't move her hand after her blow, cupping your throbbing cunt in her hands, holding you until the pain dissipates.

"you okay?" she whispers, the seductive purr of her voice gone. you whimper.

"just-- gimmie a kiss?" you ask. sevika smiles and nods, ducking down to kiss your clit. you giggle and moan, then pull sevika up by the hair. "on my lips!" you say, laughing. sevika snorts and grins, crawling back up your body.

"oh." she says, giggling, before leaning down to kiss you soundly. you hum against her lips. "you wanna keep going?" she whispers against your mouth. you nod.

"i'm close." you whine. she grins.

"'cause you're a little freak." she says, admiringly. you smile and spread your legs impossibly wider, shifting your hips so sevika can get a good eyeful of your swollen, soaking wet cunt.

she grins, and with a quick swat, she smacks your cunt again.

you gasp and moan, and sevika laughs down at you.

"how many more before you're cummin' around nothin'?" she wonders aloud. you whine and shrug.

"guess you'll just have'ta find out." you say. she grins.

"fuck, i love you." she says, punctuating it with a swift smack.

it only takes three more spanks to get you to cum, but the night is far from over.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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crushmeeren · 8 months

Text

Fics Master List

MDNI

🍒 You can call me crush 🍒

Everyone, in all my fics, headcannons, etc., is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Below is an accumulation of everything I’ve written so far

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

🪽😈Aziraphale/Crowley fics;

Deep Down A Little Bit Good

the one where Aziraphale explains why Crowley is good, at least a little bit, deep down on the inside. NSFW

Too Damn Long

the one where Aziraphale is gone for a few days and he shows Crowley how much he missed him. NSFW

🪽😈👀Aziraphale/Crowley/Reader fics;

The Devils Hour (Gender Neutral Reader)

The Devils Hour (Female Reader)

the one where Crowley has been gone for a week, reader misses him and Aziraphale helps reader feel better. Que Crowley walking in on them and joining the party, resulting in everyone being happy. NSFW

Escapades (Female Reader)

the one where reader is a soft dom and Crowley learns what pegging is. Aziraphale is just along for the ride. NSFW

🪽👀Aziraphale/Reader fics;

🪽👀 Millennia (Male Reader)

the one where reader falls in love with Aziraphale, starts feeling lustful things and having dirty thoughts and gets casted out of heaven. Reader never told Aziraphale how he felt when they were in heaven, thus he broke the Angels heart when he fell. Over 6,000 years later they finally get their happy ending. NSFW

—————————————————————-

My Hero Academia

🍰💥Miscommunication (bakutodo/fem reader)

the one where you and Shouto get into a fight, Katsuki is a good boyfriend and the three of you have amazing make up sex NSFW

🍓💥Lights Out (bakugou/fem reader/kirishima)

the one where Katsuki & Eijirou get jealous when a guy tries to dance with you at the bar, they take you home and remind you who you belong to. NSFW

🍓💥Back Aches (bakugou/fem reader/kirishima)

the one where you’re six months pregnant with Katsuki’s baby, Katsuki takes care of you when your back hurts, Eijirou comes home and well — they both take care of you then. NSFW

💥💥Bakugou/Fem Reader Headcannons part 1 SFW/NSFW

💥💥Bakugou/Fem Reader Headcannon/Drabble? NSFW part 2

🍓🍓Kirishima/Fem Reader Headcannons part 1 SFW/NSFW

🍓🍓Kirishima/Fem Reader SFW Drabble —feat. Dad Kirishima 🥹

🍰🍰Todoroki Shouto/Fem Reader Headcannons part 1 SFW/NSFW

💜💜 Tamaki Amajiki NSFW One Shot

🔥🔥Ashes - NSFW Dabi/Fem Reader One Shot

🔥🔥NSFW Things Dabi/Touya Would Say Fem Reader

💥🍓🍰 How they eat you out — Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki NSFW

💥🍓Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima NSFW Gym Scenario One Shot

————————————————————————

Jujutsu Kaisen

☠️☠️Choso/Fem Reader NSFW Drabble

💙💙Gojo/Fem Reader NSFW Drabble

💙💙Gojo/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons

🖤🖤 Fushiguro Megumi NSFW Drabble

💜💜 Okkotsu Yuuta NSFW Headcannons/One Shot

————————————————————————

Haikyuu

🪽Bokuto/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons part 1

————————————————————————

Fionna & Cake

❄️❄️Simon Petrikov/Fem Reader NSFW One Shot

————————————————————————

Attack On Titan

🪽💚Levi/Fem Reader NSFW & SFW Headcannons

————————————————————————

💕Multiple Men

🤤🤤 Anime men who love fucking you from behind

👅👅 Anime men who love getting eaten out

————————————————————————

🐉🐉Baldur’s Gate 3

🧛🏻🧛🏻 NSFW Things Astarion Would Say - Fem Reader

🐻🐻 NSFW Things Halsin Would Say-Fem Reader

————————————————————————

🪵🍄The Last Of Us

🐺🐺NSFW Things Joel Would Say - Fem Reader

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #bakugou x reader x todoroki #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #todoroki smut #dabi smut #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #bakugou x reader x kirishima #kirishima smut #kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyu headcanons #levi x reader #levi smut

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Note

Hey love! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader x one of the acotar men (ur pick) where reader has been feeling lonely. Not too bad but like enough where she’s sad and just wants to spend more time with him and the IC bc they’re all her friends

Thank you in advance ❤️

Hey love! I went with Azzy for this because I LOVE HIM I felt like it made sense with the story💜

Never Alone

Azriel x Reader (ft. the IC)

You admired the way the morning light glowed softly against Azriel’s golden brown skin, his onyx hair rumpled as he stretched his muscles. You sprawled in the sheets of your massive bed, sleepily watching your mate as he put on his leathers.

Your heart clenched as he began to arm himself with weapons, remembering what purpose for which he was leaving you this early in the morning - another mission. You sighed, unable to help the frown that marred your features as the loneliness washed over you. Azriel hadn’t even left yet, but you knew the feeling that was soon to accompany his absence all too well.

Hearing your sigh, Azriel turned around to face you. Concern washed over his face as his took in your saddened expression. “What is it, angel?” he whispered, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed as he brought a hand to gently stroke your hair. “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” you murmured with a sniffle. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, silently communicating he knew there was more that you weren’t telling him. Damn him for reading you so well.

With a small huff, you sat up further in bed, head propped up on one arm as you traced patterns on his thigh with your other hand. Refusing to look him in the eye out of embarrassment, you admitted, “I’ve just been feeling lonely recently. With you gone on missions so often, and everyone else in the family having their own mates and responsibilities... I don’t know. I know I’m not alone, but I still feel lonely. People care, but I know I’m not their biggest priority, and I just feel alone at times. Does that make sense?”

You felt Azriel’s scarred fingers gently tip your chin towards him, a look of guilt on his face as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I am so sorry if I have ever made you feel like you are not the most important thing in my life. I-“ You cut him off. “You do not make me feel unimportant. I understand how important your role is in our Court - your willingness to sacrifice for the greater good is one of the many things I love about you. It’s just harder some days than others, Az.”

He nodded in understanding, processing your words. “Really, Az. I love you, I’m proud of you, and I’ll see you when you get home,” you promised, turning to press a kiss to his palm as you held it against your cheek. Azriel leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you, angel. I’ll be back as soon as I can to show you how loved you are.”

~~~

You’d drifted off to sleep while reading in the library - a familiar hand on your shoulder waking you, eyes opening to see your favorite hazel ones staring back at you. Arms wrapping around Azriel, you hugged him fiercely, kissing his neck before pulling back to kiss from his jawline to his lips. “I missed you so much,” you whispered in between kisses. “I missed you more, angel.” Azriel pulled back, taking your hands in his as a rare bright smiled graced his face. “I have a surprise for you.”

You were bouncing with joy as Azriel helped you up, taking your hand in his as he guided you out of the library. He swiftly pulled you around to his front, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek. You giggled, looking down to see flowers and glitter covering the hallway. “Az, what is all this about?” He just hummed, guiding you towards the doorway to the dining room.

The entire Inner Circle was seated at the table, smiles on their faces as they greeted you with hugs. You took your seat next to Azriel, noticing how the table was filled with your favorite foods. Your confusion was obvious as you turned to Az, whispering, “honey, what is going on?”

Rhys interrupted, standing with a glass in hand, raised in toast. He looked at you with a kind smile. “Today, we celebrate you. For everything that you do for all of us, and how much you make our lives better.” Your eyes welled with tears at this kind words, the rest of the IC cheering in toast to you. You laughed, “you guys know it’s not my birthday, right?”

Azriel chuckled, pulling you into his side as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “We know it’s not your birthday, my love. But we all agreed that you deserve a celebration. Just for being you.” Mor eagerly leaned forward, telling you all about her plans to take you shopping this week - Feyre butting in to ask for your help assisting with her art classes, if you’d like. Elain would love your help in the garden, and Cassian and Nesta were eager to invite you to training.

Your mind was reeling with the sudden attention, feeling the need to interject. “I’m so thankful that you all are so willing to let me interrupt your plans this week, but it’s not necessary.” Feyre put her hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as she assured you. “Azriel mentioned that you were lonely. We all assumed that you wanted that space to yourself, but please don’t think that you aren’t a priority to all of us. You’re my family, and I know everyone here agrees that you are special and loved. If you ever feel lonely, we are here for you. And these plans aren’t just for this week - I want you to help at the art studio, with Nyx, to go to dinner...” Cassian interjected at that moment, giving you a look of sincere encouragement. “We are always here, when you need us. You should never have to be lonely. You’re my sister.”

You leaned into Azriel’s embrace, head on his shoulder as you murmured a “thank you”, continuing the conversation as you made plans with your family.

As dinner finished, you sat back in your chair, quietly admiring the scene before you - a table full of the people you loved, all enjoying each others’ company. Eyes welling with happy tears, you smiled brightly as you took in each face in the room, bright with joy. All of them gathered here with a purpose - intent on showing you what was clear. You are loved, and you are not alone.

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photogirl894 · 23 days

Note

Congratulations on all of the followers, Morgan 🥳

I'm popping in for a very simple event request. Fem!Reader x Fives with Prompt #6: A hug from behind. Something soft and sweet. I'm a sucker for physical affection 🥰

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Thank you so much, @the-bad-batch-baroness , my friend!! 💜

Oooh, I haven't written for Fives yet! This should be fun!! 😊

"Wherever You Are"

6. A hug from behind

Pairing: Fives x fem reader

***

Being a waitress at 79's was definitely one of the best jobs you'd ever had. A good majority of the Clones who frequented the establishment were very friendly and regaled you with plenty of thrilling war stories.

However, the biggest reason why working at 79's was the best job you'd had was because that was where you'd met Fives, your boyfriend and the sweetest, most loving man in existence.

He'd started off trying to flirt with you, just like how a lot of other Clones would, and you thought nothing of it, playfully going along with it, even though you did find him extremely handsome. Then one night, he sincerely told you he thought you were beautiful, kind and fun and he wanted to take you on a proper date since he'd be on Coruscant for a little while. That surprised you in a good way and you'd accepted...and boy, were you glad you did! He was nothing but gentlemanly and charming through your whole first date: opening doors for you, complimenting you and showing interest in you and your life. Which was so much more than any other man you'd gone on dates with.

Since that day, he spent as much time as he could with you when he was back on the planet. Even if you were working, he would just chill at 79's until your shift was over and then you two would go back to your apartment just to have time alone. Sometimes if his squad mates came with him, then you would hang out with them at the bar once you were off the clock and enjoyed a few drinks with him and his brothers. They were a good group of men whose company you enjoyed. They treated you kindly and with respect, seeing how much you meant to Fives. You couldn't be happier.

Fives had been gone on a mission for a while and you found yourself missing him more than usual. It had been a rough few days; you had crashed your speederbike because the other driver wasn't watching, so you had to take a good chunk out of your savings to pay for repairs. Then you'd had to kick out some drunk guys because they were getting too handsy with you and you got called some pretty nasty names. If Fives had been there, he would've beat those guys to a pulp for ever daring to lay a hand on you or for speaking to you in such a way. He would've defended your honor, even if you felt you could handle things yourself. You just wished he was there to talk to, to hold you while you just had a good cry over all the frustrations you were feeling...but you knew that he had more important things to worry about as a soldier. He had a duty to the Republic that he needed to fulfill first before his duty to you. That's what you had to keep reminding yourself.

Finally, your shift ended and the bar cleared out of patrons. It was just you and the music playing over the speakers, so you started cleaning the tables. A few minutes later, you heard the doors swish open behind you.

"We're closed," you stated without looking, continuing to wipe the table in front of you.

There was no response for a second and then all of a sudden, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist as someone hugged you from behind.

You then felt the familiar scratch of a goatee on your skin as the person nuzzled into your neck and said in a low voice you knew well, "Looks like we've got the place all to ourselves, then."

With a gasp, you flipped around in his arms and looked into the handsome, loving eyes of your Fives.

"Fives!" you cried, jumping up and throwing your arms around his neck.

His embrace tightened around, rocking you back and forth. "Oh, I've missed you so much, babe," he said to you.

"I've missed you, too," you replied. "I'm so glad you're back. It's been an awful last few days and I've wished so badly that you were here."

Fives tilted your head up and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Well, I can't have you feeling down anymore now that I'm here," he said. "Come on, let's go home. We can cuddle on the couch, I'll make you a nice cup of tea and you can tell me everything that's happened."

You tilted your head curiously. "Home? You mean my apartment?"

He snickered. "Babe, my home is wherever you are." Then he cupped your cheek and brought you to him, kissing you in a way that made all your worries and frustrations just fade away.

"You really mean that?" you asked him with a smile.

"Of course, I do. I love you," he confessed to you, touching his forehead to yours.

You'd had a feeling for a while now that he loved you, but the occasion to finally say so just hadn't come up yet, especially with him being gone on missions so much. It made your heart soar to finally hear those words from him at last.

"I love you, too, Fives," you said back, feeling a massive weight lift from you. "Now...let's go home."

Photogirl894's Physical Affection prompts

Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics

#star wars the clone wars #clone wars fives #clone wars prompts #fives x reader #photogirl894 1300 followers

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 3 months

Note

I saw your requests were open! Could I please get David having a crush on a fellow spooky grumpy girl with a secret soft side?? 🥺 I think it would just be so cute if David met his equal and they turned to absolute butter for eachother

It's a bit different than the ask, and a bit longer than I expected, but it just sort of happened? It starts a bit dark, but David definitely likes her? Anyway, I hope you like this!💜

_______________________

There had been disappearances on the boardwalk, even more so than usual. Where the boys fed every couple of days, enjoying a bonfire party, they were, of course, partially to blame. But the latest missing posters that had gone up on the notificationboard had nothing to do with the boys. The new posters showed men, in their mid to late thirties, all having disappeared after going out for a couple of drinks.

David had been the first to notice the discrepancy between their kills and the number of disappearances - and he had decided that he would look into them. If there was another vampire hunting on their territory, they needed to be dealt with. Based on the kills, David would say that if it was a vampire doing the killing, it was a female.

He had gone to the bar where all of the victims had been seen before they'd been killed and was not surprised to see a young woman - no older than twenty-five if he had to guess - walked up to the bar. She was dressed in all black, and David was certain that he could see the silhouet of a knife under her coat. Her dark hair had been tied into a bun, and even though it was dark outside, she was still wearing her sunglasses. Normally, he'd find it pretentious, but somehow, it suited her.

He kept looking as she moved to sit at a table, becoming more interested when a man in his early thirties asked to join her.

"A pretty bird like you wouldn't mind, now, right?" The man slurred. It was small, but David noticed the hint of disgust on her face.

"Sure." Her voice was low, and where David expected it would normally be a warm and soothing voice, right now it was ice cold.

"You see, I've been a bit lonely since I've came here, and I saw that you were alone and I thought that maybe-"

"That I could keep your bed warm?" She tilted her head slightly. "That I'd be a good companion for a single night?"

"Well, not necessarily just one night, but you get what I mean right, I mean surely a lonely girl like you would-"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"- like the attention, right?"

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. She put the glass down and looked at the man in front of her.

"You're wrong," she smiled sweetly, "I am not lonely. Besides, even if I was, why would I waste my time on you? Someone who's willing to fuck the very first stranger he meets?"

"That's not-"

"But that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

David had listened closely up until now, and he couldn't help but like the woman. He had noticed, very early on in the conversation that she had this indescribable hint of danger hanging around her. Sadly - or luckily, depending on your point of view - the man in front of her had ignored it, letting himself be guided by his own lust.

"Y-yeah, but -" the man stammerd, shutting up when he saw her shake her head.

"Well, maybe I can help you. Just a little bit."

She stood up and walked out the door, the man quickly following behind. David followed as well, curious to see how she would end this. She had entered the back alley and lent against the wall.

"Can you maybe suck my-" the man started sounding somewhat hopeful, but he was quickly cut off.

"If you think that you can order me around, I'll not only cut your dick off, but also slice your tongue in half." Her voice was darker and colder than before, and only now did the man realise that she was dangerous.

"What?!" The man paled.

"Pants down. Now."

"What? Why? You freaking bitch!"

"Why? I saw you, Rick. I saw how you tried to convince students to sleep with you."

"It was by their own choice!"

"Really? 'Either you fuck me, or I make sure you won't be able to pay your tuition' is a choice?"

The man - Rick - nodded, albeit fearfully.

"I hate people like you. Do you really think you deserve so much more, simply because you have more power? More connections?" The woman had revealed her knife, swinging it around playfully. "Pants down. Now. Or I'll make you regret it even more."

Shakily, the man did what she said, and David grinned as he saw the satisfaction in her face as she carried out her promise. The man sunk to the ground, crying. "Let's this be a lesson for you, Rick."

"You sick fuck!"

"I know where you live. I know where you work. If you ever think of crossing that line in any way - I will know. And I will ruin you."

With those words, she left him, crying and bleeding in the alley behind the bar.

"I don't know who you are, but I know you're there." She stopped in the middle of the street. David smiled, appearing behind her.

"I like your way of handling things."

She turned around, somewhat surprised. "Hm. Never thought a guy would say that."

David grinned, realising she looked more relaxed now than she had done in the previous hour.

"So, you saw all that?" She asked, cleaning her knife and putting it back in her coat pocket.

"I did."

"And?"

"I think we have a lot in common."

"What, you also cut dicks off when someone harasses some girls?"

"I do worse."

At that, she smiled, offering him her hand. "I'm Nancy."

"David."

It was quiet for a moment before she spoke up. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure. My treat."

"Why?"

"I'd like to know you better. Tell me, why do you hunt these men down?"

She smiled, a hint of sadness present in her expression. "My younger sister has been scared to start uni after one of her friends had been harassed by a teacher. I am making sure she can go without feeling afraid."

"You're the cleanup crew?"

Nancy nodded. "I'd do anything for my sister."

David smiled at that, leading her to a small cafe. He ordered for them, and the two of them talked for hours. The more they talked, the more David realised he not only liked Nancy's way of handling things but practically everything about her. Nancy, although she was a bit apprehensive at first, began to feel flustered when he'd tell something or when he really looked at her. He made her feel special and wanted and normal for going on her clean-up mission. They talked about everything, and David was surprised to find that Nancy was part of an animal rescue team. And that she loved nothing more than to watch silly romcoms and that she sometimes wished she could go and explore hidden ruins in the hope of entering some magical fantasy world. How she loved the idea of magic and fantasy but had always loved vampire stories the most. David had grinned at that.

When the cafe closed, somewhere around three in the morning, she was more than happy to accept his offer to drive her home.

"David?" She asked as she got off his bike. "Would you maybe like to, well, mee me for dinner tomorrow?"

"How about I show you some hidden ruins that will lead you to a fantasy world?"

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #tlb #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys x reader #lost boys

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artemis32 · 1 year

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Jrksnsk Ur yandere erasermic tho!! It's so good haha. Can I ask what do you think are the ways the reader can hurt them back? Because I noticed that your version of them is rougher(? Or maybe harder? I'm sorry I'm not good w/ words) than others (and I love both versions fyi!!)

So I'm just curious what kind of actions the reader can do to kind of get to them or hit them where it hurts, whether emotionally or physically haha. Like they're so shock or hurt that they can't even punish the reader for it- and if they do they're not that focused on what they're doing.

(bsksnsks I forgot but please feel free to ignore this if you're not taking requests rn or something 😭😭💜)

subjugation drabble v

this is such a delicious thought, i will run with it

subjugation masterlist

So, to truly get to either one of these men, you really have to take some below-the-belt shots. No holding back.

If you're too kind or soft about it, they'll laugh you off as they usually do.

If you're harsh and rough about it, but not enough, they'll just end up annoyed and take it out on you.

You need to stun them to the point of silence, truly shock them.

It's not an easy feat, and if you give them any time to think over what you've done, you'll probably be in more trouble than you'd thought, but if you manage to properly get under their skin, then you've earned yourself some peace and quiet for a while.

And if you do a really good job, you might actually get them to reflect on what they've done - not that they'll ever let you go, they'll just apologise and give you a bit more leniency.

Now, let's get to it.

Verbal

We've already established that calling them perverts or anything along those lines gets them super riled up, though not in the way you want. They become physically aggressive and aren't afraid to put you in your place if they think you've gone too far.

That being said, there are a few verbal jibes that can actually get under their skin, though probably not enough to shock them to a point where they genuinely have no idea how to react.

You could pay special attention to the fact that you were their student - don't outright mention it, but subtly allude to the fact that they were your teachers, people you trusted, long before you caught their eye. That'll give them pause, if only for a moment. After all, you're right.

Their feelings towards you are already wrong on so many levels, but add to that the fact that you were their underage student when they first met you? Regardless of the fact that nothing happened while you were their student, it strikes a nerve.

They, especially Hizashi, feel queasy for a few hours after that.

The best part is they can't even punish you for saying it, because you didn't actually say anything.

Or.

The option which will probably get you the lashing of your life.

You could mention their old friend.

How you found out about Oboro, they'll probably never find out. But regardless, you know about him, and their relationship with him, and you use that to your advantage.

Mention how disappointed your friend would be if he knew that this is what you've resorted to.

They'll be in too much shock to truly retaliate.

"What would he say? If he knew that his two best friends kidnapped a girl nearly half their age because they were just that pathetic?"

You might be expecting a backhand through the face, or a hit hard enough to send you flying, but it never comes.

They just stand there, shocked and appalled by your words, not even able to punish you for tone or your words.

(I'll probably write a separate drabble for this because damn, I love the potential with this piece)

Physical

A good old fashion kick to the groin should do it.

I'm not even kidding - if one day, you reach your limit, eager for even a mere two minutes of peace and quiet, and you decide to go for the nuts - well, whoever you hit will be down for a while.

They'll probably punish you for it, but that means admitting that you managed to pull one over on them, which they won't do. And, they're both well-seasoned pro-heroes. They should know better than to fall victim to a cheap shot like that, so it's completely on them.

Same goes for any head shots that manage to knock them out.

They aren't worried about you getting away, but if you manage to sneak up behind one of them and knock them unconscious - with an object or your own hands - they probably won't punish you, because again, it's on them for not paying more attention. They take it as their own punishment for their lack of awareness.

Plus, they'll never admit it, but the teachers in them are proud of how resourceful and smart you can be when you plan things like that out. It almost warms their hearts.

To them, you're more like a playful kitten than an actual threat.

Months of isolation and inactivity have made sure that any physical advantage you may have had, had melted away. It was difficult to maintain stamina or muscle strength when you were locked up inside for most of the day, and the fact that the two of them watched you like hawks whenever they were around didn't help either.

You couldn't do that much damage to them, at least not physically.

Emotional

The cliché "when you hurt yourself, you hurt us too" is something they'd say (or at least, Hizashi would).

To be completely honest with you, emotionally manipulating the two of them is actually pretty easy.

They truthfully do feel bad about what they've put you through, but they'll never admit it. Yes, they feel bad, so some subtle emotional manipulation would work pretty well on both of them.

Some small mention of the life you used to have; of the longing you feel for what you've lost - it won't really amount to much.

But overtime, it begins to wear on them.

They know how much they've made you suffer. They know, and they feel remorseful. Not enough to grovel and beg, or let you go, but enough for it to weigh heavily on them.

If you hurt yourself to hurt them - emotionally, physically, or otherwise - well, it'll work. Probably better than you'd like it to, honestly.

Immediately after they find out, they'd be stunned, unable to muster any reaction beyond silence. It'd take them a while to process it, but they'd eventually come to terms with it. After that though, they'd hover even more than they already do. They aren’t typically the kind of people who like to coddle you, but they’ll go above and beyond to crowd your space and take up all of your time.

Hurting yourself in any way would definitely get the reaction you want.

That and, if you expressed any emotional ailments you had because of them. That in particular would hurt Shouta - he loves you, and to hear that his actions hurt you - it kills him inside. He does what he does to keep you safe and happy, so it hurts to hear first-hand that it does the opposites.

Like I said, immediately after you’ve expressed your emotional distress, Shouta in particular is the most likely to give you some space.

It’s more to give himself time to think, reflect on himself and his role in everything, but it works out well enough – you’ll get some space from him and his overwhelming presence, and he soaks in the worry and anxiety for a few days before acting on whatever he’s decided.

With Hizashi, it has the opposite effect. He won’t give you any amount of space. Unlike Shouta, who gives you some space for a few days before crowding you, Hizashi immediately overwhelms you.

Of course, in his mind, you feel this way because he hasn’t given you enough love or attention, so clearly the only way to remedy the situation is to overcompensate for what he’s missed.

To emotionally manipulate him, giving him the cold shoulder works surprisingly well. Considering this is a fully grown man, you’d think he’d be able to easily distinguish when you’re trying to manipulate him, but he doesn’t.

If you really want to add insult to injury, give Shouta all of your attention – go above and beyond with your affection. Hizashi will think he’s done something unforgivable.

Cue the begging and pleading.

Be careful with that route though – Shouta is smart enough to see through your antics, and if he sees that you’re trying to manipulate or hurt Hizashi with your games, he’ll shut it down immediately. And then you’ll have a punishment to deal with on top of the usual treatment you receive from them.

Balancing both men while simultaneously manipulating them is a difficult feat, but if you’re smart and patient, you’ll manage. And truly, the results will be worth it.

You’ll have space from the two of them, some much needed peace and quiet, and two mopey men eager for your forgiveness.

Don’t take too long to wrap it up though – their remorse and sadness will very quickly turn to irritation and anger.

After all, they’re in control. You shouldn’t get to dictate your relationship with them, especially not when they’re so generous and take care of your every need without so much as a thank you in return.

But yeah, that's how you can hurt them back.

Their reaction ranges from mild irritation to genuine shock, but no matter what you do, they won't let you go, no matter how sorry they are.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #erasermic #eraserhead #present mic #hizashi yamada #shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #subjugation #subjugation ask #.anon.#art answers

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cherry-bomb-ships · 1 month

Text

Waaaaa its my anniversary with Hopper tomorrow (technically today) and I wanna watch episode 1 but also I gotta get up at 9 and its midnight :(

#I WANNA SEE MY JIMMY BOY....#my big marshmallowwwww my precious jimmy bearrrrrr 🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖#man its honestly been a long time since ive felt hard feels for him but MAN im actually rly excited to rewatch season 1!!!#maybe the wife will lwt me watch just like the first ten minutes.... enrichment 👉👈💖💖💖💖💖#ruby rambles #💜: where have all the good men gone

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afriendlyblackhottie · 1 year

Note

get chris into a room with jiggling butts and its GAME OVER💀

Request: Sorry but I was just wondering if you could do a C Evans or S Stan fan fic about a famous black reader because I haven’t seen you do one in a while . I don’t mind if you don’t I’m just asking. 😁

Need to Know

Summary: as soon as you laid eyes on chris you knew you needed to have him

Pairings: Chris Evans x famous!black!reader

Warnings: smut, minors dni, daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex

(A/N: idk wanted to put something out for Halloween. Obviously title credited to Doja Cat. Unedited (sorry). Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————-

Chris felt almost overwhelmed as he walked into the room. Not even knowing where to start.

This isn’t how he planned to spend his Halloween, but if anything it felt pretty appropriate. He wasn’t exactly sure what the theme for the video was, but he couldn’t wait to see after you got out of hair and makeup.

He was used to living life as a player but this was something else. When you invited him to be apart of your video shoot he’d looked up what to expect but damn. This was something else.

What had started out as a little joke on the timeline with you asking what his number, sign, and how he liked his eggs had turned into this.

While the two of you joked around on Twitter at first, things had quickly escalated to him actually giving you his number. Fans geeking out because how fucking unexpected. But apparently you’d watched Infinity War for the first time and had to know.

Leading you to post.

Daaaaamn what’s your name, what’s your sign, how do you like your eggs in the morning? Can I get that number booo daaaamn he fine

Obviously the internet practically exploded.

Especially when he responded.

Chris. Gemini. Scrambled.

Normally he didn’t do shit like that but fuuuuuuck he saw that ass. And those tits. How he wanted to put his lips on your brown skin and feel how soft you were.

And honestly the more he talked to you, the more he liked you. But meeting hadn’t been possible with your schedules. That’s why he was trying so hard to keep his eyes to himself.

Not that it was really that hard. You looked… you were the star for a reason. But shit he was still a man.

Maybe this was a test.

You had to know he was into you and clearly you were into him. Maybe you were making sure he could keep his hands to himself and… shiiiiit he didn’t even know they made asses like that.

“Cah-ris,” you said in a sing song voice as you came up to him. “What do you think?”

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from a girl walking by him. You giggled as you looked at him. Giving him a little twirl.

Chris couldn’t help it as he let out a laugh at your costume. Not that you didn’t look good, but he just surprised.

Your skin had been painted green, antennae’s coming out of either side of your temple. Still half naked but honestly he was kind of appreciating the whole alien aesthetic. You were even wearing a shirt that had the nasa logo with your name in it. Obviously that was some merch he’d need to cop.

“You look-,” he laughed more. “Beautiful. You look beautiful. I like your antennas.”

Not like he was lying. By now he’d done a pretty fair amount of ‘research’ on you. Had practically studied your Wikipedia as curiosity had killed the cat and he needed to know more. From there it went to watching a few videos and fuck you really liked to be half naked. And you looked cute as hell right now.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t done the same. Had gone on a googling spree when you saw him fine as hell in that movie.

Then you had the nerve to get along over text which lead to a phone call which lead to face time. Talking at all hours of the night. Staying up late despite the time differences.

Sure he knew he swore off dating celebrities, but he had a soft spot for you. It was the same for you too. Had promised yourself no more men like Chris. They never deserved what you had, but there was something telling you that he would be the exception.

“Thank you,” you said with a grin. “You need to get ready, though. You’ll be on soon.”

Your voice had come out like a purr. A natural sex appeal that just seemed almost unfair. He had a hard time finding someone to match his energy and shit you definitely gave him a run for his money.

If anything it scared him a little. That you could switch over so quickly. Going from hot as hell to his sweet girl mumbling into the phone because you wanted to wait up for him and say goodnight. It was quite the mix. Probably why he was so fucking obsessed.

The way you hugged him when you first saw him, letting him pretty much mold into you. Wanting to feel his whole body swell against yours. Had been dying for one of his hugs even though you’d never tell him that as you tried to keep up this persona for the day.

You’d caught him staring at that girl’s ass. He’d been so cute trying to be all sneaky. It was okay you didn’t mind. Besides you hired girls like her for a reason.

At least it had been fun for him to watch you do your thing as you filmed. Next time you’d have to come see him on set. Of course there wouldn’t be any half naked men around you that aren’t him, but he kind of appreciated that you didn’t seem to care in the reverse.

As he was almost done getting his own makeup on, you popped your head in. Still in your NASA shirt, but with your makeup a little more dramatic. Fuck you were hot.

“I don’t know if I told you, but thanks a lot for coming through. Definitely an upgrade from some male model,” you said, leaning against the vanity as the makeup artist finished with him.

“You know I’m always a phone call away, Babe.”

He was just so sexy when he said shit like that. Fuck he looked so hot. Was making you consider changing your thong because he looked so yummy he was making your pussy all drippy.

“Ya know I’ll hold you to that.”

He smirked. “I was hoping you would.” You were still in your heels and Chris noticed the way you were shuffling to get comfortable. “You wanna sit?” He asked.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to get up for me.”

That’s when he rolled his eyes because that’s not what he was asking as he reached up to tug on your hand. Obviously pulling you into his lap.

“Chris!” You squealed.

All he did was chuckle as he helped you get situated. Besides the two of you were alone for the first time ever. Of course he was gonna get your ass on his lap. “Comfortable?” Was all he asked.

“Mhm,” you replied. Fuck he smelled so good. And these tiny little shorts you were wearing. It really was not a good idea that he’d done this.

But you looked fucking hot perched on his lap. Even as an alien.

“How much time do we have?” He asked.

“A few minutes,” you replied.

“Yeah?” He asked. He didn’t mean for his eyes to drift down to your tits but that’s exactly where they went. Fuck they looked so good. Shit he needed to stop before he-

“Wait, are you?” You giggled. “Oh my god! Chris!” Then you gasped as you felt it through his pants. Oh shit. Damn. That was a thick ass-

“Shit. Sorry.” He blushed. Really didn’t mean to get like this. What were you a telekinetic.

“It’s okay,” you purred again as you trailed your fingers on his arm.

“Yeah?” He asked, licking his lips. “You don’t mind?”

You shook your head, looking up at him through your lashes. “No.” You let out another little gasp as he pushed it against you.

Fuck he liked that noise. “What about now?” He asked moving you over it. Fuuuuck he was thick you could tell. No wonder you were obsessed with him when you first saw him. Could tell he had good dick.

Once again you shook your head, biting your lip. If anything leaning into him a little more. “No. It feels good.”

Not like you hadn’t been fantasizing about him for weeks. The real thing just might beat the him you’d created in your head.

“You’re trying to get me into trouble, huh?” He asked into your ear.

You giggled again. “Maybe.”

“Fuck you’re cute,” he said ready to lean in and then end it. Didn’t seem fair that they’d be sharing their first kiss on screen when he had you like this already.

“Mr. Evans, you’re on in five,” someone said through the door before he the the chance.

He groaned. “Okay,” he replied.

You pouted before standing up. Dammit. “I should go get changed.”

Chris nodded before standing up with you. “I’ll go with you.”

“You’re just trying to see me naked.”

Fuck yeah he was.

————

When it was his time to go on and you made eyes at him from across the bar, he could feel himself getting hard again. Which was not what he wanted with the camera on him like this.

At least as you felt yourself getting wet in your thong, no one would be able to tell. He couldn’t stand there with his dick hard as hell. Only made worse when it was time for you to start shaking your ass against him.

“You know what the fuck you’re doing,” he whispered in your ear when it was time for him to hit on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back into his. As if what happened in his dressing room didn’t just happen.

Fuck it felt so good to have him this close to you. Tits pressed to his chest. You hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet as you grabbed his hand to lead him to the dance floor.

Grabbing his tie as he put his hands around your waist. Fuck you could feel him against your ass. He was thick.

Of course you’d went asking around about him. Hollywood was a small town and you didn’t want to waste your time. But it was kind of why you were so down bad because one of your friend’s friends had said that his dick was a ten out of ten and now that it was right there you really wanted to check for yourself.

Only made worse when the two of you had to finally kiss on the couch. He was used to having to do shit like this for roles but this was the first time he wished he’d gotten it out of the way first. Wish he could keep you straddling him without prying eyes.

Damn he couldn’t get you alone fast enough. You had to know what he was going to do to you when you were alone. Know you weren’t doing it on purpose but he could feel his breathing getting all labored and he could really do without having a panic attack with you on top of him.

“What are you doing after this?” He asked in your ear as the music played on.

“We were supposed to go to a party. Why?”

“Wanted to know if you wanted to hang out. Maybe watch some scary movies?”

“Um, not unless you plan on spending the whole night holding me,” you giggled.

That could definitely be arranged.

————

“Ready to go?” Chris asked. Poking his head into where you were getting changed. Back in his grey sweats and t-shirt. His NASA cap covering his hair.

“Yeah,” you replied, yawning as you stood up in your shirts to gather your bag. Kind of happy you weren’t going to that party anymore. Would much, much rather hang out with Chris.

He put his hand on the small of your back as he lead you to his rental car. Couldn’t wait to get you back to his hotel room.

His hand was on your knee the whole time as the two of you chatted. Glad that how easy it was to talk to you over text and the phone had translated well in real life. As bad as he wanted to rip your clothes off he was also pretty sure he could talk to you for hours.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

You giggled. “I don’t think you really want me to answer that.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I dunno know. Maybe I do.”

“Oh please. You know what I want.”

“I don’t know unless you tell me, Babe,” he replied, hand going up to finally make its way to your inner thigh.

Your mind just couldn’t help but wander to all of the things you’d been thinking about. Where the hell would you even start. You were definitely in the mood for a few things he could give you.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you said, opening your legs a little bit more.

Fuck you were trying to kill him. Chris was sure of that. He also didn’t wanna push his luck, but fuck you were right here giving him every sign that you wanted him to.

Surprisingly the two of you hadn’t explicitly crossed these lines over the phone. Had waited until you were face to face and yet it was like you’d been like this since forever.

He took the hint. Fingers getting really close to the edge of your shorts. Happy that you’d decided on something he’d be able to easily get passed.

“I dunno, Baby. If you really want something, you’ll have to tell me what it is. I don’t play games.”

Your pussy felt like it throbbed at that. Fuck he was so… ugh. You knew you wanted him worse than you can say.

“I want you to touch me,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He asked smoothing his thumb right over the center. Hips jutting out as you gasped. “Is that where you want me to touch you?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“That’s okay,” he said. Pulling up outside of the hotel so valet could park the car. You’d be fine. Could wait until you got inside.

You were all pouty and he took note to teach you some manners. Didn’t say please. Had the nerve to have an attitude as if you weren’t about to get what you want.

Chris grabbed your hand, had went through the back so nosy ass paparazzi wouldn’t have shit.

As he got you closer to his room, he leaned down to squeeze your ass. Making you squeak but you made no move like you wanted him to stop. Took it as a sign to grope you even harder.

Could barely hold on as he went to scan his keycard. Feeling yourself dripping all in your shorts. Not like he was any better off. Fuck you had him harder than he’d ever been.

As soon as the door closed, he picked you up. You wrapping your legs around his waist. Hands all in his hair as his settled on your ass.

Not wanting to waste anytime in pushing your lips together. Fisting his t-shirt in your hands as he finally kissed you. Fuck it was as good as you thought it would be. Knew he’d be a good kisser.

Didn’t even wanna make it to the bedroom as he sat down with you in his lap on the couch. Rocking your hips as soon as you could. Wanting to feel that fat dick.

“That’s so good,” you whined.

“What feels good?” He asked in your ear. “Gotta talk to me, Baby.”

“Your dick. It’s so good.” You whined.

“You haven’t even had it,” he said.

That’s when you climbed off of him because fuck it you were gonna get a taste at least. Getting on your knees to see his length pushed against the fabric of his sweats. Looking all nice and thick. Fuck your mouth was watering just thinking about it.

“Can I taste it?” You asked him.

Chris groaned as he looked down at that pretty face. Eyes begging for him. “Yeah, Baby,” he replied, licking his lips as you finally went to pull his pants down.

You gasped as his dick popped out. Jaw dropping as it finally came into view. Shit. Fuck. It was- ugh. She was so right this- fuck he had a pretty dick.

Biting your lip, you gulped getting closer to it so you could put your fingertips against it. “You’re so big,” you whimpered.

“Think so?” He asked, hissing because fuck your touch felt good already. You nodded before leaning up so you could place a kiss on the underside. Why the hell were you teasing him so bad.

Just prepping him with kisses like you were assessing the situation. Honestly unsure if you could handle this. Sure you felt him through his pants but now that you were face to face with it, your mind wasn’t letting you make up your mind.

Fuck can’t believe you wasted your makeup artists time in having her touch you up after you took all the green off. What a waste. Eyes were watering as soon as you tried to take him down your throat.

“Ah fuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back as you finally did it. “There it- fuck you’re such a good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Fuck it really was everything you’d built up in your head. Just too much and yummy.

Had you so wet as you slurped him up. Putting his hand on the back of your throat as you tried to deep throat him. “Right there, Baby,” he groaned. “Doing so good.”

You pulled off if him so you could kiss his balls. Wanting to show them attention too. Getting them all nice and covered with slobber.

Chris couldn’t believe how pretty you looked. Even with your makeup running down your face. Grabbing either side of your cheeks so you’d have to lean up. Wanting to kiss you again.

Not stopping himself so he ended up pulling you up. Making you get back in his lap.

This time he didn’t waste any time in touching you. First grabbing at one of your tits. Pinching your nipple between his fingers making you moan into his mouth. Putting his hands under your shirt so he could take it off of you.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered. Chris laid you down so he could kiss up your stomach. Getting to your tits so he could suck on your nipples.

“Ah!” You cried. Fuck his mouth felt so good. “Ugh right there,” you moaned.

He needed you so bad especially as he went to pull your panties off. Needing to finally touch you.

“No panties?” He asked when he finally pulled your shorts from you. Met with the sight of the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen.

“I had to take it off. You got me too wet,” you whined.

“That’s okay, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take care of you so good. Gonna make you cum so much.”

“Please?” You preened.

And who was he to deny you.

You tasted so damn good when he finally got the chance. Everything he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks didn’t even fucking top it.

“Fuck you’re such a- ugh- you’re such a daddy,” you managed to finally get out as he bent your legs back further.

“That’s it, Baby. I’m Daddy. Don’t fucking forget that.” He pulled away to say. “C’mere,” he said, snatching you up so he could finally take you to bed. While he planned spending his entire visit fucking you across every inch of this room, he wanted the first time to be on the bed where he could really fuck you right.

Well he did go back to his feast first. Not ready to stop eating you out. Better than any candy he could have eaten tonight. Couldn’t get enough.

“D-daddy,” you whimpered. “Oh! Ugh! You’re gonna make me cum. Please.”

That only made him eager to keep going until you let out a yelp, sitting up a little to grab the back of his head.

You cried out. “I’m- ugh- I’m cumming. Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me!” You sobbed.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Everything had told him to grab a condom but he just couldn’t wait anymore. He was so glad he didn’t because even as he pushed the tip in he couldn’t believe how wet you were.

Chris leaned down to kiss you as his thick dick seared into you. Pulling away when he bottomed out as you threw your head back. Eyes rolling to the back of your head. Already scratching this itch inside of you.

You knew the dick was gonna be bomb. Just knew it when he grabbed that fucking scepter looking handsome as hell. All broad shouldered and sexy.

Fuck you were so tight. So wet. Took a minute when he was fully inside of you to just take in the feeling of you wrapped around him so snug. Pushing your legs back with his biceps wrapped around them so he could hit the perfect angle inside of you. The both of you letting out grunts as he went as deep as he could. Nudging against your cervix.

“You’re- ah!” You cried out.

“I know, Baby. I know,” he said getting in your ear again.

Chris got on his knees, yanking you closer so he could start thrusting in and out of you. Rolling his hips in such a way that would have been mesmerizing if you could keep your eyes open.

“Nuh uh,” he said. “You better look at me when I fuck you.” You let out another grunt digging your nails into his arm. “Or I’ll stop,” he threatened when you didn’t do as told.

“No,” you whined opening your eyes, but fuck it wasn’t easy he was just going so deep what did he want from you. “Fuck. Please. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Baby. I just gotta teach you good manners, huh?” He asked. “That’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“I know,” you whimpered. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna keep cumming on my dick, huh?”

You nodded brow furrowed as you could barely hang on. Sobbing when it hit you. That clench in your lower stomach snapping as your pussy tightened enough to push him out.

Chris chuckled, climbing on top of you so he could kiss you. Giving you a minute. What can he say, he felt a little cocky that he was getting you so good. “C’mere, Baby,” he cooed pulling you into his arms. Laying down with you. Kissing you. “Maybe we should take a break. Get something to eat. Watch a movie.”

You nodded, not able to respond and just letting out a hiccup. Chris chuckled kissing your nose this time.

“Look cute as hell when you’re cumming on my dick. It’s okay. We got time. I’m not done with you yet.”

————

Obviously this break didn’t last long. Chris hadn’t gotten off yet and there was something in his eyes that definitely told you he wanted you to ride him.

Especially as you climbed into his arms when any scary parts came on. Hiding in his arm when anything happened. Of course the two of you were going to end up making out. You climbing on top of him so you could finally ride that dick.

Chris held onto your hips, forcing you down onto him and holding you there so you had to feel him as deep as he could go. “Ah fuck, Babe,” Chris groaned, eyes squeezing shut.

“Nuh uh, look at me when I fuck you,” you mocked him.

Chris smacked your ass at that. “Little fucking smart ass.” Keeping his grip on it after.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out, making you yell as he sat up. Grabbing your hair so he could smash his lips into yours. Making you move just right.

You started kissing on his neck. Not able to help yourself. Wanting to get him off like he’d done for you.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

As if that’s not your goal.

“Fuck, Babe, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in you if you- shit, Baby.” You kind of loved how desperate he sounded. Only made you wanna work harder.

“Do it,” you breathed into his ear. “Cum in me, Daddy. I want you to.”

That’s when Chris slammed down down so he could fill you up. The feeling of him loading inside of you only made you do the same letting out little whines before smashing his lips into yours again.

After a few minutes, Chris laid down on his back, taking you with him. Dick softening inside of you. Neither of you making any moves to pull him out.

Oh yeah you couldn’t wait to spend all night finding out how nasty he could be. Honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend Halloween.

#fics by afbh #chris evans smut #chris evans x black women #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x famous reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans x black female reader

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thevulturesquadron · 8 days

Note

Hello! 👋 Could you list some of the best comic books that explore the Rogue/ Magneto relationship?

Hey there!!! 👩‍🚀 Oh gosh! With pleasure! I might be a bit rusty because I haven’t gone through older Marvel comic books in a while and also because I am not up to date with the recent years of X-Men comics BUT there are still a couple of issues that are very dear to me when it comes to Rogue & Magneto, so happy to share:

It all started in the year 1981:

1. Uncanny X-Men #269 ; Uncanny X-Men #274 & Uncanny X-Men #275 (1981, Written by Chris Claremont) [The story is pretty self-contained to these 3 issues and it all starts with Rogue realising that her Ms. Marvel powers are gone and Carol Danvers somehow has her own body now. (a very simplified context of what was going on in that era with the X-Men) I absolutely love Rogue in these issues. She has sass and personality, and she still carries a lot of her energy from the 80s.]

2. X -Men Volume 2 (Issues #1 - #3) - (1991, Chris Claremont) [They meet again after the events in the Savage Land, now on opposite sides.]

3. Magneto Rex: Issues #1- #3 - (1999, Joe Pruett) [This miniseries… is a bit weird and needs some context. It’s at a time where Marvel really wanted to have Magneto return to his evil ways and be a villain for the X-Men (regardless if it made sense or not). Not one of my favourites and generally can live without but it’s a ‘next stop’ in their interactions, so adding it to the list.]

4. Then we have X-Men Legacy! ( 2008, Mike Carey) [This one is a chonker, and to make things worse it is connected with other series running at the same time. It has pieces of Rogue and Magneto through the entire run but all in all, the story sees them reunite under the same team in Utopia (starting with Legacy #231). The full run of Legacy can be difficult to follow up on but if you have the time, it’s really worth it. It’s also the first story in YEARS where Rogue is allowed to shine and do her own thing. If you need a more detailed list of what issues are really worth reading, in what order and what is happening in between them let me know and will be happy to write down a breakdown!]

5. Memorable mentions in the main series: There are quite a few tiny bits about them in the comic books but here’s a list of issues that give more context to how they interact and how they feel about each other:

a. Marvel Fanfare #33 - (1982, Chris Claremont. I love Rogue in this one and it’s such a nice example of what a good and powerful duo they can make. Something that is later explored in Legacy as well. b. Legacy #223 (during Rogue’s journey to control her powers) we have a glimpse of how she remembers and sees Magneto’s presence in her life. c. Magneto #10 (2014, Cullen Bunn) - Similarly, a glimpse into Magneto’s mind on how he remembers Rogue and the impact their connection in the Savage Land had on him. d. Mr & Mrs X #6 (2019) - there is a page between Rogue and Magneto where, in all that mess, at least Magneto’s honest feelings for her and his care for her happiness shine through.

And last but not least, Age of Apocalypse. [This is a completely separate timeline that the comic books liked to visit from time to time. In this universe Rogue and Magneto are pretty much in love and married but… it’s a very tragic universe. Original series started in 1995; then it got revisited in 2005 and again in 2015… I think? The series… is far from perfect, there are so many things that can be described as unhinged (dialogue included) but, there is so much love for these two characters and I absolutely recommend it if you are ok with investing some time into reading it, and most of all if you are ready for a real heart break (again and again).]

Hope this helps! Happy to go into more details or put aside a cleaner list if interested! 💜

There are a couple other mentions in the comics so in case I missed something important I will summon one of the gods of endless knowledge when it comes to X-Men to correct or add to the list: @maedelin

#rogue #magneto #erik lehnsherr #x men #anna marie #rogneto #rogueneto #mavel #comics!!!#yes!#hope the list doesn't look like a mess #anna marie adler #textpost

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esta-elavaris · 20 days

Note

7 and 29!

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I'm a walking stereotype and I end up happy with very little of what I ever write. Which I think all in all is a good thing because it stops me from getting complacent. Like, I think I can string an entertaining story together but I don't think my writing is that sort of prose where you stop and go "oh shit those WORDS tho", y'know? Like you might laugh, you might cry, but there aren't gonna be some majorly profound sentences that you want tattooed on you.

I was pretty proud of this chapter of CTW, though (spoilers ahead!) just because it was such a bastard of a scene to tackle because of the sheer emotion, and I think I managed it in the end. Plus we need more men openly sobbing in fiction.

All this time. When they'd fallen for one another, when they'd planned together, when they'd married. She'd known. She'd carried that burden, and she'd carried it alone. What he hated most was that he could see why she had not told him - for he would have stopped her. If he could go back now and redo it, he would do everything in his power to keep her away. He'd have locked her in their house at Port Royal before departing, and taken his chances out here alone. If he perished as fated, he'd at least do so knowing that she was alive.

But she was not. She's gone. His mind kept repeating it to him, over and over until the sobs that wracked him strained his muscles and the few that weren't so harsh that they were completely silent sounded hoarse and pained even to his own ear - more strained gasps for air than cries. It was wrong. No matter how much his mind stabbed at him with the fact, he could not accept it. The bed in the corner was topped with a red blanket that resembled the colour of her hair much too closely for comfort, and through his blurred vision he kept on thinking it was her. It made no sense, but it made more sense than her being gone. And it was absurd - for he was a soldier. He knew loss. But he'd never known loss like this.

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Listen, I'm not a Solas gal as far as Dragon Age goes, but I would give my left arm for this fic to be finished.

Like I know it's not the same as a prequel/sequel, but I can't remember a finished fic I've read where I felt like the author didn't do a stellar job in wrapping it all up to the point where I thought there was another story's worth of stuff to be said! The talent out there is fckn astounding.

Thank you!! And I'm sorry it took me so long to reply to this - these were tough questions 🫠💜

Ask game.

#asks #ask game

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beefrobeefcal · 9 months

Note

Ok ok ok… we’ve seen defensive mouse when someone hits on her and talks down on Frankie but what about if someone tried to flirt with Frankie? What would she do? What would Frankie do🤷🏻‍♀️

Oh HOW I LOVE THIS! How would our Mouse react? Thank you, Nonnie, for planting that THOT.

Our fav chubby guy may have a thing or two to learn, but thankfully, he's ready and willing to put in the work.

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3----------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Just Desserts

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader (Mouse!)

Summary: A novel and sweet apology.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,163

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, swearing, name calling, Nasty Lady, Body Insecurity, Oral (F receiving), Licking things off things, food in bed, big mess, coming in pants

Author's Notes: Our Mouse is ready to fight anyone who disrespects her Frankie. But is he willing to do the same? Please suspend your disbelief for a moment and allow confectionary sweets to roam places it never should in the real world.

Not proofed. Enjoy!

__________________________

You’d taken Elise for dinner after work to say thank your for driving you all week – your car was in the shop waiting for a new bumper after being hit in a parking lot. Frankie had asked if you wanted to meet at the bar before heading home, so Elise dropped you off after dinner.

“Hey honey, what’re you doin’ sitting here all alone?”, a woman asked Frankie as she sat down next to him, teasing her straw with her teeth.

Frankie looked around to see who she was talking to, assuming it was one of the other men sitting along the bar. He’d gone to his favourite burger joint for dinner prior to the bar and had his fill. He didn’t think anyone would approach him given his big, full tummy was now pressing up against the bar.

When her gaze kept at him, he raised his eyebrows and took a drink of his beer. She was curvy and wore a short, emerald green dress with a plunging neckline that amplified her ample chest and thick thighs. Frankie couldn’t deny that she was attractive, but he wasn’t interested.

“I, uh… I’m just waiting for someone.”, he said politely, his fingers playing with the coaster under his drink.

“You want company while you wait, honey?” She leaned in and put a hand on his knee.

“I… whoa… that’s… uh… I’m good. I’m actually waiting for my girl-FRIEND!”, Frankie said, squeaking the last word as her hand moved dangerously up his thigh.

He gently gripped her wrist and place it on the bar, giving her a nevous grin.

“No need to be shy, honey. I know what a big guy like you wants from a woman, you just gotta ask.”, she crooned with a wink, her voice dripping with sex.

Frankie’s eyes darted around, and he politely said with a nod, “No thanks. I’m good.”

You arrived at the bar and walked in, immediately seeing a beautiful woman talking with Frankie. While you couldn’t hear what was being said by the woman, you knew what was going on based on both of their body languages as you walked up to the bar. She was gorgeous and you were intimidated.

You approached Frankie and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He put his arm around your waist and held you firm, and you looked at the woman and narrowed your eyes at her while she smiled back at you.

“Thank you for keeping my seat warm.”, you said curtly, and nodded for her to move.

“And I thought you were here to take our order. My mistake.”, the woman hissed with a faux-smile, then looked at Frankie, and put a hand on his thigh. “Come find me if you need another seat warmed, big guy.”

Seeing her hand touch him made you take a step towards her and Frankie stood up quickly, seeing where this was going, and hand on your shoulder, pulling you back gently.

You snarled at her, “Touch him again and I’ll break your fing…”

“Oh honey, I’d love to see a little thing like you try it.”, the woman spat back as she stood up, then looked up at Frankie who was standing behind you. “Come on, handsome, you don’t wanna be stuck being a dog catcher. Drop the little bitch and we’ll find somewhere private.”

“Oh, fuck you!”, you snapped, balling up your fist.

Frankie grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back. “Mouse! Come on!”

“Mouse? More like a fucking rat.”, she laughed. She looked to Frankie and said in a sarcastic tone. “Good luck with your rodent problem.”

Your eyes widened as your jaw clenched. You could feel your fists tighten as the woman winked at you and got up from her seat. You could feel your blood boiling in your veins while Frankie kept his grip on you tight; he kissed your head and shushed you.

You watched as the woman sauntered away, feeling uneasy with her words and immediately began to compare yourself to her, making yourself angrier.

“Calm down, Mouse.”, he said softly, kissing your cheek, but your eyes didn’t leave the direction of the woman.

You’re breaths were shallow and short from the rage you felt and Frankie kept his breathing even and calm, trying to get you to follow. He finally let you go when he was satisfied that you had calmed down, and you both sat at the bar. He reached out and put a hand on the small of your back, but you shook him off. Before he could say anything, you spoke in a monotone voice.

“Your new friend was… something. So glad you know how to come to my defense, Frank.”, you sneered through gritted teeth, your eyes remained focused on the bar counter in front of you.

“Mouse,”, Frankie spoke with a sigh, not wanting to dwell on it. “I was just waiting for you, and she showed up. You got here a minute after she sat down. Okay? I told her I wasn’t interested, and I was waiting for you.”

You only hummed in response and raised your eyebrows, and he took it as your cue that this wouldn’t be the end of it.

He took a deep breath before saying as calmly as possible, “Why don’t we head home. I think I’m about done here.”

“Yeah, sure thing. Frank.”, you said in that same tone. He motioned to the bartender for his bill.

The car ride home was silent, minus the sounds of the radio. Just as Frankie turned the truck into your neighbourhood, you finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you say anything to her? Tell her to fuck off and get her hands off you. Or maybe fuck her up for calling me a rat!”, you spoke harshly..

“I’m not fighting with you, baby.”, Frankie responded calmly.

“I’m not trying to fight. I’m asking you a perfectly simple question. You let her rub your thigh and call me a fucking rat. You did dick fuck all and you said jack shit about any of it, you fucking coward.”, you said in a nasty tone.

“Mouse! Come on, knock it off!”, he barked back, then took a deep breath and said quieter, “It’s over. Please, let’s just get home and forget it ever happened.”

“Fuck you, Frank.”, you spat.

“Grow the fuck up, Mouse.”, he yelled back at you.

The hot, frustrated tears were burning your eyes and you didn’t trust your voice to no betray you. He didn’t get it. He could have done anything other than sit there. But he didn’t, and it left you wondering if there was maybe a reason why he didn’t. You felt Frankie look over at you a few times, and you decided to just ask the question that was burning a hole in your brain.

“Do you want me to look like that?”, you asked fighting with your voice to not crack and give away how much this was hurting you, fidgeting with the zipper on your purse.

“Do I… what?”, he groaned, shaking his head. “Mouse… don’t do this.”

“How can I not? She was gorgeous!”, you snapped, “Did you see her tits? Of course, you fucking did. Is that why you didn’t say anything?”

“Mouse! I said knock it off!”, he yelled angrily at you as put the truck in park in your driveway and pulled the keys out of the ignition. “I’m not fucking doing this with you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth and he saw you flinch, he regretted it. He sighed and watched you get out of the truck and slam the door with tears on your face, and it hit him why you were upset; you’d spent a lot of energy lately reminding him that he was attractive and how much you loved him, even going so far as to almost get in a fight with someone at your work event because a guy insulted him. And tonight, he essentially let a random woman insult you and said nothing in your defense. And now, he’d hurt you, his beautiful, feisty, sexy Mouse.

He quickly followed you into the house, trying to catch you, but was only able to watch as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom, slamming the door. Once he heard the shower running, he sighed and sat on the couch. He felt like an idiot, an asshole; he;d become one of those guys who just sat back and watched instead of intervening. He debated on going in and talking to you, trying to figure out how he could fix this, but decided he would need a snack to get in the right head space. Opening the fridge, he saw a something that gave him an idea.

Once showered, you quickly dried off and put on some baggy lounge clothes. Now that your anger was pretty well gone, you were left feeling like an idiot from you taking it out on Frankie. You changed into your sweatshirt and sweatpants, then walked into your bedroom and saw Frankie sitting on your bed with a bottle of chocolate sauce in his hand.

“What the fuck is this?”, you groaned, motioning towards him on the bed.

“I’m sorry.”, he said, trying to give you his best big puppy eyes.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now, Frankie.”, you sighed, rubbing your face.

At least it’s back to Frankie. He thought to himself, this giving him the courage to continue.

“I am sorry. I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m not on your side, and I know tonight, I fucked up.”, he spoke softly, getting up from the bed and stepping cautiously towards you.

While you didn’t tell him to stop or push him back, you didn’t give him any sign that he was welcome either.

“I guess I figured you had it handled and didn’t need to say anything... and I know I was wrong. I'm so sorry, baby.”

He reached out and took your hand in his, fully expecting you to rip it back, but you didn’t. He took a step closer to you gently pulled you into a hug, and you eventually hugged him back, not being able to resist him any longer.

“What’s with the chocolate sauce?”, you asked into his chest.

“Wanted dessert and I was wondering if you could help me with that.”, he said in a low voice. “Got some chocolate sauce and nothing to put it on… any ideas?”

“Frankie…”, you sighed and pulled back, trying to suppress a smile.

“What?”, he asked with a grin.

“I… I love you… so much… I just feel kinda… not great… right now…”, you said, grimacing and looking up at him.

“How about then you let me show you how sorry I am and what a fucking smoke show you really are. Then dessert.”, he said in a husky voice as le leaned down and kissed you.

He took the small moan you gave as a ‘yes’, and back you to the bed, laying you down.

He knelt at the end of the bed and picked up your foot, pushing your sweatpants up to expose your ankle. He kissed it, placing it on his shoulder, and began to rub his hand over your clothed leg towards your centre.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl… love how your feel in my hands… body was made for me, Mouse…”, he murmured while maintaining eye contact with you.

You couldn’t help but lay back and be mesmerized by touch. The affection he was handling you with was playing with your heart strings in the best way.

His hands were on your waist, and he raised his eyebrows at you to ask for your approval to remove your pants. You nodded and with one quick movement, your sweatpants were tossed over his shoulder, quickly followed by your panties. He continued to run his hands over your legs, again starting at your ankles then working his way back up, slowly and with the intention to show how much he appreciated you.

He leaned forward between your legs and moved his hands up your torso under your sweatshirt. He gently tugged the shirt over your head and threw it to join your other clothes on the floor.

Laying naked before him while he remained fully clothed had you feeling vulnerable, and you went to cover yourself.

“Look at me, princess. Don’t need to cover anything. Look what you do to me.”, he murmured with a grin as he palmed the bulge in his pants.

His mouth came down on your mouth and he kissed you deeply. He pulled his mouth away and when you moved to trying and recapture his lips with a whine, he hushed you and kissed your jaw, then your neck while he palmed one of your tits with his big hand. He moved down further and captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing it between his lips, eliciting a moan from you while arching your back into his touch.

“Too fucking good for me… love you so much”, he murmured as he sat up, looking over your body.

“Frankie…”, you whimpered and reached out for him to come back. “Please…”

“I know, princess. I know…”, he cooed, grabbing the chocolate sauce bottle. “You look so fucking tasty, baby.”

Seeing the bottle, your eyes shot open wide. “Frankie! No!”

With a smirk, he opened the bottle and squeezed the contents out on to your torso, and you gasped at the cold substance hitting your skin.

“Jesus Christ! The bedding!”, you yelped, your hands unintentionally touched the sticky sauce.

He threw the empty bottle on the floor and his mouth was on you, sucking and licking, starting with your neck, and you no longer gave a shit about the bedding and the mess he had made on it.

He pulled his chocolate-covered face up to look at you with a wide grin and he pressed his tongue on your sternum, then licked up between your tits and you let out a low whine.

“Look so fucking good, baby… laid out, ready for me to eat you… fucking delicious”, he growled, taking your tit into his mouth again and sucking hard, his tongue flicking your nipple. You keened and your hips bucked up against him.

He moved down to your stomach and began licking the chocolate sauce that had pooled in your belly button.

“Fucking gorgeous… so fucking tasty… perfect for me…”, he mouthed against your toned stomach.

His satisfied groans and grunts sounded deliciously obscene to you; your dripping cunt throbbed and clenched on nothing. Your sticky hands went to his hair, and you panted and moaned. You had no idea that this could be as erotic as it was.

“Frankie… baby…”, you whined. “Please… oh fuck...”

He sat up and took his now chocolate-coated shirt off. You sat up with him and palmed his belly, leaving sticky handprints on him. Your hands went to his belt, but he stopped you.

He shook his head with a grin and guided you back down. “Dessert first.”

He pressed his large body on you and began kissing, licking and nipping his way back down your torso, dragging himself over you, until his mouth is breathing right on your mound. He stops and grins again. “I fuckin’ love you. No one hold a candle to you, princess. Tell me what I can do to prove that to you, baby. Tell me while I get fatter on your pussy for the rest of the night.”

Before you could answer, he licked up your slit, then began to fuck you with his tongue.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!”, you cried out, your hands going to his hair again. “I… oh fuck… I love you… please…“

Frankie replaced his tongue with his finger and kept the pace. He brought his head up to look at you.

“Look at me, princess.”, he coaxed. When you didn’t comply, he said a little firmer, “Come on, princess… look at me, baby… I asked you a question.”

“Please… don’t stop…. don’t stop…”, you panted. You were already close from how wound up you were from Frankie’s attention to your body, and you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Tell me what I can do to prove I don’t want anyone else… tell me, princess…tell how I can say sorry...”, he said in a deep voice before l putting his mouth on your clit and flicking it with his tongue.

You cried out and panted, your orgasm forcing its way through you, and you moaned, “Fuck… I just… need you… need you… fuck, Frankie…”

He hummed and grunted into your pussy, continuing to finger fuck you and assault your clit through your orgasm, pushing you to talk.

You cried out and writhed, making Frankie hold your hips in place. He kept up his pace and felt your walls start to flutter. He hummed as he sucked and fucked you.

“Frankie… please!... it’s … it’s too much…”, you cried out.

He shook his head then lifted it, “Tell me, princess… please baby.”, he moaned, his own hips trying to grind into the mattress to alleviate his own arousal.

“Fran-oh my god… please! Frankie!... want you to… to get angry… fight for me…”, you whined.

“Fuck… princess… yeah… keep talking…”, he grunted into your pussy, finally finding a satisfying angle to grind his cock into on the bed.

Then he added another finger, and you pulled on his hair.

“Want you… t-to be… fuck, oh god!... be jealous… mark me… make me yours… make it hurt!”, you cried out, then screamed as you came a second time, your cunt clamping down on his fingers and gushing onto his fingers and chin, the onto the bed.

Frankie grunted and panted into your pussy a few more times as his movements slowed.

You both laid on the bed in your sticky mess, panting; you on your back, knees open, and Frankie on his stomach, face first in your pussy.

“Frankie?”, you spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Hmmm?”, he responded, getting up on his elbows to look at you.

“You haven’t come up here yet and fucked me.”

He groaned, and crawled up next to you and kissed you gently. You tasted a bizarrely erotic mix of yourself and chocolate on his tongue.

He pulled back just a bit and whispered with a laugh. “I came in my fucking pants.”

“Oh… that’s… new….”, you said with eyebrows raise, trying to keep from laughing.

It didn’t work as you both fell into a fit of giggles and kisses.

“Can we clean this up tomorrow? Sleep in the guest room tonight?”, you whispered after your giggles had died down.

He chuckled, “Yup… this is a tomorrow problem. I’ll be better prepared for next time.”

“Next time?”, you asked.

“Yeah. The next time I fuck up and feel like coming in my pants.”

You both laughed and headed for the shower.

__________________________

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