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asuyaka · 4 months

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"How do the monster trio act around (and eventually get with) their crush?"

☆ - Monkey D. Luffy, Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro x M! reader.

♡ - guys m'sososososo insane ab these three m'literally gunna explode | also !! jus cus reqs ar gunna be closed, doesn't mean m'won't be uploadin !! jus not takin reqs f'the time bein (❁´◡`❁)

— MONKEY D. LUFFY.

He's so clingy around you, more than he is with anyone else.

Always, always, shares his food with you. Especially if you were busy training before dinner.

He's always around you no matter what. Oh? You're trying to help Sanji cook? He's on the floor watching you. Want to go buy supplies for Nami? He's clung onto your back like a Koala. Want to sleep due to a long day? He's right there in your bed with you.

He's so dorky about it too! Wants to spend every waking moment with you but doesn't know that he has a crush on you, just always wants ta be around you!

He's so jealous without even knowing it. What are you doing hanging out with Usopp when he's right here??

"[Name]..." Luffy groaned, clinging to your back with a sad expression on his face. He had his limbs wrapped around your torso and his head between your neck. "You aren't going to talk with Usopp again, are you?"

You stop walking, staring at him through the corner of your eyes. "Yes? I thought you and Usopp were best buddies, what happened?"

Luffy groans louder, causing Nami to yell at him to shut up from her room. "Nooooo, stay here and talk with meeeeeeee!" He wraps his arms around you three times (thanks to his devil fruit) and starts to shake your body around.

"Luffy— I can't even move if you don't let go of me!"

Luffy looks at you with puppy dog eyes. "Why hang out with Usopp when I'm right here?! I should be the only one you have eyes for..." He pouts as he presses his cheek against yours.

Your body flushes. Did... did he realize what he just said?

"Luffy, you can't say things like that if you don't know what they mean..." You huff, trying not to look too deep into what he could've meant by that. Luffy says things he doesn't mean, so you don't want to get your hopes up.

That only seems to coerce Luffy into whining. "I do know what it means! I said it, dummy! Stupid!! You should be mine, not Usopp's! I'm cooler and better and bigger and amazinger and uhm, you're mine because I say so!!"

Amazinger...?

You can't help the giggle that comes out of you, trying to force yourself to calm down while Luffy shakes you repeatedly. "[Name] c'mon, you'll be mine, right? Not Usopp! Cause, he can't cook and he's a sniper!"

"What does him being a sniper have to do with anything? And besides, you can't cook either Luffy."

Luffy blanks for a split second before going back to what he was doing. "I dunno. Doesn't matter! C'monnnnn, [Name], you're bullying meeeeeeeee!"

You hold onto Luffy's arm with a laugh, pressing your cheeks together as a form of affection. "Yes, Luffy, I'll be yours."

Luffy stares at you with surprise before turning back to his usual happy-go-lucky self. "Yippie!! Now, we can do all the things boyfriends do! Like go on dates, and eat together, and sleep together, and—"

As he continues to list off all the things he thinks boyfriends do, you can't help but chuckle.

Not like you two weren't doing that before his confession.

— VINSMOKE SANJI.

(inspired by @/sanjisboyfie 's oneshot ab this tragic little adorable man !! :3)

It took so long for Sanji to realize he liked you because he's not used to being attracted to men.

Thought that every time you complimented his cooking and his heart swelled up, it was just the flu. Nothing interesting or important.

Then, he started noticing how pretty your features were when you were eating, or how embarrassed he gets whenever it's just you and him in the kitchen.

When he realizes he does like you, his mind utterly falters, because... why would you like him back?

Even though there are lingering fears in his heart, he always tries his best to please you. Even if it means blushing like a moron whenever you address him directly.

"[Name]! I uhm, made this for you since you were... hurt, during our last fight." Sanji muttered nervously, averting his eyes as he held out a plate of food. Something small and easy to digest, but a food you like.

You smile warmly as you take the plate from his hands, your fingers brushing slightly as Sanji's face flusters even more. "This looks amazing! Thanks, Sanji. Do you want to sit with me? The seas are calm tonight."

Sanji pauses as he looks at you. His cigarette is inches away from falling out of his mouth and his face dazes.

"Sanij? You okay? You can say no, I won't be mad. It's not even your shift yet and everyone needs sleep." You say with an airy smile as you turn your attention to the food.

Sanji was right (like he was most of the time when it came to you and food), after the 'Big Mom incident' you were quite injured (and hungry). Seeing all the... talking food, didn't do much to raise your appetite.

There's a soft thud right beside you, long black legs resting a safe distance away from yours. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, even if Sanji's cheeks are flushed and he's nervously playing with his thumbs.

"Wowww, this is really good Sanji!" You say happily, flashing Sanji a warm smile as you return to eating the food so gracefully given to you. Oblivious to the man beside you whose face looks so red it rivals Luffy's signature vest.

Sanji looks at you with nothing sort of affection. It's not the same as when Nami or Robin compliment him, you just saying his name is enough to make him flustered, but being this close to you alone might send him into cardiac arrest.

"[Name]...?" His voice is quiet, staring at you with expectant eyes.

You pause eating, covering your mouth, and cocking your head in confusion.

"This uhm... might be a weird question, but do you um,, l-like anybody?" He becomes more flushed with every word that comes out of his mouth.

The second you take too long to answer he starts to curse himself out for even sitting down. Everything was going so well until he opened his mouth—

"Yes, I do. What, trying to feel out if I'm single?" You tease with a light chuckle, picking up the last bit of food and holding it out expectantly. "You want some?"

Sanji can't say no to you. Even if he tries his hardest, his body will not let him say no, not to an indirect kiss; especially when you're offering. Even if you might not see it in the same light he does.

He opens his mouth and lets you place the spoon in his mouth as your eyes turn into crescents. "See? Does it taste good?"

God— Sanji feels like he's going to explode.

He nods, begging himself to calm down before his mind starts to run.

"Oh," You say suddenly, "—that was an indirect kiss, wasn't it?" You lin hum thoughtfully and place the plate beside you, letting out a soft yawn as you stretch. "You sure you don't need to—"

"I am so in love with you."

"...pardon?"

Sanji stands up immediately, his face red. "Nothing!! I'm sorry, I'm really sleepy now so I'll—"

"Sanji, what did you say?" You ask carefully, holding onto his hand to try and stop him from running away.

"It's nothing, [Name], please just let me—"

"Sanji." Your voice comes off soft, relaxing your body so you come off as gentle and not hostile. "Just say it, one more time for me, okay?"

Sanji could feel his entire body burning up just from holding hands, more so from him getting caught blurting out his feelings again. He stares at the floor of the Sunny, too ashamed to look you in the eyes. "I... I'm in love with you? I'm sorry if you don't like me back, I didn't mean it I swear!"

"Sanji, what makes you think I don't like you back? Better question, what makes you think I didn't know?" You cock your head playfully, pulling him gently so he's sitting again.

"...what?"

You chuckle. "I've heard all the other embarrassing times you've confessed your feelings, it's just that the crew was around and I didn't want to put you on the spot. I've liked you since we met on the Baratie, silly."

Sanji's eyes widen as his mouth falls agape. You've liked him... for two years?!

"Sanji...?" You move up to straddle him, your hands resting on his cheeks. "Can I... kiss you?"

Sanji nods so fast he thinks his head might fall off.

You smile, leaning forward to press your lips together. Sanji's body physically relaxes as he practically melts into you, his face redder than blood.

It takes all his willpower and the need to breathe for him to finally pull away from you. His face is flushed and his breathing is heavy, staring at you like you're the only man in the world— like you're the prettiest thing in the world.

You giggle, pressing your heart onto his chest. "I love you so much."

Zoning back into reality, he carefully places his arms around your waist. "I love you too, so so much [Name],"

— RORONOA ZORO.

Zoro isn't good at expressing his emotions, everyone knows that.

So, when he figures out he might have a romantic attraction to you, he's confused about what to do. Considers asking Nami about it, but goes with Robin since Nami is... an interesting woman!

Robin tells him to be upfront with his feelings, or subtly tell the person.

He's a naturally mature person, having a crush on his crewmate doesn't change that by any means.

Even if he is cold to everyone, if you two are alone on the deck of the Sunny, he lets you sleep with him or touch his swords.

Just having you around is enough to calm him down. Seeing as his biggest love language is quality time and you enjoy talking about the randomest things around him, it makes his heart flutter whenever you act like he's the only person in the world who you care about.

"Mhm! And did you know that otters hold hands when they're asleep?" You point to an otter in the marine life book Zoro got you during your last pit stop.

Zoro shakes his head, his arms crossed with a small, barely noticeable amused smile on his face.

"Yeah! It's so they don't drift off when they're asleep. Not sure anyone knows why, but I like to think it's because they don't want to lose each other. After all, they're social animals! Oh! They also like to cuddle a lot—"

"Kind of like me and you, no?" Zoro interrupts with a playful aura, causing your train of thought to stop, face flushing as you stare at his smug expression.

"Um, y-yes! Like... like me, and you..." Your voice progressively gets smaller under Zoro's gaze. He moves closer, causing you to move your arms back, resting on your palms. "Zoro?"

"Keep telling me about the otters, don't worry," He replies coyly, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you into his lap.

Your face flushes, stuttering over your words as you nod. Shakily grabbing the book to bring it closer. Carefully picking your words, you begin speaking again. "They might also, uhm, hold hands because they don't have very thick fur. It could be to share body heat and keep warm, since they get cold easily."

"What if I said we were otters?" Zoro asks from behind you, resting his chin on your head.

"Ah, then we'd have to hold hands when we sleep!" Quickly realizing what you said, you try to reel it back in. "O-of course, only if you want to! I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I know how much you like your personal space so—"

"You're in my personal space and it doesn't look like I mind very much, does it, [Name]?"

Twiddling your thumbs meekly, you shake your head no. Zoro laughs and takes one of your hands, putting it above his. The size difference is obvious, your fingers stop just below his second knuckle. Something about that causes a riot in your brain, especially when Zoro squeezes them together.

"Okay, another question," Zoro starts, moving the intertwined hands to your lap. "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend?"

You turn around immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. He isn't... joking, is he? Zoro doesn't normally joke about things (unless he's with Sanji), so it wouldn't make sense for him to joke about this. Especially when it's something so serious.

"Hm? What's your answer, pretty boy?"

You've liked Zoro ever since he sat down and listened to you talk about the different kinds of fishmen after the ordeal with Arlong. Zoro has never expressed romantic attraction to anybody, not even to the bountiful amounts of women who've expressed attraction to him.

Your mind blanks, and you must've been staring at him for too long because the smallest bit of worry falls on his face. "You okay? I'm not forcing you, you know? Saying no is okay."

Saying... no? To a man that looks like he was crafted by Zeus himself? Hell no! "No! I-I mean, yes, I mean—"

"Take your time pretty boy, I'm not going anywhere."

He's adjusted your position to where you're facing each other, hands still intertwined as he looks at you with a soft (?) expression. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to make eye contact with him.

You've never looked at his this close before. Sure, you two have cuddled to sleep on countless nights, but then you were always faced away from each other.

He has long eyelashes. Not extremely long, but longer than you thought they were. Even if his eyes are black, you've noticed they soften whenever he looks at you, it makes him pretty.

Meekly, you nod. Holding your head down to try and hide your embarrassment. Before you can, though, Zoro stops you by lifting your chin up with his finger. "You can use words, can't you?"

It should sound condescending, the way he's talking to you, but it sounds more encouraging than anything. Even if there might be light teases mixed with his words.

"Yes, I, I would want to be your uhm... your boyfriend."

Zoro grins at that, pressing a quick kiss on your lips and twisting you around, pulling you closer so the back of your head is between his boobs pecs. "Love you, pretty boy."

"I-I love you too, Zoro," You force out, even if it feels like you're overheating due to the blood rushing to your cheek and... other places, as well as Zoro's added body heat.

You two truly were like otters.

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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan.

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”

You wanted to take his finger and break it.

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.”

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!”

“No! Fuck– Get off me!”

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.

“Is that all, Sergeant?”

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.”

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months

Text

I am actually so mad. I was working on this and for some reason it didn't save correctly and ended up posting a blank draft while deleting the stuff I had already written! I'm so sorry it took so long, @tiaramarijadhkxdyi755, but here it is! i hope this is close to what you wanted, because i wasn't sure how to go about it 🙈

taglist - @kabloswrld

patience with the Straw Hats

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - mean/careless/neglectful Straw Hats, im sorry, i changed Luffy's and Usopp's because I don't imagine them ever screaming at or getting angry with their s/o 💕

ZORO

Zoro has a short fuse, and that's common knowledge. Everyone knows just how grumpy and aggressive he can be after a hard fight or a difficult day training. He's snapped at everyone more than once, but you seem to take the brunt of it since you're the closest to him, and today was no different.

"For fucks sake just leave me alone!" Zoro could be heard yelling at you all throughout the Sunny. "You're too damn clingy and I don't need your help right now!" He stormed off.

You stood there in shock, having just asked him if he was okay, and taken aback by the response you had gotten. It wasn't unusual for him to be angry, but he was really upset today for some reason. You decided to give him space, but you had to admit you weren't really hurt or upset. More so disappointed that he had once again pushed you away.

"Zoro-"

"What?!" He snapped, glaring at you as you came up into the crow's nest with some food. "I'm not hungry, just leave."

"But-" You started, until he did something unexpected.

He smacked the food out of your hands, sending it all over your face. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back a bit, stunned.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you apologised, giving him a soft smile, "I'll have food in the room once you're ready to eat."

You waited a long time until Zoro finally entered your shared room, looking embarrassed and guilty about his outbursts today. He didn't say anything as he crossed the room and sat down beside you, but when he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips you knew he was apologising.

"It's okay," you smiled gently, "I'm not upset. Just disappointed that you won't let me help you."

"I know I know," he admitted. "I'll work on it, I promise."

"What made you so angry anyway?" You squeezed his hand.

He sighed, "You almost got hurt in our last fight because I was distracted. It's been haunting me, and I just don't want it to happen again. I snapped because I wanted to train harder instead of resting or eating, so I can properly protect you."

You smiled at him again, "But you always do, that was not your fault babe."

He was so grateful to have such a patient, understanding and loving girlfriend.

SANJI

Sanji usually never snapped at or yelled at you. He didn't ever want to, and never had any reason to. He was sweet, loving and doting just like you were, but unlike you he did have his days where he went against his promise to never lash out at you or hurt you in any way. Today was one of those days. Usopp had pulled him away from some girls who were fawning over him, and he was irritated.

"Why did you do that?" He glared at the sniper. "I was having fun."

"You also have a girlfriend," Usopp reminded him, gesturing towards you. He was nervous now, because Sanji looked pissed off.

"So?" The cook scowled. "I can appreciate and talk to other women without cheating on her!" He spoke like you weren't right next to him. "Right, (Name)?"

"Right," you smiled, a bit disappointed but not showing it.

Then he was off, returning to those women to apologise and your crew turned to you, looking at you quizzically. Nami set her hand on your arm reassuringly.

"It's okay," you told them with a smile, "It doesn't bother me."

Sanji then returned, but was quick to notice the disappointed look you had on your face. He was about to ask but you shook your head and kissed his cheek, continuing your exploration of the island.

"Okay what's your problem?" He suddenly asked, annoyed, when you looked disappointed at another interaction between him and a pretty woman.

Your eyes widened, "I'm not-"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not stupid, (Name). You're obviously hiding the fact that you want to control my every move and stop me from ever talking to other women again."

That claim was so preposterous, you frowned, "I wouldn't-"

He quickly realised what he had said and his eyes widened, "No no no, my love I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said, I-I-" He fumbled for an excuse but sighed when he didn't have any. "I'm sorry, my love. Let me make it up to you, with your favourite dinner."

"Deal."

LUFFY

In all honesty, I don't see Luffy getting angry with or yelling at you. I think he's more of the neglectful type, when faced with certain situations like facing Boa Hancock out on the sea. She claimed she didn't know you guys would be there, but you're pretty sure she was stalking his movements. Luffy wouldn't listen though.

"It's okay, (Name)!" He replied cheerily when you voiced your concerns, "Hammock's really nice! And she has yummy food!"

And then he was off, leaving you to shake your head and sigh. You retired to your shared room, hoping that Luffy would eventually realise her intentions and come back.

He never did, and after a few hours you were starting to get lonely. So you ventured out to find him, only to see him giving her a tour of the Sunny.

"Luffy!" You called, but frowned when he seemingly ignored you as Hancock said something to him.

That was pretty much how the day went. You were ignored entirely by your boyfriend, simply because Hancock wouldn't let him pay attention to you. But you were disappointed in him too, for not telling her that you were dating and for not coming to spend time with you on his own.

When the day ended and Hancock retreated to her ship, bidding Luffy goodbye, the captain finally made his way to you. You weren't upset or sad, but Luffy could see on your face that you weren't feeling anything good.

"Are you alright, (Name)?" He questioned, hugging you.

"I'm disappointed, Luffy," you told him, but hugged him back and smiled anyway, happy to have him back.

"Disappointed?" He frowned. "Why?"

You sighed, "You didn't make any effort to come and see me for even a few minutes today. You spent the whole day with her. I'm not upset, because she helped you a lot, but I am disappointed that you ignored me."

He hugged you even tighter, "I'm sorry, (Name), really. We can spend the whole day together tomorrow!"

You smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that's what you guys did everyday when Boa wasn't around.

USOPP

Usopp is another Straw Hat that I don't see getting angry or yelling easily. He's very patient with you, and he's understanding. He also doesn't have any aggravating circumstances, but the one thing he can be that disappoints you sometimes is careless. He can be very careless when it comes to what he says or does, because he usually acts on emotion.

And today, it seemed, he was missing his old crush Kaya. Because while you were shopping for clothes on one store, seeking to replace your torn and burnt ones, he kept yapping on about how Kaya had this and Kaya had that, and that hers were all real and genuine.

"I'm sorry I'm not Kaya, or as rich as her," you politely reminded him, not upset but starting to feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay!" He smiled, ignoring the subtle hint for him to stop talking about her. "I love you anyway!"

"Love you too," you smiled, but in your disappointment it didn't quite reach your eyes like it usually did. Still, you persevered, hoping he would stop by the next shop.

He did not.

"Kaya had something like this," he looked at the dress you were holding up, "But much prettier."

You frowned, again disappointed that he didn't like it. And that he had once again compared it to someone in his past that should be staying in said past.

Usopp noticed your expression, and his smile faltered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you smiled, shaking your head, "It's just not my style."

His eyes widened, "Woah, (Name), I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Usopp," you kissed his cheek, "Let's go, I think we're done."

"No we're not," he took the dress, "This will look so much nicer on you than Kaya."

You opened your mouth to say something, but giggled when he refused to let you and bought it for you, dragging you back to the Sunny so you could show him just how much prettier you were than Kaya.

#one piece #op #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #usopp x you #usopp x reader #usopp #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you

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feralforfrank · 1 year

Text

NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them.

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh.

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close.

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it.

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck.

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood.

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss.

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh.

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall.

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

previous | next

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ithebookhoarder · 2 months

Note

If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho

~ ☘️

(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub

A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help).

He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.

They will do as they are told and they will do it now.

This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight.

He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.

You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with.

He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found.

It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again.

Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying…

David Rossi

He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.

He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work.

“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”

However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake.

Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else.

He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.

He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again.

Derek Morgan

This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit.

There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).

Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing.

It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.

“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”

He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”

He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first.

Emily Prentiss

This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States.

She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)

She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick.

This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity’.

Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in.

This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe.

You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close.

“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.”

You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again.

JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike.

However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will.

It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back.

You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag.

You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.

“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected.

One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.

Penelope Garcia

Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.

Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out.

But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the

board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best).

Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field. Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case.

“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!”

Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers.

Dr Spencer Reid

Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you.

Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you.

Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar.

Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed.

“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”

We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare.

He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe.

Masterlist

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Okay, okay, part 2 of the angst. A little fluff amongst the angst.

(No content warnings)

You let yourself cry only once. Tucked up in the back of the transport plane, just you and your duffel. If Nikolai notices, he politely ignores it.

After the 141, it takes you a long time to invest in your new SpecGru team. You do your job, of course. Work hard — harder than you ever have in your life. Use all the skills you learned… learned before. Seem to make a good impression.

Your new captain is gruffer than Price right off the bat, but he’s fair. Tells you what needs improvement, but is honest about what he’s impressed with.

The rest of the team is… fine.

Just fine, you tell yourself. Keep it professional; keep it distant.

Even when Keegan goes out of his way to bring you snacks and remind you to hydrate. Even when Nova helps you with a bad jam on your gun. Even when Nikto of all people sits next to you in the gym. Not touching, not even speaking. Just there.

They respect your distance. Respect your baggage. Don’t give you shit when you decline invitations to go out. You wait for your new captain to say it’s not working out. To tell you that you’re not a good fit, he’s concerned about your teamwork with the rest of the squad.

The ice only starts to thaw when you fuck up again. When you nearly die. You wake up to the entire squad in your hospital room; even Nikto is there, leaned up against the wall across from your bed.

Your captain gives you a couple harsh words for stupid sacrifices, but he chucks you under the chin when he’s done. Keegan presses a kiss to your forehead just as the pain meds are kicking in and you’re too loopy to do more than ask him if he even likes you.

The answer, apparently, is yes.

He likes you quite a bit. So much, in fact, that you start letting him into your room when he knocks. Tell him about the 141. Start joining him for training and seeking him out for tips on the sniper. You like him, dammit.

Then Nikto starts joining you two. Shocks both you and Keegan; he’s not close with anyone. If you’ve got a suitcase worth of baggage, Nikto has a bloody moving truck. You can count on two hands the number of words he’s said, with fingers left over.

Yet he’s become your new shadow. Reminds you of… a certain someone, in a lot of ways. Except Nikto pulls a knife on someone for making a gross comment about you. And starts teaching you how to throw knives and jumpstart just about everything. Seeks you out — constantly, it seems.

So now you’ve got Keegan and Nikto, flanking you almost constantly. And then you have Nova, teaching you hacking skills and makeshift bombs, her thigh pressed to yours. And your captain, patting you on the ass after a job well done.

You agree to go out with them for the first time. End up with Nova in your laps for an hour. Then find yourself in Keegan’s for another. Have Nikto’s hand on the small of your back on the way out of the bar, and your captain’s hand on your thigh during the drive back.

“Fuck you,” you nearly sob, bouncing on Keegan’s cock that night.

“That’s — fuck, baby, ngh — that’s the idea?”

You nip at his jaw and grind down, squeezing your eyes shut. His hands are firm but reverent on your hips, thumbs stroking old scars, guiding you just right when you start shaking.

“Fuck you for making me care,” you sniffle, squeezing down, delighted in the noise he makes. “Goddammit.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear. “It’s alright. I love you too.”

And fuck if that doesn’t make you cum right then.

As you’re panting in the afterglow, you feel a rough kiss against your neck. Freeze as you see a gloved hand covering Keegan’s eyes.

“Love,” Nikto whispers in your ear. Your eyes sting, a sob caught up in your throat.

“Okay,” you whimper. “O-okay.”

Three months later, Laswell calls your captain for a joint mission. With the 141.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #angst #sad fic #specgru reader #former 141 reader

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lycheedr3ams · 11 months

Text

Choke on It ~ (part 1)

Fem!reader x hard!dom!konig

MDNI! NSFW!

Part 2

This is complete filfth and probably the most sinful thing i've ever written. not proofread

TW: gun kink, mean konig, hard dom konig, choking on his massive dick, slight masochism, hair-pulling, mask kink, swallowing his cum, lmk if I missed anything

(I'm not sure if a gun kink counts as dark content, so just be aware of this. Always use safe words and enthusiastic consent! Don't try this stuff at home.)

A few weeks ago, you told Konig that you'd like to...experiment in the bedroom a bit. He was usually a little rough, given his massive size and strength, but his words and the way he looked at you was always so gentle and loving. And you were fucking tired of it. You wanted him to just use you like you knew he could.

"I just want you to be really rough, for once," you explained to him one night. "I know you can use me however you want. Please, just do that."

His eyes widened in surprise, with a hint of worry. "Are you sure, Liebling?" he asked, concerned. "I don't want to hurt you."

You looked him right in the eyes as you said, "That's exactly what I want, Konig. Show me that I belong to you. I want you to do anything. You can even... bring a gun into it. I don't care."

His breath stopped for a moment as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. This massive beast of a soldier, who has killed so many people, is frightened by your words.

"If...if that's what you want...." he said nervously. But he couldn't help the excitement that started to blossom in his chest at the thought of finally being in control in the bedroom for once. He was always so willing to submit.

"Just surprise me, okay baby? Really, nothing is off the table."

Konig nodded and thought hard for the next few weeks.

.......

You didn't think it would happen tonight. You were just laying in your shared bed in you and Konig's apartment when he came back from maintenance training during his time off. When you heard the door shut as he entered, you got off the bed and happily walked up to him with a smile.

"Glad you're back from work," you say as you wrap your arms around his massive frame. But he doesn't hug you back. You look up at him, confused. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad day?" you ask.

His sniper hood was still on, and he was wearing the more casual camo pants and a tight black shirt, still drenched with sweat from his workout. He looked down at you without any emotion in his eyes.

"Kneel," he commanded with a low, raspy voice.

You looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

"Did you fucking hear me?" he asked as he looked down at you.

You gasped. "Y...yes. I was... just surprised, is all," you say as you begin to sink on your knees. Before both of your knees can even reach the hardwood floor, his gloved hand tangles tightly in your hair, and he pushes your face right into his crotch. You can smell his musk through his pants.

"You fucking wanted this, so you'll take it," he growled from above you. "You know what to do."

You look up at him with wide eyes before nodding and quickly undoing his belt and sliding the zipper down. Before you can even reach to pull him from his boxers, you can feel how hot and hard he is.

"You're so hard, Konig," you observed. He pulled your hair, and you yelped in pain.

"I didn't tell you to speak, now did I?" he said punishingly. "The only time your mouth should be open is when you're choking on my fucking cock. I haven't got all night."

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. This is it - this is exactly what you wanted, and you felt shame as you could feel yourself drenching your panties. You quickly pulled his hard length out from his sweaty boxers, and the scent of his sweat almost made you faint. You pumped his thick, hot length in your hand before roughly pushed your hand away and shoved your mouth down on his cock with his thumb and index finger prying your mouth open. Tears instantly sprang into your eyes from the sting of his entire length shoved into your mouth so quickly. You could feel his thick, hot tip poking the back of your throat.

He groaned above you and shoved your face down so that your nose brushed against his pubes. You coughed and sputtered with him still in your mouth, and he shook his head at you.

"Come on, you're used to my length by now, are you not?" he mocked with a teasing smirk hidden by his sniper hood. "Fucking. Take. It." He commanded, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips into your throat. His cock touched your tonsil each time and you couldn't stop choking. He roughly pulled you off his cock by your hair and stared down at you, shaking his head as you choked and spit dribbled out of your mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

"Fucking pathetic," Konig spat. You looked up at him, hoping for some sort of comfort from your normally loving boyfriend, but only saw a demon in that moment. "Relax your throat, yeah?" he said before suddenly shoving your mouth onto his wet cock again. You were more prepared for it this time, but nothing could stop your gags when he thrusted past your tonsils. He pulled you off his cock again and let go of your hair as he reached for something tucked in a back pocket.

Your eyes widened as you coughed when you saw him holding the hand-gun that he always conceal carries. He stared at you as he turned the safety on. But it was still loaded. You looked up at him, and he almost felt pity before he harshly reached down and dragged you back to your knees by your hair.

"You're going to fucking take it, and not choke, do you understand?" he commanded as he held the end of the gun right against your head. The cold metal poked into your skull, a contrast from the warm fingers of his gloved hand in your hair. You gulped as you look up at him. He shoved the gun deeper in your skull.

"I asked you a question," he growled as he bent over you.

"Yes! I understand!" You squeaked as you nodded.

Satisfied with your answer, Konig shoved you on his length again. One hand holding the back of your head and forcing you on his cock, the other holding the gun that was shoved against the side of your head. You felt completely powerless as he thrusted deep into your throat and groaned above you. You hollowed out your cheeks and wrapped your tongue around him, trying to focus on that rather than your gag reflex and the gun against your head.

"Scheisse," Konig hissed. He looked down at you and saw your heavenly face: your nose shoved right against his pubes, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and your throat bobbing as you struggled to take him.

"All you need is a gun to your head to make you behave, is that it?" he teased as his cock twitched. "I know you're so fucking wet right now. This is what you asked me for, remember?"

You closed your eyes as you tried to nod with his length halfway down your throat. Spit was dripping down your chin and down your throat, and Konig laughed at the sight.

"So desperate for this cock, aren't you?" he teased further. He suddenly stopped thrusting and instead used your hair to move your head up and down his cock, your lips wrapping perfectly around his thick length. You could feel one prominent vein slide against your bottom lip with each stroke. You sucked hard on his tip each thrust, and he began to tremble.

"Don't fucking stop," he said as he gripped your hair tighter. The tingling pain of having your hair pulled was almost just as unbearable as his cock down your throat. He dropped the gun and placed his hands on either side of your head as he thrusted into your mouth at a frantic pace before he came loudly down your throat. You could feel his hot cum spurting and sliding down your esophagus. He finally pulled you off of him, and you nearly collapsed on the floor as you gripped your throat, coughing loudly and with spit dripping down your chin.

Konig took off his sniper hood and sat on the floor with you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

"My love, are you okay?" he asked with worry plainly laced in his voice. "I hope I wasn't too rough with you..."

You shook your head, your throat unable to form words. You offered him a tired smile as you placed your hand on his thigh.

"Oh, you can't speak?" he asked as you shook your head "no."

"I'm sorry, Liebling, here," he picked you up easily and set you down on the couch. Part of you wishes he would throw you around the living room too. "Let me get you some water." Konig disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, which you drank gratefully. He sat next to you and you cuddled close to him as he gently stroked your hair and undid the knots he created.

hehe

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 5 months

Text

Reign down on me - Part 5

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

-🐺-

You fought back a sneeze, eyes going teary as your body pathetically fought the sand that had risen and invaded the wind. Suddenly you were finding yourself wishing for the ridiculous glasses that Ghost and the rest of the boys had been wearing earlier. Though you recognised that even if you had some of those monstrosities, it’d do you no good by that point. There was barely enough light to see by, the little half moon above was winking down and barely casting much of a glow over the night sky.

Price had dragged you all into a briefing room earlier that day and gave you all the run down on a new target, Razin, a man suspected of manufacturing bombs for the militia you were after. From there you were shown pictures of him, raising your brows at his scrawny features, and given a little intel about the town you were now stalking through. Even at the time you’d quietly groaned at the mention of the little desert town, you hated having to put up with the sand getting caught in your fur and eyes, not to mention how it made it so much more difficult to scent things as well.

The only benefit of the place was that the houses were small and usually that meant that there wouldn't be very much to sweep. That is if it weren’t built over a tunnel or extensive secret basement, which Price was heavily theorising could be a possibility.

From what you’d been shown it was only supposed to be two floors tall, with a roof that allowed for people to be positioned on top of it, set against the backdrop of the rocky hills beyond. It was close to the outskirts of town but still enclosed by other houses, positioned on the side that crept nearest to the small river that snaked nearby before disappearing into the rocky outcrops beyond. It would’ve been a sweet little place if it weren’t owned by the chef boyardee of bombs.

“Y’good, Pup?” Ghost murmured through the comms.

You looked over at the spot you knew he was positioned at, secreted away on the balcony to the right of you with his rifle, and huffed out a breath. Define ‘good’, you thought. It’d been a while since you’d been so far away from him. Now that you’d been hiding out by the open window for a few hours at least, you’d been blasted with sand and bored to death enough to make you want to cling desperately onto your handler’s leg and beg him to go home.

“Affirmative,” you whispered back instead.

“Good. We’ve got movement on the road outside of town - you two might be set to move soon, so get ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” you answered.

You rolled your tired shoulders and looked over at Soap, noting that his dark eyes were still flitting from the target location and to you, watching carefully like a fretful horse. He still looked barely more comfortable left alone with you than when you first arrived. The man had been none too pleased when Ghost explained his plan on arrival, frowning when he was told about your little team up. Couldn’t be helped when Soap was the best equipped to deal with explosives and someone had to play sniper and keep watch.

Of course Soap had continued to train with you in the week leading up to then, slowly getting better at not flinching whenever you got close to him. However he’d never had to be around you without Ghost as a buffer yet. Now that it was just you both in the small room across from the house, he was the most tense that you’d ever seen him. Not that he was trying to be obvious about it, he clearly felt he was being sly with his darting looks and slow sighs. For that you gave him some slack.

“I’m thinking the window on the right side is the best entry point for me,” you said, looking meaningfully across at him. “I can sweep the first floor while you go around to the side door and I can make sure it's unlocked for you.”

“You wanna go in alone?” Soap questioned, narrowing his eyes at the house.

“It’s what war dogs are for,” you shrugged. “No point waiting for you to come in with me, I can get in and check the place out quietly before you come clomping in.”

“I don’t clomp,” Soap snorted, giving you a withering look.

“Sure, tell that to all your heavy gear and your big boots. Trust me, if I go in and get a feel for the place then I can tell who or what we need to watch out for before we go sniffing out the target.”

“And you say ‘What’ meaning?” he questioned.

“Other hybrids, bombs, guns…etcetera,” you listed, shifting your sights to the window you’d pointed out.

“You can tell all that just from going in and getting a whiff of the front room?” he asked dryly.

“Well I can’t give exact information, but I can give a good guess. It’s just like when we’ve been training, if you let me get ahead of you then I can check the place out first and let you know what you’re up against. That’s how I keep myself useful.”

“Ghost, you good with that?” Soap asked doubtfully, frowning over at the balcony from the corners of your vision.

“The house has been quiet enough,” Ghost noted. “If Pup wants to go in first, I trust their judgement.”

“Pup’s way it is then,” Soap grunted, almost absolving himself of anything that might happen. “I’ll wait for you to open the door, furball.”

You nodded your head, forcing down your instinct to growl, keeping your focus on the window instead. You’d show him who was a fucking furball.

This was it. It wasn’t lost on you that this job would prove to the team that you could be an asset - not just a stupid wolf that ploughed through training exercises. Someone that could be used as an effective tool if given the chance.

This was your chance. You anxiously ran your hands down your vest, breathing in measured lungfuls of air while you took stock of your inventory and grounded yourself. There were three knives held securely in the right side, new ones that Ghost had gotten for you ahead of the mission, and a small first aid kit and canteen stashed in the main pockets on your left. You were wearing your gloves, and your ear protection was on and looped round your ears, the rubber circlets had thankfully stopped feeling as aggravating against your fur now that they’d been on for a few hours. They always pressed up so uncomfortably against your helmet, though it was always better to face a little discomfort than being killed by a shot you might’ve avoided.

“The car’s approaching the building, this is it.”

The old guard troupe would be coming out and a new one would be entering, however as the intelligence operatives had noted in their previous findings, the 2am group would never get to their posts on time. They'd opt instead to routinely drink and talk shit on the roof, presumably thinking that Eugene wouldn’t know about it, and would stick around for roughly a half hour before sluggishly making their way to where they should be - giving you and Soap time to get in, search for your target and hopefully get out before anyone was any the wiser.

You heard the engine grumbling through the winding streets long before it reached the other side of the house, but as soon as the headlights illuminated the street over, they cut almost instantly with the noise. Doors slammed and snide voices carried out into the night, mingling together in two distinct groups, one set growly and tired and the others playful and light. It was impossible to make out exactly what they were saying, but you were sure that the group leaving were probably being very obvious about how happy they were to be getting the fuck out.

“G’on, Pup,” Ghost murmured. “Make me proud.”

You shook your head and paid no more mind to the group on the other side, you were going to move forward out of view of them anyway. With Ghost’s encouragement strengthening your confidence, you were eager to press on. You nodded your head toward Soap as a ‘see you in there’ gesture and jumped out the window, stealing your way through the street and into the next window ahead. It was easy for you to spring up, tilting your tail a little to the left so that it wouldn’t smack against the frame.

As soon as you were inside you spotted the dancing shadows of the men toward the front of the building and found a decent hiding spot behind a side wall to wait in so that the new group of guards could pass by you. Your tail swished idly as you waited for them to come in and your ears twitched, listening out and rotating like little satellites as you took in your surroundings. The livingroom and kitchen were all one room, but there was a hallway to the bottom left that would allow entry into the house and up to the stairs beyond.

The guard opened the door before long, letting the cool air breathe a sigh into the house, and luckily they trudged up the stairs in short order. Their steps were muffled and soft, attempting to be light so that their boss wouldn’t be alerted. You heard them all the same. Your ears could pick up so much more than any of theirs could, which means you knew the exact moment you were safe to launch yourself to the other side of the room and get the door for Soap. He raised his brows at you when you made a sweeping motion with your hand to welcome him in.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” he whispered. “How many guests we got?”

“We got about six men tonight I think. No hybrids - you’ll be glad to know,” you said just as quietly, grinning when you caught his guilty wince. “Can smell the explosives, think Price was right on his basement theory, they don’t seem like they’re upstairs.”

“Y’hear that Ghost?” Soap said, purposefully looking away from you.

“Copy. I’ll keep an eye on the guards, you two track down that sly bastard,” Ghost answered, growly voice tickling your ears.

“Lead the way the way then, Pup.”

You nodded and lifted your head in the air, getting a good feel for the scent trail then turned toward the hall. The plastics clung at your nose and tugged you toward the stairs, but you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you needed to get below. Every instinct was telling you that you needed to go there, that someone’s steps had passed over them, but they hadn’t ascended.

A soft growl tore itself from you. You needed to get closer to the source. You knelt down and took a tentative sniff of the floor, the steps creaked lowly like a clearing throat as you shifted your weight onto them. Bingo.

“The fuck are you doin’?” Soap hissed.

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sweetly.

“The nose knows,” you shrugged.

“What’re you on about?”

Soap’s eyes were so wide you thought he might explode. You would’ve giggled if you weren’t conscious of how much noise you’d made already. No, it was important to try to be as quiet as possible in those next few seconds.

You hooked your fingers onto the first step and pulled up, huffing out a breath as they turned out to be heavier than expected. Though in seconds the first three steps came away and rose up, revealing a concealed stairway below - leading down to the dingy basement. The smell continued through the shadows, air thick with that heavy plastic smell.

“Fuck me,” Soap breathed. “You can smell secret entrances as well?”

“Oh yeah, they always smell fishy,” you smirked.

“Jesus. Ghost’s humour is rubbin’ off on you,'' he groaned.

He had a point. Normally you weren’t one for pointless chatter, but you were in your element that day and after training so much with your new team you felt more relaxed than usual. Of course you weren’t operating under the assumption that Soap would be diving in front of bullets for you, but at the very least he had your back.

“We’re heading underground, Ghost. See ya on the other side,” Soap noted, patting you on the shoulder just like Ghost normally would.

You felt your tail give a slight swish against the backs of your legs.

“Copy that, Sergeant,” Ghost confirmed.

Ghost was quiet compared to usual, focused on his targets you figured. It spurred you on to focus too. You quietly slipped forward down the stairway, nose raised in the air as you proceeded. Soap followed at your rear, quietly closing the stairway and bathing you both in almost pitch darkness. There was only a little light to see by, its source hidden round the corner. Things smelled and sounded clear, but nonetheless you braced, ready to duck and dive if you needed to.

When you turned the corner however, there was no need for any quick exits. There was just another hallway with some candles stuck in hastily hammered in holders, the flames lazily flickering as the stale air kept them standing bolt upright. You frowned and pressed ahead, boots softly pressing into the runner carpets until you almost hit a chain, only just avoiding it as you’d caught the shine of it in the corner of your eye.

You stuck a hand out to your left and kept Soap behind you, narrowing your eyes so that he’d know to be quiet. He caught on fast, not saying a word as you took another careful sniff around the air. Among the scent of burning wicks and aged dust there was something else, something earthy. There was a low droning sound as well now that you focused, a bassy groan that drifted through the walls.

Hybrid, you mouthed. Attack dog.

Soap’s eyes narrowed and he raised the pistol he’d unholstered from his side, the silencer reaching out into the hallway and past your body. You stepped off to the right and allowed him to push forward and round the corner, watching with dull interest as he shot the wolf man that had been resting by the next candle. After a soft pop sounded the man slumped off to the side and left a smear of crimson as he went, eventually thudding to the ground and rattling the chain once he reached the floor.

“That’ll be the alarm system then,” you whispered.

“Just him? There’s not anymore?” Soap asked, looking round warily for other signs of life.

“Not that I can detect,” you said carefully, taking another cautious breath of air. “He’s in pretty bad shape though, probably been kept chained down here a while. Can’t imagine Razin would want the hassle of having to get by more than one hungry mouth on the way in.”

“Aye…probably not,” Soap said, lingering doubt heavy on his voice.

You turned and smiled to yourself, again wondering why the Sergeant was so afraid of your kind. He had a gun, two guns in fact - one strapped to his back. You and yours only had teeth and claws to defend yourself with. Every fight you went into was one that tipped your scales ever closer to death, yet he walked around sometimes like he was standing with the grim reaper himself when he found himself with you.

There was no point getting caught up over it though. You advanced forward again and rounded another corner, this time greeted by muffled voices and sounds of implements working away. You getting closer. You were overwhelmed by the scent of a new person, baring your teeth at the thick coal like scent. It flooded your system and set your vision alight, peripherals shrinking as your wolf instincts came rushing forward. You were ready to attack, ears pinned back and tail sinking low.

“Pick somethin’ up?” Soap murmured, voice sounding so loud in your sensitive ears you wanted to snarl at him.

However, knowing your target was so close by, you silently turned instead and let Soap get a good look at your face. He seemed to visibly pale when his eyes met yours, but quickly remembered himself, raising his gun and holding his position behind you. Had you been more lucid, you’d have congratulated him for not flying off like a scared bird.

However, you walked forward instead, sticking close to the walls and keeping yourself on high alert. It wasn’t long until you were greeted with the sight of a new entryway and the drowning scent of explosive materials. Your entire head was on fire, every little instinct screamed danger, but you followed your training and ignored the rising need to get away.You peered around instead, widening your eyes as you saw Razin right in front of you. He was working away with his back turned, too distracted by whoever he was speaking to on his tablet to be able to pay any attention to either of you.

Soap slunk next to you and looked around, mouth set in a grim line as he sized up the target. All around him, littering his workshop were multiple prototypes, tons of different kinds of bombs that Soap would know far more about than you. The only thing you knew for sure was that you’d have to be quiet, take down the target as fast as possible - that was the only way to know none of them would go off.

Soap gently patted your head to get your attention. Wait, he mouthed.

You wanted to snap at him, mouth watering in anticipation of a bite, eyes narrowing as his hand drew close to your throat. However you wrenched yourself away from him and breathed out as quietly as you could, anxiously glancing between Soap and Razin as you waited for your ok.

It took every ounce of self control just to stand there. Soap didn’t look like he was in any rush to let you move. He listened to the conversation instead, jaw set and head tilted while he kept you suspended in the shadows, right on the precipice of an attack. You just wanted to go, needed to fly through the room and tear at something.

The conversation between Razin and the deep voiced stranger on the ipad drew to a close before you lost it, ending with Razin cursing before swatting at the tablet and sending it flying. You followed the movement with your eyes and turned to Soap, almost barking with glee when he tightly nodded and gave you the go ahead to go capture your target.

You had no clue what curses Razin was shouting when you landed on top of him, but you could hazard a guess that they were some of the worst profanities he could muster. His face scrunched in fury and his whole body flailed as he fought to get you off of him, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake you off.

Your main priority was ensuring his hands couldn’t reach for anything and set something off, so as you secured yourself over him, you bit harshly into one of his arms and growled when he swatted at you with his other hand. Before he could do any real damage Soap came to your aid and wrenched Razin’s free hand behind his back, securing it in a cuff before taking the other arm from you and settling the other cuff round that one.

“Release,” Soap commanded, voice wavering as he caught your eyes.

Your vision was almost completely darkened, indicating to the last sane shred of you that you’d gone nearly completely feral. Every limb in your body shook and your back felt like a lightning rod as the familiar instinctual tremble worked its way through you. Maddox’s voice rattled in your ear, the ghost of him ever present when you found yourself losing to the wolf. You are an attack dog, you will bite, you will kill, this is the only way to survive. Bite mutt, kill! Do what you’re meant for, dog!

“Pup,” Soap said carefully, trying to maintain eye contact. “You good?”

You growled in response, watching with displeasure as Razin continued to struggle beneath Soap. You wanted to put a stop to it. Not part of the mission, you reminded yourself, internally struggling with the angry beast inside your head. Need this one alive.

“Pup,” Soap said again, voice a firm roar.

“Yes,” you snarled, shaking your head and backing off. “M’fine. Lets go.”

Kill, mutt!

You shook your head again, walking forward and dispersing any last traces of Maddox, fighting to regain control of yourself. Normally you weren’t so prone to falling back so badly on the wolf instincts, as much as you often did use them to get in the right headspace you were usually still in control of yourself.

Now you felt untethered. It felt as though any threat to you and the team had to be treated with the utmost hostility. And Razin was a threat. It had you frowning back at Soap, watching as he struggled to force Razin forward while his feet tried to plant against the floor. You growled when Soap was knocked back by him.

Protect. Mine. Kill threat.

You almost stopped in your tracks when the thought hit you. For once it wasn’t Maddox’s voice spurring you and forcing you to do terrible things, this wasn’t any outside voice at all. The low growl that rushed through your head like a chemical injection was your own. Normally your instincts kicked in for self preservation,your body doing whatever it needed to in order to get through a job alive. Now they were directed at Soap, more specifically, towards ending the struggling and kicking from the man he was holding.

“I’m going on ahead,” you said, voice pitching up as you rushed forward.

If you spent anymore time looking over at Razin and his flailing feet you were going to kill him. It wasn’t a speculation, it was a certainty. One that had you wide eyed and running terrified down the hall.

You reached the top of the stairs in record time, pausing at the closed exit to listen out for anyone that might be coming down on the steps above.

“Ghost, we’ve secured the target. Are we good to exfil?” you rasped, hearing Soap cursing as he manoeuvred the hallways a lot slower than you did.

“The men are finishing the last of their drinks, one of them went down already. You’ll need to take him out and get out of there as fast and quiet as you can,” Ghost supplied, voice level as usual.

“I can manage that. Soap, I’ll go find Razin’s buddy. You good to get him out?” you asked, looking back into the darkness for your answer.

“I’m almost through the hall, fashioned a little gag for the bastard so I reckon we’ll be good on the staying ‘quiet’ part. Go ahead, Pup, clear to move,” Soap answered, voice echoing through the halls and on your comms.

“Alright then.”

-🐺-

You were shaking terribly by the time you made it back to transport. Razin was properly secured now, hooded and gagged before being taken away to another section of the hold with an armed guard. He was safely out of view from your stabbing glare. Meanwhile Ghost and Soap ushered you toward the opposite corner, serious looks in both their eyes as they exchanged low whispers.

Your head was filled with cloying fog. All you wanted to do, for whatever reason, was to get close to Soap, but you feared him retaliating too much to be able to do it. You wanted to make sure he was alright, but even you weren’t sure why you were so obsessed about it. It was Soap afterall, he was a highly trained SAS soldier, he was fine.

Not to mention, when he’d seen your blood covered face come into view behind him in the safehouse, he’d almost screamed bloody murder. The last thing he needed was you to go barreling up to him. You swore you could hear his heart thumping even when you stood just across from him, it beat so loudly. It hadn’t eased much since then and getting to the plane either.

Mine. Safe? Hurt.

Your chest held a small flame, body keeping it roaring as you anxiously wanted to check Soap over. You could smell his blood, could smell the copper tang that was corrupting the soft sage of his usual scent. It burned at your nose and caused you to whine when you got close. Ghost’s hand prevented you from getting nearer.

“Pup,” Ghost said softly. “Pup, can you look at me?”

You tore your eyes away from Soap and dutifully looked up at Ghost. His face was still covered by his balaclava and his eyes were darkened from the black paint. You huffed as you focused on his pupils, taking in the spiced citrus and the sound of his infectiously steady pulse.

Your panting breaths eased.

“You did good, Pup. Kept Soap safe and took down Razin and got that guard. You did a very good job,” Ghost rumbled, petting between your ears as he normally did. “Can you come sit down for me?”

You nodded, feeling almost in a trance as you complied with his request. You sat on the solid bench next to your Lieutenant, stopping to anxiously look back at Soap, until Ghost firmly gripped your jaw and tilted your head back to him. You whined.

“Shh, Pup. Shhh. Just give me your attention for a sec, ok?”

You gave him a little growl, but as soon as the look in his eyes hardened, you hushed up immediately. Have to be good for him, you thought to yourself. You closed your eyes for a second, and continued to work on your breathing, calming down with each evening heartbeat. Ghost watched you the entire time, never letting his gaze wander even for a second.

“Good, Pup,” Ghost praised after a moment, making sure to pet your back and over your ears. “That’s my good Pup, listening so well. Now…Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You froze at his question. Biting your lip when you knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with a lie.

“Soap’s bleeding,” you said simply, finally letting your eyes drop down to the floor. “Want to know he’s ok.”

Ghost tipped your chin back up with his hands. You could see his eyebrows were raised under the mask. You desperately wanted to look away again, but Ghost wouldn’t allow it. Soap snorted from behind your shoulder, he was still standing away from you both. His nervous steps across the metal were like their own heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m fine. The fucker bashed my nose in while he was strugglin’,” Soap explained. “A wee bit blood is nothing to get so upset over.”

You whined. You already knew logically that he was fine. It wasn’t your logical mind that was worked up though. Otherwise you’d be able to actually explain the problem to Ghost. However, as it was, you had no idea what the problem really was. All you knew was that Soap had been bleeding and you were absolutely beside yourself with worry over it.

Ghost seemed to have an idea though. He nodded to himself and petted your head for good measure, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder before he went to his pack. You watched his movements, cataloguing every step he took, trying to work out what he was doing. Sometimes when you got too worked up you’d get sent for a sleep, injected with a cocktail of drugs to force some calm into you.

Was Ghost going to knock you out?

You watched carefully as he pulled what looked like a bottle of water and a cloth from his bag instead. He untwisted the cap and carefully wetted the cloth, not letting too much liquid flood the material before he turned back to you.

“Stay still for me, darlin’. Keep your mouth closed,” he ordered.

You frowned, not sure what he was about to do until he began wiping at your face, smoothing the cloth over your skin until it turned red with the other men’s blood. He was cleaning you. The realisation had you untensing yourself and for a few moments longer you sat still and let Ghost work his magic until your face felt clean and light. All the grime was gone, your skin felt a little raw, but still it was better than before.

“Soap, you trust me don’t you?” Ghost said, putting the bottle down and looking over your shoulder.

The pacing behind you stopped.

“Not when you bring it up like that,” Soap retorted.

Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Come sit down.”

“Why?” Soap asked suspiciously.

“Just come.”

It took a second, but soon Soap complied, coming to rest beside Ghost. Ghost wasn’t someone to argue with, even to other humans. You saw Soap now, pupils dilating so quickly that you could feel your eyes actively adjusting to shut out light. Oh no, not again, you thought. You were losing yourself to instinct, wanting to surge forward and get closer - wrap yourself around him like a scarf. You looked away, trying to lessen his horror (and yours) as he shifted back a bit to get some distance.

“Soap, you’re not gonna like this…but please trust me,” Ghost said, bringing you close to his armoured chest. “I need to ask you to do something.”

You gratefully wrapped yourself round him, only barely able to get your arms fully round his vest so that you could hug into the man like he was your only source of warmth. It helped. Fully shutting your eyes against Ghost’s black tac gear and trying to distract yourself from the man next to him was the next best thing to whatever your instincts were screaming at you to do.

“Spit it out,” Soap said through gritted teeth.

“I need you to take Pup and let them…well essentially give you a hug,” he said awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to ask.

Soap snorted out a dark laugh and you were sure if you looked up you’d see a disgusted expression.

“I don’t think nows the time for having a fucking laugh, LT.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought you were in any danger,” Ghost said, voice taking on an edge as his body stiffened under you. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important either, I don’t want to hurt you. You know that.”

“Ghost, look at their fuckin’ eyes, I don’t see why-”

Soap stopped before he could finish, huffing through his sentence like he’d been asked to diffuse a bomb with five seconds on the clock. Your ears flicked as you picked up a new sound filling the space, something soft and forlorn that rattled through you.

Your own sobs, you eventually realised.

You were losing yourself again, you hadn’t even realised you'd started crying. It became more than evident as the hot tears drifted down your cheeks.

“Pup, it’s ok,” Ghost said gently, stroking your ears. “Shh, you’re ok. Why’re you cryin’?”

You shook your head, head feeling dizzier than if you’d spun in an endless circle. Words were too much. They were too human.

“Ey?” Ghost continued, smoothing his hand over your back. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head again. Your body lurching with a growing dread.

“If I-” Soap began, freeing on his words as he tried to figure out what to say. “If I take Pup…will it help…this?”

Ghost took a pause, trying to coax you from where you were squishing your face under his chin.

“I reckon so,” Ghost said.

Soap sighed, pushing you to cry harder. The only rational part left of you couldn’t be sure of why his reticence was so upsetting to you, but then again you weren’t even sure what had caused any of the upset in the first place. So many men had been hurt while you were with them, and most of the time you couldn't give a shit - the rest of the time you were happy even to watch them bleed or sometimes cry through some of the worst injuries. Now Soap had a bit of a nosebleed and you were practically choking as if you couldn’t take on air anymore.

You couldn’t make sense of it.

You especially couldn’t make sense of it when Soap switched places with Ghost and sat at your back, ending your little crying fit when he took you from your handler and held you to his front. Your sobs quietly retreated into your throat and your tears turned off like a tap had been yanked. Instead of breaking down, you focused on burrowing into his chest. Your body completely calming when you picked out the sound of his heartbeat and got closer to the fresh scent of sage, nuzzling your nose just shy of his collarbones.

“What the hell…?” Soap breathed, body tensing as you finished getting comfortable.

It took a little moment until he was able to slowly relax his muscles. His arms came first, settling around you, and then his thighs slowly dipped down. His pulse was the last to die down, beating insistently against your ears like a timpani drum before it gently became more of a wing beat.

You sighed contentedly and felt yourself getting very tired, closing your eyes just before your vision fully faded back into focus again.

“You have no idea how much you’ve just helped,” Ghost said gratefully, voice sounding distant as you continued to float into what felt like a different plane of existence.

“Are you gonna tell me how I helped?” Soap asked, voice sounding insistent as his heartbeat picked up again. “You tellin’ me that whenever one of us gets hurt that pup’s gonna need a bloody emotional support buddy to get through it?”

Ghost laughed throatily.

“Not likely,” he assured, leaning forward and stroking your back. “Learnt about this way back in training, but I’ve never seen it so strong so quickly - Pup’s pack bonded to us, but its not a secure bond right now. I’m guessing they got upset because they thought you being hurt and keeping your distance was like a rejection. Basically like you saying that they don’t need to be concerned about you getting hurt because you’re not part of the pack.”

“Well how was I supposed to kn-”

“You weren’t,” Ghost soothed, calming Soap down before you could properly stir again.

You hummed against Soap’s chest and frowned at his quickening heartbeat, attempting to slow it with a gentle nuzzle. Though it didn’t do much to calm him, so you soon stopped and found that worked better instead.

It was only when you went still that they resumed talking again.

“So what does pack bonding mean?” Soap asked, sounding unsure as he shifted around you. “Pup doesn’t even know that much about me and now we’re in this- a pack.”

Ghost chuckled at that, the material of his clothing loudly buzzing at your ears as he shook.

“It’s not like a forced marriage Johnny, you don’t have to sound so frightened, it mostly just means their instincts’ll tell em’ to keep us safe. It’s probably down to all the protection work Price has had them doing while we’ve been in the beginning stages. Pup’s had a rough life, no ones ever cared for em’ like we have, even in the short time that’s been. Even when you’ve been handling Pup like a feinting nun, you’ve probably been nicer than most people they’ve met.”

“Fuck you, feintin’ nun,” Soap spat, laughing despite himself. “You told me the other day I was doin’ well!”

“You have been doing well. Better than I thought you would,” Ghost said softly, a smile weaving its way through his voice.

“Well enough to be in a pack apparently,” Soap huffed, absentmindedly running his hand over your back.

You practically purred in pleasure at that, letting out a low happy sound in your throat. Soap startled, but still held onto you, hand freezing in place however. He clearly didn’t understand that the noise you were making was supposed to be something nice.

“Why’re they growling at me?” Soap squawked. “What’d I do?”

“Relax! That’s not growling, not per se,” Ghost laughed, “It’s a good growl. Mean’s they’re happy. Untwist your knickers, you don’t wanna work Pup up again.”

“Fuckin hell…pack bonding…happy growls. What’s next? My poor heart could’ve done with a warning before having to hunt a terrorist and deal with all this,” Soap huffed. “And you say all this is because we’re nice? How bad has a life gotta be for a hybrid to wanna hug me? How’s this even helping?”

“It’s not about the hug itself. Being close like that is just letting them hear your heartbeat and get your scent. Pup knows you’re ok because you feel and smell healthy - that’s all they needed. It doesn’t help that the Branhaven arseholes condition them to surrender to their instincts on the field. It’s good when it comes to hunting people down, doesn’t help so much when they get all panicky because one of their own’s been bleeding.”

“And they don’t train that out?”

“Wouldn’t have had to before. Like I said - we’re the only ones that’ve been nice to em’,” Ghost said, voice quietening when he said the next part. “We’re the only team that’s ever applied for guardianship in the entire time they’ve been working. They got stuck in the military when they were ten and got signed away under a DNN contract. Even though it’s only been a week, we’re all Pup has. It’s only natural for them to feel like this.”

“What’s a DNN contract?” Soap asked.

“Do not notify,” Ghost said, the words making you whine softly as you thought back to when it was first explained to you. “Means Pup’s parents didn’t want contact after they dropped them off. No phone calls or letters from them, no contact, no notice if they ever get killed or captured.”

“That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Soap growled.

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed, stroking his hand over your back again. “Such a sweet Pup too. Got us to be good to you now. Our good Pup, huh?”

You whined in agreement and settled into Soap fully, happily letting yourself drift off to thoughts of citrus and sage. Theirs, the raspy inner voice whispered - just before you could fully lose the battle to sleep. Mine. Theirs. Mine!

-🐺-

The next day, after the debrief had reached its conclusion, Soap asked Ghost if he could have five minutes with you. You’d bitten your lip, anticipating that he might want to chew you out for you’d acted with him, and sadly nodded when Ghost said he’d be waiting across the corridor in Price’s office for you.

As soon as the door had clicked closed, you waited for the shouting to begin and wrapped your arms tightly round yourself, as if to keep your heart in your chest. Soap didn’t roar or hit the desk, or make any moves you’d been waiting for, not right away at least you’d figured. No, he gently tugged the seat in front of you out from the table and sat down across from you.

You peered over at him and felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, still not completely past the fact you’d insisted on curling round him like a little lap dog. Things were a bit foggy from that day still. Ghost had had to explain on the way back to his that you’d succumbed to your instincts and Soap has helped you calm down, but sure enough once he had, you remembered what you’d done and felt deathly self-conscious. No matter how much Ghost had tried to insist that it was ok, you’d gone to bed that night without speaking another word.

“Look, um…I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Soap said nervously, arching his body down so that he could speak on your level.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated, not sure you’d heard right.

Did he mean to ask for an apology from you instead? You had no idea what he could possibly need to apologise for. As far as you were concerned his behaviour had been completely justified, you had acted like a crazy person. It wasn’t normal to need to sit and sniff people and hug them after they’d suffered a very common injury in the line of work you were in. Yet he still wanted to apologise to you?

“Yeah,” Soap breathed, pursing his lips before he could explain himself. “I’ve been treating you like a threat when you haven’t deserved it. It’s not acceptable, I’m a grown man and I’ve been acting like a scared kid around you. So I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Uh…” you trailed, not really sure how to respond. “Thanks?”

It wasn’t often that anyone apologised to you, especially not when they hadn’t even done anything that you deemed bad. For that reason, you were left scrabbling for something to say and unfortunately left wanting, letting the sentiment of gratitude hang in the air instead. Things were even more awkward now.

“You don’t need to worry about yesterday as well…Ghost said you were feelin’ awkward and I-”

“It won’t happen again,” you assured, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. “I’ll get better control of myself.”

“Well, you weren’t really yourself, so…It’s fine. You had your reasons.”

It wasn’t fine. However you didn’t really want to disagree with him, so instead you nodded tightly and looked away from Soap instead.

“I know you have your reasons for how you are with me,” you said softly. “Something to do with your scar, right?”

“How’d you…?” Soap trailed off, rubbing his thumb along the cracked keloid on his chin.

He almost seemed to realise the answer to his own question as he did it. You nodded when his eyes widened. It was almost comical really, he seemed like he was caught doing something awful when it wasn’t even a big deal. You were used to people being distrustful of you, had had your own parents accuse you of being ready to turn into a rogue beast at any moment. Being feared wasn’t anything new.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged.

“No, look…You should know - I don’t think you’re gonna do anything like this to me and even then that’s not really why I- It’s not- ugh fuck it,” he sighed, body growing heavy as he sat back in his chair. “My little brother was jumped by a hybrid when we were young. He was playin’ football in the street and ended up kicking the ball too far down the road. I was supposed to be watching him and I was too busy chattin’ to my friends and- well all I heard was him screamin’ bloody murder and when I got there he was knocked out and his arm had nearly been chewed clean off. I managed to get the wolf- i mean him off my brother, but then he turned and scratched me- tried to bite- I… well anyway - I got him away and my brother ended up in hospital for a long time and it was a really fuckin’ dark time for my family.”

You watched his impassioned expressions as he told his story and nodded along, wincing as he tried to use the right words to try and explain to you what had happened. He didn’t need to explain it to you, not really. He looked down right pained as he remembered back to what must have been an awful day for him.

Now you both sat in the heavy silence of the now cavernous room.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you said awkwardly.

“I didn’t tell you that because I wanted you to feel sorry for me,” he said in a reassuring tone. “I just wanted you to know I have some shit to work on, and I that I am trying to work on it. I don’t want you to feel any less a part of the team because of how I act. You’re just as much a part of the 141 as I am, don’t doubt it for a second.”

Your ears pinned flat to your head and your chest swelled with emotion. The drum inside your chest beat quickly out of time and you struggled for a moment, feeling a light tingling at the back of your neck. Part of you tried to convince yourself that it was all a mean trick, but just one look into his soft blue eyes told you that he was genuine. He really didn’t want you to feel bad.

“Thanks, Soap,” you murmured, fighting the lump in your throat just to speak. “That’s really kind of you.”

“Just the truth,” he grunted, trying to inconspicuously clear the emotion from his voice. “You should probably go get Ghost now, yeah? You’ve probably got some runnin’ around to do.”

You broke at that, nodding and letting your eyes clear of the growing wetness. Soap had only in the past few days started referring to your training as ‘running around’, and it was a fair way to sum it up, but no less insulting. Playfully insulting at least, the kind of thing teammates would say.

It made you smile then.

“Yeah…” you laughed, slowly rising from your chair. “Best get to it.”

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

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desert-fern · 1 year

Text

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*

A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Teaser >> Part 2

===

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”

“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.

“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”

“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.

A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.

“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”

Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.

A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”

Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”

“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.

“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.

Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.

“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”

“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.

“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”

“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”

“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”

“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.

Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.

“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”

His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”

“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.

“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”

“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.

He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.

“A Navy Seal.”

Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”

“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”

“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”

“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”

“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”

“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”

Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.

===

Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”

Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.

“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”

“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.

“Asshole.”

“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.

Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”

Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”

“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”

“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.

===

Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.

“There are Seals on this base?”

“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.

“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.

Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”

“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”

“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”

Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.

Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”

Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”

With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”

The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.

Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”

“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.

“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”

“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”

===

A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!

And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!

Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @fandomxpreferences @fighterpilothoe @dempy @gizmodear @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @javden @snubug @indigomaegrimm @twsssmlmaa @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @waywardhunter95 @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @melss24 @heli991113 @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins Sorry if I missed anyone!

#a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #Fern finally writes something!#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #controlled chaos squad #callsign bruiser

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stellarbit · 1 month

Text

Reassurance

I needed some positive affirmations and I made Tech give em. No real warnings, but light discussion of anxiety.

2.8k words

You asked Wrecker to train with you and you keep getting knocked on your ass. Tech offers to help and ends up helping more than you thought possible.

It's a comfort fic mostly and I'm feral for some Tech comfort. Enjoyyyy (Also let me know if you can spot the other potential prompt in here.)

“You’re doing it wrong.” Wrecker chuckled.

You hit the sparring mat hard, knocking some of the air from you. Since surrendering your lightsaber, you took to honing your other combat skills. Wrecker’s hand-to-hand skills were some of the best and he was happy to help when you approached him.

He towered over you as you got back on your feet. “You need to put your weight into it.”

“I am.” You didn’t mean to sound as annoyed as you did.

“No you’re not.” Crosshair taunted in a sing-song tone from his place leaning against a far wall. The downtime was rare and Crosshair deemed watching you flounder worthy of that time. “You hesitate every time you need to push harder. An easy way to get killed.”

You whirled on him. “I push as hard as I can.” Everything about the thin sniper got under your skin. In a way that made you want to hurry up and see what face he’d make when you slap him across the face. Because it wasn’t and if. It was absolutely a when.

Multiple times you caught him watching you. When you did, his stare stayed on whatever part had caught his attention before slowly meeting your eyes. The way he smirked and chewed that fucking toothpick screamed, ‘Do it, I dare you.’

Crosshair shook his head dismissively and snorted. “No. You’re not.”

Wrecker stepped between you and Crosshair, his massive frame blocking your view. His hands were splayed out in a placating gesture.“What he means is you’re holding back.”

“Or maybe she’s afraid of hurting you.” Crosshair quipped.

Wrecker belted out a laugh, “Ha! Yeah, right.” At that, you cut him a mean look.

The door to the sparring room hissed open and Tech filed in, out of armor and no databad in hand. He took in the sight of you all, to his eyes, just standing around. “Well that was short lived. I thought you’d be sparring most of the afternoon.”

“We are.” Your temper was quickly burning through your patience. “They just have some unhelpful commentary.”

“Perhaps, although you do not handle criticism well.” Tech turned to Wrecker. “What seems to be the issue?”

Wrecker chose his words carefully, wary of the intensity of your glare. "She..." He paused, feeling the weight of your disapproving stare. "She hits a wall and hesitates when she needs to push through."

Tech pondered for a moment, tapping a knuckle to his chin. “I’d like to see what exactly you mean. I may be able to troubleshoot this obstacle.” He tipped his head to you. “If you don’t mind my watching.”

Your stomach flipped. There hadn't been many opportunities for the two of you to be alone. In fact, you hadn’t been alone since your last mission ended. You were discreet in seeking out his company, mindful of not being too obvious. Despite helping you with your broken armor before and acknowledging, even relishing, your attraction to him, nothing more had come of it. You were starting to wonder if it had just been a passing interest for him.

Wrecker and you assumed your positions while Tech adjusted his goggles, a soft beep indicating the start of his recording.

You followed the familiar routine, blending the techniques Wrecker had taught you with those instilled by your former Master. Initially, everything flowed smoothly as you utilized your agility to evade Wrecker's raw strength. There were moments when you successfully countered his attacks and seized the offensive. However, as Wrecker intensified his efforts, a tightness began coiling in your stomach that radiated into your limbs.

The sensation swelled, threatening to overflow or overwhelm you entirely. Just as it had countless times before, the intensity reached a dizzying point where you could no longer anticipate Wrecker's moves. Ultimately, in your attempt to flank him, Wrecker landed an elbow to your chest, sending you sprawling onto your back.

The wind knocked out of you again, leaving you writhing on the floor. Another beep came from Tech’s direction. Recording over I guess.

Wrecker rushed to you. “I think we should stop for today.”

“Agreed.” Tech said firmly as he approached. Kneeling down, he made himself at home inspecting your head for injuries. “While phrenospasms aren’t typically life threatening, it is best to rest after experiencing them.” After a moment of silence, Tech sighed, “You need to catch your breath.”

Wrecker winced, knelt down, and slid a hand under your back to ease you into a sitting position. “Sorry about that, sarad,” His large hand did a few circles on your back before sliding to your cheek. The soft gesture soothed you. “But you’ll get it!” He gave you one last pat on the back before standing up.

Tech clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I'll check her over," he announced, his annoyance evident. Waving off their presence in a bored manner, he added, "It would be best if that happened without any 'unhelpful commentary.'”

Crosshair pushed off of the wall. “Well, if you’re looking for someone else to knock you down, I’ll gladly do it.” You nearly bit his leg as he walked by.

When the door shut and you were alone, Tech pulled your face back in his direction. “Do not dwell on Crosshair’s remarks. He enjoys getting a rise out of people.” With his arm cradling your back, he held your arm and brought the two of you to your feet. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You took a deep breath in, stepped out of his grasp, and rolled your shoulders. “Just need to practice.” Tech's gaze remained focused on you, analyzing your every move. "When you started hesitating, right before Wrecker landed that hit, you were thinking something. What was it?"

“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” You said quickly, hoping he would drop it.

He didn’t. “You were definitely processing something. Other than your sparring, what were you feeling?”

You turned and blinked at Tech. He never failed to surprise you. “Emotionally?” Analyzing the failures in your strategy was one thing, asking about feelings was a completely separate realm.

Tech shook his head, “No, no. Physically” He walked forward and placed a hand in the middle of your chest. “Just now, you may not be thinking a singular thought but you are feeling your heart rate spiking. Am I correct?” He could feel it himself, but it was important you acknowledged it.

Of course he was correct, his touch kicked your heart into your throat.

When you nodded he continued. “It is safe to say that is due to your attraction to me. While you may not be actively thinking about it, your body is reacting with patterned behavior due to recurring circumstantial stimuli.” He pulled his hand back and said, “In other words, our bodies remember how we react during significant events. When exposed to similar circumstances our bodies tend to react in an established pattern. It can be positive, like nostalgia. Or it can be detrimental in the cases of fear or stress. Our bodies react before our minds can register what we feel.” He let out a final quip, ��It is a survival instinct.”

Tech stepped back and rolled a hand towards you, urging you on. “Now, what were you feeling?”

Taking a second to take what he said in, you realized no one had ever asked you that. The Jedi pointed out identified concerning behavior in you and voiced their warnings, but they never asked you where it stemmed from. They made their theories that then solidified into fact. After that, not much changed their minds. One abided by their rules … or left.

Seeing how you were stationed with a squad of clones sans a lightsaber, it was clear where your path went.

Your gaze wandered around the room - anywhere but at Tech. “Something built inside me and I lost focus.”

“Your avoidant behavior suggests this is an uncomfortable topic. Why?”

As well meaning as his questioning may have been, showing him what the Jedi Council had seen hadn’t been at the top of your priorities. “It’s just… I know there’s something wrong with me. But don’t worry,” You tried to laugh it off, “I’ll figure it out.”

Tech’s brows furrowed and his head tilted, clearly confused as to how you got to that conclusion, “I did not say, nor do I believe, you are defective.” The last word snapped your eyes back to him. It didn’t carry weight for just you. “Did the Jedi tell you that?”

Suddenly you could hear your Master’s voice, ‘Dangerous.’ It rang through you and with it came shame. Looking at Tech, patiently asking you questions for your own benefit, your Master’s voice fell silent.

“I can’t fight like the Jedi. They fight with the force to keep peace for the greater good.” You hesitate before continuing. “But this energy builds inside of me and I want to use it because sometimes… sometimes I want to win no matter the cost.” Tech’s expression had not changed; he did not seem to grasp the issue. Desperately, you clasped your hands to your chest. “That’s wrong. It’s selfish and that’s not the way of the Jedi. Being selfish can make us - “ You flinched, “them dangerous. Jedi aren’t supposed to want things. I want a great many things, Tech, and the list only grows. The way I am makes me weak minded and dangerous.”

“When you say that you feel this way ‘sometimes,’ what kind of instances are you referring to?”

“The times when losing will cost me something I care about.”

“There is no passion, there is serenity.” Tech recited one of the tenets of the Jedi. “There is no emotion, there is peace.”

“Exactly.” His boundless knowledge earned him a humorous scoff from you.

Tech hummed in understanding. “I can see the Jedi perspective on such traits, considering their Code. However, I'm struggling to discern the correlation between that and your issue with Wrecker. It's merely a practice session, therefore you're not in danger of losing anything beyond the match itself.

You both stood in silence for a few moments. Reflecting on what you confessed and with eyes on the ground, you finally spoke, “I asked Wrecker to spar because I want to know that when I fight I will win. I lose focus because losing to Wrecker now means I’m going to lose something more important than a match in the future.”

An extra set of feet came into sight followed by Tech’s face.

Tech knelt to meet your eyes, adjusting his goggles to better observe you. "The logic in that statement is flawed, at best." he remarked, his tone measured.

"Individual motivations and morals in combat varies from person to person. As long as your primary motive isn’t causing others or yourself pain, there is no wrong way to survive."

"What if my actions to protect what matters to me hurts others?" The genuine fear on your face caught Tech off guard. "If I prioritize a few, what about the rest?" Your self-doubt and self-loathing troubled Tech; it was a burden you didn't deserve to bear.

“There will always be champions for the many. The few, however, need their champions too.” A slight quirk of his lips hinted at a comforting reassurance. "Additionally, if you're using losing to Wrecker as a benchmark for your future success rates, I'd advise adjusting your expectations. Even General Skywalker himself lost a sparring match to Wrecker. Merely holding your own against him is an accomplishment worthy of pride."

The way your face contorted paired with you sinking to your knees made him worry you might be sick. Instead you sucked in a massive breath and on a shakey exhale you said, “Tech, thank you.” You sounded lighter. A point of satisfaction for Tech.

There was something Tech wanted for you. “What you feel and how you feel is valid. It is crucial you know that.” He cupped his hand just below your ear to smooth his thumb over your cheek. “Until you do, I am glad to remind you.”

Tech’s eyes fell to your lips momentarily, your pained expression warmed into a small smile. There was only one thing missing. He moved his hand to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath caught, and your lips parted involuntarily. "I am curious to hear about this growing list of wants." Slipping his forefinger under your chin he moved your gaze with his as he raised to his knees, posturing over you. It gave him a full view of the flush finally working its way across your cheeks. "Have there been any recent additions?"

Looking at the way your hair was bound together, he didn’t deny the urge to explore a few things. He hooked finger into your hair tie and pulled your hair loose. It fell down, some of it falling into your face. Tech use his fingers to comb your hair back, stopping at the nape of your neck, and then circling his hand back to your cheek. Watching you over the past few rotations, he’d noticed your fondness for your face being touched.

Leaning into his touch, with a hand resting over his, you were practically purring for him. “There have.” You said, spurring him on.

“Do people appear on this list?”

Your nod came with a subtle shift in your gaze, your eyes half-lidded. Tech felt a flutter in his chest, he even felt heat creeping into his own face.

"Do I feature on this list?" he ventured, his voice betraying a bit of anticipation.

Your eyes drifted to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. "I want you, Tech," you confessed, a weighty emotion evident in your expression.

Tech's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he lowered himself slightly. In response, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. "What exactly do you want, sarad?" he inquired softly.

Just as he hoped, your eyes widened for a split second at the sound of their nickname for you. It meant "flower" in Mando'a—a fitting description for how you blossomed in their presence, and at this moment, in his.

"Stars above, I want you to kiss me.” Without hesitation, you seized Tech, drawing him down to your level. When your lips hit, Tech only tensed for a second, his hand finding its place at your waist, drawing you closer and deepening the kiss. You responded eagerly, capturing his lower lip with a gentle suck.

A soft, pleased sound escaped Tech's lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. Your hands roamed freely, one wrapping around his back while the other found its place around his neck. With a forceful tug you two stumbled backward in unison.

Not breaking the kiss, Tech shoved the hand on your waist out to cushion the fall. Once lowered onto your back, he pulled away to hover over you and allowed you both some air. You didn’t let him pull too far away, stopping him by hooking a leg around his. The pressure of you grinding up into him pulled another little sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut before he playfully pressed his weight down onto you. “I will say one thing.”

With a playful huff, you teased, "Only one thing this time?"

Tech arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Just this once." With deliberate movements, he pushed himself up onto one elbow, transitioning back onto his knees, while simultaneously lifting you to him and allowing your legs to hang around his waist.

You pulled yourself up onto his lap, holding onto his neck for support. “Go on.”

"You are not weak," Tech affirmed, his hands firmly grasping your thighs as he bounced on his heels and lifted you both up. His movements were fluid as he rose to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I daresay you are dangerous."

His remark elicited a genuine laugh from you, though it didn't diminish the charm you found in his words. If anything, it heightened it.

With a subtle tap on your leg, he signaled for you to lower your legs. “As enjoyable as this is, I'd prefer not to delve further into it while my brothers could walk in at any moment," he explained, assisting you to regain your balance. With a deft movement, he produced your hair tie as if out of thin air. "I've given great thought to the aspects of you I wish to explore. And I intend to do so without interruption."

Before you could get another touch in Tech stepped back and tapped his goggles, initiating a soft beep. “Now that we’ve identified the issue, get into position and show me your stances.”

You laughed, “You’re kidding me.”

“I am not, but should you need further encouragement I do have ideas for rewards for your strongest positions.”

It didn’t take you long to get into position.

#star wars #tech #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tech x reader #the bad batch tech #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch crosshair x reader #the bad batch wrecker x reader

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grandline-fics · 6 months

Note

hellooo!!! i really liked your unconscious protector story so i wanted to ask if you could make a story about luffy and zoro in which the reader has the most beautiful smile ever and they would do anything just to see them smile

i think it would be really cute and fluffy😭😭

DESCRIPTION: Your smile is all they want to see

WARNINGS: fluff central, established relationships this time

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro

WORDS: 1,030

A/N: Thank you so much for the request. I'm still sick so I hope this turned out to your liking! I decided to do it a little differently for these guys but hopefully it still works

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

The first time Luffy saw you smile was the sole motivation he had to try and convince you to join his crew. It was as simple as that. Sure you were a good fighter and someone he was willing to help when you first met but he had been more than happy to just leave things there when he and the rest of the Straw Hats were ready to move on but then you just had to smile. Finally able to express just how grateful you were to him and the others you broke out into the biggest, warmest smile and wished him a safe journey. Only it caught you and everyone else by surprise when Luffy’s hands latched onto yours and he stared intensely at you begging you to come with them. While you were thrown briefly you couldn’t deny the urge to see the world and seeing how sincere Luffy was you could only say yes and follow him loyally.

Since then he made it his own personal mission to get you to smile at him at least once a day. It was almost like it was as necessary as his meals, sleeping, and water. If he didn’t get a dose of your smile he wasn’t his usual bouncy self. The only time it came close to a full on disaster was when the crew split up into two groups on an island and didn’t regroup until late that night. When you returned you were startled by Luffy tackling you to the ground, shouting your name. Since you were used to your Captain’s impulsive and energetic nature you could only reason his actions were fuelled by excitement. So you could only grin at him and greet him with a warm “I missed you too, Luffy.” After seeing that which he’d been deprived from all day his shoulder’s visibly relaxed and he pulled you into a tight hug. Those in the group that had to suffer their Captain’s foul mood made an unanimous decision to never go with Luffy again unless you were joining them.

After you and Luffy became an item, he found it so much better because then he could see you smile all the time. You were both practically inseparable and while it was easy to get you to smile before by just pointing out things that excited him he found that being a couple brought new ways to see the thing about you that just warmed him and sustained him so completely. Getting to sit side by side with you on the Sunny with his arm around you and talking about anything and everything always brought a smile to your face, unable to believe how lucky you were. Even when you asked him why it was you he wanted, Luffy could only tickle your sides lightly until you broke out into a laugh and bright grin. “That’s why. It’s my favourite thing in the world.”

ZORO

“Ugh he’s in a bad mood again.” Usopp sighed and you looked across the Sunny to see your boyfriend doing pushups. Silently you looked at the focused determination on his face that the others would mistake to be one of his ‘come near me and I’ll cut you’ moments. However this wasn’t one of those moments. You bit back the smile fighting to creep across your features and you nodded slowly, lightly tapping the sniper’s arm you gave him a convincing reassuring smile and as you walked away you promised “I’ll speak with him.” You knew Zoro was just too focused on his training but you just didn’t want anyone else to bother him. In moments like these when the other’s were giving your boyfriend a wide berth you liked to take advantage of it and have some alone time with him.

Just as his body was close to the deck you lay over him abruptly, knowing that your added weight wouldn’t faze him. You grinned when he paused his workout, body locked in the position. Draping your arm over his shoulder you lay your cheek against his head and grinned. “Apparently you’re in a bad mood.” You told him when he resumed his pushups and made a small uninterested huff.“And you’re risking yourself by being in my very presence?” he asked in a low voice, knowing you were the only one that could hear him and with the perception that he was in a bad mood, no one would be looking his way which meant he could smile a little more openly.

“Oh don’t worry about me,” you mused. “I know how to defeat you, Demon Pirate Hunter in one move.” Now Zoro chuckled, his workout promptly forgotten and you could tell by his posture that he was done. With a knowing hum you got off of him to let him stand and reach for a towel to wipe his face.

“One move huh?” Zoro asked, throwing his towel across his shoulders, finding he was already missing the warmth of your brief, distracting embrace. Now he’d just have to settle with you standing in front of him, relaxed and playfully regarding him with your best imitation of his usually stoic expression. “Care to demonstrate?”

“I don’t know…it is pretty powerful. Promise you can handle it?” Zoro rolled his good eye, indulging you. Slowly he folded his arms across his chest and made a single gesture with his finger, signalling you to hit him with this so called powerful move. Unsurprisingly you accepted the challenge.

Stepping forward you placed your hands on Zoro’s arms and peered up at him making sure his gaze was focussed on your face. Then you beamed up at him with a bright smile that only grew when you felt him tense immediately. “You’re bounty went up again! Congrats, babe!” You cheered, watching in satisfaction when Zoro quickly lowered his head to press it against your shoulder, his arms pulling you close. “Damn that smile of yours.” He grumbled lightly. As much as he hated the idea of being vulnerable in most aspects of his life, he couldn’t hate this.

“You know you love it.” You grinned. He did, he really did.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #luffy #one piece luffy #one piece fluff

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lieutnt · 1 year

Note

hi i hope you're doing well <33

I have had a very kinky thought with Konig and haven't seen anyone do it so I figured I'd request it

Reader is an excellent sniper , Konig asks him to help train him to be a better sniper. Reader agrees and while helping Konig practice , he starts teasing him and telling him to keep focusing on hitting the targets - after Konig hits all the targets reader gives him a reward for being such good boy and ofc the reward is getting railed til Konig is a moaning mess

helping hand

Pairing: König x Male Reader Summary: König comes to you for some help - and you're more than happy to. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Top!Male reader, teasing, handjobs, fucking outside, unprotected anal, creampie.

Your breath in his ear sends goosebumps rippling across his skin. “I thought you wanted my help König?”

He quickly nods, a whine bubbling in the back of his throat. “I do-”

“You don’t seem to be taking it very seriously.” You interrupt, a hand trailing down the curve of his spine. Under the weight of your hand you feel him fidget, trying to stop himself from grinding his hips into the ground for any sort of relief. “You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” he cries, cock throbbing painfully within the confines of his pants. Every little one of your touches sent a new wave of arousal coursing through his body, his mind ready to give up and submit to you. “You’re too distracting,” he whines.

Ever since he had met you in the makeshift training area you had been teasing him; standing too close, talking in his ear, your hands all over his body as you manoeuvred him into different sniping positions, all while König steadily got harder and harder and became more and more distracted, barely able to focus on why you were here in the first place.

“You need to be able to focus even with distractions all around you,” you begin, capturing his attention once more. “How about this? You manage to hit the rest of the targets and I’ll give you a reward.”

“What kind of reward?” He asks pointlessly, he’s already sure he knows what will happen, or at least what he wants to happen.

Tutting you shift up onto your knees, König turning his head to watch you. “Well we can’t ruin the surprise now can we?” You wink, and he’s thankful for the hood covering his head so you can’t see the crimson blush creep up on his cheeks. “Now, three targets left.”

It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up, and he quickly adjusts his focus back through the scope of the sniper rifle, scanning the area to try and find the targets. He soon finds one, hitting it dead on with no issues.

Hearing the pleased hum come from you he tries to ignore it, but he can’t contain his reaction as his body jumps when your hand falls onto the arch of his back, fingers skimming across the fabric of his shirt. “Focus,” you scold, and he fights his body wanting to arch into the touch.

Pushing out a deep breath he starts again, searching for another target. Your hand stills as you wait, and the heat coming from your palm even through his shirt feels like torture. You can feel when he finds another one, his back just tensing and relaxing ever so slightly, and once he’s in position he quickly lets off another shot, hitting the target perfectly. “Good,” you praise, hand drifting lower to follow his spine, stopping halfway down. “One more.”

König’s breathing is harsher now, fighting to control every breath as he tries to find the last target. Excitement races through his veins when he does. He forces himself to be calm, trying to ignore your presence near him and fires, sighing with relief when he hits the final one.

Moving your hand lower you start to play with the waistband of his pants, fingertips dipping under the fabric intermittently. “There you go, knew you could do it,” you purr, König preening under your praise. “Now about that reward-”

König groans, cutting off your train of speech. “Please, stop teasing me.”

You take your fingers away, chuckling as pushes his hips up to follow the movement. “Oh? What do you want me to do?”

His cock throbs, leaking with excitement. “Fuck me,” he mumbles, tucking his face into the inside of his elbow.

Although you heard him perfectly you decide to tease him further, placing both hands on his hips, encouraging him to move until he’s resting on his arms and knees, back arched perfectly, ass in the air in front of you. “What was that?”

“Fuck me,” he tries again, louder this time.

Shuffling forward you stop just before your thighs hit the back of his legs, hands tightening on his hips to bring him backwards the rest of the way. He goes willingly, groaning when he feels the large bulge in your pants against his clothed ass, and unashamedly he rubs against you, a pleased rumble leaving your chest.

One of your hands snakes from his hip around his waist, fingers barely ghosting the outline of cock as you go for his zipper instead, slowly bringing it down until the shape of his cock is spilling out from the opening. As swiftly as you can you pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop, König hissing as his cock twitches in the open air.

He grunts when you wrap a hand around his hardened cock, sliding your palm over the head to gather the precum dripping there and slathering his cock as you begin to stroke up and down, your other hand kneading the flesh of his ass cheek. As soon as he starts trying to fuck into your hand you stop, removing your hand and planting it on his other cheek, pulling them apart so you can see his twitching hole.

“Would you look at that?” you coo, thumb brushing against his rim. “Looks like your hole is begging to be filled.” König whines, his body aching for any sort of stimulation. Gathering up as much spit as you can he gasps when he feels it hit his hole, your thumb quickly spreading the moisture, teasing his entrance.

Slowly you fight against the resistance, his hole gradually opening up to your thumb as you push it deeper, and only when it easily slides in and out do you add another finger, König beginning to rock back against them as you scissor the digits. Your mouth is dry by the time you can fit three fingers, making sure he’s fully prepared for you, your own cock desperate to be inside him.

Withdrawing your fingers you slide your zipper down, pulling out your cock to rest it in the crevice of his cheeks, König able to feel the heat emanating from your dick. Taking what little moisture is left from your mouth you spit into your hand and slick up your own cock before you press the head against his hole, giving him slow, gentle thrusts as you enter him inch by inch, pushing in and pulling out until he opens up around you.

When you’re finally fully seated inside him you stop your movements, relishing in the heat as he clenches around you, König mewling with impatience as you do nothing other than stroke the skin of his hip. Eventually, he pulls himself away and pushes back onto you, a pleasured moan escaping both of you. “Please move,” he begs.

Slowly you draw all the way out, tip catching on his rim before you slam forward, a harsh slap of skin against skin as your thighs smack against him, König letting out a choked groan. Taking little time to set a harsh pace he’s soon lost in ecstasy, arms barely holding him up as you use him like a toy, grunts and moans escaping into the air.

Fucking into him you search out that sweet spot, the tip of your cock punching in deeper and deeper until on one thrust he wails, body trembling and cock pulsing as he sprays his release across the ground, streaks of white staining the soil underneath him.

You don’t stop, chasing your own orgasm as you continue your thrusts, one arm wrapping around König to wrench him up and hold him to your chest, your free hand gripping his cock, jerking him off as he cries from the stimulation. “Bitte, wait.” With the new angle you thrust in deeper, his hole clenching and pulsing around you, driving you closer and closer to the apex.

“Just a little bit more, I’m close,” you groan, rapidly thrusting into his hole, cock bullying against his prostate. “Where do you want it?”

“I-inside,” he hiccups, one of his arms ensnaring your neck to hold you close as the other rests on the one jerking his cock.

It takes just a few more thrusts to come undone, a hoarse snarl tearing from your throat as you unload inside König, your cock shooting rope after rope into his hole as it milks you for everything you have. The feeling of you cumming inside pushes König into another orgasm, a smaller spurt of cum erupting from his cock and joining his previous load on the floor. Your hips give small, shaky thrusts as you fill him up, a ring of white forming around his rim as your cum starts leaking out and back down along your cock.

Time is lost as you both stay like that, holding each other close, trying to swallow down oxygen as pleasure bursts through your veins. Once your senses rush back to you, you gently lower König to rest on his arms, the man unable to remain sitting up, and slowly pull out, cum immediately seeping from his hole and you quickly tuck yourself away at the risk of becoming hard again as you fight to tear your eyes away.

König takes longer to recover, only doing so when you finally speak up. “König?” He barely hums in acknowledgement. “You have to get up, big guy.” He grunts, mind still hazy with pleasure. There’s not much you can do about the current mess of his hole so you pull his underwear and pants back up over his ass, tucking his cock back in and adjusting them so they look as normal as possible.

“I don’t think I can move,” he grumbles, and you bite back the bark of laughter threatening to erupt.

“Here,” you offer, moving to his front and offering your hands to help him up. He takes them, relying on you to drag him up and without asking, you place a supportive arm around his waist, tucking him into your side as you walk back together. The walk is uncomfortable, cum oozing out of his hole with every step, something he makes known.

“I need a shower,” he states, gait becoming awkward as he tries to find the walk most comfortable.

You hum in agreement, arm tightening around his waist. “How about I help clean you up?”

#König #König x male reader #call of duty #top male reader #elijahs oneshots #lieutnts writings #male reader #top reader

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mockerycrow · 11 months

Note

"I thought we were past this," with foap please 🫶

400 Follower Celebration

—“I thought we were past this.”— With John “Soap” MacTavish

Summary: Johnny ended up getting an eye infection and swears up and down he doesn’t have any issues with stuff near his eyes. spoiler alert: he does!

[WARNINGS: none, fluff.]

The alarm on your phone ringed out as it hit 8:00 AM and luckily for you, you were already awake. Your phone is vibrating angrily on the kitchen counter as you make breakfast for you and your boyfriend Johnny, who’s currently bundled up in blankets on your shared couch, sporting two infected eyes.

“John, it’s time for your eye drops!” You call out, tapping the “stop” button on your phone, ceasing the vibrations that nearly causes your phone to topple over the edge.

You wait for a response or for his footsteps, but you hear nothing. “Did’ya hear me?” You say a bit louder, using the tongs to flip the bacon on the pan. You again listen for signs of life over the grease popping noise coming from the pan, and you sigh. “I swear to god.” You mutter, turning the burner down to a low temperature.

You put the tongs on the paper towel covered plate and you quickly make your way from your kitchen, through your dining room, and you find yourself in Johnny’s last known location; but he isn’t there. You groan, finding his favorite blue blanket abandoned on the couch, along with his tissues and the TV remote.

You can’t help but laugh a little bit because the thing that provoked this reaction is eyedrops. Your loud-mouthed, competitive and cocky boyfriend runs scared from eyedrops. Your boyfriend who is quite literally in an elite task force, your boyfriend who is a trained goddamn sniper and demolitions expert. “I thought we were past this!” You shout, scanning the room with your eyes.

You knew he could be sneaky when he wanted to be, but you’ve been with him long enough to know his regular hiding spots and the spaces he thought you didn’t know about, but of course you do.

So, there began your search. You searched behind the curtain of the living room, you searched the bathroom, behind the shower curtain and all, the hallway closet that stored a variety of things, everything. Yet you could not find him. You sigh, nearly giving up to just text him, you have an idea. You didn’t check the garage.

You grab the eyedrops and walk down the hall and you open the garage door that’s connected to the house. You flip the light switch on and you find Johnny fucking hiding in the car. He looks at you with a deer in headlights look through the window and you burst out laughing, a harsh wheeze being ripped from your lungs. He fucking hid in the car?? “I- Alright, oookaayy Johnny,” You giggle, trying to open the car door but finding it’s locked. “Get out of the car so we can get this over with.”

“Over my dead body!” He yells, muffled but you can still hear his thick accent clear as day.

You sigh and enter the house and for a moment, Johnny thinks he’s safe—until he hears the car doors unlock.

He forgot this is also your car.

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alotofpockets · 6 months

Text

I'll follow you everywhere | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You’re on the run with your wife Natasha, when she receives a small box with red vials with a picture of a young Natasha and Yelena attached.

Warnings: Scenes from Black Widow used. Weapons, wounds, explosives, and a car crash. A/n: This is a repost from one of my old accounts.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 2.3K

You were browsing the shelves of the local supermarket in the small town in Norway where your current safe house was located. Natasha and the rest of the Avengers that weren’t already arrested were on the run. As her wife you weren’t letting her go on her own. You offered to go into town on your first night to get some food and other necessities as the chances of you getting recognized were way smaller than her being recognized by the locals, as her picture amongst those of the other rogue Avengers were shown on the news all over the world.

With all the supplies, you drive back to the trailer. You carry the bags inside and are met with Natasha staring at a box with something glowing inside of it. “What’s that?” You ask, oblivious to the contents of the box. Natasha turns around holding out a picture. You step closer to take a look at the photobooth picture in her hand, there are two young girls hugging, both wearing big smiles on their faces. You recognize a young Natasha, but don’t recognize the younger blonde girl. “Yelena?” You question. Natasha had told you about her sister, but you’d never seen a picture of the girl.

Natasha nods her head, eyes wide. “She’s in trouble y/n, I need to go to Budapest. I need to help her.” Natasha turns around, and starts putting on her shoes, while you grab a bag and put some clothes from the both of you in it. “What are you doing?” Natasha asks. “I’m grabbing some clothes.” You say with a confused look on your face, thinking it was obvious what you were doing. “I know that, I mean why are you packing your clothes?”

Once again you’re confused, “Because I’ll need clothes to wear too?” Natasha’s confusion clears as she realizes what’s going on. “Baby, you can’t go with me. I don’t know what’s out there. It’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you getting hurt.”

“Darling, I’m coming with you, whether it’s dangerous or not. The day I married you, I promised you in my vows that I would always follow you everywhere. I intend on keeping that promise, so I’m coming with you. You don’t have to do this alone.” Natasha knows there is no use for arguing with you when you’ve already made up your mind, so she lets you continue packing. Within an hour you’ve made it to the train station, boarding the train to Budapest.

When you got to the safe house Natasha told you to wait outside while she tried prying the lock of the door open. A voice from within the apartment was heard, “I know you’re out there.” Natasha took a big sigh, unlocking the lock and grabbing her gun. “I know you know I’m out here.” She responds, before opening the door.

It stayed quiet on the other side of the door while you waited patiently for Natasha to deem the apartment safe for you to enter. You knew it must be weird for her to see Yelena again, especially because it had been so long since they had seen each other. Natasha didn’t even know if she could trust her. You understood that, so you waited. The quietness was interrupted by the sound of things slamming into walls. Natasha was the strongest person and most skilled fighter you knew, you know she could handle herself. Nonetheless you were worried.

The sounds kept getting louder and louder. You were trying to focus on Natasha’s voice to hear if she was okay. Until you notice a red dot appear on your chest. You weren’t trained on any of this, but you knew that a red dot is most likely a sniper rifle pointing at you. Without thinking you opened the door to the safe house and walked into the room. You turn around to see Natasha and Yelena laying on the floor out of breath, with a white curtain laying around them.

As soon as Yelena sees you in the corner of her eyes, she reaches for her gun and points it at you, “Don’t move.” She says to you, then she turns to Natasha, “You said truce, what is this?” Natasha is quick to answer. “Easy, Yelena, that’s my wife.” Yelena slowly lowers the weapon while repeating the word, “Wife?”

You interrupt the conversation, “Yes, wife. No time for further explanation. There are snipers on the roof, one was aiming at me just a second ago out in the hall.” Natasha stands up quickly, moving in between you and the window.

"Stay on my hip." Natasha tells you as she moves away from the window. Always standing in between you and the outside wall. The three of you move into a backroom where Yelena grabs the box of red vials and some ammo for her gun. "Come on, we can get on the roof from the window."

As she opens the window, the front door is kicked in. "Go, I'll be right behind you." Yelena says while running back in. Natasha climbs out of the window and helps you out as well. Yelena comes running towards the window, followed by a large explosion. "The switch, good thinking." Natasha compliments her sister.

"Where are we going?" Natasha asks. "West side, I have a motorcycle there but it won't fit us all." - "Lead the way, we'll see when we get there." Yelena starts running and Natasha nudges you to follow Yelena. She makes sure you're in between them at all times. Especially because two widows were following you. You had some distance on them, but as long as they were carrying weapons, distance didn't mean safety.

You got to the motorcycle, and there is no way it's going to fit three. Yelena grabs her gun and stops a nearby car, "Get out." She yells pointing the gun at the driver. He walks out with his hands up. Yelena gets behind the wheel but Natasha is quick to tell her to move over to the passenger seat and tells you to get in the back.

Natasha starts driving away, but you're quickly followed by widows on motorcycles, shooting at the car. “Duck.” They say in unison as the back window is about to break. Luckily you are quick to respond and none of you get hurt.

You're driving around like maniacs. Yelena was basically hanging out of the window and now the car was missing a door, but at least it took one of the widows out. All of a sudden the rest of the widows disappeared, which none of you saw as a good sign.

Your instincts were right. An armored car makes its way around the corner. When it starts picking up speed it just crashes right into the cars of the oncoming traffic and parked cars. And if it wasn't scary enough, the roof of the car opened and a fully armored person appeared with a bow and arrow. When you realized it wasn't just any arrow being aimed at you, but an explosive one it was already too late.

The arrow exploded and the car was pushed into the air. It rolled a couple of times before landing upside down into a train station entry. Natasha was quick to get out of the car and pulled you and Yelena out. Since Yelena had no door on her side anymore something had cut her arm open, but other than that none of you were injured.

Natasha quickly tied a scarf around Yelena’s arm, because you had to move. There was no way this armored assassin or the widows were going to give up any time soon. Natasha led you all to a place she once hid with Clint, where you hid out as you saw them walking right past your location.

For Natasha and Yelena this was part of their jobs, so they had gotten used to the rush and adrenaline that came with being chased. That wasn't the case for you though. When you made it into the airshaft your adrenaline started slowly fading, making you realize just how crazy this was. Natasha was quick to notice your upcoming panic attack, and came to your aid quickly, she was able to help calm your breathing down before it turned into a full on attack. Once you’re fully calmed down Natasha turns to Yelena, “Who the hell was that?”

“Dreykov’s special project, they can mimic anyone they've ever seen. It’s like fighting a mirror. Dreykov only deploys them for top priority missions.” Natasha’s mind is trying to wrap around what Yelena just told her, “This doesn’t make any sense.” She says. All these years Natasha thought that she had killed Dreykov, but Yelena explained how that wasn’t the case.

After a while the women decided the coast was clear, and left the vents of the train station to get cleaned up. The three of you ended up at a small convenience store and bought some necessities for cleaning wounds, and some painkillers, since the flipping of the car had an effect on all three of you. You took the supplies to a restaurant nearby where Natasha helped Yelena clean up the wound and they talked amongst themselves to catch up.

“Where are you gonna go after this?” Natasha asks after learning that Yelena had been under the influence of Dreykov’s control and was just freed of it recently. “I don’t know.” Yelena answers. “I don’t really have anywhere to go back to. So, I guess anywhere” Nat puts her drink down but before she can say anything Yelena says, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Natasha says. Yelena laughs, “Oh, you’re going to give me some big hero speech, I can feel it.” Both you and Natasha laugh at that. “Speeches aren’t really her thing.” You share with Yelena letting her in on the look shared between you and your wife. “Exactly, and it was more like an invitation.” Yelena thinks for a moment, “To go to the Red Room and kill Dreykov, even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?” Natasha smirks before saying, “Yeah.”

“That sounds like a shitload of work.” Yelena points out. “Yup, it could be fun though.” Natasha adds and Yelena agrees. “You saw where he put the keys?” These two were truly on the same wavelength you realized as Yelena answered, “Top drawer, green cabinet.” And with that you were on the road. Natasha called Rick Mason, the contractor she regularly worked with that she needed a jet. When you arrived at the agreed location a shitty old broken down helicopter stood on the field.

“I said we needed a jet.” Natasha says as Rick walks out of the helicopter. “Yeah and you know what you didn’t give me? Time or money. I am not made of jets.” He was funny, just like Yelena said, you could see why Nat would keep working with him. Rick showed all the supplies that Natasha asked for before Natasha turned to you.

“Darling, I know what you said before and I very much appreciate you for sticking to the vows and following me everywhere, but this is as far as I will allow you to come along on this journey, okay? This is going to be a very dangerous mission and I am not able to keep the promise I made to you in our vows, the promise to always keep you safe. With Dreykov in the picture, I cannot risk it, which is why I asked Rick to take you to a safe house for the time being.” You told her it was okay and that you understood, you thought today had been scary enough and you were for sure not built or trained to live that kind of life. You would only hold them back, and you realized that in this situation that could cost you not only your life but also theirs.

You hugged Natasha for a long time before letting go and walking over to Yelena. “I never expected these to be the circumstances that I would meet my sister in law, but nonetheless it was a pleasure meeting you, Yelena. Please keep her safe, I really need her to come back to me.” Yelena put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “I will.”

The two of you joined back with Nat and Rick. Before they got on the helicopter you said, “Oh, and, Yelena, you will always have a place to go to with me and Nat. We might be on the run at the moment too, but you are more than welcome to join us.” With an appreciative nod Yelena entered the helicopter and after Natasha sent you a reassuring smile she did as well. Rick led you to the car and drove you to the safe house he had arranged for you.

It had been a couple of days and you had started to settle in when you heard a knock on your door. At first it scared you, but your worries eased when you heard a familiar voice, “Baby, it’s okay, it’s me.” You practically ran to the door, opening it to see a couple more people than just Natasha.

Natasha ushered everyone inside and hugged you tight, she was relieved to know you were okay. When she stepped back Yelena gave you a small hug too, “I promised I’d keep her safe.” She whispers in your ear. Then Natasha introduced you to the two unfamiliar faces. “Darling, these are Alexei and Melina, they are my parents. Remember the family I told you about from Ohio?” You nodded. “Alexei, Melina, this is my wife, y/n.” You held out your hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Can I get anyone something? You all look like you could use some food.”

“That would be wonderful, sweetheart.” Melina says. “And some vodka!” Alexei adds, which makes everyone laugh. You prepare a meal for the family as you watch Natasha with them. You smile at how happy she looks, she never had any family besides the Avengers, this is what she had always wanted. And this might not be your house, but with everyone surrounding the table it felt like home.

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sinkovia · 1 month

Text

Nsfw, smut, 18+

Konig x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

From the moment you joined Kortac, there was an unmistakable tension between you and Konig. It was as if the two of you were oil and water, never mixing, always repelling. You had a habit of picking fights with him, trying to one-up each other at every turn. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but you were convinced that he was jealous of you, specifically because you were a sniper.

You both stood on the training ground, watching your teammates spar with one another, Konig muttered something under his breath that caught your attention. "I could pin you in less than 30 seconds," he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You scoffed and turned to face him, your gaze locked onto his. "Why don't we test it then?"

Konig, a towering figure compared to your own stature, looked down at you. He scoffed as he extended his arm out towards the mat, silently inviting you to step onto it, ready to settle the score once and for all.

The tension in the air was thick as you and Konig engaged in your sparring match. He had issued the challenge, claiming he could pin you in less than 30 seconds, but you weren't about to let him prove that point without a fight.

Your movements were quick and agile, easily evading his attempts to take you down. With every dodge and counter, you managed to stay one step ahead of him. You could see the frustration growing in his eyes as he struggled to get a grip on you.

"What happened? I thought you were going to take me down in less than 30 seconds?" you taunted, your voice laced with a mischievous edge.

In a sudden burst of strength and determination, Konig managed to grab you by the waist, with a powerful move, he threw you down onto the mat, and in an instant, he was on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight.

Both of you were breathing heavily, the intensity of the spar taking its toll. König held your arms down, and you were doing your best to catch your breath, feeling the weight of the situation. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you gazed up at Konig, your eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement.

"Do you always get this hard when you pin your teammates down, or am I just special?" you quipped, your tone playfully suggestive.

Konig's confusion transformed into a mix of surprise and shock, his expression momentarily caught off guard by your unexpected response. He quickly looked down between his legs, his hard length was pressed against your inner thigh.

His eyes grew wide and he quickly got off of you and left the sparing room without saying a word to you. You got up and made your way to your room, you passed by konigs door. Your captain had the liberty of putting you in rooms next to each other thinking it would help you get along.

You lock the door behind you and you lay down on your bed, you couldn't ignore the heat that was pooling between your legs. Your body shuttered as it remembered the way his length pressed against you, he was big. You curse under your breath as you begin to undo your cargo pants. Your fingers moving through your folds, you lean your head back against your pillows as you rub small circles on your clit.

Konig sat against his bed, his breaths coming out airy as his hands moved up and down his shaft, he let out soft curses as his hand moved. His mind couldnt escape the thought of you pined beneath him, your eyes looking up at him. He closed his eyes as he pictured you bouncing on his dick, moaning his name.

You quicken your pace, rubbing small circles continuously over your aching clit. You close your eyes and shove two fingers inside you, imagining it was konig thrusting himself inside. You moan out his name.

Konig froze as he faintly heard your voice, he could have sworn you said his name. His mind was playing tricks on him. His hand began moving when he heard you again, this time louder. He couldn't mistake it this time, you groaned out his name. He scooted closer to the wall putting his ear against the wall.

He heard your muffled moans, profanities escaping your lips. He heard his name roll off your tongue, he loved how breathy and needy you sounded. His tip leaked with precum as he listened to you pleasure yourself, wishing it was him. He smiled to himself as he pulled his cargos back up and made his way toward your room.

You heard a knock on your door and you groaned out, "Who is it?" you were met with silence and you cursed under your breath, pulling your cargos back up. You walked up to the door and opened it, Konig pushed himself in. His hand pressing over your mouth as he quickly spun you and pinned you against the door.

With his free hand, he reached over and slowly locked the door, his eyes never leaving yours. Your wide eyes stared up at him, they grew even wider as he took your hand and brought it up under his veil. You tried to pull your hand away but he was stronger. You felt his tongue dance around your fingers, your slick still covered them. The heat between your legs began to pool again as you felt him clean your fingers. He leaned down so his mouth was directly against your ear.

"The walls are very thin."

In one swift movement, he carried you over to the bed and threw you on it. You guys wasted no time in getting undressed. He rested your legs on his shoulders as his tongue danced across your folds, you moaned out, the contact sending chills throughout your body. His mouth found comfort in your dripping hole, slurping all your sweet juices, before sliding the thick muscle of his tongue in.

His hand moved from your thighs to your heat, letting two fingers abuse your tender clit. Your knuckles were turning white from the tight grip you had on the sheets. His tongue was exploring the wet walls of your cunt, and his eyes stared up at you watching every reaction he was eliciting from you. The way your brows furrowed, the way you squirmed under his touch.

"F-Fuck Konig" you moaned. You felt every curve of his fingers as he stroked in and out of you.

He whined as he heard you moan his name. The vibrations on your clit sent shockwaves through your core as your walls tightened around his fingers. Your legs shook as his digits stretched you out more than your own fingers ever could. His arousal was beginning to hurt, he felt himself getting harder by the second. If that was even possible.

He quickly flips you over so you're lying on your stomach, he reaches his hand under you and lifts your ass up. His tip was running along your folds, lubing his cock with your slick. He pressed against your back forcing your chest closer to the bed and pushing your ass higher in the air. Without warning, he thrusts his entire length into your achy needy cunt. He felt your walls pulse around him and he threw his head back.

"Ah fuck Y/n"

Your wetness provided him all he needed to stretch you out. You gasped feeling how deep he was penetrating you. He groaned out profanities in German as he bottomed out. Slowly sliding out and thrusting inside you quicker than before. You let out a string of curses as you move your hips back against him, causing him to push against your soft gummy cervix.

He picked up his pace, fucking you into the bed at an ungodly pace. You were a moaning mess, the pillow catching each one. Konig grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled your head back, he wanted to hear you. He wanted to relish every sound that left your lips.

He wrapped his hand around your neck as he lowered his chest against your back. He fucked you quick, his breath fanned against your ear and you felt your coil begin to tighten.

"Konig please, I'm so close." You cried out and it nearly sent konig over the edge, how needy you sounded for him. He let go of your hair and his hands went to your waist, the grip he had on you was surely going to bruise. He drove himself into you at a maddening pace, his cock ramming into you over and over again. He could feel your walls fluttering as you were nearing your climax and carrying him along with it.

"Scheiße i'm gonna cum."

You felt his dick pulsating against your walls, this was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes, the intense waves of maddening pleasure completely overwhelming you.

The feeling of you pulsating around his cock threw Konig over the edge, with one last deep thrust, he went over the edge. His hips slowly rocking against you, milking every ounce of cum into you. He slumped down next to you, his breathing matching your labored ones.

"If I knew how good you were in bed I would have asked captain to move our rooms together sooner." Konig moves his head to the side so he was looking at you.

"You asked captain to move our rooms?" You smile and nod your head.

"How long have you been touching yourself wishing it was me?" You let out a small laugh, turning to the side to face him.

"Since I joined."

Konigs laugh echoed throughout the room.

"Me too."

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