#and then soap is bumping into him in the corridor and smiling up at him with the power of the fucking sun and wow ghost is in love fuck

[natelia-aldelliz]

Ghost after meeting Soap.

Price : Have you slept?

Ghost : Depends what day it is

Price : Go to bed.

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #captain john price #implied ghostsoap #implied soapghost #ghost is a catboy by the way #Soap is more complicated because he's a cat person and doesn't like dogs but also he's very dogboy leaning personality wise #dad price for the win even if he's only old enough to be big brother price; he's 50 spiritually according to his 'kids' #price would be like 'ok do you want to talk about it?' #and ghost would look at him like 'what do you mean “talk about it” what happened to bottle it up like normal people?' #“i'll just forget all about it” ghost tells himself #and then soap is bumping into him in the corridor and smiling up at him with the power of the fucking sun and wow ghost is in love fuck #i was supposed to draw something for valentine's day but my brain was all no : funny scene first but now it's 9:30 am and i haven't slept #maybe expect something for valentine's day at some point - probably not today tho but like at some point this week maybe ?

[arachine]

. . . tender wounds & soft kisses (won't you stay?) ; i. midoriya

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis :: trouble comes knocking on your doorstep seeking salvation. the question is, do you answer it?

── ˚₊✩‧₊ general tags :: pro!hero au, angst, fluff

── ˚₊✩‧₊ content warnings :: fem!reader, mentions of blood + death but nothing explicit, reader patches his wounds, intense feelings, making out, 3k words

── ˚₊✩‧₊ notes :: part one of two (?) of a future mini series :3 next part will include filth pinky promise !

it doesn’t matter how many times he shows up at your door like this—battered and bruised, that is. you’ll never get used to it. you want to turn him away, to tell him he’d have better luck going to a hospital—but—it’s half past midnight, and it’s cold, and it’s raining, and…he doesn’t know where else to go. 

he knows you’re tired. can see it in the way you lean your head against the door frame, and the way you blink up at him with indifference, as if your eyes are telling him “come in now or i’ll leave you out in the cold”.  

with an appreciative smile, he enters through the door and brushes past you. takes his heavy, muddy boots off, one by one, and leaves them to sit in the foyer where they contrast starkly against your pristine-perfect ones. 

it’s a sight that’s starting to become all too familiar to you. sometimes it looks like there’s another person living here, like there’s someone to share the space with, but you know his presence is only ephemeral. you’d wish it weren’t, though. especially since he already knew the floor plan of your apartment like the back of his hand. 

even in the pitch-black dark, his steps are confident. calculated. familiar. he dredges down the corridor with impressive precision, and yields absolutely no qualms of bumping into your many awkwardly placed pieces of furniture. doesn’t even trip over the new coffee table you recently purchased. because instead of him doing the bumping and tripping, you do.

izuku comes to a sudden standstill in the middle of the living room, and you walk right into his back, knocking him forward a bit from the force.

“what’s wrong?” you question, trying not to let yourself sound too concerned, but it comes out more tender than anything. he breathes out a quick nothing, and continues the trek to your bathroom, wincing through gritted teeth while clutching his side. 

if he’s in pain, he won’t say it. which is another reason why you’ve come to resent his spontaneous fix-me-up visits. impatiently, you side step by him and rush to the bathroom. turn on the light and stand at the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest, like you were practically urging him to quicken his pace so he could be out of here faster.

but he takes his time. because despite the sharp-ache in his ribs, and the sting above his brow, he gets to see you. izuku midoriya gets to be touched by you. to be cleaned by you. patched up by you. sinewy muscles and bruised flesh, all taken care of by—you. 

so, yeah. he takes his sweet time getting to the bathroom—even if he’s five steps from getting there. he’ll make it ten. anything to make this last longer. 

“come on, i’m tired,” you say, turning on your heels to open the cabinet. “i’d like to get back into my comfy bed as soon as possible.” 

when you take a look inside the cabinet, you frown at the shortage of supplies you’re met with. which, honestly, shouldn’t even really surprise you—considering he was the one responsible for its barren state. 

regardless, you pluck what you can of what’s left, then set them down on the counter in the order of which you’ll use them: clean rag, soap, ointment, steri-strips, and gauze (in case there’s a bigger wound somewhere under his tattered clothes). 

from your peripheral, you can see his silhouette appear from out of the darkness, and you watch intently through the mirror as his now fully-illuminated body trudges behind you. god, he looks worse than he did standing under the light of your front porch. 

well, that’s what you think. prior, a good portion of his face had been enshrouded by night, so you couldn’t really make out anything worth noting—even if you wanted to, at least.

but now you bear witness to the hues of red that dance across his face; both from the inflamed capillaries underneath his skin, and the blood ribboning down the gash above his brow. 

“you know the drill.” your gaze is pointed, and you eye him through the mirror while dousing the rag under the warm running water. 

he comes to a halt in front of the toilet, grimacing once, then clutches his side protectively before bending down to sit. you note that too. 

“so…” a beat. “you gonna need help taking that off? or—“

“i’ve got it,” the green haired boy quips, moving to retract his arm from his side. 

you throw your hands up in defeat, and reposition yourself to lean against the sink’s ledge. your eyes trace every movement, and you watch amusedly as he pathetically struggles to remove his gloves, but eventually achieves. 

next, he attempts to tackle his zipper. a grimace. then, he attempts it again, only to withdraw in pain. 

“let me do it,” impatience on the tip of your tongue. you lunge forward to unzip the damn thing yourself because you can’t bear to watch any longer, small hand swatting his much larger one away. 

dropping to your knees, you sit between his legs and zip it down until the entirety of his torso is revealed. a solemn frown settles on your lips, and it takes everything in you to not shed a tear. 

gathering your wits, you continue undressing him, gently pulling each arm from its consecutive sleeve, before moving to unclasp the mask tugged down his neck.

“i hate when you do that,” your voice speaks up, replacing the unpleasant silence. there’s evident irritation laced in it, and he can’t help but to wince from the way it pulls his heart strings. 

“when i do what?” you take a brief moment before answering him. busy yourself with the loose thread hanging on the side of his leg pant, tug on it until you snap it off. “when you pretend you’re not in pain.” 

izuku sighs through his nose, something long and heavy. “i’m sorry,” he attempts at an apology, though he knows he’d have better luck convincing someone else who wasn’t accustomed to seeing him like this. 

“no you’re not, otherwise you’d stop waking me up in the middle of the night to tend to your wounds.” there it is. that venomous tongue of yours, the one that doesn’t hold back in telling him what he needs to hear. he can’t even counter it—so he takes it. leans back into the cool porcelain of the tank, and watches as you walk away to the sink, only to return with a stool and rag in tow. 

for a minute, you mull over which area of skin to tackle first, until you decide on prioritizing his torso. you take the damp rag and run it along the perimeter of his wound where there’s a culmination of dried blood and fresh red. his abs flex in response to the sensation, a sharp intake of breath.

“sorry,” you mutter without looking at him, eyes focused and hands working diligently between swipes. 

“nope, ‘m fine.”

“liar.”

“yeah,” he breathes. 

“how’d you get this one, huh? oh, wait, let me guess. off doing god knows what, at god knows where, chasing after some guy you’re not even authorized to be chasing.” 

you rise up from your seat to dispose of the rag, grabbing the remaining items on the counter. “did i get any of that right?”

izuku laughs, a small admittance. “i don’t think i’m at liberty to say.” 

scoffing, you plop back down in front of him, and carefully, begin cleaning the inside of the wound with a damp piece of gauze. every now and then, you check his face to gauge for any pain, but his relaxed expression is unfaltering. because he’s looking down at you with so much warmth it’s scalding.

his gaze feels like a thousand little pricks, makes you shiver from the intensity, and you silently pray he doesn’t catch it. though, it’s really wishful thinking on your part. he noticed most things, was just in his nature.

“what are you looking at?” all bite. his eyes shift from your face to the tiled floor. suddenly, the grout was starting too look interesting, in fact, when’s the last time you touched it u—

“n-nothing,” he stutters, warmth spreading across his face to the tips of his ears. 

“so weird…” your eyes flit up once, before refocusing on covering the wound in clean, dry gauze. 

in juxtaposition to your jagged edged words, you’re so gentle. delicate in everything you do, but especially so, when you’re handling him. it’s something that he’s come to find massively endearing, and he hates that the only time he’s a recipient of your attentiveness, is when he shows up at your door all bloodied and bruised. 

“shit, uh, can you hold this in place for a second? gonna get some tape.” 

izuku nods in compliance. follows with trained eyes as your frame disappears into the dark. then, the sound of a flicker follows suit shortly after, and the light—from what he presumes to be your room—illuminates the rest of the hallway. 

in the distance, he can hear the soft thud of feet padding back and forth between rooms, and can just about isolate the cacophonous sound of drawers opening and closing, along with muttered obscenities. 

the impending sound of footsteps announces your return, and you take your seat between his legs, this time with a roll of tape in tow. 

“and,” you drawl, “done. now let me look at that nasty gash on your face.” 

he scoots closer to the edge to give you a better look, and the pair of your knees knock together. neither of you acknowledge it, nor do you make an effort to move. the proximity has him reeling, but you seemingly remain indifferent. 

reaching up, you take hold of his chin and maneuver him intermittently as you prod and poke at the open flesh. suddenly, a feeling of sadness washes over you upon the realization that one day he might not even make it to your doorstep. that maybe this will be the last time you hold his beautiful face in your hands. that this will be the last time those kind, green eyes look up at you. the reality of the situation is that every day may very well be his last. 

when you stop your ministrations, he knows something’s up. “what is it? what’s wrong?” the intonation in his voice rising, displaying the sincerity of his concern. a calloused hand finds solace on the side of your cheek, and you careen into its warmth. 

“i don’t…i don’t know how many times i can keep seeing you like this,” you admit, voice straining at the effort it takes to quell your tears. 

izuku brings a second hand up to your face, cradles it in his calloused palms. swipes his thumbs soothingly over the apples of your cheeks and shushes you before a sob can erupt from your throat. 

“nonono, don’t get yourself all upset over me.”

“how can i not ‘zu?!”

“‘cause ‘m not worth it,” he spits, and it almost scares you how much he believes in the veracity of his statement. 

“‘not worth it’…” you repeat, “if you weren’t worth it, i wouldn’t let you keep coming back into my house. i wouldn’t patch you up…wouldn’t let you keep making me feel like this.”

“i’m sor—“

“don’t you fucking dare say sorry,” you get up abruptly, releasing yourself from his grasp. “god, you make me—you make me fucking crazy! can’t you see?” your hands go to reach the ledge of the sink, and you rock back and forth on anxious heels. 

forgetting the ache in his side, the pro-hero rises to his feet. he lets his weakened legs drag him to where you stand. your head is down, and your arms are out-stretched to support your weight. he can’t see your face, but he hears the beginnings of a sob. 

thoughts race through his mind a mile a minute. what should i do? he thinks. how can he console you? should he touch you? hold you? but what if you don’t want to be touched? he racks his brain for an answer, to no avail.  

for a while, he just stands there—because in the short distance he traveled, he didn’t really think of a plan. just acted on impulse. but then he sees a big cartoonish teardrop land on the counter and he loses it. 

unthinking, the greenette takes you into his hold. slots himself behind you like a puzzle piece and wraps you up, one arm across your chest, and the other over your middle. the sudden contact surprises you, but you make no contests. instead, you find yourself relaxing into his grip, and he takes that as a silent confirmation to squeeze you further into his embrace. 

“don’t cry,” izuku whispers into the interstice of your neck, “can’t bear it. don’t like it.” you raise your head to lay against his chest, and wrap your fingers around his forearm. his body radiates a warmth that you find wildly comforting. it’s intoxicating, almost. and now that you’ve had a taste of it, you’re not quite sure you’d be able to let go. 

but while the feeling is nice, it’s also equal parts scary and debilitating. because you weren’t a couple. you weren’t temporary lovers. you weren’t…anything, and yet—you fit like one. and that was scary. terrifying. 

it scared you how much space this person took up in your life; how little he gave in return, and how much of your heart belonged to him. and the worst part of it all? how scared he was to trust you with a scintilla of his. of all the years you’ve known izuku midoriya, this is the coldest you’ve known him to be. 

“alright, i’m better now. you can let go,” you speak, though the words that escape your lips directly conflict with what you really feel. 

don’t let go. don’t let go. hold me a little longer, please. 

reluctantly, the bigger man releases you from his firm grasp. he holds your gaze through the mirror, waits for you to start the conversation—which your eyes seem to have already started, because he swears that right now, they’re singing a song of sorrow.

“be honest with me, please. don’t you think i deserve that much?”

suddenly, the pain in his ribs throbs. his forehead falls to rest on your shoulder. he’s stalling. biding his time so that he can come up with an answer. 

“of course you do, you deserve the truth and so much more. but…”

“but,” you repeat plainly, because of course there’s a but. 

“—but there’s things that i just can’t tell you. and i know it sucks, and i know it sounds like a bunch of bullshit, but if something were to ever happen to you because of the information you knew, i literally wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” the words flow from his lips hurriedly, like if he doesn’t get it all out now, they’ll detonate inside of him. 

“you gotta just give me this, please, baby.” 

baby. 

babybabybaby. he called you…baby. your eyes widen like saucers at the pet name, and then it dawns on him that he let it slip through a fit of passion. 

“baby? uh, pft, i meant…” he tries to recant the part in his spiel that he let slip out, nervously scratching the back of his freckled neck. 

“i hate you.” a lie. but it sounds right to say, even though there’s no real weight behind it. still, how dare he? how dare he make you go years thinking your feelings were unrequited? how dare he fucking steal your heart again with one little word, two syllables, and four letters? 

izuku smirks. if you had uttered these words to him when he was still young and unsure of himself, he’d believe you. but he doesn’t—because he knows you. knows that your venomous tongue lacks potency. and he knows that your heart is reserved for him, always has been—even if his negligence almost cost him you. 

“you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly, viridian irises soft, staring back at you. 

“i do.” unceremoniously, two large hands grab your waist. they turn you around with uncharacteristic speed, pin you against the sink and leave you with no exit. a gasp bubbles in your throat. 

“okay, then say it to my face, “ izuku leans forward, strong arms encasing you between his chest and the sink he holds. his neck tilts downward so that he’s looking into your eyes, and god, he’s so big. so imposing, takes up too much space. too much. 

“tell me you hate me, and i’ll stop doing…this. i’ll get out of your hair for good.”

any and all semblance of composure you had up until that point, dissipates into thin air right then and there. your eyes squint into slits because he fucking proved you right. you were too much of a coward to say it, but on the off-chance that you did, he’d see right through you. one thing you hate more than being proven wrong, is feeling like you have no control over things.

things like izuku. he made your head all foggy with just a glance, and your stomach knotted up with an utter of your name. but this? god, you couldn’t handle this. the proximity, the intimacy of your rather compromising position, the intensity of his gaze, or the way his breath kissed the curve of your jaw. he was everywhere, all the time. omnipotent. 

“you’re right,” you admit with a huff, acquiescing to his boyish-grin. your admission has him lurching forward, inching closer, and closer to the pair of roseate lips pouting up at him so prettily (that they might as well be an open invitation for him to kiss you).

“i’m right.” 

you find yourself initiating a game of cat and mouse. every time he moves in, you move out. it’s so silly. makes you feel like a love-sick school girl waiting by the lockers to give her crush a handwritten note. but you’re relishing in it; and so is he, admittedly more so than you. 

with every passing second, you become less and less aware of your surroundings. all you know is that your lips are moving in tandem, hovering over the other, open-mouthed and panting. you want him. you want to taste him, to bite him, to give him another wound that will turn into a pretty pearl-grey scar amongst the rest. 

your desire for him is carnal, but you play this little game like time is infinite. and you suppose, time can be anything you want it to be when you’re encased between his body.

just as he’s about to close the gap, you whisper a plea into his ear. “promise me,” your voice is breathy, wanting, but still firm. his lips dip down to your neck, and he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss into the divot of your clavicle. trails upwards as he pops up to answer you.

“i’ll promise you a hundred things, i’ll - i’ll promise you whatever you want.” 

“promise me you’ll start being careful,” you say breathless, “that i won’t see your name as a headline on the news.” 

“i promise,” he delves back into your neck, repeating it like a mantra along the vein of your jugular until he kisses his way up to your lips. there’s a brief pause initiated by you when your hand pushes back his chest.

a look of confusion overtakes his features, and you’re looking at him with nervous eyes. are we really about to do this? they say. are we really about to cross that threshold? like you haven’t already done that and more within the span of ten minutes. but you need the reassurance, to be told that everything after this will be okay.

yes, his say. it’s fine. you can trust me.

you felt again the rush of helplessness, the push and pull of the current; until, finally, you let it sink you. he kisses you gently, delicately, then with a swift gradation of intensity that has you whimpering into his mouth. 

“hate you,” a kiss, “for making me,” another, “wait so - mmf - long,” you try to speak between clashes of teeth and tongue, smoothing your arms up his exposed chest before encircling them around his neck.

“i know, baby, i’m terrible,” he breaks away to suckle your neck, “i’m the worst.”

“the worst,” you agree. suddenly, you start to understand why people say kissing is like melting, because every part of your body he touches, has you dissolving rapidly into sea-foam. you’re so hot and bothered, you don’t even know what to do with your hands. 

they were around his neck at some point, but now they’re roaming freely. over his chest, his biceps, down his back, in his hair—on his face. maybe you’ve traveled too far, because the sound it elicits from him is teetering the border between pain and pleasure.

“sorry, did i do that?” you gesture to his brow, which he shields protectively. 

“just a scratch, i can take it,” he reassures, attempting to resume his assault on your collar bone. you grab hold of his chin, redirecting him to look at you.

“just a scratch, huh? well, you’re lucky you got away with just a ‘scratch’.”

© arachine 2023

#:: — LEXI WRITES ! #exposure tags >>> #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya smut #deku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut

[mangowafflesss]

Hi!! I saw your requests were open, and I adore your writing! I was hoping to request a Ghost/Simon x fem!reader (already dating) where the reader is a medic for 141 and they all go out to celebrate after a successful mission, but reader is being bothered at the bar by some rando and ghost gets protective of her? Sorry if that's too specific!

Hello! Don't worry about it being too specific (I actually prefer it so I don't have to think much) I hope you enjoy <3

WARNINGS: Creepy Men, Alcohol, Blood & Violence

You were clearing up the last of your medical equipment before you set off to go get yourself dolled up for tonight. Your week has been so stressful and your boyfriend, Simon Riley, thought it would be nice for you to join them for their post mission drink. You had heard all about the success of it as it was spreading all around the base, people gossiping and whatnot.

You were in the middle of squirting some perfume to your neck when you heard the door behind you open. You turned to see Simon standing there with his usual casual clothes on and surgical mask covering his pretty face. "You ready love?" he was now in front of you and you pulled down the mask to press a quick kiss to his chapped lips "Of course"

The pub was busier than usual and Simon had his arm wrapped around your waist as you navigated around the throng of people who seemed to be apart of a stag do.

The guys practically scared off the people who were sitting in one of the booths and you gave them a quick apology as they fled. "You guys do that every time, its not funny" you try and scold the giggling Soap and Gaz but they just laughed harder at you.

You sat next to Price with Simon sitting to your right on the edge of the booth. Soap and Gaz went to gather some drinks for you guys while you spoke to the higher ranked members of the team.

As time passed, your belly was aching from laughing and your bladder was full, you decided to excuse yourself to go to the toilet. Simon let you passed him with a small hidden tap to your ass, you would make him regret that when you came back.

With a smile you headed for the toilets. When you finished up and opened the door, you failed to see the man who was drunkenly stumbling out of the corridor. His gaze was on your ass as you walked confidently over to the bar to get you and everyone else another round.

"Heyyy gorgeous"

You were leaning on the bar and turned to see this sweaty hideous looking man breathing on you. "You here by yourself?" he asked and you shook your head and pointed over to the group "I'm here with my boyfriend" you state and you were starting to get uncomfortable with how close he was to your body.

Simon drunk the last of his beer and started to wonder where you had gotten to. He looked around the crowded pub and spotted you by the bar with a man who was stroking your hair. You looked severely uncomfortable trying to move away from him but the man just followed.

Anger bubbled up inside of him and stood from his seated position rather abruptly. He marched over to the bar, bumping shoulders with plenty of people who were in his way.

"Look please, your friends are probably nice but I don't want to go with you" Ghost heard you tell the man but he was still being persistent. He grabs onto your waist and Ghost yanks him by the arm and punches him in the nose. "When someone says no they mean it prick"

The man takes a swing and Ghost grabs his arm and twists it painfully which makes you grimace. You watch as Simon drags the man outside and you begin to panic "Simon don't, just let him go" you plead but he doesn't listen and you run over to the table.

"Captain, Simon he took a man outside and I think he's going to seriously hurt him" Price and Soap stand and make for the exit while Gaz stays with you asking you what had happened.

You see them come back inside after a long five minutes and you take his hand into yours "Simon, your hand is bleeding" your medic side kicks in but he just pulls you into a hug with his head nestling into your hair.

"Its not my blood love, don't worry" he breaths out and you sigh while smelling his scent. He was clearly trying to calm himself down as his ragged breaths began to soften.

"You want to go home?" He asked into your ear and you nodded and he let you go while telling the others that you were leaving.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

[mykneeshurt]

Holaaa, I love your writings 😩😫😩😫

I wanted to ask something if you still take requests! You’ve done one with flashing 🍒to the 141 team. Would you like to do one with Alejandro and Rudy? :P

Baha! Of course! Call sign is Bug. Make sure to book your flight to Paris.

Warnings - 18+, implied smut

Sat around the table in the rec room you were playing truth or dare with Soap. The dates were getting more and more insane, Soap knowing you weren’t one to chicken out. That was until he dared you to flash Rudy and Alejandro. ‘Soap. Fuck sake, I can’t do that! Price would have me by the balls!’ Soap shrugged, not feeling particularly kind that night. ‘Ooof sounds to be you might be a bit chicken’ he smirked. Knowing exactly what buttons to push.

‘Fine’ you scoffed ‘I ain’t having you have one up on me. You want me to do it right now?’ Soap nodded, an evil glint in his eyes. Sighing into your hands you laughed, you were going to get in so much trouble. You had always thought they were both insanely attractive though, what better way to get you noticed.

Both of you stalked the halls, keeping your eyes peeled for them both. Rounding the corner in one of the corridors you bumped into Ghost. He peered down at you both ‘I know that look. What are you both up to?’ Both giggling you wormed your way past him and sprinted down the hall shouting ‘nothing L.t! Promise!’ Ghost knew that was bullshit but he wasn’t getting involved.

Eventually you found them both in the shooting range, thank fully it was just those two in there. Shaking off your nerves you flashed Soap an evil glare, ‘No one’s forcing you to do this mInd’ he smiled.

‘You! You’re forcing me! Like fuck will I have you calling me a chicken’ you half whispered, half shouted while poking him in his chest. He gripped your shoulders ‘you got then hen.’

You took a deep breath and entered the shooting range, Rudy and Alejandro were practicing with a new model of Glock that had been purchased. After they had emptied their clips and removed their ear defenders they finally noticed you. ‘Hey bug! Everything ok?’ Rudy asked, a smile spreading across his face. ‘Yeah, everything fine, just wanted to run something by you.’

‘Oh?’ Alejandro muttered from behind Rudy, ‘and what’s that mi amor?’ You shuddered at his words, he meant it in a friendly way but that didn’t stop your panties from becoming wet. You didn’t realise you were staring, feeling frozen to the spot. ‘Bug?’ Rudy asked again, snatching you from the void.

Without even thinking you lifted your top, showing off your supple breasts which were encased in a ruby satin bra. It was a plunge bra, so your tits were pressed together tightly, amplifying your cleavage. You felt your cheeks becoming heated as your heart thumped erratically in your chest.

Rudy’s mouth fell open, his eyes scanning your figure before him, unsure of how to react. Alejandro tensed, his eyes widening at the shape of your tits being pushed together in the satin bra. Both their cocks hardened in their trousers, this little dare had set in motion a chain of events you never thought possible.

As you lowered your top, Alejandro and Rudy exchanged a glance. Speaking a language only they knew. Alejandro approached you placing his hand on your hip, his thumb massaging the fabric covered skin beneath. Rudy walked past you to shut the door to the firing range, locking it. Soap fought to hide a laugh knowing exactly what was about to happen, he’d have to swing past your room later.

#call of duty #cod mw22 #alejandro mw2 #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #rudy x reader #rudy mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #request

[vinxhwrites]

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

[fictionalmenxyn]

Day off

Summary: having no missions to do, besides some training there isn’t much more to do.

F/n- Friends name

Tw:jumping out of plane/aircraft and I believe that’s it.

So today you and the lads plus Layla didn't have any missions. You had a few training sessions buts that's it. Your nickname/code name is Grim Reaper since if someone saw you, they knew they were already dead.

Currently walking down the corridor with your headphones on. You were listening to your favourite playlist. Bopping your head to the rhythm, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped a little and turned around. You saw it was ghost, you smiled and spoke "hey" you paused your music and pulled your headphones around to your neck. He spoke "hey, when's your next training session?" You spoke "uhh I think in a hour or two I was just about to go on a run, why?" He spoke "I'm gunna join you" you smiled and spoke "sounds like a plan" you gave him a fist bump. You and Ghost both grew up together only you two know each others true pasts. You both wore some form of face masks, he wore his skeleton and you wore your half skull mask that was smudged. You did it because of three reasons one to hide your massive scars. Not that you were insecure about it but you just didn't want people asking about how you go them because some of them weren't from the military. Two is because you wanted to hide your Identity from enemy's and also because of your scars it would be quite easy to remember your face. Lastly because if you looked in the mirror long enough you just see your younger self and that was a bad place because of your bad parents and stuff so it would just remind you of childhood.

You were at the start of the track. You spotted ghost walking over, you waved and he copied your movement by waving back. You spoke "ready?" He nodded. You started your watch and you both started your run. Since you both joined the military you both have changed but you both know it was for the better. You both became stronger mentally, physically and emotionally.

After about a solid hour of running ghost spoke "don't you have training soon?" You looked at your watch and spoke "shit.. yeah I do come on I need to get ready" you both went back to your rooms. You quickly showered and changed.

Quickly leaving your room you headed outside. You spotted

F/n and Price outside. Price spoke "ah just in the Nick of time thought we'd leave without you" you spoke "sorry to busy running and lost track off time, no pun intended" he smirked and said "come on let's go" you three walked onto the helicopter and buckled yourselves in. Todays main training is free fall, you loved it since it gave you a feeling as if you were on a roller coaster plus you loved fear. F/n who is also known as Soap's missus, well she has a love hate relationship with the thing. Price spoke "get ready" the door started opening and he spoke "aim towards the astroturf" you shouted of the noise "ok!" Walking towards the opening you looked back at Price. He gave you a thumbs up, you shouted "three.. two.. one!" You grabbed F/n’s hand and you both ran off the platform and you both in the sky. Looking over to F/n you gave her a thumbs up to see is she was alright. She gave you a thumbs up to confirm she was alright. You heard Price over the radio in your ear "pull the cord" you pulled the cord and then so did F/n. You both managed to lad in the AstroTurf. You unclipped your parachute and ran over to F/n. You high-fived each other, you said "you did great" she said "that's because I enjoyed it this time" you said "then enjoy it the next" you smirked and she said "I'll try my best, Reaper" you walked over to your parachute and started packing it back up. You heard Price shout "well done ladies! both did great today!" you spoke "managed to get a few flips in too" me laughed.

Making your way back into the building. You saw most of the men in the break room. You spotted ghost, sat at the table playing cards with Gaz and soap. You looked away then felt eyes on you, instantly knowing it was ghost. You continued walking towards your room. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you placed your vest on your chair and helmet on the desk. You pulled your boots off when you heard the door. You beckoned them in. The door opened revealing ghost. You spoke "hey, love" he closed the door and asked "how'd it go?" You said "good.. good" he nodded his head and slipped his mask off. He laid on your bed. You spoke "Imma go in the shower alright, you can stay here I'll leave the door open so you can talk to me, ok?" He looked over at you and spoke "I want one thing first" you said "and that is?" He spoke "a kiss" you smiled and walked over and leaned down. Giving him a kiss then you gave him a peck on the cheek. You spoke "if you want music on my phone is on the desk if you connect it with my speaker it should work" he got up and walked over to your desk. Grabbing your phone he saw your lock screen. It was you pair in your gear after one of your duo missions and saved thousands of people that in your opinion was the best mission you been on. He unlocked your phone and did what he was told. Turning it up so it was practically background music so he could still hear you. Hearing one of your favourite songs on you started singing to it. He smiled to himself as he loved when you sang it reminded him of the time you and him would be in either one of yours rooms when you were teens and you’d sing the same song. That song to him and you had something there. It felt like a safe place, it had so many good memories behind it.

Getting out of the shower you changed into a pair of joggers and one of ghosts hoodies and a pair of your sports socks. Scrunching your hair in your towel you walked out of the bathroom and saw he still was on your bed. You walked over and said "so heard it's movie night tonight, you joining?" He said "if you go, I’ll go" you smiled and spoke "they we shall" you sat next to him.

After drying your hair, you and ghost pulled on your masks. Walking into the brake room you spotted everyone gathered round the table. You spoke "hey guys" F/n patted a seat next to her. You sat down and ghost sat opposite you and next to soap. Price said "now since everyone is here, we need to vote on what we are eating tonight." He handed out pieces of paper and spoke "write down what you think we should eat tonight." You pretend to right down but you looked at ghost to see what he was writing. Agreeing with his option you wrote down the same. Folding the paper you placed it into Price's hat. Once he collected the votes in he mixed them in his hat. In the end he said "so the food we are getting tonight is pizza." You looked at ghost and saw he was already looking at you. You smirked and looked back at Price and he spoke "once you get the note pad write your order down" after three people it was your turn. You wrote your name and ghost's name, you looked up at him and asked "the usual?" He nodded his head as you wrote down his order and then yours and slid the note pad to F/n so she could order hers and soaps food.

After a while you all ate your food and cleaned up. Soap said "everyone grab what you want for the movie" you and F/n gave each other an excited look. You ran to your room and F/n ran to hers. You grabbed your waited blanket F/n gifted you and you grabbed a pillow for ghost. Walking back out you saw most of the men had hogged up the sofa. You rolled your eyes as you hear F/n whisper "they've hogged up the sofa again haven't they?" You spoke "yep, gosh we can never have a seat can we?" You both chuckled and she said "no worries at least we got men we can us as a pillow" you gave her the eyes. She laughed. You both walked over and you threw ghost the pillow. He rested it behind his neck and he gestured for you to sit on his lap. Sitting sideways so your left side was against his chest as you both sat on the end. You pulled the blanket over you both. Feeling his arm snake around your waist and the other hand on your thigh. You rested your head on his shoulder. You watched the beginning of the movie and spoke "gaz picked this didn't he?" The men laughed and gaz spoke "how do you know that?" You spoke "I’ve know you all long enough now. Trust me I can read people like a book" he was shocked. You smirked and continued watching the movie when you heard ghost whispered "that was quite accurate" you smiled under the mask and he knew you did as well.

After the movie, you all headed to your room. Soap went with F/n and ghost went with you. Closing the door and locking it, ghost pulled his mask off. He later on your bed and said "come on, before I get cold" you rolled you eyes as you laid on top of him. He placed his index finger under your chin and lifted your face to look at him dead in the eyes. He closed the gab and started to make out with you. Sometimes when you kissed Ghost it was as if he’d haven’t seen you in years. He love it though and deep down you did too. Pulling away for air and asked "why'd you stop?" You said through each breath "do.. you want.. me to suffocate?" He chuckled and said "eh, as long as it's me doing it" you smirked and started kissing him again. Then you both went to sleep. The only time ghost slept it would only be in your arms. Just like when you both were kids.

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to request/message me if you want

Have a good day/night!🫶

#task force 141 #task force 141 x y/n #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #y/n mw2 #ghost fanfiction #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost posts #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost and pals #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #platonic task force 141 x y/n

[aislingstorm]

Seeing Red releases this Friday 11/17 only on Amazon! Find it here on Kindle (free on Unlimited!) and paperback! Read on to find out how a dress sparked a whole story for me... and a fantastic opening scene. 😌

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A small glass of club soda please.” She heard Max ask the bartender quietly. The bartender took one look at her and then passed him a white bar towel as well. Max put a fifty-dollar bill in his tip jar. 

Show off, she thought, but smiled gratefully to the bartender.  

Steering her by the elbow again, he guided her outside of the large room and down the corridor and away from the crowded entry hall, where there was a quiet sitting area that no one seemed to have found yet. He stopped beside a large floor-length mirror and an empty bar counter and set down the cup.  

Normally, Rose would have loved the break from the steady hum of the crowd, but now it just made her more anxious. She swore she could hear her heart racing. 

“I could have taken care of it myself,” Rose said, irritated that Max had just taken charge. His hand at her elbow caused goose bumps to run up and down her arms. 

She remembered a time when she had longed for Max to touch her. 

“And ruin that pretty dress with soap and water?” Max asked, an eyebrow sardonically raised at her. Rose thought he probably wasn’t looking for an answer, so she pressed her lips together. Yes, she would have probably used soap and water in the ladies bathroom. Max dipped the tip of the bar towel in the club soda, pressing the access out with his fingertips, and offered it to her. When she started to wipe at the stain, he sighed again deeply and quickly grabbed her wrist. 

Taking the rag back, he said quietly, “Dab, Red, not wipe.” And he gently pressed just the tip of the wet towel to the top of her breast, where the drink had spilled. 

Rose swallowed again, barely breathing. He had to be able to hear her heartbeat, it was thundering so loudly in her ears. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been raised on parties like this like he and his brothers. 

She could feel the edge of his sleeve against her breast, the cold, hard cufflink lightly pressing its edge against her nipple. She wondered if he had realized it. Max’s eyes rose from her breast to meet hers. He dabbed the dry side of the towel against her without even looking. 

Unable to drop her gaze from his, Rose croaked, “Thanks, Max.” 

Max fisted the towel, their eyes still locked. He grazed his knuckles down over the tight bud that had become her nipple through the soft satin. Just once, for the briefest of moments, and she swore her panties were wet, just like on her sixteenth birthday. 

He lowered his head, the towel in his hand at his side, his lips barely inches from hers. Taking a deep mint-scented breath, he gently shook his head and stepped back, looking at her again. 

“That should dry pretty quickly now,” he said, his voice husky as he turned her by the elbow to face the mirror on the wall behind her. 

Rose hardly saw the wet spot. But she did see the tall, dark, and handsome cut he made in his Tuxedo behind her. His dark, wavy brown hair with it’s expensive cut had grown out a bit from when she had last seen him. His broad shoulders had only broadened a bit more since his youth, remembering how he had refused to play football his senior year as he had gotten involved in the student-led K-9 program at the local police station. She still remembered how angry her brother had said the coaches were with Max ‘throwing away a sports career.’ Standing tall behind her, his hand at her elbow, he met her eyes in the mirror. 

He had grown older for sure, but only more handsome. 

She had heard he had spent some time in the Marines before taking a local job of some kind in Dallas, and she wondered if that was why his eyes looked harder, more shielded almost, as she searched them.  

Rose swallowed, reminding herself to breathe. His eyes dropped to the movement of her throat and then her chest in the mirror. The mirror didn’t hide her response to him, nor did her dress. She’d probably need to take a walk away from him for a few minutes to get her nipples to settle themselves down, and her panties a little less hot, before sitting in this damn dress. 

She slipped out from in front of him and began to back away in the other direction. “I really should go. Thank you, though.” Remembering his deep sighs earlier, she added, “I really didn’t mean to be a bother.” 

She spun and walked quickly away, the dress spinning behind her, her long bare legs flying as quickly as she could in these ridiculous heels to get away from him without running. 

Finally, Rose reached the front doors. Pushing through them, she sagged against the wall to the side of the entrance for a moment, gasping in the fresh air. The night air was cool, and she desperately needed cool. Sweat had begun to glisten at her temples. 

Goddamnit Max. He had fucked up her whole junior and senior years, and now this. Maybe she could still pull off the speech, as the spot on the dress seemed almost dry, barely noticeable. She would just have to not look in his direction, wherever he was, or she might not keep her thoughts straight like the last 20 minutes had been. She wasn’t even certain of the time and knew she needed to get back in, having left her watch off for tonight's dress. 

Taking one final breath, she opened the door. 

“Shoulder’s back, Rosie girl.” She heard her grandfather say again. You got this. 

#fiction #romance #mystery #intrigue #books #self published #cowboy #rancher #marine #kink affirming #lgbtq friendly #stories

[doublechocolatelatte]

Let Me Love You Part Two

Warning: None.

Part Two

The next day

Upon arriving at the medical military centre, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was my first day at the new base, and I didn’t know what to expect. Luckily, one of the seniors, Rebecca, approached me with a warm smile. She kindly offered to show me around, and I gladly accepted her invitation. 

Rebecca guided me through the corridors, pointing out various rooms and facilities and everything.  

My office. The breakroom. The pantry. My room. 

My room is the best thing in this military base. It has ‘the inviting bed’, a simple computer desk that is ready to be filled with paperwork and notes, the neatly organised wardrobe and the personal toilet. 

Right now, I find myself amidst the meticulous task of cleaning the medical bay, ensuring every surface gleams with a pristine shine. The scent of disinfectant in the air mingles with the hum of the overhead lights, creating an atmosphere of sheer dedication. 

Each tray and drawer is meticulously arranged, with the tools of my trade standing poised and ready for action and I arrange the neatly labelled vials and instruments. 

It’s a good thing I have two weeks off because I need to learn more about this base and how things work here. Also with the off days, I can see and surprise Leon at his home. I wonder what his reaction will be but I bet it will be amazing. 

Suddenly I hear a knock at the door but I’m still focused on my work. “Come in,” I say. 

I am still organising my stuff when I hear a pair of books entering my office. I turn around to see the man who bumped yesterday morning, standing at the doorway and staring at me. “Hey, I came here to say sorry about yesterday,” he apologises while rubbing his head. 

I chuckle, “It’s alright, sir. It was an accident. It’s not like you did it on purpose, anyway,” 

“Yeah, I know. But still, I would love to make it up to you, miss. You even helped me pick up the documents,”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” I wave my hand. 

“Don’t worry, I insist,” he demands. My, this man sure is persistent. I ask him, teasingly, “And how would you make it up to me?” 

“Well, I can make you our finest at the pantry. But if you have something in mind, I would do it,” he replies. 

“It’s alright. No need to push yourself too hard, soldier. You need rest too. The tea will be nice,” I smile at him. 

“Alright then, m’lady. Follow my lead,” he says with amusement at his tone. I laugh then I follow his lead and since I’ve still got time to organise my stuff, I feel like I need a break anyways. 

I observe him for a few moments. This man has a weird small mohawk haircut but as weird as it is, it suits him. It’s a reflection of his unique personality and there is a sense of confidence in his stride. 

With that personality, I bet he can charm any woman. Not to mention, he has good looks and knows how to speak to a lady with good manners. 

“Laswell told me you’re the new medical doctor,” he breaks the silence between us. I can tell he is awkward with the situation. I smile at him and I agree with his statement. 

“Yes, sir. My name is Dr. McTaggert, but you can call me, Tristine,” I introduce myself. He looks over at me and frowns in confusion. “Tristine? That’s a unique name,”

I don’t know if that is a compliment or something else. 

I laugh. “Thanks, sir, I guess? What about you? What should I call you?” my turn to ask him and he laughs, awkwardly, then answers my question, “Sorry, my manners. Sergeant McTavish, but please call me Soap,” 

Soap? What? I am stunned with confusion. I immediately brush it off, not wanting to look rude. Soldiers really come with weird callsigns, don’t they?

As we stroll down the well-lit hallway, the conversation flows effortlessly between us. We exchange stories, laughter filling the air as our voices echo off the polish walls despite the fact that we just met yesterday.

As if we’ve known each other for years. 

He truly is friendly, I give him that. Yup, with that personality of his and that look, he’s gonna get the girls meeting on the spot. 

“Hey, Tristine. May I ask you a question?” Soap asks with curiousity. 

“Go ahead,” I reply. 

“Are you perhaps engaged or married?” He looks at me with interest. I give him a confused look. “How did you know, Soap?” my turn to ask him. 

He grins and speaks with confidence in his tone, “When you waved your hand at me at the medical bay, I saw a ring on your ring finger so I assume maybe this girl is not available anymore,” he chuckles. 

Damn, he has good eyes. No wonder he’s a sniper demolition in his team. I give him 10/10.

“Well, you have a good eye, sir,” I compliment him, and he smirks, “as for your question, yes, I am engaged,” I continue. 

After a few minutes of walking, we finally reached our destination: the breakroom. With a courteous gesture, Soap opens the door for me, revealing a cosy and welcoming atmosphere inside as he smirks at him. I couldn’t help but grin at him, appreciating the small act of kindness. 

Together, we step into the breakroom, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The rich, earthy scent envelopes us, awakening our senses and rejuvenating our tired minds. The warm, inviting atmosphere instantly puts us at ease, allowing us to shed the stress of our demanding jobs. 

Suddenly a deep voice booms in the breakroom, causing me to startle. “Hey, Soap. Where have you been? Who is this?” I turn to look at the deep voice’s owner and see a man with a cowboy hat asks Soap while pointing his finger at me.

The break room is magnificent. This space is reserved for the medical doctors and higher-ups of the base, and it truly reflects their elevated status. That’s what Soap said just now. 

The room is beautifully decorated with a touch of elegance, exuding a sense of sophistication that permeated the atmosphere. 

“Everyone, this is Dr. McTaggert. She is the new medical doctor that just arrived yesterday. Tristine, may I present to you, the 141 task force.” Soap introduces me to the squad. 

Wait… 

The 141 task force? Laswell just told me about them yesterday. 

#call of duty #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 20 Prompt 5 - Chess

Content warning for attempted rape. Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout (thanks for Ives!), @grailfish, @forthesanityofsome, and @pied-piper-of-hamlet!

When the train stopped, Peacekeepers slammed the door to my room open and grabbed me, despite Ives’s protests. They just sneered at him before dragging me off the train and through a maze of corridors before shoving me into a small room, already filled with a group of people whispering to each other. They looked almost fake, makeup caked on their faces and their nails so long and sharp that I hoped they wouldn’t be touching me.

One of them, the one with tall, blue hair, looked over at me and smiled. I cowered down under their scrutiny, backing away from the mirrors lining three of the walls. But then I bumped into someone, and I flinched and looked up, staring straight at another of them. They reached over to scratch a long nail down my chin, and I snarled and bit at their hand. They squealed and jumped back, and I bared my teeth at all of them. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

The first one sighed. “We shouldn’t expect anything less from the monster. Such a shame too. She has such lovely hair.” They pressed a button, and Peacekeepers walked back in. They pointed at me. “Strap her down.”

I screamed at them all and tried to run out of the open door, but the Peacekeepers grabbed me roughly and slammed me on the table, taking off Ives’s jacket and strapping me down so I could barely move. Tears leaked out of my eyes, and I kept yelling at them, not even knowing what I was saying as a bright light blinded me, and they worked in the shadows around me, saying things I couldn’t understand as everything felt more muffled.

They poked at me and pulled at my hair. They doused me in water and ran a blade over the skin of my leg without cutting. They took off my clothes, and doused me in awful smelling soaps and lotion, and the overwhelming smell just made everything feel worse. They finally stepped back, one of them wrapping a towel around me before they left, not explaining anything.

I stared after them, still crying, and it was a long time before someone else showed up. He didn’t look as garish as the others, but my skin crawled as he looked me up and down. He tapped a pen against his chin and wrote something down on a clipboard. “Why did I have to get the tribute who no one is going to like? No one will appreciate my work.” He glared at me as if it was my fault.

I bared my teeth at him. “If no one will care about what you do, why even try? Just send me out in a hoodie and jeans.” Those clothes looked so damn comfortable.

He sniffed. “Never. Anyway, I heard that the Capitol is running a campaign on you to get some kind of profit out of you. So, I’ll just play into that. It’ll be easy while still looking tasteful.”

He clapped his hands and walked off, still leaving me strapped down, and when he came back, he was holding the tiniest dress and a whole fucking bucket of glitter. He set those down and pulled the towel off of me, finagling the dress on as I tried to bite him whenever his hands got close to my face. He just complained the whole time, brushing out my hair and putting it into an elaborate bun. He caked on my makeup and finally finished with dumping glitter all over me.

He clapped his hands. “Perfect! Now go out to the chariots.” He waved his hand dismissively, and Peacekeepers unstrapped me and brought me out to a huge room with tons of carriages and…and what were the animals attached to them? They were so tall and beautiful and fluffy! I forgot that I had on a dress that barely covered my ass, had a plunging neckline, and had barely any back. With those animals here, everything would be fine.

The Peacekeepers let go of me and left, as other Peacekeepers looked over at me and whistled, and my cheeks burned. Even the other tributes who were in the room were staring at me. I just tried to keep my head high as I made my way to the District 11 chariot. I could at least count that high, damnit.

The beautiful creatures were at my chariot too! One was a beautiful black color, and even her shoulder was taller than me! I walked closer to her and the other one: white with brown splotches. I loved them both! “What are you beauties? I love you so much,” I whispered, reaching out and petting her velvety nose. I petted the other one too as I leaned forward and kissed her nose. They were the best!!!

“You’re going to make Niner jealous.”

I jumped and looked around, and Ives was walking up, still wearing his turtleneck and pants. I was so fucking jealous. I petted the creatures again, and I couldn’t help but smile. They were so soft! “I could never replace Niner, but what are these animals called?”

“These are horses. Traditional for pulling chariots and other, heavier, equipment. Some people ride them on their own.” He looked away, but I couldn’t wonder about it because the black horse tried to eat my hair, and I squealed in delight and turned back to them.

“I love them! Dogs are the best, but horses are the second best.”

He nodded out of the corner of my eyes. “It’s understandable that they would be a favorite. This is also a chance for you to try and become a favorite of the audience. To introduce yourself to everyone watching. Who you’d like to portray. Have you thought about how you might want others to see you? As friendly or maybe rebellious?”

I looked down at my damn clothes and deflated. They had already decided how I would look to the audience. And anyway, why did it matter? They’d all hate me. “I don’t really have a choice. This is what they chose for me.”

“Don’t you?” He tilted his head. “You can play a part but it doesn’t have to be their part.”

But how could I do that? They were basically seeing all of me on display anyway. I grimaced. “I don’t want them to see me though. Not all of me like this.”

He frowned and reached up over his head, and I looked over and froze as I stared at him. He took his whole turtleneck off, with nothing underneath, and I had to keep myself from staring. I would never be like the Capitol bastards. He was pretty though. His perfectly styled hair was messy for once, and he was even prettier like that. I looked away quickly before I could stare.

He shook the shirt out and held it out to me. “I have an idea, put this on.”

My cheeks burned as I took the shirt and put it on. It went down to my knees and wasn’t skin-tight. I…I felt so comfortable in this. I took the dress off underneath the shirt and let it fall as I put my arms through the sleeves. This was so much better. And nice and warm too.

He nodded, leaning closer and folding the neck down so it didn’t go up to my chin, and he even took off his belt and put it around my waist so it looked even more like a dress. My cheeks couldn’t burn any hotter. I glanced at his abs but looked away really quickly. I couldn’t stare at his abs. I couldn’t stare at his abs.

He leaned back, and I ducked my head, hating that he wasn’t close anymore. “How’s that?” He tried to comb his hair back, but luckily, it wasn’t staying in place anymore.

I couldn’t look at him, or I wouldn’t stop staring. And I couldn’t do that. “But…but…what about you?”

“What about me?” He sounded confused as he looked down at himself. “I don’t think I’ll fit in your outfit.”

“But they’ll stare at you, if you’re in the crowd. I’ve seen how they treat you too.” Even now, there were just as many people staring at Ives as me.

“It’s no different than usual.” He didn’t deserve that. I couldn’t let them hurt him. He shook his head. “We need to worry about you. How you’re going to appear to these people. Your attitude. This is the first step to getting out alive.”

I swallowed hard, looking up at his face. “Well then you should know that I…kind of completely zone out when I hear loud noises.”

“Alright,” he whispered, nodding. “Then maybe we should go for the distant and aloof type? No fake smiling or pageant waving. Simply scanning the crowd with indifference?”

I nodded. “But I don’t think it will matter. They’ll hate me either way.”

“They want you to think that.” He shook his head, staring into my eyes, and I didn’t find it hard to meet his eyes this time. “They want to make you feel hopeless. But there is no sense in cowering. Monster is defined as something large, wicked, and frightening. It means they fear you.” He frowned. “You may as well give them a reason.”

My cheeks somehow burned worse, but I nodded. “I don’t even know how to use my magic. But…I’ll try.” I smiled a little, getting an idea as I glanced at the horses. “What if we break the rules a bit? I want to ride one of them.”

“They’re sending you to a death match. What does it matter if you break the rules?” He smiled a little, and damn, I wanted to see him smile more. He walked over to the horses and released them, and they just stayed there. He took the black horse and brought her over to me. “I think breaking the rules would make you more monstrous, don’t you agree?” He held his hand out to me, and I took it, letting him help me up onto the horse. His turtleneck was big enough that it didn’t move too high up when I sat on the horse.

I grinned, petting the horse. She was so beautiful, and I was so tall! “Do you know anything about riding horses?”

“Not much.” He shook his head, chuckling softly as he adjusted the things I put my feet in. “Just that your feet go here, and you pull the reigns in the direction you want them to go. I imagine they know the route though.”

I grinned and nodded, getting used to the feel of the reigns in my hands. The doors opened up into a huge area with a crowd above, and I took a deep breath before looking at Ives. “Wish me luck!” And I spurred the horse on, and she started galloping. I cheered as she raced out ahead of any of the chariots, and the crowd was dead silent, staring at me. I grinned at them, flipping them off as the horse galloped down the area to where whatever special president was gonna talk.

As the other chariots came out, the crowd cheered, but it seemed more subdued than I expected. So I didn’t feel so awful about the sound. And Triel came up beside me, riding the other horse from our chariot, and I couldn’t help but grin over at her. She looked so confident and sure riding the horse, and I wished I could be like that all the time, with nothing to prove.

I didn’t pay attention to the speech, just petted the horse. Her name should be Stardust. And she just seemed happy to let me pet her and ride her.

Of course, when everything was done, Peacekeepers pulled me off Stardust and took her away, but Triel just gently led me to the elevator and up to the apartment where Ives was waiting. He smiled and waved, and I grinned and took his hand.

“It was amazing! I wish you could have experienced it too! The horse was so sweet, and I have to find her again during training. She’s the best! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. And I’m sure we can find her again. I’m glad you were able to enjoy yourself. I think you made quite an impression.”

“They were all booing at me and glaring, but I didn’t care! I don’t care if they like me ever.” I let go of his hand and walked in my room, but…someone was there, and they closed the door before Ives could follow. I froze, starting to shake as they put a hand over my mouth with a smirk.

“Act like everything if fine,” they whispered. “You don’t want him to come in here and get what I came her for for you, right?” I started shaking, tears blurring my vision, but I nodded. I couldn’t let anyone else experience what I had.

Ives spoke through the door. “Chess? Are you alright?”

I swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep my voice even as the stranger took their hand from my mouth. “I’m fine! I want to go to bed.”

“Are you sure? Would you like to change clothes? I could get you something.”

They tightened their grip on my arm, and it was all I could do to not start sobbing. They leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I fucked that robot before, and he was weak, didn’t have any strength. You better try better than that, or you’ll see how easily I can hurt him.”

I tried to make my voice sound cheerful as I talked again. “I’m fine! Really! There are clothes in here!”

Ives didn’t say anything, and the stranger didn’t wait any longer, pushing me toward the bed. “I paid for your time, and you’re wasting it! Let’s get this going, monster,” they growled.

I started sobbing as quietly as I could, but they didn’t care. They pinned me on the bed and started kissing me, and I didn’t even try to fight them. I was a monster, there was nothing more to me. Nothing…

Ives had said that monsters made people fear them. I…I could maybe do that. I opened my eyes and kicked at them and flailed and struggled, but they just chuckled and held me tighter, and I couldn’t pull out of their grip. They pulled Ives’s turtleneck over my head, and I screamed at them, sobbing worse as they pushed the fabric over my mouth so my screams were muffled. I couldn’t…couldn’t do anything. I was so weak.

The door slammed open, and my mind was so scared, it immediately went to someone else coming to hurt me too, but then the stranger was pulled off of me, and I looked up, and Ives was holding them against the wall by the neck. And…and he looked furious.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled lowly.

I stared for a bit, sobbing, but then I realized that I was almost naked, and I wrapped up in the sheets as best I could, staring at them.

The stranger whined and blinked at him. “I paid for her, the Capitol owes me her.”

“But she doesn’t owe you anything! Understand. Off limits.” He threw them out the door, and I couldn’t hear anything else over my own sobs. With both of them gone, I grabbed the shirt and wrapped it around me, not feeling comfortable in it anymore after they had touched it, but I had to cover myself up. I…I couldn’t do anything else, not even able to get myself to stop sobbing.

Ives walked back in the room after a while and closed the door behind him. “Chess, are you alright?”

I looked up at Ives, tears still streaking down my cheeks, and my fists clenched as I started shaking. I was so fucking weak, and he was looking at me with fucking pity, and I couldn’t stand it! I stood up on shaky legs. “Don’t you dare look at me like that! Like some fragile child to be pitied! I’m not strong enough to scare them yet, but I will be! I’ll burn this whole fucking place to the ground! I’m not weak! I’ll show you!” I couldn’t look at his eyes for a second longer, instead dashing for the door and then into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs, pulling at my hair and scratching at my skin. It was too much. It was all too much.

After what seemed like forever, there was a knock on the door. “Chess, you know I’m going to hold you to that. That’s why I’m here. I want to see you burn it all.”

Ives. But hadn’t he said something else about why he was here before? I sniffled, tears still streaking down my cheeks. “You’re here to make sure I give them a good show. I at least remember that.” I clenched my fists, still curled up. The shirt didn’t really smell like Ives anymore.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t lose yourself, that you don’t believe what they want you to. I’m here to help you get stronger. To not be afraid of anyone else. That no one else will be able to hurt you.” He spoke softer when he talked again. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you say you were alright?”

“They…they threatened you. Said they would do to you what they wanted to do to me. I…I would never wish something like that on anyone.” And it sounded like they had already done that to him, but I wouldn’t tell him that and make him remember bad memories.

He sighed. “Chess, please don’t ever do that again. I appreciate you standing up for me, protecting me, but I don’t want anyone hurting you. Not under my watch.” He cleared his throat. “What can I do to help? Would you like me to bring you anything? Are you hurt?”

Wait, that was something I had to talk about face to face. I stood up on shaky legs and opened the door. “So you do think I’m weak. Maybe I could protect you without getting hurt.” I pouted out my bottom lip, not being super serious since I know that would probably be impossible. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna let anyone else experience that. Not if I can help it. Not under my watch.” I crossed my arms and tried to look as strong as I could with tears still occasionally slipping down my cheeks and my hair so disheveled.

“It isn’t that I think you’re weak. If you were, you wouldn’t be standing here. You wouldn’t have survived this far. You wouldn’t have broken the rules and did your own thing at the chariots today.” He looked away from me and shook his head. “Well, as your mentor, it wouldn’t be responsible of me to let anything happen to you before the Games, would it? Regardless of what anyone may try and do to me. Your focus needs to be on training.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to budge on that. “No one should ever have to experience that, and I’m not gonna make someone else experience it because I was too selfish.”

“It wouldn’t have happened.” He didn’t look entirely sure of that. “This is my job now.”

I sighed. Neither of us were gonna budge. “Well, then I request we discuss a plan to get me stronger so I don’t die in two seconds. But first, I need a shower.”

He nodded, and I got a shower, the slowest shower I could. When I got out, he was waiting in my room, and he had a whole plan to help me get strong. I listened and agreed, and Niner stayed with me as Ives assured me he would watch my door.

Before I could get into the bed and fall asleep though, I saw something on the desk in the room. Flowers. Black roses.

My stomach dropped, and I walked over to see the note. From a secret admirer

I knew exactly who that was. Ashont. He…he was still there. He was waiting for me to mess up. I…I would never be free of him.

Tears blurred my vision, and I took the vase and threw it against a wall, smashing it and cutting the flowers into little pieces. And then I ran and hid under the covers, holding Niner close as I kept sobbing.

#tw assault #writeblr hunger games #whg #writeblr

[v1x3n]

♡ too much to ask?

simon 'ghost' riley x reader ┃ navigation ୨୧ tags : angst

Seeing her walk into the room fills me with pure confusion. I don't know why we have been like this. The smiles as she walked in the room had turned into frowns as she looked my way. Looking over at Johnny, sighing to myself. How did it come to this? Am I too quick to assume that she isn't pissed anymore? Johnny chuckles to himself, seeing the lovers disappear, "is the love no longer in bloom?" joking as he nudges me. I don't understand what's so funny. "Fuck yourself Johnny." I retort in a huff. Johnny scoffs as my mind replays the fight from before. She had pissed me off, gone out drinking with mates she knows I hate, until 2am. It was like she was trying to avoid me. 10 or 11 was fine but 2am was too far, way too late. When she came home, drunk as fuck, throwing a fuckin' tantrum, tears flowing down her pretty ass face. They played a very different tune from what we did before that morning when she wanted attention from me.

Her head red raw as Johnny makes another snarky comment, "what, did he leave you on read?" cooing through his thick accent. She storms out of the room, bringing all her anger with her, lingering some around the room. Thoughts flow through my mind as I realise it's ending. The so-called ending doesn't sound like the happiest around. My other relationships' breaking points felt like nothing compared to this. Why did it have to end? I love her. Fake chatting with Johnny before leaving after following her. Striding through the corridors to find her quarters. Taking a small breath and knocking gently on the wood of the door. "love..? can I come in..?" taking a reliefed sigh as she opens it. Sad, lonely eyes look up at me. "what?" i take a small inhale then followed by an exhale, i let myself inside and shut the door behind me. "listen, when you sobbed before-" she cuts me off," its fine simon." my..name? She had never used my name, it was always cute silly pet names until now. Fuck i had messed up big. "it's not though, is it?" I grab onto her hand, but she pulls away instantly. "it's just the fight from yesterday." It felt much more like the product of a squabble. I could see her unable to make eye contact, taking a step away from me. Noticing her lack of her usual physical contact, I know now there's a reason for it to be something more."Just leave it, Simon." grumbling through her words, looking down at her feet.

Walking away from her quarters, making it to mine, coming up with ideas for how to get the spark we had back. Bumping into Price along the way, him fastly knowing I'm feeling down. "You good, mate?"

"Yeh" I chuffed, trying to hide the fuckin' pain in my voice. "Soap told is 'bout what's been goin' on." He takes a small pause and sighs softly, hands on his hips and looking into my eyes. "would me having a small chat with her create a bother?" thinking for a moment, breathing in and out, creating a small hesitatenly nod from me. "there would be." pitiously replying. "just treat her right then." shite advice captain. Like I wasn't being nice? Price fucks off as I open my door and lay down on my bed."Oh" I grumble, taking a while to relax myself, laying my head on the pillow and trying to settle myself. Checking my phone to see if she had called. its uncertian if she had fully closed off from me yet.whether the curtain had shut for good.deciding to get myself back up, seeing as it wasnt late yet; Only 5pm. Heading down to the mess hall, seeing her. Slowly making my way up to her, nervous about the interaction. I suggest, "Wanna go to the little pub you like?"

I could see her cogs turning, almost struggling to say something, like her mouth was taped shut. She said, "See if it's still raining, I'm not dressed for it." I let out a small sigh, not knowing what her answer would be. But hearing it was different. And then "if you loved me-" And I interrupted, received a scowl and stare, but still decided to stop her there. "so no date?" she pulls me back into my room and scoffs. Obviously this was another start to yet another fight. I am so sick of being unable to love her.

The fight starts, loud groans, even louder shouting. Tears. the whole package. "Would it be outrageous to say...We're either shouting or we're shagging?" she wails from her soft lips, I tried to hold myself back, to keep my cool, but it was no use. Every time we fought, it felt like a tidal wave crashing over me, drowning me in anger and frustration."It's like we are docked in tempestuous bays" or at least that's how it felt yesterday."Why can't you just listen to me for once?" she yells, her voice piercing through my ears. She sits down on my bed, the spot of many memories. Her eyes were getting heavier. I just want to go back to the way things were.

"Would a kiss be too much to ask?" I let out a sigh, feeling the frustration building up inside of me. Without a reply, I sit next to her, gently placing my arm around her waist as she covers her face with her hands. After taking too long to reply, she tries to reply but yet again I cut her off, "its a pity." taking her hands off her face, looking over and up at me. Seeing the gloomy, dazed, unresponsive gaze she gives me, it just hit me. We can't go back. All the cute memories from the first kiss, first time, to chest touching on the back.

I guess it was all too much to ask.

comment to join main taglist!

#call of duty #cod mw2 #ghost #ghost x reader #ghostmw2 #reader insert #ghost cod #character x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simons persective #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #arctic monkeys #too much to ask #fluorescent adolescent #her #cod 141 #cod x reader #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #mw2 141 #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #simon angst #light angst #v1x3n!writes

[delicatelie89]

“Theoretically it is possible...”

How did season one’s AU Sam and Jack get engaged so damn fast? We can only assume they were too damn cute together from the start. Makes sense really.

Thanks to @formerdetective for peaking my muse.

No beta. Just fluffy word vomit.

Working with Doctor Samantha Carter is… something. And it doesn’t take him all that long to realize that ‘something’ isn’t the bad kind of ‘something’.

All the science talk should annoy him. But it doesn’t. Not at all. And that’s weird to him. Honestly, she confuses the heck out of him… and God help him, he thinks he might actually like it.

Damn if he doesn't feel guilty for feeling like this.

He shouldn't be allowed to get distracted by little things, like the changes she makes with her long blonde hair; shouldn't notice that she's done something slightly different since the last day he saw her. But, hey, maybe friends do that? Don't they? They're kinda friends... yeah of course... and friends notice stuff.

One morning he passes her in the hallway outside the locker rooms, she gives him a smile that lingers a little too long before she walks away. Then it's just him, standing in the faint smell of her—soap? perfume? hair product?—and realizing he fucked up. Because he's supposed to wallow. He had plans about it too. Lots of them. About the son he buried. About the wife who served him papers not too long ago. And yet here he is, standing in the corridor like a complete idiot, watching her walk away, and trying to decide if the fruity scent paired with vanilla is a strawberry or a blueberry.

Yeah.

Yeah he's screwed.

***

He spends the next two weeks "bumping into her" at lunch in the commissary. He was never good at this stuff, but having conversations that mostly consist of pie flavors and where they rank in a self made system that doesn't seem to have a lot of hard or fast rules, seems, well, safe enough.

He's two minutes too long into the pros and cons of rhubarb in a pie, when she says "do you want to have dinner with me?".

It throws him off guard, and he stares at her with a fork of subpar pie somewhere between his plate and his mouth.

"We could keep doing this, I like it,” she assures him. “But I've been taking my break an hour too early for weeks to talk about dessert with you. And at some point we’ve got to just admit that there's better quality desserts we could be discussing this over. We could even go so far as to call it a date.”

He stares at her dumbly.

“Or I could keep taking lunch an hour early,” she says, feigning nonchalance. “Whatever works for you.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Only because it became clear to me that you wouldn’t ask first.”

Well. She’s right. Hardly the point though. 

“Dinner sounds good... But if you keep trying to sell pumpkin pie as a tier one dessert then this is never going to work.”

She laughs. And it sounds cute.

“Maybe you just need lots of convincing,” she smiles at him.

 Yep. Definitely screwed.

***

He’s a man way in over his head.

The closer the weekend gets the more he thinks dinner is a terrible idea. He’s not been on a date in god knows how long, and the only place he can think to take her is just so ‘not him’. He can’t believe he made a reservation. They probably don’t even have pie there. 

By the time Saturday morning rolls around he’s talked himself out of the whole thing; she’s too young, he’s too fresh off his divorce, and they’re both the most senior ranking personnel on the base (the fact that she’s not military hardly matters). Really, this entire thing is a bad idea. He’s a few minutes away from calling her with some lame excuse when his phone rings.

“Don’t cancel on me,” her voice sounds through this phone. No greeting to speak of.

“Well hi Samantha, I’m fine, how are you?”

“I can’t find anything to wear,” she sighs, ignoring his remark. “Everything I own is either too casual or a pants suit, and you see me in that every day.”

“So obviously this means I’d cancel.”

“No, I thought you’d cancel because you’ve been acting nervy all week around me.”

Good to know he’s been so subtle about it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says through a grin.

“No, of course not,” she replies, placating him. “Do we have to have dinner? What are you doing for lunch?”

Lunch? Lunch is, he checks his watch, lunch is now. “Nothing?” 

“Good. There’s a diner on the other side of town that has the best cherry pie you’ll ever taste in your entire life. Interested?”

“That’s a bold statement from a person who maintains that pumpkin is a perfectly normal desert ingredient.”

“It is.”

“You’re wrong, but I forgive you.”

“Alright,” she says. He can hear a bunch of coat hangers being thrown together and what he assumes is her closet door being slammed shut. “I’m not changing, just meet me there and come in whatever you’re wearing now so I don’t feel stupid.”

“What if I’m not wearing anything?” he jokes.

“Great, it’ll be a talking point,” she doesn’t miss a beat.

Damn it, he chuckles, he really does like her. He shakes his head and resigns himself to whatever the hell he’s getting himself into. “What’s the address?”

“Hang on, I’ll find it,” she says. “Hey did you know the place you booked for tonight doesn’t even serve pie? I called and checked. What were we thinking?”

He can hear her smiling through the phone.

“I honestly don’t know.”

***

When he sees her in the diner parking lot they’re both in tired jeans and well worn tee shirts, her face is free of makeup and her long hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. She gives him a brilliant smile and stuffs her hands into her back pockets; he’s utterly done for.

“Wow, yeah, you look terrible,” he says dryly, looking her up and down.

“And you’re not naked; I guess we’re both disappointed.”

He laughs and shakes his head. Yeah, he thinks, this is way better.

“Come on,” he holds out his hand and she takes it, her fingers slipping comfortably between his.

Lunch lasts over three hours and consists of two pots of coffee and quite literally every pie flavor on the menu. She gets way too hyped up on caffeine, talks a million miles an hour, and giggles at him in a way he’s not heard from her before. Meanwhile the excessive sugar consumption has him reaching a new level of fidgety, but if her foot brushing his under the booth’s table is anything to go buy, he’s charming enough.

When they finally leave, they end up spending another ten minutes standing beside her car nutting out the final results of their combined pie rankings (something they’re taking very seriously). She’s all bright smiles and sparkling eyes when he’s giving her shit about pumpkin again. Then suddenly she shifts closer towards him, slips a warm hand up to cup the back of his neck, then pulls him down into a kiss in the middle of the parking lot.

Turns out she was right; it’s the best cherry pie he’s ever tasted.

#fluffy word vomit #pie is the cake equivalent in this universe #sorry they die in TBFTGOG #they seem cute #my fic #sam/jack fanfic

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

Hey! Love your writing!

Can I request Hydra or Flagsmashers or bounty hunters or just any bad guys really and they are going to take or kill the reader and Bucky tells them “take me instead”...Do what you want from there haha

The Most Important Thing

A/N: Protective Bucky is everything. That's all I have to say. But, thank you so much for the kind words and request! I hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: angst/fluff, violence, weapons, cursing

From the beginning, you knew the mission was going to go south. Not only was there not a lot of intel available to gather beforehand, but it’s Hydra you were going up against. Hydra was not known to be easily taken down.

“Y/N, what’s your status?” Steve asks, voice coming through your earpiece.

“I’m in the west corridor. Heading towards the panel room now,” you reply. Following orders, you head towards the room to turn off the electricity. The plan was to get in and save the hostages. With the electricity turned off, it’ll be easier to get to them.

“I’m on my way towards you, doll,” Bucky says. You shake your head and chuckle, choosing not to answer. It wasn’t a surprise that Bucky was close behind you. He was like this on every mission you went on, overly protective.

Inside the room, you immediately spot the breaker box and run up towards it.

“I’m at the box,” you announce. “And…” You flip the switch, causing the entire building to go dark. “Bingo.”

“Great work, kid,” Tony says. You hated being called “kid” and Tony knew it; he only called you it to annoy you. Rolling your eyes, you navigate through the now dark room, on your way to help with retrieving the hostages.

Bumping into a body, you are about to scream, before a hand clamps down on your mouth.

“Shh, doll, it’s just me,” Bucky says.

After he removes his hand, you punch him in the arm.

“Ow, what is that for?” he asks.

“For scaring the shit out of me,” you say seriously. “I thought you were Hydra.”

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t think that one through.”

“Ya think?”

Grabbing his hand, you pull him out of the room.

“Alright, guys. Finish up your lovers’ quarrel and get your asses up here,” Tony says.

“We’re on our way,” you reply.

As the both of you head down the hallway and turn the corner, you’re stopped by four Hydra soldiers.

“Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” they yell.

Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you behind him, using his body to protect yours.

“I said drop your weapons!” the one soldier yells again.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says. He turns to you and motions for you to lower your gun to the floor, as he does the same with his. You both raise your hands in surrender.

Two of the soldiers grab Bucky, yanking him down the hall, while the remaining two grab you. Your earpiece is pulled out of your ear, cutting off all communication with the others.

Bucky looks back at you, panic in his eyes. “I love you,” he mouths to you.

“I love you too,” you mouth back.

Bucky turns his head back around and while walking you stare at his metal arm, watching the one soldier hold it back in captivity, ensuring it can’t be used.

---

The soldiers lead you to a secluded room, where you’re both chained up against the wall. Another soldier walks into the room and introduces himself as Leon. “What a pleasant surprise this is,” he says.

Leon walks up to Bucky, running his fingers down his metal arm. “The Winter Soldier,” he mutters. He looks over at you. “And, what do we have here?”

Stepping in front of you, he looks you over.

“Leave them out of this,” Bucky says.

“Oh?” Leon says. “The Winter Soldier cares about someone? How interesting.”

“He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore,” you spit out.

Bucky pulls against the restraints. “You leave them the fuck alone!” he yells.

Leon releases your chains before instantly putting handcuffs over your wrists. “I don’t think I will,” he says, as he pulls you towards the door.

“No!” Bucky yells. “Take me! Take me instead!” He struggles to get his hands out of the chains. “It’s me you want anyway! I’ll do anything you want! Just please, let them go.”

Tears build up in your eyes. “Buck…”

Bucky looks at you, eyes wide. “Y/N, I won’t let them take you.” He yanks against the chains again, causing him to jolt forward before falling backwards against the wall. “You’re not going to take them! Take me!”

Leon kicks the door open, dragging you with him. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that would be…”

A blast knocks into Leon, shooting him onto the floor.

“A lie? Is that what you were going to say? How mediocre,” Tony says, as he shoots another blast into him.

Arms wrap around you and you turn to see Wanda. She steadies you before bending down to break the handcuffs off your wrists.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Better now that you’re here,” you reply. You stand up and brush your hands on your pants. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Y/N. You know I’ve always got your back.” Wanda looks behind you and nods. “Looks like my cue to leave.”

Turning around, you see Bucky walking towards you.

“Talk later?” you ask Wanda.

She grabs your hands. “Of course.”

While watching her walk away, you feel a pair of arms slip around your waist. Bucky lays his head in the crook of your neck and sighs.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, doll.”

You turn around and fall into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Please,” you say. “Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself for me. You’ve been through enough.”

Bucky tilts your head up. “I’d do anything to keep you safe. Even if that means being a weapon for Hydra again.” He leans in, face inches away from yours. “Making sure you’re healthy and happy is the most important thing to me. You are and always will be, my number one priority.”

“You will never be a weapon ever again. I won’t allow it.” You close the gap between the two of you and kiss him. “We’ll keep each other safe.”

Smiling, Bucky leans in again to give you a quick kiss before grabbing your hand.

“C’mon, let’s get to the quinjet and help with those hostages. Then afterwards, when we get back, maybe we can have a movie night? With pizza?”

“That sounds perfect. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say, smiling back at him.

“It’s like I’m watching a soap opera,” Tony says, watching you and Bucky from a few feet away.

Wanda slaps his back.

“Ow,” he says.

Wanda shakes her head. “Let’s go, old man.”

All of you make your way to the quinjet, where you sit with Bucky in the back, head resting on his shoulder the whole ride home.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky oneshot #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel #tony stark #steve rogers #wanda maximoff

[wrctings]

Steve Rogers x Tony Stark | A cat at heart

i always used to picture the animal version of steve as a golden retriever (still solid) but cat steve... man, that hits differently 🥰 reminder that you can also find my fics on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softeninglooks/works

fandom: Marvel summary: Where Steve is very self-conscious about how horrible he looks when he takes his helmet off after a mission, and Tony takes care of him, which includes a well-deserved bath and a lot of affection. word count: 1.5k

It has never truly bothered Steve to wear a suit—everyone on the team had one, it came with the job, and although it appeared a little ridiculous in the beginning, the solid material and actually handy gear has grown on Steve so much, he knows his suit's pros and cons like the back of his hand. In most cases, he's thankful for its ability to provide him with both protection and room for fighting, which is what it was primarily designed for, after all. But if there is one thing still bothering Captain America even after all this time wearing it, it's indubitably this: the helmet.

The others don't get one, and Tony's faceplate, as well as being equipped with tech that gave him precious information during combat, had been build with all kinds of systems to keep his face cool and even not be too hard on his eyes. As for Steve, he wasn't gifted any of that—all he was left with was a somewhat protective helmet which, as soon as he engaged into battle or the weather got milder, became gradually insufferable.

So Steve always waits. Waits to find himself alone to finally remove the dreadful thing, thus revealing the marks left by it all over his forehead, the beads of sweat stood out on his brow, the dishevelled state of his hair, the sharp and funny-looking contrast between the dirty lower part of his face and the reddish skin of the upper part. The Captain never feels more self-conscious than when such a reflection of himself meets his eye in the bathroom mirror after missions, pressingly reminding him to never ever be seen like this by Tony. If his boyfriend were to become aware of just how much of a disaster Steve's entire head was in those moments, he'd surely think twice before giving out one of those compliments that make Steve's cheeks flush and his stomach flutter with timid love.

However, there comes a day when even heroes have got to face their fears. And Steve most certainly doesn't see his coming when, staggering through a corridor of the Avengers tower after a particularly straining mission, he suddenly bumps into Tony. There is one problem though: thinking he was alone, he had taken the helmet off—and by the look washing over the brunet's face, Steve can easily guess that he must be resembling whatever the epitome of mess is.

"Hey honey, are you okay? How was the mission? Are you hurt?" Tony's eyebrows knit together in suppressed shock, seeing Steve look so tired and drained after a long day always being cause for concern. His gaze lands on the dark patches staining his boyfriend's skin, scanning it for cuts and bruises.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay," Steve reassures him at once, trying to turn his face away from Tony's piercing brown eyes, already blushing from embarrassment. "I'm just tired. It was a long mission. I'm going to take a shower. I'll see you when I'm done."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Tony, don't worr..." But as soon as the words leave his mouth, Steve almost hits the corner of the wall, having barely payed attention to the fact that they reached an intersection in the tower's pathways; if he had managed to allay Tony's worry, it comes back swift as the wind.

"That's it." The other man declares decisively, his tone making it clear that whatever is to follow is not up for discussion. "Rogers, you shut up and follow me. Now."

As Steve quickly notes, they are headed to the bathroom. Another five minutes, and Tony is rather vigorously—for someone completely worried over the Captain's health just seconds ago— helping Steve get his suit off, setting it aside as soon as he's finished, then gesturing toward the bathtub.

"Get in," he orders, leaving the blond no choice but to comply, undressing completely as he gets inside, which allows Tony to make sure that no severe injuries are paining him. "Now, relax. Let me work the rest." Turning on the hot-water tap, the brunet, arms crossed over his chest and tight-lipped still, watches Steve try to get comfortable until the bathtub is about halfway filled. Only then, after pouring bath soak into the water, do his features at last soften with contentement, glad to hear that a deep sigh of what he believes to be relief just lifted off Steve's chest. "How are you feeling now, soldier?"

"Better," Steve gives Tony a grateful glance, almost forgetting about the calamitous state his face is still in. "Much better. Thank you."

"Alright, I like that better." Tony gives him a smile brimming with all the affection he can't hide—doesn't want to hide. Seeing Steve like this is indeed much better. "Okay, time for phase two."

Reaching for a bar of soap, Tony devotes himself to what he set his mind to. First, he rubs his own hands against its smooth surface before sliding them down Steve's shoulders and back, feeling the Captain's tense muscles progressively unwind beneath his fingertips, yielding to his caresses. Tony's every touch is careful, full of tenderness and preoccupation as all he wants is to get Steve to loosen up fully. Steve even chuckles as Tony wipes the dirt off his jaw, taking care of all the smeary spots the blond felt so self-conscious about; now, Steve has unquestionably shaken off his fear of being seen by his boyfriend.

Then, comes phase three. After seizing the shower head, Tony holds it over Steve, careful not to let the stream flood his eyes, then gets a hold of the bottle of shampoo. He pours some of the vanilla-scented liquid into Steve's hair, then letting his fingers thread through it softly, massaging Steve's skull and neck. The pleased moan that he gets in return, Steve tipping his head back into Tony's hands, is the best reward he can get.

"Look at you, behaving like such a cat. If I came closer, maybe I could hear you purring..." he hums, fingers circling at the back of Steve's head.

Steve's gravelly laughter responds to his comment, the Captain slightly opening his eyes to get a look at Tony's face. Definitely cat-like. Happy cat.

"Thank you, Tony. You're going through all that trouble for me..."

"Steve, after all the times you've taken care of me, that's the least I could do. And don't tell anyone, but I'm actually enjoying it," he murmurs against Steve's ear, making his boyfriend laugh anew. "Has anyone ever told you you're a cat at heart?"

"A cat? Really?" Steve muses, peacefully abandoning himself to Tony's hands as the latter rinses out the shampoo, then brushing the Captain's hair back with his fingers before planting a kiss on top of his head. The amount of warmth Tony rouses inside his stomach is insane.

"Yes, a cat. A water-loving cat. Wait, I'm not done yet."

And indeed, as Steve savours the last minutes of his bath Tony exits the bathroom, promising that he'll be back. When he reappears, a couple of minutes later, it's with a bundle of fresh clothes that he hands the blond when the latter gets out of the bathtub—it is, in reality, a win for Tony since he got to pick his favourite shirt for his boyfriend to wear. Helping Steve rub himself dry, he can't resist leaving a few kisses here and there over the man's shoulders and torso, the feather-light pressure of his lips finishing to completely soothe the Captain's mind and body. Steve cups Tony's face into his right hand to give him a passionate kiss on the mouth in return, deeply sighing with pleasure as he feels Tony's hand run through all the length of his wet hair.

"See, my point exactly. You're such a cat." Tony smiles against Steve's mouth, taking a step back to take a look at how truly beautiful Steve is. But the truth is, he always likes him: when Steve comes back from missions all dirty and dishevelled, when he's standing in the bathroom with droplets crystallized on his collarbones and the upper part of his face still bearing faint marks from the helmet he wore for too long, when he wakes up beside him on the mornings Steve sleeps in and when he's mindlessly tracing invisible patterns over his limbs. Any place, any time, any day. He's crazy about him.

A little later, when they're snuggling together in their shared bed, Tony's cat theory proves right once again. It only takes for the brunet to touch Steve's hair for the Captain to lean into Tony's hand, even nudging Tony's shoulder with his head as he's huddled up right against him.

"I always thought I was more of a dog person, but you really did awaken the cat in me," Steve smiles when Tony brings up the subject again, pressing a gentle kiss into Tony's neck. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Tony Stark."

"I really like it when people say that," Tony huffs amusedly. "But especially when it's you."

All Steve can do is fondly roll his eyes, slightly tightening the grasp of his arm, which is slid across Tony's chest in a loving embrace. And, when Tony begins stroking his hair again, Steve is sure that if he were able to, he would've in truth started purring.

#steve rogers x tony stark #stony fanfiction #stevetony fanfiction #cat steve rogers #stony fluff #stevetony fluff #marvel fanfiction #writing #my writing

[kaimelia]

take it easy

a/n: hi! I got a prompt to write something about amelia being sick and sneaking out on link, so I hope you enjoy this!

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

"Okay, can I grab you anything else? Another blanket, maybe?" Amelia shook her head; her lips pouted as she glanced at him and sighed.

"You can let me go to work," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and flopping back onto the bed. "I'm seriously fine."

"Amelia, Carina said to take it easy. You're dehydrated, and you just spent the half-hour puking, and you're so pale that you look like a ghost right now."

"And, I might die of boredom here. I'm just going in for one surgery; I've been prepping for this for weeks, Link." He placed his hand on her leg.

"And the surgery can wait. Koracick already said he would push it for you and keep tabs on your patient. This baby, on the other hand, needs you to take it easy." Amelia glanced down at the slight curve of her stomach, the tiny bump that reminded her of her pregnancy, the proof of their baby's existence. The bump that had also become responsible for her frequent trips to hunch over the toilet, emptying her stomach as Link rubbed her back softly. "Just get a few hours of sleep, and then we'll see how you feel, okay?" She nodded, not willing to admit how comfortable the bed was after her countless sleepless nights of nausea and insomnia. Link smiled at her, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

"Wake me up in a few hours," she muttered tiredly, closing her eyes.

"Just focus on resting up."

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

She woke up to the smell of coffee, scrunching her nose and gagging at the strength of the scent. She slowly stood from the bed, Link's t-shirt covering her figure, the hem of it falling right above her knees. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Like I might puke in a minute. The smell of that coffee is killing me right now," Amelia muttered, rubbing her eyes as she glanced over at the clock in the kitchen. "You shouldn't have let me sleep for that long."

"You needed it," Link responded, using his hand to try and waft away the smell of coffee around them. "Feeling better, though?"

"A little bit. Just want to stop feeling so crappy." He pouted sympathetically, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her body, kissing the side of her head as she sighed against him.

"I'm gonna head to the store. We're pretty much out of food in this place, and I'm assuming you want something plain to eat."

"Mm, can you get me some peanuts?" His eyebrows furrowed, and he pulled back to look at her in confusion.

"You hate peanuts."

"Pregnancy cravings. Please?"

"Sure," he kissed her head again before dropping his arms to his side, grabbing his car keys from the bowl. "Text me if you think of anything else, alright?"

"Bye," she waved as he shut the door, waiting a minute before hurrying into the bedroom and choosing an outfit from the small pile of clothes she kept at his place. A minute later, she was taking her keys, locking his apartment door, and rushing down the stairs to her own car, driving quickly towards the hospital.

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

"I'm back!" Link called out, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter and beginning to put things away. He frowned after not receiving a response, tiptoeing towards the bedroom and expecting to see her in the bed. "Amelia?" He walked into the bathroom, sighing at his lack of luck in finding her and rushing towards his window to look into the lot. The spot where she had previously been parked was empty, and he groaned, grabbing his phone and running back to his car.

"Where is she?" He asked once he saw Tom in the hospital hallway, who raised his eyebrows at Link.

"I'm not supposed to tell you that she's in O.R. 2," Tom muttered, waving his hand in dismissal. "I didn't tell you that. Shepherd's been scaring me a little with her hormones, so I don't want to end up in the line of fire for this." Link murmured a quick "Thank you" before jogging down the corridor, up the stairs, and into the gallery of the operating room. Amelia was staring straight ahead, and the room was silent. He walked over to the intercom.

"Amelia, what the hell are you doing here?" She glanced up, rolling her eyes.

"I'm trying not to puke on this patient right now; please be quiet." He watched as she placed her hand on her stomach, pulling down her mask and running towards the waste bin. The operating staff watched in silence, and Link understood why the gallery was empty; she didn't want anyone to see.

"Amelia, let me take you back home."

"I'm fine, now. I just need to re-scrub." Link slumped down into a chair, watching as his girlfriend returned into the operating room, putting on new gloves and resuming her former place behind the patient. "Scalpel."

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

"You don't need to tell me how stupid this was," Amelia groaned as she walked into the scrub room, disposing of her mask. "I really needed to operate; I just can't spend the day in bed working."

"But you're okay with puking on a patient?" She was silent, turning on the sink and grabbing the bar of soap. "Amelia, Carina said-"

"I know what Carina says. I have a higher chance of miscarrying because of my history, so I need to take it easy. But me laying in bed is not taking it easy because I'm miserable the whole time, and I can't grow a healthy baby if I'm suffering." The neurosurgeon grabbed a towel, her movements harsh. "I shouldn't have snuck out, I know, but I don't just want to be coddled, and you wouldn't let me leave."

"I'm not saying that I want you at work doing eight-hour-long surgeries," Link muttered, "but I would rather you just tell me where you're going." She tossed the towel in the bin. "Can I take you home now?"

"Only if you promise to massage my back." He grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist as she leaned into his body. "And, only if you bought peanuts."

"They're in the car."

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #my fics

[waywardxwords]

Forever After All

Summary: Sam and Dean return from a long hunt feeling mentally and physically exhausted. You do your best to show Sam that you aren’t going anywhere, and that you’re in it for the long haul--for forever. Sam doesn’t believe in forever, but you hope--one day--you’ll make him a believer.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,376

Warnings: Fluff? No warnings, really.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at the clock hanging on the wall of the kitchen. Tick…tock…tick…tock.

The beep from the oven made you jump—your hair on the back of your neck stood to attention and goosebumps flooded your arms. You brought your hands up to rub at the bumps. You walked to the oven and pulled the door down. You equipped your hands with oven mitts and reached in for the cherry pie.

As you closed the oven and hit the “Off” button, you looked around at the counter tops in the bunker’s kitchen.

Pie, a Greek salad, a pasta dish, steak, a burger for Dean, garlic parmesan mashed potatoes, and chocolate chip cookies. Because even though Sam would say he didn’t want any, you knew you would find him in the kitchen in the middle of the night to sneak one.

You knew you had overdone it, but you also knew the only way you could calm your brain was by cooking and baking. The boys had said they would be back at the bunker by 6:00 PM. It was 9:45 PM. The rational part of your brain knew that they were late all of the time—usually they would call, but still. Maybe they just lost track of time…

Before you could even process another thought, you heard the heavy door to the bunker open. You tried to contain your excitement and anxiousness, but you couldn’t help the slight skip in your step as you hurried to the corridor to catch a glimpse.

Both were vertical—neither looked seriously injured. They both looked like they could use a shower, but otherwise, you were calling this one a win.

“Hi,” you breathed. They both looked up and caught your eye.

“Y/N,” Sam breathed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call. My phone got busted on the hunt, Dean’s too…and the spares were dead…” he trailed off as you took the few steps towards him. You reached on your tip-toes and threw your arms around his neck, your fingers intertwined in his brown locks. Hot tears pooled in your eyes and you squeezed them shut to try to will them to go away.

“It’s okay,” you sighed thankfully. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

You pulled down, your hands cupping his face tenderly on the way down. Your eyes danced between his back and forth to make sure he was really okay—you could always tell.

You reached for Dean next, grasping his shoulder with your hand. “Both of you—I am so thankful you’re both okay.”

Dean smiled a painful smile in your direction and nodded. “I’m gonna take a shower and get changed,” he said.

“Any patchwork needed?” You asked hesitantly. There wasn’t a lot you hated in this world, but cleaning and stitching their wounds was one of them. You had some medical experience, and Sam wouldn’t let you tag along for hunts, so to make yourself feel useful, you cooked enough food to feed a small army and stitched up their wounds when they came back from hunts.

Dean looked down almost to evaluate his injuries before saying, “Nah, just scratches and bruises. Thanks, Y/N.”

As he walked away, you called after him, “Oh! I made dinner—burgers, steak, potatoes…the usual. And pie!” He smiled over his shoulder.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll stop by and grab something after my shower,” he said as he walked into his room and closed his door behind him.

You turned your attention to Sam. His eyes grazed the ground below his feet as he shifted his weight, his backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder. “What about you, babe? What’s your injury situation?” You brought your hand up to his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m all good,” he breathed with a small smile. “I’m gonna go shower, too. I’ll be out in a bit.” He leaned forward to give you a quick peck. That was his way of saying he needed to be alone. You had stopped feeling the weight of disappointment when he wanted some space after a hunt. You understood, and you knew Sam loved you. It still just felt…sad.

“Sounds good,” you managed a small smile. You pushed your hands into your back pockets and walked towards the kitchen. You started to clean up the dishes and utensils you had used to make dinner.

Before starting, you unlocked your iPhone on the countertop. You opened Spotify, and clicked the top song on the list.

As the music started, you turned on the kitchen sink and rolled up your sleeves.

A cold beer’s got 12 ounces, a good truck’s got maybe three hundred thousand

You hummed along with the song as you put a dab of dish soap on the sponge, lathering the dishes in the sink. Your mind drifted—away from hunting, away from cuts and bruises, away from sadness. Memories of happy times—that time the hunt had taken you to the beaches of California, and Sam interlocked your fingers as you ran through the sand to put your toes in the Pacific.

You only get so much until it’s gone, Duracells in a Maglite

Or the time he had taken you out to a field to watch for meteors in South Dakota, and the night ended with the two of you dancing under the stars with music coming from the speakers of the Impala.

The thoughts made a smile pull at the corners of your lips.

A needle drop on a 45, are the kinda things that only last so long

You jumped slightly when you heard Dean clear his throat behind you. “Y/N, seriously, you’re the best.” He breathed as his eyes moved over all of the food you had spent the afternoon cooking. He swung by the sink and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing a clean plate from the drying rack.

“You’re welcome,” you beamed. “Enjoy it. I’m not super hungry but I’m happy to sit with you and eat!” You offered.

“Nah, it’s alright,” he piled his plate with a little of everything, and a lot of pie. “Dr. Sexy has a new episode on tonight so I, uh…” he thumbed towards his bedroom.

You laughed softly with a nod. “No problem, have fun.” You smiled as you turned back to the dishes.

When the new wears off, and they get to getting old; sooner or later, times’ gonna take its toll

As the chorus began, you couldn’t help but move your hips slowly with the melody; your lips moving along as you sang quietly to yourself.

They say nothing lasts forever, but they ain’t see us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes, just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million other things that I could look at my whole life

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his arms snake around your waist. You closed your eyes at the smell of his shampoo and aftershave, the flannel that adorned his arms rolled up to his elbows. His head ducked and his lips found their favorite spot on the nape of your neck.

“You scared me,” you breathed as you dropped the sponge and shut off the faucet. You turned in his arms and dried your hands on your pants before placing them softly on Sam’s chest.

“Sorry,” he said softly. His words still felt heavy—you knew his mind was still racing with the outcome of that last hunt, whatever that was. But his eyes looked lighter; calmer.

“Don’t be,” you reached up and touched his face. “You okay?” Your eyes moved back and forth between his; as much as you loved Sam, while he wouldn’t lie to you, you knew he would fib from time to time to protect you.

“Yeah,” he sighed, but his eyes told you he wasn’t. He knew you could tell. He pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapped around your back tighter than they had before. His lips found that same spot on your neck once more.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked quietly as you brought your hands up to his hair to twist the strands around your fingers; you knew well enough that the feeling of you playing with his hair was calming to him.

He shook his head against your skin, bringing his face up once more. “Not really.” You knew what that meant. The hunt hadn’t gone entirely as planned, and while you were thankful your boyfriend and his brother had made it out mostly unscathed, they most likely had lost a victim in the process.

“Okay,” you brushed the tips of your fingers against his cheek. “You want to eat something?”

He smiled at the array of food you had placed out on the counter top. “Not right now. Ya know, you don’t have to make a five-course meal every time we go out to hunt.” He chuckled.

“I know,” a sheepish grin pulled at the corners of your lips. “Busy hands, busy brain…it’s a good distraction sometimes.”

His brows creased a bit as his eyes grazed over your features with concern. He hated worrying you, but it was sort of part of the gig.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed as he moved to turn away from you. He rubbed at his forehead as he slowly walked by the kitchen table. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m just really sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You gave him a moment but he didn’t say anything, his back still facing you. “Hey,” you moved, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged. You weren’t nearly strong enough to make Sam budge—but he still turned towards you. “Talk to me, Sam. Please.”

He ran his hand down his face once more and sighed. “For this…” he waved his hand, his eyes followed around the bunker. “For bringing you into a life you never asked for.” He breathed.

You took a few steps to him and collected his hands in yours. “Hey,” you tried to catch his gaze. “Sam, look at me.” His eyes found yours—you could see the pain, the fear and the uncertainty. “You never asked for this life, either. That’s the thing about life. Sure, we can want things—but life tends to just happen, anyway.”

Sam closed his eyes as you brought your hands to his face, cupping either side of his face tenderly. “It’s different being born into this life and choosing this life, Y/N.”

“Here’s the thing, Sam,” your voice barely above a whisper, but you wanted to be certain he could hear it. “I didn’t choose this life, but I chose you. And if this life comes along with you, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His eyes closed again, almost as if he was disappointed. “Nothing lasts forever, Y/N.”

Your teeth grazed your bottom lip as you pondered. You wanted to do anything to make him know you weren’t leaving; that you wouldn’t go anywhere. You moved your hands to the collar of his flannel, pulling him to you as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Your lips were on his before he had a second to interject. He brought his hands to the hem of your tank top—his fingers moved quickly to grip your warm skin.

“Wait,” he pushed gently, his eyes still closed. “This doesn’t solve anything. I just…I want you to be safe.”

You smiled back at him, your fingers reaching up to his face. “I am safe, because you keep me safe. I’m not afraid, Sam. I don’t want you to be, either.”

Sam’s eyes darted back and forth between yours. His jaw tightened once, twice…and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours. His hands put pressure on your hips as he hoisted you on to the edge of the counter, just in front of the sink. You focused on not tipping backwards, but you knew his hands wouldn’t let you fall. He used his body to push between your legs, your knees separating. As your lips danced together, he pulled back momentarily to work their way down your jawline to your neck. His tongue moved strategically over your sweet spot—the one that made your eyes roll back and close involuntarily.

“Sam,” you breathed. “Sam, wait…” you used everything in your power as you flattened your hands on his chest and pushed slightly. He broke the suction with your skin and looked over you. “Listen, I am seriously enjoying this…trust me. But I really don’t want your brother to walk in on us in the kitchen. It might ruin food for him forever.”

Sam couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. “I don’t think there’s anything in the world that could ruin food for Dean.”

You moved your head from side to side as you contemplated—he was probably right. “But still, can we take this somewhere else?” You couldn’t help the glint in your eyes or the way your teeth pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and bit down gently.

His lips widened in a smile. “We can do that.”

He lifted your hips off of the counter top and lowered you so your feet were back on the floor. Sam’s hand found yours, fingers locking together. You followed as he led you to his bedroom, closing the door and escorting you to the edge of the bed you had shared together for over a year now. As you sat, you watched him slowly unbutton the clean shirt he had just put on.

“Hey,” you breathed and reached for his hand. “Listen, I know you believe nothing lasts forever…” you looked down as you played with his fingers, your fingertips tracing small circles over the top of his hand. “But can you accept that you are my forever, and I’m yours?”

He broke his eye contact with you with a breath. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “For now, I can accept that.” He whispered.

“I’ll take it,” you smiled. Your lips returned to his, just as his hand cupped your face.

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts, maybe some things last forever after all

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you have any feedback!

#sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #oneshot #supernatural one shot

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 4

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: violence, blood, language

I was taken to a shower room. With no other exit than the door we came in through, it seemed the Tweedles felt it would be safe enough to leave me alone in there.

I showered for an eternity. The water was hardly warm, and it smelled moldy in the room, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me, scrubbed every inch of my body with a bar of soap on a string. I ran my hand down my injured ribs, and winced at the pain. Remembering Flags hand touching that same spot but an hour before, I smiled to myself. His touch then had been gentle, and my mind wandered into a more pleasant direction. A bang on the door interrupted my train of thought.

“Finish up!”, a voice called. I turned off the water.

A clean set of clothes had been laid out. Another tank top, this one not cut into pieces, a clean set of underwear, and a pair of orange pants, with much too long legs for me. I folded them up, to right bellow my knees, and finally put on the slip-on shoes that completed the outfit.

Calling out, I let the twins know I was ready.

After eating the mac’n’cheese and jello that was pushed through the hatch in the door, I slept deeper than I ever had, on the small cot that had appeared in my cell, while I was being questioned – or recruited, I wasn’t sure which it was. The last thing I saw before drifting of, was loose wire hanging from the corner of the ceiling, where the thermal camera had once been. I wasn’t being watched anymore.

---

I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked; I sprang up from where I had been laying, fully awake, and on high alert. Two guards stepped in to the room. Not Flags men.

What the fuck is this?, I panicked, and took a stance, preparing for a fight.

Grabbing me by the wrists, they spun me around, locking my arms behind me. They held me like this, as Griggs stepped into the room, and looked me up and down.

“You look even better clean, puss”, he leered at me.

I lifted my knee, and stomped down onto the foot of the guard to my right. Letting go of my arm, he yelped; and I swung my arm, punching Griggs in the face.

Covering his mouth with a scream, he then slapped me hard, making my ears ring.

“You goddamn bitch”, he said, blood running from his busted lip. I laughed at him; and made to get another hit in, when the second guard holding me, kicked me behind my knee; making me lose balance, and topple over.

Laying face down on the ground, someone put a knee on my back, holding me down, as my ankles and wrists were put in cuffs. Spewing all of the worst profanities I knew, I then twisted my neck, biting at the guard holding down my shoulders. I narrowly missed him, and another hand held my head down, making my forehead meet the concrete.

“Watch it, dumbass. We need her whole!”, Griggs spat. He pulled a sack over my head.

They carried me like this, down the corridor, as I screamed and cussed. This isn’t supposed to happen, I thought. Where’s Flag? Waller, even?.

I hadn’t officially accepted Wallers “offer” of joining her circus. Was this payback for my little stunt yesterday? Was I being sent back to Gotham? Or were they taking me somewhere to end my suffering.

A sharp pain in my ribs – from a boot, I figured – made me consider whether euthanasia wouldn’t be a kinder fate.

A door opening and closing behind us. The temperature changed. The air was damp, and the sack on my head stuck to my skin, making it difficult to breathe.

I heard the sound of a gate opening. “Freak transport”, Griggs voice called. Laughing.

Another door. I was made to stand, and my feet were uncuffed. I heard the sound of hip hop music. More musical torture? Metallic clanking, and I was pushed forward harshly, almost falling over.

“Get that shit of her”, Flags voice said. Thank God.

“Careful. This one has sharp teeth”, Griggs said; and someone pulled the sack of my head.

Blinking, adjusting to the light; I examined the room. About 100 yards deep, 50 yards wide. From the looks of it, an old indoor basketball court. My calculations turned out to be right, as a tall, dark man, wearing the same outfit as my own, was shooting hoops at the end of the room, never missing one throw. He turned in my direction, and looked at me, then Griggs busted lip, and laughed to himself.

In one corner a large figure, wearing a hoodie, sat with his back to me, watching BET on a small flat screen. In another, a man covered from head to toes in tattoos – I could tell, as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or shoes – was doing pushups.

Flag walked up from behind me, staring me down.

“Welcome to the gym”. He took out a set of keys, and uncuffed my hands. “I can handle it from here”, he said to Griggs.

“Are you sure, sir? She seems cranky”, Griggs answered, and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

“I’m sure, asshole. If we need anything, I’ll let you know. Now get”.

“Dick”, Griggs muttered, and walked out the large door we had come through. The metallic sound started, and then made a last large clank, as it shut behind him and his guards.

Flag examined my face, and stroked his fingers across the small cuts on my forehead, from my former spat with the guards.

“You need to be careful, kitten. I won’t always be around; so if you piss them off again, I might not be able to help you”.

“You weren’t there to help me this time, and I made out fine on my own”, I retorted.

Flag moved his hand down to my belly, looking at the blood on my top, lightly touching it.

“I can see that”, he said, removed his hand, and continued. “You ripped your stitches”.

“I’m fine”, I pouted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our newest team member”, Flag called out. “Y/N Y/L/N. Also known as Chess”.

The man with the basketball, turned around, and made a final throw over his shoulder; and the ball went straight into the hoop, then bounced away across the floor.

The tattooed man stopped his workout, and walked towards us.

“Croc, did you hear me? Get your ass over here”, Flag shouted.

The large figure turned of his television, got up, and walked towards us, pulling the hood off his head. For a second, I was tempted to run, or even do something as embarrassing as hide behind Flag. The tall mans face was covered in what looked like scales; and it took me a hot second to realize that was his actual skin.

Killer Croc. I’d heard of him.

“Don’t worry, cher’. I ain’t gonna bite”, he growled at me; showing his terrifying teeth, in what I guess was supposed to be a smile. In spite of his appearance and reputation; I instantly felt calmer, from his use of the cher’ endearment. It reminded me of Sammy.

Sammy. “What happened to the owner of the club?”, I asked, voice shaking.

“He’s fine”, Flag answered. “I bumped him on the head a bit, when he tried to stop me from going after you. But I left a large tip for him. He’ll be able to make next months payment to whichever scumbag is using their protection scheme on him”.

I exhaled, relieved.

“And my cats?”, I remembered, panic returning.

“Your neighbor has them. Don’t worry”.

Good. Selina was sweet, though a bit kooky; and she seemed to love cats, more than even I did.

“All your loose ends are tied up, and as long as you behave, they’ll stay that way”.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are using my cats to blackmail me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered shortly, and smirked.

By now, the three men were gathered in front of me.

“Where the hell is Harley and Digger?”, Flag called.

“Harley had feminine things to do”, basketball guy answered, before being interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Flag! The british guy was watching me on the toilet again!”. A curvaceous but lean woman appeared in a doorway to my right. She was dragging the rugged looking unicorn man, by his ear; storming towards us.

“I’m Australian, you crazy bitch”, he yelped; and she yanked him by his ear to the ground, putting a foot on his neck.

“Whatever. Do it again, and I’ll punch you in your kangaroo pouch!”, the woman hissed, and kicked him in the chest, before walking over to us. Once she saw me, her face instantly went from murderous to gleeful, and she reached out her hand to greet me.

“Harley Quinn. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said; grabbing my hand, and pulling me in to a tight hug.

Surprised, I simply patted her back, and then pulled away.

“You smell nice”, she whispered in my ear, before stepping back to join the others.

I was suddenly terrified and ecstatic at once. The queen of Gotham. It was like meeting actual royalty; if that royalty was crazy as hell, and had access to weapons.

They stood there; a motley crew of deadly weirdos, smiling and/or grimacing at me.

“Diablo. Deadshot. Killer Croc. Harley Quinn. Captain Boomerang. This is Chess”.

Basketball mans – correction, Deadshots – eyes lit up.

“You’re the invisible girl”.

“That’s her”, Flag answered.

“Can you talk for yourself, mami?”, asked the tattooed man – Diablo.

“I always thought a woman should be seen and not heard”, said Digger.

I smiled, disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was back on the floor, wincing in pain, from my knee on his back. I leant towards his ear, still invisible.

“Are you sure about that?”, I purred, and dug my nails into the skin of his neck.

He yelped, turning around quickly; and I fell back, landing on my butt, before I sprang up, to stand next to Flag. Only then I made myself visible again.

Digger scrambled to get to his feet, and stepped towards me; a sneer on his face.

Flag stepped in front of me spreading his arms, as if protecting me. What is up with this guy?, I thought.

Deadshot stepped forward to face Digger, and Croc took a hold of his arms, holding him in place.

“Stay cool, man”, Deadshot said. “Looks like we’re going to be working with this lady now, so you need to back of”.

Digger settled down, but not before shooting me a look I couldn’t figure out whether was angry, or strangely aroused.

Flag turned to face me. “That wasn’t very smart”, he smiled.

“What? He has a mouth on him”, I answered.

“The last guy who used that sentence, lost his spot on this team in a pretty bad way. The spot you are now going to fill”. He went to stand next to me again, folding his arms across his torso.

“What happened to him?”, I asked.

“We don’t talk about it”, Harley pouted. “It was kind of gross. Speaking of which! Did you get yours yet?”. She sprang forward, putting her hand on my neck, as if searching for something.

“That’s the next step”, Flag said. He reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange looking gun.

None of the crew in front of me would look me in the eyes. Only Deadshot furrowed his brow, and kept eye contact with me; then pushing his lips into a thin line, before mouthing sorry.

Flag put the gun to my neck, and before I had time to react with anything more than a gasp, he pulled the trigger, and a sharp pain – there one second, gone the next – spread throughout the skin around the wound he’d made.

He let me go, lowered the gun, before meeting my eyes with a pained look. “It’s official”, he said, and put the gun into its holster.

I stood there. Mouth agape. Confused.

Deadshot stepped forward, patted my shoulder once, and then walked back towards the basketball.

“Welcome to the Suicide Squad”, he called out, made a shot, and the ball went into the hoop again.

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#rick flag imagine #rick flag fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn