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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

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Wild Horses

Part 3

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

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now back to the current.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you need any help?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Soap? How?”

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

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

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

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

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

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

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

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

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

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

"The fuck is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

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

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

Right. "What kind is it?”

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

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

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

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re downright hideous.”

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

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What time will you be back?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The fuck are those?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

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

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

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

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What-what happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. No, I’m fine.”

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

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

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

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

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

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

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

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

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

“I will?”

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

"Oh.....okay."

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

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

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

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

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

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

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

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

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

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

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

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

Now, moving on.

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

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

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

“Ghost?”

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

“Is everything alright?”

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

“You’re not hurt are you?”

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

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

“Another time.”

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

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

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

“Well? Whadya want?”

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

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

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

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

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

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

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

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

“…………….”

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

“……………………..”

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

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

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

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

"I'll do it."

“What-“

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

“Alrigh-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“……………….”

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

“REM.”

“……………….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

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

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

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

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

Part 4

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

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johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend · 5 months

Text

shower situation (smut) part 2

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3

word count: 0.8k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - fluff, eventual smut

you guys had made it to Gally's hut, which was decently spaced with little decorations. there was a bed, nightstand and a lamp, but the area itself was as spacious as it could be for a hut.

"Alright greenie, here's your pillow." he throws it to you, "You take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor." the floor was wooden, so at least it wasn't just grass. however, you still felt bad for him. "Are you sure? I can sleep on the floor, I don't mind at all." he scoffed a little, "No, its fine." you sat on the bed and watched as he lied down on the floor. he looked at you, making you pat the bed, telling him it was okay to sleep there. Gally has a skeptical look on his face, but he knew that sleeping on the ground would make everything hurt like hell, so he decided to go with you. he made himself comfortable with the blankets and with his side of the full sized bed, leaving little room for the both of you. you turned away, "Goodnight, Gally." he couldn't see the tint on your cheeks nor the smile on your face. "Night, Y/N." there were so many butterflies in your stomach at this point, making you like him even more...as a friend, right? (wrong)

the two of you couldn't stay away from eachother the whole night though. when you woke up, you were faced away from him, his arms were wrapped around you with his head tucked in the crook of your neck. you didn't dare move, almost as if a bomb would explode if you did. you were too tired to do anything anyways. it stayed like that for a while until you heard him grunt and wake up. "Are you awake?" he muttered quietly. you didn't know whether to respond or stay quiet. you went with the safer option and closed your eyes, not saying anything. while you pretended to still be asleep, he actually hugged you tighter, whispering a 'phew'. this position made you actually doze off, sleeping a little longer.

the light came through the hut walls, and the bed felt a little colder. you opened your eyes, seeing that Gally had left, presumably to head off with the builders. you heard a knock and someone was standing in the doorway, Newt. "Alright Y/N, rise and shine, you have to help the glade out someway." he had explained this the night before, how you had to choose a job to do. hoping that it was easy, you picked to be a track-hoe with Newt. "Okay, okay." you sighed, getting out of the bed.

after getting ready, you headed over to the gardens and were instructed to dig out the weeds. you didn't think there would be a lot, but apparently no one likes to dig out weeds. so there you were, you had spent almost the entire day shoveling those suckers out. someone taps you on the shoulder, Zart. "Hey I think you've done enough today." he says sincerely. you get up from your squat, "Thanks Zart." you say, lucky that someone had your back. just as he said that, the dinner bell rang. you groan as you walk away from the plants.

you were dirty, being covered in mud wasn't that pleasant and your whole body was aching. not to mention, you had also missed breakfast from sleeping in, with Gally. you start to smile at the thought as someone runs up to you. "Oh, hey Gally, what's up?" he joins you on your walk to the kitchen area. "You look like you've seen better days, greenbean." he laughs at the sight of you covered with dirt. "Wow, thanks. You know I could say the same for you." you say, spotting some flecks of wood on his shirt. he shuts up, raising his eyebrows. he walks you to the line for food. "Do you think I could eat with you?" you look up into Gally's eyes. "Uh, sure Y/N." he stutters a little. you join his group that consists of some other builders. you sat right next to him, laughing occasionally at his jokes, and putting your hand on his leg. it went unnoticed by everyone except for him. after eating, you wait for him to finish, it was already getting dark again. all you wanted to do was have a shower to remove all of the grime form yourself. you whisper to Gally, your hand still on his leg, "Can you take me to the showers, please?" he grabs your hand on his thigh, "Alright boys, I'll see you later." he stands up from the table, helping you get out of the bench.

as you walk to the bathroom area, your hands still stay interlocked with one another.

remember this is all on my wattpad <3 (link in bio)

#willpoulter #gally smut #maze runner gally smut #maze runner gally #gally maze runner #gally x reader #will poulter smut #tmr gally #gally x y/n #gally x reader smut #the maze runner #will poulter x reader smut #will poulter x reader #gally x y/n smut

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multi-fandom-of-madness · 7 months

Text

Essential Oil

Flufftober Day 2: Napping

Pairings: Mountain X GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: It’s literally just napping with Mountain

Warnings: None

Word Count: 524

Notes: Read here on ao3. Find my flufftober prompt list here. @ the anon who requested the Phantom X Reader for this prompt, trust that it will be written, just as a separate story. I’ve gotten a lot of Phantom X Reader prompts, so I’m trying to make sure I have them dispersed and not repeat the pairings two days in a row. Much love ~Bat <3

After a long day of chores, you were looking forward to relaxing, preferably in your own room. It wasn’t like the chores were awful or that there were too many. Sometimes it’s just too draining to do work in that regard, especially when you’d much rather stay in bed or go out and have fun.

Yeah, you had a few days to yourself, but chores can suck, and they’re chores for a reason. They could be fun, but they weren’t.

It also doesn’t help that it stormed last night, keeping you up and only allowing you to get a whopping two hours of sleep. All you knew was that it was time for a nap.

It felt like such a long walk to your room to the point that even making it that far was draining your energy. The droll, stone halls of the Abbey made sure to keep the walk boring, other than the few interesting tapestries or paintings that occasionally lined the wall.

You tried to keep yourself entertained, thinking of what you could do for dinner, what suggestions you could give for the garden, and even just thinking about potential weekend plans. Yet nothing kept away the droop in your eyes or the way your feet dragged.

You eventually considered just laying down in the middle of the hallway for someone to find you, but luckily, there was a certain ghoul that you just loved to curl up with right around the corner.

You pushed the doors open to the ghoul’s den, ignoring those who were in the lounge, and making your way to Mountain’s room. The door creaked as you opened it and you noticed the lights off. He was facing the windows, but turned his head when he heard you come in.

His room was warm and comforting. There were plenty of plants lining shelves and window sills, which provided the room with a rich, earthy scent.

“Did I wake you?” You asked, crawling on to the ginormous bed that was filled with pillows, furs, blankets, and whatever else made its way in.

He hummed and shook his head. “No,” he yawned. “I was getting ready to nap, but hadn’t gotten there yet.”

Once you made it under the covers, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, burying his nose in your hair, smelling your shampoo, but also letting your natural scent soothe him.

“You smell good,” he muttered, eyes closed, holding you as close as he could.

You smiled, taking in his own earthy scent that also mingled with the honeysuckle body wash he uses. “You do too.”

“Yeah, but your scent is so…calming. Like my own personal lavender…thing.”

“Thing?”

“I could call you an essential oil, but you are much better than that,” he chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad I’m your personal essential oil,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiled back and hummed, pulling you impossibly closer.

“I’m gonna nap now,” he mumbled, pressing his face back into your hair.

There was no response from you, but he didn’t need it. He liked the quiet. It was comfortable. It was perfect.

#ghost #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #ghost x reader #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #mountain #mountain x reader #mountain ghoul x reader #mountain ghost x reader #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #ghostober #ghostober 2023

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pocketjoong · 9 months

Text

❥𓂃𓏧CELEBRATE

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS) Hongjoong isn't there to celebrate your birthday, so he pulls a few strings to make sure you know how much he loves you.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) self-indulgent. mentions of food and drinking. maybe language? not edited. LOTS OF FLUFF! lmk if I am missing something

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 2.71k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) It's 12 am and it's my birthday, so I decided to gift myself a little something. Lol~ Sorry for any craziness ahaha. I always enjoy feedback, reviews, and asks so don't hesitate to comment/send an ask!

Buzz. Buzz.

The constant buzzing of your phone wakes you up much earlier than you would have liked. It’s still early, and a cursory glance at your digital clock confirms that it’s, in fact, only a few minutes past 7 a.m.— too early for you to be awake. Since the buzzing has stopped, you decide to turn to your side and fall back asleep. Well, you try to, for the very next moment, your phone buzzes again. Eventually, it drops from the nightstand and onto the floor with a loud clatter. The sound makes you open your eyes a fraction, and with a sigh, you struggle to reach your phone while still trying to stay in the warmth of your blankets. After many unsuccessful attempts, you manage to grab the device and unlock your phone, the sudden brightness making you squint your eyes. However, your frown turns into a smile when you see who the messages and missed calls are from.

Joongie♡ [07:00 AM]: Wake up

Joongie♡ [07:00 AM]: Love~ Wake up!!

Joongie♡ [07:01 AM]: Darling~ I know you hate waking up early, but please

Joongie♡ [07:01 AM]: Since you’re not waking up, I will call you until you do

Two missed calls from Joongie♡

Y/N [7:15 AM]: It’s literally 6 in the morning for you right now. Why are you awake?

Y/N [7:16 AM]: Actually, a better question would be, why do you want me to wake up at seven in the morning? I have the rest of the day off. Let me sleep some more.

Dropping the phone onto the bed, you pull up the blanket to your chin, cuddling into the pillow by your side with a pout. Hongjoong is not even in the same country as you (not that you can blame him, he has a concert soon), but it does make you slightly sad not to have your boyfriend around for your birthday.

When your phone buzzes yet again, you finally sit up on your bed, giving up on the idea of sleep and swipe the screen to pick up the call.

“You better have a very good reason for waking me up at 7 AM on my birthday, Kim Hongjoong.”

“I’m so sorry, darling,” You hear the warm laughter of your boyfriend and notice that his voice is slightly gravelly, indicating that it’s not been long since he woke up either, which makes your heart skip a beat. “But just because I’m not home doesn’t mean that I don’t have a few things planned for your birthday. So, get up because you’re getting breakfast delivered within the next ten minutes.”

“Why this early, though?” You know Hongjoong, and he’s not someone who does things without a plan.

“You’ll find out soon, my love,” he sing-songs. He pauses when he hears the doorbell ring on your side of the line and hums. “Well, looks like food’s here already. Eat well, jagi, for you have an interesting day ahead. I’ll be in practice and at a conference, so I hope you don’t run into any issues. But if you do, call manager hyung, he’ll help you out.”

“What?” Your brain tries to catch up and process his words, for you’re still in the process of waking up.

“You’ll understand soon. I love you, bba bba~”

And with that, he hangs up, leaving you blinking at your phone until the doorbell rings again, and you scramble out of bed, answering the door with a sigh.

“There’s a delivery for you,” the guy at the door says, handing you a bouquet of Stargazer lilies. He also gives you a bag with the logo of your favourite bakery stamped onto it, and a cursory gaze inside reveals a coffee cup along with two other boxes you can’t wait to open.

Walking to the kitchen, you look around the bouquet for a card, eyes lighting up in joy when you find one. You put the takeout bag on the counter and settle down on the counter stool, carefully unfolding the card to read what’s written.

My love,

Happy Birthday! I do apologise for waking you up so early today of all days, especially when you have a rare day off. But I have so much planned for today, so firstly, enjoy your breakfast. It’s your favourite coffee, along with that sandwich you can’t seem to get enough of (and, of course, a chocolate croissant as well). After you’re done, go to your closet and check out the innermost corner for your ootd! There’s another note there to guide you on what you’re supposed to do next.

Also, I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for your presence in my life. I’m sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you, but I hope that what I have in store for you can bring you a fraction of the joy that you bring into my life. I love you so much, my love.

Yours forever,

Kim Hongjoong

You can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you finish reading the note, and you doubt that you’d be able to stop smiling throughout the day. Curious as to what your lover has in store for you, you decide to enjoy the little treat on your balcony, soaking in the early August sun before you set out on whatever surprise it is that Hongjoong has put together for you.

Locking your door behind you, you walk to your car with a spring in your step. It’s past 9 AM, which means there are a few cars on the road, and it takes you a few extra minutes to reach your destination. The outfit Hongjoong has decided for you is, unsurprisingly, a blend of your styles. Having known each other for close to eight years and dating for three of them, it isn’t astonishing that your personal styles have blended together somewhat. You reach the location Hongjoong had written down on the second note and find yourself in front of a spa.

After a relaxing few hours at the spa, you’re given another note from the person at the reception desk. You thank them with a smile, feeling rejuvenated and lighter as you exit the building. You wait until you’re in the car to read the note, your lips already quirking up at the corners as you unfold the piece of paper.

I hope you enjoyed getting pampered and that it made up (somewhat) for getting woken up so early. I think you still have some time, so head over to my studio! Just text Maddox hyung before you leave for the company. He will meet you at the parking and take you upstairs. I hope you’re looking forward to this particular surprise because I sure am!

You text Maddox, giving him a head up, before driving to the company, and as expected, he’s waiting for you in the underground parking lot. When you step out of the car, you’re engulfed in a hug.

“Happy birthday,” the older male greets you when you break apart from the hug. “Ooooh, someone looks radiant today.”

You laugh, explaining you’d just come from the spa as you wait for the lift to arrive at the basement level. You chat about this and that until Maddox opens the door to Hongjoong’s studio and leaves you with a knowing smile that has you confused. Before he walks away, though, he hands you another note. This time there’s an envelope as well, which he tells you to read after doing what the first one says.

Foregoing the couch, you settle down in Hongjoong’s chair, smiling when you feel as if you’re being hugged by the man himself. Your boyfriend spends an insane amount of time in this chair, and you’re not surprised that it’s so comfy. You unfold the first note, and your eyebrow quirks up in surprise when you realise that, unlike the other ones, this is handwritten.

Happy birthday once again, my love!

I’m glad that you’ve made it this far into my little surprise for you. But sit tight, cause this is just the beginning. Boot the computer and click on the folder on the desktop with your name. I hope you like this little surprise, lovely.

Yours,Joongie.

With furrowed brows, you boot the computer. It doesn’t take you long to find the folder he’s talking about, for the folder is towards the middle of the screen, away from other folders that contain files of whatever he’s working on currently. You open the folder, only to find a single audio file. You click on it, and in an instant, the sounds of an acoustic guitar echo throughout the studio, followed by Hongjoong’s soft singing.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January…”

Your hand flies to your mouth, muffling the gasp that leaves your lips as Hongjoong sings Taylor Swift’s Lover, the song he sang to you when he had asked you to be his girlfriend in this very studio. While listening to the audio file, you realise that his vocals have improved since three years ago, bringing a proud smile to your face. As the song moves to its end, the tears that had been blurring your vision finally fall, streaming down your cheeks as you close your eyes, drowning yourself in Hongjoong’s beautiful vocals. The last chords fade out, and you move to close the window, only to realise that there are still a couple of minutes left.

“Surprised?” *Hongjoong laughs* “Well, I hope you were. As I mentioned in the note, it’s only the beginning of the surprise, darling. I think it’s time for you to open the envelope, I’ll give you a few seconds to do so, so be quick.

Despite rolling your eyes at the screen, you tear the envelope open gently, only to choke on air when you realise they’re plane tickets—plane tickets to Bangkok, to be precise, the exact place where Hongjoong is right now.

“Yes, these tickets are for you.” You flinch at his voice, suddenly remembering that the audio is still playing. “There’s a bag behind the couch with everything you’ll need, your passport, a few travelling essentials, and some clothes because you’ll be staying with us until the concert! Anyways, leave soon, for if I calculated correctly, you currently have two hours to reach the airport, and traffic is always bad on a Friday.”

You glance at the clock in the studio, and sure enough, you have just about two hours to board the flight. Touched, but also amused by your boyfriend’s shenanigans, you curse him under your breath before shutting down the computer and grabbing the bag before you’re running back downstairs.

After all, you do have a flight to catch.

Taking a deep breath, you place your palm on the door to the hotel roof. The butterflies in your stomach remind you of the very first date you had with Hongjoong, even though it was nothing as fancy as what this will be, considering the dress laid out for you in your room.

You were a bit surprised when Yunho was the one to meet you at the airport because you’d been expecting their manager instead of one of the members of ATEEZ. He drove you to the hotel and sneaked you inside Hongjoong’s hotel room, which was devoid of said guy. You turn to Yunho in question, but he just told you to wash up and wear what his hyung had left out for you before meeting him at the rooftop.

And now, here you stand, taking deep breaths to calm your furiously beating heart. It’s just Hongjoong behind the doors, you remind yourself before opening said door. Whatever you had been expecting is far from the sight that awaits you. The rooftop is dark, save for the roof patio that is lit up by twinkling fairy lights. There are also flower petals strewn on the roof, which make a path towards the patio, under which there is a sofa that sits atop a carpet and a low table that’s lit up by a few candles. And in the middle of it all, stands a smiling Hongjoong, donned in a black suit. When he sees that you’re frozen at the door, he walks up to you, reaching for your hand to lead you towards the couch gently.

“Joong…” You’re at a loss for words as you look around the patio, only for your eyes to land on the beautiful view of the city. “You…”

“I’m glad you like this,” he smiles, and you are momentarily distracted by the way the twinkling lights reflect off of his face. He notices the slightly dazed look on your face and caresses the side of your face before leaning in to kiss you softly. He lingers against your lips, pressing his own against yours again and again and again until you’re drunk off of him and can register nothing but his lips and his hands resting against your waist. His kisses, like everything else this man does, are calculated and passionate yet soft enough for you to feel the love he pours into each of his movements.

It’s only a while later that Hongjoong pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. His lips are red and swollen by the intensity of your kisses, “As much as I love this, I didn’t fly you all the way here for this.”

A giggle leaves your lips, “What else do you have planned?”

“Nothing much, really; just wanted a few quiet minutes with you before the guys barge in with food and cake. They wouldn’t let me spend the last few hours of your birthday alone with you,” he huffs, rolling his eyes, but the fondness dripping in his tone tells you he isn’t annoyed at all. “So, champagne?”

You nod, already feeling cold, when he moves away from you to pick up two flutes from the side table. Hongjoong takes out the bottle of champagne from a mini-fridge you hadn’t even noticed in the corner and pours the drink into both glasses.

“Here’s to another year of growing older together,” his smile is blinding as he clinks his flute against yours.

You hum at the taste, grinning back at Hongjoong. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you sip your drinks. Eventually, your head finds its way onto your lover’s shoulder, whose arm settles around your waist unconsciously.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

“Right now?”

Hongjoong hums, “We don’t have to. But the guys are probably going to come in like…” he checks his watch, “...ten minutes. And I kinda really want to hold you close until our problem children decide to hog you.”

“Our problem children? I thought they were your and Hwa’s kids.”

He narrows his eyes at you, batting you away with a huff. “I don’t want to dance anymore.”

You laugh because he’s actually pouting and stand up, extending a hand, “Well?”

Hongjoong sighs, muttering, “You’re lucky you’re cute, and I love you,” under his breath as he takes your hand before playing a nice slow song on his phone.

His hands rest against your waist while you loop yours around his neck and tuck yourself close to him as you sway to the music. “Thank you for today, Joongie. I wasn’t expecting the day to turn out the way it did, and… I just… I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too,” Hongjoong leans down to kiss your forehead. “Happy birthday.”

The very next moment, the door opens with a squeak, and the two of you break away from each other to see seven silhouettes making their way towards you.

“Enough hogging her, hyung! She’s our friend too,” Wooyoung screams at the top of his lungs, making Hongjoong shush him with a glare as you laugh.

“Happy birthday,” Yeosang tells you softly while Hongjoong scolds the second youngest for causing so much noise.

“Thank you, Yeo.” You smile, catching Jongho’s eyes, who is setting up the table with food with the rest of them as if their leader isn’t scolding one of them, not even a few feet away.

#outlaw/celebrate #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #hongjoong imagines hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong headcanons #hongjoong reactions #hongjoong fluff #cromernet

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alohajun · 1 year

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♡ MY PILLOW — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

bf!seungcheol x gn!reader | wc : 0.7k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, domestic fluff, mentions of insomnia, mentions of schedules | loki’s lines : atp i'm in too deep 😭 also why can i write for everyone except my biases and it's all your fault ash 😭 @ethereal-engene

"how many nights does it take to count the stars?"

you wondered to yourself, watching the ceiling fan rotate slowly above you, glancing between it and the neon star stickers on your ceiling, trying to fall asleep.

feeling your eyes droop, you turned to the side, getting a glance at your bedside clock before you slept. 02:14, it read. the blissful sleep didn't last long.

you opened your eyes again, knowing very well your sleep was short-lived. and looking at your clock, which read 02:21, you realised you only got seven proper minutes of sleep.

"i can't do this anymore!" you yelled, thrashing around in your bed and throwing your blankets to the side. "i just want to sleep!" you sat up on your bed, hugging your knees and letting out the frustrations of the past few sleepless weeks.

after what seemed like forever, you took a few more deep breaths, gathering the strength to at least go to the living room.

alas, only more tears made their way down your face, frustrated with the situation of not being able to fall asleep.

finally, getting yourself off the bed, you were about to fall back when you heard the front door open, signaling someone had entered your house.

and considering it was two in the morning, it could only be one person.

you went towards your front door, peeking quietly and watching the person you had expected to walk in.

choi seungcheol. due to his crowded schedule, he was staying at the dorms, away from you. usually, seungcheol wasn't the one to make late-night appearances, but he felt the need to come to you — even though it was really late.

and meeting your tear-filled eyes as soon as he walked inside, seungcheol thanked whatever gut feeling he got, relieved he could be there for you.

seungcheol looked at you with a fond smile, closing the door and dropping his bag to the floor. "couldn't sleep?" he questioned, extending his arms as he invited you into his embrace. "hey, it's alright. i'm right here, babe." he rubbed your back, assuring you he wasn't going anywhere.

"i know," you answered, wiping away your tears now that you knew seungcheol was there. “it's so frustrating when you want to sleep, but can’t.” a sad smile came on your face when you saw him nod, wordlessly agreeing with you.

you couldn't sleep because of your insomnia. and seungcheol couldn't sleep because he had too many things to do.

both of you suffered whenever you two were apart, but when together, a peaceful sleep was always guaranteed.

"let's go get some much-needed sleep!"

"yay! let's go!"

the two of you were like little children, racing to your room as you immediately found yourself in seungcheol's embrace, him holding you close as you two made yourselves comfortable.

"i missed this." seungcheol sighed in content, resting his chin on your shoulder. “no wonder i haven't been able to get any sleep these past weeks."

you smiled, hugging seungcheol's arms that he wrapped around you. "tell me about it. the number of times i've cried because i wanted to sleep and couldn't is unimaginable." you felt at ease at his touch, sighing in relief as he pulled you closer. "let's just catch up on sleep. two days at a stretch sound good to you?"

"make it five days." seungcheol's words made you laugh, making him feel the little vibrations against his chest. "i'm sorry i stayed so long at the dorms. i would've come earlier, but there was so much to do."

"it's alright, cheolie." you patted his arm in assurance. "it would've been difficult to keep coming and going from here, anyway. you are here now, and that's all that matters."

seungcheol tapped on your side, helping you turn around so he could see your face. "you are always so understanding." he brushed your hair out of your face, a smile of adoration on his face. "i wonder from time to time if everything is difficult on you."

"not at all. because i know at the end of the day, i have you!" you shook your head, placing your arms around the male as you rested your head on his chest. "now ... let's sleep," you murmured, oddly enough feeling drowsy.

seungcheol frowned slightly, patting the pillows you had abandoned to lie on his chest. "the pillows are right there, y/n." he didn't think your gesture was intentional, assuming you were going to move back.

"why use those when i have you? you are my new pillow, cheol."

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writting-for-a-chain-of-heros · 7 days

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Links divorce HC

Day 1:

Sky

Neglected

Tw: Divorce, depression, neglect and a lot of angst

He really didn't know how it happened but one day you both had gotten into a slow routine where you were both acting more like roommates than a couple

Or more specifically YOU stopped acting like his spouse

It was slow at first, little changes here and there that didn't seem like a big deal at first but looking back at them they were warning signs he should have considered before the situation escalated into this.

At first they were complaints about how tired you had been feeling lately, how busy you had been with helping to repair the damages your era had faced by Dark Link plus his goons and how forgetful you had started being on time to your dates with Sky.

Then you started to slowly sleep in more during the morning,which Sky couldn't protest against too much since it meant more time for him to sleep but also more time to cuddle with you in his arms as you rested against him.

But soon after it got to a point where even HE was concerned with how many days you'd spend doing nothing but laying in your covers with the rare exception of work that was also on the edge of being forgotten in exchange for sloth.

He'd try to get you to get out more often by suggesting some of the things you loved to do together, unfortunately they also didn't work.

You want to go exploring? Sorry not today, your legs feel weak :(

You want to go flying? The weather is too cold/hot/humid/sunny, maybe next time

Do you want to go spar for a few rounds? You have an upset stomach,your head hurts or you just don't have the energy for it today.

At some point you stop eating as much as you use to, in fact you're barely eating at all

He tries his best to be a good spouse by bringing the food to you in bed which results in you refusing to eat and leaving behind a full plate or only patrically eating it while leaving most of it behind

Every time he'd try to question you on why you haven't been going out or caring for yourself he's met with either silence or a half answer excuse.

“Can you tell me what's been bothering you?” He'd ask

“It's nothing, I am just in a funk, I'll get out of it soon,Link.”

He doesn't want to push you beyond your limits and he genuinely believes you when you tell him those lines over to him

It's ok

You're ok

Everything is ok.

You're just in a bad mood, this will pass in time

He just needs to give you space and comfort then you'll be back to the same old you from before.

He just has to wait and be patient.

That's what he tells himself for weeks as you slowly start to get worse and worse over time.

It was bad enough when you were both acting so distant but now he was less of a spouse and more like a parent now.

It has been 6 months and you had stopped do all chores, stopped feeding yourself, stopped showering, stopped working, stopped going on dates completely and stopped,well, basically doing everything except breathing

Sometimes you'd get up to go to the bathroom, maybe eat a little bit of the food Link had gotten you and that was it before you plopped back down to bed with the old stained blanket

The room would stink of day-old food that was barely touched and Link would have to be the one to toss it out while he did the dishes along with the rest of the household chores he had been doing alone for some time now.

He’d find himself having to drag you out of bed to clean you since you refused to do it yourself.

He'd change out the bed sheets,blankets, pillows you had been sleeping in for Hylia knows how long.

He'd brush your hair,brush your teeth,clip your nails, change your clothes,do the laundry & do his daily activities outside while you continue to show no progress

He tries to talk to you a few more times but you don't even bother to give an excuse anymore which leads to a lot of one sided arguments that only frustrate him more as the relationship becomes more strained.

He tries to get you to do couples counseling and tries to seek help from his friends to mediate the situation only for it to fail as well.

He wants to help you.

He really does but he doesn't know how.

But the most frustrating part of it all is that it seems as though you aren't even trying at all

After a year & a half of consistently trying he finally gives you an ultimatum.

You either seek professional help and try to get better or there's a divorce.

He loves you

He absolutely loves you

He wants to spend the rest of his life with you

But he can't stay with you if you refuse to do anything to change or improve

He feels neglected

He feels alone

He wants the bright person you used to be to come back...

Please..

……

…..

The relationship ends.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe x reader #chesse tag #cheese writes #angst #lu sky x reader #lu sky

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mugentakeda · 2 months

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they finally have a place.

its small, and needs some work done on it, but not anything they can’t fix themselves. they take the whole day to clean it out and finally move their bags and bedrolls inside. there are two big bedrooms, but they sleep together in the front room until they can get furniture. there’s also a washroom, with a decent sized wooden tub built into the raised floor. it’s a lucky find.

it’s a fourty-five minute walk away from the nearest town, but ursa is quite alright with that.

the next mornings breeze has a bite. she sits on the back porch with a blanket wrapped around her, watching azula and zuko meditate beneath agni’s rays together. they’ve been doing an incredible job lately, the two of them. with just about all of it- keeping the fighting at just a mild level, being as open as they can with them both (with lu ten, mostly, on azula’s part, but ursa can live with that. with time, perhaps she will feel like she can open up to ursa as well.), not being too negative about the weather or the bland food or the inability to firebend freely.

and she doesn’t feel like the fighting is only kept at a mild level to please lu ten, which is good. they do a lot, she’s noticed, to keep their cousin’s stress levels at a minimum. but this feels like they’ve been filling out the awkward patches left behind by ozai’s influence, which can only mean they’ve made peace with all these changes. a swell of pride warms her heart.

ursa sees them chatting while they sit together sometimes, and hears them whispering back and forth at night. its refreshing, after how ozai had tried to pit them against each other. she thought she’d have to help lu ten figure that out with them, but it seems they’ve been figuring it out themselves.

being even somewhat close to a large group of earth kingdom folks brings ursa’s nerves up. not as much as other things have in the past, because she’s doubtful anything can terrify her the way ozai’s looming presence always did, but certainly enough to keep her awake on some nights. her nephew has had little issue mingling with them, to ursa’s surprise, so he usually goes alone.

they have no choice but to be somewhat close to people. the town has a market, and they need furniture for this house. they need firewood, they need food, they need more blankets and pillows, they need cooking utensils and medicine and farming equipment and-

the familiar jolly tune of lu ten’s whistle announce his return, and snap ursa out of her angsting.

he’s dragging a wooden wagon covered in a ratty blanket. it’s got a lot of stuff underneath, she can tell. he’s gotten very good at haggling, even though they still have plenty of money leftover. but once they get the house furnished, ursa will just have to get over her fear of earth kingdom folks and get a job. besides, if lu ten has no issue with it, then maybe she won’t either.

“i got some stuff for good deals,” her nephew says cheerfully. “i got enough wood for maybe two beds and a table. i also got sewing supplies, along with fabric rolls and cotton. we can use that to make sitting cusions for the table.” he yanks the raggedy blanket all the way off, and shows off stacks of various things stuffed in the wagon. the children leap up and bounce over eagerly.

azula pulls out a jar wrapped in paper and cloth. there’s a light pink substance inside. “is this soap? thank agni,” she groans. zuko laughs as he shakes a pouch back and forth by his ear.

it’s a bunch of items without an overall theme. there’s lumber for building furniture, blankets, wrapped pouches of things ursa can’t tell of what, buckets of various sized stacked together, a teapot, wooden plates and bowls and cups, a little basket of many candles, a deep black pot, a large wrapped rug, white rags and towels, a saw and hammer.

“one of the pouches has string and clips for a clothing line,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “there’s also one with a bunch of nails for the furniture. i got spark rocks, too, just in case. i’m gonna make a few more trips today because i still need some stuff for the beds. the guy that sold me the wood told me to get some linseed oil for it, too.”

“what all do you need sewn? i can do that,” ursa volunteers. a bit eagerly, because she’s been feeling embarrassingly useless lately. doing the laundry doesn’t balance it out enough for her. her nephew doesn’t ask for much of anything of her, but she feels the need to earn her keep regardless.

her stomach twists, thinking about the dark days following azula’s birth. rotting away in bed while lu ten raised newborn azula in her stead for six whole months. shame and disgust at herself for allowing her fifteen year old nephew to bust his ass over a child that wasn’t his own, while she, a grown woman, who ought to be able to get over herself at this point, wallows in her misery and phantom pains.

allow this nephew the honor of helping you, he’d whispered to her, just before having a servant help him drag azula’s bassinet to his chambers. always the hand extended out to her amongst the smoke and the stink.

black hatred at ozai and the world outside of her own twists along with it.

“well, for now, just the sitting cushions. and pillows. probably some heavier blankets would be good, too. i need hay for the bedroll pads, though, so that can wait.”

“hay?” azula repeats, wrinkling her nose. “that doesn’t sound comfortable in the least bit.”

“we can stack blankets on top of the hay bedrolls,” zuko suggests. “like a pallet.”

her daughter hums neutrally. she looks unsure. she hasn’t complained much on the quality of anything too much, because she’s a trooper like that. but some things get on her nerves so much that she can’t help herself.

zuko can sleep on anything in any kind of weather at any time of day, though. so of course he doesn’t care about the idea of sleeping on hay.

“i suppose it’ll do,” azula sighs dramatically.

lu ten snorts and hands her a stack of blankets. “you and your brother go fight over who gets who.”

ursa sighs in amusement as the children almost immediately start bickering as they make their way inside.

“i think they’re good,” her nephew says appraisingly. “and eventually, they’ll be nosy and bored enough to come with me into the town. all good people.”

“is that so?” she mutters, a bit unbelievingly. “it’s a shame we can’t trust a colonial town, since they might know our faces.”

lu ten’s nose wrinkles. “the colonial towns further away from the homeland are just as much earth kingdom as this one, just with our soldiers and red drapes. i don’t think it really makes a difference.”

“you think?”

“yeah. i’ve done field trips through a few of them. the ones closest to the homeland have poor fire nation folk, and a decent amount of mixed kids. but the ones in the northwest are just regular-degular earth kingdom towns, with regular-degular earth kingdom folks. just forced to wear red and pay fire nation sales tax.”

he looks down at the plate he’s holding in his hands, and rolls it around glumly. “it’s weirder to me now than ever, since i’ve spent more time in one. i don’t know how to explain it out loud.”

there’s a period of awkward silence. she gets mixed signals from her nephew a lot nowadays, since he’s a young man now, with a lot of stuff going on in his head. perhaps it has something to do with iroh? she obviously knew of his indifference toward his father’s military ventures, as it was a driving force for him deciding to leave with her, but ursa always thought he just wanted to navigate his own path rather than be his father’s cheerleader. but lately, she’s begun to think it’s more complicated than that.

vaguely, she wonders how her brother in law is holding up. if lu ten heard anything about ba sing se while in town, he hasn’t mentioned it.

“tomorrow, i’d like a turn to go into town,” she says hesitantly. “we’ll still have some money left after furnishing the house, but i’ll need a job to help keep the income steady. i’d sooner die than take the kids out of one house of misery and put them in another. they’ll go to sleep with full bellies every night if i can help it.”

lu ten looks up and smiles at her admiringly. “i did pass by a flower shop,” he suggests. “might be something worth looking into.”

they start dragging the wagon closer to the porch so they can carry the stuff inside easier. “i’m not sure what i’ll do, personally. there’s a tea shop. maybe they can use another worker.”

“you’d be good at that,” ursa replies warmly. “you’re patient and empathetic, and make wonderful tea.”

he nods and grins again. her embittered pessimism couldn’t hold a candle to his perseverance and willpower, even on its worst days.

i’ve gotten this far, she muses. i’m free from my old chains, so the only thing holding me back now is myself. i refuse to try and do anything but preserve my peace from this day forward.

#i guess im rotating povs with this??????#idk how that happened. but we move #idk how i feel about ursas pov actually. i feel like i wasnt able to pull of a significant voice for her #which is highly annoying. But THATS OKAY. next time ill do better #runaway fire fam au #alicias writing stuff

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rubykgrant · 11 months

Text

(bringing back the "Rookie Grif and Simmons Meet Their Future Selves" picture because I thought of ways to expand it a little~ This all happens in a scenario where a new time god AI is messing with everybody, just for gits and shiggles, and this is one of the things that happens. the people who get pulled from their proper time-line eventually get sent back with erased memories and a "rewound" internal clock to avoid paradoxes, but some nonsense still happens!)

"Aw, look at how cute I was..."

"What the f- I don't call myself- I don't think- I'm not cute! Guys aren't cute!"

"Oh, shit, I forgot I was insecure as hell back then too. Damn,"

"You? Look at ME over there. Oh my God, I'm a baby!"

"NO! I'm 22! And that's- I mean, it's LITERALLY 4 years older than the legal voting age, and another year over the legal drinking age, so I'm a man! Chronologically! Mathematically! Legally!"

"I'm a repressed man-baby,"

After the initial shock of "another time displacement event has happened" wore off, Grif and Simmons- that is, the older Grif and Simmons, were casually amused to see their younger selves.

It really wasn't the worst thing an antagonistic AI with god-like power could do. So they had to baby-sit the two insecure and repressed Grif and Simmons with their little rookie buzz-cuts for a while. Big deal. They had already sorted out a similar situation with Tiny-Sarge, plus the angsty-teen versions of Carolina and Wash. As far as the older men were concerned, this was fine.

The two younger men (who were definitely MEN, and NOT cute) did not agree. The last thing they had been doing was fighting on the floor of the barracks; Grif had somehow managed to roll out of his cot, slowly slide onto the floor without making any noise, continue rolling until he reached the cot next to him, and while still out cold, wormed his way up onto the mattress, forcing out the person who had currently been sleeping there. Simmons.

Simmons responded by yanking his blankets out from under the intruder, which made Grif roll out of the cot yet again, this time quickly, and hitting the floor with a thud. He woke up pissed, and an argument quickly followed.

All around them, the other rookie soldiers had groaned, and tried to block the bickering with their own pillows. It just never ended with those two. Every single person who had trained with them hoped and prayed that they would NOT get sent to the same assigned base as Grif or Simmons... ESPECIALLY not Grif and Simmons TOGETHER.

Simmons tried to tackle Grif, which was a mistake, because Grif wasn't exactly an experienced fighter, but he knew a thing or two about how "playground wrestling" (which was like cage fighting, but with less rules). Grif had Simmons trapped in a tight hold, squawking empty threats, and then...

They weren't in the barracks anymore.

They were in what seemed to be a livingroom. A large livingroom in a fairly nice apartment. They were also between the TV and a huge couch, full of many unfamiliar people... except for three. Three of these people were familiar; another Grif, another Simmons, and- Grif's little sister? Kaikaina?

The young Grif and Simmons panicked, but the strangers seemed to only be mildly irritated. A short dude with dark hair and glasses swore, said something like- "Not THIS again". A gruff old guy, with a buzz cut of his own, looked at them almost wistfully, like a dad at his kids' graduation or something. Kai burst out laughing, and Grif couldn't process his sister being TALLER than him.

Several agonizing minutes later, explanations and introductions were made. The sarcastic dude with the glasses- Church, he went with a few of the others to "fix the problem". After a discussion, the rest of this group agreed to go out, buy some extra changes of clothes and supplies for the time-travelers in case they remained for an extended stay, and Grif and Simmons would stay at the apartment. With Grif and Simmons.

It was WEIRD.

"Why do our faces look all... jacked-up?" the younger Grif asked.

"AND WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING EACH OTHER LIKE THAT!?" the younger Simmons nearly screeched, pointing at the sight.

The older Grif and Simmons were standing together, in the kitchen. This Simmons had both arms drapped over Grif's shoulders, linked by holding one of hi wrists. This Grif stood with one arm bent, the hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other wrapped around Simmons' back, that hand resting on the other man's hip. Their middles were pressed together. All cozy and... intimate.

Also, the older Grif clearly had sections of his body covered in skin that was a shade lighter than the rest of him. The older Simmons had... robot parts? Robot parts! In the same areas, around the eye, one side of his jaw, and the left arm.

"Well... long story short, I got hurt, needed extra skin and organs and blood, so he shared..." older Grif answered, grinning like this was FUNNY somehow.

"Then a BUNCH of other stuff happened, and now we're married," older Simmons added, seeing the horrified looks of disbelief on the younger faces. "Trust me, this is NOT the weirdest part of our lives!"

"There is no way in HELL-"

"NO, this IS hell, this has to be hell, you choked me to death in the barracks, and I died, and this is some kind of torture in the afterlife!"

The younger Grif and Simmons were not taking things well.

"Calm down, don't get yourself all worked-up again!" the older Grif said to the younger Simmons. Somehow, his tone wasn't unkind. Younger Simmons didn't expect any version of Grif to sound like that. "You aren't dead, and this isn't hell. We can get into the philosophical implications about the afterlife later, if you chill out-"

"Oh man, they haven't even had that conversation yet!" the older Simmons chuckled.

"Ha, this is gonna be fun. But first thing's first..." Grif walked over to the fridge, and pulled out several containers. "I know myself, and back then, I was jonesing for pizza bad,"

"Dude, you have no idea..." the younger Grif forgot all about the issues he had with his future-self's taste in romantic partners, his taste in food was still acceptable.

"I absolutely have EVERY idea, I lived through your life up to this point. I remember that crappy military food, and the tiny portions. This pizza right here? Pepperoni, bacon, 2 kinds of mushrooms, 3 kinds of cheese, olives, and green bell peppers. I'm heating you up four slices, AND making chocolate milkshakes. Get ready to not feel like you're STARVING for the first time in months," the older Grif began preparing the food as his younger self followed behind, looking like he might start crying tears of joy.

"Maybe we DID die... except I went to heaven..." he mumbled quietly.

"Here, I know you'll like this..." the older Simmons opened another container, waving his younger self over. This Simmons was less food-motivated, and thus less trusting when offered a treat. Older Simmons was putting different portions of food onto a plate. "By the way- you aren't actually allergic to half the things you THINK you are,"

"I'm- I'm not?" younger Simmons cautiously asked.

"Nope. Mom and Dad just used to serve you under-cooked food because they followed all those stupid diet trends, and gave you food poisoning," older Simmons finished with the plate; it was Chinese food, chicken fried rice with various vegetables, pork chow mein, 2 potstickers, and spicy mandarin chicken. He put the plate in the microwave, heating it up for a couple of minutes.

The Grifs were off in happy-pizza-land, but the Simmons' weren't focused on the food. Younger Simmons noted the casual yet disdainful way the older Simmons spoke about their parents. It wasn't as if he didn't complain about them himself, he could get pretty loud and angry about his dad from time to time. It just... usually had more of a build-up. More of an emotional explosion. Which he always regretted later, and felt like he owed an apology to a man who hadn't even heard anything he said... this older Simmons was oddly more confident and open. Younger Simmons didn't even recognize that attitude in himself.

"So, you aren't allergic to everything. And those times you got sick, that wasn't your fault. You weren't the problem. Even the times you did get sick because of and actual food intolerance you have, that wasn't your fault either..." the plate was ready. Older Simmons handed it to younger Simmons with an encouraging smile, and motioned for him to go join the two Grifs at the kitchen table for milkshakes. Older Simmons got himself a plate of Chinese food as well, and sat down beside the older Grif. They had very little space between them. The younger Grif and Simmons were sitting at opposite ends of the table, trying very hard to NOT look at each other.

"You were serious before... you guys actually got married?" younger Simmons finally asked when he felt like his brain was working again. He could see both of the rings older Grif and Simmons wore. Wedding rings, on their ring fingers. Not only that, the rings matched; older Simmons had a dark red ring with a band of gold running through the center. Older Grif had a gold ring with a dark red band.

"Yep," older Grif said after a gulp of milkshake.

"WHY?" younger Grif had one eyebrow raised, utterly confused.

"I'm not sure. I think he tricked me," older Simmons deadpanned, but his poker-face broke almost immediately. The older Grif leaned against him, his head fitting into the crook of Simmons' neck, both men smiling in a satisfied way.

"No, really, why?" younger Simmons pressed the issue. "He's- he's the worst! He always makes a mess, he forgets to flush the toilet, he's lazy beyond all reason-"

"Oh yeah, and you're a dream!" the younger Grif finally looked at the Simmons he knew, and it was with a glare. "You are so up-tight, you've got the military rule book stuck up your ass side-ways, you're an annoying little shit-"

"OK kids, stop flirting~" the older Grif pretended to scold the younger men on the other side of the table. They were shocked into silence at that; flirting? FLIRTING? They were NOT flirting!

#red vs blue #rvb #grimmons

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casablancarossa · 1 month

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All I need is you.

<<an [18+] taemin x reader story>>

Pairings : Taemin x female!reader

Genre: Smut, Mini Angst. Extra Extra Mini Fluff

Content Warning : 18+, Minors DNI, Unprotected Sex, Implications of SelfHarm/Depression. Pillow Talk

Synopsis: Taemin was no-show which left you feeling pretty down and unwanted, but its Taemin and he will do anything to make sure you no longer doubt how much he wants you.

Authors Note: It's long, its steamy. So here ya go darlings. BTW, while this is a continuation of 'Please Amore', didn't realize I was going to write about mirrors again. With a man this good looking, of course he would have a inclination towards mirrors.

Also I refuse to be held liable for how long this post is.. I couldn't write one moment and suddenly I couldn't stop writing.. So Yeah.

God bless the metamorph concerts.. so many pics to use .

Enjoy Reading!!

"So... amore.."

Taemin's dulcet call doesn't even come close to budging you out of your position in bed. Poor guy is practically unprotected in bed as you had managed to form a cocoon out of the blanket and remained in there, huffing something about a forgotten date or plan, or something along those lines. His arms reach out, placing a hand on the soft covers, pushing it down far enough so that he could see your face.

You were far from impressed and it will take every inch of your being from being livid and if your boyfriend was not so damn adorable, you would have probably used the pillows and hit him repeatedly until its feathery innards exploded. "You made me wait like a fool... in front of the company building, no less." you hissed through your teeth. The cocoon you were in had finally exploded, chucking it towards Taemin, immediately walking towards the door.

Not even the beckoning meows of Kkoong stopped you from huffing and immediately dropping onto the couch, grabbing the throw to cover your legs.

"Y/n-ah, you know I didn't mean to bail" Taemin's voice called out from the bedroom. It was followed by the noises of slippers shuffling on the floor as he waddles out, now cocooning himself with the blanket. He moves towards you and really pushing the cute act, plopping down to lay on top of you. "I'm sorry..." he mumbles, burying his head on your lap.

"One night, Taemin. All I wanted was one night" you sighed, folding your arms to stop yourself from dropping an ounce of affection.

"When I get back from Japan, I promise, we can have a fully week of uninterrupted date nights."

"No point now is there", you huffed quietly.

Being in the same room as Taemin made your heart break, and the more physical distance there is between you, the better it is, letting the silence heal your wounded ego.

With Taemin's schedule suddenly ramping up since his concert and amongst TV appearances and being holed up in the studio, you had rarely seen him the last two weeks. Maybe three. Within that time period, Taemin had flaked out on maybe four planned dates. Two of which he planned himself, but at least you were at home and half ready, so it didn't bother you. Three if you included tonight, but this time you had gotten ready and stood outside SM's building for over an hour, and only got the text from Taemin saying there was traffic it'll probably be an hour or two before he gets home. When you asked for an elaboration, no response.

It wasn't like Taemin to not respond and you were too annoyed to rationalize his actions, immediately jumping to the worse conclusions an angry woman could possibly think of. He is either cheating, or he is dying, and the former seemed more likely in your head. Now, you know, Taemin wouldn't dare enter an affair, honestly you didn't think it was possible, but Taemin would always be upfront about missing things due to schedule because it was his way of facing accountability. It was no secret that he has picked his schedule over you at times, not intending malice, but he would often think these things would be done on time and he would be home in time for you.

Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall as it quietly ticked. 2:15. It had gotten so late and it dawned on you that you had been moping for over 3 hours and Taemin had only walked through the door maybe an hour ago. "I'm going for a shower, then go to bed. You should sleep, you still have an early schedule tomorrow", you mumbled, shifting your body so that Taemin's head would drop on the seat of th couch.

His eyes followed your hunched figure making way to the bathroom, noting how hard you were trying to act casual. Act as if you weren't pissed at all, but he could see it in your face. How your lips curled down to a frown and your eyes seemed void of any emotion. Taemin quietly remained on the couch, waiting for the sound of water hit the floor. It puzzled the man that he didn't hear music coming from your end, usually your shower times would always have music in the background. The bathroom was your studio and you thought that the shower was loud enough to hide your singing, but this time it was silent. At that moment it clicked in Taemin's head that you were really not happy.

Filled with enough resolve to pull an all-nighter, Taemin would try to make you feel better, even at the cost of sleep. He might as well tidy up and create a cozy space for you, grabbing the plushies that were resting on the windowsill and throwing them to the bed.

As he was chaotically, setting out the comfy pillows and blankets, the string lights and the scented candles, Taemin noticed the mess of clothes, roughly kicked under the bed along with a pen cap. He thought of the situation as odd, investigating the clothes and noticing that it was one of the dresses he bought for you. White silk with lace trims and pen marks just at the hem.

Taemin put two and two together and dropped everything he was doing so he could sneak to the bathroom to see if his assumptions were correct. And it was. He managed to crack the door slightly and through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he could see parts of your body, covered in pen marks, specifically in writing and he didn't need to read it to know the contents of it.

Often, during your 'low' days, instead of wallowing in sadness and damaging your health, you would write the demeaning thoughts that raptured your brain. The comments were harsh, hurtful and downright despicable, but they were words to yourself and usually at the end of the night, Taemin would carefully wash away those words, filling you with words of affirmation and making sure that you knew how amazing you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are and how grateful he is to have a partner like you.

"Amore? I'm coming in.."

The voice snapped you out of your zombied state, looking up to see Taemin, open the door a bit more as he watches you carelessly scrubbing at your thigh trying to get the writing off. Your body spin slightly to hide yourself, you didn't want him to see you like this. In your head, you have been doing so well, but after being bailed on, your insecurities were set to over 9000 and with so many female idols professing their crush on Taemin, you suddenly felt unwanted.

The feeling of the warm shower felt nice against your skin, but Taemin's timid kisses on your shoulder had caught you off guard, suddenly feeling as if fire coated your body. "Don't take my job away from me", his husky whisper, caused the hair on your neck to stand and soon your body was shifted to sit on the edge of the bathtub next to the shower.

You looked up again to see that Taemin had not taken off his clothes, subsequently getting soaked, as he adjusts the shower head so at least the stream could reach your feet from where you were sat. His hands grabs the sponge and soap and began working on the space just above your knees. "If you had told me, I would have dropped everything..."

"I don't want to be that type of person who disrupts her boyfriend's schedule.."

"I don't care. If I had known that you had a bad morning, I would have re-scheduled everything for after Japan.."

"It's fine amore... It's just a stupid overreaction.." your voice was a low whisper barely audible but there was a hitch on your throat that let Taemin know, it was anything but an overreaction. In part, he could tell it was his fault.

"So what did you write?", he asks despite having already read the legible parts before he scrubbed it off.

"Oh you know.. the usual stuff.." you began, feeling at ease as most of the ink had faded, becoming illegible enough that you or Taemin couldn't read it. "..mostly, how much I hate you.", you finally teased.

"That's fair. You could hate me all you want. But, I still love you", Taemin beamed despite letting out a defeated sigh, his hands carefully massage your calves with much earnestly as his head lowers to plant a trail of kisses on your thighs.

"You sure? Am I not too.. much?"

"Never..." Taemin placed an arm on either side of you, propping himself up so he could kiss your lips, pushing a little harder at your reciprocation. "All.. I ever wanted.. All I ever needed is here in front of me", he breathes out slowly, staring at you as your foreheads press together.

"I'm sure... you have said that plenty of times.." you sighed defeatedly, pulling away so you could grab the sponge and continue scrubbing at your arms, bending it at odd angles to get everything off.

You were no stranger to letting Taemin be fully aware of your insecurities and fears. You have been together for a while now and maybe his enlistment helped you stay secure, but now that he is out an about, it kind of itched at the back of your head. You weren't conventionally the type of girl that Taemin had relationships with. He is deceptively close to a lot of the female stylists, and heck up until recently, worked with an ex until the end of the 'Guilty' promotions.

"Don't speak like that.. I hate that you think that you don't deserve being loved.. especially from an idiot like me". Taemin's words were so adamant and full of intent that it caught you off guard.

There was a moment of silence that clouded room and Taemin took the opportunity to rid your body from any more nasty words. You watched him closely still trying to decipher the faded letters on your skin, frowning as he makes his own assumptions and then frowning at you disapprovingly before leaving kisses whenever he successfully scrubs a bad word off. As he turns off the shower, you observed how clothes were sticking onto his body and you couldn't help but admire how he kept his physique.

Gods. I don't deserve you. You let out a scoff, laughing to yourself of how stupid you were feeling. But seeing Taemin look equally hurt, washed all those worries and anger that was directed at him.

He flashed an endearing smile towards you, crouching down so that you were at the same eye level. "Y/N-ah, I will spend the rest of my days, trying to show you how much I love you.. if you'd let me", his last words were cut off by him placing another kiss at your lips, settling himself in between your legs. quickly wrapping your legs around his waist so he could pick you up.

"Woah, woah wait, Taemin, I'm still drenched. We're both wet mops!" you squealed as your body get lifted from your seat, wrapping yourself around Taemin's torso, trying not to slip. See he was surprisingly strong. You had thanked Minho for that, and you weren't necessarily lighter than Taemin either, being on a thicker side but he swears he loves that about you. More to love, he says.

You both giggled like little school children as Taemin carries you back to the bedroom, while in your head you cursed yourself for needing to go back out to clean the trail of water droplets before it causes an accident. But by the time your body had been dropped onto the fluffy blanket that Taemin had set out, all thoughts had left your head. The room was surprisingly warm and warmly lit too. Your head tilted back to see the string lights had been set up and the smell of peonies and vanilla covered the room. You were so distracted, you didn't even see Taemin trying to herd Kkoong and Daeng out of the room as he closes the door behind him.

It didn't take long either, but soon you found yourself under Taemin as he crawls on top of you, staring into your eyes lovingly. He couldn't help but be mesmerized at how much you were like a ray of sunshine to him. He would never let anything harm you. Not even himself.

That being said, on closer inspection of your body, he could tell by the faint bruising on the intimate parts of your body, that recently he had been rough in bed with you and while you didn't complain, he was aware he needed to show his affection and need for you in a more gentle manner this time. "Amore? Can I love your body as well please?" he asks so sweetly that you could only cup his face, and turn your head away, trying to not get embarrassed.

There was something pure about every time Taemin asks for permission. Usually he takes what he wants and it drives you insane (in a good way), but when he tries to be more loving about it, it felt like it was the first time for both of you; playful, clumsy, shy, always asking if things are okay and whether a line was crossed. But Taemin had done it so beautifully where sex was at your own pace and intensity, at moments like these, you were in charge, not in the dominant sense, but in general. Yes, he'd still dominate you, but it felt different. Instead of being the obediant submissive, that succumbed to the naughty wiles of your boyfriend, you felt like you were his only air to breath, a goddess to worship.

Taemin did revel when you are like this though. To see you flushed on the bed, when your legs would twitch and rub against each other when his finger would graze down your torso. Delicately, he would trace down from your lips, down your neck and over the hill of your breast and down your stomach. It was tantalizing and almost overbearing for you to handle. His movement was light as a feather and would apply enough pressure to on certain parts to bring you back to him.

Quickly, Taemin peels his wet shirt off his body, sighing in comfort before turns his attention to you again.His body shifts a little bit, lowering his body onto yours, bringing his lips to your ears. "I know this isn't enough to make up for tonight.. " his low shuddering voice, caused your to mewl, rolling your head aside, exposing the areas, you needed him to stimulate.

Slowly, resting his weight on your body, he leaves tantalizing kisses on your neck and collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name as if it was the only word he knows. His devious hands roam the sides of your body before quickly grasping the back of your knee on one leg and pulling it up to wrap around his waist. The movement caused his hips to thrust gently, making you feel through his sweatpants, his bulge, protruding and grinding onto your naked core.

A bare moan barely escaped your throat before Taemin occupied your vacant lips, weighing down in the kiss with so much need and urgency. You were suddenly in a daze when he left your lips and targeted your breasts. Just a little nip made your body almost sit up but Taemin shot down that reaction by keeping a firm palm just on the middle of your chest, essentially, holding you down.

Taemin had always played like this, being so agonizingly slow and unpredictable and his tongue darted out, lapping at your nipples before sucking on the area around it. Your back arches upward, feeling the built up tension forming in between your legs and suddenly you were need to feel something more and not even grinding through his sweatpants is going to cut it.

"Amore.. please.." you whimpered shyly, turning your head to stare at the wall, using one of your hands to cover your face.

"Hm?"

"Please take me.."

"I don't think you're being serious", he lets out a soft giggle, teasing you as he sits up, trying to shift down the band of his sweats, pushing down his boxers as well.

Seeing his dick pop out all the sudden made your eyes roll, biting your lip and mumbled your initial statement under your breath, horribly failing at controlling yourself.

"Oh.. I guess, I should put this away then.." his voice was so playful that it ticked a nerve.

"Oh for the love of god Taemin, please!" your tone was a mixture of desperation and annoyance, but as you tried to sit up to scowl at him, Taemin with his best effort, pinned you back down on the bed again.

Taemin was holding you down by the shoulders, boring a hole through you with his eyes, but you were so flushed and excited that you couldn't even look at him in the eyes. Your body however was telling a different story as your legs have parted, allowing Taemin to slot himself in the middle, now with shaft pressed in between your bodies.

Carefully, one of his hands, held onto yours, bringing up just to the side of your head. His other hand reaches down and guides his member just to your heated core, gently pushing himself in until he was fully engulfed in you. The slow spread made you wince. Naturally with Taemin's busy schedule, there wasn't really enough time to have sex constantly and that left you feeling pretty tight, as if you walls forgot the shape of his dick.

"Oh...fuck", he hisses, if it felt too tight around him, god knows how it must be for you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it slow?"

Your head feverishly shakes from side to side, assuring him that you're okay, gently patting your hand on his arm, mouthing the words 'keep going'.

One slow movement out and Taemin quickly thrusts his hips, causing a jolt in your senses, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand to prevent any loud noises. Your boyfriend frowned, adjusting himself so he could finally lower his torso on top of yours.

"No no, I want to hear you", following through his words by resting head in the direction your face was pointed at, close enough that his ear was pressed against your lips.

Wasting no time, Taemin moves his hips again, finally hearing the soft yelp that left your lips, whimpering needlessly as your body feels overwhelmed with how you were coming undone beneath him. Every time he snaps his hips forward, you could feel your legs raise each time, groaning as he hits new depth in you in this manner, which made you mumble profanities into his ear.

Snickering, Taemin tries to reach upwards, grabbing a pillow before kissing you gently on the lips, his sudden slow pace winds you down before fully pulling away.

"My my amore.. look how wet you are" his eyes practically shined seeing your legs spread, seeing how your region was throbbing from suddenly feeling empty.

"Shut up..." you could only manage to whine before you felt his hands snake under you, pulling your hips up so he can place the fluffed up pillow under you.

As he attempts to push your hips and legs further up and closer to your chest, so he can scoot himself closer to you, your hands immediately dart forwards, digging your nail into his arm to catch his attention. Taemin slightly raised his head, his eyes were so dark and like a mist of lust had clouded over them and he was trying to hard not to lose control around you.

You could only flash a sweet smile before struggling slightly to raised you hand, enough for your fingers to caress his cheeks before using your other arm to lever you upwards, enough so that you could reach to tug at Taemin's hair before pushing his head down slightly.

"Clean me." the soft request from you was met with a low growl from Taemin before smirking at you. He was more than happy to comply, quickly shuffling downwards so his face was mere inches from your groin.

"Say it again...", he whispered,, casting a cool breath on your pelvic area, slowly blowing a trail further down, waiting for your words.

"Please clean me, amo---ahh", you could barely finish your statement before Taemin's tongue dart out, giving your clit a tentative lick, placing the flat muscle firmly against it. He loved how you moaned uncontrollably. He knew how much it took within you to ask him to basically eat you out. While you had no issue sucking his pretty little soul out of his dick; eating you out at your request was not something you did often. It usually got you going quick, and the orgasms you would experience is far from your general orgasms, you knew that, he knew that.

It wasn't long before his lips cascaded downwards, forming a suction at your entrance and happily sucking up the trail of wetness that managed to form and drip from your core. The way he lapped his tongue around the entrance of your pussy could drive you insane. but Taemin being Taemin, he couldn't help himself.

Mustering enough strength, he finally hoists your legs around his shoulders, while he sat up to a kneeling position. Taemin's arms wrapped so tightly around your waist, not only to keep the lower half of your body upwards, but he was ready to devour you.

It was already hard on your to almost balance your weight on your shoulders and if it weren't for Taemin's grip around your form, you would have been rendered helpless, quivering, when his tongue descends into your pussy, twirling his tongue for a bit before attacking the main prize once more, back to your clit. You had been so overwhelmed that your bud was so sensitive to any type of friction and when Taemin decided to continuously flick at it with his tongue before giving it a quick suck, its like hot white flashes burned into your eyelids.

You wouldn't last long in this state, not that it mattered to your boyfriend, he was more than determined to let you orgasm in his mouth. "F-fu..ck, Taem... fuck.." you could only muster two words repeatedly as your legs almost clench around his head and suddenly you had enough strength to indeed balance your weight on your shoulders, arching your back and needlessly grabbing onto his dark locks.

In response, Taemin's efforts were doubled. "Cum for me". His words vibrated through as his hold went from around your body, to white knuckle death grip on your hips, making sure you couldn't escape even if you tried. And there you would finally grace his tongue with your orgasm as your legs twitched endlessly and a squeal finally breaks free from throat. He would diligently lap it all up, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

"Mm, such a good tasting girl" Taemin chuckles before finally letting your body drop to the bed, letting your catch your breath. "What do you think Amore? Should I finally fuck you again? Or should I make you watch me show you how amazing your body is?"

His questions piqued your curiosity, you obviously wanted nothing more than Taemin in you. You've been so needy for him that not even rummaging through your collection of sex-toys could please you, but because you took to long to respond, it was practically obvious you wanted to see what the second suggestion meant.

The devilish man, finally smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a quick peck before shuffling to the other edge of the bed, holding your hand and guiding you to sit with him on his side. He motions for you to stay where you are as he gets up to scoot the clothing rack, meant for robes/towels/clothing ready to be worn for the day, aside , revealing a wide full body length mirror.

Quizzically darting your eyes between your reflection and his, you were snapped out of your confusion when Taemin gently lifts your head by your chin with his finger, leaning down to capture your lips, softly moaning your name out.

"My love... my life...", he's doing it again. The low rumble in his voice, the voice only you hear in private. Desperation, desire all molded into a sweet tone as he kisses down your neck and out your shoulders. "My sunshine.... Y/N.. Amore", he continues on as he moves back to the bed, kneeling behind you as he pulls you just slightly back from the edge, enough so that you could lean back and rest on his chest.

Equally, Taemin's frame shrinks just slightly so he can bury his face on the crook of your neck, lavishly decorating it with kisses and little nips to stir a sound out of you. A hand reaches down between your legs, fingers tauntingly circling around your clit once more before a lone finger knocks at the entrance of your pussy, slightly pushing in.

That sensation alone was enough for your head to rock back against Taemin's shoulders, mewling slightly with your eyes closed, while his actions beforehand was weird (to you at the very least), all those questions and worries were out the window when a second finger joined the first, gently spreading your apart. It wasn't his dick, but by God was Taemin talented with his fingers. Being skilled in playing the piano only meant good things for you, naughty things for you. Taemin eagerly pumps his digits on and out of you before hooking them to look for a sweet spot. A spot that would knock out your senses before you knew it.

Once you let out a breathless gasp, he knew he had found that sweet spot and continuously massaged it, stimulating it, all the while you had not even noticed a third finger already in you, stretching your tight hole more than you could ever dream. The slick noises your pussy made drove Taemin insane. The fact you could feel him grind his hard-on on the small of your back, drove you insane. You feel the hard muscle twitch so hard behind you, it was practically slapping against your skin and the thought of it plowing in and out you, had you soaking.

It didn't take long but your legs were fully spread open, one leg raised up on the bed and the other still somewhat planted on the bed with your foot on the floor, on your tiptoes. You had become a whimpering mess only chanting your mantra of Taemin's name and God. You tried so hard not to clamp your legs shut because it could be game over if you tightened around his fingers, but something in your started stirring and the pressure built up once more.

Taemin uses his free hand to move your head to look at the mirror, whispering into your ear. "I want you to watch... I need you to see", and with that he shifted his weight, focus and energy on the hand that pleasure you. He pumped in and out of you one last time until his middle and ring finger were knuckle deep into you before hooking up and down in a crane like motion.

You finally mustered the energy and attention to look at the mirror. Oh. So this is what he wanted you to see, to make you see how much he knows your body, how much he coveted it.

"I want you to see how beautiful you are.. how much I burn for you", he callously whispered into your ear. "Look at yourself amore, look at us.."

Like he said, because he was sitting behind you, you couldn't see his face, but now you could see, how your mewls excited him, how when your lips part to sing his name, it caused him to bite his lips, and when your head would roll to the side, he would take a deep breath in, inhaling and absorbing your scent. There was something in his demeanour and actions, everything you did had an effect on him and oh boy his damn eyes. His damn eyes gave him away. He looked at you like you were his reason to live, he looks at you like he was the fucking luckiest man on earth because you chose him. Despite the ups and downs, he had you and to know that he could witness you like this, it was perfect.

While your head may be resting onto his chest, face slightly away, your eyes were still fixed on your reflection. There was something hot about it. To see yourself come undone, a whimpering broken mess on the merit of his fingers alone.

His arms and general hand was still, but you could feel his fingers manoeuvre wildly in your and suddenly those squelches became more audible. His spare hand roams around your torso, grabbing at whatever as he is in deep focus trying to achieve what you didn't know your body could do.

As the pace of his fingers intensify, so did your breathing. Suddenly it was ragged, quick paced like you had ran a marathon and the slight brush of his thumb against your clit, was the final catalyst that sent you to a different type of nirvana. The pressure you felt was not just another orgasm. You watched your reflection as Taemin had managed to make squirt, spraying onto the floor and mostly pooling in his hand. But he didn't stop there, he quickly pulled out his fingers out of you, quickly brushing his hand like a fan over your entire pussy and clit , making the spray more dispersed eliciting more than just a squeal, it was more like a guttural scream that had your whole body convulsing.

The moment had you collapsing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding Taemin, as you try to catch your breath, half rolling your torso around the bed. "Holy... good fuck..." you gasped out, suddenly your mouth felt dry and your throat felt drier. "Wha.. what the fuck amore" you let out a low chuckle, slightly bewildered that happened.

"Soon it won't just be my fingers that makes that happen" he giggles, reaching over to give your ass a little smack. "How about it Amore?", his body turns to face you slightly.

Your head whips to look up at him and his erection standing proud, you were so dazed that you didn't even expect your body to move on its own accord. Suddenly you were on your knees and elbows, on all fours, hunched over and eagerly placing Taemin in your mouth. Gratifying him his own moment of pleasure. After what you just experienced, this is the least you could do to thank him.

Once your lips had formed a seal, enough to make a pop when you pulled away, Taemin whined. It wasn't just you, him too, sensitive aching to feel bliss. For a moment the thought crossed both of you minds, you were only sucking him off to give your pussy a break, but none of you could complain. Well, Taemin would, but feeling the back of your throat with his dick sent him on whirl. He didn't even need to hold the back of your head to keep you down, you were so willing already to take as much of him in your mouth.

It took a lot of self-control not to grab your hair and push you down so hard that you couldn't breathe, but eventually Taemin buckles, his body arching forward as he braces himself on your back. The motion of your tongue swiping on the underside of his dick before puckering your cheeks in to create the sweet vacuum he would empty himself in.

Soft groans would only escape Taemin now as you head repeatedly bobs up and down his shaft, tantalizing the tip with your tongue, playfully placing kisses on his pelvis as you move to pump him with your hand. He straightens himself, head rolled back, slowly losing the ability to stay in control and you could only look up to see his chest rising and sinking rapidly each time your grip tightened just enough. The way his adam's apple with also bob on his neck as he struggles to speak. "N...no..."

"Do you want me to stop?" your voice steeped in panic.

Taemin shakes his head, chuckling in amusement.

"D-did I do something wrong?", now you sounded worried, shifting to sit up in the same kneeling position Taemin is in.

"Relax amore.. tonight was supposed to be all about you..." he whispered.

You yelped as he grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you towards him as he throws you down onto the bed, quickly positioning himself on top of you in a straddle. His hands navigate to search for yours before clasping and pinning them on either side of your head. You both giggle as you faux struggle against his grip, attempting to lean upwards to peck the corner of his lips.

"I'm serious.. Y/N, tonight is all about you, I'm here to make you feel pleasure.. love... joy... all the good things in the world, my amore" Taemin cooes as he looks down at you.

His eyes were so different again. There was glimmer in those chocolate pools that captivated you and the way he smiles at you made your heart skip a beat because gosh, his smile would be the solution to any shiity day possible. The way he would laugh, or pout when he is being a bratty boyfriend; the way he would nonchalantly do gentlemanly things without even you asking him to do it.

"Taem..you don't... you don't need to do all of that. I already know it.." you sighed as you managed to slip your hands away from Taemin's hold, finally allowing your arms to hook around his neck and pull him down. "You're such an idiot.. but I love you so much Amore" you giggled before pecking his lips.

Taemin smiled once more, deeming that one kiss was not enough, going for another one. Then another one. Followed by a third.. a fourth and essentially you two were back to making out again. Ravenously chasing each other lips, how your tongues would battle for dominance, or how you two would bite each other's lips as a way to communicate. A quick nip would be a 'please I need you', a long swipe of the teeth would be a 'show me how much you want me', but a long bite, followed by the pulling of the other lip was a 'i'm begging you'; and that is what would happen, round after round, your lips would nibble on Taemin's lower lip, hungrily moaning for more as your body begin to roll upwards against him.

Taemin shuffles once more, guiding your legs so he can kneel in between them, dotting hurried kisses up and down your body, letting out a soft growl as he pushes your legs back, allowing to align himself at your entrance, agonizingly dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, bumping against your clit from time to time, making you carelessly whimper in anticipation. "Should we pick up where we left off Amore?"

You could barely respond a 'yes', he didn't give you enough time to but the pleased and relieved moan you let out as you feel his dick slowly entering inside you, lets him know, it was time. He buck his hip, gently adding more force behind his thrust to gauge how sensitive you are. But as you were so relaxed and lost in the pleasure of being filled, he picked up the pace.

The two of you get so high of the primal way Taemin fucked you, like his life depended on it. The way your walls clenched around him in a periodic rhythm in time to his thrusts drove Taemin to moan your name. You like it when he does. He gets so whimpery and cute. He wouldn't be like this if he used other 'terms' of endearment, but by god, he just fucked you the same way.

Soon your hips were rolling to meet every thrust, almost pushing him in deep inside you again and it made you see stars. Your eyes would roll back, the same way your back would arch off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as Taemin would slow his thrusts, pulling out fully before slamming in again, in one quick motion. When it felt like his thrusts were causing you to slightly shift away from him, he would grab your wrists the laid on your side, keeping you still, in place as the slow deep thrusts cause you mind to go blank.

You couldn't tell, but you were barely keeping it together. The strings of nonsense you manage to let out from your lips was inane babble to Taemin's ears. You didn't want him to fuck you like this. You needed him to be closer, on top of you, so you could whisper sweet nothings into his ear. To tell him to go slow, to feel every inch of each other.

When Taemin tried to pull out for another big thrust, that's when you leaped into action, immediately sitting up, only to hook a hand around his neck, and pulling him down with you again, staring into his eyes. "I need you close... to... me" you panted.

The man smirked slightly, supporting himself on his elbows, whilst his hands were busy playing with your hair, pulling strands of your face, that way he could study the small expressions that decorated your visage whenever he thrusted. When it was a quick one, your eyes would shoot open, lips slightly parted and inaudible scream would leave you. When it was slow and deep, your lids would be half hooded, lips reddened from how hard you were biting it and delightful moan was soft and music to his ears.

Your body would only continue to squirm and writhe in pleasure as Taemin moves his hand to cup and your breasts, gently pinching your nipple before slowly and softly dragging his nails down the side of your body, reaching to pin his hand between your ass and the mattress. Every time his thrust had you lifted off the bed, he would slap your ass gently causing an excited giggle out of you. "Oh it sounds like some wants their ass red.."

Another giggle as you nod you head, looking up at Taemin with doe like eyes and feigning innocent face, which drove him wild. How could his sweet love pull such an angelic air around her while agreeing to having her ass slapped about. It was a good tactic to get what you want and you want nothing more than to feel like you could lose you senses as Taemin pounded into you.

Taemin raises himself enough so he could bring your legs together again and in one motion, flipping you around so you were on your stomach. Not needing to be told what to do, you tried to keep yourself as flat to the bed as possible, except for the slight bed in your back to perk your ass up in the air, wiggling slightly to taunt Taemin.

The man could only smirk, testing your tolerance by giving a gentle slap and listening to your pleased mewl. He places himself behind you, slapping each cheek with his dick before spreading you apart once more. Taemin wasn't stupid, he knew why you liked this position. Not only can you have the satisfaction of your cheeks being marked, but with your legs closed tight and in this bent form, you were impeccably tight. Tight enough that Taemin would have second thought fucking you in this position because it almost felt like he was breaking your walls down.

A slow hiss ripped through Taemin's teeth as he insert himself, groaning profanities. It felt tighter than it did, when you two started earlier on and at this point, he might not last much longer. Like instinct, Taemin's hands placed themselves just on the base of your spine, holding you down as he proceeds to move his hips, causing your to moan wantonly into the matress. It was erratic and aimless, you didn't know what to feel, but the pressure of being held down and being fucked in angles and depth that you didn't know could happen, your body was almost begging to release.

In your position, you swing your arms to stretch in front of you, grabbing hold on the blanket and gripping at it whenever Taemin used his weight to pile drive into your aching core. The groans and mewls and fully turned into a fully vocal and resonant cries of pleasure. Taemin had a kink for your sinful moans and you will scream the house down for both of your pleasure because you are starting to become overwhelmed.

As your head tries to turn to look back at Taemin, you catch yourself, your reflection in the mirror. Ass perked up in the air with your own personal god, fucking you like the world was about to end. Watching Taemin's reflection as he drops his all into his thrusts made you wetter than possible, Is that how we look like.. Is that how slutty I look? Fuck.. look at him, he looks so good fucking me like this. You were so enchanted by the view, you didn't even realize Taemin was looking at you through the reflection.

"Don't we look good amore?" he groans with a quick thrust. "I told you, see how beautiful you look like this" Another thrust.

It's not like you haven't watched porn, nor have sent countless of masturbation videos to each other before, but there was something deeply erotic and sensual about how Taemin's movement would have a ripple effect on you and the sight of his face as it contorts in pleasure, how his soft lips would part to moan your name before cursing under his breath.

Shyly hiding your face behind your stretched out arm as you continue to look in the mirror. "Amore.. I want to see you cum in me..", you hummed before crossing your legs and bending your knee to raise them up, essentially keeping Taemin pinned close to you.

"But first..", he slaps you ass as he feel the heel of your foot bump against his backside. "It's time for you to scream my name again".

Taemin adjusts his knelt position, and now focusing on pumping his dick in and out of you. He kept on hand applying pressure on your lower back to hold you down while the spare hand took turns in slapping each cheek, or carelessly drawing lines down your back with his nails.

It suddenly got too much as the thrusts became shallow but effectively rubbing against you sweet spot, making you cry out his name. "Oh fuck... amore... Taemin.. please". The more louder you got the more wilder the thrusts were and this time, Taemin's hands were at your hips practically slamming you onto him, each time causing you to shudder uncontrollably. "F-fuck.. fuck.. fuck.." you drawled out as the eruption of your orgasm is finally about to hit like a double deck bus.

Overwhelmed, slightly broken, the culmination of multiple orgasms back to back did lay bearing on the intensity this orgasm brought. Whilst the hight pitch scream of you lover's name filled the room, it hits you again, the sound of the loud squelching and slight spray that dared to slip Taemin' out of you. What's worse is you had your eyes open and you could see it in your reflection how intense that was for you. Warm waves of euphoria washes over you and Taemin could see it in your eyes that slight moment where daze hits and you felt that post-orgasm numbness fog your brain in an instant.

"Told you, you'd do it again...and not by my fingers this time. You did so well amore" Taemin's words of affirmation brought you comfort, although you weren't sure it was processing in your head fully.

However despite how tingling your body is, how your legs quivered as your orgasm basically washed over Taemin. Your walls pulsated, tightening further around him and it was enough to tip him over the edge.

You would continue to watch Taemin essentially lose himself, a mixture of focus and tiredness encompass his face. His eyes hooded and clouded with ecstasy. His rapid breathing mixed with the frustrated grunts, he was all too close to getting to the same state as you.

Taemin's head would throw back again, groaning nothing but your name as he would have exploded out of you mid thrust if it weren't for your legs pinning him closer to you. You used the last of your strength to keep him in places as he empties himself in you. "F-fuck. Y/N-ah", he groans as his body keels over, his now sweat ridden forehead resting on your back.

There was a moment of silence that felt like eternity as both of you catch your breath together and Taemin finally pulls away, resting against the headboard and smiling at the sight that graced him.

"Stay still amore", he finally breaks the quietness before getting up.

He slowly guides and manouvers your body around, still bent over but now you were back at the edge of the bed, but with your back turned against the mirror. Taemin sat beside you and gently patted your ass. "Do you want to see how creamy you are amore?" he teased.

With a puzzled look, you attempt to twist your torso, so you can half turn to see what Taemin meant. And creamy you did. The imagine of you slightly spreading yourself to see the final mixture of both Taemin and yours, pool slightly out of your entrance, dripping onto the bed.

"I will never get sick of seeing you filled up.." Taemin giggled, talking to you through your reflection. He beamed up once more as he took the opportunity to let you see him lean over and naughtily nip at your cheek, slapping it once you let out a pained moan.

You laugh as you push Taemin down on the bed, scooting over to straddle him, quickling teasing him by pinching his cheeks and trying to tickle his sides. "If you keep on filling me up mister.... we'll end up having a responsibility nine months later.." you huffed slightly.

"Then maybe..." Taemin's devilish grin pops before, using his hands on your waist and pulling you upwards closer that you end up sitting on his chest. He looks down to see the trail of your orgasms line his torso. He tentatively licks his lips before gently biting his lower one.

"You idiot.. eating me out now, is not going to 100% stop a pregnancy.." you laughed, slightly flicking his forehead before dismounting him. You grabbed one of the blankets and wiped Taemin's chest free from your debaucherous sins, before throwing it aside and settling in beside him.

"Hey Y/N-ah... "

"Mm?"

"I love you..."

"I love you too."

"Next time, tell me when you are having your lows so I can catch you and make you feel safe... " he mumbles softly, turning to face you as his arm drapes over your body for a hug.

You pursed your lips before smirking at him, getting the weird feeling of being annoyed because he is being so damn cute and aggression is kicking in. Your hand reaches up to aggressively pinch his cheeks.

"You are such a cheese. A baby cheese. My cheese", you sigh contentedly.

"Yes. Your baby cheese" he chuckles before lowering his frame so he could nuzzle against you, resting his head on your chest as you begin to hum and play with his hair.

"By the way.. can you lie for me and tell the rest of the members I'm sick? It's not much, but lets have that date.. at home tomorrow...or well.. when we wake up.." Taemin mumbles half realizing the time.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"It's okay. You're worth it..." he slowly drifts off followed by the soft sounds of his snores.

"Okay, Amore... tomorrow, it will be a day just for us.. "

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