#just sir... please take of yourself or i will force myself to do it for you

[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #call of duty mwii #x female reader #x fem!reader #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #the gang's all here

[mactavishwritings]

HEYYYYYY, HYWD?

I will beg for a: Gentle Dom! Price, Hard dom! Ghost or König and a Brat!Reader.

PLEASE, I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!

oh fuck dude you are speaking my language <33333

a lil nsfw 18+ only please <3

Gentle Dom!Price and Hard Dom!Ghost asking you to behave just for once. You sat in the meeting room, just the three of you when Price knelt down in front of you. "Be good today. This mission is important and you need to pay attention." you nodded, but then Ghost gripped your thigh tightly. You winced and Ghost leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Be. Nice." His voice was firm and stubborn, causing your back to stiffen.

During the meeting, Ghost had his hand kept on your thigh. It didn't stop you however because you started wiggling. Ghost's fingers dug into your thigh and you pushed yourself up to sit on your knees. You started doodling on your paper instead of taking notes, figuring that you could look over Soap's later. Price was giving you disappointed looks the entire time, knowing that you weren't paying attention like he had asked you two.

What made Ghost snap was when you leaned back and tossed a paper ball at Gaz, who giggled and tossed it back to you. Ghost's hand snapped out and grabbed the ball before grabbing your arm. "Enough." His voice was loud and direct, making Gaz jump. Not you though. You were used to this so you just made eye contact with the man like a challenge, your eyes were filled with such mischief that Ghost physically sat up to appear even bigger than normal.

Price approached the table, breaking up the staring contest to refocus you. Once he got you back, he continued the meeting making sure that Ghost had an arm around you to hopefully keep you in place.

After the meeting, Price dismissed Soap and Gaz. As soon as they left the room, Ghost immediately pinned you to the table and forced your arms around your back. you gasped at the sudden movement and fought back against Ghost’s strong hold, kicking your feet back in an attempt to fight back. Ghost was used to your antics by then so he pushed his chest against your back. Price sat across from you two, tablet in hand. "Be gentle this time with her, Simon. Need her fit and able for this mission." Price fiddled with his tablet while Ghost forced your pants down to your knees. "Don't worry, only enough to make sure she understands what she did wrong."

You cried out with each hit to your ass. Ghost held your arms with one hand while he delivered blows with his other hand. Price watched with a small smile, counting each hit with you, and would make Ghost restart every time you missed a count. Each hit would get harder and harder, making a loud clapping sound that almost drowned out your crying. Ghost smirked with each hit that he delivered, basking in your cries.

Price soon stood after putting the tablet on the table. "that's enough, Simon. Let's see how our baby is doing." You looked up at Price with big, teary eyes. Ghost rolled his eyes, but released you anyway. "The slut is just fine, John. You go too easy on her." Ghost pulled you up by your shirt, but left your pants down. "Was Simon too rough with you, angel?" You nodded, rubbing your eyes as Price inspected your bruised ass, rubbing your reddened cheeks. He took you in his arms and you stuck your tongue out at Ghost. "Meanie." You growled at Ghost and Price was quick to grab your chin. "Do not think that I won't bend you over this table myself and have my way with you." Price delivered a quick strike to your already sore ass and you sobbed loudly.

"I'm sorry!" You whined as Ghost came up to pull your pants up back to their normal place. Ghost kissed the top of your hair and tapped your ass lightly. "Be glad that he was here because if I got what I wanted, your pretty little ass would be black and blue. You hear that? So what do you say? Hm?" You tilted your chin back until you saw Ghost. "Thank you, Sir." Ghost hummed and Price pulled away. "Alright, you two, go train for a little bit. I want you on your best games for this mission."

#ask #winter speaks #ghost x reader #price x reader #captain price smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #Ghost x reader x price #ghost mw2 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod mw22 #price mw2 #request

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wherever You Are

Sequel to Come Out, Come Out

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: Steve comes home.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

A sudden vertigo overcomes you, sweeping you out of your static sleep. You blink away the shroud of drowsiness and greet the man above you with a vacant stare. Your breath hitches as you turn fully onto your back to face Steve.

“We doing this again?” He stands straight and crosses his thick arms over his bulging chest, “the hiding?”

“Sorry, Captain,” you push yourself up, bending your legs in front of you as you keep your heels on the blanket below you, half of it trailing behind you under the bed.

“I don’t like you sleeping under there. You know that.”

“I do, sir, but…” You bat your lashes and pout. You can’t tell him who you are truly hiding from. “I don’t like sleeping alone in the bed.”

He tilts his head and the stony edge leaves his jaw. He nods and bends over you, gripping you around your sides as he lifts you to your feet. He steadies you before him before he lets you go, fingertips brushing up your nightgown.

There’s a cut above his cheek and smear of dry blood down his stubbled throat that trails onto his dark collar. There’s a rent in the fabric across his chest, another deep along his torso, that one reddened and tattered. He cradles your chin as you eyes drift down to his wounds and he forces you to look at him.

“Starshine, I’m alright,” he assures you as his thumb caresses your cheek, “go get the kit.”

“Yes, Captain,” you touch his hand gently, angling your head up as he leans in. You give him a kiss, breathing in the scent of blood and sweat. You part and give a meek smile before you spin on your heel.

You flit off to find the silver chest stored under the bathroom counter. You hear him just through the doorway as he starts to strip away his layers. The clink of buckles and rustle of fabric underlines the silence. 

As you return to the bedroom, he sits on the bench of your vanity. The one he proudly reminds you he built himself. He still wears his grimy boots and stained pants, the dark blue fabric dusted with some unknown soot.

He sighs as he pushes his head back and stretches his neck. He winces as you see how it tugs at the shallow slice along his abdomen. His firm muscles draw taut and his broad chest rises and falls. Along his left peck, a purpled welt stretches up to his shoulder but the skin remains unbroken. 

He sets his head straight and watches your approach. You lay out the kit and flip the top open. You flick away the last of your fatigue with a flutter of your eyelashes. You take out the alcohol first and set to cleaning the cut along his stomach first.

“It’s going to sting,” you warn, just as you do every time, even though you know he barely feels it. 

“Worth it,” he purrs as he brushes your hip, welcoming you closer as you set to work.

When you finish with the bloody slice, placing a bandage neatly over it, you move on to his hands. You only just notice his split knuckles. He gives you each in turn, letting you clean them and wrap a few fingers. 

You finish with a dab of witch hazel over his bruises. He watches you intently. You’re overly aware of his attention as his hands wander along the silky fabric of your nightgown. As you tidy up, he lifts the hem and leans around to get a glimpse of your ass. He gives a tiny spank before he sits back, resting his elbows on the edge of your vanity as he looks you up and down.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his legs wide.

“Captain,” you eke out as you close up the kit and dump the peel wrappers and cotton balls in the small bin beside the vanity.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long, starshine,” he says, “as much for myself as you, you know?”

“I know, Captain,” you face him again.

He nods curtly, wordless order. You walk around his knee and stand before him, just in the vee of his legs. He pats his thigh, his eyes slipping down to the gesture and back up again. You sit obediently on his leg as he brings an arm forward, setting his hand against the small of your back.

“You missed me,” he slides his other elbow off the vanity and sits straight, reaching to your hand and dragging it up over your lap.

“Yes, Captain.”

He lifts your hand and places it against his jaw, guiding it along the thick trim of his beard. He leans into your touch and lets you go reluctantly. You keep your fingers moving, petting him as he hums in delight.

“Give Captain a kiss,” his voice grinds like gravel.

You lean in and press your lips to his. It’s easier now. Before, everything you did was so mechanical but you know better now. It only makes him mad when he sees your reluctance.

His tongue pokes out, gliding along your lips. You let him in, angling your head as he invades your mouth. His hand creeps up your back and he braces the back of your head. He locks you in a hungry kiss, snarling as if he might devour you whole.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless and dizzy. His eyes are dark pits you could fall into. His hand falls to the back of your neck as his other dances along the edge of your nightgown. He gives a small tug as his eyes drift down your body.

“Stand up,” he orders.

You stand.

He leads you without a word. Turning you to face him and knocking apart your feet with his boot. He draws you closer until you stand over his leg. He slips his hands beneath your nightgown, raising it above your pelvis as he frames your hips. He forces you down to straddle his thick thigh, a small gasp escaping you as you wince. You’re still tender…

“I missed you, baby girl,” he lets a hand fall down to your ass, the other keeping a firm hold on your hip, “I want to feel how much you missed me.”

He rocks you once. Pull your pelvis forward then urging it back. The friction of your cunt on his thigh sparks a thrill that ripples down your thighs. You nearly squeal as the sensation reminds you of the rawness nestled between your legs. You repeat the motion. Mimic how he moved you. You tilt against his thigh, another babble trickling from your lips.

You trail your other hand up his arm, watching how the tendons in his arm react, bicep rounding as you grasp his shoulder.

His hand clamps around your hips as the other brushes down to knead the tender flesh of your thigh. You let out a willowy breath as he leans in and hovers his lips before yours. You kiss him, heeding another mute order. You have to know how to read his body as much as his words.

You roll your hips, grinding against him as your fingers graze along his beard. You push your hand back to twine into the tails of his hair. His need melts into you as the pressure blooms beneath you. You squeak and moan, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You ride him without restraint. The bench creaks below his weight and yours. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet in desperation. Your legs quiver and burn as you chase your release. It’s close yet so far away. 

Gasp and pull your mouth from his, puffing wildly as lifts his chin and lets out a gritty growl. You dip your head down and kiss his neck, nipping at him as you clutch the strands of his hair and dig your nails into the firm muscles of his shoulder.

“That’s it, I can almost feel it, baby girl, hmm, you gonna cum for your captain?”

“Mmhmm,” you purr as you ply frantic pecks along his throat, “yes… cap… tain.”

You rut spastically as the swell of fire roars through you. You quake as the slickness between your leg smears along your cunt and onto his pant leg. Your pleasure spills over as it spreads to the creases of your thighs.

You slow, little by little, shame coursing anew in your veins as your orgasm recedes. You still and lift your head, wavering just slightly as you look Steve in the eyes. You drag your hand down to his chest.

“You came, didn’t you, starshine?” He asks with a taunting smirk.

“Yes, Captain, I did,” you answer and turn your face down in embarrassment.

His fingertips tickle along your thigh and up to your ass. He feels along your nightgown, almost curiously and follows the curve of your chest up to the base of the strap. He glides the thin string down your shoulder, then the other. 

He pulls down the top of your nightie and fondles your chest with his large hand. Your nipple react at once and goosebumps rise across your skin. You tremble and look down to watch him grope you.

“You’re… sensitive.”

“Captain,” you breathe cluelessly.

“Were you a good girl?”

“Good?”

“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” He pinches your nipple and you yelp.

“No, Captain, never,” you whimper.

“No?” He tweaks the other and you squeeze his arm, “so why are you so… tender?”

“Captain?” Your eyes round, “I swear, I didn’t–”

“Hmmm,” his hum undercuts your protest and he clucks and he smirks, “Buck did say you were a good girl. Maybe he was a bad boy, huh?”

You gape at him. He’s mocking you. He knows why. He knows everything. You look up to the corner where the lens is. He sees it all.

“He won’t have to be bad if you don’t hide from him,” he bounces your tit in his hand, “you know he likes to play games.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And you know I don’t like it when you make me look bad,” he flicks your nipple with his fingernail and you yelp as you cover it with your hand, “when you act like you have no discipline.”

“I didn’t– I was scared, Steve– Captain,” you panic and pull your hand away from your chest to press to his, “please, Captain, I was only afraid.”

He growls as his throat bobs. Thoughts storm in his eyes as they bore into you. He grasps the bunched fabric of your nightgown and rips it all the way to your waist.

“You will behave this time,” he sneers, “won’t you, starshine?”

“Yes, Captain.” This time?

“Go put something pretty on,” he grips your hips and slides you down his thigh, “he’ll be here soon.”

You don’t argue. You stand and let the nightgown fall to your feet. His eyes rove up and down and he gives a noise of approval.

“Or maybe, you should stay like that, baby girl,” he taunts, “you’ve never look more delicious than you do right now.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #sequel #mcu #marvel #captain america

[justabigassnerd]

Night Scare

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,275

Warnings - inaccurate medical scenes (I tried), worried Jake, fluff

Summary - a night time asthma attack turns a normal evening into a worry fest for Jake

A/N - wow... about two weeks later I'm finally posting a fic. I am so sorry for delays I've been struggling with writers block, it's still not fully gone but my guilt is catching up to me so I'm literally forcing myself to write. this was an anon request and I hope I did it justice. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Living with asthma is something you had just learned to deal with growing up. Always had to make sure your inhaler was on hand and learned to know when you could be on the verge of an asthma attack.

One evening, while your dad and Bradley were downstairs watching a sports match, you remained in your room, relaxing and scrolling through your phone. As you sit on your bed, scrolling through your phone, you began to cough occasionally but you shook it off, assuming it was just the ending of the cold you had just recovered from. Then your chest began to feel tight, like it was slowly being squeezed. You instinctively grabbed the inhaler that sat on your bedside table and took a puff of the medicine, settling back against the pillows and waiting for the medicine to do its job. After half an hour, you realise the inhaler isn’t working so you take another puff of the medicine and fight back a coughing fit that suddenly attacks you, taking your breath away from you as you struggle to recover it. Not wanting to risk losing your footing in your panic to get downstairs and risk hurting yourself, you open your phone and find your dad’s number, opening your messages and typing out a text.

Jake raised an eyebrow when he felt his phone buzz and saw your name above the text. He debated calling up to you but something in his gut was screaming at him to open the text, so he did.

‘I think I’m having an asthma attack’

“Call 9-1-1.” Jake says, leaping to his feet and heading for the stairs, leaving Bradley confused in the living room.

“What?!” Bradley calls up to Jake just as he disappears up the stairs.

“Call 9-1-1, y/n is having an asthma attack and I’m not taking any risks.” Jake calls down to Bradley who immediately pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials 9-1-1 while Jake bursts into your room to find you sat bolt upright and struggling to breathe. He could tell you were trying to keep calm so you could control your breaths a little better, but he could see the panic in your eyes.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Take another puff of your inhaler for me, okay? Rooster’s calling the ambulance now they’ll get here as quick as they can.” Jake says, sitting next to you on the bed and taking the small inhaler from your hands and holding it to your mouth so you could take a puff, he kept a close eye on you, seeing how you were doing.

Before too long, you heard the front door opening and Bradley talking downstairs before you heard footsteps heading up the stairs and you see two paramedics enter the room, equipment in hand as they approached.

“We’re going to need you to step back, sir.” One of the paramedics says, making Jake press a kiss to the top of your head and whisper reassuringly before he gets up from the bed, allowing the paramedics to assess you. The paramedics ask Jake for your name and what medication you are on which he gives, grabbing the medical information card he had and handing it to the paramedic, so they knew everything they needed to in order to help you. The paramedics help you downstairs to where a stretcher was waiting after assessing and concluding that you need to go to the ER for some medicine and observation. Jake is given permission to ride in the ambulance with you and just as he goes to follow you, Bradley stops him.

“I’m going to head home and get out of your hair. Keep me updated and I’ll come by when I can.” Bradley says and Jake nods, clapping Bradley on the shoulder.

“Thanks for calling the ambulance. I’ll see you around.” Jake says as the two walk out of the house, closing the door behind them. Bradley nods in acknowledgement before crossing to his Bronco while Jake gets in the back of the ambulance with you as the paramedic did what he needed to do. You were given an oxygen tube and some medicine, and your attack was seeming to wane thanks to it.

When the ambulance pulled up outside the hospital, the paramedics eased the stretcher out and wheeled you into the ER and one of the paramedics and Jake eased you onto a bed while the other paramedic filled in the nurse on what had happened. When you’re settled on the bed, the paramedics head back out to their ambulance while the nurse comes to your bedside.

“Hi, y/n. I’ve been informed that you’ve received some treatment and oxygen on the way over here and you seem to be doing better but we just want to keep you in for a few hours just in case you have another attack, okay?” The nurse says cheerfully as she inputs some final things on the tablet in her hand. You nod at her words as does your dad and the nurse then excuses herself to continue her rounds.

“You feeling okay?” Jake asks softly as he watches you.

“Feeling a lot better than I was earlier.” You say with a smile, making Jake smile gently and finally let himself relax.

“It was a little scary though.” You admit, looking away from your dad who softens at your words, reaching out and taking your hand gently in his own.

“I bet it was sweetheart. I thought it was scary just from my perspective I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” Jake says, watching you carefully as you shift your gaze to look back at him briefly.

“The important thing is you’re okay now. We’ll stay here for as long as the nurses want us to and then we’ll head home, and you can get some sleep and you can rest as much as you want tomorrow as well. We’ll take it easy.” Jake says reassuringly, giving your hand a small squeeze as well.

After almost three hours of lying on the hospital bed with constant check-ups, the nurses allow you to go home for the rest of the night, confident that you won’t have any more attacks for the night. They urge Jake to book you a doctor’s appointment as soon as possible to check how everything is going with your lungs and then you are cleared to go. As you exit the hospital, Jake is checking on the status of the Uber he booked and before too long it pulls up and the two of you get in the back seats and begin the journey home. By the time you get home, you’re just about ready to collapse into your bed. You immediately head up to your room and get into your pyjamas, quickly burying yourself under your duvet and curling up. It didn’t take your dad long to knock on the door and enter with your permission. He crossed to your bed and bent over to kiss the top of your head.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. If you need me, I’m just next door.” He whispers as you nod, eyes slipping shut instantly and Jake lets out a soft chuckle, pulling the duvet over you a bit more and leaving the room, turning the light off as he goes.

Jake returns to his own room, getting in his bed and lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He had just been through a scare that may taunt him for a while, but he knew you were just next door sleeping peacefully and he’d look after you as best he can.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x daughter!reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x daughter!reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x daughter!reader #jake hangman seresin #x daughter!reader

[seawater-aurelia-writing]

Broken { The Break; Chapter 2}

Pairing(s): Fem!MC/Yuu/Reader x TBD

Summary: MC awakens after her fall but the reactions of others make her spiral worse - but not all is as it seems.

WARNINGS

I am not the best at labeling warnings or triggers but I can say that this story is laden with neglect, self-depreciation, self-neglect, anxiety, possible depression and attempts to justify the above. There could be more labels that I can add but i’m unsure how to word them - so please exercise caution.

I liiiiiiiiiiiive! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I restarted this SO many times and yet I could never get it to feel...'right'...So I hope this lives up to yall's expectations! Sorry for the bad summary lol

One last disclaimer though! I have not seen the entirety of Chapter 6 and I have avoided pretty much all content for Chapter 7 as far as i'm aware. So I may not have everyone exactly in character in new things were revealed for them.

When M/C awoke, she half expected to be in the infirmary as she was when she was knocked unconscious during the Magift Tournament. But the other half of her? 

She didn’t expect much. Be it the stillness of the void around her, or the library floor if Professor Trein left her where she fell – there wouldn’t be much difference. It's what usually happened anyway; She could handle her injuries herself if that was the case. However, she supposed there was some form of upside to being in the infirmary. 

If she was left in the void, how else would she know firsthand how she burdened and upset those around her.

‘It’s so late…’ She thought to herself, gazing out of the window across from her bed. She could barely make out the faintest shape of the moon – a crescent. Even the moon was smiling at just how pathetic she had to look at this moment.

“-C. M/C!” 

Why was it so hard for her to hear? Even as she turned her head slowly, moving her eyes to gaze up at the headmaster beside her, it was as if someone had placed her in a tub of mud. She moved so slowly, without much feeling other than a sharp pain as she tried to rest the side of her head down onto the pillow.

“…Hng..”

“Thank goodness, you’ve finally awoken! It’s been two days already! What on earth did you drink to cause you to create such an awful mess of the library?! You know very well that you cannot ...poultices as other students do because of ... Furthermore, I believe I ...use it for research not as ...a playground!” He ranted but his voice faded in and out as he spoke. But why? Why can't I hear him?

Only an idiot would zone out at a time like this.

Crowley sighed, clearly exasperated when she didn’t attempt to speak.

‘He hates that he let you stay here. Who can't do simple chores?He wishes he never helped you.’

“Once you are ...leave, you are to clean up ...the library. Luckily, ...the matter with you ...I can see.” He continued after a moment, his arms folding over his chest as he gazed down at her. Slowly, it became easier to focus but the ringing in her ears never  "Actually...Our nurse is ...but I see no reason ...release you myself."

“…Y-yes…sir.” She rasped, voice dry and hoarse from lack of use.How long had she been unconscious? But again, did it truly matter? But what did that matter? Clearly, the pain in her head wasn’t real and not a sign of something worse. Why should she expect something else?

'He wants you gone.'

'You're taking up space.'

'Stop being selfish.'

'Because you think you're worth more than you are.'

Ace, Deuce and Grim came to visit her that day at lunch just before her release but the visit felt hollow. They laughed and teased her for her clumsiness, even Deuce smiling a bit at the dramatics of Grim, but none seemed to notice the forced smile that M/C put on her face. None noticed how her eyes twitched at the sharp, spike of pain that formed when they grew louder. 

‘They’re only here because they’re forced to be. Stop thinking about yourself.’

'Just smile. Don't make a scene.'

When M/C had been released earlier that day, she was urged straight to attend the final class of that day rather than go straight to Ramshackle. 

‘Please let this go by fast…’ She thought to herself, letting Rook lead the way to their class as the pain in her head continued to grow. M/C closed her eyes for a moment, missing the way Rook glanced back at her and shifted his body to walk closer to her. 'Please...'

Yet it did not. 

MC felt as if she was on autopilot as she sat in class, sluggishly marking notes where needed and nodding along with the lecture but nothing seemed to sink in, no matter how many times she willed herself to focus in. Rook would boisterously comment on things, his voice jolting her to the present long enough for her to gaze at him and then the teacher before her focus waned once more.

‘You’re so needy.’ Why couldn’t she just move past her little incident? Everyone else already had moved past it, so it clearly wasn’t very important. She had no right to wish that others worry about her. They had bigger things to worry about, more important things to focus on.

Right?

‘Why can’t you handle this on your own?” Why couldn’t she? It was only one day just like the others! It wasn’t even hard! Ruggie had gone without meals more than she had! So obviously, she was just exaggerating. Vil had more things to worry about than she did including an actual career! What right did she have to complain about doing a few favors?

‘You’re pathetic.’

‘A waste of space.’

‘What good is someone who screws up a simple thing?’

‘No one cares.’

‘You’re replaceable.’

‘Forgettable.’

As class ended, MC prepared for her cycle to begin once more and so it did. Rather than go to  dinner, Kalim latched onto MC the moment she was out of the classroom. The pain in her head returned full force with his boisterous volume right beside her ear but she still smiled. 

He offered to help the next time she went to the library since he knew ladders were tricky. 

‘They aren’t tricky. He’s pitying you’

“Kalim, leave her alone. She needs to rest.” Jamil finally said after a few minutes, his eyes not leaving her  as he spoke. He almost seemed to study her before adding, “She isn’t looking well.”

‘Pathetic.’

“Huh,? Oh right! I’m sorry! Go, go rest up! We can plan a group dinner later!” Kalim practically beamed before ushering her away from the cafeteria despite Grim’s many protests and her own stumbling feet.

“B-But -” 

 But they were already on Main Street by the time MC attempted to speak. Why was she always so hesitant when it came to these things? She barely uttered a word in the entire conversation and despite Jamil’s eyes on her, it was as if she wasn’t really a part of the conversation. Just a figure meant to listen but not contribute. 

Always there but never meant to fully be there.

MC didn’t register her body moving as she went towards the direction of Ramshackle, her form practically shrinking in on itself as they went. Grimm was rambling on and on as he floated beside her, while she let her body guide her on a path she had now memorized. 

“…Just…pathetic…” She mumbled, one hand coming up to grasp at the other elbow. That’s what she was, wasn’t she? She didn’t stand out other than being magicless but even then people seemed to forget. No one cared that she couldn’t magically make a situation better, but they expected her to do it anyway. Just like no one seemed to care about her wellbeing but they expected her to always be okay. Thoughts of Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, and Vil drifted into her mind - how each of them experienced their own breaks during the Overblots, how they opened up about what hurt them, how everyone listened and tried to help them. She thought about how Crowley actually brought in special healers and therapists just for them for weeks after their incidents and how they still have check-ins with him to ensure they’re on the right track. 

Where was that for her? Her body couldn’t produce magic, she couldn’t  Overblot to make others realize how badly she was hurt mentally, physically, emotionally. She couldn’t voice her worries because who would listen? Even when she tried to warn her friends about the smallest of dangers, they simply brushed her off. Her words didn’t matter; so why would her thoughts matter.

‘Is that it?’ She wondered, a sudden cold feeling filling her form. What if she truly was the issue? Why was she so focused on having her thoughts and feelings acknowledged when she knew that all others wanted was for her to help them? They are all more important than her pathetic emotions, right? They have a life and future here in their world and it’s clear she’s just an anomaly who may never return to where she was once from. Was she - overvaluing herself? Was it all-

“It’s your fault, you know!” Grimm yelled suddenly, directly in front of her.

MC stopped suddenly, a cold chill rushing through her body at the words. Her fingernails slowly began digging into her skin as she looked into Grim’s eyes. “W-what?”

“It’s your fault!! You know, I had to do cleaning duty!” He complained, his little paws resting on his hips as he scowled. “I wanted to pick up some of that discount tuna before Ruggie got all of it but I was roped into cleaning! Not to mention those creepy twins came at me about something you forgot! And you forgot the library today! I'm not cleaning that just because you're lazy and took a fall! You’re my henchman, not the other way around! Don’t be selfish! ”

M/C this. M/C that. Clean the weeds. Fetch my things. Deliver this. Talk to this person. Clean this, clean that. Keeping busy, always busy.

'It's for the best. They have other things to focus on-'

She stopped walking, her head hurting more and more, as if a little thing was smashing cauldrons over and over against her brain. Her heart joined the rhymed pounding so hard, she gripped her chest in a vain attempt to calm it.

"Stop-" She gasped but couldn't say more as she stepped back, her throat clenching.

'They are more important. Don't deny it'

'They will never care about you.'

'You don't belong here.'

“I know as the Great Magician that I am, that I need to carry the both of us since you're useless without magic but you need to watch it with the - huh? MC?!” Grimm continued, his tone shifting to something MC didn’t want to hear – something she couldn’t hear.

She backed away, one step and then two before rushing off towards the entrance gates of the College. Not once looking back.

Her surroundings blurred as she ran, not taking into account where she was truly going - just knowing that she had to get away, far away. From the Grim, from all of the others, from Night Raven College, from everything.She just wanted it all to go away!

'Useless.'

'Magicless.'

‘Selfish’

"Stop! Stop it!" She sobbed, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest began to hurt more than her head caused her to stagger in her stride. M/C felt herself tumble down and crash down a slope, the brush scratching her as she went down before she hit something hard and frigid. 

She sobbed as the thoughts continued to repeat in her head; Every overblot, every chore, every demand, every reprimand, every expectation, and every sign of disappointment. Why was she truly like this? She wasn’t good for anything but menial tasks due to her lack of magic and still she can’t do any of that right. 

“Make it stop, make it stop, makeitstop…”

She didn’t know how long she laid there, nor how long she was sobbing, begging and screaming for the pain to go away, for the thoughts to go away. The pain in her head only grew the more she cried, and as it grew  - so did that pain and tightness in her chest.

‘Useless.’

‘Useless!’

‘USELE-’

Until the darkness took her under again.

But unlike before - the chill of the darkness grew stronger and more intense until it was the only thing she was able to feel. Just as the voices were the only thing she was able to hear. Repeating their words over and over, in a hell that she couldn’t wake up from.

After what seems like ages, a gradual warmth began to seep into  the darkness around her. A spreading, far reaching feeling spreading across her body but oddly focused around her back and under her legs. 

‘What is…’ She wondered as another sensation came to her slowly, a rocking kind of motion accompanied by a lightness. It reminded her of the gentle swaying of the waves of Coral Sea but was swiftly ruined by the sound of harsh thunder reigniting the pain in her head. A flash of brilliant light flashed across her eyelids, causing her to whimper.

“Are…-ake, dear?” A familiar, deep voice crooned, not loud enough to hurt her head any further but enough for her to hear it clearly.

‘This voice…I know it…I..Why is he-’

‘You’re wasting his time.’

“Shhh, your heart…racing again. You…it’s Lillia…Focus on my breathing, little one.” Lillia’s voice soothed, as the rocking motion slowed - was she being carried? M/C registered the warmth tightening around her slightly as her breath quickened unintentionally.  “Shhh, focus…. You can do it. Think of nothing else but my voice and deep breaths.”

It took what felt like ages before M/C was able to focus on the steady rise and fall of her head in time with Lillia’s breathing. The ache in her chest lightened but the pain in her head did not, only worsening as she attempted to open her eyes. Another flash of lightning, red eyes and furrowed brows.

“It’s best if your eyes remain closed. The storm will only worsen the pain of your concussion.” Lillia remarked, just before more thunder rumbled. “ You worried us all, dear. Especially dear Malleus.”

“C-concussion? B-but I…don’t have a-” She mumbled, turning her head to hide from the storm before a thought flashed through her mind. “T-The library! I didn’t clean i-”

“You will not be cleaning anything nor doing any chores for the foreseeable future, little one.” Lillia cut her off quickly, his soft voice containing a firmer tone than she was used to hearing. “You are injured and have been pushing yourself too hard. Far harder than you should have.”

‘He knows you can’t do it. That’s why he said that.’

‘He knows you’re pathetic.’

“No, n-no I’m not. It’s fine. If anything I need to push harder, heh.” She forced out a laugh, attempting to lighten the atmosphere but Lillia merely sighed.  “I-It’s nothing really!”

“You’ve barely been eating, little one. Silver told me as such and I witnessed it myself; We were going to ensure you ate this evening but you didn’t show. In addition, you’ve been having more accidents than usual and have been unfocused. You. Are.Exhausted.”

“No, it’s fine. I just, if I just finish this one thing then it’s fine. I-I can clean the library super fast and it’s all okay!” She pressed, fighting the urge to cry once more. Had her screw ups been that apparent? She didn’t mean to; She was doing her best!

“But it’s never just one thing, is it?” M/C faintly registered the sound of his shoes upon cobblestone, were they back on campus?  “After this, then there’s another favor that’s asked of you, another assignment, another mess to clean. But – have you had time for yourself, little one?”

“…I-I do at night I have-“ The words trailed off as she tried to think of something. She did have time to herself at night but it was never for long, especially when her thoughts would become so loud or she would get those odd dreams of things she swears she’s seen but can’t fully remember. 

“But you live with Grim,yes? Who boasts about how tidy you keep your shared room…so I can only wonder how much alone time you get in there at all.” He hummed,and for a brief moment MC felt the brush of something soft and silken brush her face. Lilia seemed to shift slightly, curling into her  before the gently swaying became an airy sensation, like she was adrift but his warmth continued to steady her.

“…”

“And let us not forget that Malleus often takes his nightly walks in your area; Often alongside you, yes?  He’s told us that he’s seen lights on in Ramshackle as late as the early morning hours even after he’s escorted you home.”

“Ramshackle…isn’t my home.” She mumbled, her eyes growing hot and tears welled within. “This isn’t my home, I don’t belong and that’s why this doesn’t matter. I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with me; you have better things-”

“Do you know what’s the scariest thing in the world?”

“Huh?”

Lilia’s voice was low as he continued to speak, “Asking for help. You have to open yourself up and admit to yourself and someone else that you need help. That you need someone there to help you stand until you get your footing once again. There’s not many people who can open themselves up to doing that. Magically inclined or not.”

MC thinks of everyone who asks her for help. “No one seems to have that issue here…”

“They do love to ask you for things but not for those matters that are oh-so  troubling to them. Most would rather keep to themselves and allow their thoughts to consume them before they incite their pleas. Does that sound familiar?”

MC bit her lip, her eyes opening partially as her tears finally began to fall. She vaguely noticed the dim setting around them, but nothing was truly familiar as her tears blurred her sight. “All of you already have so much to worry about and futures to plan and…it’s just…better if I don’t ask.”

“And what, praytell, about your future, little one?” Lilia pressed as MC shakily used her hands to wipe her tears away.

“I…don’t think I have one. I don’t have magic so I can’t really….. I’m a magic-less student in a magically-based academy – how am I even going to use what I’m being taught? I’m just pathetic and worthless-.”

“Enough. I refuse to listen to you slander yourself in such a way, Child of Man.”

MC tensed as Malleus’s voice rang out firm from somewhere in front of Lilia and herself. She slowly parted her fingers, blinking so as to get a clear peek between them but quickly came to wish she hadn’t. She wished she could go back to that unknown area where Lilia had taken her from and just melt there where she wouldn’t have to deal with what was in front of her and the implications it all held.

Standing before her, in the main room of Ramshackle Dorm, were the Dorm Leaders , Grim and Sam with various expressions across their faces. -----------------------------taglist-------------------------------

@mamushroomoracorn | @sailor-pom | @secondb0rn | @honey-deerling-oc | @valerieelizablack | @hanafubukki |@houseoftitans | @butterscotch-babie | @thai | @alextheknight707 | @starshiningsirius | @vanrougette | @valerieelizablack | @cherrysamasama | @over-active-daydreamer | @tanspostsblog | @pineapple-coco | @silvsilvysilver | @diu0sanr | @amoresdarlene | @alankorex | @thehomosexualsupportingcast | @formerstands | @yourunsearc | @twst-rui | @StarryOne23

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #female reader #Female Ramshackle Prefect #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia vanrouge #Grimm #Grim #Rook Hunt #Dire Crowley #Malleus Draconia #It's been a while since I tagged lol

[delulusungmin]

Forbidden Feelings

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

Your family is the perfect family, but you can't seem to keep your grades up. Your father, upset you aren't doing well in your classes, hired Lee Minho as your tutor. With no changes in your grade, Miho becomes a little.. frustrated.

Word count: 0.7k

Up next: Chan

Content warnings: Female AFAB reader, age gap (18 and 24), "Sir", oral (male receiving), cumming inside

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

"y/n?"

"y/n?"

"Y/N. Focus", he says, letting out a heavy sigh.

Minho has been struggling to tutor you. Your mind consistently wanders further every minute. Months of tutoring sessions with the older, yet no improvement in your grade.

"I've just been distracted.", you say, as if he hasn't already realized this.

"Distracted by what?", Minho replies.

Your eyes trail down to his bulge, contemplating how truthful you should be to him.

"I keep thinking of how you would look naked. It's making studying really hard when all that's on my mind is your cock, sir."

Miho stares in shock. Feeling a familiar lightheadedness as all of his blood rushes to his dick.

"Come on, you know that this isn't acceptable behavior. What if your father found out this is how you think of the tutor he hired? You need to focus, or you will have to repeat a year.", Minho speaks, attempting to switch to focus off of his growing bulge and onto your math homework.

You continue with his lesson as if nothing had occurred—that is, until you take off your school overcoat, claiming it's too hot in your bedroom. Then you slowly unbutton the top buttons of your uniform shirt, button by button, until your lovely tutor notices the lacy bra you wore for him.

"y/n. Please, this is not the time to be acting out like this."

"Oh, like this?", you say, promptly resting your body on his lap and grinding slowly, feeling his length continue to grow underneath you.

"Wow, sir, it seems like you really enjoy this. Do I make you feel good, sir?"

That word. Sir. It turns Minho on so fucking much. Every time you call him sir, he inches closer and closer to his high.

"I can't.. be doing this with you. I c.. I can't.", he says through labored breath. It's wrong, but he loves the feeling of feeling wrong.

Despite his pleas for you to stop and focus on your schoolwork, you are desperate to find out if he looks just like you imagined him, so you just keep grinding and grinding.

"Fuck~", he moans out. "God, y/n are y.. are you fucking crazy? I.. I.. oh god. I can't st.. stop myself, aah~"

Minho pushes you onto the desk in front of you, crumpling your worksheets without care, and takes down your shorts, revealing your soaked cunt to the world.

Next, he finishes off your half-undone top and fiddles with your bra, removing it slowly and proceeding to pinch and tease your nipples. Your body fits so perfectly in his hands.

Without saying a word, he takes off his belt and throws it to the ground, the metal clanging against the wood flooring. Minho peels off his pants and underwear, swiftly turning you around to face him.

For the first time, you can see how Minho truly looks. And it's everything you fantasized about and more.

"On your knees. You know how to suck, right?" You kneel before him, his cock inches from your face. You look up at him with large eyes and slowly take his curved dick in your mouth. Sucking sweet moans out of him.

"Bend over the table. I wanna fuck you rough. Let me fuck you rough."

You follow his instructions, and without warning, he pushes his length into you. Forcing you to release moan after moan after moan. His rhythmic thrusts hit your cervix and stretch out your velvet walls.

"Aah~ Minho~ ahh~", you can feel yourself tighten around him as he pounds your g spot just right. Inching you closer and closer to your high.

He fucks your soft spot harder and harder, eager to fuck his cum into you and ruin you. You feel your legs shaking and your core tightening.

Minho's cock throbbing and pulsing. His nails digging into your hips.

"Agh~ fuck y/n, can I cum inside? Please? Please, can I ruin your little pussy? Can I fuck my cum into you? Please baby, please ple-ase p.. aah~"

His warmth fills your hole to the brim. He fucks it into you deeper and deeper.

He pulls his hips back and walks both of you across the room to your bed, plopping down on it, lifeless limbs touching.

"Your father can't find out about this. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

#skz #skz smau #skz smut #skz x reader #skz fanfic #minho smut #lee know smut #minho x y/n #lee know x y/n #minho x reader #lee know x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[worldofheroes]

A Jealous Man

pete “maverick” mitchell x reader

summary: you try to distract yourself from practice and Maverick

warnings: angst, some fluff, language, alcohol

wc: 902

a/n: hi all! so sorry it’s been a hot minute. I got married!!! I promise I’m still working on all the requests! based on this request! maybe there will be a part two??

tags: @kissatelier @tomcruiseishot

"What the hell was that?" Maverick yells from across the tarmac.

"Leave me alone, Mav," you say, grabbing your gear and heading to the locker rooms.

"No, I will not. That stunt you pulled? It could’ve gotten you killed!"

"I was in control."

"You were not in control."

"You would’ve done the same thing."

Maverick sighs. "I don’t have the energy to argue with you. Go home."

"Yes sir," you say, walking past Maverick and purposefully bumping his shoulder.

You change out of your flight suit and head to The Hard Deck to meet someone you’ve been on a couple dates with. He’s not amazing, but it’s something.

—

Maverick didn’t consider himself to be a jealous man.

But when he walked in The Hard Deck and saw you with someone, Maverick felt physical pain.

He hated to admit it, but there was something about you that lured him in.

Of course, it was inappropriate, with him being your teacher. But Maverick wasn’t one for rules.

When you looked over and gave him a small smile, he felt something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Tough guy Maverick was falling for you.

—

Shortly after getting your first round of drinks, your date leaves you for his friends.

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come back to be with you.

You finish your beer and head up to the bar. Much to your better judgment, you find a seat beside Maverick.

"Where’s your date?" Maverick asks.

You scoff. "With his friends. I knew it was a bad idea coming here."

Penny walks over to you, and you hold up your bottle. She nods and grabs another beer for you.

Maverick clenches his jaw. He could say so many things right now, but none of them are a good idea.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him.

"Trying to avoid thinking about the mission," he says.

You nod. "Fair enough."

"Y/n, what are you doing over here?" your date asks, stumbling over not only his words, but also his feet.

"How are you this drunk already?" you mutter.

"Baby, come on," he says, his hands all over you.

"Dylan, just leave," you say.

"Baby," he repeats, still touching you. You try to move away.

"Leave her alone," Maverick says.

"Oh, who are you to tell me what to do?" Dylan asks.

"A decent human being. I’d leave now, if I were you."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not yet."

"Mav," you whisper.

"You know this old man?" Dylan asks, appalled by this possibility.

"Dylan, leave," you say.

Maverick stands up and forces himself between you and Dylan.

You’ve never been this close to Maverick, and it makes you a little dizzy.

Maverick and Dylan are silent, having a stare down.

"Fine," Dylan says, walking away. "I’ll call you later, Y/n.”

"Please don’t," you say, looking at the floor.

Maverick doesn’t move until Dylan has left the area.

"Are you okay?" Maverick asks you, sitting back down at the bar.

"Yeah." You stand up and finish your beer. "I’m gonna head out. Thanks for, uh, intervening, I guess."

You don’t even wait for a response from Maverick before you leave.

"Y/n," Maverick calls out as he catches up to you in the parking lot.

"Mav, I appreciate you standing up for me, but I’m fine. I don’t need protecting. I know how to fly my plane. I don’t need your help constantly," you say.

"Y/n," Maverick repeats.

"I don’t get why you give me so much shit all the time. I don’t get why you’re always right there. I can handle myself," you ramble.

It takes you a second to realize Maverick has closed in on you, his face inches from yours. You stop mid sentence.

"Maverick," you whisper.

He leans in closer, stopping for a millisecond before his lips land on yours.

Your mind goes blank, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

He places his hands gently on your waist.

"Maverick," you repeat.

"I care about you so much, Y/n. I tried to push these feelings away, but I can’t. And seeing you with that guy tonight… I’ve never felt that way before, jealous of another man," Maverick says softly.

"Mav," you repeat.

"I want to give this a try."

"We can’t, the rules.”

"Fuck the rules," Maverick says, caressing your face.

"Maverick," you scold.

"I’ll take care of it," he smiles at you.

You roll your eyes and give him another kiss.

"I don’t want this to hurt me, Mav."

"I’ll handle it, trust me.”

Maverick wraps you up in his arms, and you rest your head against his chest, where you can hear his heartbeat.

"Come back to my place?" Maverick asks.

"Okay," you say, nodding against his chest.

Maverick releases you from his arms. "Need a ride?"

"I’ve never ridden a bike before."

"Just hold on to me, you’ll be fine," he says with a smile, leading you to his bike.

You can’t help but smile back as Maverick’s hand finds yours.

He easily swings a leg up and over the bike, and helps you on to the bike too.

Maverick takes your hands and places them around his waist.

"Hang on," he says.

"Take it easy for me," you smile.

"No promises," he jokes with you, taking off from the parking lot.

You're still unsure how it happened, but you're thrilled to be going home with Maverick.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #top gun x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #pete maverick Mitchell x reader #maverick imagine #pete mitchell imagine #pete maverick Mitchell imagine #Maverick Mitchell x reader

[vodika-vibes]

For your follower event, could you write up something romntic for Cody with anemone and blue daisy? Please and thank you!

For Eternity

Summary: Commander Cody is exhausted, luckily for him, his girlfriend works on the Negotiator too.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 1070

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope you like it!

Cody is exhausted.

The campaign that he just finished was supposed to be simple. Lasting no more than a month. But, as seems to be the norm lately, the information was wrong, and the month-long campaign turned into a four month long slog.

He’s exhausted.

So exhausted.

He’s not the only one. There’s a pall hanging over the men, leaving them quiet and solemn, and even General Kenobi doesn’t have the words to make them feel better.

They need a break.

Desperately. 

As exhausted as he is, Cody’s feet don’t bring him to his quarters. Instead he goes deeper and deeper into the ship, until he arrives at the small office where the single Droid Tech works.

He keys open the door and leans against the frame, his exhausted eyes taking in the scene before him. 

His cyare. His beautiful, kind, gentle cyare is sitting at her desk with a protocol droid stretched out on the table in front of her. And one of the Shinies, Cody thinks he goes by Pots, is standing at the side of the desk, a hopeful look on his face.

He folds his arms and he decides to listen.

“So,” Pots says as he moves closer to her, “I was thinking, when we get back to Coruscant, maybe we could go dancing?”

“Pass.” She flips her goggles down over her eyes as she leans in to look at the droid’s inner workings, “No offense, but when we get back to Coruscant, I’m locking myself in my apartment until our next deployment.”

“Well, maybe you’d like some company?”

“No thank you.”

“But-” Pots takes half a step towards her, and Cody decides that it’s time to intervene.

His Cyare is only so patient, after all.

He clears his throat, and Pots jumps, though, Cody notes with amusement, his cyare didn’t even look up from her work. Of course, he’s pretty sure that her goggles have mirrors so she can see if someone comes in behind her.

“Commander!” Pots salutes hurriedly and takes several steps away from the table, “Apologies, sir, I didn’t see you.”

“Clearly.” Cody replies with an arched brow, “Everything alright in here?”

“Yessir,” Pots replies, “I was just asking her out on a date.”

Cody’s gaze drags across his cyare’s back, taking note of the tension in her frame. “I don’t think she’s interested, private.”

Pots hesitates, and his gaze flickers back to the woman and then back to his Commander, “yessir, so it would appear.” He says sullenly. He salutes one more time, and then hurries out of the room.

As soon as he’s gone, Cody steps into the room properly and allows the door to slide shut behind him. “Are you alright?”

“Mm. He would have given up eventually,” She sets her tools to the side and lifts her goggles to the top of her head, before she turns on her stool and favors him with a bright smile, her eyes crinkling at the corner with the force of her smile. “They always do.”

Cody leans against the wall and folds his arms over his chest, “They shouldn’t be bothering you at all. You’re a busy woman.”

“Well, that doesn’t stop you from bothering me.” Her voice is light and teasing as she gets to her feet. She walks over to him and lightly cups his cheek, “You look tired.”

“I am tired,” He admits as he brings his hand up and covers her hand with his own, before he turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand, “I was hoping you had some space for me?”

“What a silly question, I always have space for you.” She steps closer to him, and Cody allows himself to curl around her, his head slowly falling to her shoulder. 

He moves his hands to her waist, pulling her in for a tight hug. “This has been a very long campaign.” He murmurs against her neck.

“I know. But we’ll be home soon. And you can lock yourself in my apartment with me.”

“That sounds amazing.” Cody replies, his eyes close as she brushes her fingers through his short hair, “I have the hardest time sleeping without you next to me.”

“I’m sorry, love.”

“Not your fault. I’m the one who’s insisting on keeping this a secret,” Cody pulls away only long enough to lightly bump his forehead against hers, “If I knew that it was going to make your life more difficult-”

“Shh.” She presses a finger against his lips, “Cody, I can handle a few lonely men.”

He sighs, “I hate that they think that they can flirt with you. I…” He laughs, “I’m jealous.”

“Don’t be.” She traces his lips with one delicate finger, “I chose you. I will always choose you. Forever.”

“I’m not worried.” He replies honestly, “I just hate that they can spend time with you and I can’t.” Cody catches her hand, and laces his fingers with hers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“Almost as much as I love you?” She asks with a teasing smile.

Cody chuckles, “I love you forever.”

She favors him with a loving smile and stands up on her toes to brush her lips against his. “Forever is a long time.” She murmurs softly.

“My love for you is undying.” He replies, “Forever isn’t long enough.”

She presses closer to him, “Would you like to spend the night with me, Commander?” She asks.

“More than anything in the world.” He murmurs, and he knows there’s something hungry in his gaze based on how she’s averting her gaze and the flush rising up on her face. And then he exhales slowly, “But I should probably return to my quarters.”

There’s a glimmer of disappointment on her face, and Cody clutches her tighter. “Don’t look at me like that, cyare.” He murmurs, “I only have so much self control when it comes to you.”

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, “I just…I miss you.”

He laughs softly, “You aren’t playing fair, cyare.”

“Sorry.” But he knows that she doesn’t mean it.

He locks his gaze with hers for a moment, “I suppose,” Cody says slowly, “I can spend a little time with you. So long as I don’t stay all night.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” She replies.

“Mm. Can your project wait?”

“Absolutely.” She kisses him properly, and, just like every other time, Cody is lost.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower event #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[mlmxreader]

The SAS's Finest | Rodolfo Parra x m!reader

@guardkeywolf asked: SAS! Male Reader X Rudy where Male render manages to fluster him when they meet for the first time

"I don't bite"

Also Happy New Year!!!

summary: the SAS come to help train the Los Vaqueros, and although he's doing his best, Rodolfo can't help but to be captivated by the Captain.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Alejandro had asked for the SAS to come along and to help the Los Vaqueros with some training, which was nothing new, as there was one group in particular that he always brought over when and where he could, after years of building a rapport with them; the group in question, E Squadron, had known him for years, but the mantle of Captain had recently passed along, and he was keen to meet who they had brought in.

He was waiting with Rodolfo at his side as he greeted the mountain troops, friendly and warm each time, until the last and highest ranking soldier got off of the carrier; Alejandro smiled at you, nearly grinning, but to his left, Rodolfo was absolutely breathless. You were more than handsome, and the way that you smiled at him made him swallow thickly as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, his heart thundering.

"Mornin'," you grinned, shaking Alejandro's hand. "Captain (y/l/n)."

"Colonel Vargas," Alejandro looked you up and down as he nodded with approval. "This is Sergeant Major Parra - my second in command."

"A pleasure," you shook his hand, but you didn't immediately let go, and neither did he. "Heard you boys needed some help with new recruits."

"Yeah," Rodolfo breathed out, eyes widening as he licked his lips. "We could use a little help."

"Good thing I'm here then, innit?" You couldn't stop yourself from looking him up and down as you smiled, licking your lips and allowing your gaze to linger on his mouth for just a little while.

It was Alejandro who pulled you back to reality as he cleared his throat. "You'll be with Sergeant Major Parra for today, if that's okay?"

You bit at the inside of your lip as you nodded. "More than."

"Rudy?"

"Yeah," Rodolfo nodded, but didn't take his eyes from you. "No hay problema, Alejandro."

"Good," Alejandro shook your hand once more. "Welcome to Las Almas, Sir."

"Thank you, Ale," you cleared your throat, turning to Rodolfo. "Well... they didn't tell me the man I'd be working with would be as handsome as you."

He hung his head a little, chewing at the inside of his lip as he forced himself to bite back the smile that threatened to come across his lips. "Captain, please - no me molestes."

You put your arm around his shoulders, able to feel him tense up for a second before he leaned into your touch. "What's the matter, Sergeant Major? You never had an SAS officer flirt with you before?"

"Uh, no..." he admitted quietly, shaking his head. Fuck, they just had to send the most handsome, the most charming man that they had, didn't they?

He was beyond flustered, beyond flattered. Sure, many people had flirted with him and attempted to charm him throughout his life, but you... you just took his breath away. You made his heart ache with your smile, made his hands shake with your laugh, and the sincerity in your words made a shiver crawl up his spine. He had never been so awestruck and breathless.

"Shame," you told him, daring to take his chin between your forefinger and thumb, forcing him to look at you as you smiled, running your thumb across his bottom lip gently. "Handsome guy like you, would've thought that you'd be drowning in it."

Rodolfo cleared his throat, stumbling a little when you pulled away and silently wishing that you would keep your thumb on his bottom lip. His breath hitched, and he felt a little dizzy, palms sweaty. "Well, I, uhm... uh... ah..."

"You're so cute when you're all flustered and worked up," you told him with a beaming grin, daring to gently run a hand through his hair before you took a few steps forward. "You gonna come with? Or do I have to find out where everything is myself?"

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Rodolfo jogged so that he could catch up with you, a lump forming in the back of his throat when you linked your arm with his; the SAS certainly did send their finest, he couldn't deny that in the slightest. But as he showed you around, told you where everything was, he couldn't miss what you were doing.

Showering him in compliments. Gazing at his mouth. Leaning into him. It was all almost too much for him to handle, as even though Rodolfo had gotten his fair share of attention when it come to romance, he had never encountered someone like you; you were so bold and brazen, so outward and obvious, not even trying to be subtle.

And fuck, it was hot.

When he showed you to the locker rooms, pointing out where the showers and the changing facilities were - both communal and private - he didn't ignore the way you looked at him.

"It's... really private," Rodolfo admitted, taking a seat between one set of lockers as he swallowed thickly. You were the finest SAS officer he had ever laid eyes on, and although he tried to hide how flattered and utterly charmed by you, he couldn't.

"Oh, I bet," you sat opposite him, and he could have sworn that the way you spread your legs was fucking purposeful. "I don't reckon anyone could hear what goes on, y'know, when the shower's running and it's all hot and steamy."

Rodolfo swallowed thickly, rubbing the back of his neck as he took in a harsh breath, staring at you for a moment as he felt his heart rate start to pick up, his hands getting sweaty and starting to shake, his eyes wide and his mouth dry. Fuck, you were too much for him.

He was enamoured by you, but that didn't stop him from feeling like you had a knife to his throat; he wished you would hurry up and slash it. He was at your mercy, and if he was honest, he didn't want to be anywhere else.

"Why don't you come over here?" You asked with a teasing smile. "I don't bite, y'know - well, maybe if you ask me nicely."

if you enjoyed this fic, REBLOG IT; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM level of support. do not interact if you won't reblog.

#mlem writes #rodolfo parra imagine #rodolfo x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra x you #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra fic #rodolfo mw2 #rudy call of duty #mw2 rudy #rudy mw2 #rudy x reader #rudy cod #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod x y/n #cod imagine #cod fanfiction #cod fic #cod fanfic #cod fluff #cod mw ii #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod reader insert #cod rudy #cod rodolfo #cod

[scarasimping]

love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her. 

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age. 

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him. 

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath  "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target. 

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area. 

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention. 

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?"  You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle. 

"Speak." 

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt. 

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade,  and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless. 

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat." 

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent. 

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew. 

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away. 

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

taglist: @danfelions @bleachisfood @klanxii @nillajhayne @call-me-nayo @pinkiepiescanonn @etherisy @kazuuhhaaaa @featuredtofu @ulquiorraswife @skyoverkill1 @wandererskitten   @lxkeeeee

#omg first part is done #WE HAVE A PLOT FINALLY #pretty sure the anon i said guessed most of the plot has a pretty good idea what they got correct now #but anyways !! #there will definitely be more parts #i just didnt want to keep you all waiting for so long #hope you enjoyed !! #pirate!scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche au #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin #wanderer au #genshin au #gonna go take a 13 hour nap now

[jayteacups]

Hi there can I get a Levi x female reader who is the newest edition to his squad. Reader is such a badass on the field, and takes down a Titan with such grace and skill but back inside the walls, away from Titan territory, she’s a blushing shy little thing and Levi finds that so endearing. Oh, and with a jealous Petra too when she realises her captain paying a little too much attention to their newest comrade. Lots of fluff between Levi and reader please

And So It Begins. 

On the field, you are a force to be reckoned with. Off the field, it is almost the exact opposite. Either way, you catch your Captain’s eye, and so it begins. 

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: Fluff, a smidge of emotional hurt/comfort, descriptions of canon-typical violence, mentioned leisurely alcohol consumption towards the end, love confessions, happy ending

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Hey! I had so much fun writing this. I hope you don’t mind that Petra won’t be villianised (because that is my least favourite trope in Levi x Reader fics like ever) - so she’s going to be softly pining from a distance and not be mean because I just feel that’s OOC for her. Without further ado..... enjoy the fic! I also only proofread this briefly because i am impatient and hate proofreading, so there may be mistakes sorry lol

A number of stray titans stumble across the fields, maws dripping with saliva, large glassy eyes wide and unblinking. The sight has you gripping the handles of your ODM gear tightly. The pack descends upon the Squad riding in formation next to yours, and despite your impressive track record as a soldier, seeing blood spray from between a titan’s jaw never fails to make you gasp in horror. The soldier’s legs fall from the titan’s mouth, and his fellow squad members scream his name. Their wails of grief make your stomach churn and your breath hitch. Every fibre of your body is on edge, waiting to dive into action. Anger threatens to suffocate you, but you take a few deep inhales, shaking your head. You’d been recently added to the Special Operations Squad for your calm demeanour in the field, and you were not about to let one gruesome death shake you. No, too many lives were at stake. 

“We’re engaging,” Levi hisses under his breath the moment it becomes clear that the rest are too distraught to handle the titans themselves. “Bozado, I want you to deal with the 10-metre. Ginn, Schultz, you two dispatch the 12-metre together. Ral, you and I will sort out the 15-metre.” Levi’s piercing gaze suddenly cuts to you as he utters your surname. “I want you to take on that last one.”

You falter, staring at the final titan. It’s almost as large as the one Eld and Gunther would be taking on. Did Levi truly trust you to take it on all by yourself? You, when two seasoned veterans would need to work together to take down another titan of a similar size?

Levi barks your surname again, and you blink. He’s still staring at you, brow furrowed. “Snap out of it. I wouldn’t tell you to do anything I don’t think you’re capable of, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” you say firmly. Internally, you chastise yourself. Insecurities get you killed. Hesitation gets you killed. Levi has drilled this into all of you repeatedly for the last few months, and even before your recent promotion into his squad, it is a concept you are more than familiar with. 

He nods. His features don’t soften upon your acknowledgement, but his eyes linger on you for a moment, just a moment, before he turns back around. “I don’t want any of you to die on me. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, sir!” All five of you respond in unison. 

“Prepare to engage!” Levi says, before flicking the reins and turning his horse towards the fray. You follow suit, close on his heels. One of the titans, your target, turns its head upon seeing the newcomers. Your resolve hardens, and you feel your features settle into a snarl.

“Switch to gear! Engage!” 

You immediately hop up on the saddle of your horse and leaping up into the trees, heading straight towards the final titan your Captain had assigned you to. Muscle memory kicks in, and you grapple onto the nearest branch, determined to land even a single blow on the titan before it breaches the treeline. 

Perhaps a younger, greener version of you would’ve taunted the titan, snarling a one-liner that would’ve sounded cool to a fresh-faced recruit in the field for the first time. The cockiness has long since been beaten out of you. 

The titan’s arms are long - that would prove to be a problem if you don’t deal with it immediately. Frowning, you hurtle towards the titan from behind, grappling onto a nearby tree. As the wires reel you in, you make a large swipe with your blades, arms aching under the force of your blow. The swords dig into the titan’s left shoulder and cut through bone, muscle and tendons that at first resist but ultimately break to the cold, unforgiving metal of your weapon and the force of your attack. 

One arm down. The other follows soon before it can process its left arm has been disabled, which blunts your blades, and the titan is left with useless arms that dangle limply at its sides. Steam erupts from the wounds in its shoulders–lots of it. If you don’t act quickly now, you won’t be able to see a damn thing in all this steam. 

You shake your head, draw a new set of blades and push off from the tree. 

Grunting, you grapple onto the hip of your target, and in one smooth motion, you glide through the air, swooping low in an arc that has you near skimming the ground. With all your might, you swing your blades through the tendons of the titan’s right foot. Warm, hot titan blood splashes all across your clothes and face, and you curse as the steam begins to occlude your vision. Using the leftover momentum from your first attack, you slash at the other ankle that is hovering mid-step before rapidly retreating, pressing hard on your gas trigger. The titan, unable to stand, topples on its face. The force of its fall reverberates through your bones, but it does not faze you, and the nape is slashed with ease. 

Emerging from the steam, you discard your blades. You shake your head with a sigh, you’d wasted two sets of blades on one titan, and half your gas. Around you, chaos has erupted, but you note that Levi and Petra’s target has long since dispatched, its corpse already more bone than flesh, and that after they’d split up to help the others, Levi had made a beeline straight for you.

“No need, sir,” you pant as he lands on the ground in front of you. Ignoring the ache in your upper arms and back from the exertion, you confirm, “it’s dead.” 

As Levi surveys the scene in front of him - you, filthy but unhurt, and the steaming corpse of a 12-metre titan lying prone behind you - a traitorous thought creeps into the back of your mind: his eyes are really pretty. 

Said pretty eyes snap towards you. “I saw it all,” he says, after a pause. “That was a very efficient kill. Your hard work is paying off.”

You can’t quite believe it, feeling just like the day you’d found out he’d picked you to join his squad. Straight-forwardly positive acknowledgement is so rare from him, yet here he is, dishing it out to you. You - the newest addition to the squad, on your very first expedition as a Special Ops member. 

You salute. “Thank you, sir!” 

Your heart is still beating furiously from the exertion, though you’re not one hundred percent sure that’s the sole reason. Suddenly, you become hyper aware of the absolute state you were in, drenched in titan blood still steaming off of you. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, and when you look down at your hand, it comes away slathered in blood. Something inside you cringes at the sight; perhaps Levi’s clean-freak tendencies are rubbing off on you. 

“Here.” 

A handkerchief suddenly enters your vision. 

His handkerchief.

You pause. This is simply uncharacteristic; Levi always reserves them for himself and his weaponry, he’s always insisting on other people bringing their own. Puzzled, you reach forward. Why would he give you his own handkerchief when one sat in your pocket neatly folded? At his own orders, nonetheless? But you aren’t about to reject his kind offer, so you accept. 

“Thanks,” you say, breath hitching as your fingertips graze against his whilst taking the handkerchief. You could swear his breath had stuttered too at that, and that the tips of his ears were a little redder than usual, but Levi is swivelling on his heel and mumbling something about regrouping before you can even stop to think. 

You staunchly chalk up the warmth in your cheeks from the physical exertion as you quickly clean up and regroup with the others. 

----------

Hair stands up on the back of his neck. That odd yet familiar sensation–the one he has felt ever since that street fight all those years ago–takes over him. The closest thing Levi can liken it to is lightning; raw, unrestrained energy that zips down his spine and awakens his cells. 

Trouble is nearby. 

He inhales to give the order. In the corner of his eye, he sees you straighten up, feels your eyes on him, attentive. Ever since that expedition where he’d watched you take out a titan all by yourself, Levi has been very hyper aware of every minute movement you made. Every blink, every twitch, every cough. Now, he’d much rather leave the scientific observations to Hange, but as of late, he has observed an interesting dichotomy about you. 

How fierce you are on the field, on the training courses. The way you move through the air with your gear; almost dancing upon the wind like the fairies of myth, as if gravity was but a mere rumour to you. He doesn’t doubt you could go toe to toe with him one day, with time and practice. 

Yet the moment you are no longer focused on combat, you are soft-spoken and bashful. Levi vividly remembers the moment the two of you had arrived back after your first expedition on his squad. He vividly remembers how flustered you had been when trying to give back his handkerchief - after you had carefully washed it clean, of course. (He’d insisted you keep it. He’s still not sure why.) He’s all too aware of the way you immediately look down and nervously laugh off Eld’s compliments on your ODM gear technique, or the way you fiddle with your ODM straps and shyly squeak ‘yes, please’ when Gunther offers to do something so minimal as to refill your water canteen in an attempt to flirt. 

(He has also, coincidentally, observed how a strange, ugly feeling rears up within him upon seeing said squad member flirt with you - and observed he had felt what might be akin to relief when you’d politely rejected Gunther’s proper attempt to ask you on a date.

But, of course, those additional observations that Levi has made are irrelevant.) 

It is an endearing contrast, if Levi has to admit it to himself. Your impressive battle prowess outside of the Walls, versus your timid nature off the field. And now, he cannot help but notice you every time you are in his immediate vicinity, cannot help but think about you when you are not.

His throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Something’s wrong.” 

“I feel it too,” you say. He raises his brow at that - he doubts you have the same strange, inexplicable instincts he has, but Levi supposes you’ve always been very observant. 

“Keep your eyes peeled,” he murmurs, before all hell suddenly breaks loose. 

It is madness - the horde of abnormals has gotten the sneak on everyone. His squad splits up soon after the first attack; and he barely has time to even think about how you or his other subordinates are doing, lest he get distracted from his own fights. He falls into the same-old rhythm, a film of clarity sharpening his instincts and honing his movements. 

He’s not entirely sure what happens next; the following six hours are a blur of bloodshed and steam. 

Perhaps the one good thing about Erwin’s particular methods of record-keeping and his insistence of nearly every foot soldier filling out mission reports is that every gap is filled after the battle. Can’t leave a single stone unturned, the Commander would say, sifting through each and every report - sometimes even forcing Levi into it too, killing two birds with one stone: practicing his literacy, and helping Erwin summarise every soldiers’ perspective of the expedition into a coherent account. 

And so this is where Levi finds himself now: holed up in his office, hair still damp from his bath, sifting through the reports his subordinates have handed in before turning in for the night. His hands shake - from relief that all five of you survived to see tomorrow morning, from grief for those who weren’t as lucky, from exhaustion… he’s not sure; he’s never been particularly good at distinguishing how he feels. 

As he scribbles down his own report to add to the file he’ll have to hand to Erwin soon, his trigger fingers ache, making it difficult to grip his pen properly. Words form on the page painfully slowly, and he is just about ready to give up on his report and attempt to sleep when he hears a light knock on his door. 

He frowns. A quick glance to the clock tells him nobody else should be awake. Everybody else usually passes out from exhaustion around this time.

“Name and business.” He calls.

Your gentle voice reports your surname from the other side. “It’s nothing urgent, but I brought you some tea, sir.” 

Tea? “Come in,” he says, a little softer. “What are you doing up so late?” 

You nudge open the door with your hip, carefully balancing the tray of tea in your hands. It smells fragrant, but it isn’t his own stash. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep, and wanted to make myself some tea… on my way to the mess hall, I saw the candlelight from under your door, and figured I could make enough for two… if you’d like some.” Your eyes dart around the room nervously, hesitant to meet his own. 

“I would. Take a seat.” He gets up and draws the chair opposite to his own seat. You smile softly as you set the tray down, and there it is again, the feeling of butterflies flapping away inside his stomach. “This isn’t the tea I usually drink.” 

You look almost doe-eyed, looking up from the drink you are pouring. “Oh, I… yeah, it’s mine. I bought it from the market a couple of weeks ago, it’s a raspberry and lemon blend. Would you like to try it? If not, I can go pour out another pot of the black tea you like, the kettle in the kitchen is still hot.” 

Levi’s a man of habit - and rarely does he stray from them.  But he finds himself nodding, “no need, I’ll give this a try.” 

And oh boy, is he glad he did. 

Glancing up at you over the rim of his cup, he says, “it’s nice.” A little tangy and bitter, not too overwhelmingly sweet like he’d expected from a fruity tea blend. You smile bashfully, taking a sip out of your own cup. 

“I’m glad you like it.” 

Levi watches your eyes wander around the desk, still too shy to hold more than a fraction of a second of eye contact with him. Cute. Then, the sweetly bashful expression from your face drops to a more sombre one upon recognising the half-finished report on his desk, and something in his stomach turns at that. The sight of seeing you so troubled, face suddenly drawn and ashen…

“Was I interrupting your work?” You’re just as quiet as you were before, but now, your words come out more slowly, more resigned.  

You could never, is what he wants to say. “No. I was about to stop. It’s fine.” He sifts through the pile of papers, sorts them into a neat pile to one side. The report you’d written somehow makes its way to the top of the pile. He’s already committed the statistics from your report to memory. Half a dozen Scouts confirmed dead, all of them eaten by 2 abnormals that had been killed quickly when you’d arrived on the scene.

Nodding, face downcast, you sip at your tea. There are dark shadows under your eyes where there usually isn’t, and suddenly–

“How’d you do it?”

Levi sets down his cup. “How do I do what?” 

You shake your head, your breathing picking up a little. Shoulders tensing, you gesture vaguely with your hands. “I-I don’t know, just… all of it. Staying strong. Continuing to fight even when all seems lost.” 

This isn’t like you, all sad and tired and lost. But, he knows this best, guilt and regret twists minds beyond comprehension. 

“I’m still looking for the answer to that myself.” Oh, he has not a single idea as to what to say that could truly make you feel better, this has never been his strong suit. “I guess… the knowledge that in the moment, I made the choices I think I’d regret the least, is what keeps my mind clear.” At least for most of the time, he adds, internally. “Is this about what happened today?”

You nod. 

He reaches for your report again, smooths the paper flat in the centre of the desk and finds the crucial few lines. “‘I was roughly 425 metres away from the most nearby squad within the formation when a couple of abnormal titans, both of which were capable of running and jumping, strayed from the main horde and targeted them instead.’” He reads out. “‘Levi Squad had been dispersed across the battlefield at this moment in time. Everybody else was engaged in some fight of their own, and I had just finished dispatching a pure titan. I attempted to cross the distance between me and the squad under attack. I estimate that I emptied half my gas in the seconds spent trying to reach them. I was less than 50 metres away when the final soldier that remained, Squad Leader Stein, was seized by the 10-metre abnormal and bitten in half.’” He pauses to take a breath. “You were 425 metres away.” 

Catching on to his actions, you shake your head violently. “With the ODM gear, that’s hardly any distance at all, sir–”

“You said it yourself, you used a lot of gas to speed up, but even then, it’s still a fair distance, it still takes time to cross that gap, and those abnormals were fast and smart. You weren’t going to make it in time, no matter how much gas you use.” 

“But–” your eyes are looking glassy now, and something zips through him, the desire to hold, protect, comfort - even though he has no idea how. In the heat of the moment, Levi reaches forward, taking your trembling, rough hands into his own. 

“Listen to me.” 

Her eyes are beautiful.

“You did everything you could for them.” 

Tears slip down your cheeks. You squeeze his hands. 

Squeezing yours in return, Levi continues to speak despite the warmth creeping onto his face. “You fought well… and maybe my words mean jackshit right now, but…” Why is it so nerve-wracking? “You are not to blame. You hear me? And this is going to be far easier said than done, but I don’t want you losing any sleep over this. You did everything you could.” Unconsciously, his thumb rubs over the back of your hand, and you whimper at the gentle touch. 

Gulping, you nod hesitantly. 

“Captain, I…”

“What?”

You blink. “Um...” You look down meekly, and Levi feels a tingling in his fingers, the urge to reach further across the table, place two fingers under your chin and gently lift, for someone so wonderful as you should never be ashamed of your tears. Never. “Just… thank you. I… sorry, I didn’t think I’d end up dumping this all on you, but it’s hard.” 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know.”

It is then, in that very moment, your hands interlocked with his, that he realises. Why you’ve been on his mind so much, why he’s been so hyper aware of every little wondrous detail about you, why he wants nothing more than to hold you and cherish you to the end of time.

It all makes sense now. 

As the candlewick burns, and the flame dwindles, a pair of soft amber eyes peers into the room. Petra’s fingers curl around the door handle as she fights to keep her breathing even and her eyes dry. 

----------

And so it begins. 

Unknowingly, you and Levi cross the bridge; what lies between you two is no longer merely professional. With every subsequent late night conversation and shared pots of tea, you toe the line between comrades and something more, blurring it further and further until you see it no longer. 

You can’t quite place a finger on what it is that makes you so content in his presence. But, you muse to yourself, looking down at your sleeping superior who’d fallen asleep at his desk when you’d arrived for your nightly conversation, you yearn to find out. 

----------

Petra’s been tossing and turning. 

It’s been this way since after the first expedition. Being the only two women in the squad, you two share a room and other facilities together. She’s a very good roommate; not only is she an innately organised person, her desire to keep the Captain appeased has improved her housekeeping skills by tenfold. You can’t deny the same thing hasn’t happened to yourself. But lately, she hasn’t been sleeping very well. Exhaustion from Levi’s intense training regimen has you knocked out the moment your head hits the pillow, and that sleep is only ever really interrupted by the occasional nightmare. But more recently, it’s been harder to fall asleep at all, because Petra hasn’t been able to sleep herself. And it isn’t just during nightfall. She’s been growing distant from you, little by little, and you’re ashamed that you hadn’t noticed it earlier, not until:

“Wow,” you pant, collapsing on your bed, “the Captain is really putting us through our paces, isn’t he?” 

Petra perches on the edge of her bed, taking her boots off. Her face is still flushed pink from training, ginger hair plastered to her face with sweat. “Yeah,” she pants. “You seem to be doing just fine, though.”

Exhaustion slurs her syllables but you detect something else, an undercurrent of insecurity. “So are you,” you say. “The last twenty minutes of ODM drills? Walls, I could hardly keep up with you.” It’s not even a lie - Petra’s outstanding agility with the gear - rivalling yours and even the Captain’s - is what landed her a spot on the squad in the first place. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles, but the smile doesn’t reach her tired eyes. The silence is painfully awkward, and you grimace. 

“So… are we still on for our trip to town tomorrow?” It’s your day off. 

Petra freezes, shoulders locking up. “Sorry, um, I forgot to tell you, but I’ve actually been double-booked… my father wants me to have dinner with him. I’m sorry, but I haven’t been able to see him for months, so…” 

Oh. You sit up on the bed, wincing at the aches and pains in your body. “That’s okay,” you assure her, though alarm bells ring shrilly in the back of your mind. Petra is extremely organised - she would’ve made sure to avoid double-bookings and tell you if something else was going on the moment she’d find out about it. 

Something is wrong, but before you can think on it any further, Petra retrieves a fresh set of clothes and mumbles something about heading to the showers. 

You’re not entirely sure why she’s been acting a little distant lately, or why she’s suddenly having trouble sleeping, but enough is enough. 

“Petra,” you say out loud into the dark, “is everything okay?”

The rustling on the other side of the room pauses. “Just can’t sleep,” Petra responds.

“You haven’t been sleeping too well. And… I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with me…” Your mouth feels dry. Outside of Titan territory, confrontation is not your strong suit. “You’ve been, um, kind of distant around me lately. And you’re not sleeping well either. Have I done anything to upset you?” 

Petra’s breath hitches. “No,” she says quickly. “You haven’t, I promise. I’ve just… been all up in my head lately, that’s all. Sorry if I’ve been keeping you up with my tossing and turning.”

“No, no… Petra, please. Talk to me?” Where has your friend gone? When you’d first joined and began training with her, she was the first person to befriend you. Even though Levi is now the closest person in the Corps, it used to be her, not too long ago, and you feel a little lost. Where has the time gone? How have you grown so distant so fast? 

Petra responds with silence, and you wait with baited breath. 

“Petra?”

More silence. You feel your heart fall; have you truly lost a friend? 

You resign yourself to never knowing what is on her mind, before a voice, wet and wavering, cuts through the darkness, blurting out a question you’d never thought you’d hear. 

“What do you think of Captain Levi?”

Levi? You’re stunned, what does this have to do with anything? Despite your confusion, something flutters in your chest at the very mention of his name. You sigh, burying your cheek into your pillow. “He’s a good man,” you begin. “A little rough around the edges, but I never doubted for a moment the kind of person he truly is. I can’t think of anybody else I’d rather fight alongside. And I…” you find yourself floundering for a moment. How could you even possibly begin to delve into what has occurred between you and Levi these past few months? How could you–

The realisation hits you like lightning. 

Shaken by the discovery, you bring your knees to your chest underneath the sheets, the breath stolen from your lungs. 

Of course. How had you not seen it later? 

“So you do have feelings for him.” Petra interprets the silence correctly, dejected. She’s always been perceptive. 

Her words are the final nail in the coffin, the final piece in the puzzle. “And you do, too,” you whisper, feeling your eyes burn. “Petra, I… I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t want you to know.” She sniffles. “How could I even begin to explain something like this to you when you two just looked so… happy together?”

“We’re not together,” you say quickly. “Not like that.” 

“No. Not yet, but it’s bound to happen in one way or the other. Don’t you see the way he looks at you? Like… like you’re the first rays of sun that seep over the horizon in the morning? Like you’re the first snowdrop that blooms after a harsh snowstorm? Like…” Petra gasps for breath, but manages to steady herself to finish her words. “Like you’re the hearth that keeps his home warm?”

You’re horribly conflicted - the very idea of Levi holding you in the same regard makes you so unbelievably happy, but at the cost of the woman you’d once considered your best friend? You shake your head furiously. “Petra…”

“Because I do. I see, I see how he looks at you. And I know that look, how c-could I not? H-he looks at you, like I look at him. Like I’ve always looked at him.” She descends into sobs.

You can’t take it anymore. Flinging the blankets off your body, you shoot out of bed and cross the room, perching carefully at the edge of the bed. Tears carve hot and wet trails on your cheeks, but you reach forward, fumbling in the dark. “I’m sorry,” you whisper in between Petra’s muffled sobs, “I’m sorry that I’ve been causing you so much heartbreak this whole time.” You stroke her heaving back through the sheets. 

Petra shudders underneath your touch, riding out the sobs for a few minutes. When her breathing begins to steady, she gently pushes your hand aside. “It’s okay,” she whimpers, as she pulls herself up into a seated position. “It’s not like… it’s not like either of us could’ve controlled our feelings, you know? It’s not like we could’ve done anything about who he’d fall for, too.”

Guilt tugs at your heartstrings, and you sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say again, and you hate it, hate how hopeless and useless you’re being. 

“Don’t be,” Petra repeats a little more firmly. “I… look, I’ll need some time to fully process this. But Captain Levi deserves to know happiness. And if it’s with you… who am I to stop that?” Her thin slender arms come to wrap around your frame, and you feel her head rest on your shoulder. She squeezes you tight, and you choke back a sob - it had been so, so long since you and Petra had talked for more than ten seconds, let alone hugged. 

“Thank you. You’ll find happiness one day,” you try to assure her. “You deserve it.”

She nods. “I never meant for us to drift so far, but… I couldn’t bear the heartbreak, at the time. I wanted it to be me so desperately, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t justify how distant I’ve been… Walls, I really missed you.”

You hold her tighter, fingers curling in the fabric of her shirt. Closing your eyes, you sigh, and smile. “I missed you, too.” 

----------

The alcohol simmers in your stomach, warming you up from the core, loosening your lips. Eld had invited all of you to his house to celebrate his engagement, and his fiancée, the daughter of a sommelier, had offered you all a glass or two of red wine. Not the cheap stuff that a Scout salary can just about afford, but the drinks served to the Walls’ noblemen and councillors. Suffice to say that you all had more than just the one or two glasses originally planned, and Eld and his fiancée had ushered you out of their house several hours later than expected. 

“Sir?” 

“What?” Levi responds. The two of you walk side by side, pressed up against one another. Fuck - it had been far too long since you’d had something to drink, your prior tolerance is all but gone. You can’t convince yourself that you’re not leaning on him a little to keep upright. 

“Are you drunk?” He asks when you don’t respond. 

“I’m fine,” you insist pointedly, “I’m only a bit tipsy.” To emphasise your point, you lift one hand and demonstrate just how tiny that ‘bit’ is, your thumb and pointer finger literally touching. 

Levi raises his brow. “Sure you are.” 

“I’m not drunk,” you insist. 

“You’re such a lightweight.”

“Everyone’s a lightweight compared to you.”

Levi chuckles–actually chuckles, the sound sending butterflies flapping wildly inside of you–and slips an arm around your shoulders. You sigh. Perhaps he’s not as sober as he’s pretending to be either. 

You pout. “You’re one to talk. You’re pretty tipsy, too.”

He shakes his head. “That’s a bold assumption. I’m just making sure you don’t trip over yourself and eat shit.”

“That’s very…” you smack your lips, wracking your brain for the right word, “chivalrous of you, Cap’n, thank you.” 

“Is it?”   

You nod. “Mm hm.”

The two of you trail behind the rest of the squad (bar Eld, who’s staying behind with his fiancée tonight) as you all walk back to the barracks - Gunther and Oluo have both slipped their arms around Petra, who walks in the middle, and though you and Levi are too far away to make out their conversation, the boisterous tone of their voices and their tipsy giggles are carried to your ears by the wind. You smile. Ever since the conversation with Petra, she’s been returning gradually to her old self. You sometimes catch sad, longing glances towards Levi whenever she thinks nobody is looking, but they are growing rarer and rarer. All you’ve ever wanted is for your friend to be happy, and for one day to find love. 

Love - what a concept. You’ve hardly come to terms with it - love is something so sprawling and all-encompassing and just… it’s something you do not understand, and it terrifies you. 

And yet. 

What is it that they call alcohol, liquid courage? 

You’re done being scared and insecure and uncertain. You’re courageous on the battlefield. Why not off it, too? 

Here goes. 

“Captain, have I ever told you that I might be falling in love with you, just a teensy tiny little bit?” 

Levi freezes on the spot, which halts you mid-step as well. You stumble with the abrupt stop, but Levi’s arms tighten around you, quickly rightening your balance. “What?” He croaks, eyes blown wide.

Your face is burning - and not just because of the alcohol. The courage fades as quickly as it came. “Um, actually, maybe… maybe more than a little bit,” you mumble. Now, you feel the chilly evening breeze nip at your cheeks, as you begin to sober up. 

The warm orange glow of the lamp makes Levi’s cheeks look all the more round and rosy. He’s utterly breathtaking. “You’re falling in love with me?”

Your next words are hardly more than a whisper. “How could I not?” How could you not, when he made it so easy to fall? 

Your Captain draws closer. Heart thrashing wildly against your ribcage, you reach forward. He’s ethereal up close - you can see the flecks of pale blue in his silver eyes, the way the golden lamplight glints off his delicate lashes, you can smell his faint cologne…

His hand gingerly rests on the small of your back, tugging you closer until you are flush against his chest. A small gasp escapes you; he is so close, your blood is roaring in your ears and you want nothing more than to close your eyes and lean in and lose yourself in him–

Warm, soft lips meet yours. 

Oh. Oh. 

Levi kisses you softly, gently. As if it is his first and his last. You melt in his embrace, worshipping his lips with your own, all thoughts fading away into pure blissful ecstasy. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you hum contentedly. The world fades away, the cold replaced with warmth, and oh, how you wish you could slow down time, stop it, and build yourself a home in this wonderful, beautiful moment. 

“By the Walls!” Someone yells in the background, almost cutting through the haze you and Levi have lost yourselves in. It sounds vaguely like Petra. “They’re kissing! They’re kissing–Oluo, Oluo, damn it, turn around, you’re missing this, they’re finally doing it and you’re missing it, and Gunther, you better pay up, I knew something was going to happen between them tonight, I knew it–” 

You laugh into another kiss, and Levi’s thumb brushes your cheek as his hands cup your face. When you part, you chase his warm, soft lips with a sigh, but he pulls back. 

“I might be falling in love with you, too. More than just a little bit.” 

“How much more?”

He chuckles and pecks your lips. “If you stay by my side, and we fight together… we’ll have all the time in the world to find out just how much.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

Smiling, you cup the back of his neck and pull him in for more. 

And so it begins. 

© jayteacups 2022 | do not repost onto any other platform or claim as your own work

Masterlist

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi fanfic #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi x oc #levi ackerman x oc

[plentyoffandoms]

Gator Tillman x f/Reader (18+)

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Some swearing. Oral (m receiving) unprotected sex. car sex.

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @djoswiftie

Summary: Gator & f/Reader have never gotten along, even though they both like one another. Reader's car breaks down, & Gator's father forces him to drive her around until it is fixed. Once it is, she thanks Gator in her own way.

GATOR TILLMAN'S POV

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite Deputy." Came the sarcastic voice of known other than YN LN. All I could do was sigh when I heard her walk closer to me. I was standing in line, waiting to grab some lunch.

"Or should I say my favourite Daddy's boy." This part came in whisper close to my ear.

"Oh fuck off." I seethe through my teeth as I turned around to look at her. She just held up her hands and took a step back.

"Now Gator, no need for such profanity. We are adults now."

I turned back around as the small line was moving.

YN has been nothing but a thorne in my side ever since she moved here at the beginning of freshman year of high school. For some reason, she had it out for me, but she never showed this side to anyone else.

Everyone thought she was this sweet, kind woman. She went to my father's church every Sunday, wearing the prettiest of dresses. She volunteers with the elderly and spends her summer breaks from teaching, tutoring the children so none of them have to repeat their grade.

But I know how she truly is.

She is just a fucking bitch who will one day realise that she can fuck right off.

I stepped to the side when I was placed my order and to my suprise, when she stepped up her order was already to go.

She saw me looking at her, my mouth slightly opened. She giggled and placed her hand under my chin and gently closed my mouth. "Call ahead next time, Gator." I felt myself twitch in my pants when she said my name.

Oh yeah, I also have a massive crush on her. She may hate me, but I want nothing more than for her to scream my name as fuck her.

◆

It was Sunday, and I was in my father's church listening to him preach. I tried to keep my mind from wandering, but she was sitting in the same pew as me.

Her gaze fixated on my father, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap as she too listened. Her dress was hiked up just enough for me to get a sneak peak at her bare thighs.

The services ended, and I stood up, as did she. "Gator, I need you to drive Miss LN home. Her car broke down as she was coming here." My father said.

"Oh, Sir, thank you, but I will be just fine walking home." She stopped talking when my father held up his hand.

"Now, you live a bit too far to be walking. It won't trouble for Gator to be taking you home and driving you around until your car starts working again. Isn't that right, Gator?"

I wanted to protest and say she could find someone else to drive her around, but I didn't. "Of course, it is no trouble for me. Come, let's get you home."

The moment I slammed the drivers side door of my car, I drove as fast as I could to get away from the church.

She went to touch the radio but I slapped her hand away. "Don't touch my shit."

"Seriously, Gator? Come on."

"I bet your car is working just fine. You did this just to spit me." I said to her.

"You will see my car, broken down. Everything is closed as it is a Sunday, so it won't get picked up until tomorrow. You really think highly of yourself if you think I revolve my life around you, Tillman."

◆

We were silent, and just as she said, I saw her car on the side of the road. I didn't apologise for being rude to her. We pulled up in front of her small home, and before I could speak, she opened the car door and got out.

She leaned down, and I could see right down her dress. She cleared her throat, and I looked into her eyes. "Like what you see, Gator?" She bit her lip, and I dumbly nodded my head, yes.

"Of course you do, I bet you jerk off to me every single night, moaning my name as you cum all over your chest, wishing for me to lick it up."

Is she really saying this to me right now?

"Why don't you come in Gator, Gator, Gator, are you even listening to me, you perv?"

"What?" I shook my head, trying to get what dream YN said out of my head.

"I don't need you to pick me up tomorrow."

"Oh no, then you tell my Dad I didn't pick you up. Nice try, YN." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Stop trying to please your dad, Daddy's boy. Maybe you may get laid then." She slammed the car door before I could think of a comeback.

◆

We were silent, and just as she said, I saw her car on the side of the road. I didn't apologise for being rude to her. We pulled up in front of her small home, and before I could speak, she opened the car door and got out.

She leaned down, and I could see right down her dress. She cleared her throat, and I looked into her eyes. "Like what you see, Gator?" She bit her lip, and I dumbly nodded my head, yes.

"Of course you do, I bet you jerk off to me every single night, moaning my name as you cum all over your chest, wishing for me to lick it up."

Is she really saying this to me right now?

"Why don't you come in Gator, Gator, Gator, are you even listening to me, you perv?"

"What?" I shook my head, trying to get what dream YN said out of my head.

"I don't need you to pick me up tomorrow."

"Oh no, then you tell my Dad I didn't pick you up. Nice try, YN." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Stop trying to please your dad, Daddy's boy. Maybe you may get laid then." She slammed the car door before I could think of a comeback.

◆

I was sitting in my squad car, outside her house. I didn't see her come up to the drivers side door. She made me jump as she knocked on the window. I got out of the car to open the door for her.

"I told you I didn't need you to pick me up. I have Brian picking me up." A flash of jealousy coarsed through my body.

"Who the fuck is Brian?"

"Brian McKee. We teach at the middle school, together. You went to school with him."

"You knew you had a ride. Call him saying he doesn't need to come."

"I will not, Gator. I will not be seen being dropped off in a police car."

"So if I showed in my car, you would let me drop you off?"

"I don't know, maybe." Brian pulled up right behind me, and he waved at me. I just stared him down.

"Look, pick me after your day is done, in your car. You know how kids are. They may think I got arrested, and you need to slap handcuffs on me."

It was not the first time I had ever thought her in handcuffs, but I coughed to hide the moan from slipping from my mouth.

"Fine."

I watched as she ran towards Brian's car, and I had to fight not to rush after them and pull him over for a "broken taillight."

◆

I picked her up every day in my car, from home and work. I made sure that I was there on time and that she got into her safely.

It is Sunday once more, and I am just about to turn off the car and get out.

"My car will be ready tomorrow." She suddenly said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, let's make today memorial, huh?" I don't know why I said that, but she just smiled and nodded.

The two of us went into the church, her once again in the same pew as me, but sitting right next to me.

"I have a gift for you in the car." She said before my Dad came out. I don't remember her bringing a gift.

I was about to voice that thought as well, but she shushed as my Dad took his spot at the front of the church.

My mind kept wondering what the hell she got me and why she didn't give it to me when she got into the car.

◆

The two of us were in the back seat of my car, my hands tangled in her hair as she moved her mouth up and down my cock.

I could see myself in the rear view mirror. My hair is a mess, and my mouth is hanging open. My eyes were half closed, her name falling from my lips now.

When she asked me to drive us somewhere secluded, I wasn't expecting this. I actually thought she was going to strip me and leave me out in the wild, but no. Once parked, she got in the backseat, spread her legs, and I was instantly hard when I saw she was wearing no panties and she was soaked.

I had to slap myself to see if this was a dream, but even she leaned forward and grabbed my hand, took two fingers into her mouth, and started to suck, I knew this was real and not just some daydream.

She moaned around my cock, making me accidentally thrust up into her mouth, and she gagged around my cock, making me groan out her name.

She pulled her mouth off of my cock, but kept her hands there, quickly jerking my cock. "No, stop, please." She slowed her movements and the sound of pleas.

"What's wrong, Gator?" She got close to my face. "Afraid of coming so soon?" I knew she was mocking me, but I whimpered out a soft yes.

"Don't worry, baby, I will take care of you. No lean back." I did as she asked.

She got between my legs and leaned forward to rest her arms on the front seat.

I held up the bottom of her dress and watched as she sunk down on my cock. Not believing that this was actually happening.

"Fuck Gator. You're so deep." She was grinding her hips back and forth. I couldn't even respond to her, afraid if I did I would cum before this even really started.

She leaned back against my chest, her arm above my head, gripping the backseat headrest and started to grind and bounce apon my cock.

She was moaning my name as she used my cock for her pleasure. "Gator baby, need you."

"What?" I was lost, but let her grab my hand, and place it against her clit. It finally clicked in. I started to rub her clit, making her already tight pussy, get even tighter around my cock.

"You going to cum all over my cock?" I asked her as I nipped her earlobe.

"Yes, Gator, so close."

"Who is making you feel good?"

"Gator. You, Gator. Only you."

That did it for me. I kept rubbing her clit as I came inside of her, moaning her name loudly.

"Yes, yes, yes, Gator. Don't stop. Almost there. Gator, Gator.... GATOR."

My name came out in a scream as she came. Her pussy fluttering around my cock, making me groan into her hair.

She didn't move, and neither did I, until she finally moved off of me. The both of us are fixing ourselves to look presentable.

I drove us to her place, the windows rolled down, airing out the car so it didn't smell like sex.

"What the hell was that?" I finally asked as I pulled up in front of her place

"That was your thank you gift for driving me around all week."

"Well shit, I'll keep driving you around if you thank me like that."

"Take me on a date first, Gator, and we will see."

"Want to go on a date?" I asked her.

"Really, Gator? Put some effort into it." She rolled her eyes and got out of the car. I watched as she got into her house, okay.

I finally pulled away from the curb, smirking to myself.

'Yeah, I am a fucking winner.'

#reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #fargo imagine #fargo fic #fargo fanfic #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo smut #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator x female reader #gator tillman x f/Reader #gator tillman #joe keery characters #joe keery

[aaronhotchswife]

LATE NIGHT IN THE BOSS'S OFFICE

TW : smut, female masturbation, praise kink, unprotected sex, choking, slight degradation maybe, oral receiving F and M, fingering, and i think that's ittt lol

"We shouldn't do this. I'm sorry." Aaron said as he get up and walks towards his office door to open it.

You've been thinking about this moment for a while now. You had kissed your boss. How wrong was that ? You always been the one who never really talked and never really showed what you were thinking and now you were leaving his office after kissing him. It wasn't you. You 'd probably be as hard to profile as Aaron Hotchner but when it comes to him, you could be begging on your knees.

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

"You wanted to see me sir ?" you asked, knocking on your boss's office door.

"Ah Y/L/N, yes. I was wondering if the raport for the previous case was finish." he responded, with his habitual monotone voice.

"Yes. Yes sir I finished it earlier. I'll go get it for you." you said stuttering, leaving his office.

You walked to your desk, heart beating fast. This guy had a way of making you loose all common sense. You would be lying if you said that he didn't give you weakness in your knees. He was hot and you would give anything to feel his hands on your hips and his lips on yours again. You told yourself that if you needing him this bad, you should do something about it. You have been wearing a white blouse and thinking about the fact that it was not unusual for either of you to stay late while everyone is gone, you decided to unbutton just enough to show your white lace bra, just to see his reaction. You took the file he asked for, took a deep breath and and walked towards his office again, handing him the report.

"There you go sir." you said, hanging him the report he asked for.

You could see he was forcing himself hard to not look at your cleavage.

"Where's your politeness, sir ?" you asked, wondering where that courage came from.

"Euh thank you, agent. And for your information I don't think what you're wearing is appropriate for work." he said, swallowing hard and looking everywhere but at you.

"Well well well, I for sure thought you would be the one who would care less about that, sir." you said, walking towards the chair behind his desk, where he was sitting, placing yourself in front of him, your back lightly touching his desk, one of your pulling slightly his tie.

"I'm your superior Y/N."

"Last time you didn't seem to hate that." you responded, placing your arms behind his neck. "You know, when your lips were on mine..." you murmured, kissing slightly behind his ear.

"Fuck..." he moaned in your ear. "We can't touch each other, you know that."

"Please, sir. Please. Touch me." you cried. "You know how many nights I touched myself thinking about you"

He couldn't take it anymore. You admitting that you were doing the same as him. He pushed you down so that you were laying on his desk, hovering above you. Your legs around him. He started playing with the hem of your blouse, watching the heavy breathing of yours making your breast rises up and down.

"Fuck....Y/N." he muttered, eyes closed, trying to think about everything except the giant tent that was growing in his pants.

He moved his hand to the hem of your underwear, his eyes still locked in yours. He wanted to dipe his fingers down there so bad and taste them. He wanted so much more than just being able to tease you. He kissed you, making you moan. Still playing with the hem of your underwear, really proving the point that he would not touch you tonight. His lower part rubbed against yours, feeling the heat through each other's clothes before pulling his lips away. He sat back in his chair, watching your puffy lips and your red cheeks. You couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't fantasize over him all day, thinking he was the one to fuck you everytime you had sex or everytime you touched yourself. You needed more.

Unzipping and taking off your pants, you laid back on his desk, resting your feet on the armrests of his chaid, unbuttoning your blouse to show your belly and your bra. Your hand running down your covered breast, massaging them. Aaron was out of breath, his lips parted. He adored the sight. He then wondered how you would look like after pleasing him even more while you runned your hand to your underwear, pushing them to the side. His pants were now really too tight and it took him all of his force to not just take them off and fuck you. His pupils widened, making his eyes darker than they already were.

"If you won't touch me, I'll do it myself." you said, your fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit.

Aaron folded his arms, trying to memorise all the movements you were making, thinking about what would make you feel best. Your fingers were working so much on your clit and in your folds, creating wet sounds that were making him crazy and proving how wet you were for him.

"Oh fuck, sir." you cried.

"Do I make you feel that good, even without touching you, agent ? Do you like when your boss looks at you while you please yourself ? When he knows how wet you are for him. Is that what turns you on ?" he said, desire in his voice.

Sure, he couldn't touch you. But shit, he knew how sexy you were since the first time he saw you and helping you reach the orgasm with his words couldn't do harm. He closed his eyes, listening to all the sounds you were making : from the slightest sighs to the moans.

"Yes sir." you said, looking at him.

"Such a good girl for me." he praised. "Do you ever think about what my tongue would feel like there ?"

Each words made you weak. You were a fool for dirty talking, especially if it was made by your sexy chief. You were close and you both knew it.

"Let me hear you now, Y/N."

"Fuck...you should touch yourself, Aaron." The use of his first name was not helping his urge to stroke himself but he tried to control himself.

"If I get it out, I'll bend you over this desk and fuck you until you can't remember your name, sweetheart. You make me so fucking hard." he praised.

With the way his eyes were closed and the was his shook his head, you know he was trying to get rid of the mental images he was trying so hard not to think about. You, on your knees for him.

"Do it, sir. Please." you begged.

"Fuck it." he mutters, taking of his pants and pushing you on your knees. "Suck it for me baby."

You took his head in your mouth, stroking the other part with your hand. You could hear him moan and after a couple of in and out, he stopped you, bending you over his desk.

"I'll cum right in your mouth if you continue." he said, his tongue making it's way to your folds. A big moan escaped your lips when his tongue was turning against your clit and between your folds.

"You taste so fucking good baby." he praised.

Before you can answer, he thrust himself in you, making you both moan of pleasure. You both know that you would not be able to keep it for long. His hand around your throat while his mouth is on your neck, murmuring how hot you look in your ear. "I'll cum soon, fuck you're so tight, you're taking me so well." he said and with that, you feel your legs shaking, making you see stars. "That's it baby, cum for me. Such a good girl." he praised, cumming in you at the same moment.

His hand doesn't leave your throat until you come back to your senses. His hand caressing your cheek in passing, leaving a kiss on your forehead. By the way he's looking at you, you understand. His loving look with the shy smile he's sharing, you know that from this moment, there's not a chance that you both could keep all these years of unsaid feelings for yourselves.

#aaron hotch hotchner #thomas gibson #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner x reader #aaron x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"Andy, I'm on my way to work," you say, almost breathless as you charge across the parking lot, "you know, I gotta pay my rent, my water, my electric--"

"Not that easy, is it?" He sneers.

"Excuse me!" You bluster, barely dodging a car as you go to cross to the sidewalk embankment in front of the store, "how dare you--"

"I did you a favour. Accept it. You needed to grow up, be out on your own--"

"Why the fuck did you even call?!" You throw your hand out as you pace along the window of the store. Only he can get you like this. Good riddance, it really is a favour.

"My mom's party--"

"Oh, fuck off. I don't have time for that. I'm working overtime trying to scrape by because you gave me nothing, Andrew! You took everything and gave nothing!"

You tear the phone from your ear and hit your finger against the screen. End call. Bastard. He has you all worked up before a twelve. Probably exactly what he wanted.

You stop and force yourself to catch your breath. You can't walk in like this. You're close to tears. You don't even realise until your nose tingles and you feel the sheen threatening to spill over. You cover your face and huff.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?"

You don't move at first, hoping the voice is talking to someone else. It's too familiar. You slowly drop your hands and look at Jonathan. He must have quite the library if he's here so often. You swallow.

"Yeah, yeah," you like. You are not okay. You wasted twenty years on a man who never loved you. "I'm just about to get started."

You force a smile, cheek twitching as it bulbs. You turn to peek over your shoulder at the purple logos behind the glass. Thank god the barriers hide you from view.

"Ah, well then, shall we go in together? I'm just headed in myself."

"Uh, sure," you nod and drop your purse from your elbow to your hand, stuffing your phone inside. "Thanks."

"Allow me," he rushes ahead of you to the doors, "darling."

He gestures you in first. You precede him, hiding the chagrin that tugs at your forced smile. You see Heather, another trainee, and give her a small wave. She's behind the till doing her morning half-shift before classes.

"Well, uh, I should go put my stuff in the hub," you say over your shoulder, "I have to clock in for the--"

"Mr. Pine," Marcia, the morning manager appears from the Best Sellers display, "how are you?"

"Oh, hello," he greets her brightly, "just another check-in. Holidays are fast approaching. Any word on the truck?"

"Not yet but we're scheduling for it's arrival--"

Your head turns buzzy as you short-circuit. Pine. As in Pine Shelves, the story. He's not a customer at all, he's your goddamn boss. Oh god, as if the day couldn't get worse.

"Pardon, we'll discuss that later," Jonathan tells Marcia, "I was just speaking with this lovely employee. Always so helpful. I see training is going well."

"Ah, she's one of Giselle's, but thank you, sir."

He nods and she takes her cue. She retreats as he faces you. You can't speak. You're stupid with shock and embarrassment.

"I hate to make you late," he grins handsomely, "I wanted to tell you though that my sister loves the bookmark, no word on the book yet."

"Your sister?" You blink.

"Ah, yes, she had a birthday recently," he explains, "I must thank you for your suggestions."

You nod, fighting back the blaze behind your eyes, "no problem, Mr. Pine."

"Oh, dear, Jonathan suits me fine," he fixes his pocket square.

"Alright, um, sorry, I..." you look pointedly at the clock, "can't leave them hanging... sir."

"Hard worker," he praises, "as you will."

He stays as he is as you back away. You spin, nearly walking into the shelf of pens that stands centre of the wide aisle. You quickly skirt around it and scurry into the forest of paperbacks and hardcovers.

You get it. It was all a test. You just hope you past. Certainly, you will know once your probationary period is up. For now, you'll just painstakingly agonize over every word you said to the man.

💙

Your shift finally ends but brings with it little celebration. There is no relief in going home to an empty apartment. The rush of customers kept your mind off of the disaster of your life and now you have nothing to keep you from facing the mess.

You cross the lot, checking the time on your phone as you head for the stop right at the edge of the road. You see the orange letters of the bus banner approach. Shit, it's early.

You break into a run. Oof, you're a bit old for this. As you get to the curb, you're left in a fog of exhaust. The driver doesn't see you as he pulls away and you curse at the moonlight. Of course.

You deflate and fall onto the bench. Your feet hurt, your hips hurt, your back, neck and shoulders. Forty minutes for another bus or you could walk down twenty minutes and catch the connection.

You don't know which is better. Once more, indecisive to a fault. You lean forward and cradle your head. You can't even afford an uber or taxi home. You're better off walking for two hours.

So that's what you'll do. You get up and drag your feet down the unmaintained and crumbling sidewalk. You get to the large intersection and wade through the chaos of lights and impatient drivers.

On the other side, you head towards the light of the Walmart with several stops outside. It will at least be safer than standing in pitch black. As you come up to the edge of the large shopping plaza, a pair of headlights flash over you. On, off, then on again. Then a short toot.

You squint at the sleek black paint and the interior light flicks on. Oh god. You cringe as you make eye contact with Jonathan and he gives a small wave.

Just what you need.

He rolls down his window and sticks his head out, "need a lift?"

You shake your head, "my bus is coming." You point over him.

"Bus? Darling, I insist." You hear the locks slide back, "do get in."

You stare, a deer in actual headlights. You can't afford a taxi, so you sure as shit can't afford to tell your boss no.

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager #helping hand #series #drabble #au #bookstore au

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : It's a well known fact that Sir. Reginald Hargreeves adopted 7 children to save the world from it's impending doom. Though, the number of children will change from 7 to 8 once a close friend of his, Rita Rossweisse was on her death bed and requested him to take in her child, who fortunately was born on October 1st 1989.

➢ Word Count : 4,553

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

Chapter 4: Man on the Moon

Ever since the other numbers chose to leave the academy, Number One and Number Zero were the only numbers behind left. Luther mostly spent his day lazing around, uncertain of what to do next as he awaited for Mr. Monocle's missions. Y/N kept herself busy by doing her assigned chores and helping Pogo and Grace around the house, and visited Vanya from time to time under Mr. Hargreeves' orders.

Today was the same routine for Number One. The only difference was that Luther thought it would be a great idea to ride a bicycle around the house, whilst drinking a container of milk. The servant noticed this through the CCTV and giggled but, you cut off your amusement short because you had orders to follow through.

You turned on the PA system and called over the larger male's attention. "Attention, Master Luther. Mission alert. I repeat, mission alert. Mr. Hargreeves' request for your presence in his study room."

The dirty blond male stopped his shenanigans and hastily placed the bicycle against the wall, as he hurried to his room to dress up into his superhero suit. Once he finished dressing up, you escorted him to his father's office.

Heading to his father's room you couldn't help but, sneak glances towards his direction. Was he comfortable with you? Is he fine with working alone in missions? Would he mind if you assisted him?

"Do you have something on your mind Y/N?" Luther quipped, most likely catching onto the smaller girl's glances.

You let out an airy chuckle, "I'm sorry, It's just… I'm worried for you."

The larger man raised a brow, "Why would you be? I've handled a lot of missions by myself, this one is nothing new to me."

"I suppose you are right," You sighed and added, "Though that doesn't mean you can handle everything yourself, sometimes you need other people to help you."

Number One nodded, "Yeah, I see your point but," he ruffled your hair, "You have nothing to worry about, I'm Dad's Number One for a reason."

You forced yourself to keep your lips into a smile; You didn't want to tell him that being number one means nothing when it comes to life threatening situations…

"Also, Master Luther, please refrain from messing with my hair." You reminded him as you tried to salvage the neatness of your hair, which made the larger male giggle.

When you've both arrived at Mr. Hargreeves' office, you were quick to stand by the patriarch's side prepping his tea as he spoke to Luther.

"There's a biochemical substance, unknown, but dangerous, especially in the wrong hands. As my Number One, I need you to deal with the threat." The older male commanded as he jotted down things on his priceless notebook.

"I'm ready. But, uh..."

"Yes?"

"You don't need to call me by my number anymore." Number One requested.

Mr. Hargreeves' and you were intrigued by Luther's words. Why would he point out something so miniscule and have no importance to the mission?

"Why not?" Mr. Monocle inquired, his sharp gaze on Luther.

The larger male stiffened under his father's gaze, it made him feel small but pointed out. "Because I'm the only one left."

"Ah." The older man didn't seem surprised by his son's statement, though he shrugged it off as he went back to writing where he left off.

"Ouch. I'm totally not here." You sarcastically thought brushing off the pain of being ignored, was Luther even aware you were still in the same room? Or did he forget you were still there?

When Luther left the room, you raised a question to the head of the Hargreeves' family, "Mr. Monocle may I raise a question?"

The older male merely nodded and gestured for you to shoot your question.

"Why am I not sent to missions with Luther? Wouldn't it be better for him to have assistance rather than doing them alone?" You mused, subtly pointing out the dangers of doing the mission by himself.

"Ah. Simple," Mr. Hargreeves' paused as he drank his tea then spoke, "You will serve as a hindrance. Number One knows how to deal with missions by himself without my orders. You, on the other hand, would need guidance on every step of the way. Which is something I don't need in missions."

You couldn't help but bite your lower lip. Your throat was clogged with colorful words that were wanting to be spewed at the patriarch's direction, though you knew your situation better now. You were merely a servant in everyone's eyes, not a person who wants to help…

Unexpectedly, the mission Luther was sent to almost got him killed. The last thing he'd witness as a human is gunfire going off, metal clanging, air hissing, loud clattering and banging as he battled with his opponents. The whole fight ended with the larger male groaning in pain, as his body was covered with bullet wounds, knife slashes and burns from the fight. Making haste, you and Grace hurriedly pushed the wheeled stretcher to the infirmary.

"Hurry! Let's get him inside. Get that gear off him." Reginald ordered you and Grace to assist him.

The injured Luther was wheezing in pain as you took out the scissors and cut away the gear that was in the way.

"Paddles. Quickly!" Mr. Hargreeves' commanded, Grace charged the paddles then placed it on Luther's chest. The paddles whirred and buzzed but Number One was unresponsive.

"Again."

You turn up the paddles and increase the voltage. Whilst Grace charged it up and placed it on Luther's chest awaiting for his pulse to become more stable but got nothing.

The monocle cursed as he saw no improvement, "Damn it! Bring me the serum. Pogo."

Pogo walked up to Mr. Hargreeves' side and gave him the serum that was mixed with your blood and Pogo's, a modified serum that could save his life. The older man hurriedly inserted the serum into Luther's veins and pushed the liquid into him. For a moment, everyone went silent since Luther wasn't wheezing in pain anymore, unsure of what to do next, but they left the room as soon as Reginald told them to.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

It was early in the morning, most likely around 5 am. Pogo woke you up to share his discovery with you. Groggily, you followed his lead, when your eyes met a deactivated Grace, your eyes widened, immediately awakened from your tired state.

“Mr. Pogo, was this part of the plan or did the masked people do this to her?” You murmured, your hands gripping onto the fabric of your sleepwear.

The advanced chimpanzee wore a sullen look glancing at Grace, “Mr. Hargreeves expected this would happen but, he didn’t plan to do this to Grace.”

“So it’s the masked people then… By any chance, did Mr. Monocle anticipate that other people would get involved?” You asked your eyes narrowed at the ground because you didn't know how to take your anger out.

“Yes, yes he did.” Pogo replied which made you sigh, this made you think one thing.

“Mr. Pogo… does Master Hargreeves not trust me?”

The formal chimpanzee looked away, guilt weighing his heart. “I’m afraid not.”

You could not help but feel like crap. As the servant of the Umbrella Academy and as Number Zero, you've done everything in your power to please Mr. Hargreeves and serve his family. However, in his eyes, what you were doing was not good enough, you were not trustworthy enough. As the servant of the Hargreeves family, were you not perfect enough… Did he see the cracks? The flaws you have tried so hard to hide? You could not help but blame yourself for being so incompetent and being unable to keep up to their expectations.

The older chimpanzee noticed that the servant seemed bothered by his admission, based on how she was staring into space whilst she fiddled with the fabric of her pajamas. He decided it would be best to redirect their discourse.

“Y/N you should use this opportunity to run away now. You plan to monitor Five right? Leaving now will give you a headstart.”

You shook your head no, ”I cannot… Master Luther’s already suspicious of me, I would not want to create any more discord between us.”

“Understandable," Pogo nodded, " Please inform the others that are left behind, regarding the state we found Grace in.”

The servant bowed to Pogo and did as you were told. You informed the ones who were left behind in the academy: you told Diego before he departed early in the morning, you looked for Vanya but couldn't find her, the same could be said to Klaus, you told Allison and planned to tell Luther but the Rumor stopped you claiming she would tell him herself.

You were planning to start doing your chores along with Grace's tasks but you suddenly recalled Klaus' absence. His absence worried you a bit, because his 'disappearance' occured after the masked people came to terrorize the house looking for Five.

“By any chance Miss Allison, have you seen Klaus? I can’t seem to find him.” you questioned the older woman, hoping her answer would ease your worries.

The woman in curls shook her head but wore a small smile, “Don’t worry about it Y/N, he’s probably out there doing his own thing. You have nothing to worry about, he’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.”

You forced yourself to smile once again; you understood that she meant well but it felt wrong to brush off Klaus' absence at a time like this. Though you told yourself that maybe you are just overthinking things, might as well redirect that energy to the chores that needed your attention.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

It was a cloudy day, Lance, the prosthetist, spent his morning walking his dog. Once he finished taking his dog out for a walk, he carried the dog and headed to his car. Unaware of the danger he'd face the moment he stepped foot into his car. He unlocked the back door and carefully placed his dog on the backseat then went to the driver's seat to start the car.

Out of nowhere, someone blinked to the passenger seat. Before he could react, a knife was pressed against his neck by the brunette boy that had been "harassing" him, rather, threatened and scared the crap out of him for days.

"Oh, Jesus!"

"One chance. That's all you've got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab." Five placed the blade against the prosthetist's neck, harder.

"I... I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market." Lance rambled, sweating bullets as he feared for his life.

The boy brought up, "Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah, they're my biggest seller. I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I... I've got a list, a waiting list, probably 20 buyers."

"So, the serial number I told you..."

"Uh, could've already been bought. Yes, off... off the books."

The brunette boy glared at Lance and sighed, "I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

"I don't have it!" The prosthetist exclaimed but, Five pressed the blade further into his neck. "I mean, not on me. The only copy's in my safe at the lab."

The boy withdrew the blade and sat on the passenger seat comfortably, like he owned the car. "Well, you start the car, then. 'Cause we're going on a field trip."

Lance let out a sigh of relief, "Okay."

"Now." Five threw a cold glare at the doctor's direction.

Despite being half Lance's size, Five's glare was enough to urge him to start the car, "Okay."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

Once Luther woke up and was caught up to speed with the situation, he made a beeline to Five's room with Pogo and you in tow. The larger male rummaged through Five's things and room to look for something of use. At the moment, you and Pogo were trying to reason with him.

"Like I said, Master Luther, Number Five hasn't lived in this room since he was a boy." Pogo said watching over the comically larger male crouching and looking for something that could help him.

Luther nodded, "Yeah, I know, but we need to warn him. He doesn't even know we were attacked. He doesn't know they're looking for him, he doesn't know…"

Unexpectedly, a new pair of footsteps caught everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were redirected to the man in leather who just entered Five's room. It seemed like he had the same plan as Luther.

"What are you doing here?" Diego narrowed his eyes to Number One.

"Uh..." Spaceboy sighed then shifted his attention to his brother, "Do you know about Mom?"

"Y/N informed me before I left." The Kraken said and added, "It looks like you got what you wanted, one way or another, right?"

The whole room was silent with the latino's remark. The dirty blonde merely sighed in response to his brother's remark. Their relationship has always been like this after all, one upping the other over the smallest of things.

"Wanna tell me what you're doing here?" Luther questioned the other male.

"Looking for Five." The knife wielding vigilante briefly replied.

"Let me guess, you're gonna save the day." The larger male snided, as he rolled his eyes knowing his brother's antics.

Diego narrowed his eyes at Number One, "It's what I do. Asshоlе."

"Really?" Spaceboy stood up and looked his brother in the eye. "Last I checked, you mopped floors."

"And what do you do? Sit on the moon for four years, waiting for orders?"

Although that insult wasn't directed at you, it stung. Though you wouldn't voice that; what you said and felt didn't matter at the moment.

"Keep on being a loyal soldier after everything our father did to you."

"Master Luther and Master Diego, arguing will not be of any help in trying to find Master Five." You tried to meditate the situation but your words fell on deaf ears as the men kept arguing.

"What? You mean save my life?" The larger male defended his father.

"No, I mean... turn you into a monster."

Luther let out an exasperated sigh in response to his statement. He tried so hard to hide it from the others but they now know the truth. It was embarrassing to say the least, even though he knew he couldn't hide it forever. He couldn't help but wish they didn't see this side of him.

"Can't hide it anymore, champ." Diego mockingly pointed out.

"He had a difficult decision to make, and he made it." The dirty blonde defended their father again.

"Grow up, Luther. We're not 13 anymore."

"Making difficult decisions to save others, is what leaders do, by the way." Spaceboy desperately added, as he tried his best to paint their father in a good light.

The latino scoffed, "He sent you on that mission all alone. Almost got you killed."

"Yeah, well at least he was there. Where were you? You and everyone else in this family? You walked out." Luther hissed as he glared at Number Two.

"Everyone, please calm down-" You tried to pacify the situation but got interrupted instead.

"And thank Christ that I did, or I would have ended up just like you." The Kraken looked at him in disgust as a eureka moment occurred in his head. "Let me ask you a question. When you watch one of these nature shows…"

"Diego, please." The advanced chimpanzee begged knowing where he was going with his question.

"Does it turn you on?" The knife wielder wore a smug expression that angered Luther. It tempted Spaceboy to physically wipe off the expression on Diego's face.

"So what? Is he just an animal to you, too now, Diego, huh? Don't-"

"Enough! This house was attacked. We barely got out with our lives. And Grace... she wasn't so lucky. Your brother is missing, and this is how you rise to the occasion? Take your nonsense elsewhere. Now." Pogo's voice boomed which caught everyone off guard.

"Sorry, Pogo." Luther apologized.

"Yeah, sorry, Pogo." Diego muttered.

"Wow. It's almost like I wasn't here trying to calm them down as well." The girl silently remarked, hating the fact that no one in this household took her seriously. Was it because she looked like a little girl?

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

By some miracle, Luther and Diego decided to team up with you to go look for Five. They added you to their search party, since you were the one who Five kept by his side ever since he came back, and you probably had an inkling of where he was heading to. Number One was hesitant to let you join but Number Two managed to 'persuade' him. The Spaceboy, the Kraken, and the Servant headed to where they last saw the van was parked.

"This is it. He's still here. This is Five's van. Go. Go." Luther urged the others to hurry.

They - Diego and you - did as you were told and hurried. You opened the back door whilst Diego and Luther fought over the passenger seat, until Diego gave up as he rolled his eyes and reluctantly opened the sliding door at the back. The three of you looked all over the van for any signs of where Five was.

Diego whistled loudly, "I know where to find Five." He took out Vanya's autobiography, the first page littered with equations and a library stamp. The library was hours away from their current location.

"I should stay behind just in case Master Five plans to come back here." You said, assuming the possibility he would come back to the van.

The dirty blonde seemed hesitant to let you stay behind without anyone keeping an eye on you but Diego butted in before his brother could say anything nonsensical - his words, not yours.

“Yeah, we need someone to check on the van just in case he comes back, just message me if he comes.” Number Two ordered which you bowed to.

They left you behind to head to the libraries that were nearby, with Luther occasionally peeking over his shoulder making sure you'd stay in the van. You sat on the passenger seat and waited for Five to show up.

As time passes, you grow bored, your attention drifting from one thing to another. Suddenly, you saw two well dressed people entering the prosthetic building. They wore similar suits to the masked people but, you couldn't verify if they were the same people since they didn't wear a mask. Out of caution, you called the police over the nearest phone booth and reported them about suspicious individuals entering the building.

Just in cue, Five arrived at the prosthetic building. As he and Lance were heading to the entrance of the building, the brunette smelled something familiar - fire. Alert coursed through the boy's veins, he hurriedly ran to the entrance of the building. The fire from within the building roared and the fire alarm rang for help, which increased the adrenaline and his pace. He was about to enter the entrance and try to salvage the only lead he had, only to be pulled back by his collar, the glass shattered and exploded which grazed Five.

The flabbergasted brunette sat on the pavement watching as his only hope to save the world was burning right in front of him. He felt helpless watching it all burn away, it was the only thing he could do, as he thought of one thing, we are all doomed.

"Master Five, are you alright?" You asked as you removed your hands from his collar and crouched to his level, a worried look etched onto your facial features.

"What are you-" Five was taken aback by your presence then narrowed his brows at you. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to see the masked people come in…" You muttered looking away, you had a gut feeling he would lash out on you again.

"Why didn't you stop them!?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to stop them, I assumed you were already inside, that's why they came in. Plus, you told me to stay out of your way last time, so I just called the police again-" You tried to explain only to be interrupted by a glare and Five scoffing at you, "You're useless!"

"You haven't changed one bit!" The brunette hissed, venom seething through his words; It made you flinch. You tried to assist him to stand up, only for your hand to be swatted away.

"You are still a puppet waiting for someone to pull your strings. You can't even think for yourself without someone's orders! Is it that hard to think for yourself just for once?!" The boy exclaimed angrily as he stood up in his own accord, without your assistance.

"You know my goal is to stop the apocalypse but, you let this happen."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to -"

"You not knowing does not cut it! You just lost me the only lead I had!"

You froze in your place, as you fidgeted with your skirt's frills. Five was right… Despite following orders, you have caused nothing but trouble to him and everyone else. You have tried your best to help everyone but, why do you keep messing up everything?

"Rossweisse, If your plan all along was to sabotage me then, expect me to get rid of you. Luther already told me you might have something to do with the old man's death and I could care less about that but, you getting in my way is something I won't stand for." Five declared as you watched him walk away, again. A heavy weight on your heart.

You left the front of the burning prosthetics building, noticing the sirens were getting louder, to avoid any more attention you sat on a nearby park's bench, Five's words deeply engraved into your head. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the sound of your phone's notification going off.

You did as you were told and met up with Diego and Luther. You carried Delores, whilst the larger male carried the drunk Five in his arms. Throughout the whole walk, you were quiet because your own thoughts were clouding your head.

"Well, we can't go back to the house. It's not secure. Those psychopaths could come back at any moment." Luther pointed out.

The latino suggested, "My place is closer. No one will look for him there."

The brunette in spaceboy's arms belched, which made the dirty blonde sighed and gave Five a 'look'. "If you vomit on me..."

"You know what's funny? Aah! I'm going through puberty." The boy scoffed then continued speaking, "Huh. Twice. And I..." Five chuckled under his drunken breath, "I drank that whole bottle, didn't I? That's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof, it's gone. What are you guys talking about?"

"Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night. They came looking for you. So I need you to focus. What do they want?" Luther questioned, eagerly awaiting answers from the boy in his arms.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha." He drunkenly answered with a poor attempt of a smile.

"Who? You know, I hate code names." Diego remarked as he played with the knife in his hand to calm his nerves.

The boy explained. "Ah, the best of the best. Except for me, of course."

"The best of what?" Spaceboy pestered his 'younger' brother.

"You know, Delores always said she hated when I drank. She said it made me surly…"

"Well, you certainly act the opposite of it." The girl internally pointed out, as Five was more tamed than his usual self.

"Hey!" The male in black leather impatiently shouted.

The drunk Five smiled drunkenly, unaffected by Diego's impatience, "Hm? Yeah?"

"I need you to focus. What do Hazel and Cha-Cha want? We just wanna protect you." Number Two reasoned, only for his worry to be scoffed at.

"Protect me? I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed? No. I'm the Four frickin' Horsemen. The apocalypse is coming." The brunette explained then vomited over Luther's shoulder then went back to sleep.

The 'Five search party' arrived at Diego's place, which is the Boiler room underneath Al's place. Luther carefully placed the sleeping Five on Diego's bed. Whilst you placed Dolores on an empty chair and sat beside the top half of a mannequin.

The latino took one good look at the boy's sleeping figure, "Funny. If I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep."

"Well, don't worry. He'll sober up eventually. Be back to his normal, unpleasant self." Luther muttered, keeping his voice down, while you silently agreed to his statement.

"Yeah, I can't wait that long. I need to find out what his connection is with these lunatics before someone else dies." Number Two said as he paced back and forth.

"All that stuff he was saying before… What do you think he meant by that? Y/N, do you know what he meant by it?"

You were about to answer Luther's question but footsteps that were approaching Diego's room caught everyone's attention. The vigilante cautiously approached the door and readied his blade as he cracked the door open ready to throw it at the 'intruder'.

"You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I'm pressin' charges!" Al exclaimed angrily, most likely exasperated by how it was a common occurrence.

Diego let out a sigh of relief and fully opened the door, "What do you want, Al?"

"I ain't your secretary." The gym owner snarked with a grouch, "Some lady called for you, said she needs your help."

"What lady?" Number Two placed his blade back into place, curious about the lady Al was referring to.

"I dunno. Some, uh, detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or somethin'." The old man tried to recall as he scratched the back of his nape.

"Patch? She needs my help…"

Al nodded confirming the name was what he heard then added, "She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun."

"When?"

"About half an hour ago. Uh, said she found your brother."

"Well, that doesn't make sense…" Diego looks at his 'missing' brother who was currently snoozing on his bed.

"Klaus…" You muttered and then pointed out, "He hasn't been home since the shooting, the masked people probably took him as hostage!"

"Go. I'll wait here," Number One said, well more like gave his brother permission to leave. Without another word, Diego slammed the door closed as he ran.

"...With them." Luther muttered as he glanced at you and Five. The awkward atmosphere reigning the boiler room.

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#❲💎✨❳ : land of fanfictions #❲ ✓ ❳ : published #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #victor hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua x reader #five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #❲ ☕ ❳ : The Servant : Five x Reader #❲ 🌕 ❳ : Dark themes #❲ 🐚 ❳ : Fluff #❲ 🦴 ❳ : Angst

[coleskingdom]

Man in the Mirror

Matt Jackson x female reader

Genre Smut Minors DNI NSFW

GIF @ bloodycowboyclub

@madhatterbri @midwestmade29

“He’s playing fucking head games, with us.” Matt said pacing in the hotel room, “He couldn’t just take the nice retirement package and leave no, he had to bring a goth boy and a geriatric with him. “ his voice agitated, “ I now have to end one of the icons of this business and his friends as well.”

I had been lying in bed watching this soliloquy, slightly amused and slightly annoyed by this sudden crisis of conscience. “ Really? One of the icons of the sport, you’re doing what has to be done. The sport is ready for new icons, new greats. The geriatric in question should’ve been ended long ago.” I said an impatient tone in my voice.

“ I don’t recognize myself some days, when I look in the mirror.” his eyes showing a sadness that broke my heart. “ How have I become the villain ? No one understands why I have to do the things I have to do.” his hand reaching for the glass of wine on the table.

“Matt, listen they forced your hand, they forced you to have to make the hard decisions. Changing the world was never going to be easy. You’re doing this for everyone, the ones who don’t have spots because of this old guard who refuses to move on. Besides you either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.. You’ve just always had someone else to get their hands dirty for you, or you did it because someone told you to. You’ve stabbed everyone you’ve ever loved in the back at one point or another, you’ll forgive yourself in time, as they have forgiven you. I don’t know why this upsets you when you played into Kenny’s psychotic vendetta against Cole and Page.” I sipped my own wine . “Is it because Kenny isn’t calling the shots this time? Is it because you’re having to lead? Is it because …” my words cut off as Matt straddled me on the bed, his hands tracing lines of my throat. “ I wouldn’t finish that thought” ,he kissed me, his mouth fighting for dominance, as I relented. Our hands grabbing at each other’s clothes in a frenzy, pulling and removing them as they were thrown on the floor.

His hands moved down my body, only lightly teasing the places , he knew I loved. “Are you going to be a good girl or am I going to have to fuck that attitude out of you?” his voice cool and controlled, his touch soft,as his calloused hands dipped lower. “ I’ll be whatever you want me to be, just please touch me Matt” the pathetic desperation in my tone made him smile. “ There’s my good girl, not so mouthy now” his mouth claiming mine as his hand teased my folds. He swallowed my groan as his practiced fingers went to work, his mouth moved down my body to my breasts. “Is this what you needed?”before he took my nipple in his mouth. “ Yes”, I said my mind barely coherent “Yes what?” he said stopping all movement “Yes sir” I was immediately rewarded as his thumb moved over my clit and his teeth grazed my nipple. A moan fell from my lips, I felt my body giving itself over to him. “ princess it’d be so easy to let you cum right now, and nothing would make me happier than to take care of you right now.” His fingers moving inside me, teasing strokes inching deeper. “However, you said some hurtful truths earlier, now you’re gonna have to wait till I say to cum.” his hands spreading my thighs , as he aligned himself with my aching core. “So desperate for me, for someone you thought was afraid to lead I’m leading you pretty well aren’t I ?” his tone slightly menacing, “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry sir” I said . His mouth back on mine as he entered me, his body worked mine, the angle he chose was meant to drive both of us quickly to our own release. My fingers scratched his back as he hit that spot deep inside, he hissed . He picked up his speed his controlled thrusts becoming erratic , “ Princess come for me, milk my cock , show me how much you need me.” I clenched pulling him in and holding him there, as I shattered around him, his thrusts and little groans and whimpers as he released inside of me in my ear. My hands running through his hair as his face laid in the crook of my neck. “ Matt, I do understand. “ my words soft and soothing allowing him to stay there as long as he needed. “I know you’re doing this for us.” My hands running softly up his back. When he finally moved, he was Matt again, the softness in his features returned. He laid his head on my chest,he was quiet for a longtime, the war inside him quieted for the first time.

#aew fanfiction #aew smut #matt jackson smut #Matthew Jackson smut #matt jackson x y/n #matt jackson x reader