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fedoranon · 1 year ago

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This case is going to be cited for years to come, isn't it? Just, trust in AI is going up, and this is the first time afaik ChatGPT's reliability (or rather lack thereof) has come up in something future courts can cite. And it's eminently quotable.

Oh dear.

So as some of you may know, I love to point and laugh at bad legal arguments. And as fun as legal dumpster fires are when they are made by people who aren’t lawyers but think this whole “law” thing seems pretty simple, it’s even funnier when an actual, barred attorney is the person dumping gallons of kerosene into the dumpster.

And oh boy folks, do I have a fun ride for y’all today. Come with me on this journey, as we watch a lawyer climb into the dumpster and deliberately pour kerosene all over himself, while a judge holds a match over his head.

The court listener link is here, for those who want to grab a few bowls of popcorn and read along.

For those of you who don’t enjoy reading legal briefs for cases you aren’t involved with on your day off (I can’t relate), I will go through the highlights here. I will screenshot and/or paraphrase the relevant portion of the briefs, and include a brief explainer of what’s going on (and why it’s very bad, but also extremely funny). (Also, I’m not going to repeat this throughout the whole write-up, so for the record: any statements I make about how the law or legal system works is referring exclusively to the U.S. (And since this is a federal case, we are even more specifically looking at U.S. federal law.) Also, I don’t know how you could construe any of this to be legal advice, but just in case: none of this is, is intended to be, or should be taken as, legal advice.)

First, let’s get just a quick background on the case, to help us follow along. In brief, this is a civil tort suit for personal injury based on defendant’s (alleged) negligence. The plaintiff is suing the defendant (an airline), because he says that he was injured when a flight attendant struck his knee with a metal cart, and the airline was negligent in letting this happen. The airline filed a motion to dismiss on the grounds that there is an international treaty that imposes a time bar for when these kind of cases can be brought against an airline, and the plaintiff filed this case too many years after the incident.

The fun begins when the plaintiff’s attorney filed an opposition to the motion to dismiss. (So far, a good and normal thing to do.) The opposition argues that the claim is not time-barred because 1) the time bar was tolled by the defendant’s bankruptcy proceedings (that is, the timer for the time limitation was paused when the defendant was in bankruptcy, and started again afterwords), and 2) the treaty’s time limit doesn’t apply to this case because the case was filed in state court before the state statute of limitations expired, and the state court has concurrent jurisdiction over this kind of case.

I’m struggling a bit to succinctly explain the second reason, and there’s a reason for that.

You see, the whole opposition reads a bit…oddly.

This is how the opposition begins its argument, and it’s…weird. The basic principle is...mostly correct here, but the actual standard is that when reviewing a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim (which is what the defendant filed) the court must draw all reasonable factual inferences in the plaintiff’s favor. But even then, you don’t just put that standard in your opposition. You cite to a case that lays out the standard.

Because that’s how courts and the law work. The courts don’t operate just based on vibes. They follow statutory law (laws made by legislature) and case law (the decisions made by courts interpreting what those laws mean). You don't just submit a filing saying, "here's what the law is," without citing some authority to demonstrate that the law is what you say (or are arguing) it is.

Again, this isn’t wrong (although I'm not sure what it means by new arguments?), but it’s weird! And part of the reason it’s weird is that it is irrelevant to the defendant’s motion to dismiss. The defendant filed a motion stating that based on the facts in the complaint, the plaintiff has not stated a claim based on which relief can be granted, because the complaint is time barred by a treaty. There is no reason for this language to be in the opposition. It’s almost like they just asked a chatbot what the legal standards are for a motion to dismiss for a failure to state a claim, and just copied the answer into their brief without bother to double-check it.

The opposition then cites a bunch of cases which it claims support its position. We will skip them for now, as the defendant will respond to those citations in its reply brief.

The last thing in the brief is the signature of the lawyer who submitted the brief affirming that everything in the brief is true and correct. An extremely normal - required, even! - thing to do. This will surely not cause any problems for him later.

The next relevant filing is the defendant’s reply brief. Again, the existence of a reply brief in response to an opposition is extremely normal. The contents of this brief are…less so.

Beg pardon?

Just to be clear, this is not normal. It is normal to argue that the plaintiff’s cases are not relevant, or they aren’t applicable to this case, or you disagree with the interpretations, or whatever. It is not normal for the cases to appear to not exist.

Some highlights from the brief:

Quick lesson in how to read U.S. case citations! The italicized (or underlined) part at the beginning is the name of the case. If it is a trial court case, the plaintiff is listed first and the defendant second; if the case has been appealed, the person who lost at the lower court level (the petitioner/appellant) will be listed first, and the person who won at the lower level (the respondent/appellee) will be listed second. There are extremely specific rules about which words in these names are abbreviated, and how they are abbreviated. Next, you list the volume number and name of the reporter (the place where the case is published), again abbreviated according to very specific rules, then the page number that the case starts on. If you are citing a case for a specific quote or proposition, you then put a comma after the beginning page number, and list the page number(s) on which the quote or language you are relying on is located (this is called a “pincite”). Finally, you put in parenthesis the name of the court (if needed)(and again, abbreviated according to extremely specific rules) and the year the case was decided.

So the plaintiff’s response cited to Zicherman, which they said was a case from 2008 that was decided by the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals. However, the defendant was not able to find such a case. They were able to find a case with the same name (the same petitioner and respondent), but that case was decided by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1996, and the lower court cases associated with that case weren’t in the 11th circuit either. (The United States Reports is the only official reporter for the U.S. Supreme Court, and only includes SCOTUS decisions, so it’s not necessary to include the name of the court before the year it was decided.)

Just to be clear. The defendant’s brief is saying: the plaintiff cited and extensively quoted from these cases, and neither the cases nor the quotations appear to exist. These “cases” were not ancillary citations in the plaintiff’s brief. They were the authority it relied upon to make its arguments.

This is as close a lawyer can come, at this point in the proceedings, to saying, “opposing counsel made up a bunch of fake cases to lie to the court and pretend the law is something different than it is.”

That, “Putting aside that here is no page 598 in Kaiser Steel,” is delightfully petty lawyer speak for, “you are wrong on every possible thing there is to be wrong about.”

By page 5, the defendant has resorted to just listing all of the (apparently) made up cases in a footnote:

(skipping the citations to support this proposition)

This is where I return to my struggle to explain the opposition’s second reason why the motion to dismiss should not be granted. I struggled to explain the argument, because they failed to explain why the argument they were making (that plaintiffs can bring lawsuits against airlines in state court, and the state court have specific statutes of limitations for general negligence claims) was relevant to the question of whether the plaintiff’s specific claim against the airline was time barred by the treaty. Because 1) this case is in federal court, not state court, and 2) federal law - including treaties - preempts state law. Again, it’s almost like plaintiff’s attorney just typed a question about the time bar into a chatbot or something, and the machine, which wasn’t able to reason or actually analyze the issues, saw a question about the time to bring a lawsuit and just wrote up an answer about the statute of limitations.

We also end with a nice little lawyerly version of “you fucked up and we are going to destroy you.” The relief requested in the defendant’s original motion to dismiss was:

In their reply to the opposition, however:

“The circumstances” in this case, being the apparent fabrication of entire cases. Because courts tend to take that pretty seriously.

And the court took it seriously indeed. The defendant’s reply was docketed on March 15th of this year. On April 11th:

AKA: you have one week (an extremely prompt time frame for federal court) to prove to me that you didn’t just make up these cases.

On April 12th, the plaintiff’s attorney requests more time because he’s on vacation:

The judge grants the motion, but adds in another case that he forgot to include in his first order.

On April 25th, the plaintiff’s attorney files the following:

(And he lists the cases, with one exception, which he says is an unpublished decision.)

But he says of all of the cases except two, that the opinions…

Which is…nonsense?

First of all: if you cited a case, you had to get it from somewhere. Even unpublished opinions, if you are citing them in a brief, you are citing them because you pulled them off of westlaw or whatever. Which means you have access to the case and can annex it for the court. (There are even formal rules for how you cite unpublished opinions! And those rules include citing to where you pulled the damn case from!)

Secondly: remember that long digression I went into about how to read case citations? Remember that bit about how you include the name of the reporter (the place the case was published)? Yes, cases are published. They are printed in physical books, and they are published online in databases (e.g. lexis or westlaw). If the specific online database you are looking in does not have the case, you look somewhere else. If you have a judge telling you to get them a copy of the case Or Else, you track down a physical copy of the reporter if you need to and scan the damn thing yourself. You - literally - can’t just not have a copy of the case! (Especially published federal circuit court opinions, which multiple of these cases are! Those aren’t hard to find!)

And what kind of “online database” doesn’t include the entire opinion anyway? I’ve literally never heard of a case research database that only included partial opinions, because that wouldn’t be useful.

Maybe if we look at the attached annexed copies of the cases, that might give us some answers.

...

My friends, these things are just bizarre. With two exceptions, they aren’t submitted in any sort of conventional format. Even if you’ve never seen a legal opinion before, I think you can see the difference if you just glance through the filings. They are located at Docket entry #29 on Court Listener (April 25, 2023). Compare Attachments 6 and 8 (the real cases submitted in conventional format) to the other cases. Turning to the contents of the cases:

In the first one, the factual background is that a passenger sued an airline, then the airline filed a motion to dismiss (on grounds unrelated to the treaty's time bar), then the airline went into bankruptcy, then the airline won the motion to dismiss, then the passenger appealed. And the court is now considering that appeal. But then the opinion starts talking about how the passenger was in arbitration, and it seems to be treating the passenger like he is the one who filed for bankruptcy? It’s hallucinatory, even before you get to the legal arguments. The “Court of Appeals” is making a ruling overruling the district court’s dismissal based on the time bar, but according to the factual background, the case wasn’t dismissed based on the time bar, but on entirely other grounds? Was there some other proceeding where the claim was dismissed as time barred, and it’s just not mentioned in the factual background? How? Why? What is happening? Also it says Congress enacted the treaty? But, no? That’s…that’s not how treaties work? I mean, Congress did ratify the treaty? But they didn’t unilaterally make it!

In the second case, there’s an extended discussion of which treaty applies to the appellants claims, which is bizarre because there are two relevant treaties, and one replaced the other before the conduct at issue, so only the new treaty applies? There isn’t any discussion of the issue beyond that basic principle, so there is no reason there should be multiple paragraphs in the opinion explaining it over and over? Also, it keeps referring to the appellant as the plaintiff, for some reason? And it includes this absolutely hallucinatory sentence:

…the only part this that makes sense is that the argument is without merit. I’m not going to discuss the actual merits of the legal arguments in the opinion, because they are so bizarre and disjointed that even trying to describe them would require a Pepe Silvia-sized conspiracy board. Like the previous case, both the facts and the legal posture of the case change constantly, with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

The third one…oh boy. First, large portions of the “opinion” are individual paragraphs with quotations around the whole paragraph. What’s happening there? As far as the content of the opinion itself - I can’t. I mean that, I literally can’t. What is being discussed seems to change from paragraph to paragraph, much of it contradicting. It makes the first case seem linear and rational by comparison. The court finds it doesn’t have personal jurisdiction over the defendant so dismisses the case based on a lack of subject matter jurisdiction? But also the defendant hasn’t contested jurisdiction? And also the court does hold that it has both subject matter and personal jurisdiction over the defendant? And then it denies the motion to dismiss the case? Also, at one point it cites itself?

…also, even if this was a real case, it doesn’t stand for the propositions the plaintiff cited it for in their opposition? I’m not going to go into the weeds (honestly it’s so hallucinatory I’m not sure I could if I tried), but, for example, the plaintiff’s reply brief states that the court held “that the plaintiff was not required to bring their claim in federal court.” The U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia is a federal court, and there is no discussion of any filings in state courts. The closest the “opinion” comes is with the statement, “Therefore, Petersen’s argument that the state courts of Washington have concurrent jurisdiction is unavailing.” (This statement appears to be completely disconnected from anything before or after it, so I am unsure what it is supposed to mean.)

Moving on, case number four is allegedly a decision by the Court of Appeals of Texas. It includes the following line:

Honestly, the plaintiff’s attorney best defense at this point is that he wasn’t intentionally trying to mislead the court, because if he was doing this on purpose, he would have edited the cases to make them slightly more believable. (Context in case you’ve lost track: these documents are supposed to be copies of the opinions he is citing. The screenshoted line makes it clear that what he is actually citing is, at best, someone else’s summary of an "opinion". It would be like if a teacher asked a student to photocopy a chapter of a book and bring it into class, and instead the student brought in a copy of the cliffs notes summary of that chapter. Except that the book doesn’t even exist.)

The actual contents of the “opinion” are, as is now standard, absolutely bonkers. First, the court decides that it doesn’t have personal jurisdiction over Delta because “Delta did not purposefully avail itself of the benefits of conducting business in Texas.” This was despite the fact that the factual background already included that the appellant (sorry, the plaintiff, according to the “opinion”) flew on a Delta flight originating in Texas. Like, this is just wrong? It’s not even hallucinatory nonsense, it’s just facially incorrect legal analysis. Then the court starts discussing the treaty’s time bar, for some reason? Then it goes back to talking about personal jurisdiction, but now the trial court denied the defendant’s motion to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction, and the appellate court agrees with the trial court that it does have personal jurisdiction, even though this is the plaintiff’s appeal from the dismissal for lack of personal jurisdiction and the court already ruled it didn’t have personal jurisdiction? And even though on page 1, the plaintiff was injured during a flight from Texas to California, now on page 7 she was injured on a flight from Shanghai to Texas? Also the trial court has gone back in time (again) to grant the motion to dismiss that it previously denied?

Also, I’ve been trying to avoid pointing out the wonky text of these submissions, but:

Everything ok there?

Case number five is similar enough to number four that it’s not worth repeating myself.

Thank god, cases six and eight, as noted above, are real cases, so I’m going to skip them. The defendant alleges that the cases do not stand for the propositions the plaintiff cited them for, and I’m going to assume that is true, given the rest of this nonsense.

Case number seven looks legitimate on the surface. But neither the defendant nor I could find the case through any legitimate search mechanisms. The defendant looked up the purported docket numbers on PACER and found completely different cases; I was able to find a case with the name “Miller v. United Airlines, Inc.,” but it was for a different Ms. Miller, it was a California state case (not a Second Circuit federal case), it was decided on a different year, and the substance of the case was entirely different from the alleged opinion filed with the court.

On top of that, this might be the most morally reprehensible fake citation of them all? Because it is about the crash of United Airlines Flight 585, a real plane crash. Everyone on board - 25 people in total - was killed.

The individual cited in this fake court case was not one of them.

I cannot imagine conducting myself in such a way where I would have to explain to a judge that I made up a fake case exploiting a real tragedy because I couldn’t be bothered to do actual legal research.

Now, I know you all have figured out what’s going on by now. And I want you to know that if your instincts are saying, “it seems like the lawyer should have just fallen on his sword and confessed that he relied on ChatGPT to write his original brief, rather than digging himself further into this hole”? Your instincts are absolutely correct.

Because obviously, the court was having none of this b.s. On May 4th, the court issued an order, beginning with the following sentence:

That is one of the worst possible opening sentences you can see in an order by the court in a situation like this. The only thing worse is when judges start quoting classic literature. If I was Mr. Peter LoDuca, counsel for the plaintiff, I would already be shitting my pants.

“I gave you an opportunity to either clear things up or come clean. Now I’m going to give you an opportunity to show why I should only come down on you like a pile of brinks, instead of a whole building.”

We are getting dangerously close to “quoting classic lit” territory here.

If I learned that the judge in my case called up the clerk of a circuit court just to confirm how full of shit I was, I would leave the legal profession forever. Also, the judge is now also putting quotes around “opinion.” When judges start getting openly sarcastic in their briefs, that means very very bad things are about to happen to someone.

So I’m guessing the delay between this filing and the court order was because the judge’s clerk was tasked with running down every single one of the additional fake citations included in the "opinions", just to make this sure this order (and the upcoming pile of bricks) are as thorough as possible.

If you are following along with Dracula Daily, the vibe here is roughly the same as the May 19th entry where Dracula demands Jonathan Harker write and pre-date letters stating he has left the castle and is on the way home.

Also, hey, what’s that footnote?

Wait, what?

Folks, it appears we may have notary fraud, on top of everything else! Anybody have bingo?

So on May 25, one day before the deadline, Mr. LoDuca filed his response. And oh boy, I hope ya’ll are ready for this.

Hey, what’s the name of that other attorney, “Steven Schwartz”? Where have I seen that name before…

...I ran out of room for images on this post. So I'm going to have to leave this as an accidental cliffhanger. Part 2 to follow once I refresh my tea.

#also am i reading things wrong or did sgt schwarz identify himself as a lawyer after the firm said he wasn't licensed?#me I guess they could have been saying he wasn't licensed in the state or somehow not accredited to do federal case work #but the words not licensed really stuck out to me #ai bs #i figured the lawyers dropped the case and the client was going it on their own #the fact that this was ACTUAL LAWYERS is just #maybe suits usa wasnt that unrealistic after all

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lewdmommie · 1 year ago

Text

One night stand

Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with König

🎀Warning🎀: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etc…

ClingyKönigxreader💗

Part 2.

Part 3

Word count: 4.k

“That was good but you’re leaving yourself open.” A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadn’t noticed till now. König was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from people—the fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didn’t take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and König spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesn’t let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. “I’m sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldn’t have to suffer on my behalf.” He shakes his head at your apology.

“I don’t mind…I know how Ghost gets.” He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didn’t mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. “Keep your core strong.” He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. “Now attack me and defend.” He orders. You lunge forward —jabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, König grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. “Uhn that one actually hurt…good job.” He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. “Are you alright I’m so sorry-“ his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadn’t realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy it’d be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.

“N-never let your guard down.” He let’s go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. “Even if you think someone is done, be prepared to attack…” he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.

“Oh whatever you cheated .” You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. König crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.

“Water?” He holds the flask to you.

“S-sure.” You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot he’d drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be. How they’d feel melding with his…how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didn’t see him that way.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.

“Sergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I haven’t eaten anything of value.” Your stomach grumbles on que.

“You must have really gotten on his bad side huh?” He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.

“Unfortunately.” You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.

“Since we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.” He offers, packing his duffle bag.

“You know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked up…” you say with an annoyed tone.

“Who said anything about the kitchen?” His voice sounds mischievous.

“You don’t mean-?” You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.

“Come on, he’ll never know I’ve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.” He tilts his head expressively.

“Fine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.” You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.

“Puedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) Sí…un bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).” He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.

“Wow I’ve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.” You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. König watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.

“I can speak a few languages but I’m not good at them all.” He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when you’re nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.

“What other languages do you speak?” You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, it’d been so long since you’ve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.

“German is my first language.” He reveals.

“German? That’s so cool , say something in German.” He chuckles at your excitement.

“Ich möchte dich über diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)” he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.

“W-what does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you one day.” He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.

“I thought friends don’t keep things from eachother.” You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. König tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.

“Whoa it’s strong.” The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.

“You’re right…I see why everyone is having such a good time.” You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. It’s one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.

“I guess we’d better join the party.” He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.

The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. König shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.

“This is soooo good.” You say having another bite.

“I love this place. I come here often.” He slides in another chip.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe that’s just me.” Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.

“We aren’t but if you don’t get caught, did it ever happen?” He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.

“And they call me the troublemaker.” You say glancing at the dance floor again.

“Do you want to?” He asks.

“Want to what? Dance?…no I don’t uh I don’t dance.” You dismiss quickly.

“ I’ve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing can’t be much harder than that.”

“You know you’re much more social than usual.” You observe.

“Only when I’m with you.” He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.

The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. König slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat “I’m so sorry! I’m so bad at this maybe I should sit-“

“Let’s try this instead.” His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.

“Follow my lead.” He commands.

His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.

“Scheisse (Shit)” he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and you’re the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.

“Don’t look away from me.” König’s voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. “Bitte komm mit mir nach Hause” he whispers in your ear.

“What’s that?”

“Please come home with me.” He breathes.

“How the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?” You ask, stepping past the threshold.

“ My social skills and big personality helped with that.” He jokes sarcastically. König wasn’t required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.

“Well I guess if you don’t talk much there isn’t much you could say to get in trouble.” You ponder.

“Yeah you should try it.” He chuckles at your shocked expression.

“Try what exactly?” You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.

“Not talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.”

“Give me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.” Your arms cross.

“If I recall correctly you said and I quote ‘why would I listen to a dude named Simon?’ ” he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.

“First of all he wasn’t supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.” He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.

His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension you’ve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. “That feels so good, König.” You groan, closing your eyes.

“Come with me.” He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. He’s clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.

He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. “Baby oil” the label reads.

“Strip.” He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.

“S-strip?”

“Yes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isn’t it?” He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.

His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6”. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies let’s just say you have braids or a wig). If you’d known you’d be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. He’s silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.

“Lay on the bed.” He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.

You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. He’s flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasn’t a side of you he’d seen before. The military couldn’t break you…but he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.

“In the way-“ he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in Königs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.

“Flip over.” He grunts, tossing you around.

Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. König doesn’t hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“On your knees.” His voice is breathy and low.

your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, you’re at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldn’t see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.

“Scheiße (Fuck)” he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than he’s imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.

“You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.

You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.

“Oh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.” He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.

“Ask nicely.” He orders.

“Can I touch you…please.” You beg.

He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. “Ah what are you-“ you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is König. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.

“Open up for me, I’m gonna give you everything I have.” He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper “Just alittle more baby, you’re taking me so well…s’good s’fucking good.” He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.

“I feel you twitching around me princess, you can’t cum yet, I’m not done breaking you.” He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didn’t even know existed.

“Ah ah s’to big I-I can’t I can’t.” You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.

“You’re gonna take what…I…give…you.” He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.

“Your pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.” He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. “That pretty mouth isn’t so dangerous now.” Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.

“P-please I’m gonna…ah!” He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.

“You have such a cute tummy.” He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.

“You would make such a pretty mommy.” He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.

His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.

“Late again huh, rookie? That’s an extra week.” You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last night’s events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of Königs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.

“I was…sick.” You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.

“Sick? You were fine yesterday.” He says with a flat tone.

“Must have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.” You grunt, rubbing your stomach.

“Next time you’re sick. You report it to me in advance.” He orders.

“How can I predict when I’m gonna be sick?-“

“Don’t question me.” He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.

“Okay Simon.” You mock.

“What was that rookie?” He calls back.

“Nothing Sargeant!” You exclaim.

He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing König, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.

“There you are.” He charges forward looking down at you.

“H-here I am whats up König…do you need a copy of that report-“

“Why did you sneak out last night.” He interrupts.

“Psh me? Sneak out I didn’t sneak out. I just went for a walk…and ended up in my bed.” You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.

“Why couldn’t we sleep together?” He asks.

You fly to your feet in a panic “Shhh! What if someone hears you?”

“So what?” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Superior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!” You whisper/yell.

“Right…hm, okay in here then.” He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.

“Can’t this wait till after hours.” You say with an annoyed tone.

“I want an explanation.” His arm rests on the wall above your head.

“This. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now I’m stuck in a bathroom stall talking about…feelings.” You hold your stomach making a pained face.

“This isn’t funny.” His voice is low.

“You’re right it isn’t but it is complicated .”

“Y/n? You in here?” A voice calls.

You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.

“Yeah! I was just cleaning!” You call back.

“Who were you talking too?” She asks her foot steps advancing.

“No one! Here I come!” You let him go squinting your eyes.

“This isn’t over.” He whispers sharply, moving to the side.

“I can see that.” You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.

…to be continued?

5K notes · View notes

thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 days ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught.

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it.

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right?

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you?

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how?

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never.

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock.

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you.

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.”

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can��t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more.

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts.

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster.

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…”

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him.

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening?

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say.

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk.

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,” you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says.

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering.

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more.

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire.

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground.

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs.

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in.

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft.

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet.

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass."

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard.

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night.

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them.

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods.

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse.

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove.

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged.

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage.

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin.

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip.

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod.

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head.

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you.

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover.

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss.

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere.

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give.

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated.

No one gets left behind tonight.

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder.

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them.

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer.

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven.

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans.

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps.

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.”

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching.

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back.

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking.

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

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67-romeo · 4 months ago

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Carlos N. Hathcock II was born in 1942. Those of you with time behind the glass know the name, know the legend, and have probably read MARINE SNIPER by Charles Henderson, the book that immortalized Gunnery Sgt. (Ret.) Carlos N. Hathcock II, USMC. Vietnam was a watershed period in the history of both special operations and sniping, and MARINE SNIPER was a fascinating look at that period through a 10 power Unertl scope atop a .30-06 Winchester Model 70. Major E.J. Land writes in the foreword to Henderson’s book: “The sniper is the big-game hunter of the battlefield, and he needs all the skills of the woodsman, marksman, hunter, and poacher.” Future snipers take note.

•

Hathcock’s Silver Star would be awarded almost three decades after his experience in Vietnam, not for one or all of his 93 confirmed kills, but for dragging seven wounded Marines out of the back of an APC after it hit a mine and burst into flames, the same action that ended his time in uniform.

The citation reads: “with complete disregard for his own safety and while suffering an excruciating pain from his burns, he bravely ran back through the flames and exploding ammunition to ensure that no Marines had been left behind." In Carlos Hathcock’s obituary for the Washington Post in 1999, Stephen Hunter wrote, “In two tours in the 1960s, he wandered through the big bad bush in the Republic of South Vietnam...with a rifle made by Winchester, a heart made by God and a discipline made by the Marine Corps.”

#carlos hathcock #military history

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nervouseden · 5 months ago

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God Among Men.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: After a stressful mission, your super soldier boyfriend needs you... This is literal trash. I apologize.

Warnings: SMUT. Brief mention of religious stuff. Worshipping. Misuse of religious terms. Collar and leash (it's really only mentioned like once or twice). Gender neutral reader. Blowjob. Face fucking. Finger sucking. Bucky Barnes (he's a warning). Metal arm (kink). A tad bit of hair pulling. Rough blowjob. Reader isn't the best at communicating. Praise. Some brief degradation. Voice kink (because who couldn't love that sweet baritone?). Brief mention of Shuri and Wakanda. Sir kink. Tears. Choking (from bj). Deep throating. Dom Bucky. Sub reader. Bucky's kinda rough. But also super sweet and concerned. Use of safe signal(?) like a safe word but nonverbal. Brief after care. Loosely Implied fingering/penetration afterwards. Like zero plot. Porn without Plot/Plot? What plot? Mildly dubious consent (not really, but I just want to be safe with my warnings!)

Please comment if you think I missed anything!

A/N: This is like my second or third time writing actual smut, please give me grace— Also I had this idea while sleep deprived and I'm currently stuck in artists/writers block so it's probably not my best work. But, I tried. This was written on my phone and not proofread, so I do apologize for any and all mistakes/typos.

A/N #2: I have absolutely nothing against any religions or religious people, and this is not meant to offend or target anybody in any way, shape, or form!

I do not own any characters mentioned in this story or the gif.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+!!! MINORS AND PEARL CLUTCHERS PLEASE DNI!!!

You were never a very religious person, having loose beliefs that you didn't necessarily align with anything specific, and you were fine with that, but that all changed one day, and in the way you least expected it. The day you first hooked up with Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, or, as you knew him, Bucky, your best friend. You swear that night you might've been to Heaven, or Valhalla, or maybe even reached Nirvana, but whatever it was, it was caused by the super soldier Avenger fucking you into oblivion, with a godly body and otherworldly skills. Not only does he look like some mythical god, but he has the skills and the strength of one too. A god among men.

Bucky is a complicated man; He doesn't talk much, but once you get him going, he could talk to you for hours. He is tall and broad, dark and brooding, with a glare that could kill, but also sweet and soft, caring and considerate, with a smile that makes you weak in the knees... So, when your relationship evolved into something sexual, it wasn't a surprise when his prowess matched his godly looks. His quick wit matched by his skilled tongue. Strong hands matched with his (surprisingly) nimble fingers. He's also a kinky mother fucker.

Today, after Bucky got back from a rough, week long mission, apparently most of the team getting their asses kicked, you found yourself on your knees in front of him, naked, wearing nothing back a black leather collar and a silver chainlink leash, your head resting on his lap as he gently pets your cheek with his flesh hand.

"Doll," Bucky's voice is low, lower than usual, and it sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, shocking your core.

"Yes, sir?" Your voice is soft, quiet, and shaky, a mix of nervousness, arousal, and hours of teasing from this man, this god, making you weak, your voice a minute version of it's usual sound, making Bucky chuckle.

You look up at him through heavy eyelids, your eyes raking up his body hungrily; He's wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and you're not entirely sure about boxers. His long hair is tousled, the dark locks resting on his broad shoulders, the otherworldly muscles rippling under his skin covered in scars, his normally bright blue eyes darkened to an almost eerie tungsten blue. He's a literal god. The epitome of divinity.

"You've been so good~" Bucky practically purrs, and you already feel your abdomen tightening. "But not good enough."

Well shit.

You're definitely not getting what you want tonight.

"Talk to me, Kätzchen. Tell me what you're thinkin' about." You hesitate, but you know better than to directly disobey.

"I..." You look down, biting your lip. "I was thinking about you... H-How beautiful you are, James..."

Bucky smirks. This wasn't what he was expecting. "Oh?"

You simply nod. "Do elaborate, Kätzchen." Bucky quirks a brow, and you fight the urge to squirm in embarrassment.

"Y-You..." You sigh, deciding to bite the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs at you and uses it against you? That'd suck... but it would be a lot worse if you didn't speak. Those are always back. You don't want another spanking...and definitely not the crop. Yeah, no, that'd be bad. Better spit it out.

"You're fuckin' beautiful..." You practically whimper, and Bucky smirks.

"I know you've got more than that, sweetness." Bucky teases, and you know he's right. He's always right... It's unfair. How can a man possibly be so attractive and smart? You're starting to think he might actually be a higher power. "C'mon, doll, don't make me hit it outta ya."

Shit. That's a threat. "You're... You're a god among men, Sir... Divinity in itself... Crafted from the finest of marbles known to man... I want to submit everything I have to you."

Bucky simply smirks.

Uh oh.

"Is that so, Kätzchen?" You swallow hard, nodding, watching his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that could burn you to the ground. Yup. Definitely a god.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I... You are my god, James..." Oops. Normally Bucky doesn't take kindly to being called his name during scenes, but for some reason, he just smirks and lets it slide. That's different.

"I want my body to be your altar, your temple, your church... I am your devotee..." You whisper softly, your voice shaky and almost nervous, scared, although you're unsure what you're scared of.

"Darling..." Bucky growls, his pupils dilated so much you can barely see the ring of blue, his vibranium hand clenching on lap, his breathing picking up, that beautiful, chiseled chest rising and falling faster by the second, sweat starting to bead on his skin... You did that?

"You have such pretty lips, yet such nasty words..."

Bucky's Vibranium hand moves to the back of your neck suddenly, grabbing you by the nape of it, pushing your face into his clothed crotch, allowing you to feel the feverish heat, the wet spot on his sweats, and the rock that is his cock. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep sayin' shit like that, doll."

You whimper. Loudly. Pathetically. Lewdly. What the fuck else are you supposed to do? You just mentally brought THE Sargeant James Barnes to his knees from just a few sentences, you don't know whether to be terrified or proud... But, either way, you're not given much time to decipher how you feel, as Bucky starts to rub the side of your cheek against his strained length, the rough cotton of his sweatpants irritating your sweat shined cheeks.

"You're gonna be a good little devotee. You're gonna listen, you're gonna do as told, and you're gonna take what I give you, like a good cock slut."

Bucky's voice is a deep, dangerous growl, the sound rumbling through his chest, rolling down his abdomen and vibrating through him and into you, shooting electricity through your body, your nerves immediately on fire, your thighs quaking, your mind reeling into the abyss of lust.

"Aren't you, Kätzchen?" Bucky says with a groan, looking at you expectantly, a dark smirk on his face.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I will... I'll b-be good..." You whimper out, look up at him with doe eyes, fighting the urge to look down as he slides his sweatpants to his ankles, tossing them aside.

Bucky gently cups your chin with his vibranium hand, the dark metal shining in the dimly lit room as he puts his thumb against your lips, grinning at the feeling. "Open."

You immediately do as told, parting your lips, slowly swirling your warm tongue around his thumb as he slides the cool metal into your mouth, causing Bucky to groan sorry... It's moments like these when Bucky is most grateful to Shuri for creating touch sensors in the arm, allowing him to feel everything you do to his Vibranium arm... Wakandan technology truly is incredible.

"That's a good little whore..." Bucky groans as he uses his thumb in your mouth to tilt your head down, your eyes widening as they meet the sight of Bucky's cock.

Huh. He wasn't wearing any boxers.

"Let this be your first sacrament, devotee." Bucky chuckled.

Long. Impressive. Intimidating. Yet another reason you're starting to think he might actually be a god. No matter how many times you see it, swallow it, and take it, it's always just as intimidating as the first time. His cock is tall, curving slightly as it goes up, getting redder until it gets to the almost purple tip, your hand barely able to wrap around the girth, one large vein going from the shaft to the tip, where creamy pre-cum is beading. You might as well be salivating...and shaking in fear.

"C'mon, doll, I know you can take it." Bucky purred, wrapping his vibranium hand in your hair, guiding your face to rub against his length. It's almost humiliating. But it's also beyond arousing.

"Yes, sir." You mutter softly, licking your lips, raising your head when Bucky loosens his grip on your hair. You spit on the head of Bucky's cock, causing it to twitch where it stands, before gently wrapping your mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit, causing Bucky to groan.

"Your god is losing patience, Kätzchen." Bucky growls, before tightening his vibranium hand in your hair, violently pushing your head down his cock, his length forcefully sliding down your velvety throat, only stopping when your nose is flush with his pelvic bone, groaning as he revels in the feeling, hissing as his head falls back in pleasure. "Shiiiit— So warm, Kätzchen...like fuckin' silk, doll..."

To nobody's surprise, you choke, choke hard, coughing around Bucky's member, who simply enjoys the way your throat constricts when you do so. Tears quickly form, as you try to focus on relaxing your throat and taking deep breaths in through your nose, but are quickly cut off as Bucky pulls your hair back, sliding your mouth off his length before pushing your head back down.

"Fuckin' perfect... gorgeous little devotee..." Bucky groans, starting to roll his hips as he continues to roughly guide your head up and down his cock, face fucking you as you cry and choke. Yup. You definitely fucked up calling him James.

Bucky had been tense since he texted you from the Quinjet, so when he starts to throb in your mouth rather than usual, you're not necessarily surprised, that mission really took a toll on him. You hollow your cheeks, and start gently scraping your teeth against Bucky's length as he continues to thrust into your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every snap of his strong hips.

"That's it, Kätzchen, worship me, your fuckin' god-"

Fuck, you were dizzy.

Your eyes start to roll back, head feeling fuzzy, your body seeming heavier, the restricted intake of oxygen starting to get to you, as more tears fall, but being the absolute bitch you are for Bucky, you're determined to make him cum before taking a breather.

"C'mon, babydoll, I'm so close... Lemme cum in your pretty little mouth... Let me desecrate the perfect altar that is you..." He groans, his hips snapping harder, shuddering at your teeth scraping his skin, only to be soothed by your hollowed cheeks and hot throat.

Your vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, but you still didn't communicate your need to breathe... Instead, you move your hands up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them roughly as you suck harder at his length.

That was all it took.

"Fuck!"

Bucky growls, the sound dark and primal, sending jolts of pleasure to your deprived body, his flesh hand joining his vibranium one in your hair, holding you uncomfortably flush to his skin as his cock throbs, pulsing rapidly as rope after rope of hot cum spills down your throat, your hands still massaging his balls as they empty into you, your muscles working overtime to swallow it all... Since being with him, you found that super soldiers have loads like damn fire hydrants. Not that you're complaining. Usually.

"Baby... Ughhh—" You had expected Bucky to pull you off his cock once he finished, but he didn't, instead he held you flat to his pelvis, basking in the feeling of your hot, velvet throat surrounding him, groaning and growling in pleasure.

You couldn't do it. Your vision was completely blurred, tears still falling, your feelings like concrete, sweat pouring down you, your mind fogged like shower glass. You take your right hand, tapping your index, middle, and ring finger on his thigh three consecutive times.

He immediately pulls your head off his length, pulling you up to his lap as you cough and suck in heavy breaths.

"Doll? Doll, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Bucky asks hurriedly, his vibranium hand holding you close to him and rubbing your back, while his flesh hand gently holds your face. "Darling, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

It takes you a few moments to process his words, as they sounded more like mumbles from underwater at first. But, as your vision cleared, your tears stopped, the fogginess left your mind, and your breathing started regulating, you finally registered his words and nodded yes. "Y-Yeah... I- I'm fine..." You murmur with a raspy voice, your throat scratchy from the rough blowjob.

Bucky sighed in relief, brushing away your tears with his flesh hand, peppering kisses on your face. "Alright..." He didn't sound too convinced, worried he hurt you, but decided to focus on cleaning you up and caring for you.

He grabbed the pack of baby wipes from the table next to the chair you two are on, taking one out, gently wiping your flushed face clean of the saliva, sweat, cum, and tears. He then opened a bottle of water, gently holding it to your lips. "Have some water, baby." He murmurs as he helps you take small sips, putting it down after about ¼ of the bottle is gone.

"There you go, Kätzchen...You did so good, I'm so damn proud of you, love." Bucky praised softly, pulling you closer to his chest and rocking side to side gently.

"Th-Thank you..." You murmur quietly, your voice still a little raspy, as you tuck your head in Bucky's neck, your sweat covered bodies moulding together, as Bucky's flesh hand slowly creeps down to your sex. "Time for your reward."

463 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Text

Resignation

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well. Word Count: Almost 4.4k Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.

All thanks to Andy.

Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.

“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.

She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”

You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”

“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”

You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.

Did he feel the same way?

Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”

“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”

Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”

“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”

He had to know that.

Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”

You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”

A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”

Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”

“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”

It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?

Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.

“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.

He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.

“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”

You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.

“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”

“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.

He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.

Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.

“You’re staring,” he stated.

You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”

That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?

Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.

Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.

But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.

“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”

Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.

“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”

You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.

“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”

You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.

“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”

You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”

You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.

Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”

“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.

You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”

Preparation never hurt anyone.

“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.

For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.

Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.

“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”

“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”

You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”

“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.

You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?

“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.

But first things first.

The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.

“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”

Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.

The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”

“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”

“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.

Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.

“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.

“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”

“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”

“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”

Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.

Now you have to help yourself.

“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”

Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”

“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”

You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”

“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”

Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.

He wouldn’t witness your tears.

You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”

He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”

“Is everything okay?”

Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.

Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”

“There is no issue,” you corrected him.

“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”

The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.

Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.

Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?

“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”

Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”

“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.

With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”

“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.

“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”

It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.

Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.

“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”

“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.

Uh-oh.

“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.

You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.

“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”

“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”

“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.

“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”

Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.

Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”

“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.

“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.

“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.

You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.

“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”

“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”

Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.

You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.

He needed someone strong by his side.

“Thank you, Andy.”

“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”

Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?

You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”

It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?

“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.

“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.

“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”

We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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cumikering · 7 months ago

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Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1) (part 8/end)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year ago

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Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you.

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him.

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him.

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more?

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude.

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl.

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact.

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms.

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it.

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself.

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy.

Things were fine like that for a little over a year.

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you?

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you.

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you.

You were incoherent and not far from feral.

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned.

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life.

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels.

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself.

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you.

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind.

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist.

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough.

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind.

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms.

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it.

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony.

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this?

This was a new hell you would have to endure.

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially.

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared.

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured.

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other.

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed.

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #tw: dubcon #sex pollen #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #hotbuckysummer2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #x reader smut #aspen wrote something #female reader #desperate verse

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therealsaintscully · 2 months ago

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Paul's body language listening to Beautiful Boy and what I think is Paul's greatest tragedy

I had to capture Paul's body language while listening to Beautiful Boy as one of his choices on Desert Island Discs in 1982. He says the song is 'very moving' for him—you can listen to the whole thing here and watch the actual video captured in these gifs here.

Desert Island Discs is a radio programme, so I wonder if Paul wasn’t expecting cameras, or perhaps he knew there would be one but wasn’t prepared for his own emotional response once the song started playing. His body language is incredibly poignant to watch, and while I'm no expert, this feels like the rawest I've ever seen him captured on film, even more so than the most difficult parts of Get Back/Let It Be.

It starts when the songs starts playing: his eyes are everywhere, and he puffs his cheeks and bites his lips. He clearly knows the lyrics, you can tell througout this video that he does, but he keeps himself from singing along out loud.

Then, when John sings, “And your daddy’s here,” he puffs his cheeks again and fully turns his back to the camera to collect himself, flicking his hair, and starts rocking back and forth.

His eye are EVERYWHERE at that point, with some more hair flicks. Also, you can't hear in the gif, but there's a second or two of him tapping along with his hands on a table or his thighs, perhaps in discomfort or a nervious tick, and then he stops.

And just when you think he’s composed himself, he turns his back to the camera again and stays like that for a good while. To clarify, the show’s host is sitting right next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder and elbow-to-elbow on Paul’s right, but Paul is clearly avoiding eye contact and communication altogether.

This continues for several more seconds until John sings, “It’s getting better and better.” That's a hint to Paul's own line from Sgt. Pepper, I think we can all agree to that. Then, the camera operator—perhaps taking pity or simply doing their job well—pans the camera and focuses on something even more telling; after tapping along and swiveling, he's now hugging himself.

And that's when the camera cuts, thankfully. I can imagine this is exactly how he must have spent hours in the early eighties, listening to Double Fantasy and the Real Love/Free as a Bird/Now and Then demos and taking it all in.

And herein lies what I think is Paul's greatest tragedy: if, as he's claimed for decades, they were never knowingly or consciously romantically or physically involved while John was alive, I wonder if the understanding of what they actually had crept up on him after John's death, especially in moments like these. It could be argued that it's reflected in songs and lyrics throughout his solo career—a progression of moments, memories, and conversations, all deciphered and processed in a new light.

How heartbreaking.

#my gifs #paul mccartney #john lennon #1982 #beautiful boy #body language #the beatles #beatles #mclennon #rpf

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chxrryhansen · 9 months ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List

here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚

Clockwork - @sgt-seabass

When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)

The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.

For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll

In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Guiding Light - @wkemeup

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

The Witness - @wkemeup

Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

Just Try - @waiting4inspiration

Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.

Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration

Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Red Ties - @sebstan2020

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Delicate Edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie

After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

Appointments - @noctumbra

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.

Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark

Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.

Its A Deal - @justreadingfics

You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.

The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

Snow - @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark

After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?

Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine

every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)

Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs

you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)

Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13

The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.

Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513

Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught. Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes. Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)

#chxrrys fic recs #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic recs #fic recs #sebastian stan x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago

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yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost

— His Prey

Pairing: yandere childhood friend Simon x gn reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight spoilers for the comics; if you haven’t read it yet, I’d highly recommend reading it - stalking, implied family abuse, kidnapping(?), mentions of alcohol, hinting that the reader is slightly older, and smut.

Smut tags: dubcon, public sex(?), size kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it!!), messy aftercare(?), and kidnapping?

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. This took so long and this is probably my favorite one. But I may take a break from smut, idk 🤷‍♂️

GIF IS NOT MINE || BELONGS TO @/sgt-gaz

You had been missing for years. Decades that seemed to last for millions for Ghost. As a kid, he’d imagine marriage and having kids - something that every kid admires at least once.

It’s true, he did love you, you always took care of him and helped clean him up after every time he had himself a fuck up. Be it romance problems, money problems, or even family problems. You always struck out your head for him. So, why wouldn’t he look for you?

Your family gave up on you, for reasons that are now beyond him. For reasons that disgusted and angered him.

On his fair share, he could understand what you had gone through. His family was also a mess, specifically his father - always screaming at anyone, especially at you whenever you came to visit. It was a mess. Just like he was and still is.

But, when he got the news that you ran away; your loyal image distorted and tainted by your family’s grief and anger.

He was angry. He remembers jumping over fences, ignoring the pouring rain, and running to your home - not believing the words of his father, but when he knocked frantically, your drunken father answering with slurring words and the smell of cigarettes strong, he knew you had left.

Asking where you had gone, all your father did was shrug his shoulders. Talking down to you as a ‘pent-up bitch who deserved to leave’.

Those few nights in jail weren’t fun. He can still feel the blood on his knuckles. The bruises cracked his skin and made them bleed. To Simon, he was a lucky bastard to even still breathe.

It hurts to be left behind, but Simon soon understood. For your own safety and happiness, you had to escape. He knew in his heart and soul that he’d find you again sooner or later.

And when he did, he’d feel your hands hug him tightly. Hear that pretty voice of yours that was addicting to listen to, even if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Those times in your garage, listening to heavy rock and dancing to the embarrassing beats as you pulled him into a messy kiss.

Those memories were precious to him.

You two went your own ways. But now… he grasps the nice times he had with you. Comforting and safe times with you. The ones where he could run to your home - knocking on your window at midnight, covered in sweat from how fast he ran. Your embrace was the best for him.

Tightening his hold on the film in his hands, the one where you two are hugging from his graduation, days before you had left. He sighed; inhaling through his tight teeth, he jumped out of his truck and started walking towards the diner he knew so much about.

You are his mission, for now, and until he dies.

Ghost had gathered enough information about your cold trail to find you. Found a friendly woman on the way, one that was quite nice and oblivious to the dangers - a nice and gentle lady who had offered to give him the location where she had last seen you a few weeks ago.

A sad but comforting word of, love goes a long way. I hope you find them.

Thudding his worn boots against the pavement, he admired the morbidly dead-beat town; a few people passing by him, eyes staring at him as if he was an alien. But, what was weirder was that no kids were running around - no music or loud beeping of cars could be heard.

Only the occasional noises of crickets and wind blowing against the covering of his hoodie. It was uncomfortable.

Approaching the recognizable diner, the lights were flickering. The run-down neon lights of spotted letters buzzed ever so slightly, the humming could be easily mistaken as a wasp nest. The letters were barely hanging on, only having support from the strings above the window; swinging left to right as if it was a lullaby.

The D and R had shut down completely, making the rest of entire letters seem bigger, a series of flickering flashes that made it as though threatening.

But threatening didn‘t scare him. Not anymore at least. It was something he was used to it.

Coming inside, the loud but nostalgic ding! Was nice to hear. His eyes follow the insides of the booth, looking at the familiar retro commercials playing on the TVs and people munching on the greasy food, chugging cheap beer down their throats, and jazzed music playing in the background.

The heavy smell of oily french fries and vanilla milkshakes burned into his nose. A familiar chase of reminiscent, made him shut his eyes as he sighed, stupidly.

What if you weren’t here? What if… all of this was a dream and he was still a beat-up kid? It was something he didn’t wanna think about, but with everything that’s happened - his family, his home, his mind a fucked up place; everything was possible.

Taking a deep but swift sigh, he reopened them, revealing a familiar face on the opposite side of the counter. It didn’t even take a second for him to know who it was.

It’s you. Look at you…

Walking about, doing your job as you unknowingly noticed the man in a giant hoodie. He watched you walk from table to table - seeing your little notepad and the recognizable clicky pen you’ve somehow kept. The black and orange lines on it have yet faded. Didn’t he give you that in high school?

You’ve… grown. Still cute as a darlin’. Addicting as ever.

He saw you smile at your coworker - their voice going into the abyss of his mind. Your smile is so pretty. It still is. Your laugh too. It was way too genuine for this crappy and unsafe place; a place you shouldn’t even call home.

It gave him the chills. The way your voice was nothing but a gift. Such a gentle smile and laugh. Just like in the old times.

The memories hit him like a train. The photos and slow moments of spending most of the summer with you, running away from old men who were yelling at you for stealing candies at 7/11 - you were facetious and flirty, somehow always grabbing his hands, pulling him along to your mischievous plans. Then, it was fun.

After all, in his mind, you were still the gorgeous partner he so loved. A love grew into need. A need that turned into years of searching and trying to find you again.

But looking at you now, Ghost betted a few hundred bucks - that you’d look really nice with his tattooed arm around your throat - those lips promising to be good and treat him well.

You always tasted amazing. Even whilst sweating or crying.

Tonight, you were exactly what he was looking for: his soulmate. Sure, he didn’t believe in that kind of stuff, but he knew you were meant for him. You were everything he could ask for.

Besides, with that adorable smile of yours, you were practically begging to be manhandled and thrust up against the brick walls behind the diner. For now, all he had to do was wait till you were off. And again, you were his mission after all. And he takes them very seriously.

“Night, Rebecca!” You yelled, shutting the door behind you as you started walking towards your apartment. Pulling your jacket more into your figure, you cursed out loud. Jeez, did today have to be more exhausting?

Maybe I could stop at the wine shop. It is Friday after all, you thought. As you continued to walk down the similar path to your apartment, you never noticed the large figure following right behind you.

Though, you were always a bit naïve. Somethin’ that drew Simon in like a rope around a horse.

Suddenly, whilst you were walking, your phone slipped out of your pocket. The brutal hit of your phone screen smacking onto the concrete made you cringe. Your heart banged out of your chest as you immediately let out a wild yelp.

“Shit!” You blurted out, crouching down to pick it up. Though, as you went down, there was a rush of wind and suddenly you were hoisted by hands grabbing you by the waist. You screamed, trying to kick and hit whatever was behind you, whilst trying your best to ignore the anxiety spiraling in your chest and down your body.

The back of your head smacked against the stone of the wall. But before you could react, a hand was placed over your mouth as the stench of incense and light booze crawled into your nostrils; letting you take in the large yet dark figure in front of you which was leveled with the sight of a black hoodie and muscular arms.

“Shh,” a gritty voice growled in your ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

Is this where you’re gonna die? Where the Fox News makes a case for your murder in cold blood?

It was then that you noticed the nature of the voice, the familiar smell of comfort waving in. Home. It smelled like home.

Preparing yourself, you peeked up at the tall and masked man, barely reassuring yourself as the adrenaline of fright from being thrown into a dark alleyway and being held against the bricked wall was starting to sit in.

Though connecting eyes with the man, you released a gasp. Looking into those recognizable brown eyes you could remember anywhere.

“Simon?”

It’s his eyes. Black holes. No stars. The face paint around his eyes burned into them like ash.

He could feel his heartbeat in his hands, a sudden reminder of his given name, sitting nearly forgotten at his hidden identity; whipped away with ‘Ghost’ and ‘The most Brutal Soldier’.

Simon was no longer Simon. He was Ghost. A hulking behemoth of a man. Nothing but pumped full of adrenaline, a dexterity for killing. A cover-up from his messed up, a shit show of the past.

“Holy shit…”

Your gaze made his heart ache. Watching how tears swelled up into them, how blown wide they were. All he wanted was to wipe those away and kiss them better. Comfort you the times you did to him when he’d come to you crying - feeling your small hands wrap around him and kiss his neck affectionately.

“I thought… your family and you–”

Your hands were shaking - fists clenching and unclenching as his hoodie near his chest. Your voice was shaking, almost like a doe-eyed deer trying to escape its predator; thriving at its very last breath as it tried to talk. But, nothing was coming out. All that was heard were hiccups and the slight pounder of cars driving by.

You sniffled, eyes flashing. The sweet look of concern on your adorable face.

His hand went down, pulling away at his gloves before wiping your tears as more came down. Your hands, always delicate and soft, ascended to hover above his face, barely touching his skulled balaclava. He could feel his throat tighten - like a noose was secured around it. Threatening to yang the weapon if he dared to speak.

“Can… I pull it down?”

You expected a harsh no. A quiet negative answer. You could tell he was wearing it for a reason. Hiding something that he didn’t want you or anyone else to see. It squeezed your heart - uncertainty piling into your stomach.

Though, when his fingers curled around the bottom of the balaclava - pulling up and off the mask, your throat went dry.

So much has changed since you were kids, the Simon you once knew: the soft chubbed cheek and rounded smile was now scarred. Everything on his face was bumped, unmetrical. Dry and harsh. Something you’d never expect from your Simon.

“H-how…” You asked, reaching him to touch his warm cheek - your fingers grazing over his littered cheek of scars. He almost didn’t look like the Simon you knew years ago. His eyes and hair stayed the same. But the rest of him didn’t. The tattoos, his demeanor, the scars, the littered marks all over his body and hands that were once soft and hot to touch. Instead of being the scrawny kid he once was, he was now… big and intimidating.

“I know. Not the proudest moment to introduce again,” He chuckled, his giant hands grabbing yours and tightening his hold. He pulled them up to his lips, taking a moment to look into your eyes before kissing your knuckles.

“I won’t let anything hurt ya’ anymore, okay?” He stated, his hand letting go of yours and wrapping them around the curves of your hips, pulling you closer towards him as he pushed his face into your hair, inhaling a sharp sigh.

“Simon. How did you…?” You ushered out, laying your forehead on his chest as you waited for his answer. Simon — took an agonizingly long minute to reply, his hands tightening around your hips as you wrapped your arms around his lower back, feeling more tears rolling down your face.

“It’s a long story, doll.” He stated, digging his face deeper into your hair as you felt your stomach twist and turn into butterflies.

You detach yourself from his chest, looking up at him as your lips quivered. “I- don’t understand Simon. How are you…?”

“How what, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, his hand going up to your chin, quickly wiping the tears that fell as he patiently waited for your answer.

“Your father- he…”

Suddenly, Simon growled out. His grip on your hips tightened, making you grimace loudly. “Don’t. He doesn’t matter. What… happened years ago doesn’t matter right now.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shh- it’s fine. Jus’... You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He danced his fingers up your chest, making their way to your sternum. Slowly he unbuttoned your shirt, making sure to take his time as his lips attached to your neck, leaving a few marks that he intends to stay.

“S-imon,” Your words were a little above a whisper, peppered with high-pitched gasps that seemed to be enjoyed by the man in front of you; his lips kissing your ear, jaw, and neck. Slowly making his way down to your stomach.

“I know. Me too,” He chuckled, fully unbuttoning your shirt, and pulling it off as it fell onto the floor. “Been waitin’ the right time, for you to become mine again. I promise I won’t be too mean.”

A whine blanked your mind, feeling his hands knead at your soft skin, cupping your arse under his fingers as he dropped your pants onto the floor. “Fuck, n-not here please.” Though, Simon’s answer was a harsh one as you felt something hard poking you on your thigh.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fast then we can leave, yah’?” His chest touched yours, and with his strong hands, he gripped your thighs and hiked you up onto his hips, knocking your knees together which prompted you to wrap and tighten your legs around his waist.

Your hands fisted his hoodie on his shoulder, “What are you—!”

A moan was let out as you felt his fingers dip beneath your briefs, teasing your core as you cried out; feeling him hit that spot that made your knees go weak. “Oh gosh-” you gasped.

Simon drew his face closer to yours and kissed you. The taste of alcohol and tangy smoke blended in with your breath as he kissed you so sweet that you never wanted it to end - your moan being muffled as his tongue explored your cave.

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you two hungrily fought for a truce; fighting the urge to smile as he groaned from your sly fingers.

Finally, you two separated for air - heaving deeply as you two looked into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, you felt his fingers push up inside you in a twirling motion. You groaned and writhed beneath him, and as you did, your thigh pushed against his groin.

His harsh breath that blew onto you had goosebumps rise across your skin.

“I need you.” he rasped.

You reached your hand down to slide your hand inside his pants to grip his erect cock. You swallow the words that wanted to come out, feeling how your fingers barely touch around the width of him. Jesus, how could anyone have this size?

You rub your thumb over the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum and when your nails grazed his sensitive head, he shivered. By the time you had removed your fingers, bringing them up to your lips, his hands were already finishing unbuttoning his belt and undoing his zipper; freeing his cock.

He was thick, with a bulbous base. He had building veins. Some on the underlining of his cock, outlining the leaking pre-come, rolling down the length of his cock. He also had a happy trail, a sagittal one that was very attractive.

You ached to feel him inside you, but when you reached down, he shook his head. “Let me taste ya’ first.”

Taking a minute, you nodded, and he took your hips in both of his giant hands; adjusting your position up onto his shoulders, letting your legs hang off them. He then lowered his mouth to your body, kissing and nipping down to your V-line, then worked his tongue and teeth to pull down your undergarment as he came to the sensitive skin where your thigh met your pelvis.

He kissed you there sweetly, breathing in your tainted-sweat skin and scent. Infuriatingly ignoring where you wanted to be touched most.

He groans out your name. Spilling it out like a love spell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to work his tongue over and around you. Circling, sucking, caressing. Taking in your taste like a wolf with its mate.

At first, Simon only kept his left hand on your thigh, watching you unravel from his mouth — bucking upwards into his mouth, seeing you moan out as he growled against you, sending vibrations to your core. His nails dug deeply into your thighs, adding a counterpoint to the intense sensations of his tongue and lips as he made sure you whined out.

It took you a pretty short time before he brought you breathless, pushing you over to the edge with his tongue and hands. The rough fingers of his, the depth of penetration of his tongue, and the wet noises made you go boneless.

Yet, he still didn’t move the heat of his mouth from your hole while you came, admiring how your body clung to the concrete wall and his head for support as your shouts echoed throughout the alleyway. He cleaned you more with his tongue — relishing the taste of you.

“Fucking hell.” he grunts.

He departed himself from the mess he had caused - giving you a quick peck before he hiked you back onto his hips, moving your legs around his lower back as he lowered his slick cock between your parted legs, breathing hard.

“I need you, darlin’,” He growled in your ear.

You panted, nodding slowly as your vision was barely picking up - already overstimulated from how long it has been since anyone else has made you cum quite violently.

His breath was hot. Breathing directly down to your collarbone as he nudged the hot tip of his cock against your entrance. He’s too big, his blunt head snags against your entrance. You breathe through your nose, brow furrowing as you tighten your eyes closed.

“Jesus Christ,” He hissed as he bucks, clearly impatient, needing more as he feels the clutch of your sex.

“Easy.. please,” You try, feeling him draw your forehead against his, the sweaty skin rubbing against each other as you two share the love you two once shared - an act of surface, awaiting till it boils over.

“Fuck,” he mutters in your ear.

You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. He’s so big and you’re so full, packed to the very brim as his cock drags against your sensitive walls; you feel his nose press into your cheek, his mouth sliding against your jaw as he grinds into you.

“Ss’good,” he utters quietly, “Fuck, I love ya’ so much.”

You cried out in pleasure - clenching down at his shoulders as you bit your finger. His hips and cock punching against the furthest part of your core. He releases a deep groan of pleasure at your sheer tightness.

“More!” You rasped out, grabbing his cheek and kissing him. He parted his lips and let your tongue taste his mouth. You tasted yourself - but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was Simon. Your Simon.

He plants his feet deeper into the concrete, beginning to really fuck you. Positioning his hips and slamming up inside you until the sound of only your soaked hole swallowing him repeatedly along with slapping skin bouncing off the walls.

It’s overwhelming. The heavy smell of rain. The smell of sex and the sounds of raspy groans. Squelchy noises of your hole being brutally hit as your thighs are turning raw. It’s rasp and chafe. But you were enjoying it. Enjoying every bit of it.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hushed out, his hips snapping more. “Feels so good.”

He began to move deeper, harder, sharper. You clutched at his giant arms, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips cracked more. You felt his muscles tighten, a slight warning of him crashing down to his peak.

Your toes curled. Entwining up with the sensations spreading all over your body, pounding at your sensitive ears. You could hear everything. Feel everything. Taste everything.

He’s reclaiming you. His hips fully abusing your hips and thighs. His groans and tightened jaw were a sight to see. His eyes shut closed as his body tightened up.

“Come for me.” he says, “I know you need to, love.”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Yet another pleasure crash came over you, consuming you again, and at that, with a bellow that shook to your very core, your orgasm took you by surprise with a scream.

His voice lowers down. His hips sped up even more as your toes curled and head rolled back - eyes seeing white. Your nails dug into his back.

You felt Simon stiffen. The warmth of his spent filling you. His hips spasmed and jerked, his jaw clenching with a long groan, his eyes screwed shut as you felt hot liquid rush inside you, stuffing you full. Even as he pressed his hips tightly against yours, still grinding at the pleasure, you were a moaning mess.

When he finished, he let out a soft sigh. Still sitting inside you, he prepped kisses all over your neck, sliding his tongue with your sweaty skin and dug his nose into it. You felt him mumble some words, but you paid no attention.

Slowly pulling back, making sure to not overwhelm you, he let you back on the ground. Simon had his hands on your waist, ensuring you were still there - almost as if he loosened his grip, even by a grain of salt, you’d disappear.

“That was…” You went to say something, but with dopamine and adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your brain was left blank - possibly melting.

Simon chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead before looking you directly in the eye. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Jus’ tired and cold.”

He nodded, adjusting his pants and getting dressed. Belting his pants back up before crouching down to grab your clothes that were thrown on the floor. Standing back up, he handed them to you.

“You should get dressed,” He said.

“Not in the mood to stain my clothes,” You laughed, running your fingertips over your collarbone that was stained with sweat. Simon looked down between your legs, before looking behind you as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“You need to get dressed.” He grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it off of him as he prompted you to raise your arms. Nonetheless, Simon’s smell gave you an undying amount of comfort. Shoving your arms through the sleeves, he helped you get your head through the top hole before adjusting the bottom of the fabric, making sure it covered you whole.

And that it did. You marvel at how large the damn hoodie is, your fingertips barely peeking at the ends of the sleeves and the end of the hoodie covering most of your thighs. It was astonishing.

“Hey, where’s my—!” Before you could finish the question about your phone, you yelped - feeling yourself get picked off the ground. You were picked up by Ghost, being rested in his arms as he held you with such care. Making sure you were comfortable before resting your head on his chest.

You could feel his heart thumping - picking a beat at the sound of drums. Like tapping your fingers at your desk as you studied a book scenario. It was comforting.

“Why– where are we going?” You asked, looking up at him with a face of confusion as he adjusted his mask; his eyes peering down at you from the balaclava.

“M’ taking you home.” He stated, his hands curling more around your body.

You blinked at him, surprised.

“Home? You don’t even know where my apartment is. How would you—?”

“—You’re gonna stay with me,” he clarifies, ducking his head as the both of you started walking away from the alleyway. Slight embarrassment rises in your cheeks as you realized you just fucked in an alleyway. Not the first time with him.

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, you replied with a quick answer, “That’s not what I meant. Where are we going?”

There was only silence after that, and you had worried that maybe you pushed too far. Possibly angered him. After calling his name twice and no answer coming forward, you decided to quit asking.

You slid your arms around his neck, paying no attention to your surroundings. Unintentionally, you dug your face into his shoulder, taking a deep inhale before you listened to the wind; admiring how quiet it was.

Surely, you could see a smug smirk trail against Simon’s face - but you paid no attention. You were tired. Exhausted at best.

Suddenly, you heard a car; a truck gets unlocked from behind you. You were prompted to look, but when you got sight of the black Chevy truck, suddenly the door being opened by Simon and you being placed in the passenger seat beside the driver, you slumped into the seat.

You waited for him to climb in. Hearing the backdoor to your left open and shut loudly before you heard him get in. He shuffled in his seat, reaching over to buckle in his seatbelt before looking in your direction.

“Here.”

You looked at his hand, a huge white wool blanket being handed to you. You grabbed it, the fabric practically melting into your fingers. It was so soft. And smelled like him too.

You heard Simon chuckle at your reaction before starting up the truck, turning down the radio to ensure you were comfortable. He put on the heaters - readjusting the way of direction to blow so it could puff directly at you.

“Tomorrow, we’ll stop and get your stuff. From now on, you’ll stay with me.”

You nodded. Not saying anything. But when you tucked into the blanket around your form, making sure it covered your shoulders and legs, you felt his hand move over, gripping your thigh as he squeezed three times; his way of saying, ‘I love you’.

It made you smile. Turning your sight over to look into the side mirror, you watched as your town got further away. The lights turned into small gusts of balls as you watched the road become thinner and thinner. Before turning into nothing but a small pan of memories.

You lay there a long time, just listening to the sound of the music and the occasional blinking of the car to signal changing lanes. It was until you found yourself slipping into sleep right after a few minutes. Turned out you’d missed the contact as much as he had. It was probably for the best, that you stayed with him for a while.

Not that he’d let you go.

—

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