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harknessxo · 1 month ago

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Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha finally has you to herself but things get a little bit complicated.

Warnings; kidnapping, knife kink, blood kink, mommy kink, dub-con, fingering, strap on use, bondage, choking, Stockholm Syndrome.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 3

A/n: Here’s part 2!!

After many hours you finally started to stir awake. When you opened your eyes a sudden rush of pain striked through your head. You held your head, closing your eyes again trying to lessen the pain. Once the pain had calmed down you opened your eyes again and found yourself on a bed that wasn’t yours. You frowned, confused on where you were and right then the memories of the night before came back to you.

You slowly sat up in bed, your head still throbbing from the pain. You looked around the room, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It was a dimly lit room with a few pieces of furniture scattered about. You were alone, but you knew that Agatha was somewhere nearby. You got out of bed, your legs feeling weak and unsteady. You tried to remember what had happened, but the memories were hazy. As you tried to walk closer to a window to look outside, you felt a cold piece of metal wrapped around your ankle. You looked down to find a shackle on your ankle, making your heart drop.

“I know. It isn’t exactly what I wanted but I couldn’t have you running away from me,” a voice said from behind you. You slowly turned to find Agatha leaning against the room door.

“What- Where am i?” Your voice trembled.

“You’re home. And don’t worry, no one can hear you here. I made sure of it,” she said, taking a step closer to you.

“The police will be looking for me as well as you,” you stepped back and far as the shackle allowed you.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m always three steps ahead of them. No one will find you here. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to take you away from me. You’re mine now.” She said, her voice firm and possessive. She took another step closer to you, closing the distance between you two, making you flinch.

“Why…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Why did you kill Wanda?”

“Because she was trying to steal you from me,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “She was so goddamn clingy to you, acting like you belonged to her. It drove me crazy and the thought of her having you for herself was something I just couldn’t allow.”

“She was my best friend!” You shoved her off out of anger, tears running down your face. She stumbled back slightly, a look of surprise crossing her face before her expression turned to anger.

“She wasn’t good enough for you! No one is good enough for you! Only I am good enough to have you!” She raised her hand and grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to look at her.

“Ah!” you groaned, her grip on your chin painful.

“You need to understand, sweetheart. You belong to me and only me. I’ll carve my name on your chest with the knife I used to kill Wanda if necessary. I won’t let anyone take you away from me, not even your precious little ‘best friend’. I did what I had to do to keep you safe and with me.” She said, her voice low and menacing.

“You’re fucking insane!”

“I’m not insane, I’m just a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. And what I want is you. So you better get used to being mine, because you’re not going anywhere.” She said, her grip on your chin tightening even more.

“You’re hurting me!” you gripped onto her wrist. She let go of your chin and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“And you’re being a bad girl. I told you to behave.” She said, her eyes narrowing at you.

“Why did you kill all those women?” You suddenly asked.

“I killed them because they looked like someone who did me wrong in the past. I knew it was wrong to kill all those women but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed someone to take my anger out on. You were actually going to be one of my many victims,” she leaned closer, her breath warm against your skin, “But I didn’t expect to actually develop a real fascination with you.”

“Are you gonna kill me now?”

“I was but I couldn’t just kill you. You’re special. You’re different from the others.” She said, her voice softening slightly as she looked at you. You let her press her cold lips against your neck as you tried to process everything. She kissed and nibbled on your neck, her lips trailing up to your ear.

“You're finally mine. You could be my wife.” She whispered, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Your wife?” You mumbled.

“Yes, my wife. I want you to be mine in every way possible. I want to claim you as mine and only mine. I want to make you mine in every way a man and a woman can.” She said, her voice low and possessive. She pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“Agatha?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” She said, her voice soft as she looked at you with an intense gaze.

“Please let me go-”

She shook her head in disappointment, roughly letting go of your wrist and stepping away from you in frustration. You began to sob, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your legs. She let out a deep sigh and knelt down in front of you, her expression now softer.

“You’re so pretty when you cry,” she moved her hand closer to your face. You closed your eyes tightly as she moved her hand to wipe a tear away.

“Agatha, I’m scared.”

“I know you are, sweet girl. But you don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She said, her voice gentle as she cupped your face in her hands and gently wiped away your tears.

“Please I won’t tell anyone-” she laughed at your empty promise.

“Now we both know that’s not true. It hurts that you would lie to me. You’re a smart girl, you’ll tell the police and they’ll come after me. And I can’t have that.” She said, her tone becoming serious again.

“You can’t keep me here forever!”

“Oh, but I can. And I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here with me. Even if it means keeping you locked up forever until you learn to love me.”

“Love you?” you stood up, “You killed my best friend! I hate you!” Without thinking, you took the closest thing to you and threw it at her. The object hit her square in the chest, knocking her back slightly. She stumbled backwards with a masochistic look on her face.

Your eyes widen when you realize what you did. You were about to apologize but she tackled you on the bed, holding you down, making you scream bloody murder. She straddled your hips and grabbed your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and pulled her pocket knife, pressing it against your throat. She looked down at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Now, now. Is that any way to treat me? That wasn’t very nice…”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” you stuttered out, scared of what she would do next with the knife in her hands. She leaned down and pressed her body against yours, her breath hot against your ear.

“That’s a good girl. You need to learn some manners. No throwing things at me or trying to attack me. Understand?”

“I…I understand.” She smirked and nipped at your earlobe, her grip on your wrists loosening slightly. She trailed the tip of the knife down your throat to your collarbone.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, not knowing if you actually wanted the answer. She chuckled and ran the knife down to your chest, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, I have so many things in mind, darling. I could hurt you. I could punish you. I could make you mine in ways you never thought possible.”

“You s-said you wouldn’t hurt me-”

“I changed my mind.” You inhaled, holding your breath as she ripped through your shirt with the knife, clenching your eyes tightly. She cut through your shirt, revealing your bare chest. She traced the knife along your skin, admiring your body.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to mark you as mine.” She pressed the cold metal tip against your nipples, making you whimper. She smirked and watched your reaction with intense fascination. She ran the blade gently over your nipples, enjoying the way they hardened under her touch.

“Does that feel good, darling? The cold metal against your sensitive skin?” You didn’t respond, too focused on your breathing, fearing any movement would cause her to nick you. She chuckled in amusement and leaned down, her breath hot against your skin. She gently nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing your skin.

“You’re being so quiet. I like it when you make noise. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“I…” You felt breathless. She pulled back and looked at you with a smirk, the knife still pressed against your skin.

“Go on, say it. Say my name.”

“No.” You refused. Her expression darkened and she pressed the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a little bit of blood.

“You’re so bratty. Say it. Now.” She demanded.

“Ah! Agatha!” You cried out in pain. She smiled at your agony, satisfied with your response.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She leaned down and licked the blood from your skin, her tongue tracing the cut.

“It hurts-” You moaned in pain as she licked over the cut. She smirked at your moan, enjoying the sound of your pain. She continued to lick and kiss the cut, her tongue moving up to your neck.

“You taste so good, darling. I could get addicted to this.” She looked at you, wiping some blood from her lip with her thumb.

“Please…” You begged, not knowing what for. Her gaze darkened again as she looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“I love to hear you beg,” she pressed the bloody tip of the knife on your collarbone, “Say it again.”

“Please, Agatha.” Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she continued to trace the knife down your chest, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“That’s better. You’re learning. But I want more. I want you to beg for me to touch you. Beg for me to make you feel good.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears running down your cheeks. You didn’t want to please her but deep down you actually did. During the time you spent together you had managed to feel something for her.

“Please touch me, Agatha.”

“As you wish,” she licked your tears before kissing down your body, putting the knife next to you on the bed. Her grip on your wrist had loosened and you took the opportunity to free yourself and take the knife. You pushed her off and stood up, shakily pointing the knife at her while covering your breast with your other arm.

Agatha stumbled backwards, a bit surprised by your sudden action. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, but her expression was of amusement.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s being feisty now.”

“Let me go.” You said trying to sound confident. She chuckled at your failed attempt and took a step closer to you, unfazed by the knife pointed at her.

“You’re so cute when you try to be tough. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t take a step closer!” You wielded the knife at her. She raised an eyebrow, amused by your warning. She took another step closer, her eyes locked on yours.

“Or what? You’re going to stab me?” she laughed, “Just give me the knife before you hurt yourself badly.”

“No-�� You were cut off by her taking the knife from your hand, bending your arm behind your back and bending you over the edge of the bed.

“Now, now. I thought we had an understanding. You were doing so good…” she fake pouted, taking off her belt and tying both your arms behind your back.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” You sobbed. She chuckled, making sure your wrists were tightly secured.

“Oh, I won’t hurt you. At least not in the way you think. But you need to learn to behave, hon. And I think I know just how to teach you.” She started pulling your pants down.

“No!” you squirmed against her, “Please!” She held you down firmly, not letting you move.

“Shh, just stay still for me.” She finished pulling down your pants and ran her hand over your exposed skin. Her hands against your skin made your body tremble. She smiled as she felt you tremble beneath her touch. She ran her hands up and down your thighs, her touch light and teasing.

“You’re so sensitive, angel. I can feel you trembling under my hands. Do you like it when I touch you like this?” She whispered into your ear, her body flushed against yours.

“N-no-”

“Liar,” she chuckled, slowly trailing the knife from your waist to the band of your panties, “Your body betrays you, my dear. I can see how much you’re enjoying this. The way your skin flushes, the way your breath hitches. You’re trying to deny it, but deep down you want this,” she snapped the string of your panties, making the fabric fall down your legs. Your breath hitched when the cold air hit your dripping core, making you shiver slightly. She smirked as she saw your reaction, noticing the wetness between your legs.

“Would you look at that. You’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even touched you properly yet.” She ran her finger along your folds, teasing you. You buried your face into the mattress, ashamed of how your body was betraying you. She chuckled and leaned down, her breath hot against your ear.

“Don’t hide your face, sweet girl. I want to see you. I want to see the look on your face as I touch you. You can’t hide how much you want this.” She continued to tease your folds, slowly circling your clit.

“Hmph…”

“Come on, baby. Don’t be so stubborn. Just admit that you want this. That you want me to make you feel good.” She increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

“I…I want you to make me feel good.” You finally gave in. She smiled, satisfied, finally winning your body over.

“That’s a good girl. I just want to make you feel good, angel,” She continued to rub your clit, her other hand gently caressing your thigh, “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you want me to touch you.”

“F-fuck Agatha!” She almost moaned when she heard you moan her name, her fingers moving faster inside you.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.” You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to even out your breathing. She felt your walls clenching around her fingers letting her know you were getting closer. She leaned down, her lips against your ear again

“Are you gonna cum, already?” She teased as you gasped for air, “Let go. I want to feel you come undone around my fingers,” she curled her fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot ever so perfectly. You came almost instantly, your juices gushing out into her fingers, your vision going white. She watched as you came, a satisfied smile on her face. She continued to pump her fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“There we go. Such a good girl,” she praised, slowly pulling her fingers out of you. You whined when she pulled her fingers out, suddenly feeling empty. She chuckled at your whine, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fill you up again soon. Now I’m going to untie you and you’re not going to do anything stupid, isn’t that right, sweet girl?” You nodded your head, too tried to say anything. She smiled and untied the belt that was holding you in place, letting it fall to the floor. She gently rubbed your wrists, massaging the red marks that the belt left behind.

“So obedient,” she pulled your head back by your hair, “How good was it?”

“So g-good-” you mumbled pathetically. She kissed your cheek and loosened her grip on your hair, letting you rest your head on the bed.

“I know, baby. You were so good for me. I’m going to give you a reward.” She took off the shackle around your ankle before flipping you into your back. You let her treat you like her doll as she positioned your body however she pleased. She smiled as she looked down at you, admiring your body. She spread your legs apart and knelt between them, her hands on your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, completely at my mercy,” her hands moved up to cup your breast, “I’m going to fill you up nice and full just you wait,” she started to get up, “Now stay still and look pretty.” She moved away from you and walked over to her dresser, opening the top drawer and rummaging through it. After a moment, she pulled out a strap-on.

“What’s that?” You asked, your vision a bit blurry. She held up the strap-on, biting her lip.

“It’s a little gift for you, angel. Something to fill you up and make you feel even better than my fingers did.” She slowly took off her clothes as if to give you a show. You could only stare, mesmerized by her beautiful toned body. She could see the look of awe on your face as you watched her undress, a shit eating grin still on her face. She strapped the strap-on around her hips and walked back over to the bed, standing over you.

“You like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…” you hummed and she leaned down, her face inches away from yours.

“You’re being awfully quiet. Where did that bratty mouth go?” You flushed, embarrassed.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I love it when you’re feisty. It’s so much more fun to break you.” She chuckled, her eyes roaming over your body. She picked up a fluffy pillow and placed it under your hips.

“Are you comfortable, sweet girl?”

“Yes.

“See?,” she said, positioning herself between your legs, “If you behave, mommy can be nice,” She ran her hand along the strap-on, coating it with your juices.

“Mommy? How did you-” She chuckled and placed her hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, baby, I know everything about you and you’re so perfect.” You tried to say something but she quickly shushed you.

“Shh, don’t you want mommy to fill you up?” She moved her hips forward, the strap-on pressing against your entrance. You were quickly to nod your head.

“That’s my girl,” she put your legs over her shoulders, “I want you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? I wanna see you fall apart.” You obeyed her order, keeping your eyes on her as she slipped the strap inside you. It felt like heaven as she entered into you, your mouth open with a silent moan. Agatha nearly came by the mere sight of your greedy cunt eating her strap.

She let out a low moan as she watched the strap disappear into you, the base pressing against her clit ever so perfectly.

“God, you’re so perfect. You’re taking me so well, baby girl.”

“Mommy!” You moaned out. She groaned at the sound of you calling her that, her grip on your thighs tightening.

“Say it again,” she said, slowly pulling the strap out and thrusting it back in.

“Mommy…” She started to pick up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with each thrust. She leaned forward, her body pressing against yours.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for mommy. You’re such a good little slut,” she wrapped her hand firmly around your neck making you feel like you were in cloud 9. The only sounds heard in the room were of your skin slapping and the wet noise your pussy was making. Agatha looked down at where your bodies connected and noticed the belly bulge that formed every time she thrust inside you. She let out a low moan at the sight of the bulge, her hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly.

“You feel that, angel?” she moved your hand down to your tummy, “That’s how deep in your guts mommy is.”

“M-mommy-” you whined.

“What is it baby?” she thrusted her hips roughly, “is it too much?”

“Yes- too- too much,” you gasped out, wrapping your hand around her wrist. Agatha smiled, not relenting on her brutal pace.

“Do you want me to stop?” She tightened her grip around your neck, squeezing harder. When you didn’t reply she laughed.

“You’re so greedy. You want mommy to keep using you like this, don’t you? You like when mommy is rough?”

“Please mommy?” You pleaded and she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Harder-” She chuckled darkly, her hips slamming into you harder than before.

“Is that better, angel?”

“Fuck- yes!”

“Such a dirty mouth,” she nipped at your earlobe, “Maybe I should punish you for that.”

“No, no, no- I'm sorry. Please don’t stop.” You begged desperately.

“I wasn’t going to stop anyway.” She chuckled darkly, keeping her torturous pace. Her other hand kept rubbing your clit and soon you came on her strap. She slowed her pace as you came, her hand still on your clit. She watched your face as you came undone, her own arousal growing.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let go for mommy.” Her thrust became sloppy and she chased her climax. She was getting close, her hips grinding against yours. She was so focused on her own pleasure that she didn’t care to notice how overstimulated you were. You squirmed and whine under her, your legs shaking from the overstimulation. She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding you down.

“Be still, baby. I’m almost there.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m gonna use you until I cum, and you’re going to take it.” She growled, her grip on your wrists tightening. The base of the strap kept rubbing against her clit until she finally came and in the process making you come a third time. She let out a loud moan as she came, her hips stilling against yours. She panted heavily, trying to catch her breath as she rode out her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. Did you come again, sweet girl?” She panted out.

“Yes, mommy…” you muttered out. She let go of your wrists and slowly pulled out of you, watching as her strap came out.

“Good girl,” she laid down beside you, her hand running through your hair, “You took me so well,” she patted your pussy, chuckling when you clenched your thighs together.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” her hand resting on your thigh.

“Mhm..” you buried your face into the valley of her neck. She chuckled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close.

“Poor baby, too sensitive to even speak.”

Suddenly there was a noise of someone bursting through the door of the house. Agatha was the first to get up.

“Mommy? What was that?” You asked a bit scared.

“They are here to take me, baby.” She explained while getting dressed.

“Take you? No! I don’t want them to take you!” You said desperately.

“I know, sweet girl,” she kissed your forehead while handing you a shirt, “Put this on for me.” Just as you finished putting the shirt on a S.W.A.T. team barged into the room, screaming at Agatha to show her hands and get on her knees.

“No!” You screamed, trying to get to her but one of the officers held you back, “Let me go! Aggie!”

“Shh,” she shushed you as they roughly put her in cuffs, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I don’t want you to go away!” You sobbed, punching the officer’s chest.

“Calm down.” The officer ordered as he tightened his grip on you, struggling to keep you from hitting him. You managed to free yourself from his hold and ran towards Agatha, clinging to her for dear life. She was moved away from you, and the cops held her back from you.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” She managed to say to you as she was being pulled away. You fell to your knees, crying as they took her away. She was forced out of the room, the last thing you saw of her was her being dragged away by the police.

The officers allowed you to get dressed before taking you to the station so they could ask you questions about Agatha. You sat in the interrogation room, waiting for someone to come in and ask you questions. The room was cold and uncomfortable, making you shiver. After about ten minutes the detective that had been on the case of the Angel of Death finally came into the room. Tyler Hayward. He sat down across from you, his gaze stern and cold.

“So you’re the latest victim of the Angel of Death.” He stated bluntly.

“I’m not her victim.” You said firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your statement.

“Oh really? Then why were you with her? Were you her accomplice?”

“No. Of course not-“ He cut you off as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“Then why were you there with her? What’s your relationship with her?”

“…she kidnapped me.”

“She kidnapped you? And you didn’t try to escape?”

“She did it to protect me-”

“Protect you? How exactly does kidnapping you protect you?” He scoffed, clearly not believing you.

“Because she loves me.”

“Love?” he laughed, “She’s a serial killer. How can you be so sure that she loves you? She killed your best friend-”

“She did it for me! For us!” She slammed your hands on the table. He looked at you, unfazed by your sudden outburst.

“Us? What do you mean ‘us’?”

“So me and her could live together in peace.” He shook his head.

“You’re delusional. You can’t honestly believe that a psychopath like her would want to live a peaceful life with you.” He shook his head.

“Don’t call her that.” You said angrily.

“And why is that? That’s exactly what she is. A cold-blooded killer who has no regard for human life.”

“Stop it!”

”You need to realize that you’re in denial. She doesn’t love you, she just wants to use you for her own sick pleasure.”

“You’re lying! She wouldn’t do that!” He slammed his hands on the table, causing you to flinch.

“Open your eyes! She’s manipulating you. She’s a master manipulator and you’re just another one of her victims.”

“Screw you, Hayward! I want to go home!”

“You can’t go home. You’re under police custody until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Then I want to see Agatha.”

“No can do. She’s not allowed to have visitors.”

“I won’t say another word.”

“Fine, have it your way,” he stood up and walked toward the door, “Your friend, Monica is here to see you.”

“Monica?” You asked with a hopeful voice. He nodded, opening the door and motioning for Monica to come in. She came in running towards you, giving you a big hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Y/n. I was so scared when I went to your house and didn’t find you there.”

“I’m okay, Monica.” you pulled away, smiling at her.

“Did she do something to you?” She sat down next to you, holding your hand.

“What?” you frowned, “No. She would never hurt me.” She looked at you with a worried expression.

“Y/n, she killed Wanda-“

“So what?” You stood up angrily. She looked taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“So what? She’s a killer, Y/n! She doesn’t deserve to live!”

“No! She loves me!” Monica stood up as well, her voice growing more desperate.

“You can’t seriously believe that! She’s just using you, can’t you see that? She doesn’t care about you, she only cares about herself!”

“What would she even use me for?!”

“I don’t know, maybe she wants you to help her kill more people or something. She’s a psychopath, Y/n. She doesn’t think like we do.”

“Don’t call her that!”

“Why do you keep defending her? Can’t you see that she’s dangerous?”

“Not to me.” You said simply.

“God, she has you brainwashed…” Monica shook her head.

“No she doesn’t!”

“Okay,” she said simply, “I have to go. I’ll see you when they finally let you go.” You frowned again at her sudden change of demeanor but nodded either way. Monica gave you one last hug before leaving the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Hayward was still watching you from the other side of the room, his expression unreadable.

They left you in the room for hours. You were starting to lose your mind, banging at the door begging for them to let you see Agatha.

“Please! I just want to see her one last time!” You cried out while dropping to your knees in front of the door, defeated. A few seconds later they finally opened the door and you scrambled to your feet.

“You get eight minutes with her.” Hayward said, irritated. He led you into another interrogation room where they were keeping Agatha. When they opened the door and you nearly tackled her to the floor with a hug. Hayward took the opportunity to leave the room, locking the door behind him. Agatha stumbled back slightly from the force of your hug but quickly wrapped her arms around you in return. She held you tightly, her grip almost desperate.

“Oh my sweet girl. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

“No, mommy, I’m okay. They are trying to make me hate you and I don’t like it.” She pulled away slightly to look at you, her expression a mixture of relief and anger.

“Those bastards. They’re trying to turn you against me. Don’t listen to them, baby. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“I don’t want them to take you away from me.” You sobbed as she held you tighter, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Shhh, shhh. They won’t take me away from you, baby. I promise. Look at me.” She pulled away and held your chin up.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine remember?,” she leaned closer to your ear, “Take this,” she whispered, handing you a brooch you’ve seen her wear all the time, “Keep this safe for me, okay? Act like nothing happened and I will find you, how does that sound?”

“For how long?” You whined.

“A week a at most-”

“A week?”

“I need you to be patient, sweet girl,” she chuckled , brushing a hair out of your face, “Don’t you want to live with me forever?” You looked down at the brooch before pulling Agatha into a kiss. She returned the kiss, her hands gripping your hips as she deepened it. She pulled away reluctantly after a few moments, resting her forehead against yours.

“Remember, just act normal and be patient-”

“Times up!” an officer interrupted, “Let’s go Y/n. You can go home now.” You looked back at Agatha, giving her one last kiss before you were dragged out.

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @p-taryn-dactyl

#fanfic #smut #angst #agatha harkness #fluff #agatha all along #x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #swat #serial killer #monica rambeau #dark!agatha #marvel #wandavision

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splatashahowlett · 4 months ago

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missing piece

logan (james) howlett x reader

the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.

you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.

you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?

right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.

"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.

"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.

"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.

you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.

you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.

logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.

"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.

"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.

"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.

"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.

"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.

“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.

“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.

“I told you, I miss you”.

“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.

logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.

you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.

“let me take you home” he begged

“where?”

“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”

you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.

"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:

“I love you” he breathed.

you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.

"I love you most"

you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.

you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.

"come on, let's get out of here"

#logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #logan howlett fluff #wolverine x reader #xmen fanfiction

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mauvecherie-writes · 2 months ago

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the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x black!oc kalani halloway

• chapter warnings: none

• w.c: 3.8K

• ru’s 💌: First thing first, I want to apologise for how long it took to post this. With school and placement taking up a lot of my time, amongst other distractions and my mental health just not being the best for a while, writing has not been my main priority, and I am trying to make up for that now. Updates will be slow, but they won’t be non-existent. Please don’t forget to like, comment and re-blog.

• tip: kofi | paypal

series masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

PRESENT DAY

“ARE you sure that you want to keep doing this with him Lani? Like I love you and I’ll always be in your corner, but I have to agree with your therapist here. What are you gaining from continuing to sleep with Malik?”

The bluntness of the question almost knocked the wind out of Kalani’s lungs. Over the decades of their friendship, she had come to know that Julian did not pull any punches when it came to honesty. It should not have shocked her that her best friend would react like this to the revelation of such news. Maybe it was the exasperation and disappointment that she picked up in his tone that made Kalani want to shrivel into herself from shame.

“Lani!” His voice boomed through the car speaker, breaking her train of thought. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.” She mumbled as her hands tightened around the stirring wheel.

“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”

“It was a moment of weakness okay!” She exclaimed, finally admitting it to herself and to her best friend. “There was always an excuse to get me alone. To discuss the divorce or something about the kids. And he’d just … he would charm me, and I would be reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place then I’d give in.”

“Tuh.” Julian scoffed. “Talk of the divorce like he’s not trying to distract you from the fact that he has not signed those papers.” He added, the truth causing her shoulder to sag as she leaned back into her seat.

“I know.”

“Baby, I’m not trying to make you upset —.” He sighed, speaking in a much tender tone. But it was too late. The shame that had been brewing in her stomach for so long had bubbled back up her throat.

“I just need you to really think about this. It has been two years since you have asked for the divorce, Malik keeps stalling signing the papers, under the guise of trying to make it work. But we all know that he is still with that bitch. Like he can’t have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t have any regard for who he’s hurting and that is you and the kids. I need you to be better than your weakness for him. It’s not fair.”

His words were hurtful to hear but Kalani could not argue against them because she knew that they were true. That is why she had decided to begin therapy. She had not slept with Malik in over six months since she had started her therapy session. This round, Kalani had finally shared the truth that she had on tinted with intimacy with her ex-husband despite the separation.

“I KNOW.” Kalani sniffed as her tears threatened to spill over. The tremble in her voice could not be hidden and Julian picked up on it.

“Lani, listen-.”

“Hey, so um — I gotta go. I need to pick up Princess from my aunt’s place.” Kalani quickly spoke out as she rounded the corner into a residential street. “Talk later.”

She did not wait for him to respond as she ended the phone call. Kalani took a deep breath as she put the car into an empty parking spot. She continued to sulk in her seat as the heaviness in her chest had returned. Everything that Julian had said to her were all things that she knew and had known from the first time, she had slept with him after they split.

Stuck in the moment, every time they had done the deed had felt good. In some way, it had felt like she had been reclaiming her power. It felt good to know that in some way, her ex still wanted her. In Kalani’s need to be desired by the man that she was married to for nearly twenty years, she had momentarily lost herself and had forgotten what was important.

The happiness of her children.

So Kalani took in a deep breath and exhaled, wiped away her tears and re-applied her lip gloss. She practised her smile in the rear-view mirror until she was satisfied with a more approachable facial expression. She got out of her car and fixed the legs of her pantsuit before she walked a short distance on the pathway and onto the property.

It did not take any time from her opening the small front gate for the front door to be opened.

“Mummy!” The excited shriek of her young daughter sounded through the air as her little feet carried her as fast as they could towards her. Kalani immediately dent down to her level and opened her arms, waiting for her daughter. She dived into her arms and Kalani could just feel all of that heaviness began to lift away from her heart. As her daughter squeezed her little around her neck, Kalani immediately felt better.

“Hi, my Princess!” She smiled at Tiara. Princess’s little giggles were what she got in response as she pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes.

“I missed you so much, Mummy.”

“I missed you too! Did you enjoy school and time with Auntie Angie?”

“Mhm!” Tiara nodded her head as she played with Kalani’s earrings. “Today, I learnt what a doing word is! And then Auntie Angie baked me a banana cake.”

“The cake is for all of you, not just you baby.” Aunt Angela spoke from behind Tiara which caused Kalani to chuckle as a frown appeared on her little girl’s face.

“Emi doesn’t like banana cake as much as I do!” Tiara exclaimed.

“I know baby. But can we at least save a piece for brother first?”

“Okay.” Her small voice of defeat made Kalani’s heart swoon. She cradled her daughter’s head to her chest as she walked towards the door where Angela had been standing with Tiara’s belongings and the wrapped up banana cake.

“Hi sweetie.” Angela had greeted her as she awkwardly hugged Kalani.

“Hi Auntie.” She replied. It was like she could feel the love outpouring from the embrace. And it took all of her strength to not break down then and there.

“You okay?” Angela asked her. Kalani softly nodded her head, not trusting her words in that moment. She took a deep breath before offering a smile of re-assurance.

“Just need my baby.” Kalani replied. “Thank you for looking after her today.”

“You never have to thank me for that. I love Princess and I love spending time with her.”

After a couple of more minutes of casual conversation, Kalani and Tiara said their goodbyes and then left her aunt’s home. On the journey to pick up Emil, she sang along to the current kid bops that Tiara was currently enjoying. Her daughter filled the car with chatter about what her day at school was and repeated stories of previous adventures. Kalani did not mind at all. Hearing her daughter talk was far more enjoyable than being left with the chaos that was her thoughts.

When they had arrived at the local sports and leisure centre, Kalani noticed that by the outdoor astroturf, there was a larger crowd than there should be for a practice on an early Wednesday evening . She walked hand in hand with Tiara towards the grounds and smiled when she noticed the crowds full of young and old cheering on.

No matter how much Emil had tried to teach her, there were still aspects of the game of football that she would never understand. However, that never changed how much Kalani cheered on Emil and supported him. She knew that he had fallen in love with football due to Malik’s love for the sport, his passion came from within, and Emil had the talent to match. If Emil was willing to play, then Kalani was going to do everything that she could to make sure that he continued to play to his greatest heights.

From where Kalani stood, she could tell that it was an intense game for a practise but neither the Red nor Green sides seemed to care. When Emil touched the ball, he sprinted across the field with incredible of the ball and passing by the red players who were trying to defend. Emil then passed the ball to another green player who was open. This player then quickly shot the ball into the net, scoring the winning goal.

The crowd, including Kalani and Tiara cheered for the green shirts.

The game came to an end and with the crowds beginning to disperse, Tiara shot away from Kalani’s side and ran towards his older brother as she screamed his name. She smiled as she watched Emil pick up his little sister and throw her into the air, catch her and then spin her around.

As she proudly watched the moment, she caught a growing crowd from the corner of her eye. She noticed a man standing in the middle with the biggest smile on his face as he tried to greet every one that was surrounding him. That bright smile with the small tooth gap was the first thing that caught her attention. His twisted strands were in a ponytail, but his sides and beard were nicely trimmed in a way that brought attention to his chiselled facial features. Kalani’s eyes travelled to his large and muscular tatted arms that even with his bronzed, umber complexion, the design of the tattooed sleeves stood out. He was dressed simply, in a black, sleeveless knitted vest and what looked like black trousers. Kalani had spent too much time staring at him for her to notice that his jewellery was expensive and some of it was probably custom made.

As if picking up on her inquisitive eyes, the man looked up and stared right at her. She had never seen such an intense yet sincere pair of eyes that were the smoothest of chocolate brown. Kalani bit her lip in embarrassment at being caught looking when he smiled at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her children, who were walking towards her and tried not to think about why the stranger felt vaguely familiar.

“Hi Mum.” Emil greeted her as he placed Tiara down on her feet before reaching towards her and giving her a sideways hug. Kalani reciprocated the hg and patted his sweat drenched curls.

“Hi baby, you were great out there.” She complimented him which caused him to grin.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Any particular reason why you guys were playing like it was the finals of the Premier League?”

“Oh! The owner of the centre is here, and we just wanted to impress him I guess.”

“You were out there acting like he’s like a talent scout.” Kalani chuckled.

“He might as well be. He used to be a sportsperson, so he knows a lot of people.”

“Like Mbappa right?”

“Mbappé, Mum. Mbappé.” Emil corrected her with a roll to his eyes.

“Well, whatever his name is.” Kalani shrugged her shoulders and then picked Tiara into her arms. “Anyway, go get your stuff. We need to be home before 8:30.”

For a fraction of a moment, she saw her son’s gleeful demeanour slip. He nodded his head and then jogged away. Kalani watched as he stopped and talked to the same man that she had made eye contact with. The joy in his face was back once more and it eased the tension within her. She was sending them to their fathers’ for the weekend as she needed some time to herself to re-charge before she embarked on a large project at work.

However, Emil had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the man that he had once idolised. Emil confessed to enduring the visit for the sake of Tiara, who was still trying to adjust to the separation.

When he came back, they all hurdled into the car and they drove back home, not before stopping for a takeaway pizza collection.

After they had arrived back at their home, Kalani rushed her children to take their evening showers before preparing their bags.

Kalani stayed downstairs as she prepared their dinner. Alongside the pizza, she made a simple arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and a balsamic dressing. Once she had set the table and could finally take a sip of her white wine.

She dreaded the weekends when her children were away. Because it forced her to think. It forced her evaluate every single decision that led to this very moment that she was currently residing in.

Her hatred for Malik increased.

Memories of their past floated in front of her. Her and Malik dancing around the kitchen as they cooked whilst Emil set the kitchen table and Tiara narrating stories from her vivid imagination.

They were so happy.

They were so in love.

Where in the fuck did he ever find the time to cheat on her? She wondered.

That was a question that she never got an answer to. And it was a question, she was afraid of what the answer may be. It just was not something that she was ready to confront. Kalani was left to deal with all of that harbouring anger all alone.

“Mummy look! Me and Emi are matching!” Tiara rushed rushed down the stairs with Emil in tow. When Kalani turned her head towards their direction, a laughter full of elation burst from her when she noted that the duo were indeed matching. Tiara was dressed in a hot pink Nike tracksuit that was a contrast to Emil’s grey one.

“She wasn’t going to wear anything else.” Emil commented as they entered the large kitchen area, approaching the sink to wash their hands.

“That’s okay. Princess just wants to be like her big brother huh.” Kalani smiled as she smoothed her daughter’s hair.

“Yep!” Tiara gave them her dazzling smile. “Except, I don’t like football, and he doesn’t like banana cake!” The little girl stated before her focus shifted to the slices of banana cake on the table. “Ooouuu caaaakkee.”

“Not so fast, young lady!” Kalani spoke up which stopped Tiara in her tracks. “Can you eat some pizza first before the cake?”

“Okay, Mummy.” She pouted as she moved to sit down in her chair by the table. Emil shook his his head as he plated a slice of pizza for himself before sitting down.

They sat in silence as they ate their food, but Kalani could tell from her son’s solemn expression that something was bothering him.

“You okay baby?” She asked him as a worried expression marked her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile that she didn’t believe.

“You sure? You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just -.” Emil stopped talking before he let out a sigh. He then turned his attention to Tiara who was focused on trying to do a cheese pull. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” He concluded.

Kalani swallowed as she tried to not be disappointed with his response. Outside of the pure anger that was palpable whenever his father was mentioned, Emil had concealed his emotions about the divorce from her, always giving her that same answer of not being ready to talk. She had offered for him to go to therapy but he refused, saying that he did not need it.

“I caught him cheating Mum, not killing somebody.” He had said to her after the therapy suggestion. She dropped it then, however as her sessions continued, the more she wanted to push for Emil to go. But she was not going to force his hand. He’d go when he was ready.

“How’s this? When you come back, I’ll take the day off work and break you out of school and we do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Emil replied as a small smile returned to his face. Kalani reached over and softly pinched his cheek.

“That’s my boy.” She wicked at him.

They finished dinner in a much better mood with Emil updating her on his coming football schedule so that she could make time for it in her diary. And it wasn’t long after they had cleared the table did the doorbell ring.

Kalani glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 8:40pm.

A cloud of tension suddenly covered the serenity of their home as she realised who was at the front door. Kalani looked at her son, who was already moving to collect Tiara from her position in her play area by the living room.

“Give me five minutes, I need to talk to your father about something.” She said to him. Emil nodded his head.

“Princess come on, gotta make sure that you have all of your toys ready.” He said before picking her up and giving her a piggy-back ride up the stairs which caused her to squeal with each step.

Kalani mentally prepared herself as she dried her hands with a hand towel before she headed to the door.

With one more pep talk, she swung the door open and met her ex-husband with a close-lipped smile with her body blocking the entrance.

Standing shy of 6 foot 2 inches with a rich, tawny complexion, a shaved head and trimmed goatee – Malik was a physically handsome man. At forty-three, he kept himself fit, had an impeccable wardrobe (that she introduced him to) and a gorgeous smile that her daughter inherited. Full lips with slick words that could charm the pants off a recluse. She would know, they’d been working on her for close to two decades.

“Hi Lani.” He smiled down at her.

“Hi Malik.” Her tone was curt, which caused his cheeky expression to slip by minor fraction, but she caught it.

“How are you?” He asked. “You look beautiful as ever.” He complimented her, trying to work his charm as he had done so many times before.

It wasn’t going to work this time.

“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before she moved to step outside. She drew the door close and left it slightly agar.

“I need to talk to talk to you about something.”

“Are the kids okay?” He worried.

“They’re as fine as they can be. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“When are you going to sign the papers, Malik? You’ve been putting them off for far too long now.”

“What do you mean sign?” He frowned in confusion. “I thought that we were taking this time to figure things out.”

“What things?!” Kalani sternly exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You refused couple’s counselling. Emil doesn’t want therapy and wont talk to me about it. Tiara thinks you’re working on a big project at work because she doesn’t understand that we’re separated.” As the words spat out of her mouth, the angrier she became. “Let’s not fucking forget, that little girlfriend of yours is still around and you thought that I didn’t know about it.”

“She’s not Kalani!” Malik quickly tried to shut down her accusation.

“Oh please!” She scoffed as she looked at him up and down in disgust. “Her perfume is lingering on you right now. I should know, I was washing it off for years!” She hissed.

Kalani watched as Malik tried to sniff his clothes and that disgusted her even more as she could see the gears in his mind churning up an excuse.

“Listen, it’s not like that.” He began to say.

“I don’t give a shit what it’s like. I want those divorce paper signed and delivered to my office by Monday. If not then no more nice Kalani, I’ve put up with your shit for too long.”

Without giving Malik a chance to reply, she opened the door just as she picked up on the patter of feet rushing down the stairs. Tiara zoomed past her and dove into her father’s legs, hugging them.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” She chanted, bouncing with excitement. Malik picked her up into his arms and gave him one of his practised smiles as he peppered her face with kisses.

“My gorgeous girl! You’re getting so big!” He said which caused Tiara to grin.

“Look! My tooth fell out and the tooth fairy gave me one pound and Mummy told me to add it to my piggy bank!”

“Oh, that’s so awesome Princess!”

“When all my teeth fall out, I’m gonna be rich!”

“Oh, I bet!” Malik tickled her sides which caused another high-pitched squeal to leave Tiara. In all of her rage, it was the joy of her daughter that mattered to her. Emil trotted to her side, holding their weekend bags.

“You got everything baby?” She asked him. He nodded his head.

She hated having to send him with his father, but she did not trust Malik to care for Tiara without Emil’s assistance. She brought in her son for a tight hug and kissed the side of his head. “It’s just two days and you’ll be back.”

Emil sighed at those words before nodding his head. “Bye Mum.” He mumbled before he kissed her cheek and walked past Malik without acknowledging him. She could see that Malik was trying to not let that get to him but kept a brave face for Tiara. It may be horrible to admit but it felt nice to know that there was one more person who hated his guts the way she did.

‘Right, Princess, you’re going to be on our best behaviour for your father, okay?” Kalani said to Tiara.

“Mhm.” Tiara nodded her head before Kalani placed a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll talk about what we talked about later.” Malik glared at her.

“Unless it’s about that signature, then we have nothing to talk about.” She glared back.

Kalani waved goodbye to her children as Malik drove away. Once she shut her front door, she let out the biggest sigh of relief as her body relaxed. She had not realised just how tense she had been in the minutes Malik was here.

It had felt like hours.

With her body on autopilot, Kalani finished cleaning up the kitchen and packing away Tiara’s toys before she grabbed her bottles of wine, forgoing the glass and dragged her body up the stairs to her bedroom. As she prepared for her evening bath, she put her favourite playlist on and danced to the music as she stripped down to her bathing suit.

Once her tub was full of hot water and bubbles, she sank down, laying down her head on the towel. She took a large gulp of her wine and get the bottle down.

With only the sultry voice of Sadé as solace, Kalani let her walls down and cried to her hearts content.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44

#mauvecherie writes #the kaleidoscope theory:series #lewis hamilton x black oc #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton fanfiction #sir lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x yn #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh

155 notes · View notes

mental69er · 20 days ago

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Post Kill Yandere Victoria Neuman

setting: you set the president elect off the rails and now you're in for it

content: yandere victoria, mentions of head popping, blood, jealous and possessive victoria, fem reader who is very into feral victoria, mutually assured destruction i guess, slight choking, quips about politics, morally gray reader

"Look what you made me do, baby," Victoria crooned darkly, shoving back the wet mass of her soaked hair to keep it out of her eyes. It remained slicked back, weighed down by the blood that stained it and dribbled down her face. Crimson soaked the front of her clothes, forever ruining the white shirt, and the baby blue suit that you loved so much.

But you did always find red to be a complimentary color on Victoria.

She turned to face you, breathing slightly heavy, white fading from her vision. There was a feral look in her eyes- the adrenaline of a satisfying kill.

The alleyway was dark and otherwise deserted, the contents of a man's head exploded across the brick walls, body slumped by the trash bags.

The noise from the bar seemed dull, the heavy metal door you had left through unable to be opened from this side. Victoria had seen to shoving a dumpster in the way so she couldn't be interupted from this.

You said nothing, heart pounding in your chest, little clouds fogging the air in front of you. You hadn't brought your jacket with you, and the wind cut through the skimpy gold top you wore, sending goosebumps rippling up your near naked thighs, only adorned with a mini skirt.

Victoria approached you, tsking. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked. The smell of rust rose off of her, the blood cooling down and drying on her skin. "Are you happy now?" she paused in front of you, that familar anger swirling under her skin. "Happy that you ran off to some skeazy joint, picked up a sleazebag to make out with, and made me kill him?"

You said nothing, knees almost knocking together.

Victoria's lips bared back in a snarl and she reached for your throat, applying just enough pressure to tighten it. To make it feel a bit harder to breathe. You knew she could snap your neck with ease.

She wouldn't.

"Answer me," she said, biting her words.

"You didn't have to hurt him," you managed to choke out and her grip tightened more. You lifted up on your tip toes to alleviate some of the pressure.

"His hands were all over you, and so was his disgusting mouth," she growled out.

"You were busy," you shot back.

"I was at work."

"You couldn't answer my texts?"

"It's very hectic right now with the campaign. One that you're making me risk if it gets out that I killed someone."

"You didn't have to do it," you repeated.

"You're mine," she said, pushing you back into the wall. The harsh brick scratched at your exposed skin. "I don't care how busy I am, I want you to remember that."

"All talk and no action, typical politician type," you sneered at her, refusing to show her how nervous you were.

Her face hardened in anger before she attacked your mouth. The kiss was rough, with a clank of teeth that sent a jolt of pain through you. Your cry of pain was muffled, the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

Victoria did not let up the kiss, devouring your mouth, sucking your tongue into hers, nipping at your bottom lip til it turned red. You tried to catch your breath when she pulled away, glaring at you.

"When will you learn, you can't keep goading me like this," she hissed at you, though it didn't look like she had quite minded.

"You smiled as he died," you shot back at her. "I know it was good stress relief." Your hands laid over the one on your throat holding you down. "I can be good stress relief too, Vicky."

She pushed right into you for another bruising kiss, this time her hand going too tight on your throat. Air supply was starting to be cut off, white sparking in front of your eyes.

As it was about to become too much she let go, allowing you to suck in lungfuls of air. She took the time to unbutton your shorts, and to slip a hand up your shirt.

Her hand thumbed at your breast, flicking your pert nipple. You let out a groan at the sensation, that only doubled when her other hand dove under your underwear to find the spot between your thighs that dripped for her.

"This wet for me? In an alleyway with a dead body in it?" she poised and you let your arms wrap around her neck, drawing her closer.

"As if you're not soaking wet from what you did," you countered. "At least I only get this wet from you." You faked pouted. "You let yourself get wet from him."

She roughly pushed into your entrance at that, stretching you out with three fingers.

"I only care for you," she said, tone offended. "You're the only one I would burn this world down for. You have no idea how often you run through my head. I can't stop thinking about you, even when I should be thinking of work. Yet there you are, infecting my thoughts everyday." The hand under your shirt pinched your nipple roughly, puncutating her point.

You gasped out at her words and the press of her fingers deep inside you. She moved hard and fast, leaving your head spinning as your chest heaved for air.

"The things I think of doing to you," she chuckled darkly, "no woman should think of."

"Oh fuck," you moaned, body flushing with intense heat as more wetness slipped down your thighs, at the idea of what depraved thoughts were running in her head about you.

Your hips canted up into her palm, sinking in deep on her fingers.

"You drive me crazy, you drive me to kill," she confessed, voice growing breathier as she watched you unfold under her. She swallowed thickly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm the headless one."

"Vicky, fuck!" you exclaimed, not bothering to be quiet. There was no one around to hear you. Your nails sunk into her skin, wanting to mark and brand her.

Her tough demeanor from before was melting as she watched you on the verge of an orgasm, fucking yourself so well against her, slinging up one leg to hoist over her hip.

"Like that, baby, just like that," she purred, knocking her forehead into yours, the blood sticking to your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut and then you came, stilling your body as you filled Victoria's palm with sticky heat.

She pressed kisses up and down the side of your face, quietly praising you for doing such a good job.

You slumped into her, wincing lightly at the sting of your skin. You were probably rubbed raw. A reminder for next time, to be better prepared for a fucking in the alleyway. She pulled her fingers out of you and sucked the liquid off of them, moaning at their taste.

The feral energy was still in her eyes, but it had softened into something else with your release. You knew it was time to leave this place, and take her back to bed where you could help her work out all her frustrations by letting her fuck you until morning came.

"You're a little shit, you know that," she said, catching her breath. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you shrugged innocently, batting your long lashes at her.

"You love riling me up. Do you have a thing for me popping heads?" she asked and you giggled lightly before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Let's just say I did my research beforehand and this guy really deserved his head getting popped off. The courts wouldn't punish him for what he did, but you could. And if I could get a two for one with you killing him and fucking me, well," you shrugged again. "Worth it."

"You're worse than a career politician." Victoria buried a smile and chuckle into your shoulder.

#the boys #gen v #the boys amazon #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #victoria neuman x fem reader #victoria neuman x you

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dwaekkicidal · 6 months ago

Text

Worship.

˚ʚChangbin x Gn!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Making love with and worshiping Seo Changbin. No real plot, just reader spoiling Binnie (like he deserves 🔫).

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: want to say gender neutral but 1 very slight mention of pregnancy so fem!reader just incase, reader is referred to as “Bunny,” a teeny bit angsty; mentions of binnie feeling nervous about his ‘ab’ reveal, oral (m receiving), binnie cries like 1(½) times (im sorry), love making and slow sex (tho the sex itself is super short), creampie (try to pee after sex pls), tiny breeding mention

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I cant even lie i actually cried multiple times while writing this LMFAOO. 😐 I’m sleep deprived and I get suuuper moody when I am so here we are. anyways.. this was largely inspired by the tummy part i wrote in this, but i got super sappy and was listening to mind numbing, slow love songs while I wrote this so i made it worshiping him in general (i'm not sorry. he deserves all of this and more)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Your knees were so sore, the soft carpet under you was no longer doing its job in cushioning them from your spot on the floor. But, you’re not sure you would complain even if you were able to. The sight above you was one that you would happily fight every god and goddess for just the chance of seeing again. Changbin was leaned against your bedroom door, shirt bunched up tightly in his hand as he held it to his chest. His jaw is slacked and his eyebrows were knitted together harshly. Your jaw ached at this point, but you were here to prove a point.

You had overheard your boyfriend talking to his members about the recent “Ab reveal” comment he made in a recent SKZCode episode. The members had told him many times that he didn’t actually have to go through with it, that nobody would be mad at him if he decided to not do it. You took it upon yourself to talk to him about this, and when you realized that he was very shy about his tummy compared to his confidence about his biceps, you realized you had some work to do.

So, being the good lover that you are, you dropped to your knees and promised to prove to him just how sexy all of him was. And that’s how you got here. Now, focusing back on your goal you simply sunk farther onto his dick, humming against his sensitive tip as it hit the back of your throat.

“H-Holy shit… Bunnyy-”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and the hand in your hair tightened. His hand held you there for a few seconds until you gagged against him, then he finally pulled you off slightly. You could feel his legs start to shake under your palms as you returned to your previous pace, the pleasure was getting too much and you could easily tell how close he was when he whined so prettily. You hastily get back to work and use your hands on his thighs as leverage, bobbing your head forward and backwards with a strong desire to please him.

“Fuck! God, you’re so good to me, Bunny. What did I do to deserve you.” Your eyebrows furrow in a glare up at him before you lightly graze your teeth against his length as punishment, not enough to actually hurt him badly but just enough to remind him what this was all about in the first place. “A-AH! S-Sorry!”

You felt his hips stutter and you take that as the only warning besides his pitching moans, so you pull off so only his tip rests against your tongue and suck. Your hands move to quickly pump the rest of his length, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside, as he rides out his high. The hand in your hair moves to hold a deafening grip on his hip, he’s trying his hardest to not let out a pornographic moan as his hips buck uncontrollably into your mouth. His eyes stayed on the scene in front of him for as long as they could before they slammed shut from how overwhelming it all was.

Once his hips cease their movements, and are instead replaced with little convulses from sensitivity, you pull away and leave a soft kiss to his tip. A shaky laugh is pulled from him in pure disbelief of the intensity of the orgasm you just gave him. He goes to pull you up but you smack his hand away, opting to stay on the floor and litter kisses along his thighs. They trail unbearably slowly; up his thighs to his pelvis before trailing up to his stomach. You stay there for a while, appreciating the area with soft pecks of adoration and nibbles just to tease a little.

It was uncomfortable to crouch at this angle, but you needed your point to be proven. You needed this man to understand just how sexy he was to you. Just how fucking insane he drove you by merely breathing the same air as you. You were obsessed with your Seo Changbin, and honestly who could blame you? He was the hottest man in the universe. Very silly but serious when needed, he treated you like royalty even in front of his friends and family, and he communicated his feelings like you’d never seen before. He was everything a woman could ask of a man, and you felt it was your only goal in life to make sure he knew it.

After getting lost in your thoughts, you return to your endeavor and rise up to his chest. It was still rising up and down from his frantic breaths, but you ignored the chance to tease him over it and instead placed soft kisses to his pecs. You’re moving up again and linger at his neck, nibbling it softly and leaving hickies that you know would unfortunately fade by morning. When you finally reach his face, you hover mere millimeters away and take in his expression. He’s an absolute mess.

His breath still hasn’t returned to him, but this time it was prevented by the overwhelming tenderness being physically given to him. Something he’s never experienced on this level before. You almost feel guilty that you didn’t show him sooner, but before you can think too much into it you pull yourself together. He lets out strangled noises as you place kisses on his cheeks, then forehead, and finally his nose. You can only assume the noises are from the lack of your lips on his, but when you pull away to do so you realize you were wrong. You’re met with a heart-rending scene.

His pretty dark eyes are watery, and some tears have already fallen along the cheeks you just pressed your lips to. Your expression must show obvious surprise cause he frowns and more tears fall. His lips part as if he was going to speak up but you hush him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you finally place your lips to his. His hands plant themselves on your hips, he squeezes them a little roughly but you know it's to mentally ground himself so complaining doesn’t even cross your mind.

You two stay like this for some time, lips locked in a slow and passionate make out session, hands holding each other as close as physically possible. You finally pull away after some minutes, resting your forehead against his as you both stare lovingly into each other's eyes. The tears finally stopped falling but his eyes are still very glossy.

Your soft voice finally breaks the silence, as much as you want to continue your efforts, his well being is a million times more important. “You ok Binnie?” He takes a deep breath and chooses to nod instead of speaking up. You giggle and place kisses along his cheek again, giving him time to collect himself and finish catching his breath.

When he finally returns to his normal self he nuzzles himself into your neck and places his own kisses there. “Doing that to me during post nut clarity was so mean, Bunny. I’m gonna get you back for that tomorrow.” You laugh and pull away, bombarding his lips with soft kisses as a silent apology.

When you pull away, he speedingly kicks his pants away and tugs desperately at your shirt, “Why am I the only one naked, Bunny..” You smile and mumble an apology, tearing your clothes off before letting him lead you to the bed. You straddle him the second he lays down and his hands grab at the bottom of your ass cheeks, wanting to lift you so he can swap positions, but before he can do it you push his hands away. He gives you a confused pout as you push him down to lay on the bed, hovering yourself over his dick and leaning forward to press more kisses to his collarbone.

“Mmm.. ‘already told you I wanna spoil you tonight, Binnie. If you let me, I just wanna worship you for a bit..” He bites his lip and nods. “I promise if we do a round two I’ll let you take control. But, for now, let me spoil my God-like boyfriend to make up for all the other chances I missed.” He groans and throws his arms over his head, freeing his hold on you to let you take the reins.

He feels you smile into his skin and it manages to give him butterflies. He quickly gets lost in thought when you bury him in another pile of kisses. At this moment in time he’s finally realizing just how tightly he’s wrapped around your finger. The boys have teased him over it for months but he never fully saw it until now. He fears that if you would ask him to set the world on fire, he wouldn’t hesitate. It’s normally scary to love somebody that much. But as your kisses move between his neck, his pecs, his biceps, and his tummy… All he feels is pride. The man before you realizes in this very moment that he is in so much deeper than he thought he was.

It’s when you’re finally sinking down on him that he distances from these thoughts surrounding his newfound awareness. He lets out a quiet moan at the feeling of you wrapped around him, and another at the sight of his beautiful Bunny sitting so prettily on his dick, biting their lip and looking down at him with such warmth in their eyes.

And you? You’re met with the sight of your beautiful boyfriend, the man you would drop everything in the world to marry and run away with, if he so asked. The man who does everything in his power to make you happy. The man who would, and has, done everything physically possible to keep you safe from the dangers outside of your shared apartment. As you grind down on him, you start to slip into your own thoughts. But the shine of his eyes starting to water again has you immediately stop your movements in worry.

But when the moans from him were replaced with whines and a distressed pout, you couldn’t dare to bring yourself to deny him of what he wants. Your hips start to lift and drop you onto him slowly. The two of you would normally be fucking like rabbits, but after everything that just happened there’s a silent agreement to take it slower tonight.

His hands grip tightly to your hips, helping you in the up and down movements as you lean down to be chest to chest with him. Your eyes lock and stare into one another’s for a few seconds before you fold first, leaning further into him for a kiss. Your movements would have stopped completely if it wasn’t for his hands doing the work now, grinding you against him slowly. The tears in his eyes finally go away just in time for him to watch you pull away, leaning back up to continue towards your goal. Then, just like earlier, you lose yourself in efforts to please him and love on him. Your hips slap against each other in a slow rhythm that still gets the job done.

When he feels you clenching harder and notices your hips moving more messily, he moves his hands to grab your wrists and starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. The fingers on both of your hands interlace with both of his, and this is how the two of you finish. Eyes, hands, and bodies locked together. When you don’t move to pull off him, he feels his chest swell with even more pride. However, this time caused by the split second idea of starting a family with you. The thought of settling down has crossed his mind before, but when you’re cumming like that above him after worshiping every inch of his skin you could get your hands on, the idea very quickly imprints itself into his brain.

You ride him for a little longer to make the highs last as long as possible, and when it's finally over, the two of you sit there in silence to catch your breaths. His hands grab your forearms to hold you in place as he sits up, then pulls you into another desperate but passionate kiss.

The two of you lay together; bodies tangled and lips locking together.

When he doesn’t lean back in for another kiss, and instead just stares at you with a smile on his face, you can tell he’s lost in thought. But based on the smile, you leave it be and just smile back. On his side of things, he decided to poke at you tomorrow to ask where this all came from all of the sudden. In the meantime though, he just lies and enjoys your warmth, reveling in the new objective he has for his life. The once comforting silence is broken when he mindlessly speaks about this new goal in his mind.

“Bunny?”

“Yes baby?”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Nobody perceive me. I'm in shambles.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz

#oh what i would do to show this man how loved he is..#sian’s writing #changbin fluff #changbin smut #skz fluff #skz smut #changbin x reader #changbin x reader smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader smut

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jiyascepter · 7 months ago

Text

Training Blues

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Words: 1133

Warnings/Content: Hurt/Comfort; insecure, sad reader, crying, sweet & comforting loki (cause who doesn't love a caring bf?), kisses & cuddles, mention of other mcu characters (say hello!), use of 'Y/n', both loki & y/n are Avengers

Summary: Y/n struggles with feelings of inadequacy in training until Loki comforts them

A/n: Feeling a bit low lately, decided to write this *alexa play 'i can do it with a broken heart'*

"Y/n?" You could hear his voice booming down the corridor, getting closer to you. You hurriedly wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sigh, and rise back up, attempting to calm your body language so that your beloved, god of mischief, does not perceive you as a crybaby.

It had been about eight months since you joined the Avengers. For the last few weeks, it has been really rough since your training partner, Steve, was away for some missions and was replaced with Natasha.

You just could not keep up with her; she used to get pretty competitive during practices, and no matter how much you tried, you just couldn't match her speed. And it was frustrating. Not that she wasn't supportive; you just could not convince yourself that it was okay to lag behind.

You were occasionally training alone at night, which meant you didn't have enough time with Loki. And he noticed this.

You were exhausting yourself, and it broke his heart to see you like this, and it hurt him even more that you weren't telling him what was going on.

"Y/n, what peculiar matters have stirred within you this late, my dear?" He says this as he enters your room.

"Nothing, Loki, I'm fine." You answer by not looking at him and pretending to do your hair in the mirror. It crushed his heart to hear your big, cheerful voice fade into a feeble whisper.

He approaches you and wraps his hands around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder and gazing at your reflection. "I know what's happening with you sweetheart, and I cannot bear to see you like this anymore." He murmurs it quietly, tightening his grip on your waist and bringing you into his chest.

You offer him a fictitious, reassuring beam and try to back away. "Everything's fine, Loki. I'm heading to the training room." You turn around, kiss his cheek, and start to leave the room when he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him.

"You're not going. Natasha won't be in the training room anyway."

You frown. "Why? Where did she go?"

"I beseeched her to suspend your instruction for a brief span so you can focus on your well-being." He says, touching your cheek.

You give him a perturbed expression. "Loki, you do not understand. If I abandon my workouts for a few days, I'll lose my practice and—"

"And? And what, darling?"

The lump in your throat that had been lingering for the past ten minutes was too painful. You would break down even if you try to utter a single word now.

Like a baby.

You become silent and stare at him with a tiny grimace on your face. Loki catches your quivering lip and draws you close to his chest, his arms encircling your body. You couldn't help but finally break down in front of him, sobbing quietly against his chest.

No No No. How could you let go of your emotions in front of him?

He scooped you up and laid you on the bed in a matter of seconds, comfortingly lying next you and cocooning your body once again.

"Shh..shh...darling, it really hurts me to see you like this, you know."

You peek up at him, your wet eyelashes glinting.

"Y/n my dear, you've been hiding behind that stoic facade for too long." Loki murmured, his voice filled with concern, and softly brushed a tear off your face. "What's exactly troubling you, hm?"

You sniffle. "I just feel like I lag behind you guys. I am new to this, and I need to train so I can keep up. But for the past few weeks, it's like I'm failing."

"Hey, you're just eight months in, you don't need to exert yourself too much, you know." Loki says, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet room.

"I just don't want to disappoint anyone." You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to disappoint you."

Loki's expression softens as his thumb brushes your cheek. "You never fail to falter my eyes, Y/n. In fact, you impress me so much throughout our missions that it distracts my focus."

He jokes, and you let out a gentle chuckle. He smiles back and leans in to kiss your forehead. "You are more than enough, always."

You smile through your tears softly.

He was so sweet with you.

He cups your cheeks and stares into your eyes while he speaks. "Do you know what else hurts me? The fact that you refrain from telling me what is going on with you."

You shift a bit. "I thought you would think of me as a crybaby if I complained too much... I don't want to set that image in front of you."

Loki chuckles. "Hey, you can share anything with me, I am your partner, am I not? And complaining about things does not make you a crybaby." He smiles and places a comforting sweet kiss on your nose.

"And even if such were the case, what of it? You remain unequivocally mine." He softly smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you once more, pulling your body to his.

You take a deep breath, feeling his warmth seep into you. "I just don't want to seem weak," you finally admit, your voice small. "I want to be strong, like everyone else."

Loki tilts your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked softly, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

"You were so determined, so fierce, even when you were just starting out. I saw in you a spirit that could not be broken, no matter the odds. That same spirit is still there sweetheart, even if you feel weary right now."

You smile when he mentions that. "I was so nervous on the first day."

Loki chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "And look at you now, my love. You've grown so much, accomplished so much. Do not let a few difficult weeks overshadow how far you've come. You are incredible, and I will always be here to remind you of that."

Loki's embrace settles on you like a peace blanket. Your love for him was coursing through your blood, reassuring you that everything would be okay as long as you had each other.

You nestle into his embrace, feeling safe and loved, letting go of the worries that had been weighing you down. With Loki by your side, you knew you could face anything, even your own insecurities.

"I love you," you whisper, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you.

"I love you too, my dear," Loki murmurs back, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Rest with me. Rest for a while."

Taglist in the comments because Tumblr is still buggy 😶‍🌫️

Lmk if you want to join my taglist or just click here

— thx for reading ♡

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02chois · 2 years ago

Text

TIPSY RENDEZVOUS

pairing: choi soobin x afab! reader

word count: 1.2k words

summary: the alcohol in your systems was to blame, but you really wanted to prove to him that you can handle him and his size.

warning(s): dom! soobin, sub! reader, face fucking, deep throating, manhandling, blowjob, big dick soobin, you and him are tipsy but y'all know what you're doing, lots of spit, light dacryphilia, usage of pet names (love & baby)

note: this has been in my mind ever since that tipsy live soobin did and I just had to write the idea down

Soobin was tipsy, but so are you. His beanie was already discarded somewhere on the floor, his fingers running through his dark hair— lips open as he panted heavily. He looks so heavenly, delicious that you couldn't help yourself but get your hands on him.

He leaned back against the couch, hand holding the can of beer while he used his other to stroke your hair. "Can you really handle me, love?" gently, he pushed a stray strand of hair away from your face.

He was big and you knew that since the first time you slept with him, but you were determined to take him whole. His gaze trails down to you, tilting his head to see you better— and fuck, the noticeable bulge of his dick in your throat is so hot. He had to suppress a moan in his throat from the sight.

Slowly, you pull away to give yourself a breather, you look up at him with glossy eyes. There was a string of saliva connecting on the head of his cock to your lips — it was red and swollen from the constant sucking — coated in spit glistening under the dim light.

"I can take you," you breathe out, your hand barely wrapping around his girth. You slowly pump your hand to create a steady rhythm, and with this he sighs dreamily.

He chuckles, the deep rumble in his chest causing your stomach to be filled with butterflies. "Am I too big for you? You can tell me the truth, I won't get mad at you."

You sluggishly rest your head on his thigh while pumping your hand, looking up at him through your lashes. You hear his sharp inhale of breath as you gently tap his heavy cock on your cheek. The saliva mixed with his precum staining your skin.

"Yes, 's too big, can't fit," you pout. He already knew the answer but hearing it from you is such an ego boost.

He flashes you a dimpled smile, "you can do it, baby. I know you can. You can do it for me, hm?"

"Yes, yes, I will for you," your reply came with a whimper, his larger frame towering over you is enough to have you dripping. Your legs spread wider, which gives him a much clearer view of your exposed cunt.

"You haven't even sucked me off that long and you're already that wet? You're dripping." He let out a laugh and soon earned a smack from you— which you try to hide your face from how red your cheeks were getting.

"Are you really up for it, baby? I don't want to hurt you because once we start I won't be able to stop." Soobin says; his voice went suddenly low, soft, and you couldn't help but smile from how concerned he is.

"Then don't stop, fuck my throat until it's sore," you reply with a giggle, "I asked for this, didn't I? And I should take responsibility for it."

The corner of his lips turn upwards, taking a sip of the can of beer before placing it down on the table. You straighten yourself to angle your head better. You placed light kisses on his tip, tasting the precum on your lips, before slowly taking him inch by inch. You hand pumping the remaining length you weren't able to take in.

"Shit, your mouth feels so good," he ran his fingers through your hair, his grip tightening once he felt the back of your throat. "Can you handle more, baby? I'll push you down more."

A muffled answer came from you, but that was enough for him to slowly push your head to get himself deeper in your throat. And hell, it was getting difficult to control your gag reflex, but you managed and closed your eyes in concentration. Your spit was dripping in the corner of your mouth, your eyes hand began to water from the unfamiliar stretch in your throat.

He gently put your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding your head to move at his preferred pace. Your grip on his thigh tightened and you swear that your nails on his skin will leave a mark by the next morning. A groan escapes his lips, eyes tightly shut and brows furrowed, temples dripping with sweat. He fastens his pace, bucking his hips into your throat. A choked sound came from you, but he didn't stop and continued thrusting.

Individually from each new shove down, loose stings manifested right from it, fueling the uptight knots in his stomach that were like a bubble being continuously nudged and forced to pop.

"Your mouth feels so good, so warm— you're the best, baby," he pours the remnant of his power into his moaned out words, "that, keep going like that." although low and husky, you heard him and kept going at the pace he wanted, your walls clenching onto nothing. He could visualize himself thrusting into your warm, wet cunt.

And without a warning, he roughly pushed you down until the tip of your nose touched the lower part of his abdomen. He wasn't able to control himself, his body was at its limits— your tears began to fall, feeling the thick white strings spurting in your throat. Your name weakly falling from his plump lips.

The moment he released your head, you immediately pulled away. Your mouth hanging open with his cum dripping in the corner of your lips, chest heaving and eyes filled with tears, yet here you are, giggling to yourself as you try and lick the cum off his twitching cock. He moves your hair away, some strands sticking onto your forehead— watching you clean him off, mind hazy from his high.

"You did so well, so good for me," he mutters, "come on up and out your legs on either side." His tone was stern, cold as he spoke to you.

You obliged and got up from your kneeling position, his hands holding your arms to help you. Your legs felt numb and so you let him manhandle you as much as he wants. Soobin forcefully grabs your face, pushing his lips onto yours— tasting himself on your tongue as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, which you suck eagerly.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and feeling the way his chest expands, then contracts. Your hand travels up to bury your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging to emit a reaction from him.

He aligns his cock to your opening, pushing your hips down to take him whole, you pull away from the kiss to arch your back, forcing a tear from your eyes and you see white. His hand covering your mouth to silent your scream.

"Shh, 'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I want to fuck you so, so much," his hushed voice sent shivers down your spine, "be quiet, okay? they'll hear you and I don't want that."

Everything feels slick and warm and sinfully good, you might not able to keep yourself silent the whole time he fucks you good. His cock twitching inside you, warm and stretching you out deliciously, mind numbingly good.

#soobin smut #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #txt smut #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #choi soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

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sunonyoreface · 2 years ago

Text

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 19

An: Thanks for your patience, I am so excited about this part!! SMUT WARNING, it gets spicy!

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 6100 (way too long!)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, minors dni, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of knives, mentions of death.

Photo credit to @ave661

Ghost towers over me, his dark shadow cast upon my cowering frame. Fearful eyes drag over the predator in front of me. How he analyzes my every move. How his black shirt clings to the thick muscle around his shoulders and arms as his chest eagerly heaves with excitement. How his gloved hands clench and release, ready to wrap themselves around me and tear me apart. This is what he was made for. This is the chase that sets him on fire, makes him feel alive.

“Now what’re you going to do?” his voice sounds like it could cut. After his initial attempt, I quickly cornered myself between the wall and the dresser. Now Ghost fills the entire walkway between the dresser and bed, leaving me with nowhere to go. Everything about his posture tells me he’s only seconds away from trying again. I spare a glance at the weapon in my hands and my grip tightens around it. “Your trapped, y/n, what’s your next move?” What the hell kind of training is this?

But I don’t get much time to think. The ambiguous soldier in front of me slowly stalks forward. There’s a vertical slit in his eyes like those of a wild cat who has just identified its next prey.

“If I wanted to kill you right now, how would you stop me?” he inches closer. My mind falters: the knife. The knife. But I can’t use it. I don’t know how. What if I end up hurting him? I feel my head start to shake, the word “no” at the tip of my tongue. He sees the fear finally catch up. “Use it, y/n,” Ghost urges me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the words are quiet on my lips. Tension fills my body.

“You won’t hurt me,” his words are immediate and almost cocky. The corners of his eyes crinkle from a cruel smile. Have I forgotten who he is? Don’t I know his reputation? He didn’t take his vest – his main source of protection off for no reason - I’m the furthest thing from a threat to him.

Ghost is done taking his time with me. He lunges forward with his arms outstretched. I make a last-ditch attempt at escaping by leaping toward the bed, but just as my foot touches the mattress a thick arm wraps around my waist and roughly pulls me flush against his chest. His other hand wrestles the knife from my grasp and as soon as the metal is gone from my hand, I feel the strangely familiar pressure of it against my throat.

“You’re not holding the knife properly,” he reprimands. Ghost’s chest pushes into me from behind and I can feel his arms flex as they constrict even tighter.

“Is this your idea of training me?” I bite back. Fear turns to frustration. How is it so easy for him to manhandle me like this?

“Come on, I know you can take it rough,” Ghost’s coarse voice brushes against my ear. “If you let the enemy touch you like this, you’re dead.”

“Then I guess I’m lucky it’s you,” thick sarcasm coats my tongue. I feel the hem of my shirt start to rise above my stomach as the electric heat from his body transfers through my skin. Then, just as fast as it happened, he lets go.

“Here,” he wraps my fingers around the handle in the proper position. “You’re not about to win a knife fight against a member of the task force. Your only goal is to create an opportunity to escape,” there’s a newfound seriousness to his voice. I turn around to meet his eyes. For a moment, I almost know what he’s thinking. If the Ultranationalist tries anything the next time he visits, Ghost won’t be there to protect me. I’ll be all on my own. This, and the wiretaps, are the best he can do.

“Okay,” I resign. “How?”

“You have to draw blood. Lots of it,” his lower lids squint as he gauges my reaction. How capable am I of violence? He hasn’t had the opportunity to witness that yet. If I’m being honest, neither have I. I’ve never been put in a position where I’ve had to hurt someone before. I don’t really know what I’m capable of. It’s a daunting possibility.

“Show me,” I force a nervous swallow as he closes the space between us. I feel my heart rate start to pick up.

“There are only two vulnerable spots that’ll slow him down when he’s wearing a vest,” Ghost starts to circle me. I don’t hear when he stops behind me. But I feel his large hand slowly snake around my hips, stopping on my stomach. His bicep flexes as he pulls me against his chest again. The back of my head is just level with his shoulders and I feel him bow down as the soft balaclava brushes against my hair. “His neck or his gut. Arms and legs won’t work, they’re not painful enough,” a shiver runs down my spine from his chilling words.

“They sound pretty painful,”

“Not enough. You need to do real damage,” the low vibrations of his voice against my skin makes the hair stand on the back of my neck. Ghost presses his fingers into the soft flesh between my hips and moves his hand back and forth in a straight line, tracing the vulnerable area. I can’t help the involuntary gasp that escapes my lips. “This is where you’ll aim. Drive the knife deep into his stomach and drag it across as far as you can. If he tries anything, I want you to spill his fucking intestines,” Ghost’s breathing deepens as he imagines the scene. His fingers press harder into my skin and some twisted part of me wants him to leave bruises, but not with his hands.

“Is that what you’d do?” the words are light on my tongue. Every part of my body he touches feels as though it’s about to combust.

“I will do so much fucking worse, y/n. When this is over and I get my hands on him, his own mother won’t recognize him. They’ll have to use his fucking teeth to identify him,” he growls. The pictures that flash through my mind are horrific. But some part of me likes it – knowing the extent that he is willing to go to for me.

There’s a palatable tension in the air. I can taste it: metallic and salty like iron. Like the desire for violence. Like the static before lightning strikes. I feel it radiating off him in waves that wash down between my shoulder blades. I believe every word from his mouth.

“Let’s try again,” I suggest, changing the topic.

Sweat rolls down my skin as we practise again and again for hours. Ghost lays out several different scenarios, from trapping me against the dresser to pinning me against the bed. He is relentless. But with every touch, every grab and push and shove and pull of hair, every time he presses himself against my hot skin, the desire to feel him in me grows even stronger. Sometimes I think he’s doing it on purpose. Because I know how much he likes to see his hands wrapped around my throat. And I know how he was filled with a jealous type of rage after that man had a knife pressed against the same spot. Every time Ghost’s hands pull me closer, it feels like I’m being reclaimed.

My heart pounds in my ears after so long without a break. When he pulls away after another round I finally collapse onto the floor, just for a moment, just to catch my breath. Ghost looks even taller from this spot as he watches me with his arms crossed.

“Get up,” he huffs, not nearly as out of breath as I am.

“In a moment,” even my voice sounds exhausted. My face is hot and I’m sure it’s flushed.

“I don’t want you lying on the floor,” Ghost grumbles. I feel the corner of my lips twitch at the thought that pops into my head.

“No?” I feign innocence. “How do you want me?”

“Watch your mouth y/n,” he snaps. Ghost steps around me to pace the room, but I don’t miss how he takes the opportunity to adjust his pants when he thinks I can’t see. A warm sense of pride blooms in my chest. He feels the same tension. The same desire as the night in the cabin. Maybe even stronger this time.

“I need to rest for a moment,” I lie my head on the floor while keeping eye contact with him. I can just see the edge of the black paint around his eyes, peeking out from under his mask.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got more in you than that,” there it is again. Sweetheart. I can’t even hide the effect it has on me. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from outright smiling. And it works. He has me up on my feet embarrassingly fast.

“Fine. Let’s go, I’ll win this time,” there’s fresh determination behind my words, but even I know they’re not true. I can tell he’s smirking by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. Ghost is enjoying this way too much. But I can’t lie, so do I. He knows.

Ghost comes at me fast. I know he’s holding back and yet his power is terrifying. He grabs me by the shoulders and whips me around toward the dresser. One of his hands tries to snatch away the knife, but I hold it just out of his grasp. Then he goes for my neck again as my back presses into the hard edge of the wooden dresser. Ghost is careful about the force he uses. He knows how easy it would be to seriously hurt me right now. His hands lightly hold my throat, just enough to immobilize me, but I know if this were any other man, I’d be in serious trouble right now.

With both hands occupied I take my chance and swing the knife toward his stomach. His eyes flicker down to watch the move. He still has time to stop me, yet his hands remain where they are. I let the tip of the knife gently drag across his shirt.

“You let me win,”

“It’s not ‘letting you win,’ it’s training you to take an opportunity when you have it,” Ghost’s eyes are back on mine, his hands still wrapped around my throat. He could’ve let go almost a minute ago and yet I feel his thumb gently rubbing up and down the tender skin just below my ear. “Besides, I was thinking about something else…” he trails off, a smug smile evident in his voice.

“And what’s that?”

“Places better than the floor,” Ghost keeps eye contact with me as he says this. I feel my stomach drop and that familiar ball of desire starts to form again.

“Better than the floor for what?” I furrow my brows in feigned confusion, but when he glances down my bottom lip is already drawn between my teeth. He knows he has me. There’s electricity in the air between us. Something magnetic simultaneously pulling us together, yet preventing us from connecting. I feel his hands twitch against my throat.

A low hum stems from his chest. “We could do this all night, sweetheart,” Ghost’s eyes darken. We’re close enough that I can see his pupils dilating and my reflection staring back at me in his eyes. I wonder what he sees as he looks at me.

“Yeah?” I murmur. “But we don’t have all night, do we? So, tell me what you want Simon,” my voice is low and seductive. Two can play this game. He pulls me closer. Our foreheads are almost touching as my hands find their place on the sides of his ribcage. The knife is still wrapped between my fingers.

“You already know what I want,” his voice deepens as his volume drops to a whisper. His scent wraps around me and reels me in. The metallic musk is warm and inviting. The scent of gunpowder no longer so alarming, but simply rather a part of him. But there’s something new about him too, something sweet and spicy that I can almost taste, that makes me want to wrap my lips around him and savour every part.

“I want you to show me,”

“I want to,” he barely whispers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” his grip tightens enough that I can start to feel the effects of his hands. My cheeks are flushed and my head feels lighter than before.

“I trust you. Then and now,” I run my hands up his strong arms before tracing the tip of the knife against the mask and along the outline of his lips. Ghost takes the blade from my hand and places it on the dresser behind me. A warm sensation spreads throughout my body as his hands travel down the side of my abdomen, past my hips and thighs, before wrapping around the back of them and heaving me up onto the sturdy surface.

“Are you sure about that?” Ghost asks as he rolls the bottom of his mask up and tucks it out of the way at his nose. My lower stomach turns to static as my eyes latch onto his lips. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip. I think about how soft they’d be as they glide across my own.

Ghost rubs the outside of my thighs as he presses himself between my legs. There’s that unmistakable twinge of desire from the soft pressure. It’s like every time I look at him, the sensation grows and clouds my better judgment. This is dangerous. Everything about him is dangerous. And yet he’s so alluring. When I stare into those dark eyes it feels like someone is draping a velvet curtain around me, completely blacking out the rest of the world. The only thing left, is him.

“Yes, sir,” I don’t hide the teasing smile that crosses my lips. I know how crazy it drives him to hear those words drip from my tongue. My hands travel across his broad chest as Ghost loops his arms around my back. His lips brush against mine tantalizingly slowly. I dwell on the sensation of his warm, damp skin moulding against my own. A fuzzy feeling encases me everywhere until I feel the familiar sharpness of his teeth skirting my bottom lip, revealing what he really wants.

He’s like a dog with a taste for blood. Once Ghost took my flesh between his teeth for the first time, he knew there was no going back. I feel that same hunger now as his sharp canines move from my lips to my neck. The serrated sensation is startling as he attaches his lips to the tender patch of skin just under my ear.

“Simon,” his name escapes as a breathy gasp. My mind starts to slip, but I can’t let him mark up my neck. “Not there.”

He hums against my throat, sending pleasurable sensations through every nerve. I want him to keep going so damn bad. But he can’t.

“He’ll see,” I can barely make out the words.

“Good,” Ghost mumbles against my skin.

“That can’t happen,”

“I know sweetheart,” he croons, slipping his hands under my shirt. “But you’ve no idea how much I want him to,”

“What?” I lift my arms as he slides the shirt over my head and drops it to the floor.

“When I think of those dirty fucker’s hands on you all I see is red. I want to bash his fucking head in until his skull is dust,” Ghost presses a delicate kiss to my collarbone with those vile lips. His hands gently caress my shoulder blades and run down my back, stopping at my bra strap. “If they knew you were mine, no man would dare touch you,” my lungs freeze from his words.

“Yours?” I ask and his head rises. Ghost’s hand leaves my back to cup my face. His charcoal eyes meet my own with an indescribable intensity. They’re incredibly dark and thrilling and full of desire. And there’s nothing like them - nothing like Ghost. The feeling he stirs within me is so unique, so completely irreplicable, that no other person will ever compare.

“My asset,” he rasps. “Mine,” his thumb brushes against my lips.

“Just your asset?” I already know his answer, but I want to hear the hushed words fall from his mouth.

“So much fucking more than an asset,” Ghost presses his lips against mine. I’ve witnessed the violence he’s capable of, so to feel him handle me with such a level of tenderness is all the more significant.

“Show me,” I whisper against his mouth. I feel the sharp breath he draws in and the accompanying hunger.

Ghost’s hands return to the back of my bra and skillfully release the clasp. I let the fabric slide off my shoulders, before dropping it to the ground. It’s almost as if I can physically feel his eyes rake down my body and take in the sight before him.

Ghost hands press against my back, arching me towards him as he bends over to attach his lips to my sensitive skin. I slide a hand up the back of his neck and under his balaclava and wind my fingers through his thick hair. The heat of his wet tongue glides around my nipple and goosebumps rise across my chest. Then I feel that familiar sharpness that causes my breath to hitch and I know he’s about to leave bruises. If anyone ever sees below the hem of my shirt, they will immediately know I’ve been marked - no, branded as his.

He revisits the faded hickeys from the night at the cabin while also adding to the growing collection. The large bruises from all those weeks ago have faded from my torso and legs. So, he paints over them with his own.

As Ghost works his way lower and lower, I reach for the neckline of his long-sleeve shirt and tug it upward.

“Use your words,” his cool breath fans against my hips.

“Please?” without answering me, Ghost pulls his shirt off in one swift motion, baring himself all to me. Last time the only light I had to see was from the glow of the fire. Now, every inch of ink, every freckle, and scratch and scar littering his upper body are exposed. Not a single mark diminishes his magnificence. And while his beauty is altered from war, he is more stunning than any man I’ve crossed paths with before. The power he holds is almost beyond comprehension. Time and time again he leaves me in utter awe.

My eyes drag across the artwork painfully etched into his skin as his lips tease even lower on my hips. The throbbing between my legs intensifies with anticipation. The pictures tattooed on him are a brutal reflection of the horrors he’s witnessed and committed - of the people he’s lost. Like some part of him was afraid of forgetting and this was the only he could ensure he’d remember. My hand is cold against his warm skin as I run it up his arm.

At the same time, he reaches for the button of my pants, unhooking it with just one finger. Careful eyes glance up for permission before sliding them down my legs. Then, he quickly loops a thumb around my underwear and pulls them down immediately after. Ghost rests on his knees as his arms wrap around my thighs and pull me to the edge of the dresser.

The warmth of his lips lightly brushes over the faded bruises on my inner thighs and just when I think he’s about to add more, I feel the heat move up between my legs and press hard against my clit. The mask and black paint frame his eyes as he peers up through my legs with a half-drunken gaze.

“So fucking wet already,” his deep voice vibrates against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Is that all for me, Sweetheart?”

“Yes sir,” the words escape as a whimper. He has me wrapped entirely around his finger. In this moment I would do anything for him. Anything just to feel him touch me, to feel him pulse inside me with as much need as I have for him.

“Atta girl,” Ghost hums and then presses his tongue against my clit in wavelike motions. The pleasure from his movements consumes me as my head is thrown back and I gasp for air. “Look at me, sweetheart. I’ll stop if you don’t look,” and when I do, every feeling intensifies even more.

Ghost traces a wet finger around my entrance before slipping it in as his tongue continues to work in circles. He gently teases another finger before adding it as well, slowly stretching me even more. Simon worries about all the ways he could hurt me; thinks of all the reasons he shouldn’t be trusted and yet I’ve never had someone take the care he does to make me feel so damn good.

The waves of pleasure coursing through my body intensify as he picks up pace.

“Simon,” I plead. “I-I’m close,” the words feel like prayers on my tongue and only one god can answer them.

My knuckles whiten as my hands desperately grip the edges of the dresser. He curls his fingers and hits that perfect spot. Tremors travel through my legs and I feel myself climbing closer and closer.

Simon presses his other hand onto my stomach and adds to the thrilling sensation even more. His starving eyes never leave mine. The vibrations of his soft groans against my very core are almost enough to send me over the edge.

The waves of pleasure grow stronger and the only things I can focus on are those reflective pools of desire. The rest of the world blurs and all that matters is him.

Simon’s fingers curl against me again and every muscle in my body tightens all at once before simultaneously releasing. Yet he doesn’t stop. Even when my legs latch around him and cage him in as I ride my high, he doesn’t stop.

My heart races and with every breath I take, the air feels cleaner, purer. My head feels lighter and a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And as my body relaxes, Simon stands from his knees. His forearm brushes against my bare chest as his hand wraps around the back of my head and his lips press into mine. I can taste myself dripping from his mouth.

“You’re mine,” Simon murmurs against my skin. The addictive spice of his cologne fills the air. It lingers closer to the nape of his neck and mixes with the heat of his skin.

“Yours,” I confirm. As he pulls away, there’s something different about his eyes, something undeniably possessive.

Simon wraps his arms under my thighs and lifts me up with ease as my legs wrap around his back. My hands rest between his neck and shoulders. I let my gaze drop to the section of his tattoo that covers his shoulder and half his chest. There’s a collage of objects and events, a line of barbed wire seemingly wrapped around a man in a field. The sudden feeling of falling overtakes my senses and my entire body tenses as my back lands against the mattress.

His hands are still wrapped around my legs as he towers over the bed.

“Fucking hell,” Simon muses to himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

I feel that familiar pit in my stomach as he reaches for his belt. The quiet, clinking sound of metal fills the room and my heart rate starts to pick up. The tension in my lower stomach grows again as he moves to undo his pants and smoothly steps out of them.

I never thought I would enjoy allowing someone to have so much control over me. But as he stands over me and climbs onto the bed with a definitive goal in mind, I am willing to submit to whatever he wants.

The heat of his legs spreads to my sides as he straddles my waist. Simon has all the power in the world over me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Soft hands rest against his thick thighs as he considers the expression on my face. Wild hair frames my flushed cheeks. My lips are chapped as I draw them between my teeth at the sight of him. As his eyes continue down my frame, they proudly skirt across the marks garnishing my chest, past my hips, until he finally lingers on my hands gently rubbing circles into his meaty flesh.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Simon’s head tilts as he asks this. He grabs the tops of my hands and leads them up his thighs.

“I’ve a few ideas,” my voice cracks as I speak. I almost feel nervous again. As we reach the hem of his underwear, he slows but doesn’t stop.

“Every day,” his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “After every meeting with you, every time you grab my arm or whisper my name or look at me with those fucking eyes, this is what you do to me y/n,” he places my hands over the large bulge in his underwear.

I feel him throb under my hands as he strains against the fabric, aching to be freed.

“Every day I wrap my hand around my cock and imagine it’s yours,” Simon holds my hands in place as his hips subconsciously grind against the friction. “I think about what you felt like wrapped around me that night,” his voice is thick with desire. I feel myself gripping tighter as I long for his touch against my feverish skin. “No one’s ever done that to me before, y/n.”

“Simon,” my voice is unsteady. His eyes flicker up from our hands. “I need you.”

He leans down and cages me in with both arms, yet my hand never leaves his pulsing length. Simon’s breathing deepens as I stroke him above his boxers. He pauses, searching my eyes for something I’ll never understand. When our swollen lips meet and his tongue brushes against mine, I slip my fingers just past the band of his underwear. A low growl vibrates through his chest as my hand inches closer and finally grasps him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans as I pump his cock in my hand. The needy sounds escaping from his chest make me want him even more. As I trace my thumb around the head of his cock he starts to grind against my hand. “y/n.”

Simon grabs himself and slides his length along my entrance. I revel in the feeling of being trapped under him.

“Please Simon,” I whine as he teases me back and forth. The need to feel him is overwhelming. Fuck, he’s all I can think about.

“Look at me sweetheart,” Simon mumbles and as our eyes meet, I feel him push his throbbing tip in. “Does that feel good?” he whispers.

There’s a distinct tightness as he stretches me out perfectly around himself. Already I feel my walls clenching around him and he hasn’t even started thrusting. Simon slowly adds more length. He bites his bottom lip as he watches my expressions. He revels in knowing how feral he makes me.

“Oh, fuck,” the breathless words graze my lips. So damn good. Every small movement sends jolts of pleasure through my core.

Simon grabs my waist with his hands and starts to pick up speed. Each thrust feels like he’s reaching deeper within. And every time he hits that tiny bundle of nerves and I clench even tighter around him I feel like we grow even closer.

The muscles in his back flex as I wrap my legs around the vast space and pull him closer. My hands grasp his forearms cemented into the bed beside my head. My fingers and knuckles turn white from holding onto him so tight as his thrusts grow harder and harder. Fuck is he thrusting hard. Each stroke is so damn powerful that I can’t help the whines and whimpers that echo throughout the room.

As his intensity grows, so does the volume of my cries. Until a large hand wraps itself around my mouth and stifles the sounds. “Shh, can’t have anyone hear how good I make you feel,” Simon’s hot breath brushes against my ear.

His quiet grunts fill my ears as he picks up his pace even faster and he bows his head to the crook of my neck.

Every nerve in my body is overwhelmed with pleasure. His compelling scent fills my lungs. His desperate sounds reverberate through my ears. The pressure and friction of his body against mine are all too much.

I already feel another high coming.

Simon’s fiery lips latch onto my collarbones. As his head is bowed, I slip my hand behind the mask and feel his thick hair between my fingers. It's every small detail about him that drives me over the edge. His heavy breathing. How his hand presses hard against my mouth to stifle my moans. How hot his skin is against my own. Beneath my fingers, he feels so real.

Every thrust strokes that perfect spot so deep within me. I slip a hand between my legs and circle my clit. Behind my eyelids, stars explode with pleasure. I try and tell him how close I am, but the words don’t make it past his hand.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he moans into my ear. “I know you’re close,” Simon’s lips press against my ear. His sharp teeth gently tug at my lobe. Despite his hand, my moans grow even louder. He maintains a steady, powerful pace that rocks the bedframe and stirs my soul.

My hand circles around myself even faster to keep up with him. Every muscle in my body grows tenser and tenser. Inching closer and closer to a complete release.

I so badly want to close my eyes, but I know if I look away from him now, he’ll stop. I feel them well wet with tears from how fucking intense he makes me feel. The rest of his room, the base, and the world all disappear. All that matters is him. All I need is him. Simon. Fucking hell, Simon. My vision blurs and my walls tense harder than ever before.

Stars explode behind my vision as I stare into his eyes and I feel like I can reach out and touch his soul. White light blinds my vision and I feel my entire body freeze like I’ve been possessed by something otherworldly. Everything releases all at once and I ride the waves of pleasure that course through my bones. Simon replaces his hand with his swollen lips.

“You did so good sweetheart,” he rasps. But I know his mind is elsewhere right now. I sense how rock-hard he is in me. How his cock throbs with every thrust. I know he needs this as much as I did. How desperate he’s feeling right now.

“Don’t hold back, Simon,” I whisper into his ear. He pulls his head back to look me in the eyes. Being intimate with him has taught me just how much he values eye contact. This is how he connects. It’s not about sex, it’s about vulnerability. And this is a state he doesn’t let others see him in. Whether he’ll admit it or not, he trusts me.

I stroke his jaw and lock my legs around his waist as he quickens his pace. His breathing deepens and his hands tighten around my waist as he uses me as leverage to thrust even faster.

His lips part as quiet grunts and moans work their way through his chest. The soft sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. My walls clench around him. After my second, high every part of my body is even more sensitive. Feeling him inside me is borderline painful, but watching the look in his eyes is all that matters.

Simon’s thrusts begin to falter. His chest brushes against my breasts as he leans down and brings himself closer. His hands move to cup my face as his eyes bore into my heart. One last desperate moan escapes his lips as he presses his forehead into mine. He pulls out and finishes on the duvet before collapsing directly on top of me.

“Fucking hell, y/n” he mumbles into my neck. My hands wrap around his broad back and rest there as we both catch our breath. “You’re something else.”

A comfortable silence settles over us in the moments afterward. Simon gives me a Henley to wear and slips on his pants before settling back on the bed. His hands gently wind themselves through my hair as I lean against his chest.

I expect him to pull the balaclava back down almost immediately like he did last time. But he doesn’t. Simon leaves the fabric rolled up and his jaw exposed. As he rests his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, I gently trace my fingers along the sharp feature and down his neck.

My mind drifts to all the possible reasons why he wears it all the time. Why none of his soldiers know what he looks like. Why even after being so vulnerable with me, he choses to keep it on. But I won’t ask. I know if I’m ever going to find out it’ll be because he feels the time is right. But I don’t think I’ll ever find out. Because I don’t think I’ll know him long enough.

The time on his watch reads 17:04. There’s just under an hour before I have to be back in my room.

The soothing motion of his hand brushing along my hair is almost enough for me to dose off. His breathing is slow and even. His heart thunders strong and healthy behind his ribcage. There’s something so sure about him. Something safe.

“Simon?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you read to me?” I think of his copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that I skimmed across the other day. About the story of a boy who escapes an abusive childhood. Who finds freedom. And I wonder if he sees himself in the story. If he feels like he escaped.

“Would you like me to?” his low voice almost sounds tired.

“I would.”

He sighs as he reaches for the old beat-up book. Simon flips the worn pages open to a dogeared spot just over halfway through. He clears his voice and then pulls me further up his chest so his arms can wrap around my waist and hold the novel at the same time.

Simon’s voice is quiet and thick and comforting as he starts at the top of the page. I don’t know what events led here, but the characters sound troubled. My entire body relaxes and wishes we could stay like this forever. The looming threat of returning to my own room hangs over my shoulders, yet I try my best to push it away. Instead, I focus on the feeling of his warm skin against my cheek. Of the strength of his heart. I allow it to lull me almost, but not quite asleep.

“I couldn’t bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn’t think about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the wrist,” Simon slowly reads the pages, leaving himself time to picture the scene.

My head moves with his chest as he breathes deeply. He’s like an anchor, holding me here, keeping me safe as the storm wages on around us.

His words fade and the room gets darker and darker.

When I wake up, I recognize my quarters.

And I recognize the looming shadow. His husky hand wraps around my wrist and demands my attention.

But this time, I’m expecting him.

1K notes · View notes

riverbutghost · 11 months ago

Text

Drunk In Love

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Trope: ❛ people get hurt if they get too close to me. ❜

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy in the end, getting shot, military stuff etc.

since non of ya’ll send requests, I did a request for myself💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃

You were scared. Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear the sound of it.

“Sir, I need to speak with you.”

Your voice cracked at the end, making Ghost spin around in his chair. His eyes looked tired and distant, his desk was full of papers.

“Is it urgent? I’m kinda busy right now,”

There was a lump forming in your throat. Since that day, he didn’t speak to you for even a second. He was cold, distant. You saw him from a far only.

One time, you were back on your feet and wanted to match with him on your first practice after… yeah.

And he said you were weak, you looked weak and he chose another rookie to train with.

You remembered feeling so exhausted after the training, your head swaying and your ribs aching after getting an accidental punch to your side. Gaz apologized profusely, but you didn’t mind it.

Ghost was the one who minded it, though.

He gave Gaz a hard punishment, he made you go to the nurse and never train again for two weeks. You cried a little that day, you felt like a garbage after all. Like a toddler who was always in trouble.

“Uhm,”

He sighed and turned around, leaving you all hurt and confused again.

“I don’t have time for this.”

You sucked your bottom lip, feeling every ounce of pain from his words.

You got out, your mood souring immediately.

“Ghost, let them look.”

Price’ voice was gentle, like he was trying not to scare the animal.

His whole body trembled as the doctors forcefully took you out of his arms, your body weak and eyes shut as they hurriedly took care of your wounds.

He couldn’t help the twitch of his hands, his mind wandering off to things that made him choke on his spit.

He still got nauseous from that day. You were bleeding in his arms, your bright and shiny eyes were closed and your heartbeat was slow.

He gripped the pen tightly, his breathing slowly getting worse.

“fuck..”

He mumbled and got up, taking his mask off and locking the door.

He started breathing in and out, the tightness in his lungs started fading away.

“Hey lass, why you lookin’ like that?”

Soap pointed to his face as he sat down next to you.

“Your fuckin’ lieutenant is giving me a massive headache!”

Soap looked as shocked as you were at your outburst.

“Uhmm, well Gaz is calling for me,”

He got up and sprinted out of the room, making you feel a lot worse than before. Nobody wanted you. You were going to ugly cry.

You didn’t want to cry but it was hard to hold the tears.

“Sergeant, in my room. Now.”

As tears gathered in your eyes, you heard your stone faced lieutenant’s voice. No, you wanted to say. But he was your superior.

You shakily got up and turned around. He didn’t even wait for you.

With quick and steady steps, you knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

Without making eye contact, you sat down on the chair.

“Yes sir?”

Simon inspected you, the redness of your eyes and the puffiness of your mouth.

“You cried.”

A shocking wave swept through your body, a gasp left your mouth.

“No-“

“Don’t lie to me, soldier. Why did you cry? Who, made you cry?”

You wanted to laugh, the audacity of this man.

“You did.”

Simon’s face hardened with the way you looked at him, so sharp and beautiful.

“Did my words hurt you?”

Your gaze fell to your lap. Simon felt his chest tighten as he saw a tear forming on your eye.

“I apologize. You have to understand that I am your lieutenant, you can’t get hurt by my words.”

You shook your head.

“You changed, Simon.”

Simon clenched his jaw, a weird feeling crushed down on his chest.

He whispered your name.

“I don’t want this.”

He shook his head, a panicked breath leaving his mouth.

“Whatever you’re thinking will never happen. You and I both know that, love.”

You licked your lips and his attention was drawn on you.

“No, all i know is that I want you.”

Simon sighed, suddenly feeling too hot under the mask.

“I don’t.”

A sharp pain formed in your belly, feeling like a fool all of a sudden.

“Tell me, Simon. Spit it on my face, do you want me? If you don’t, I’ll never speak to you other than business. I promise.”

Simon thought for a moment. Did he really want you gone? No, he needed you to be healthy after that day. But he could still look at you from far away, he wanted that right?

��People get hurt if they get too close to me.”

Your face softened, realizing that this was hard for him. When you opened your mouth to soothe him he cut you off.

“Fuck it, I do want you. In my arms, bed, everywhere.”

Relief washed over you. Simon suddenly stood up, taking his mask off. You saw his face before but this time, it felt more intimate.

You got up as well, taking slow steps towards him.

“Kiss me, then.”

Simon’s throat bobbled as he swallowed his nerves. His hands shot out to hold your body against his as he pressed his scarred lips against yours, feeling the soft warmth of them.

He still wasn’t sure of whatever you two were beginning to do, but he realized that he was too old and life was too short. He kissed you deeply, like a hungry wolf, memorizing the way your lips felt against his.

You moaned as his hand went up to your breasts, gasping at his sudden change of behavior.

Let’s say that, Simon and you had the other day sleeping in.

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orgasming-caterpillar · 6 months ago

Text

And It's Too Cold//It's Too Cold

Songfic Based On: Sweater Weather, The NBHF

Nico was in the cooldown room when it happened. Towel in hand, he was wiping the cold droplets trickling down his torso when Lewis burst open the door. (They didn't even use the cooldown room at the same time anymore.)

“Nico.”

The name left his teammate's mouth for the first time in weeks. Nico's throat didn't have to tighten like that— he wasn't going to speak anyway.

“I need to talk to you,” Lewis said, something desperate in his voice that Nico wasn't sure was real.

All I am is a man

Nico’s words were careful, deliberately stern. “What do you want, Lewis?”

I want the world in my hands

“To talk to you- about the race.” Abu Dhabi. 2016. “You won. Congratulations. I still won the championship.”

That seemed to snap something inside Lewis. In a swift motion, he lunged at Nico. But his childhood friend was much too familiar with his tactics, he knew about his speedy attacks and had swift reflexes to match. All those teenage years spent wrestling on hotel beds weren't for nothing.

“I don't fucking care!” Lewis shouted, his collar grasped in Nico's hands, Nico pushed all up against the wall. “I don't fucking care that I won the race!”

“You seemed to care a fuck lot about it on the track, mate,” Nico spat.

Lewis jerked his shoulders, hitting his head on the wall in the process. “Why can't you see, Nico?! Why can't you understand? I can't take this anymore.”

I hate the beach

But I stand in California with my toes in the sand

“Take what, Lewis? Because all I've been doing this year is take and take and fucking take. You haven't taken shit compared to what you've put me through.” His eyes were burning now. He needed Lewis out of here.

“I can't take this— you pretending I don't exist. I will take the accidents and the crashes and the goddamn fistfights, but I can't,” —his voice broke, eyes welling up, and Nico had the urge to wipe them before any tears fell— “I can't take this, Nico.”

Use the sleeves of my sweater

“You really think you're the only one suffering? How self centred, how typical of you, Lewis.”

Let's have an adventure

“...What?”

“You think this doesn't hurt me? this non stop fighting and competition, and never making up? Open your fucking eyes. I don't like this any more than you do.”

Lewis' hands dropped from his shoulders, chest heaving. The air between them was electric, too dangerous to breathe in.

Head in the clouds but my gravity centered

“Then why do you do it?” It was the smallest voice Nico had ever heard.

Because it's better than admitting the truth. Because it has less consequences than saying 'I love you.' “Because you started it.”

Touch my neck and I'll touch yours

Dark eyes trailed from his wet hair to the damn skin of his torso, not in a lewd way, but like a man recalling all that he has to lose. When he looked back up, there was a hope in his eyes that Nico couldn't bear looking at. “And will you stop if I stop?”

You in those little high waisted shorts, oh

This was a terrible idea from the beginning. The Karting, the trip to Greece, the ride-or-die friendship, all of it— terrible.

Oh, she knows what I think about

“Stop fucking thinking so much, Nico, it can't get worse than this.”

It really couldn't.

And what I think about

The answer came in the form of a desperate hand grabbing the back of Lewis’ head to bring him closer.

It was a gunshot, the way their lips met each other's. It was the sweet shock of love after a lifetime of yearning. It was like their first sip of too-strong whiskey at fourteen, knowing they've crossed a line they can never go back to.

One love, two mouths

Lewis’ surprise melted into eagerness in a split second. Nico tilted his head and grabbed his bicep. Lewis had grabbed Nico's face with both hands like he was something dear and precious.

It really was a terrible idea, and nothing could ever fix it; but if they were going to burn they'd go down singing in the flames.

One love, one house

“Take off your shirt,” he grunted. Lewis obeyed.

Smooth brown skin burned under Nico's freezing palms. He grabbed a handful of the pecs, moaning into the kiss.

No shirt, no blouse

“Is this—” Lewis pushed him away. God give him dignity, Nico almost whined. “Is this a confession thing? Or a goodbye thing? Because I have no idea what I'll do with a goodbye fuck.”

Just us, you find out

Nico had no idea either. He didn't want to leave Lewis. But for now, the only thing on his mind was the throbbing heart under his hand. They were here. ‘Leaving’ seemed like something out of a hazy dream. “I don't know.”

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no

Lewis had this look on his face— like he wanted to run away but his feet wouldn't take him. Nico wanted to tell him that there was nothing he could have done to change anything. There was nothing that could have ended up with them anywhere other than where they are. He didn't say anything.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Do you really? Or is this another game?” Yes, Nico wanted to yell. He knew what Hamilton was asking. 'Do you really love me?’ and he wanted to yell, Yes, yes, yes. I do love you. I do. I'm sorry. All he could do was nod.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Lewis put a hand on his cheek, kissing him again. Only this time it was so much more gentle, yet hurt so much more. Somewhere in his subconscious Lewis seemed to have realised that this was probably the first and last time they will ever do this; and he did it like he wanted to remember.

And if I may just take your breath away

There was so much Nico wanted to say, and he couldn't say any of it. He wanted to scream.

We will never be the same again, he wanted to say. I will never love another like you. A moan. You've destroyed all that I was. A sigh. Do not destroy what I am. Hands caressed his body, so soft it was painful. Build me a pyre, and I'll still whisper your name as I burn. A prayer. I love y—

“How do you want this?” Lewis whispered, hands working him out of his pants.

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Nico grabbed his shoulders, using the stability of Lewis’ hands on his thighs to wrap his legs around his waist. He relished in the way Lewis groaned, he would never hear it ever again.

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

Lewis was gentle, so gentle. They both loved like an ocean. With Nico it was a tsunami; desire coursing through his veins as he groped, wrecked, swallowed everything that came in his way. And with Lewis it was this; sweet, gentle and relentless like moonlit waves in the darkest hours of the night. What choice did either have but to drown?

The goosebumps start to raise

“More,” he whimpered, arching his back against the wall. The soft gaze with which Lewis was watching him was more violent than any fistfight they've ever had.

And then I watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah

It hurt— even with how tender Lewis was being. Maybe more so because of that. He harshened the pace at Nico's request, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Their hearts beat in sync, thudding against the ribcages pressed together.

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Strangling begins with holding. Cannibalism begins with a kiss. They both bring grief and hurt and madness; what is love if not just tender violence?

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour

He reached the peak of his pleasure first, spilling onto their abdomens. Lewis followed right after.

Coming down

One love, two mouths

They stayed like that for a while; chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, hearts broken like the promises they made at fourteen.

One love, one house

No shirt, no blouse

“Don't leave me, Nico.”

Just us, you find out

Why do you speak to me and why do I try to understand? he thought. We no longer speak the same language.

Not a word was uttered.

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no, no, no

“We can fix this.” That damned hope.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Put me down,” was what Nico chose to say. Lewis did, searching his face desperately for an answer.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Nico picked his pants off the floor, pulling them on without another word. Lewis spared them both the pain and stayed silent as well.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

He was wiping his torso with a spare towel when Lewis finally spoke.

“You promised, Nico.”

Nico looked at him, no longer caring about the wet streaks on his cheeks. “We made a lot of stupid promises.”

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“You said we'd race together. Forever. You said you wouldn't race without me. Then why should I?”

Wasn't forever such a sweet lie? It wasn't nearly as long as people thought it was.

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“I'm leaving racing for good, Lewis.”

And it's too cold, it's too cold

Lewis was silent for what seemed like hours. “I love you.”

With a single whispered phrase, Nico shut the door behind him. “It'll pass.”

The holes of my sweater…

#f1 fic #f1 ships #f1 rpf fic #brocedes #lewis hamilton x nico rosberg #sunshine and britney #madhav ke lekh #brocedes angst #brocedes smut #formula 1 #formula one #f1

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

Tears from Dreams and Memories

Cross-posted from AO3, check out the tags over there but reader beware. I kill everyone in this little one-shot, and if I don't kill them they wish they were dead.

Check those tags out here.

Seriously, if you didn't check out the tags I kill everyone or they wish they were dead. Readers beware

You shouldn’t be running down the halls of the base. You know you shouldn’t be running. But fuck all if they weren’t right on your heels. The men had come back on base drunk and the creepy ones had searched you out. You choked down the sobs that threatened to escape. If you could just get far enough away you might be ab—

You slam into something hard. You had taken the corner fast, a hand still behind you on the wall to help you pivot. You look up, and up, and up. A hard skull mask stares down at you. Blackout paint hides everything beyond the whites of his eyes.

Maniacal laughter starts up from behind you. You can’t stop the flinch that wracks your body. Shifting you aim for the pocket of space between the man and the wall, your socks shift ever so slightly against the inside of your boots. His hand shoots out, grasping your arm before you pass him.

“Wait.”

The tone reeked of a command. No one gave commands on a base like this unless they knew they had the authority to back up the demand. The thump of steps against the thin carpet has you letting out a high-pitched keen and pulling against the bear paw holding you in place.

“Please, please, please let me go.” You barely understand the words tripping off your tongue.

Barbed wire is wrapped around your spine, it pulls tight when two men appear at the end of the hall.

“Ho ho! You found her! Our friend here owes us a good time tonight for bailing on drinks off base.” The blond sways only in his eyes, shifting over your breasts and ass.

The man with the black hair just leers, it’s almost worse.

The man holding you makes no move to let you go or tell off the men who followed you over half of the base for their ‘fun’. A change in the air occurs, a pin of a grenade hitting the dirt.

The hand on your arm tightens. The British accent surprises you, the base had been briefed that a unit on loan from the UK would be joining them for a few months. The line repeated to every man and woman below a certain rank is to leave them alone and if you have any questions submit them to the liasons.

“Get back to your rooms, you have two seconds to get out of my sight or I will be having a chat with your base commander in the morning.”

They gape at skull man, their drunk minds stumbling trying to catch up.

“What?” The blond questions.

“One.”

Both men start to back up, the menace in that single word tightens around your throat. You escaped two predators only to land with a stronger one.

“Tw—”

The soldiers take off, the threat finally process past the alcohol. You pinwheel your arm as their boots disappear behind the corner. You break free of the grip on your arm and start forward away from this new evil. One step is all you can take before arms wrap tight around your chest. He caught your arms too, fingers dangling by your thighs.

All the fight in your body leaves, your brain deciding to there is no escape. Your head rolls forward, you don’t even have the energy to blink.

When you position changes your mind starts recording new memories. Looking around you find yourself on a chair in the kitchen connected to the mess hall. The beast of a man stands in front of you slowly adding hot water to a cup. Your breaths pick up speed, fingers curling on the edge of the chair.

Skull face turns and drops a knee in front of you. He looms close but doesn’t touch any part of you.

“None of that now, I am not here to hurt you. We are just having some tea and then I will walk you to your room.” He speaks with a slow tone, as if coaxing a feral cat from beneath a car.

You can’t tell where is accent is from, England for sure but not the common one associated with the country in your mind.

“I..I…I don’t..don’t…like tea.” You stutter at him.

You see his brows draw down despite the mask.

“Well I will give you a warm cup to hold while I drink my tea then.” His voice is deep as it should be with the breadth of his shoulders.

He stays on his knee, looking you over until at some point known only to him, he stands. He removes the tea bag from both cups. He adds a splash of milk to both cups and an ungodly amount of sugar. He gives both a quick mix and hands you one. He pops a hip on the stainless steel counter. He’s so damn tall he has his left foot flat on the floor and and still comfortably sit on the counter his right foot swaying slightly.

“Can you even,” deep shuddering breath, “call that tea with how much sugar it in it?”

“Can’t call it anything if you don’t try it,” he slips a finger below his mask lifting it enough to fit the mug to his mouth. He wears gloves too.

Once the mask cleared the edge of his jaw you slam your head down. You stare at the tea, the milk slowly swirling into water. You turn away and take a sip. The idea of milk and water as a drink still didn’t compute but the sugar masked any issues you might have had.

You sip at the drink finishing only about half when the sounds of movement bring your head back to the scary man in the room with you. His hand is stretched out to you. Glancing up and down it you slowly place your cup in his hand. You don’t feel so adrift after the quiet company.

You stand, awkwardly holding your elbows while he rinses the cups and spoon, leaving them in the empty sink. When he turns back to you he motions with his fingers for you to head out of the kitchen. You do as instructed. He picks up the chair on his way out. You hold open the swinging door, manners ingrained from childhood. He nods his thanks, tucking the chair just so below the table.

You don’t move until he looks at you. You let the door swing shut and begin to lead the way back to your room. Once you clear the doors of the mess hall he falls into step with you. You walk the brightly lit halls, walls dotted with darkness for windows. He remains a steady presence at your side until you stop in front of a door that looks exactly like the others.

“Thank you for your help,” you stare at your boots, curling your toes inside your them.

“Lock your door tonight.”

With that final command he turns and walks away. You don’t know where the UK team is staying but it is nowhere near the dorms you slept in. You do as instructed, locking the door behind you after you confirm that your roommate is already in bed, snoring lightly. Sleep comes slowly, a skull mask haunting you behind your eyelids.

✮✮✮

Price stares down at his tea, blinking slowly. He sat in an empty officers room. The base commander was courting the 141. He had yet to come out with the goal of this collaboration. He wonders absently if a tip of a flask would make the morning meetings easier to handle.

A file is slapped down on the table in front of him. Ghost sits down, a seat between them.

“I want this one.”

Price blinks at the file, his cup, and then finally his lieutenant.

“It is to early for this. Speak clearly. What do you want?”

In lieu of answering Ghost reaches over and flips open the folder. It’s a personnel file. A neutral faced woman stares out at him from the small photo.

“I am not helping you get a girlfriend, Ghost.”

His joke doesn’t land. Ghost snatches the mug of tea from his hand.

“Don’t be crass, I hate the team the base commander has given us to work with. I want this one.”

“You want a soldier right out basic who knows next to nothing about this base and has probably never even met the commander to be our new point of contact?” Price can’t keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Ghost slurps at the tea. Price sighs and massages right above his eyebrows. This would be a hard sell to the base commander.

“I’ll see what I can do, now get the fuck out of my face. I don’t want to see you until lunch.”

✮✮✮

The wrinkles on the base commanders face absorbed light like a black hole. Price stood before the man’s desk, face neutral.

“You want to change from the team of our hand chosen soldiers to accommodate any need you have on base for a baby? Am I understanding that right?” He flipped through the file Ghost had dropped on the table just this morning.

“My lieutenant has a tendency to eat anyone he doesn’t tolerate.”

“He eats people?” the commander cut in.

“I have no confirmation of if he actually eats people, commander, only that he will chew through any team you give him until they all beg for reassignment. To avoid that strain on your teams I am asking that you give us this one soldier who has been requested.” Price lays the facts out reasonably, tone hinting that the commander would be an idiot to ignore this request.

“How did they even meet? We have strict orders for most of our people to not interact with your team at all,” he tossed down the file on this desk.

“I tend not to ask questions that will only result in a dead eyed stare. He won’t tell me even if I asked, I’ve learned to roll with what he gives me.”

The commander steeples his fingers, elbows resting on the arms of his office chair. Price noted the power move but was more concerned about what the mess hall would be serving for lunch. He wondered if he could put in a request of a clam chowder, the warm creamy soup would hit the spot.

“Alright, I will reassign your current team and give you this one soldier. The paperwork should be done by dinner. I will have her also move to your section as she will need to be on hand for your team.” The commander leaned back in his chair, “Is there anything else your team needs right now, Captain Price?”

“No sir, everything has been satisfactory. I have a few things to finish up, I will see you at the 1100 meeting.” Price extracts himself from the commander’s office, closing the door behind him.

Soap pushed off the wall falling into step.

“So we getting a new aide? Because Ghost requested one?” He grousued. “Ghost who would have bit the aide from the last base if it didn’t mean removing his mask?”

Price smirked, “In all fairness that man was an areshole.”

“Aye he was, but why the request?” Soap pushed open the door they had come to. They were near the training grounds.

“Don’t know Soap. Why don’t we find out?” Price aimed for someone who looked to be in charge.

✮✮✮

You pause, looking around. You were almost sure that someone had just called for you. You look around and see a man waving you down from the edge of the training area. You check that you are clear to cross before jogging over.

“Good, come with me.”

You follow. When you finally slow you are presented to two men. They had to be members of the 141 with skull face. One man, taller than you but not by much kept a trimmed beard, crows feet around his eyes. The other man towered over you, almost as tall as skull face, the mohawk added several inches to his height.

“This the recruit you were looking for?” The man who walked you over pointed a thumb in your direction.

“Think so,” bearded man said. He stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet you, you can call me Price.”

You shake his hand, twice up and down with a firm pressure. You had to learn to ‘shake like a man’.

Mohawk man sticks out his hand next, “Soap.”

You shake his hand and nod, turning back to the man who walked you over.

“Is that all, sir? All of us low ranking members have standing orders to not speak to any of the 141,” you infuse your words with a ‘I’m just doing my job’ tone.

Soap snorts out a laugh, covering it poorly with a cough into his fist.

The man before you stutters before Price jumps in.

“Thank you, that will be all.” He can’t help but smile as you nod and turn on your heel heading back to your task.

As you are walking away you hear Soap’s comment.

“I can see why ‘e wants her, much more spunk there than anywhere else on this base.”

✮✮✮

The news comes down the line of your reassignment to become the sole attendant of the 141. You scarf down dinner, they wanted you presented to the team at 1800. You speed walk to your room, the clock showing a measly twenty minutes to pack your life up to move halfway across base.

You make it, squeaking through the door exactly the time you were requested. The base commander stands, hands tucked in one another behind his low back. He stands looking out the window over a group of training soldiers.

He ignores your presence for a moment before turning towards you.

“Ah, come in. We have a few things to discuss before I introduce you to the team. One question before we start, do you know why you were requested to be our liaison?”

You answer honestly, “Sir, I have not even a singular idea as to why.”

He hums, “We need this to go well. We need to borrow from the 141 from time to time and can only do that if they agree. Your job is to do whatever is needed to secure their agreement.”

Your stomach turns sour at the word choice, do whatever is needed. The military is no different than a pimp, only difference is one gets cheers and free meals at IHOP.

“Of course, sir, I will do my best.”

��Good, now here is what you need to know…”

The meeting takes another twenty minutes, your brain a bit fried when you lift your bag to follow the commander.

You take stock of the nicer flooring and art as you enter the building just beside the commanders. He lived on base since his wife passed nearly a year ago. You enter a room, you would still call it a living room despite all the time in the military.

Soap and a man you haven’t seen sit on the couch intently focused on their game of Mario Kart. They raced along the Rainbow Road. Price and skull face sat at a table near the wall. Price worked away on a laptop and skull face held an e-reader. A fifth man reclined in a chair near Soap, clearly asleep. Feet spread wide, head tipped across the back of the chair, an arm thrown over his eyes.

“This is where you will be staying. Captain Price will be in charge of you until they leave in a few months time. I will leave the introductions of the team to him.” The commander claps a hand on your shoulder, knocking you forward a step.

Price looks up at the motion, pulling a small headphone from his ear.

“Ah, Commander. Thank you for delivering our new aide, we will take good care of her.” He stood, striding over and offering a hand again.

You shake it again, focused on the retreating sounds of the commander. Once the door clicks behind him you feel the tension release slightly from you shoulders.

“Welcome, lets get you introduced to everyone and then get you settled.” Price smiled at you warmly, the crows feet showing it to be a common state for him. “You’ve met Soap, next to him is Gaz.”

Neither man acknowledges their name, to focused on the game. They are on their third lap, neck and neck for the lead. Gaz drops back slightly and throws a blue shell, effectively taking first. Soap jumps to his feet, shouting.

“You feckin’ cheatin’ son of a whore! Not even mother Mary will save you after this!” His accent came out thick in his anger.

Gaz just laughed as he crossed the finish line. Soap rolled in at fifth. With their outburst done Price continues his introductions.

“The sleeping man is Roach, he doesn’t speak much so don’t worry if he doesn’t respond to you. And then we have our L.T., Ghost,” Price gestures to the masked man.

You can’t stop the words. They escape, your brain slowing down the embarrassment to exacerbate the stress.

“Ghosts don’t have bones.” Such a matter of fact tone. Fuck a duck, why are you like this?

Ghost stands. You swallow hard. He clears the space between you in three long strides. Mother-fucking giant of a man.

“What?”

He asks as if he hadn’t heard, not as if he were offended.

You roll your lips between your teeth, answering a bit louder despite his now closer position.

“Ghosts don’t have bones, so your mask is a bit of a silly choice.”

Every man awake busts into laughter except Ghost. You glance over and Gaz is hanging off Soap, struggling to breathe. Soap is curled forward hugging his stomach. Price smothers a chuckle next to you.

You look back at Ghost, his eyes squint slightly at you. You give an awkward smile.

“L.T. how has no one ever thought about that before?” Gaz is out of breath and falls back into laughter after his question.

Ghost blinks once at you.

“Follow me, I will show you to your room.”

You wince at his back, throwing a glance at Price.

“You’ll be okay, he won’t hold it against you,” the laughter in his voice didn’t reassure you.

You scurry after the man you insulted by accident, wincing at every sound you make. The only sound Ghost makes is the slight swish of his pants as they cross with each step. He leads you down a short hall, turning right at the first choice. There are two doors down this short hall. He taps the second one.

“This is your room. Mine is next door.”

“I am really sorry, I didn’t mean to make a joke of your mask,” you stumble over your words.

“Don’t apologize, it’s a funny thought and the men will take to you easier after the joke,” he replies evenly.

You wince again and look at the door.

“Is there anything I need to handle tonight?”

“No, other than we have a nightly debrief at 2000 in the main room.”

You blow out a short breath. “Okay, I can do that.”

Stepping into the room you are surprised at the single bed, dresser, and a desk. Still all military issue but nicer. You drop your bag on the bed, looking over the space. You hadn’t truly been alone since you signed up, this might be an adjustment.

Turning back to the door you startle, Ghost is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes on you.

“Can I help you with something, lieutenant?” you ask, curious as to why he is still stood in the doorway.

“No. Feel free to join us when you are ready.” He turns away, this sound of his steps quickly fading.

You sit down on the chair at the desk. You put your head in your hands, elbows propped on your knees. How the hell did you end up here? Last night you were running for your life and now you are helping court a specialty group from the UK for the base commander. The only person from the team you spoke to last night had been Ghost. Did he have something to do with this change?

You eventually join the team back in the main room. The 2000 debrief had just been a fancy way of saying they all have a cup of tea before bed. Roach pulled out a deck of cards and you soon found yourself in a game of poker you would lose. You laugh more at the table with these men than you had in all the months you had been in the military. You fell asleep that night a soft smile on your face, the door locked tight.

✮✮✮

The months passed quickly, you became texting buddies with everyone on the team beyond Ghost. He watched you. You noticed but ignored it. He happened to be a grown man and if he had something to say he would have to buck up and use his words.

Roach comes alive through your text conversations, he is full of observations and quirky sayings. He is your favorite texting buddy.

As the time for the 141 to return come crept closer without a hard yes or no from Price about working with the base in the future the commander crept further up your ass. After a particularly unhelpful meeting where the commander ended up yelling at you, you stormed into your room. Throwing yourself face down on your bed, muttering curses.

“Can I help you?”

You eyes blow wide in the darkness created by your face being compressed into the mattress.

Shit. Fuck. Dammit. You had missed your door and landed on Ghost’s bed. You pushed up from the mattress on hands and one knee. The other foot already searched for the ground.

“Nope, sorry Ghost. I just had a bad meeting and missed my door,” you can’t help the blush overtaking your face.

One foot on the floor you pull your torso up, ready to turn and race out of the room once your second foot touches the carpet.

“Pause.”

You freeze finally looking up to see Ghost working at his desk. He has a soft balaclava on today, still a skull painted on but much more inviting than the hard mask. He has no darkening makeup on today, you can see dark brows and light, fair skin of England showing through the hole in the mask. You devour the peek into him.

“Sit,” he turns from you pulling open a drawer of his desk.

You shift to do as you are told. He has never been unkind to you, just the opposite actually. The two men who chased you across the base had been reassigned across the country shortly after you joined the team. Neither of you said it out loud but you know that only Ghost had been aware of what happened.

He spins his chair back towards you. He holds out his e-reader. This thing goes everywhere with him. Ghost could be called a voracious reader. You glance between the small device and his face, not touching the offering.

“Pick anything you like, feel free to stay until you feel better.”

You reach forward, fingers slow to grasp. Once you have a firm grip he lets go and turns back to his work. Starting the device a book opens halfway through. You back out to the main page and scroll through the options.

Several of the titles garner a raised brow.

“Didn’t take you for a smut reader, Ghost.”

The only response is a creaking of the chair as he shifts. Your lips twitch with a smile. You choose a title vaguely familiar and start from the beginning. You read sitting on Ghost’s bed until the nightly debrief. The next day you find yourself knocking at his closed door. You’re just going to ask to borrow his reader until you can finish the story.

When he opens the door what could be called a smile reaches his eyes. The edges of them shift together the barest hint.

“It’s on the bed, right where you left off.”

Bashfulness overcomes you, forcing your gaze to swing down to your boots. You slip past him, sitting against the wall feet dangling off the bed. Once the story has well and truly sucked you in you reach down and remove your boots, eyes not leaving the words as they thud to the floor. Ghost doesn’t say a single word as you end up stretching across his bed feet swinging through the air.

A knock at the door jolts you out of the story. Price’s voice comes after a knock slightly farther away.

“Debrief will be a bit late today, 2030.”

You lock eyes with Ghost, remaining silent. As Price’s footsteps walk away you flip to a sitting position and shove your toes back into your boots. You set the reader down, focused on getting the ties just right. Once they feel tight enough you stand.

“Thanks for letting me read, I guess I will come back when you have a moment you can spare it.” You can’t keep your fingers from digging into your pockets. You can’t believe you rolled yourself all over his bed while reading.

“You are welcome any time. If you are close why don’t you take it tonight and return it in the morning?” his head tilts ever so slightly.

“Really?” Your brows rise as does your voice with the question. “If you don’t mind. I can finish the book after debrief and return it before lights out.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he raised a brow as a challenge.

“I’m not saying you do,” you glare at him. “Confirming your level of seriousness is not doubting you.”

“If you say so.”

You stick your tongue out at him.

“Careful with that thing, some could take it as an invitation.” He turns back to his desk as you gape at him.

Did Ghost flirt with you?

You snap up the e-reader, holding it close to your chest as you leave the room. You let the door hang ajar, knowing it bothers him.

You wander into the main room, tucking the small tablet into your side pocket. Setting the kettle to boil you prepare a cup for each man, dropping a preferred tea bag in each. As everyone settles in around the table you finish adding milk and sugar to mugs and passing them out. Ghost sits last.

“Sugar with tea for you,” you place the cup down in front of him and take the seat to his right.

Soap chuckled, “Go’ta say L.T. she’s got you pegged.”

“To bad we can’t throw her in our luggage for when we head home,” Gaz chimed in.

Price leaned back in his chair, “Well now there’s a thought. How long do you have left?”

You finish your sip of hot chocolate, “Only about a year, but I am not planning on re-upping.”

“Wanna come work for the 141?” Price lifts a brow at you.

“Put that offer in writing so I can get a visa and absolutely,” you grin. With how much Price griped about paperwork you doubted he would follow through on getting you a work visa.

He glared at you, “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Have you known me to do anything less?” you challenge.

“Do the paperwork Price, or I will.” Ghost dropped the statement like a smoking gun to a criminal case.

You smirk down into your cup, taking a sip to avoid a comment. Ghost hates paperwork more than Price and is so meticulous with it because he hates when he has to redo the ‘fucking devil’s work’.

The men leave the table as their tea is finished, rinsing the mugs before settling into the final activity of the night. You stay at the table and pull out the e-reader. The book sucks you back in.

“Is that Ghost’s reader?” Soap’s shocked voice rips you from the climax of the story.

“What? Uh, yeah.” You settle back into the battle, your main character taking a knife to the ribs.

“Did he let you borrow it or…” he lets the question hang, a noose swinging in the wind.

Irritated, you put the tablet down. Turning to look at Soap you reply.

“Of course he let me borrow it. I’ve been using it for a few days.”

Soap’s brows shoot up his forehead, nearly touching his mohawk.

“Really? Well that’s an interesting development.”

“I guess? Now my character just got stabbed so if there is nothing else I am going to finish this before lights out so I can return it.” You turn back to the table and get absorbed back into reading.

You return the reader to Ghost before bed, and only use it in behind the safety of his door until they leave.

✮✮✮

The anticipation of pain has never once made the pain hurt less.

They are leaving, your friends are heading home to the UK. Price is the one who sat you down and gave you the dates. Two days, in two days you would walk them to their plane and have to move on like you didn’t find family in some of the scariest men you have ever met. You hold it together until you get out of his sight.

Tears slip down your cheeks, a silent testament of the love that has grown for them. You slip into Ghost’s room. He should be out right now, off training with Roach. He isn’t.

Asleep with his boots on, Ghost is sprawled out across his bed. One hand dangles out over the edge. You sit against the bed, his arm draping over your shoulder. You hold his large hand in both of yours. You know he is probably awake, but he does you the kindness of staying still. He isn’t wearing his gloves today. Ghost had many healed scrapes and scars to explore. You let your fingers drift over his hand, bumping over every ridge.

You sniff as tears continue to flow down your cheeks, splattering against your shirt. It’s hard for you to believe that you can love these wacky guys to the point of pain at their departure. You slid right into the dynamic of the crew as if they had held a place for you. Cutting off arguments between the 141 and everyone else had become your primary job. You could talk down any member from retaliatory action for both minor and major slights. You toed the lines between both Price and the base commander to find common enough ground for their agreement to be settled. You still didn’t know why there were here, only that an agreement had been reached with you as a go-between more often than not. Now they were leaving. Leaving you behind. Knowing they have jobs waiting for them, for missions to be completed doesn’t ease the ache in your chest.

You stay like that, fingertips drifting over the skin of his hand until the storm in your chest has petered out and the only signs it ravaged your soul is the tracks on your cheeks and the tears drying on your shirt.

You sniff once, sliding your fingers to fit between his.

“I know you’re probably awake, but thank you for letting me use you for comfort.” You squeeze his fingers once before standing.

Scooting out and away from the bed you take care to not look at him. This private comfort you stole from his sleeping form could only be that, private. Seeing his eyes would shatter the flimsy barrier to your heart and you couldn’t afford to lose any more of that worn organ to men across the sea. Your fingers stayed locked with his as you stood, reaching, touching until at last the kiss of his fingerprints whispered their goodbyes.

You close the door softly behind you, heading for the bathroom. Standing before the mirror with the bright white light illuminating your blotchy face you tuck away your pain to deal with in the dark. You scrub your face with cool water and redo your hair. When the a soldier with a job looks back at you instead of a woman losing her family you leave the bathroom.

✮✮✮

Two days later you say your goodbyes. Your number is entered into so many new phones and you are repeatedly asked which secure platform you will use to chat with them all. Their flight is scheduled to leave at 0320, at midnight you are scouring the rooms they used confirming everyone has packed everything.

Ghost finds you ass in the air while your hand stretches for a book Gaz had been missing for three weeks. It had fallen between his bed and the wall. When you snag it you pull back triumphant. You see his legs first, glancing all the way up at his face.

“Oh, hi, Ghost. I am just checking everyone got everything before you all leave,” you smile up at him.

He doesn’t respond, just offering a hand down to you. You take it gratefully, pulling yourself up. Taking a step back you look him over. He is wearing his soft balaclava today, he tends to wear them when he needs to be more comfortable than scary.

“All ready to go home? I bet you are going to be glad for an overcast day and a good cuppa,” the happiness in your voice isn’t faked. Ghost has complained to you a few times about the terrible tea here.

“Ready to be home, not looking forward to the flight.” He looks you over scouring your face, his gaze scrapes like steel wool over your nerves. “Close you eyes and hold out your hands.”

The husky tone of his voice catches you off guard enough that you comply without thought. Gaz’s book is lifted from your hands, leaving them empty.

As you stand you hear the buzzing of the bright light above you, the sound of Velcro opening, and the quiet sounds of breaths, both yours and Ghosts. The fingers on your cheek are a surprise, the callouses marking your skin as they trail from your jaw to your eye.

You push your face into the touch, savoring the contact. His thumb brushes against your lips. You flick the tip of your tongue against it , tasting the ridges unique to that finger. He slides away from your mouth, thumb and fingers curling around your jaw and tipping your face up. He kisses you then. Riots start inside your body. Part of you yearns to open your eyes, devour him, touch the breadth of his flesh. The other, stronger part of you screws your eyes shut tighter, taking the gift as it is given and demanding nothing more.

He kisses as if he bottles his kindness and doles it out only for you. The press of his lips against yours will keep you going. He pulls back ever so slightly.

“I’ll see you in a year dove, stay safe,” he says the words against your lips, pressing them together once more. He puts something in your hands as he steps away, his fingers still on your face.

You keep your eyes closed, waiting for some sign it would be safe to open them again. His thumb taps your jaw before drifting away.

“Open your eyes already you silly bird,” the smile in his voice is unmistakable. His fingers slip away as your eyes open.

This mask is down again, you smirk up at him.

“Why am I a silly bird for respecting boundaries you big oaf? If you wanted me to see your face you wouldn’t have asked me to close my eyes.”

He shrugs, “Didn’t think you would let me kiss you if you saw it coming.”

You can’t stop the full belly laugh that erupts out of you. “I don’t know how to respond to that!”

Shaking your head you look down and pause. Your head snaps up.

“You’re giving me your e-reader? Why?” your brows draw together as you look at him.

He shrugs again, shoulders shifting just enough to indicate he didn’t have a real reason to share.

“It’s still logged in, feel free to buy any book that piques your interest.” His hands lift to your face, cupping your cheeks.

Your eyes flutter closed at the contact. His forehead connects with yours, his warm breath kissing your face as it filters through the mask.

“Don’t die before I get there okay?” You open your eyes, staring straight into his. This close you can see the variations of brown striping through them.

“Can’t promise nothin’, but I’ll do my best.” He sounds sincere.

You give into the urge to hug him. He hesitates before returning the gesture. You stand with him, listening to his heartbeat until you have soaked in the pressure of his presence. You pull back first, wiping at your eyes.

“Let’s get you to your ride, Price will come looking for you soon.”

You grab Gaz’s book, tuck the e-reader in a side pocket and walk with Ghost to the hanger. The silence between you is comfortable, and tinged with the moments you have shared in silence before.

As you get close you wave the book at Gaz who jogs over.

“Where did you find it? I looked everywhere,” he takes the book gratefully.

“Everywhere but under your bed obviously.”

Ghost snorts, walking past you to join Price near the gangplank of the plane. You’ve said all your goodbyes at this point. You only stay to see them off. Everyone but Ghost gives you a hug or a pat on the back as the board the plane. You wave until the door shuts and watch until the dim lights of the wings are swallowed by the darkness.

You blow out a breath and speak into the darkness.

“One year, you can make it one more year.”

✮✮✮

Six months in you can tell things are getting bad for them. It takes longer and longer for replies to come in to your messages and when Soap is willing to share whats happening it is summed up in a single word.

Mole.

They go dark for another three months. Your days are filled with a background of worry and a foreground of doing what you are told.

Ghost is the one who breaks the silence.

>Your paperwork is through, you visa should arrive soon.

The cheer you give in the mess hall has every eye on you. Pinching your lips between your teeth you clean up your tray and slip outside.

>Anything special I should do after it arrives?

His reply comes quick.

>Pack.

You laugh. Some would miss the dry wit with which he pokes at you. You miss him, them.

>I have a few months left before I am out. Should I fly into Heathrow?

>Yes. Send Price your flight details and someone will come get you.

You send a kissy face emoji in response, imagining the eye roll that this would incite.

The final three months slip by like water. Your off time is filled with nailing down travel details and fighting with Price via email over the contract he sent you. He set up a fair contract, but he wanted you on his team so why not ask for a few extra vacation days?

✮✮✮

Soap is the one to pick you up when your flight lands. You drag your achy bones through customs, the clash of accents all around you weighing on your brain.

You set your bags down to hug him. He laughs.

“Miss me bonnie lass?”

You mumble your reply into his chest.

“I’m not anyone’s ‘bonnie lass’.” You nearly match his accent on the words.

“I donne believe you, but tis good to see you back. Let’s get you to HQ.” He looks down at your bags, “This all you have?”

You ignore the prick of judgment the question causes in you. There is nothing wrong with a transatlantic move that only has you bring a carry on and a backpack.

“That’s it, I pack pretty light. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He gives you a heavy side eye.

“Never said there was.”

Conversation falls back into familiar territory as Soap fights his way out of the airport, car inching forward until they are at last out of the city. You don’t fight the pull of your eyelids to meet in sleep as Soap sings along to the radio. A hand on your shoulder wakes you. Soap smirks at you from the other seat.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

You roll your eyes and focus beyond the windshield at an old barn. You glance at Soap, confused.

He chuckles as he replies, “England is old, we have to reuse what we can.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” You step out of the car, feeling odd to be leaving the left side as a passenger.

You leave your bags in the car. Soap wanted to introduce you to the full team before showing you to the shared flat you would be living in until you could secure your own lodgings.

He is talking about the area, waving his arms this way and that pointing out the range and the picnic tables. He pulls open a person sized door beside the massive barn doors.

“We’re ho-” his shout into the building is cut off.

Something wet sprays across the side of your face. You snap your gaze to Soap. His face is gone, just a mass of bloody tissue gushing blood to the floor.

The scream that erupts from you is genuine. You had managed to avoid combat with the army and had never seen what a bullet could do to someone’s face. He falls slowly, almost as if his body is still fighting against gravity.

A hand claps over your mouth, unfamiliar voices yelling at you to ‘hush up or end up like him.’

You are dragged further into the building before your wrists are secured behind you. You are hurled into a large, windowless room landing next to the gasping body of Gaz. He can’t see you since his eyes are gone.

You vomit, doing your best to aim it away from him. When all the acid has been purged from your body you look around between dry heaves. Roach is hanging by his hands to a hook coming from the ceiling, Price’s face is slowly being peeled away as questions are being shouted at him. Ghost is missing, but you can’t decide if that is a good or bad thing.

Gaz starts to choke, bloody spittle dotting the floor in front of him. You scoot closer to him and lay your head on his. You can’t save him dammit but you can at least let him know he isn’t alone as he goes.

“It’s okay Gaz, you can go. Just stop fighting, rest.” The panic flooding your body makes it hard to talk.

He calms at your voice though, one final cough splattering the knees of your jeans. Gone.

You are wrenched upwards by your hair. You scream and stand, anything to relieve the pressure on your scalp. You are forced to stand before Price, your friend.

You can see a silver molar wink at you from his mangled face.

“Who is this Price?” The question comes from a calm voice.

How could anyone be calm at this time? Your eyes can’t settle on a single thing, flicking from person to person looking for a way out.

“No one, just a new liaison. Just flew in.”

The fact he answers the question tells you there is no way out of this.

A commotion at the door draws everyone’s gaze. Ghost is being dragged in by the back of his shirt, head lolling.

“Look what we found hiding in the rafters, a ghost!” All the men standing laugh as if this is all some big joke.

They tie him to a chair right next to Price. When they rip off his mask you look away.

“Ah lads, she is shy about his face. Good thing there won’t be much to see after we are done with him,” the man with his hand in your hair chortles.

They torture him, making you watch. Each scream from your friends snaps a tenuous hold on reality. Something deep in your brain stem seems to break when you see the bullet enter Price’s skull then hear it blast through Ghost’s. You aren’t anything any more. Nothing can touch you because while your body pumps blood your soul has followed your friends to the afterlife.

They don’t let you in of course, the angels dither over where to send you. You slip away from the pearly gates as they argue, wandering the fence that blocks paradise until hear the hooting laughter of Price getting caught off guard by a particularly funny joke. You find them all playing cards as if they were waiting for you. A cheer goes up and Ghost offers you a hand to hold.

✮✮✮

The night nurse can’t keep a yawn from her face. She takes a long swallow of her energy drink. She was getting to old for this shift. She stands her knees cracking like rice cripsies. Her trainee jumping up joined her.

“Let’s do rounds, midnight is pretty hopping around here. We have several patients that get restless around that time.”

Moving to the door she keys in the code for the day to enter the ward. She leads the way to the craft room. Most of the patients tended to congregate here during the night. The emergency lights meant this room never reached the level of darkness of the personal rooms.

Only one patient today, a young woman from the States who had been deemed too mentally unstable to stand trial. The doctors keep her heavily medicated for fear of her harming herself or others. The nurses gave extra doses of meds as they were able, her constant weeping scared the other patients.

“Ah, just one tonight. This one you do need to watch out for though when you are working,” the older nurse watched from the doorway as her patient stared out the window rocking slowly.

“Why? She doesn’t look like trouble.” The baby nurse had so much to learn.

“First rule of psych, crazy is always strong. Second is that looks have no bearing on the mind. She’s from the States, word is that she tortured and killed at least eight men who were all special forces trained. The thought around here is that she had a mental break and snapped. Not that I believe that much anymore. Management has mentioned that her former commander from the US is filing a lawsuit to get her case reopened. I looked it up, turns out she never saw combat so there is no way she could have taken out eight trained men. The US embassy is trying to get her home.”

“Oh,” the baby nurse took in the information, slightly more worried about their career choice than before the shift started.

“You’ll do fine, let’s go do our bed checks.” The older nurse turned away from the craft room. “There is nothing else we can do to help her.”

Masterlist

#cod #simon riley x reader #all my friends are dead #hurt/no comfort

63 notes · View notes

captainlunaxmen · 6 months ago

Text

All for the Cameras

Chapter 9

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Hello! I'm sorry it takes me this long to write each chapter, but I have so many ideas for so many fics, and also, I don't want to fuck this one up😅

Let me know what you think, especially now that we're entering Mockingjay pt1, I would appreciate some feedback, so I can get better and better.♥️♥️♥️

Chapter summary: time to face the consequences. But that doesn't mean the fight is over.

Chapter warnings: violence, torture, guilt, implied rape, non-consensual touching, Cal, Finnick being a sweetie pie.

Tag list:

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf @kermits-bitch @littleshadow17 @piya-re

I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺

Masterlist

Y/n's Pov

My mind can't register nothing but pain.

In my head.

In my chest.

Everywhere.

All I can feel is pain.

I can vaguely hear voices around me, but I can't make out what they are saying.

I'm tied down on a table, lights prevent me from seeing more of the room. I try my best to move, but I can't, I can't move an inch and breathing gets harder.

Suddenly the pain is gone. I immediately try to catch my breath and I try to also understand where I am exactly.

"The pain you feel right now is nothing compared to what I felt when I found out about your betrayal."

My chest tightens even more when I hear Cal's voice.

"Do you have any idea what that felt like?" He comes into my line of sight, I can clearly see his anger, jaw clenching as he leans over me, "you hurt me, princess."

"You... you... hurt me... f-first..." I stutter out, my throat hurts badly.

"Me?" He scoffs, "I hurt you first? Princess, do you hear yourself? I gave you everything."

I want to scoff, want to throw everything I've hold back all these years, but I'm too weak.

"You..."

"Shut up!" He screams right at my face.

"General." A voice calls from what I assume is the door.

Cal immediately stands straight, hard look on his face as he steps back.

"President Snow." Cal nods his head.

"Leave us, general." Snow orders.

"Yes, sir." Cal nods and looks down at me, "I will see you soon."

I look up at the ceiling, focusing on calming my heart and breathing.

"You know, miss L/n," he starts speaking as he walks closer, "I have to give it to you, you did fool me. I did thought you were finally realising what being in the Capitol means. What these games mean."

I dare look at him once he's close enough. He has a smirk on his face.

"And you believed me?" I ask with the voice I have left.

"I did, and for that I owe you my respect. If only you were this good at lying before I had to kill your brother... such a shame." He sighs, "I remember that day too, miss L/n, I remember the hatred in your eyes, how easily I could read you, your thoughts and your intentions. You wanted to die, didn't you?"

"Better... than this..." I mutter.

"Oh, yes, I know. But you made a mistake." He states, it's almost like he's teaching to a class, "do you know what mistake?"

I gulp and take a breath to answer.

"I... I cared..." I answer weakly.

"Exactly." He nods, "you started to care not only about the tributes you were assigned to, but the mentors... and the tributes you weren't supposed to help." My eyes shot to his face, "I have to say you also got better at hiding that, for a good while I thought you stopped. This will be no comfort to you, I'm sure, but I am very proud of you, my dear."

"An insult..." I grit out.

"Of course. Oh and let's not forget the threats you had to invent... wonderful ideas, absolutely wonderful. With that you convinced me, I have to admit. Ideas worthy of the Capitol." He says this knowing I feel guilty, knowing that I hated being part of the games.

"Just kill me already." I breath out.

"Kill you? My dear girl, how could I? I would never kill Capitol's Princess, no, no." He chuckles.

"Then what? Torture me until I don't know who I am anymore?" I try to raise my voice a little, but the pain in my chest makes it hard.

"No, that's for Mr. Mellark to find out. " He casually say and I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me off, "no, you will be always aware of what's going on. And whatever mistake you make, they will pay."

"No..."

"You see, miss L/n, you might think you got so good at lying that I wouldn't know you anymore. But I do. And I know the worst torture for you is not pain, even though that will come too of course, no, it's hearing your loved ones in pain and not being able to help them." He looks proudly at me, satisfied with my terrified reaction, "or better... knowing you are the reason they're screaming."

He then looks beyond me, to someone, nod his head and in that moment screaming fills my ears. My eye widen recognising the voice.

"No... no..."

"It's Mr. Mellark first session, thought you wanted to assist." He says, I pull at the restraints, but they're too hard and I'm too weak, "know that the pain he's feeling right now is sponsored by you, miss L/n."

After that he walks away, I scream at him all the insults that come to mind, but the exhaustion is kicking in.

Peeta screams and screams and screams, I can't imagine what they're doing to him, what he's thinking...

It's all my fault...

My fault.

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

Finnick's Pov

All Finnick can do now is make knots, knots, and knots. The only thing to try and keep his mind busy... but it's no use.

All his thoughts are consumed by guilt as he sits on the hospital bed in 13. He doesn't deserve it. He keeps repeating to himself. He should've gone back.

"Finnick." Katniss suddenly calls.

"I wanted to go back for Peeta and Johanna... but I, uh...I... I couldn't move." He dares look at Katniss. He can't read her expression, and he doesn't even want to. He sighs, "they have Y/n, too. They took her." He notices her expression softening, knowing the two girls were slowly developing a friendship, "she's, uh... she's in the Capitol." Then a horrible thought makes its way into his mind, "I wish she was dead. I wish they were dead and we were too."

Does he actually want it? He knows what the Capitol is capable of, and he knows that death would be more merciful. He can't even imagine what they're doing to his friends right now, how they're torturing them.

Death sounds so much more appealing.

Y/n's Pov.

The fetal position doesn't offer that much comfort as people say. The cold floor makes sure of it. I don't know how long they kept me tied up to that table, how long they forced me to hear they screams.

The doors opening get my attention and I immediately sit up and move closer to the wall. I hear the cell's door next to mine opening and closing. Then footsteps exiting the room.

"Y/n?" Peeta's weak and tired voice calls me.

"P-Peeta..." I move to the bars, along the wall we share, "Peeta, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't..." he groans, I can hear he's getting closer too, "don't blame yourself. It's... not your fault."

"I feel like it is... If I..."

"No," he cuts me off, "don't go down there. Don't blame yourself."

"What... what did they do to you?" I ask, hesitantly.

"I don't think thay will do you any good." He says, even in this situation he tries to look out for others.

"Please..." I whisper.

"Electrocuting." He sighs.

"Peeta..."

"Not your fault." He firmly says. "What about you?"

I sigh, still feeling my head throbbing.

"Same, and in the meantime they made me... listen to you."

"Oh..."

"You have to be stronger then them," I tell him.

"What... what do you mean?"

"Don't let them change you. They know it's your fear... Don't let them." I instruct, "Whatever they're going to do to you, whatever they're going to tell you, it's not real."

"I... I'll try." He says, his tone is scared and unsure. I wish I could do more, I wish I could take that pain from him.

"You have to."

An angry scream interrupts us and suddenly the doors are open again.

"Fucking assholes! Let me fucking go!"

I can see Johanna's being thrown into the cell in front of ours and the guards immediately leave without a word.

"Fuck!" She screams hitting her hands on the ground.

"Johanna..?" I call.

"Y/n! I thought they killed you!" She exclaims.

"That would've been too kind."

"You're right. Torturing people is more like their style." She agrees.

"What's their plan?" Peeta asks, a little hesitant, "I mean, what use could we be?"

"To convince the Capitol." I say.

"What do you mean?" Johanna asks.

"The Capitol loved Katniss and Snow wants to discredit her, he needs to." I explain, "he needs to convince the Capitol Katniss is the villain... or... convince them she was a victim too."

"Why would he do that?" Peeta's confused.

"Because it could use this to convince the districts too. If the districts believe she never wanted a revolution, if they believe she's only wants everything to go back to normal, they won't raise against the Capitol. They won't have a leader anymore. He could still control them."

"Why would they believe it?" She asks again.

"They managed to convince everyone of all sort of thing in the past few years, I wouldn't be surprised." I say.

"Right... and where do we fit in this plan?"

"Make us say what they want."

"How?" Johanna spats.

"Don't underestimate them." I glare, "don't think they don't have the means to get you to do what they need you to. And trust they will do whatever they can. And the Capitol can do a lot. You should know."

"Fuck. Fuck!" Johanna punches the wall, frustrated.

"No need to hurt yourself now, Johanna. Don't steal all the fun." I sarcastically tell her.

"So much fun, indeed." She agrees, "fuck! We better be dead."

"I wish... I wish." I breath out, I notice Peeta has been quiet for a while, "Peeta? Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I mean, no. Sorry, I..." he sighs, I can tell he's holding back tears, "I guess I'm scared."

"I know, I am too."

I hold out a hand between the bars, hoping he would see it and take it, thankfully he does, it's not the most comfortable position, but it gives us some comfort, I wish I could do the same with Johanna. I look at her and she sadly smiles and nods her head.

"It's okay." She whispers.

The doors suddenly open, harshly. Automatically we all move to the walls, to somwhow hide, knowing full well ot would be no use.

Then Cal gets in front on my cell, and my chest tightens again at the sight.

"Stand." He orders as he open the door.

I'm apparently taking too much time so he enters and yanks me up.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" Johanna yells and hits the bars.

"It's okay..." I tell her, and Cal drags me out.

"You shut up," he says to Johanna, "unless you want another session."

"I'm okay, don't worry ab-"

"Shut up. Walk." Cal orders me.

No other choice but to walk.

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

Cal drags me all the way to a long corridor until we reach a room, in which he, not so kindly, push me.

The room is small, there's only a table and two chairs, it looks like an interrogation room or something. But what scares me the most is being alone in such a tiny space with Cal.

"We need to talk." He states, closing the door behind him. "Sit."

I do as he says, my eyes on him in case he wants to try something... not that I could be able to do anything about it, but it's little comfort... little.

"Why?" He simply asks.

"Uh?" I'm a little taken aback by the question.

"Why you? Why did they had to corrupt you?" He asks.

"Corrupt me..? What... what do you mean?" I'm just as confused.

"Why would you risk everything for them? It doesn't make sense to me." He says, sitting down in front of me, he tries to take my hands but I move them out of the way.

"Everything? What everything?"

"Your life, our life together. "

"You... are you serious?" I can't help the anger raising.

"We were so happy together, we want-"

"You were." I cut him off, "you were happy, I was miserable. Your father paid me to be with you, then you kept on paying me. You forced me to. Snow forced me to. You and any other person in the Capitol."

"I gave you everything." He grits out.

"Gave me every- what the fuck are you referring to? The clothes? The jewellery? Or the bruises? Maybe the nightmares" I spit back.

"I love you." He says.

"No you don't." I'm exasperated now, "you don't. I don't know what you think you love, but it's not me."

"Don't you ever tell me what I feel. I know damn well." He stands up, and come closer.

Once he's too close I get up too, to get as far as the small room allows me to.

"You have no idea what love is." I tell him.

"And you do?" He scoffs, "don't tell me..." He stops for a moment, considering me, "was I right all this time?"

"About what?"

"Odair." He simply says and I instinctively look away from him, "I was right!"

He quickly corners me into the wall, hand around my neck and the other grabs my wrist tightly as I try to push him off.

"Cal..."

"Remember this: you are mine. Mine. We will get married soon, the people will see you as a victim of this mess, and once I get my hands on him... I will kill him and you will watch." He threatens.

"No..."

"Yes, now, if you don't mind I missed our time together... I plan on making up for lost time." He whispers, face getting closer to mine.

It's when I feel his lips on mine that I start to push and turn around, but he's too strong for me... all I can do is let him.

Finnick's Pov

Finnick's been sitting all day, he doesn't even want to eat or sleep, he only does because he knows Y/n would scold him for it.

The door opening catches his attention, and relaxes a little seeing Haymitch walking in.

"Mr. Odair." Haymitch nods and stands in front of him, "how do we feel today?"

"Maybe better than you." Finnick answers, "How's rehab doing?"

"It could be better... I have to admit." He replies, tone's heavy.

"I have to ask..." Finnick starts.

"She was supposed to be at the rooftop with me, we waited, we did wait... until we couldn't anymore." Haymitch starts to explain, guilty visible in his expression and talking, "I kept my eyes open the whole time just to catch a glimpse of her, but I'm afraid the peacekeepers were already at her apartment." He sighs, "I'm sorry."

"I don't think she would like you blaming yourself." Finnick tries to joke, tears in his eyes.

"Oh, I know." Haymitch sadly smiles, "we'll get them all back."

"Really?" Finnick doesn't want to hold his hopes up, but if there's even the smallest chance of seeing her again, he would grab it.

"I owe her." Haymitch mutters more to himself than to Finnick.

Finnick wants to ask him how he thinks they're alive, but suddenly, the Capitol theme starts, and the Capitol symbol appears on the TV in the room.

"What's this now?" Haymitch groans.

"Hello. Good evening." Ceaser face appears as he greets the audience, "and a big welcome to all in Panem. I'm Ceasar Flickerman. And whoever you are, whatever it is you're doing... if you're working, out down your work. If you're having dinner, stop having dinner. Because you are going to want to witness this tonight."

"What do you think they're doing?" Finnick asks.

"No clue." Haymitch replies, eyes focused on the TV.

"There has been rampant speculation about what really happened in the Quartel Quell. And here to shed a little light on the subject for us is a very special guest. Please welcome Mr. Peeta Mellark."

"What the fuck...?" Haymitch scoffs.

"He looks well..." Finnick comments.

"Yeah, you know better than anyone how good the Capitol is too hide all sort of bruise." Haymitch says.

They pay attention to what Peeta's saying, he explains what happened, how he lost Katniss before the end.

"What do they want to do?" Finnick's confused to see Peeta like this.

"I don't know... maybe they want to destroy Katniss' image of leader...I don't know." Haymitch mutters, "or maybe Snow wants to destabilise her."

They fall silent again seeing Peeta referring to the camera.

"I want everyone who's watching to stop and to think about what a civil war could mean. We almost went extinct once before. And now our numbers are even fewer. Is this really what we wanna do? Kill ourselves off? Killing is not the answer. Everyone needs to lay down their weapons immediately. Or else that's it. For all of us."

"Peeta... are you calling for a cease-fire?" Ceaser checks.

"Yeah. I am. I want everyone to stop the senseless violence. This is not the path to change." Peeta agrees.

"What..." Finnick starts, alarmed, "what are they doing to them?"

"I don't even want to imagine." Haymitch groans.

"Now. Ladies and gentlemen... a special surprise." Ceaser begin to speak again, "you love her, she's part of everyone's family and now she's been entwined in today's speculations, but such misunderstanding will be easily wiped off once she gets to say her side. Please welcome our Princess, Y/n L/n!" He announces.

"What?" Finnicks stands immediately getting closer to the screen.

"Hello, Ceasar, long time no see." She brightly smiles at the host.

"Indeed, my dear." Ceaser takes her hand and kiss the back of it, "it's so nice to have you back here. Unfortunately, we're not here for our usual chat, are we?"

"No..." she says, sadly. Finnick gets even close to the screen so he can notice any detail possible. "But I think I can make some clearance on this whole situation, if you'll allow me of course."

"Look." Finnick tells Haymitch pointing at Y/n's hands, "look at her fidgeting."

"She's nervous... what about it?" Haymitch asks, getting close too.

"Look at it." Finnick repeats.

Haymitch then focuses on her hands, she's wearing rings and she is turning them left and right.

"There's a scheme." Haymitch breaths out, "she's sending a message."

"Yes, she is!" Finnick can't help but exclaim, "she is! My brave girl."

"You know that if they find it they will kill her." Haymitch warns.

"I know... she does too." Finnick goes back at looking at her face, she doesn't show any emotion except the ones she uses to fool the Capitol.

"I have to tell Plutarch." Haymitch walks out.

"As you could hear, all a misunderstanding." Ceaser announces, "It's great, let me tell you, you would've broken my heart."

"I could never!" Y/n fakes pity, "you're my favourite person!"

"Hear that! I'm her favourite person!" He laughs and takes her hands, "let's not make your future husband jealous now" he winks.

Finnick notices Y/n slightly tensing, he notices because he knows her, everyone else wouldn't blink an eye at that.

"Oh he knows he can't top you." She winks back.

"Now you flatter me, my ego is too big without all these praises." He smiles, "Alright, people of Panem, it's all for today. Have all a good day and stay tuned for more news!"

And with that the TV turns off.

"You're still fighting..." Finnick mutters by himself, relieved by seeing her on screen, "my brave girl."

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