#on the other one I do NOT think that the sniper was skilled enough to “only graze the ear”

[littleapocalypsekitten]

What seriously went on in my household. Me, in after work and subsequent grocery-shopping (I shop where I work). I am in the bathroom. My beloved, in the living room, taking a rest after repainting the hallway on his day off, has TV on. Him: "It happened AGAIN? Can't they even HIT him?!" Me: *Darting out to catch the news* What happened? Him: Another assassination attempt. Trump is reported fine, it was no where near him. Me: Ugh, these things (assassination attempts) are so stupid. Him: *Turns back to Phillies game.*

the way I've not seen NEARLY as many posts or memes about the second assassination attempt is so fucking funny like yeah just wake us up when someone succeeds

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

12 / 1,147 words / for @141wh0re. happy birthday <3

nsfw, free use, rough sex, group sex ⬇

...

"Shut your bloody mouth before you broadcast our hiding place to every tango in a mile radius," Ghost snaps. He's got you bent over a crate, your nails digging into the old wood for purchase as his hips grind against yours.

"Then don't be so fucking rough," you snap, though it sounds breathy and thin even to your ears. You shift, feeling his hands squeeze your hips in irritation.

Ghost doesn't falter, but his eyes glitter at your backtalk. He claps his gloved hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you're making. His other hand grips your thigh, forcing you onto one leg as he pushes your knee onto the top of the crate. He pulls out and slams back into you, getting back to railing you hard and fast.

“We need you on your sniper, Ghost,” Soap hisses from his spot at the far window. He’s peering down the scope of his own rifle. This building is only two stories high and small enough that any one of you could cross the room in three strides. The body heat alone is getting to you. Not to mention the way Ghost is fucking you like it'll save this mission, his pants pushed down to mid-thigh just as yours are.

"Get back to work, then, Ghost," Price tells him from the nearest window, eye leaving the scope of his rifle for a moment to take you in. "I don't need you two distracting my team."

Ghost grinds into you, a frustrated snarl muffled under his mask. You feel the muscles in his hands flex as he bites back his anger. "Fuck," he mutters. "Alright. Let's finish this."

On the other side of the cramped room, Gaz and Soap kneel at the largest window. They keep their focus, sniping marks with ruthless precision. As they do, Ghost's hips snap into you faster and harder. His teammates are focused on their task; he's focused solely on his.

"You're so tight," he growls. His hand slips away from your mouth, falling to your neck. "I've been wanting you since we--"

"Stop talking," you snap, hyperaware of the implicit warning in Price’s voice and the way Soap and Gaz are shifting in position, getting restless. You’re not sure if they’ve had enough, if they’re jealous, if they’d sooner throw you out the window than entertain another moment of this. "Get it done."

Ghost doesn't bother to argue. He pins you down with a hand between your shoulder blades as he fucks you, unceremonious and primal.

You bite your lip and try to stay quiet as Price's judgmental gaze falls over you again. Ghost flattens you even more against the crate and slams into you so hard and fast it creaks and squeaks against the floor. You cry out, writhing. His hips stutter, and then he's coming, slamming into you until you can't think. Your clit catches the rough edge of the crate. The sudden, sharp jolt is too much. An unexpected orgasm crashes over you, and you groan pathetically, clenching around Ghost.

Ghost curses. He slows down, still panting, and slowly pulls out of you. He runs a gloved hand down your back in a quick—but still noticeable—gesture of appreciation.

"Nice," Price mutters in approval. "Good work."

"She’s a good teammate, ain’t she," Ghost says. "Always wet."

You shiver, their words shooting straight to your core. You're sure you should be insulted, not flattered. But your body doesn’t seem to understand that.

Gaz nudges Soap and they glance over their shoulders at you.

“How long was that one?” Gaz asks Soap.

“I’m busy at the moment. You think I bloody timed it?” Soap snaps. 

Gaz looks amused. “Did you not?”

Soap swears under his breath, eye returning to his sniper scope. “Eleven minutes.”

Gaz scoffs. "Could do better."

“Alright, that’s enough,” Price says, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Ghost, take up position.”

He disappears from behind you. You pull yourself together and get to work.

...

This mission went tits up right out of the gate. If not for your teammates’ ludicrous skill and focus under pressure, you’d be dead. No doubt. But they’ve been in far worse binds than simply being pinned down inside a rickety, moldy shack by endless enemy gunfire.

Soon enough, the chaos is over, and no more shots ring out.

“Clear,” Soap says.

“Proper job,” Price says. “Regroup.”

You’re patching up a graze on Gaz’s forearm when Price returns three minutes later, frowning.

“Bad news. No exfil for another forty-five minutes.”

“How bloody long does it take to—” Ghost cuts himself off with a rough sigh. “We should keep moving. Find somewhere safer to wait it out.”

“After we regroup here, yeah?” Gaz says.

Ghost scoffs. “Why? You in the middle of something?”

“Oh, we’re about to be,” Soap retorts.

You’re hardly paying attention, fastening two butterfly bandages to Gaz’s laceration when Soap’s arm loops around your waist and drags you backward into his lap. He makes sure to drag your core over his thigh, knowing you’re still sensitive enough to feel it even through your pants. You grit your teeth, biting back a groan. He tugs the top half of your combat uniform apart and shoves his hand inside, groping your chest roughly. You gasp, grinding down on his lap unwittingly.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl.” Soap’s breath is hot in your ear. “Real reliable.”

“We don’t have time for fun and games, Johnny,” Ghost says, sounding irritated.

“Easy for you to say. You had yours,” Gaz says. He slides closer to Soap, his eyes fixed on you.

Ghost throws a questioning look at Price. Price leans back on the crate you’d been bent over a few minutes ago. He shrugs, rolling around a fresh cigarette between his lips. “Not a bad place to sit tight. We’ve got a good view in all directions if more tangos approach. Relatively protected and exfil has a clear landing zone through those trees. We stay.”

“You heard him,” Gaz says.

“Arsewits, both of you,” Ghost mutters.

You’re staring at the cigarette in Price’s mouth, eyes half-lidded, when Gaz’s fingers take your chin and tilt your face toward him. “You don’t mind, love, do you?”

A frustrated growl rolls through Soap’s chest, but he pauses mid-squeeze to hear your answer too.

You stare at Gaz, then Ghost, then Price again. “Forty-five minutes?”

“We’ll make it work,” Soap says.

“I know.” You shift in his lap again. Your core is aching, your mind already clouded over with want. “Fine. If… if that’s what you need.”

Soap chuckles into your ear. “Away wi’ that. No pretendin’ you do this because it’s your job. You like it.”

“Fuck off,” you snap.

“Gettin’ to that.” Soap shifts you so he can get his pants and yours out of the way. He notices Gaz’s hand run down your neck enticingly, hears you sigh, and pushes Gaz’s hand away. “Wait your turn.”

Gaz scoffs. “You’ll hardly last long enough to wait on.”

“You can share,” Price tells them. Then he gives you a pointed look. “Saves time. You can rest on the bird, sweetheart.”

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Zoro Carrying You Back To The Sunny After Hurting Your Ankle

Roronoa Zoro X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Injury to reader

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) Yes the use of this gif was entirely necessary! Explain myself??...*runs away* THIS IS PURE INDULGENCE! I'M NOT SORRY!! Happy reading!

It was peaceful on The Sunny, the sun shining and birds circling overhead as the gentle waves lapped along the shore. Another port to stop at to gather up necessary supplies. While majority of the crew went onto land to gather the items to replenish the Sunny's dwindled stock. You, Zoro, and Usopp were left on board to keep anyone from coming aboard. Not to mention Zoro couldn't be trusted in any town as he always wound up getting lost. You sighed deeply, leaned up against the railing, basking in the warm sun when Usopp started to shake you violently.

"Hey get up! Zoro is leaving the boat," Usopp all but screeched in your ear.

"So," you groaned barely raising an eye towards the freaking out sniper. "If you're so worried about him, you follow him."

"I can't do that," he shivered.

"And why not?"

"Because! He always gets in trouble and he likes you better," Usopp replied and you rolled your eyes. For such a crack shot Usopp would more than likely always be a coward.

"I highly doubt that, but since you're too chicken."

"I'm not chicken," Usopp huffed. "I just have that disease."

"Yeah yeah." You got up, stretching your stiff limbs before racing down the ramp. "Yo Zoro wait up!"

"What for," Zoro asked clearly not happy to have someone tagging along with him.

"Because you have the directional skills of a concussed goose and I'm bored. You always get into trouble so it makes every trip exciting," you retorted finally catching up to where you could walk by his side.

The green haired swordsman rolled his eyes but didn't say anything in reply. You took his silence as permission to stay by his side. Not that you really needed his permission anyway.

You both walked in comfortable quiet, you taking in the surroundings of the island. Since joining The Straw Hat crew you had seen so many sights that you had never dreamed of seeing. And while you had made so many friends along the way, there was a special place in your heart for the swordsman you walked beside. His stubborn tenacity in the face of all the countless battles made your heart skip. His chiseled blade honed body was a plus too. But it was Zoro's loyalty that had you tripping over him, though you never let him know that. He was oblivious to your feelings and you could live with that.

What Zoro was trying to accomplish with this endeavor off The Sunny you didn't know. He didn't like to stay in one place for very long. So you figured he needed to stretch his legs and take a look at the surroundings. You didn't blame Zoro as you too didn't like to be stuck on a boat so much. Usopp was enough to keep the ship safe while you enjoyed your time next to Zoro. But it was starting to get late and the other crew members would be arriving back to the ship soon. And you both were a little far away so it would take some time to get back. You didn't want Luffy and the others to worry about you both, they'd probably think Zoro got you both lost. It was getting hard to see too as the sun started setting behind the trees, darkening the ground to where you couldn't hardly see where you were stepping.

"Hey Zoro," you spoke up after hours of silence. You cringed at the sound of your voice destroying the calm surrounding you both. "It's getting late we should start heading back to the ship."

Zoro sighed, "Yeah. Luffy will want to leave soon after all the supplies are loaded."

Zoro turned heading straight towards the town instead of the way you both had been traveling.

"Wait Zoro the Sunny is that way," you rushed forward reaching for Zoro's shoulder to turn him in the right direction when your foot found an uncovered root. You tried stopping your fall which only made the angle your ankle went in a more severe direction. You hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from your lungs and an excruciating pain radiating in your ankle. You blinked back tears as you leaned back on the tree that betrayed you. Rubbing at the quickly swelling joint you tried to put weight on it. You hissed as a few tears escaped trickling down your cheeks.

Zoro was by your side quickly, kneeling in front of you before sliding your boot off, "Are you okay?"

"I can't put weight on it. It's probably sprained really bad."

"Or broken," Zoro replied.

"I'm trying to be optimistic here," you chuckled before hissing at Zoro prodding at the joint.

"Can you make it back with me," he asked.

"I'll try," you nodded before testing a step forward. As soon as your weight settled on your foot you went back down. Zoro catching you immediately and lowering you back down gently. He sighed reaching up in his sleeve to remove the bandana tied around his upper arm. He tucked your boot in his belt that his swords hung from and pushed your pant leg up. His calloused hands brushing against your skin had you shivering in delight before turning into pain as he wrapped the bandana around your ankle.

"I'll have to carry you back," Zoro spoke as he continued to wrap your ankle. Tying the bandana with a tight knot, the pressure of the material helped ease the constant sting.

"I'll be your guide you be my legs."

"Deal." Without another word Zoro squatted down his back facing you. Sucking in a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and his hands gripped your thighs. He stood up, not even grunting at the extra weight and started to walk, in the wrong direction again. You sighed, it was going to be awhile before you both made it back to the Sunny.

What felt like an eternity later the glorious sight of the ship made you slump further in Zoro's grip in relief. His fingers tightened on your skin as your hand brushed against his chest.

"Thank you Zoro," you mumbled as Chopper raced down the dock to where you and Zoro were.

"What happened," the little reindeer worried for your health.

"She tripped," Zoro replied walking past Chopper so he could take you inside. "Probably sprained and possibly broken."

"Put her on my table," Chopper raced by Zoro to get all the necessary supplies.

You greeted your crewmates and eased their worries as Zoro continued to carry you, unconcerned of the knowing glances his fellow pirates shot your way causing you to blush. Once Zoro set you gently on Chopper's examination table, you held his arm keeping him from leaving.

"Thank you Zoro," you whispered again pulling him closer to where you could kiss his cheek.

He blinked, stepping backwards in a daze. "You're welcome," he mumbled before exiting out of the door.

You couldn't fight the smile as Chopper examined your injured ankle, Zoro's bandana still wrapped around your joint. Chopper untied it and set it down beside you, you picked it up gently holding it to your chest as Chopper treated you. Maybe there was a little hope between you and Zoro after all.

[maidenvault]

Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.

Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.

He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.

I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.

Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.

The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.

For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.

But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.

But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.

No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.

[bluespace-writer]

Hi. I want to make a suggestion: Their s/o goes completely missing. How does the mercs react?

If not all mercs, van I suggest Sniper, Soldier and Engineer?

TF2 Mercs reacting to s/o going missing - [platonic, romantic]

Mercenaries: (Sorry I didn't do all of them): Scout, Solider, Sniper, Spy and Engineer

Scout:

> Scout is the first one to notice your absence. He walks around the base looking for his bud but when unsuccessful his first thought will be "Ah, they probably went on a mission or something" and goes back to continue his activities

> When some time passes Scout starts to worry. Sure he could understand that some contracts are hard to finish but everyone were always back before day ends. And you are still not back.

> He can't stand it and decides to look around the base trying to find you. Unsuccessful after his research Scout is getting more worried

> I imagine him runing around from room to room, asking some guys about you only to hear that you still aren't back. Oh boy where are you?

> His reaction that you are missing next day fills him with worry. Why? How?! Where are they?! Why did they disappeared??

> First one to volunteer to look for you

> If you are his partner or if you have crush on each other be ready to be swarm with hugs and worried fast talk after this

> After you are found his first reaction is to put his arms around your shoulders and ask milion questions. Where were you, etc. Now he won't leave you for a whole week. "What? Noooo I wasn't worried about you, but don't disappear like that!" won't admit it but he missed you. A lot.

Solider:

> He won't see your absence at first, it will take some time for him to realize there was supposed to be 10 and not 9 people around

> He will shrug it off thinking you are just away

> He is going to find out you are missing only when someone points out your absence to him in person

> "SHALL KNOW NO FEAR MAGGOT!! MISSING WILL BE FOUND!!" He screams out loud, while running to the next room to look for you

> Alright.... it's been some time now. Where are you?... He is going to miss you buddy. He cares for his team, and is actually worried.

> When you are found he will lecture you how to not get kidnapped or lost again. That especially applies if you are his partner (you won't escape crushing night cuddles)

> Give him love, he missed you a lot, even if he doesn't show it

Sniper:

> He notices your absence after a while. Does it make him worry about you? Nope. He is going to come back to him van or practice his sniping skills not thinking about your disappearance too much. You all have a lot of work to do after all

> Hours will pass before he finnaly decides to look for you. Just to see where you are so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore

> When checking your most visited spots don't bring him any luck he'll ask some of teammembers about you.

> When it brings no luck he decides to look for you on his own. Come on.... where are you mate.

> After you are back safe and sound expect him to be not far away from you for.... three or more days, watching you from far away. Just to be sure you won't disappear without a word.

>If you are in relationship with him, he won't show any signs of beeing worried, but privately he'll give you a hug, or hold your hands close to his face

> He missed you... and he is glad you are back

Spy:

> He know you are missing before anyone does.

> He know his teammates well, from their activities to schedules and habits. He is a Spy after all, his job is to mimic people.

>When you are not doing something that according to his observation, you were supposed to do, he is going to look for you (invisible of course)

> Strange.... you are not here... not in your favourite spot... not around your favourite people. This.... is bad news.

> He lets everyone know you are missing, and is the first to volunteer to look for you

> Back at the base he isn't going to stick around you very long. Just long enough to know you are well. He is kind enough to make you a drink

> When you are that one special person close to him, know he is going to take you to his room to give you best treatment you have ever received in your entire life. He will ask questions, how, who, what, why's and all that. Be patient with him, he wants to know details.

> Kisses on cheeks and hands, to let you know he missed you

Engineer:

> He is a busy man, but he is observant one too and is going to notice you aren't around.

> Will ask around first instead of looking for you by himself. When answer won't satisfy him, this is when he'll look for you.

> Is the first one to rase the alarm to let everyone know you are missing

> Come on.... where are you?? It isn't like you to just be gone for so long...

> He is the one to find you and bring you back safely. Is the one to give you check up alongside Medic

> Expect him to ask you a lot of questions, just to be sure you are feeling alright. Will not leave your side for a while and is going to check on you from time to time bringing cookies or something to drink, like water or tea

> "Darlin' stay with me will Ya? Just... want to be with you" He is sweet one, wanting best for his partner, in the romantic way too. He doesn't want you to be missing again when he is being distracted with his work. Hold his hand and kiss him! He wants to be sure you are save dear...

[spooky-pomegranate]

Through The Door:

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Ghost doesn't trust you and when he hears you and Captain Price fighting in his office he stops to listen. But he hears and sees more than he ever expected.

It’s been ten days of this. Ten days of watching, following, and listening. And somehow it still hadn’t been enough time. Ghost still hadn’t caught you. But he knew he would. He just had to remain patient. He’d keep watching. You’d slip up eventually. He was sure of it.

Even if you did have everyone else fooled.

In just ten days, you had already made fast friends with Johnny. The two of you were always laughing and telling one another stupid jokes and stories.

The last thing you’d carried on about was music. You preferred old-school rock and roll. The Stones, The Who, The Beatles. But you liked classical too. You made fun of Soap for his favorite genre, cheery electropop. You called it music for “love-sick teenage girls” and teased him endlessly. He called you “a walking iPod shuffle” and said you were confused about your own taste. You playfully punched Johnny in the arm before you both laughed like hyenas.

It was like you were siblings, the way you constantly bantered and bickered. It set Ghost on edge. You both were so comfortable around each other. It was so familiar, so natural… It wasn’t right.

And Gaz, he wasn’t any better. You had asked him for additional training and on most days, Ghost found you two at the shooting range long after the recruits had left for dinner. At first, your conversations were shallow. In between firing rounds of high-caliber ammunition, you asked him about his life on base and how long he’d known Soap and Price. But the conversations eventually grew longer. And they grew deeper. Gaz told you about his family, his hometown, and his childhood. You told him about how difficult it was to leave the States and move to the UK on your own.

Ghost could tell that as the days were passing and as your conversations were growing more meaningful, the two of you were starting to trust one another more. And that frustrated him. Why couldn’t Gaz see what he saw in you?

He wondered if your skills were what threw the others off.

Ghost couldn’t deny that you were better than most of the other recruits. You were a natural at the shooting range. You picked up on techniques quickly and put them into practice almost flawlessly. And even though you pretended to be intimidated by it in the beginning you were especially good with a sniper rifle. You always asked the right questions about the winds, the terrain, and any potential bullet drop. And while Ghost found that suspicious, Gaz seemed to be amazed by it. Proud even. He joked with you about how quickly you could do math in your head and how that would come in handy if you were ever posted up in a sniper’s nest someday.

“Over my dead body,” Ghost had mumbled to himself as he watched you both from the shadows.

But you weren’t perfect. When Ghost did pull himself out of the base’s dark corners and did talk with you, you were always nervous. You spoke at breakneck speeds. Your sentences mushed together, like a quickly moving mudslide, totally out of control and unpredictable. You struggled to look him in the eyes. You fidgeted, stared at your shoes, and gave him any excuse you could to get away.

 “Sorry can’t chat, Johnny wants to train in the gym.”

 “I think I just heard Gaz call my name.”

 “Gotta go. Price needs me.”

And Price… you definitely had that man wrapped around your little finger. Or at least Ghost thought you did until one night when he heard you two fighting inside the Captain’s office.

“Price, why won’t you tell me what you and Laswell are planning for the raid?”

Your words had stopped Ghost in his tracks. He glanced down the empty hall to make sure no one was around before sinking to his knees and pressing his ear to the door of Price’s office.

“Come on, love we’ve been over this,” he heard the Captain answer.

“But I can help!”

Your voice was pleading. You were practically begging Price. But why did you care so much Ghost wondered?

“I want you to focus on training. You asked me to teach you to fight remember?”

“I know… but you also promised to let me take some of the weight off your shoulders too.”

“You’re too smart, you know that.”

“Price…” you whined the Captain’s name and Ghost rolled his eyes. He imagined that on the other side of the door, you were probably looking up at Price with doe eyes. Needy and wanton. God… you probably were pouting your lips too.

He could only hope that Price would see through you.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be before then. I can handle this, I promise ya I’m fine. We’ve got more resources and men now. It’s not like before. We aren’t alone anymore. Ya trust me don’t you?”

Good man, Ghost thought to himself. Don’t give in to her so easily. As long as Price continued to keep his cards close to his chest maybe they’d all get through this in one piece.

“But what if he’s there? What if he has my briefcase there and he’s figured out how to use it? He’ll see you coming. Price what if this is a setup?” You were doing that thing where you spoke 100 miles an hour again, your words sloshing and sliding into one another.

“Laswell’s been surveilling the area. He hasn’t been there. Your briefcase isn’t there.”

“Price but what if-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Come here, love.”

Ghost heard the sound of a chair scrape and footsteps shuffle away from the door. He knew you were walking over to Price. He could practically see you standing in front of him in his mind.

Then you sighed.

“I’m tired, Price.” Your voice was softer. Ghost could barely hear you now. He tried to press even closer to the door. The metal was cold against his ear. “I know I asked for this… learning how to fight. But it’s harder than I thought it would be and…”

You stopped.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Your Lieutenant…”

Shit. Your voice was muffled.

Shit. He needed to hear this.

Ghost slowly reached for the door handle and carefully, he turned the knob. The door opened the smallest crack. He peered inside.

You were sitting across the room, straddled on Price’s lap. Your head was buried against his chest. The Captain’s hands rubbed against the back of your t-shirt in lazy circles.

“Ghost? What about him, sweetheart?”

At the sound of Price’s voice, you pulled your head from his chest.

“He hates me.”

Price stilled and his jaw clenched. Neither of you spoke. Ghost held his breath before looking to his left and right. Thankfully, the coast was still clear.

“He doesn’t trust you,” Price eventually said, breaking through the silence.

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

You sighed loudly and moved to stand, but Price reached up and quickly pulled you back toward him by your hips.

“Don’t leave,” Price said, his voice low and firm. “I trust you.”

“Then why doesn’t he?”

Because I know there’s something else going on with you, Ghost thought to himself. Because I know there’s a secret you’re hiding.

“Because he doesn’t know you like I do.” Price replied, his hand moving up your spine to hold the back of your head. “He doesn’t know how smart you are. That you can build something from nothing. He doesn’t know that you’re a fighter, that you’ve been dealt a shite hand in life but you’ve always soldiered on.”

Price leaned forward and kissed you.

Ghost looked down at the floor. He should leave, he thought. He should go back to the barracks and sit behind his computer and look for dirt on you that way. It would be less awkward. He’d feel less strange.

But Ghost didn’t move. He couldn’t.

What if this was the moment you finally slipped? What if you said something? He needed to be more patient. He’d stay a little longer. If only for Gaz, for Johnny. If they got hurt because he missed something he’d never forgive himself.

He watched as Price leaned back, pulling away from your lips. A smile sprawled across his face.

“He doesn’t know how sweet you taste either, sweetheart.”

You laughed, running your own hands through Price’s short hair as the Captain dove into your neck.

“I mean it, love. If any of those boys got to taste you like I do, if they got to feel you like I do…” Price pulled back from your neck and looked you in the eye. “If they got to fuck you like I do… none of them would ever distrust you.”

“Price, that isn’t really reassuring. You’re just saying you trust me because we’ve fucked.”

Ghost’s grip tightened against the door knob. Was that what Price was saying? Was that really all you were to him? A plaything?

He opened the door another inch. He needed to see your face better. He had to know what this was between you and his Captain.

“Remember the first day I brought you here? And I took you to my room. And I showed you all my scars. Do you remember?”

Ghost watched as Price tugged on your hair. Your head tilted back toward the ceiling and the captain dove into your neck again, kissing you just below your ear.

“Yes,” you answered with heavily weighted breath.

“And do you remember how you kissed me? How you teased me before you slid your sweet little tongue into my mouth? Do you remember?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in affirmation.

“And do you remember how good it felt when my tongue was in between your legs? How it felt when my beard brushed against your thighs.”

Ghost felt his face grow hot. The scene in front of him made him feel like an intruder, a dirty and unwelcome voyeur. He knew he should leave.

But he couldn't make himself move.

He needed the truth.

He watched as one of Price’s hands left your hair and trailed slowly down your body. His fingers moved from your collarbone. Lower. Grazing your breast. Lower. Lingering over your stomach… Lower.

“Yesssss,” you whined as Price’s hand slid underneath the waistband of your pants and disappeared from Ghost’s view.

“And do you remember how hard you made me? Just by tasting you? Tell me you remember.”

You whimpered. It was a sound Ghost had never heard from you. Sweet. High-pitched. Soft.

Price’s shoulder moved up and down. His hand still plunged between your legs.

Ghost swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“I- fuckkkk,” you bucked your hips toward Price, “I remember.”

“And tell me you remember how I fucked you. When I first pushed inside you… how was it? Do you remember was I fast, like this?”

Ghost watched as Price moved his hand quicker. In and out. His right shoulder rose. Up and down. Faster, faster, and faster.

You yelped. The noise was loud and short. Your hands left Price’s hair and dug into his shoulders. You were clawing into him desperately. Falling apart with every second, every movement.

“No… no you weren’t fast,” your voice wavered as you answered.

“Good. Good girl. You remembered. Yeah, I was slow, just like this. Wasn’t I?” Price eased his pace, slowing down the movement of his hand buried in your pants.

“Yes… just like that,” you moaned as your eyes rolled back. You were lifting your hips up and down on Price’s lap now. Matching his pace.

Ghost shifted on his knees. His hand tightened against the doorknob as he continued to watch you both from the dimly lit hall.

“Has anyone else ever made you feel like that before, sweetheart? Has anyone ever made you feel that good?” Price asked as his voice dropped lower. He was practically growling at you.

And you…your face turned pink. Your lips parted. Your eyes closed. And your breathing… it became sporadic. Each inhale became a gasp. Each exhale became more desperate than the last.

This was wrong. Ghost shouldn’t be watching this. This wasn’t his intention. He never meant to see this. His eyes fell to the ground. But still, he stayed. He listened.

“No,” you moaned.

“That’s right. And no one has ever made me feel as good as you did either. You felt so good, love. So fucking good. And you want to know why I trust you?”

Ghost eyes snapped back to the two of you. This was the answer he needed.

“Mmmm tell me...” you gasped. The Captain picked up his pace, his hand delving between your legs with greater force. God the sounds your body was making. They were so loud. “Please tell me, Price.”

“It’s because I love you, beautiful. I’m so in love with you. You’re so perfect. I trust you with my life because I love you. I want to fuck you like that all the time… because I love you. If anyone got to love you like I love you they would trust you. Forever. Always.”

Ghost heard enough. He quietly backed away and gently closed the door.

He had found a truth today. Even if it wasn’t his place to hear it.

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

(More from this story on AO3)

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Fake Out Part 2 -Oneshot

Sorry this took me a minute, I had some work shit this last week and a half. Here's the highly requested part 2!

Word count: 5633

Part 1

Y/N went back to the way things were.  Or…at least as much as they could be.  She didn’t outright try to ignore Bucky, but she didn’t engage with him like she had tried to before, and every time Sam tried to pair them up on a mission again she would make an excuse as to why she couldn’t do it.  He didn’t try to engage with her, either, which wasn’t out of the ordinary from before that fateful mission, but apparently it was enough that one day Sam sat her down in the conference room.

“I need you and Bucky–”

“Sorry, no can do–”

“Too damn bad,” Sam griped.  Y/N glared at him then looked away.  “Okay, obviously something happened on that mission.  You don’t have to tell me, but you and him are going to have to get over it,” he continued.  “And I need you both on the next mission.  You because all of our other female spies are out of commission, and him because of his sniper and stealth skills.”

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded.  She didn’t want this weirdness to affect her job.  She could be professional.  “Alright, what’s the play?”

***

She adjusted her dress again, feeling uncomfortable as she waited.  The dress she’d worn at the previous mission with Bucky had been slightly revealing but classy.  This one was just revealing to a degree that she didn’t like.  But that was the whole point.  She was the bait to get the target into the right position for Bucky to take him out.  A quick and easy assassination.  

“Target entering,” Bucky’s voice whispered in the comm nestled in her ear.  “Straight ahead of you.”

Y/N subtly nodded in affirmation then turned her body to the side to show off the slit of the dress that rode up to the juncture of her hip, making her have to wear underwear that was barely there.  She stuck that hip out and leaned against the bar, sipping her soda water disguised as a cocktail.  

“Heading towards the bar,” Bucky said.  

She didn’t have to wait long.  “Well, hello there,” a man’s voice said close to her.

Y/N turned her head towards him and looked up into the face of their target.  She gave him an appreciative look up and down and a smirk.  “Hi,” she said seductively.

He gave her the same look, though his gaze was much more hungry.  “You here alone, gorgeous?”

Y/N giggled lightly.  “Yeah,” she said in a mock forlorn tone, pouting as she turned to face him more, puffing her chest out just enough that his eyes couldn’t help but to flick down to her breasts that felt like they could spill out of the dress at any moment.  “My friends stood me up.”

“Some friends,” he said with a frown.  “Well, may I join you and get you a drink?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile and a shrug.  He sat down next to her and ordered two drinks before putting his hand out in greeting.  “I’m Shades.”

“Shades?” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle again.

He huffed a laugh with her.  “I know, it’s a dumb nickname.”

She glanced at the sunglasses hanging onto his jacket pocket.  “Are sunglasses usually glued to your face?” she joked.

His smile widened.  “You’re funny,” he said as he leaned in closer.  “Got any other talents other than being devastatingly beautiful?”

She heard Bucky snort in her ear and she bit back a smile.  She hummed at Shades and slightly leaned toward him.  “I’ve got a few,” she said quietly.  “Though I think we both know you don’t care about any of that.”

Shades’ eyebrows raised and his smile turned into a mischievous grin.  “Who says I don’t?”  

Y/N arched an eyebrow at him and her gaze flicked toward his obvious growing boner then back up to his face.  Shades followed her gaze then scoffed before taking a big swig of his drink.  “I think all you care about…” Y/N started as she leaned in close to his ear, her left hand putting down the drink so she could cup the side of his face and her right hand could grip his bicep.  “...is how my pretty red lips would look around your cock.  Am I right?”

Shades sputtered out a sharp breath and his hands immediately moved to her hips, pulling her body flush to his and closing the distance between them to kiss at her collarbone.  “Is mind reading one of your talents?” he asked gruffly.

Y/N could hear a rustling in her ear as Bucky moved somewhere.  She hummed again as she reached her hand on his face back into his hair and scratched her nails down his scalp.  She turned her face and opened her mouth to lick at the shell of his ear.  “One of many,” she whispered before nipping his ear.

Shades groaned against her neck then suddenly stood and took her hand.  He gave her a knowing smirk then pulled her towards the door to the men’s bathroom.  She rolled her eyes when he wasn’t looking.  How romantic, she thought wryly.  

“Getting in position,” Bucky’s voice sounded in her ear.

Y/N hummed in affirmation as Shades brought her into the bathroom and to the biggest stall, shutting the door behind her and locking it before shoving her against the wall and kissing her passionately.  She went along with the motions, kissing him back and letting him touch her as she kept him distracted.  She wasn’t sure where Bucky was, but as the seconds dragged on and Shades was getting handsier she grunted, hoping Bucky would hear the complaint in her voice.  

If she hadn’t been paying attention she wouldn’t have heard it, but there was a light patting sound that made her open her eyes.  Bucky had just landed from one of the beams up in the ceiling and was standing back up straight behind Shades.  He had a good few inches on him, but it was the look on his face that made her almost freeze.  He was looking at Shades with a murderous glare, his nose almost twitching into a snarl as he raised the lethal injection syringe in his hand that would kill him almost instantly and make it look like a heart attack.

Y/N broke the kiss and sank to her knees to fiddle with Shades’ belt buckle and get out of Bucky’s way.  “That’s it, gorgeous,” Shades sighed.  “Show me how good you take it–”

He suddenly stiffened, his voice cracking, then a moment later he was set down roughly by Bucky next to the toilet.  Y/N let out a heavy sigh and checked Shades’ pulse, then nodded and stood back up to face Bucky.  “He’s gone.  Took you long enough–”

She froze when Bucky’s flesh hand cupped the side of her face.  She looked up at him with wide eyes as he took a step closer, crowding her against the wall again.  Her heart thundered as they stared at each other for a long while, his eyes flickering across her face repeatedly, then his thumb reached over to her bottom lip and swiped at it slowly.  “He messed up your lipstick,” he said quietly, but there was a bitterness beneath it.

She blinked at him dumbfoundedly, then slightly nodded.  “I’m sure,” she said with a small frown.

He kept staring at her lips, then his eyes slipped down her body slowly, like he was taking in every minute detail, then back up until he met her gaze.  “You good?” he asked, his tone sounding more caring.

Y/N stared at him for a moment before her gaze softened.  “I’m good,” she whispered.  “You good?”

Bucky blinked at the question, his gaze softening as well before he nodded.  “I’m good,” he breathed.  She let him stay there for a moment longer, unsure about what it was that was going on, but somehow knowing that he needed it.  After another minute of silence he blinked again and inhaled deeply before dropping his hand from her face and stepping away.  “I’ll get him placed while you clean up, then meet you at the car in 5 minutes.”

Y/N automatically nodded and moved out of the stall, closing the door behind her and going to the mirror.  Her lipstick was smudged along her lower lip, and she quickly fixed it and her hair up, readjusting her dress for the hundredth time before walking out of the bathroom and the bar.  She hightailed it to the car waiting just down the street, her feet starting to kill her in the sky high heels they’d given her as part of her outfit.  She only had to wait by the car for a minute before it beeped as it unlocked and she quickly got in the front seat and buckled herself in, with Bucky sliding into the driver’s seat only a moment later.  He drove off quickly, then after they were a safe distance away he nodded in her direction and she pulled out her phone to call Sam.

“Report?”  Sam’s voice chimed out in the car.

“The target has been eliminated,” Y/N said stiffly.  “On the way to the safe house.”

“Great job,” he said proudly.  “We’ll do mission debriefs when you get in tomorrow.”

“Thanks Sam,” she said.  “See you tomorrow.”

“Drive safe,” he said, then hung up.

Y/N relaxed against the seat.  Now that the mission was officially over her body and mind were exhausted, and the hyper vigilance and focus she’d had earlier was now giving way to the awkward situation she was in with Bucky again.  What was that in the bathroom?  After how he’d reacted from their previous mission, and then ignored her, why did it seem like he…maybe cared?  Or even seemed a little jealous?  She tried to subtly shake away those thoughts, pulling down her dress as much as possible as it threatened to ride up even higher on her hip.

Bucky cleared his throat next to her and she looked over at him.  She caught him staring at her exposed leg, then quickly looking back towards the road, slightly shifting in his seat and his jaw ticking as he took a deep breath.  Well, good to know that the attraction was real, she thought wryly as she rolled her eyes and looked out the passenger window.  After a 45 minute drive of weird tension they finally reached the safe house.  They grabbed their bags from the trunk and headed inside.  Y/N didn’t take a moment to even look at the house, she just wanted to get to her room, which she had made extra sure with Sam that there were two bedrooms this time, and get out of this goddamn dress.

Just as she opened the bedroom door Bucky cleared his throat again from the doorway to the other bedroom.  “Y/N?” he asked quietly.

Dammit, she thought.  She put on a clear expression and looked at him.  He looked nervous, and had a hard time keeping eye contact with her.  “Yeah?”

“Could we talk?” he pleaded, giving her the best puppy dog-sad eyes she’d ever seen. 

She didn’t want to.  But then again she did.  Would it change anything?  Did it even matter?  It’s not like they were even friends necessarily.  “Sure,” she heard herself say.  “Come on in.”  She wasn’t sure why she invited him, but she did, and kept the door open behind her as she walked in and dropped her bag by the bed.  He whispered a thanks to her as he followed her in and dropped his bag by the door before standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.  Y/N sat on the bed with a huff and started taking off the heels, then looked up at him expectantly.  “Would you like to sit down?” she asked him, her head tilting towards the end of the bed.  

He nodded and headed towards the bed as she slipped one shoe off and then the other, holding back a hiss as she stretched her toes and flexed her ankles, then propped herself up on the bed more comfortably and faced him, the slit in her dress making it easy for her to bend her leg and tuck it underneath her other leg.  Bucky swallowed thickly, licked his lips and looked everywhere but at her for a while as his fingers fiddled in his lap for a while until he finally met her gaze.  “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

Y/N didn’t move, waiting for more, but he didn’t give any.�� Her impatience bristled beneath her skin but she calmed herself as she stared at him.  “For what?” she asked.

Bucky hung his head.  “For what happened on the last mission,” he said.  “For indulging in the cover, taking it too far, and then just leaving you alone without an explanation.  And for not being kind to you like you deserved before.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say or do, so she just stayed still.  An apology was nice, but not enough.  “Why?” she asked.

Bucky shook his head and laughed bitterly.  “Because I’m a coward,” he huffed.  “I thought you were beautiful, talented, intelligent, and sweet from the moment we met.  But something in me just…I ruin things,” he said sadly, finally meeting her gaze again.  “I’m a mess.  So even if I did get the chance to become friends or something special with you, I’d just fuck it up and lose another person in my life.  And I’ve already lost a lot so…I pushed you away.  And then I was selfish on the mission and took advantage of the cover because I knew it was the only time I’d ever get to be close to you like that.  When you said you wanted me–”

“I said maybe,” Y/N interrupted, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh, which made her smile widen.  “Alright, maybe,” he conceded.  “I realized just how stupid I’d been in pushing you away, because there could have been a chance, and it just made me shut down.  So I’m sorry, for all of it.  I understand if you’d rather not associate with me, and if that’s what you want I’ll respect that and we’ll just be coworkers–”

“Hm, see there’s a problem, though,” Y/N said.  Bucky blinked, a slight frown pulling at his eyebrows.  “Coworkers aren’t supposed to be attracted to each other,” she said with a playful shrug.  “And I feel like the way you’ve been staring at me in this dress, and the way you seemed upset with me kissing Shades tonight as part of the cover proves that you won’t be able to just be coworkers with me.”  Bucky’s frown slid off his face and was replaced by something that looked wanton, his eyelids fluttering as he looked down at her dress again.  “Am I right?” she asked, tilting her head as a triumphant smirk graced her lips.

He let out a stuttered breath before meeting her eyes again.  “Yes,” he whispered.

Y/N hummed again and slightly leaned forward, leaning on her hand as she kept eye contact with him.  Her breasts really felt like they could fall out of the sad excuse for a dress any moment as she moved, and she could see Bucky struggle to keep his eyes on her face.  “I think you got hard listening to me say those things to him,” she said seductively.  “And that you were happy to kill him just to get his filthy lips and hands off of me.”

“Yes,” he nodded desperately, scooting himself closer to her but not touching her yet.

“And I think you liked the way my lipstick was smudged,” she whispered, closing the distance between them and nuzzling his nose with her nose, then ghosting her lips over his lips.  “Because you imagined being the one to mess it up with my pretty red lips around your cock, huh?”

He shuddered at her words, his forehead pressing against hers as if to keep him upright as his hands inched towards her on bed, his fingers shaking as he got closer to touching her.  “Y/N please,” he begged, his eyes looking wet like he could cry at any moment.  

“You want me?” she asked, repeating his teasing question from that first mission.  

Bucky huffed a sharp breath, his eyebrows pulled together in need as he stared deep into her eyes.  “Yes,” he said, the word sounding slurred.

She teased his lips with hers again, pulling a whimper from him as she kissed the corner of his mouth.  She loved having this effect on him.  Now that all the weird tension and apprehension between them was sorted, it thrilled her to know that the mutual attraction wasn’t a fluke or product of the cover, and made her feel free to let him have her.  “You gonna treat me nice?” she breathed.

“Fuck yes,” Bucky nearly growled.  “I’ll treat you so nice, doll, I promise.”

“Doll?” Y/N giggled then hummed.  “I like that.”  Then she finally kissed him.  

It was like the last shred of his decency snapped and Bucky’s hands immediately reached for her as he kissed her back passionately.  He grabbed her and hauled her into his lap, making her straddle his hips.  His hands gripped her hips tightly, squeezing the flesh there before his hand moved to the slit in her dress that had ridden up so far it was revealing her skimpy underwear strap.  His fingers felt over her skin and along the crease of her leg to her hip, his thumb sliding under the strap for a moment as the rest of his hand circled over her ass cheek and gripped it hard, making her gasp against his mouth.

“This fucking dress,” he murmured between kisses.  “These thighs, this mouth…” his tongue licked along her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth obediently to let him taste her.  He groaned into her mouth as her tongue entangled with his, the open-mouthed kisses getting dirtier by the second.  “So fucking hot, doll,” he said lowly.  “You taste so good.”  He pulled away just a bit to look at her as his hands moved from her hips up over her stomach to just under her breasts, pausing until she nodded and then cupping them in his hands.  “These tits,” he breathed.  “Watching you fix the dress all night was maddening.”

Y/N giggled breathily at that.  “You liked watching me struggle to keep myself decent?” she teased.

“Yes,” Bucky answered immediately and unashamedly.  He lowered his head and kissed the swell of each breast as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples through the dress.  She lightly moaned at the sensation, her back arching and pushing her breasts into his hands.  “You’re too much for this dress,” he spoke against her skin, then quickly pulled it down.  Her breasts spilled over the flimsy fabric that had barely kept them in, the straps on her shoulders falling to rest on her biceps loosely.  The air on her bare skin felt glorious, but was quickly replaced by the heat of his mouth as he lifted her left breast first and licked her nipple.  Her head fell back as she moaned louder, her hips trembling against him at the pleasure shooting through her body.

“Bucky,” she groaned, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

He moaned against her breast.  “That’s it, doll,” he said, and she could feel his smile against her skin.  

He moved from one breast to the other and back again, kissing, licking and sucking at her nipples then pushing her breasts together and shoving his face between them.  Y/N felt like she was vibrating as the pleasure built up between her legs, her fingers shaking as her grip slid down his arms until she was hanging onto his wrists for dear life.  She had never been this close to cumming just from nipple play before, but she couldn’t blame herself with this man in her chest.

Her hips started to try to grind against him and he let out another shuddering breath.  “Goddammit,” he huffed.  “So dirty, Y/N.”  He moved his mouth back up her chest to her neck, sucking at the crook of her neck like he had during that first mission.  “Can I feel those pretty lips around my cock?” he asked as he licked at her collarbone.  “Ever since you said it I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Y/N smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair, which made him melt against her.  “Alright, baby,” she sighed.  He looked up at her at the pet name and looked almost astonished that anyone would call him that.  She climbed off his lap and stood at the edge of the bed.  “Strip, then lay down.”  He nodded frantically then stood and took his clothes off in record time, nearly ripping his shirt.  Once naked he lay down on the bed with his head at the pillows, his legs slightly spread.  Y/N took a moment to look at him fully.  He was beautiful, hard muscle and scars all proof of the hard life he’d lived, and yet with the soft, yearning look in his eyes offsetting the rough but handsome exterior.  His cock was pulsing with need, leaning upwards against this stomach, and she felt her mouth water as she looked at it.  He was larger than any other she had before, but she liked the challenge and felt he ache between her legs increase at knowing how much he’d be able to fill her up.  “So pretty, baby,” she said as she started to pull the dress off.  

Bucky’s eyes widened as she revealed herself and tossed the dress on the floor, then shimmied out of the skimpy underwear that had covered virtually nothing under the dress to accommodate the slit.  He let out a choked whimper as his eyes slid down her body.  She didn’t let him look too long before climbing back onto the bed and nestling between his legs on her knees.  Her hands landed on his thighs, rubbing up towards his groin slowly as she looked him over then met his gaze as she hovered over his cock.  She kept eye contact with him as she leaned down and licked it from near his balls, up the shaft and to the tip.  His stomach flinched and his hands gripped the blanket beneath him, the metal one whirring louder than usual and making a ripping noise in the fabric.  His mouth dropped open and his head fell back against the bed with a muted thud.

“Oh my god,” he sputtered.  

“When were you last sucked, baby?” Y/N asked him, her right hand wrapping around his cock and holding him upright as she moved to more comfortably settle on her stomach, her breasts pressing against his balls and her left hand settling on his stomach lazily.  

Bucky moaned at the feeling of her breasts on him, looking back down at her as she slowly started to stroke him.  “I…I-I don’t remember,” he confessed, looking a little embarrassed.

Y/N quickly smiled at him and kissed the tip of his cock gently.  “That’s okay, Buck,” she said, then spit on it and used her saliva to lube him up more with her hand.  “I’ll treat you real nice.”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer and took him in her mouth, giving him a good suck around the tip.  Bucky’s head fell back again and his hands moved to her hair, pulling it back and away from her face with his metal hand and his right hand cupping her jaw, his thumb caressing the hinge of her jaw as she opened her mouth wider to take his cock further.  His breathing was heavy and shallow as she took her time, licking him from base to tip and randomly taking him down her throat as far as she could for as long as she could, then bobbing up and down on it in different paces, one time going fast and the next going agonizingly slow.  It made her feel powerful, having this much effect over him.

After a particularly hard suck as she bobbed her head Bucky stiffened and pulled her off of his cock.  “Fuck, doll…stop, stop stop stop,” he panted.  “I’m so close.”

Y/N smirked and kissed the tip again before sitting up on her knees.  He took a moment to breathe and stare at her then hauled himself up and kissed her before turning them both so she was laying on the bed on her back and he nestled his hips against hers.  It was just like the time she’d woken up with him on top of her, the memory making her smile.  His cock slipped between her lower lips, already wet with her arousal from sucking him.

He groaned as he thrust his hips and rubbed along her pussy as his hands held her hips still and his face pressed into the space between her breasts.  “Can I fuck you, doll?” he asked, his words slurring as his hips kept humping her and his lips pressed heavy kisses against her breasts.  “Please?  Can I fill you up or do we need something?  Please say we don’t–”

“We don’t,” Y/N said quickly, kissing the top of his head and running her fingers through his hair.  

“I mean, it’s okay if we do,” he amended, looking up at her.  “Whatever you want, whatever you need–”

“I’ve got it, Buck,” Y/N giggled and pulled him up to hover over her.  “Just fuck me.  I want you to fill me.”

His eyelids fluttered at that, and he pressed his forehead against hers.  “God, you’re perfect,” he sighed.  “Thank you.”  He shifted his hips and his flesh hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself for a moment before lining up with her, then keeping her gaze as he thrust into her.  Y/N slightly tensed at first, since it had been a while, but the more he pushed in the more the ache in her core felt satiated, making her feel like she was melting into the bed, being properly filled and stretched for the first time in her life.  Bucky’s mouth was agape as he sucked in sharp, shallow breaths with each inch he sunk in until he could go no further, then closed his mouth and let out a sigh through his nose with a deep groan that reverberated in his chest.  “Holy shit,” he said, his voice strained and his muscles tense.  

Y/N moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair.  “Bucky,” she whined.  “Oh my fucking god!”

He smirked at her reaction and leaned in to kiss her deeply.  “You feel amazing, doll,” he praised her.  “Squeezing me already…so tight, Y/N, fuck,” he sputtered as her pussy fluttered around him.  His hips rutted into her involuntarily, pulling a deep, raspy moan from her chest, and it made his smile widen.  “So sensitive and reactive,” he said breathily.  “Am I making you feel good, doll?  Huh?  I’m already treating you so nice, aren't I?”

Y/N frantically nodded as her hands left his hair to slide down his back, her legs wrapping around his hips and trying to make him move.  “Yyyeesss baby,” she hissed.  “Please, please move!”

Bucky wrapped his arms around her tightly and braced his knees on the bed.  “Begging me now?” he teased, nipping at her throat.  “Anything for you, doll.”

His hips reared back and snapped into her, his hold on her making her squirm against him as the pleasure shot through her spine.  She whined loudly in his ear, and he continued that same slow but hard pace of thrust into her.  He was letting her feel all of him, fully enveloping her with his arms and his body, his kisses never stopping as his lips traversed across her face, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, down to her breasts, and even nipping at her shoulders in retaliation during those moments when her pussy threatened to finish too soon.

The pressure in her pelvis built embarrassingly fast, and she could feel herself edging her orgasm.  She tried to push it down, wanting this to last longer, but her body betrayed her as his hips picked up the pace, hitting deep inside when he switched between thrusting and rolling.  “B-Bucky…baby…I’m gonna…”

“Cum, Y/N,” he huffed against her cheek.  “Go ahead and cum whenever you want.  I won’t be done with you yet.”  Y/N smiled and let herself relax, which let her finish within seconds.  She whimpered as she orgasmed, her pussy squeezing him tightly as she stiffened beneath him.  Bucky watched her face as she came, his eyelids fluttering and his own whimper mixing with hers at how she felt.  “Good girl,” he praised her.  “Such a good girl.  God, that felt good.  You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?”  His hips had stopped for a moment to let her relax, then he pulled himself out and unraveled his arms around her, sitting up on his knees.  She looked at him in confusion until he gripped her leg and twisted her over onto her stomach, then gripped her hips and pulled them up so she was propped up with her ass in the air.  Y/N shivered at the new position, secretly loving it even more because of the primal nature of it.  Without warning he entered back into her with a quick snap, and she squealed at the sudden but perfect fullness.  

“BUCK!” she shrieked.  Her hips were already trembling at this new angle, her pussy starting tiny spasms as he hit a deeper spot than before.  She braced herself against the mattress, her fingers gripping the comforter desperately as her face thrashed into it.  Her legs instinctively spread wider, her hips opening and raising her ass a little higher.  “Please!”

He moaned at the way she adjusted to him, giving her right ass cheek a swift smack.  “That’s it, doll.  Taking me so well.”  He restarted his previous pace of thrusts, his hands holding her hips still or pulling her back onto him.  “Look at me treating you so nice, huh?  Is this what you wanted?  Maybe you don’t like nice…you like it hard, and rough, and dirty, don’t you?”

His words sent a thrill through her heart, making her nerve endings feel like they were all sparkling with electricity and her mind becoming foggy with pleasure and lust.  She lazily nodded, humming in affirmation with her voice muffled by the blankets.  His thrusts became even faster, and his metal hand tickled up her back to the back of her neck, gripping it hard but not painfully.  It was more of a grounding touch, and she appreciated his unspoken reminder to her that she was safe and would be taken care of, even if he was rough.  

“Yes, please Bucky,” she begged.  “Make it hurt.”

He gasped at that, his metal fingers tightening around her neck.  “Fuck, Y/N,” he said lowly.  “Okay, doll, but you asked for it.”

He nearly mounted her, his feet planting on the bed so he was pummeling his hips into her from a more downward angle, putting his weight on her as the thrusts became brutal.  She squealed again at the change in angle, her breaths coming out in shallow, uneven puffs heating the blanket beneath her face.  Her fingers shook at how hard she was gripping the blanket, and she could feel the pleasure building more than it ever had before.  Her voice became raspy with how much she was moaning, whimpering and grunting.  Her pussy fluttered in warning.

“Cum again, doll,” Bucky commanded.  “Oh my god, yes, soak me.  Soak me!”

All the sensations came together in a rush, and Y/N screamed as she came.  A gush of cum came from her and splattered both of their thighs as he fucked her through it, then she felt him shudder behind her and snap his hips hard as he moaned loudly and a blooming warmth filled her, adding to the pleasurable aftershocks of her orgasm and making her shiver.  He let out a string of curses and praises to her as he filled her, and with a couple more ruts of his hips he sunk down on his knees then fell to his side, taking her with him to lay on her side with her back pressed against his front.  He kept himself inside her as best as he could, his hands roaming her body as he held her gently and kissed the side of her face and down her neck to her shoulder.  

“How was that, doll?” he asked quietly, nuzzling the crook of her neck.  “Did I treat you nice enough?  Fuck, you felt so good…squirting on me like that…you soaked me so good pretty girl–”

She absentmindedly nodded, clearing her throat from how tired her voice felt.  “So good, Bucky,” she breathed, barely lifting her head to look back at him.  “Fuck…I’ve never done that before.”

Bucky smiled proudly, squeezing her in a hug.  “Thank you, Y/N,” he said almost reverently.  “Thank you for forgiving me and letting us start over.”

Y/N hummed, her hands squeezing his arms around her.  Her head felt fuzzy, that last orgasm making her lightheaded and suddenly drowsy.  “Thank you for the fucking,” she slurred.

He laughed and kissed her cheek.  “You good?” He asked the same question as he had on the mission.

“I’m good,” she breathed.  “You good?”

“So good,” he groaned.  “So good.”

[cheemscakecat]

Bucket Scene Analysis pt. 1

So I’m revisiting the Bucket Scene from Expiration Date, and I noticed some things. Spy’s feelings got really hurt, but the other Mercenaries didn’t mean to seriously upset him. Let’s go over their POV first.

Engineer and Medic are doing more experiments on the teleporter, so they aren’t present for the bucket scene. They’ll be trying to figure out a way to stop the tumors for the next three days instead of accepting the team’s deaths.

Soldier is too dumb to understand what’s going on, and Pyro presumably isn’t aware enough of his surroundings.

Demoman comes from a family with really disturbing traditions; they let him live as an orphan and only revealed themselves after he killed his adoptive family in an explosion… Because he was showing his skill. He’s actually expected to lose his sight entirely like his parents. Out of anybody there who knows what’s happening, he’s the most unbothered by them dying because of that twisted heritage.

Sniper calls his parents every week, and I’m sure he’s told them/about to tell them what’s happening. But he also has a plan to kill everyone he meets, so even if he is bothered by the fact that he’ll die, he’s not going to make the others privy.

Heavy has been responsible for his three sisters and his mother since he was a child. Around them, he’d be a bit more open and accept their hand on his shoulder.. But not Spy. Around co-workers, Heavy’d rather think on what’s happening and be left to those thoughts. Besides that, he already provided a secluded cabin in Siberia for his family to keep them safe, so if he dies at work he’ll be at peace knowing they’re ok.

I very much get the vibe that Spy never puts his hand on the others like this, and that’s why Heavy hit him with that Side-eye Claire face.

Now Scout? He’s an interesting case because he’s about to humiliate Spy with the fake cards, but in terms of them dying in three days:

“Ve have three days to live!”

It’s subtle, but he looks like he might cry. Not in front of them, but still. And that tracks, because he and Spy are the most sensitive members of the team. You can look at Spy’s reaction behind Medic, and it becomes more obvious.

But Jeremy wasn’t raised by Spy.

He was raised by his mother [who’s doing her best] and seven older brothers who are terrible role models. I have no doubt that his brothers were involved in petty street crime and gangs when they were younger, even if some came to their senses as adults. And gangs are not well known for emotional stability.

Scout grew up around seven guys that wanted to be “hard” and ignored their emotional needs/daddy issues… As the youngest and the most sensitive one. I imagine that crying and showing that something is getting to you was met with mockery. And being labeled a weakling. So Scout did his best to stop showing that “weakness”.

Now he’s graduated from the criminal fights his brothers used to get into, and joined a group of mercenaries. Since he looked up to his brothers and grew up imbedded in their worldview, he seeks approval from the other Mercenaries in the same way. That’s why he chooses to mock Spy instead of asking for the last wishes. It makes him look unbothered and he can call Spy the weak one instead of being cruelly labeled himself.

But RED team doesn’t operate like Scout’s siblings or a gang. They’re all individuals that specialize in a certain area of mercenary work, who could leave for a different team or independent work if they weren’t happy on the team. [Provided they don’t release any information that the Administrator wants hidden, or rebel against her.]

So when Scout pranks Spy, they aren’t seeing his as a weakling; it’s not even crossing their minds. They’re smiling because Scout seems happy despite impending doom. And why shouldn’t they be glad that he’s having a good time of it? Beats being dejected and since he’s the youngest, they’re more worried about his well-being.

What’s interesting is that Heavy seems to sense that Spy is upset, because his smile noticeably fades when he looks up. But I still don’t think he realizes how much this prank and the teams’ indifference hurt Spy.

[mockerycrow]

Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)

cod masterlist

A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.

[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]

Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.

When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.

You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”

Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.

Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.

Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.

Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.

Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.

Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.

[mechncheese]

Damnit, you've inspired me. Here are my personal HCs for Science Continuity D&D night, please correct me bc I'm curious to see how they line up with mine.

Wheeljack: Likes playing characters that can a) schmoove, and b) deal the big damage. Most likely plays barbarian or fighter, though I think it would be immensely entertaining to see him play a rogue. Biggest detailer of plotlines, second only to Brainstorm. Always brings snacks to share, but tends to make a bit of a mess of the table.

Ratchet: Party healer, but in the "I'm a healer, but... *racks shotgun*" way. Plays a war cleric that hits way harder than it probably should. Consistently forgets about his spell slots unless it's time to heal someone. Trades off being the party face with Percy, but probably has the lowest Charisma score in the whole party.

Perceptor: One word - WIZARD. Amazing at managing his spell slots, always has something hidden useful up his sleeve. Just enough good dice luck to do some absolutely bonkers damage when he pulls out the big spells. Took a few levels in warlock purely for the Eldritch Blast + Spell Sniper combo, which Brainstorm refuses to let him live down.

Jetfire: Immediately strikes me as cleric-coded, but I can also see him playing a druid with low emphasis on wildshaping. Horrible dice luck through no fault of his own. (Brainstorm swapped his dice out with weighted ones, and nobody's caught on yet because Jetfire only uses that set as a player, not as a DM.) Usually the DM, but gets anxious when his players start causing problems on purpose.

Brainstorm: Sorcerer, 100%. Scary effective both in and out of combat. Has absolutely TPK'd the party at least once because he "forgot" to double-check the range on Fireball. Would've multiclassed three levels ago but Jetfire's too nervous of what he might do with that kind of power to allow it. Genuinely a great player to have at the table, but nobody's gonna give him the satisfaction of actually telling him that.

Prowl: World's most lawful neutral Paladin player. Absolute stickler for rules as written, gets upset when one of the other bots "Rule of Cool"s something, which is far too often for his liking. Put all of his non-combat skill points into Intimidation. Banned from DMing after trying to arrest the party in-campaign one time too many.

THESE ARE QUITE SPOT ON HONESTLY, I haven't played dnd in so so long so you'll have to forgive me for my lack of knowledge </3

I love Jetfire being the usual DM, BRAINSTORM WEIGHING HIS PLAYER DICE IS SO FUNNY TO ME he can't ever let this guy win </3 He'd catch on eventually.

Wheeljack would absolutely love to play physically powerful characters, he and Brainstorm probably put on funny character voices. Wheeljack's character would probably also be the first to die, he just keeps putting himself in dangerous situations for the fun of it.

Ratchet forgetting that he has his spellslots.. Someone has to remind him every time. He would also forget his character's alignment and default to his own feelings when making decisions.

"Ratchet would your lawful good character really steal from a marketplace?"

"..No but I would like to do it anyway"

PERCEPTOR IS A WIZARD FAN YES, HE LOVES MAGIC AND SPELLS ! I think he gets super into the story of a campaign (especially when Brainstorm is the DM). If Perceptor were a DM he would put the party into the equivalent of an escape room and it would take at least 2-3 sessions to solve. Perceptor probably has a custom dice set.

Brainstorm not being allowed to multi-class omg, the one time Jetfire let him, Brainstorm single-handedly hijacked the campaign and breezed through everything the DM threw at him (but you have to admit it was incredibly funny) I think he also makes a really good DM, crafts narratives so masterful it's probably moved one of them to near tears. He has much more fun as a player though so he doesn't DM too often.

Prowl.. NO FUN ALLOWED.. Things get a little scary with him when he's a player and he decides to just intimidate and sometimes even flat out torture npcs (and by extension the DM) for plot related information. I think he also slips out of character a lot when he's a player and he just defaults to himself.

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

[ghostlynightpanda]

HELLO AGAIN! was wondering if u could do an aguni x chubby reader fic where like the chubby reader doesn't look like she's strong/can fight but she actually can ✊ (again, if u don't feel comfortable doing a chubby reader u can always switch!) take ur time and have a good day/night!

A/n: I tried my best to write chubby reader, I hope you like it! Also, it's probably ooc Aguni, since I never wrote for him before.

Aguni - Tower of Terror

synopsis: In a deadly survival game, you and Aguni battle through a collapsing tower filled with ruthless enemies, pushing your limits to claim victory. As blood is shed and survival instincts take over, an unexpected bond begins to form in the midst of chaos.

Warnings/Content: Aguni x fem!reader, description of violence and blood, character death

The world was ending. Or it had already ended, but that equaled the same thing, right?

This place was an exact replica of Tokyo, maybe even the whole world, but you never ventured beyond the city's borders to confirm. It was like a ghost town. No people were to be seen, except during the games.

That was the biggest difference. Everyone here was just a visitor in this world, bound by visas that would eventually expire. And if they did expire?

Boom.

A laser through the head.

Dead.

To extend your visa, you had to play deadly games. If you survived, your visa was extended by the number on the card you played.

Every game was different. You had survived seven games so far—seven agonizing, terrifying, and brutal games. You weren't sure how you had made it through, but somehow, you did.

Well enough that the Beach had taken you in. The Beach was a supposed sanctuary, a safe haven for the best players. Not for everyone—only those skilled enough to contribute. It was a former beach resort turned into a survivalist compound, housing around seventy players.

Now, you stood before a towering structure, waiting for the next game to begin. You had arrived with two others from the Beach. Survivors were always split into different groups to gather cards more efficiently. But that didn’t mean you were allies. Betrayal was a possibility in every game, and so was murder.

A metallic voice announced the start.

Seven of Clubs. A team battle.

Players had to fight their way up the multi-floor tower to reach the top. Every three levels, the threats intensified. Any floor left uncleared within the time limit would collapse, dooming anyone still inside.

"Don't get in our way," one of the militants snarled. "Not that I think you have a chance anyway," he eyed you with an amused smirked, clearly expecting you to not be able to fight or run. Well, he was in for a surprised if he'd underestimate you.

The militants were the Beach's enforcers. The only ones allowed to carry weapons. They were meant to uphold order, but most of them abused their power, taking whatever they wanted without consequences.

You met his glare but remained silent. There was no point in provoking him. Especially since the other person here was their leader, Aguni. He probably wouldn't hesitate to back his own.

"Let's go," Aguni ordered.

Twelve players stepped through the first door.

The first three floors were manageable—basic combatants wielding bats and pipes, runners who tried to grab and hold players in place, and deadly traps like spike walls and drop floors. Three people died almost immediately, but none of them were from your group.

Floors four through six were worse. Sword-wielding enemies fought in synchronized formations, and snipers forced players to either take cover or keep moving. You had managed to grab a bat from one of the fallen enemies, which helped with defense. But the snipers were another issue entirely. Running and dodging under fire was exhausting. You were strong, but speed had never been your strong suit. Every step felt heavier, sweat dampening your clothes. Your breath came in sharp, labored gasps.

Only five of you remained when you reached the eleventh floor.

"How the hell did you make it this far?" the militant sneered, eyeing you with disdain as he wiped blood off his blade.

Before you could reply, the next wave began.

Silent, hooded figures emerged from the darkness, attacking with blinding speed before vanishing. They were almost impossible to hit and far stronger than their wiry forms suggested. The room was riddled with traps—electrified floors forcing players to jump between platforms while dodging attacks.

Then it happened. One of the hooded figures moved too quickly to block, slicing the militant's throat open before he could react. His gurgled screams filled the air before he collapsed. He clawed at his neck, eyes wide with disbelief, but within seconds, he was still. Dead.

You and Aguni fought fiercely, dodging and countering where you could. You saw him get thrown to the ground, an enemy raising a sword for a killing strike. Without thinking, you rushed in, swinging your bat hard into the attacker's leg. The figure dropped with a muffled grunt, and you followed up with a devastating blow to the head.

"You okay?" you panted.

Aguni stared at you for a moment, surprised. Then, reluctantly, he took your offered hand and let you pull him up.

"Thank you," he muttered, clearly hating the admission. But there was no time to dwell on it. More enemies swarmed you.

"Move!" Aguni grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the staircase. The door slammed shut behind you just as the floor collapsed beneath the corpses.

"The next floor should be the last," you gasped, your legs shaking from exhaustion.

The final floor was different. One vast, dimly lit room. And one opponent.

A towering figure stood in the center, clad in black. Two gleaming swords rested in his hands. His stance was calm but menacing.

The moment you stepped forward, he attacked.

He was impossibly fast. His blades were a blur as he struck, forcing you and Aguni back. Every block sent shockwaves up your arms. Every dodge left you gasping for breath. You weren't built for prolonged agility, but you had endurance—and you had sheer stubborn willpower.

Then, you slipped.

The enemy's blade sliced into your arm. A sharp, burning pain shot through you. You hissed, staggering back. Aguni immediately intercepted the next strike, his eyes flashing with something—anger? Worry?

"You alright?" he barked, never taking his eyes off the enemy.

"Just a scratch," you gritted out, ignoring the sting.

Aguni's frown deepened, but he didn't argue. Instead, he adjusted his grip and lunged again.

It took every ounce of effort, but you finally won. A well-timed distraction allowed Aguni to land the killing blow. The enemy crumpled. The game was over.

The card materialized in the center of the room. Neither of you moved, still catching your breath.

Then, Aguni turned to you, his gaze immediately landing on your wounded arm. Before you could dismiss it, he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against the torn fabric.

"You should've dodged that."

"I'd like to see you dodge everything when you're built like me," you shot back, offering a tired grin. His lips twitched—almost a smirk.

The journey back to the Beach was silent. But after a while, Aguni suddenly stopped the car, leading you inside a pharmacy, before gripping your wrist firmly.

"Sit."

"What?"

"Your arm."

"It's fine—"

"Sit." His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, you obeyed. He crouched in front of you, rummaging through his pack before carefully cleaning the wound. His hands were surprisingly gentle.

"You're weirdly nice right now," you mused.

Aguni rolled his eyes, pressing the bandage against your skin a little harder. You hissed.

"Alright, alright, I take it back."

"Tch." He shook his head, but his touch lingered a little longer than necessary.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

"You should take better care of yourself," he murmured.

You smiled. "Guess that means you’ll have to look out for me now."

He exhaled sharply—almost a laugh.

Then, he offered you a hand. You took it without hesitation.

As you walked back together, something had changed. A quiet understanding. A bond forged in survival, growing into something more.

Masterlist

[jo-speaks]

more ways than one

in which...

luke shows up to fem! reader's college soccer game.

Luke scanned his ticket, walking into the stadium. He had a really big test coming up, but the second Mark, Ethan, and Dylan invited him to watch the girl’s soccer team take on Michigan State, he dropped everything and headed towards the stadium.

“I heard that Y/N girl is really good.” Ethan said, leading the group of boys to their seats. 

Mark hummed, “Is that the girl who absolutely destroyed you at beer pong last week?” Mark’s comment caused the boys to laugh, and Ethan to grimace. 

“Yeah.”

“Well if her soccer skills are anything like her beer pong skills, I’d say that what you heard is right.” Luke stated, getting a few more jabs at Ethan.

Dylan chirped in, “She’s only a sophomore and she’s captain and she’s leading the whole NCAA in goals. I mean, why do you think her friends called her the ‘sophomore sniper’ when they introduced her at the party?” 

Mark laughed at Dylan’s slight rant, “Sounds like someone has a little crush.”

“I do not! I just did my research before coming here.” Dylan retorted. “If anything Luke’s the one with the crush. He told us he had a huge test coming up, but the second we mention girls soccer, he drops everything. A little suspicious, no?” 

A warm feeling rose to Luke’s face. Knowing Dylan was right, he just laughed it off and stayed quiet. 

Luke had approached you at said party because the second he laid eyes on you the boy was smitten. The two of you talked the whole night, but by the end of it you were both too drunk to remember to exchange numbers. Sure, he could’ve asked around the fraternity, but he wasn’t sure if you remembered your interaction at all. So he saw this game as a perfect opportunity to get your number. 

You could hear the laughter approaching close to the field. It was familiar, but you didn’t care enough to turn around as you were on your 47th juggle. 

“No way you get 70!” Your teammate, Jules, exclaimed. 

You laughed, “Not if you keep talking!”

She chuckled as she watched you closely. Soon enough, you had passed seventy, nearing ninety. You hit 86, wanting to go for more but your coach called out your name, telling you to go meet with the refs to decide which side you wanted. Settling the ball with a groan, Jules grabbed your hand and pulled you to the midfield with a slight tug. 

You greeted the refs and the opposing team’s captains with a slight smile. When you went to shake one of the girls’ hands, they both side-eyed each other, looking you and Jules up and down, then refusing your hand. 

Furrowing your brows, you let out a small scoff at their attitudes, but let it go as you picked ‘tails’ for the coin flip. 

It was heads, and they picked having the right side of the field, meaning you’d have the ball first. As you walked away, heading back to the rest of your team, Jules’s laughter filled your ears. 

“Oh my god! The attitude they had?” She laughed. 

You gave her a smile, “I know! On our field too.”

The closer you got to the sidelines, your eyes couldn’t help but take a glance at the group of boys who had sat down laughing. The second you could make out their features, a smile grew on your face. Luke was sitting there, along with three other boys which you quickly realized as his hockey teammates. You had been trying to get his number ever since the interaction you had at the party, but never found the right time to. In your head, you promised yourself you’d get it tonight. 

You decided to snap out of your thoughts and nudged Jules, “Look. Your boy toy is here.” 

Jules’s eyes widened as she followed your eyes, “What the hell are they doing here?” She walked over to the fence to say something you couldn’t quite hear, but figured she called Ethan over as he walked down a few steps to talk to her. 

Not caring enough to eavesdrop, you walked towards the rest of your team, letting them know you’d have ball first. They nodded, going back to their warm up. You took a glance up at the scoreboard which had the clock displayed on it. There was around five minutes left, and you wanted to do some long passing. 

“Jules!” You called out, bringing her attention back to you. 

She said something to Ethan before jogging back towards you. “Sorry. Long passes?” You nodded, “What was that about?

“They invited us to get some food after the game. You down?”

“Is Luke gonna be there?” You asked. 

Jules smirked at your question, “Yeah. Why?” 

You left her question unanswered, smiling as you walked away from her with a ball at your feet.

Five minutes went by quickly, as you heard the whistles blowing, telling you that the game was about to start. You jogged towards your team, listening to a quick pep talk before getting ready to hear the starting line up and National Anthem. 

You blanked out during the whole process, too focused on the game ahead of you. By the time you knew it, the whistle blew and you passed the ball to one of your teammates. 

Knowing exactly what play you were running, the second you saw the ball get to Jules, who was playing at the left wing, you made a diagonal run towards the goal. It was a high cross, but you managed to settle it at your feet before taking a shot from the 20 yard line. You watched as the ball soared towards the top corner of the net, making its way past the keeper’s gloves. 

You ran towards Jules, who was waiting for you at the corner flag. The two of you did the handshake you did every single time one of you assisted the other's goal, before hugging each other, then the rest of you teammates. 

As you ran back down the field to restart, you couldn’t help but take a glance up at the stands. They were decently packed, but your eyes quickly found the ones you were looking for.

You saw Luke sit back down from his standing position and to no one’s surprise he was looking right at you. You pointed at him with a smile and he quickly returned the action. 

While you focused back on the game, Luke was getting teased by his friends. 

“Ooo! Lukey’s got game!” Ethan exclaimed, shaking his friend by the shoulders. 

Luke laughed, “Shut up.”

~✩~

The game ended an hour or so later, the final score being 4-2. You had scored three of those four goals, earning you a post-game interview with some reporters who had shown up at the game. 

They had decided to interview you on the sidelines. This meant you were close enough to be near your team, but also close enough so Luke and the other guys could hear what you were saying. 

“Y/N, amazing performance out there tonight! What would you say is the biggest factor in your training that makes you such a valuable player out there?” The interviewer asked, bringing a mic close to your face. 

“The conditioning, for sure. I mean, we’re making a lot of long back and forth runs out there and we’re able to do so consistently because of that conditioning.” You answered, smiling slightly to take away the nerves you were feeling.

The interviewer nodded, “You pointed to someone after that first goal. Was it a family member, a friend, or…?” 

You let out a soft laugh, “Um, no. It was a good friend of mine that I'm meeting up with after this."

Luke heard your words, as did his friends. His eyes widened at your statement, specifically the part where you said you were hoping to meet up with him. 

“Oh shit!” Mark exclaimed, “Bro, she's talking about you!" He shook his head, “We don’t even know if she’s talking about me. She could’ve been pointing at one of you.” The boys laughed at his statement.

“I’m talking to her best friend, Mark’s taken, and Dylan’s not her type.” Ethan said.

“What’s wrong with me?” Dylan asked jokingly, yet seriously. 

Mark shrugged, “She said she was into tall guys. As in, guys over six feet.” 

Laughing at Mark’s words, the group of boys made their way down to the field to wait for Jules and hopefully, you.

Jules made her way over the boys, sliding her hand into Ethan’s. “What’s Luke all red for?”

“Y/N mentioned him in her interview just now.” Ethan told her casually.

Her eyes widened, “Seriously?”

Luke quickly shook his head, “We don’t know for sure it was about me.”

Before Jules could question it any more, you were walking over. You gave everyone a quick greeting which they happily returned. As you were all about to make your way towards the exit, you decided now was a better moment than ever. 

“Hey Luke? Can I talk to you for a second?” You asked, trying to ignore all the stupid grins on everyone else's faces. 

He smiled and turned around, “Yeah.”

The two of you stepped away from the group towards an area on the sidelines where people couldn’t hear you. 

“Great game tonight.” He said, trying to dissolve some of the awkwardness that was beginning to build. 

You smiled, “Thanks. I appreciate you coming.” “Yeah, anything for a good friend of mine.” He smirked, quoting your previous words. 

You looked away and laughed, now knowing he heard that part of your interview. “Funny. Anyway, I had a really good time talking with you last week and I was hoping to maybe get your number?” Luke’s face turned slightly red yet again as he smiled and nodded as you pulled out your phone so he could type in his information. “I was hoping you’d ask.” 

After he handed you your phone back, the two of you made your way back to your friends.

Jules pulled you back slightly, letting the boys walk ahead, “Looks like you scored in more ways than one, huh?”

“I definitely did.”

[hotchtits]

go on bby. talk about hotch. as much as you want ill read it all

*kisses you on the mouth sloppy style*

How I feel about this character

AAARGSHHSIDK AA AAAJDJEJ AHHHDJSJSJ

uh i mean he’s cool i guess.

no all jokes aside there are very few characters that are doing it like him.

he’s the leader of one of the most elite teams in the FBI. he’s a wet cat. he’s the epitome of traditional heterosexuality. he’s a boy kisser. he’s cold and distant. he loves his team more than anything in the world. he’s the next best profiler after gideon. he’s a massive idiot and a dork who collects coins. he’s got the skill level of a sniper/marksman. he does most of his team's paperwork so they can focus in the field. he’s no nonsense and straight laced. he seriously considered using web shooters at the FBI. he frequently catches an attitude with his boss, bigoted cops, and generally people in higher positions of power than him (and they just kind of take it). he has enough connections to get the italian government to revoke diplomatic immunity of a vatican priest. he's on a first name basis with the attorney general. he's kind of (at first) an absent father. he's a single mother of 6. he killed a man with his bare hands. he's so unbelievably gentle. he’s a white guy in a basic ass suit. he serves unprecedented levels of cunt.

what i keep coming back to is how much he cares. he cares about victims, he cares about unsubs (the ones that had justifiable reasons for being the way they are), more than anything he cares about his team.

the lengths he goes to to protect them or even just let them know he's there for them. he doesn't raise his voice, even when he's furious and when they lash out at him, he just absorbs it. aaaaaaugh. even roy, who hates his guts, he still cares about and still tries to make nice with for the sake of his son still having a grandparent in his life.

long story short i love aaron hotchner for all of his fucked up ways, big wet eyes, and self sacrificing demeanor.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

am i insane for saying the whole team? poly bau has a special place in my heart. i think he should get to have several boyfriends and several girlfriends. and his boyfriends are boyfriends and his girlfriends are girlfriends and they're all just happy.

hotch x happiness thats actually my favorite ship.

i mainly go for hotchgan, though, they make me want to rip my hair out. their push and pull, their similarities, hotch's head vs morgan's heart. kill me please.

i feel like him and rossi couldve also had a thing back in the preshow days. they give The Subway by chappell roan when he comes back in season three there is nothing casual about them.

hotchley before the divorce was so sweet :( i have such mixed feelings though because i can see how both of them would be frustrated with the other.

john blackwolf gets to be here as a treat because i think they would be absolutely destroy a buddy cop comedy thats actually a slowburn enemies to lovers. im aware this is just the plot of The Tribe.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

jessica brooks. im being so serious she stepped up in a way that very few others did. her offering to look after jack after hailey dies, staying with him when hotch gets called away, defending him against roy. also their banter is wonderful they r sooo siblings to me.

him and garcia are a very close second. obviously her and morgan are It but we gotta start putting some respect on him and garcia because

“i know you see the best in people, and i’d never want you to change that”

and the way she stayed with him when he collapsed in s9 aaarggh.

also hotchniss but as a wlw/bisexual friendship. they both agree that hotch has awful taste in men and that emily is a useless lesbian.

My unpopular opinion about this character

i mentioned this in someone else’s ask about unpopular HCs but i dont think he’s this #daddydom character in bed that people write him as. (disclaimer, headcanons are headcanons and im not bashing them, this is just what i think)

i can see him being dominant in bed (tho im a sub!hotch truther) but i dont think he’d go in for sadism or degrading or anything like that. given his childhood abuse, i cant imagine he’d enjoy hitting his partner or making them cry (even if it is consensual). in the show, he's very overtly gentle, especially with the people he loves.

i also dont think he’d enjoy a big age gap relationship with a subordinate either (i also see this being floated around). my man is a stickler for the rules and if theres a fraternization policy, i doubt he’d break it. im aware i sound like a massive hypocrite bc i ship him w the team but im mainly talking about x reader pairings here.

i was actually gonna put a different headcanon here but i saw a stepdad!hotch x reader fic and i,,, just,,, no. again write whatever you want but he Would Not Fucking Do That lmao.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

PISSED BEYOND BELIEF WE NEVER GOT AN “AARON” EPISODE

i guess 100 was kind of in the same vein but Reid got both “Revelations” and “Spencer” so i think we deserved an “Aaron”

for the love of god expand on his backstory. he was sent off to boarding school, he was a lawyer, a federal prosecutor, he was on SWAT, he's an accomplished sniper, he was with the BAU for something like 8 years before the show started i think. where is he finding the time for this?

[echo-lover]

Why are you watching this, it's for kids. Focus on life, find yourself a partner, have your own family. You are an adult. Grow up.

You don't understand it. This is not just a series...

This series gives me a chance to feel like a kid again. I find comfort, safety and care in the arms of characters who mean the world to me. I experience each of their moments of sadness, each of their smallest joys, as if they were my own. This is my home, my safe space. I love them with all my heart. Thank you Star-Wars for my beautiful family.

I love Wrecker because he always managed to put a smile back on my face, even when I was having the worst day ever. His cheerful personality makes it impossible not to like him. Sometimes he is just a child, trapped in a large man's body. Behind all this muscles and enormous strength that can easily hurt you, there is a soft heart made of gold. He can be gentle, soft, even quiet if he has to. He would do absolutely everything for his family. He is also way more intelligent than he might think. The way he takes care of Omega melts my heart every time. Kids love him and he loves kids.

I love Tech because he can quickly adapt to situations. His voice is so special... I could listen to him for hours and never get tired of his facts about everything he saw and heard on his missions. He showed me that being smart is not something I should be ashamed of. His voice is calming, gives me comfort... I love his little jokes and moments where he was just a little savage in conversations. Even though he processes moments and thoughts differently, he is still able to share his own feelings with Omega. She helped him open up and show the part of himself that he kept closed from the world, even from himself. He loved his family so much that he sacrificed himself for their safety, paying the biggest price. He is worth every tear I shed for him (and there were so many).

I love Echo because I see a part of myself in him. He has been with me from the very beginning of my journey with Clones, and is one of the most important characters for me. I relate to him for many personal reasons. Even though he has experienced so much evil in his life, he is still able to be gentle, caring and show love to those who were closest to him. I especially love his bond with Omega, they both understand each other through their traumas, and way more. Omega quickly became the most important to Echo, but he couldn't give up on fighting, even for her. He felt that he has to somehow compensate for all the lost years when he was a prisoner on SkakoMinor. His honor, loyalty and courage inspire me every day. And his tenderness and softness touch my soul deeply. I could talk about him for hours and never get bored. I wish I'd be able to give him the biggest and warmest hug, and tell him how important he is to me.

I love Crosshair because he's the type of character I could easily hate, but I don't. In fact Cross is very close to my heart, I feel sorry for him and I want to help him get back to his old self. He is so much more than what the Empire has done to him. This sniper who never misses, who doesn't have to use his muscles to hurt - words are enough for him - silent, yet sharp. Precise, accurate, always on point. Confident, knowing his skills. Painfully honest, but needing to prove his worth to others at the same time. I know there is this soft side of him, hidden, but it is there for sure. The side that loves his brothers and little sister more than his own life. He need some time to understand that he is worth all the love in the Galaxy and I hope that Omega will help him to realize, that his brothers never really left him. They would take him back, if he just wanted...

I love Hunter because he makes me feel safe. I can't put it into words, but he's a character that reminds me of home... a loved one that I lost some time ago. He is so much like my dad at some point and his bond with Omega is so special for me. I know he's not perfect, he makes mistakes just like everyone else, but he always wants to do the right thing. He is a leader, not the one that only gives orders, but he is more like the head of the family who protect them - a father. He always puts his family first and is willing to do anything for them. For any of them, including Crosshair. He often doesn't give direct orders, just suggestions. His squad is not just soldiers, but they are his brothers, his closest family. His priorities changed when Omega appeared in his life - a child in need of a family, who trusted him and gave him love that he had never received before. From a soldier, he became a father, who would give everything for his daughter's safety and joy. His relationship with Omega is the most important to me. I loved him from the first moment and I could talk about him for hours, just like about Echo. I will always defend him. No matter what.

I love Omega because she took the best parts of each of her brothers. She is fearless, brave, strong and ready to defend her family until the very end. She's just a sweet little girl who can't have a normal childhood. She's different, just like her brothers, and she's so proud of it. She is not afraid to show her individuality. But even though she is strong and brave, she is still just a child. She needs love, protection... family... and Bad Batch gave it to her... a home, a safe place, loving brothers... Words cannot describe how important she is to me. Now she has changed so much, she is no longer this little Omega from first season... I think she becomes so much like Hunter.

[weirdmorefics]

My Birdy Took Flight

A/N- I am aware I really need to write my asks and my Spencer Reid story but I am currently obsessed with Simon Riley okay!

Simon Riley x Sniper Reader

Readers pronouns- She/her

TW- Swearing, falling, injuries, and military inaccuracies but I mean it's COD and they have a zombie game so are going to attack them too? lol

Summary- Who knew the complete off-the-books mission would go off the rails and leave you with the worst rope burns of your life. The injuries however were not the scary part it was having to face Ghost and admit you fell out of the heli.

Word Count- 1991

This mission was completely off the books, asshole Shephard did not care at all that Kate had been taken hostage and would not send reinforcements for help. I've been working with Price and Kate since I was a recruit they are my family. There was no way I was leaving Kate to be killed. The plan was simple enough I stayed in the heli for overwatch while Price, Gaz, and Farah worked their way up the line. Things were going smoothly I've worked with Nik before he is one hell of a pilot. Things however took a turn for the worse an explosive hit the copter and I fucking fell out. I'm sure Nik and Captian thought I died for a moment but I was bloody hanging from the rope. I am lucky my sniper skills are still top-notch when I'm hanging upside down though I would prefer not to test it again. After that hiccup, we recovered Kate and she luckily had no physical injuries.

We returned to base that night and Price insisted I go to the med bay to get checked out. To quote his words, "You look like shit kid, get the hell to med bay before I drag you myself."

The medic rushed to treat me, but something told me that was Price's doing. They wanted to keep me here for observation due to my concussion from the explosion impact. I begged them not to I'd sleep way better in the barracks I hate the sanitary hospital smell, I even prefer the smell of gunpowder. The medic would not take no for an answer I wanted to fight them harder but they said they preferred my anger to Price's wrath. The medic left shortly after and would return sporadically to do random vital checks. At least I knew the concussion wasn't that bad as it didn't beckon me toward the darkness like other times. Though my raw skin kept me from finding any peace I honestly kind of miss the darkness. I spent the night tossing and turning the pain and clinical setting keeping sleep a far distance away from me.

The clock ticking was mocking me as I watched it hit four am. How are hospital settings supposed to help you heal when there is so much beeping and someone always coming into your room? Speaking of which I heard the door creak yet again didn't they just take my vitals ten minutes ago! I can't take this without thinking I launch the flat uncomfortable pillow at what I assumed would be the intern medic yet again only to lock eyes with Ghost looking as shocked as I did.

"That's one hell of a greeting darling," he says in his usual deep voice. My eyes are still wide with shock that I just hit my superior with a pillow but he takes this opportunity to speak again. "Heard you took flight today, Gaz was telling everyone."

I wince at the thought of everyone knowing I failed to hold on during the explosion and try to change the subject to avoid thinking about it, "Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with Soap?"

"Just got back. Johnny and Gaz are out celebrating," he responds.

"They are out celebrating at four am?" I question.

"You know Johnny no one can outdrink the Scott," he says like it's the most obvious thing the world.

"Well, why aren't you out there celebrating with them?"

"My birdy took flight and thought it only decent to check up on her," any other time I would have dwelled on the fact that he said 'my birdy' but he placed his hand on my welted ankle and I could not suppress the groan. His eyes quickly shift to concern and he rips the scratchy hospital blanket off me.

"Ghost!" I shout at him for having the audacity to rip the blanket off me. He has no right to barge in here and act like he's in charge, he may be the boss of me in the field but he is not my doctor and I do not care for showing off my nasty ass wounds to my team members.

He does not acknowledge my shout at him in the slightest instead his full attention is on my rope-burned ankles."What quack treated this," he growled.

"I'm fine," I try to yank my foot out of his grasp but he holds tighter.

"Yeah because the skin falling off your ankle looks spectacular," he says sarcastically.

"Wow you sure know how to treat a girl," I roll my eyes.

"Haven't heard any complaints," he says nonchalantly as if that innuendo wouldn't have Soap applauding.

"Seriously, it's fine. Go celebrate with the team," I assure.

"If you think I am letting you let your ankle get infected you are off your rocker. I am going to need names, sweetheart," he commands.

The nickname glides out of his mouth so easily it's as if he had said it a hundred times. I want to stay as calm and collected as him but I unfortunately stutter, "What names?" God, it's a good thing I'm a sniper and not a spy because I would be dead.

"Of the idiot docs who treated this," he speaks as if it's obvious.

I sigh, "It's not their fault... I didn't tell them. Price only knew about the concussion and I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Ah so you're the idiot," he growls.

"Can you not be mean to me I did just fall out of a heli."

"Shut up you lived," he rolls his eyes, gently places my foot down, and turns to leave.

"Please don't take your anger out on the medics," I beg.

"Oh trust me darling I will be taking my anger out on you," he growls yet again.

I shiver, "Where are you going then?"

"To get some medical supplies for your dumbass. No one way I'm letting a medic treat you when you will just lie to them."

"What makes you think I won't lie to you?" I tease well aware that I am in no place to be teasing.

He chuckles an evil kind still it's one of the best I've heard, "Me and you both know you aren't capable of it."

He exits the room and I am unsure if I want to slap him or rip that mask off and kiss him... I am definitely incapable of either. I may be able to beat Soap, Gaz, and even Price on the mat but no one can best Ghost. I, unfortunately, hear him shouting at medics for a damn first aid kit... so much for him taking out his anger on me.

He returns rather quickly but does not speak as he meticulously places the first aid supplies by my bedside.

He pours some alcohol on my rope burn and I hiss loudly, "shit a little warning would be nice."

"You would have just fought harder. Need to clean the debris out who fuckin knows how old that rope was."

"Aw is Ghosty worried about me," I pout.

"Thought I told you and Johnny to stop calling me that, you want me to make this hurt worse than it already does?"

I roll my eyes at him and in response, he presses the gauze harder than necessary. "You asshole!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I can see his wicked smile through his balaclava.

"Yeah sure," I huff. "You know..." I smile mischievously. "This would go a lot faster if you just kissed it better."

"Oh really," I could hear the grin in his voice. I was expecting him to make some snide comment in return instead he finishes wrapping my ankle and lifts his mask to rest on the bridge of his nose.

I am sure my eyes widen to the size of saucers. I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle. His grin widens it could only be compared to the Cheshire cat's smile. He gently lifts my ankle to his lips but does not stop there. He places delicate kisses all the way up to my thigh. I think I have officially stopped breathing. Then my heart decides to do the most embarrassing thing ever. It speeds up so atrociously fast that the monitors start beeping incredibly loud. That's it I have officially died there is no coming back my face is melting off from how flushed I am.

Ghost sits back and laughs and I mean properly laughs, I have never seen him like this. "This is a good look on you birdy all red and flustered, all for me too." He pulls his mask back down but I can still see the smile in his eyes.

"Shut up! I am a highly trained sought-after sniper, I don't get flustered!" I feel like that would have sounded better if I didn't stutter each word.

Ghost glances at my heart rate monitor, "Your heart says otherwise."

A medic comes in as the dumb machine won't stop beating, "Are you alright? You're looking quite flushed and your blood pressure is higher than it was when you first came in."

I swear I could see the smugness radiating off Ghost. God I want to strangle him.

"She's fine thanks to me," his eyes squint at me and I know he has a huge grin under that balaclava. He then turns to the medic, "Don't you know the 141 are notorious liars and the worst patients! Next time call me down here as soon as she is being treated."

The poor medic flinches at Ghost's rough voice and can barely whisper, "Yes, sir"

I mouth, 'I'm so sorry," to the medic he looks appreciative.

The medic flees as soon as my blood pressure normalizes. Ghost roughly throws his body onto the uncomfortable hospital chair and groans.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be going back to the barracks," I glance as he makes himself comfortable well as comfortable as one can be in a torn hospital chair.

"In a rush to get rid of me birdy?"

"Is that name going to become a thing," I roll my eyes.

"Only for me, if anyone else has the nerve to call you that I'll gut them," he replies.

"Even Johnny?"

"Especially Johnny," He grins.

I smile, "Seriously Ghost you should go sleep in your own bed that chair cannot be comfortable. I'd be in my bed if they would let me escape."

"I know you can't stand hospitals, I won't let you be sleepless and cranky alone."

"Fine, then at least share the bed with me, I forbid you from sleeping on that fifty-year-old chair."

"The fact that you think you can forbid me from doing anything sweetheart is laughable. Are you sure you want me to be over there might make your heart monitor scream again?" He makes his way over to the bed despite his words.

I roll my eyes, "I'll manage."

He lays on the small hospital bed and takes up ninety percent of it but I don't mind it because it doesn't smell like hand sanitizer and blood anymore it smells like him.

"Goodnight birdy," he kisses the top of my head and my heartrate monitor instantly starts beeping annoyingly again.

"Goddammit," I groan and he just laughs.

"You would make a terrible spy with all those emotions, you're lucky the red face works on you." he chuckles.

"You're just jealous of my amazing sniping abilities you must point out my flaws," I poke his chest.

"You ain't got no flaws birdy except the fact that you're stubborn as hell. Now go to sleep before I knock you out myself."

"Yes LT.," I fake salute him and he rolls his eyes.

Sleep comes so much faster in the med bay when you aren't alone, I wish falling asleep would always be this easy.