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fandom-puff · 8 months ago

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Fulfilling Duty

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Reader

Warnings: smut, pinv sex, fingering, reference to pregnancy and childbirth, brief reference to death during childbirth, reference to prostitution, implied arranged marriage, breeding kink, body image issues, implied innocence kink, older man/younger woman.

Italics indicate flashback

Gif creds to owner

After nine long months of pregnancy and two gruelling days of labour, Tywin Lannister finally had the son he craved. Little Darrick was perfect in every way. At almost four months, he guzzled his milk the way King Robert his guzzled his wine; he roared like a lion when something was amiss, fat angry tears pouring down his reddened little face until his mother or father consoled him; his hair thickened and lightened every day, though he showed no trace of Lannister emerald eyes (much you your elation; he already looked so much like Tywin so it was nice to see a shred of yourself in your son’s face).

The birth of your son only strengthened Tywin’s… affection towards you. It was not love- not yet at least- but his respect and fondness certainly grew. During the home stretch of your labour he had barged into the birthing room after overhearing an outspoken courtier’s gossip.

Your labour had dragged on and almost two whole days had passed since you first started having pains. While you had started in relatively high spirits, as progress began to falter almost to a halt and ‘one more push’ became an empty promise, your resolve almost completely shattered.

What had started as determined groans and howls of pain turned into whimpers, and then sobs as you begged the maester to just, please, get it out of you.

It seemed Tywin hadn’t unclenched his jaw for days, and while he wanted to remain just a room away in his office should he be called into the room, the Seven Kingdoms would not stop for any infant, not even the son of the Hand.

He had been walking back from an audience with disgruntled artisans from the city when he overheard some courtiers.

“… glad she’s shut up with the screaming, could hardly sleep a wink last night…”

“… should just cut her open, drag the babe out and have done with it… wouldn’t be the first Lannister woman to die in childbed…”

“… he’ll want another off her, just in case… especially if she gives him a girl…”

Tywin’s nostrils flared with rage, and while he would have so dearly loved to confront the gossiping courtiers, he marched to the tower of the hand, entering your chamber to the shock of your midwives and maester.

“Milord! Women’s work is still happening! The baby ain’t here yet,” scolded Jeyne. She was the eldest of the flock midwives attending you and the most experienced too, and had been crucial in supporting you.

Tywin held up his hand, and jeyne pursed her lips, knowing she could not argue. “Fine. But you’re not to interfere down here, milord. We’re nearly there,”

“You said that- ah- last night,” you said weakly, your voice shaky. Tywin sighed softly and knelt at your side, pushing your hair away from your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, one that he had done when you consummated your marriage. “‘M sorry, m-my lord,” you whispered, unable to stop the tears from slipping down your already damp cheeks.

“You needn’t be,” he said lowly, speaking so only you could hear. “You are doing well, just a little longer,”

Although the midwives and maester had repeated the same words over and over again over the last day, Tywin’s firm, authoritative voice reassured you, renewing your determination.

Tywin’s eyes flicked sideways to you. It was the first public event you had attended since giving birth, and he had kept a close eye on you all day. He’d even insisted on your retiring to bed for several hours in between the joust and the feast (“fine, I’ll rest. But only because I didn’t want to watch the archery anyway,”).

If you were tired, it did not show. You looked radiant, smiling serenely as you clapped for the dancing. You had changed into a gown of soft pink brocade, and while he always preferred to have you on his arm in matching Lannister red, he had to admit that the muted pink suited you beautifully, and provided a fresh and youthful contrast to his daughter’s sour, almost vulgar even by his standards, display of power.

“If you continue to glance at me so, you will miss the dancing, husband,” you said out of the corner of your mouth, bemused at the almost uncharacteristic attentiveness of the Old Lion.

“Then I shall miss the dancing,” he said lowly, though he kept his eyes dutifully on the entertainments. “Are you sure you will not sit?”

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him fully. “No,” you said with exasperation. “I am well rested, I promise you, My Lord,” your lips quirked into a smirk. “I may even join in with the dancing,” you added.

Tywins jaw clenched as he looked down at his mischievous young wife. Your pregnancy and subsequent birthing of a viable heir for him had consolidated your power in court- and your worth in the marriage. “Then you shall dance only with me,” he said. “I will not have you jostled so,”

And so the Lord Paramount of the West took his wife by the hand and led her to the dance floor, lest she be manhandled by less careful members of court.

Grinning, you held onto his hand, beginning the steps that you had known since childhood. “I so love it when you give in to my whims, Lord Lannister,” you murmured, laughing lightly at his grumble of agreement. He supposed he owed you a fair bit, now that you had given him his heir.

“You are as stubborn as a mule when you want to be, wife,” he muttered, pulling you closer to his body by the waist as a drunken jester weaved through the crowd, his motley cap jingling. But despite his complaints, Tywin permitted you two more dances, before you retreated from the crowd- the bawdy songs had began, and he would not have his wife passed about like the maidens in the songs.

Instead of sitting back down, Tywin took you before the king, bowing and excusing the two of you. “We must retire for the night, your Grace. Lady Lannister is very tired,” he said shortly, bowing once more as the king waved you away.

You followed him, your face indignant, but you did not dare question him until you were out of earshot of any high lords. “I most certainly am not tired, My Lord,” you said, running a little to keep up with his long strides. “I do not need to be bundled off to bed like a child- again,”

Tywin ignored your complaints, only speaking once you arrived at the entrance to the Tower- and even then he only spoke to the guard at the door. “No one is to enter this tower until tomorrow,” he said lowly, before all but frog-marching you through the door and up the winding stairs.

“My lord?” You asked cautiously when you arrived at his chambers. “Have I displeased you?”

Tywin turned around to face you. “No, wife,” he murmured, stepping closer to you so that you had to look up at him. “You have not displeased me… exasperated, perhaps, but not displeased,” you smiled slightly, opening your mouth to speak, but Tywin cupped your head with both of his hands, his thumbs stroking your jaw. “I intend to bed you tonight, My Lady,” he said, voice gravelly. Your face heated, but you nodded slowly. “Your body should be ready to take me once more,” he continued. “That is if you are agreeable?” He added, raising a brow. He had laid out from the beginning that while he expected you to do your duty and provide him with a son, he would not have you in his bed unwilling.

Nodding slowly, eyes wide as you stared up at him, you let out a shaky breath. "I… yes. Please," you murmured your consent, following him out of the solar to his adjoining bedchamber, where the hearth was crackling and the luxurious bedsheets were already turned down. Tywin poured out a cup of wine, offering you it, nodding when you smiled at the vintage before finishing the cup for you.

“Do you think it will hurt?” You murmured out of the blue, taking your jewellery off and setting it on his dresser.

“It may be a little uncomfortable, perhaps. Not as painful as childbirth, I’m sure, nor breaking your maidenhead,” your eyes widened at his words and he smirked. He so loved to see you flustered. “Such an innocent, wife,” he said, stepping closer to you and undoing the pins in your hair. He nodded his approval when you unwound the braids, shaking out your hair.

“It has been a while…” you considered, looking up at him in the mirror as he stepped behind you, beginning to unlace your gown.

“It has,” he said in agreement.

“Will you be gentle with me?” You whispered, eyes widening as his hand slipped up your front, over your breasts, lightly squeezing your throat before he tilted your head to the side.

“Absolutely not,” he growled into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing there as your gown fell stiffly to the floor.

You made to turn to begin undressing him, but he lightly batted your hands away, continuing to strip you of your stays and chemise until you were bare before him.

Eyes downcast, you made to wrap your arms around yourself; your pregnancy had left it’s mark on your body, your belly soft and marked with stretch marks, your breasts hanging heavier than they had when you first married. Tywin held your hands by your sides briefly, before his large hands claimed your hips, his thumbs massaging the softness of your belly. “I want another babe in your belly before year’s end,” he said lowly, making you shiver. “I want to watch you swell again with another of my heirs,”

“Yes, my lord,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he gripped your hips tighter, drawing your naked body to his, your skin hot against the cool metalwork of his belt and buttons. Slowly, he began to walk you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and he helped you up onto the mattress, his eyes blazing with lust. His green-gold eyes pierced you as he removed his chain of linked golden hands, his doublet, his boots and trousers too. Your eyes flicked down briefly as you admired your husband’s build; despite his age, Tywin was fit and strong, and your glance did not go unnoticed by him.

Tywin got up onto the bed, looking down at you as he came up between your legs, which fell apart willingly to allocate his breadth, to which he hummed with approval, his hands dragging up your thighs. You sighed softly as your body refamiliarised itself with the weight atop it, offering him a soft, shy smile. He returned it with a rare quirk of his lips, before his fingers teased closer to your exposed core, shushing you gently when you gasped. Whimpering, you arched your back as he dipped his fingers into your waiting wetness, body tense. “Are you in pain, wife?” He said lowly, his movements stilling.

“No…” you whispered, pushing your hips up to his hand as if to reassure him.

He nodded, looking down at you as his fingers worked you open for the first time in months, though he did not seem out of practice in the slightest. He watched intently as your face contorted, brow furrowing and mouth falling open, and your body twisted while you clenched around his fingers. When he felt the erotic spasming of your inner walls, he nodded and hummed with satisfaction, before withdrawing his fingers. You watched in awe as he used your release coating his fingers and dripping onto his palm to slick up his cock.

“You look as though you belong in a pleasure house in Lys, spread out like that,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. And he had a point; your breasts rose and fell with shaky, heavy breaths; your eyes were now dark with lust, brow furrowed and lips plump as you stared down at him, propped up on the pillows with your hair splayed out.

“Are you calling me a whore, My Lord?” You questioned, pushing yourself up on your elbows.

“No,” he said, guiding his cock to you. “But if you were a whore, you would be mine alone,”

He grunted, pushing into your tightness. With a cry, you tossed your head back, your nails clawing into the Lion of Lannister’s muscled back and arms as you adjusted to his invasion. You hissed out a curse between your teeth, gasping as he stilled, smirking down at you. “Such deplorable language,” he said, and you could only whimper in response, gritting your teeth and scratching at his back. Despite his promise to not be gentle with you, he held you tight to his body by your thigh, massaging the quivering limb with his hand as you adjusted to the suffocating tightness of your union. With a needy whine, you rolled your hips experimentally, grinding your clit against his pubis. The resulting tightening of your channel had him hissing in pleasure, and with a low groan he began to move with slow deep thrusts that had your head spinning.

One hand still gripping his bicep like a vice, you trailed your other hand over his shoulder anchoring yourself as you made feeble attempts to meet his movements. Grunting, Tywin grasped onto your hips, before moving his grip to your thighs, holding them apart as he began to fuck you harder, faster. You cried out at the shift in pace, arching your back as Lord Tywin took his pleasure (though he gave just as much as he took). He let out a groan of pleasure as his own thighs trembled and his hips stuttered, and he emptied his seed into you.

Moaning lowly, you fell back into the pillows, panting. You felt the bed dip then settle as he withdrew from you and stood, and your eyes slipped shut as you heard him rustling about the room, the door slamming shut. You frowned. He must have dressed quickly. With a sigh, you stood up, albeit shakily and slipped your chemise back on. His thick seed seeped down your thigh as you stood before the mirror, combing out the tangles in your hair with your fingers.

The door opened, and Tywin stepped into the room, but before he acknowledged you, he turned to what you assumed was his squire. “Have the servants bring up two plates from the feast, and a flagon of Arbor Gold,” he said to the lad, who responded with a quiet ‘yes, My Lord.’ “And see to it that Lady Lannister’s handmaidens know to come here on the morrow with her gown and jewels. She will be staying here tonight,”

He dismissed the squire with a nod and shut the door, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to return to my own chambers, my Lord,” you murmured, finally able to smooth your hair down over your shoulders.

“Indeed not,” he said simply. “I was merely arranging some supper and wine,”

You crossed your arms. “And for my handmaidens to come here on the morrow?” You teased.

Tywin only smirked, prowling over to you. “Indeed,” he said. “It would seem, wife, that we must return to bed…” you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him curiously. “An heir will not find its way into your belly if my seed is dripping down your thighs, now, will it?”

#tywin lannister fic #tywin lannister smut #Tywin Lannister x reader #Tywin Lannister x you #Tywin Lannister imagine #tywin lannister #tywin lannister fanfic #game of thrones #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut

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jasmines-library · 7 months ago

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May I ask for platonic batboys x paramedic reader? The reader works the night shift, so they meet each other pretty often when dealing with criminals as she and her colleagues are doing damage control. They share gossip and find the best all night diners. Sometimes, if they're in trouble and too far from home, they can usually find her in her house.

In short can I just have some fluff of batfam with a civilian friend?

This is my first time requesting anything, plase forgive me if it's a little vague as English isn't really my first language.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: hi hi hi. Before I start anon I just want to say thank you so much for waiting patiently. You requested this like two months ago and i've been so busy that i've only just got around to writing it. Thanks so much for being awesome. This idea is so cute. I also hope that HCs are okay, I really wanted to write this for you quickly (although im not really sure i can call it quick after how long it took me to get round to it) p.s your English is perfect!

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The first time you met the boys, it was almost like fate. You instantly clicked.

Like usual you were working the night shift; a shift usually expected to be long and gruelling. But never in city like Gotham.

You had received the call from GCPD, but that wasn't uncommon.

They were dealing with some criminals in the city centre and some bystanders had got caught in the crossfire and needed medical attention.

Again, not unusual. You were a paramedic after all.

What was unusual was the gaggle of masked vigilantes milling around the scene. Not one, but four.

Usually they would have fled by now; moved on to solving crime in another part of the city, but the night was slow and so they were there to help.

Though, I would use the term 'help' loosely. They spent more time getting in the way as they tried to help.

Especially the small one, who you later learned was Damian.

You saw them more often after that.

Weather it was fate working her strange magic or weather it was the fact that you found yourself actively seeking out a swish of their capes.

They were a good laugh; witty and unafraid to tell you what they think.

If nights were slow, you would wander round the streets together, trying out all of the different diners that claimed to have the best pie in the city, but were really just as shit as the next ones.

As your relationships between the vigilantes grew and you came to know them more personally, they would often come to you for help.

Gunshot wound to the shoulder? Jason would be tapping on your window as he pleaded that you would let him in before dripping blood all over your carpet.

Feeling nauseous? Dick would be at your door with a list of his symptoms.

They grew to trust you to help them, and you were glad to do so.

(Although, you would be less than pleased when they show up on your doorstep at two in the morning on your day off)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

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roosterr · 1 year ago

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white flag ✹ proglogue

note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers

ao3

【next】

it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.

clearly, you'd been too optimistic.

which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order, whether you were in the field or not.

the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.

the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.

before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.

and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.

but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.

you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.

"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."

"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."

"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."

"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"

"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."

"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."

their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?

as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.

“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”

"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.

"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.

price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.

soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."

you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.

you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.

"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."

you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.

"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.

before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.

✹✹✹

you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.

either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.

"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.

"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.

"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.

"right."

neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.

after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.

"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.

he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.

"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.

"alright, he can be difficult–"

"really?"

"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"

"is he gonna give me a chance?"

"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"

"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.

"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"

"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.

it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.

you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.

there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.

living room's yours. lock the door. – s

it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.

with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes #praying that hes not ooc

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my-darling-boy · 6 months ago

Text

(TW injury description)

I am SO glad you asked I lose my mind over this man. Sidney Beldam! He’s most known for his miraculous recovery from a major facial injury sustained while he served as a young sergeant in the First World War. If you’ve read the Facemaker by Lindsay Fitzharris you might recognise him! Sources differ slightly about his story, so I’ve pieced it together as best I could. The photos below were from about February 1919!

Born in 1897, Sidney was about 17 living with his mother in Cambridge, England when the Great War commenced. While he didn’t enlist initially, he was soon conscripted when it came about in 1916 though thankfully he was in a non-combatant role driving lorries transporting soldiers to boats headed for France. It’s where he learned he enjoyed driving! However in April 1917, Sidney was transferred to the Machine Gun Corps and eventually rose to the rank of sergeant where only 7 months later, his life would change forever.

During the battle of Passchendaele, one of the muddiest most gruelling segments of the war, Sidney was on the frontlines when a shell burst, sending a shrapnel fragment tearing diagonally through his nose and the right side of his face. The young soldier collapsed face first into the mud which ended up saving his life as falling backwards would have caused him to choke on his own blood. For three days Sidney laid in a mangled heap floating in and out of consciousness while vermin scurried about his body and the other dead and wounded around him. No one would ever know the details of those agonising three days, but the trauma he experienced there left him with a lifelong phobia of rats and cockroaches. After the initial wounded had been cleared out, a wandering band of stretcher bearers discovered Sidney alive after one man touched him with his boot fully expecting him to be dead. Miraculously, he was still clinging to life.

The 19 year old sergeant was rushed down the line and then transferred to two different military hospitals where his wounds were hastily stitched in an effort to save his life before infection could spread. Unfortunately, closing the gap where he was missing flesh in his cheek caused his upper lip to be pulled into a sneer and a sunken depression formed where most of his nose was missing around the bridge. Still, he was lucky to be alive, which he later used to remark. Well he was luckier still as he would be transferred to Sidcup military hospital in Kent where he would become a patient under Sir Harold Gillies, the man often considered the pioneer of modern plastic surgery. When he arrived at hospital in 1918, his wounds were healed but his face still bore the heavy trauma of his experience. If you want to see his photographs upon arrival, I won’t post them here but if you search his name, the photos are everywhere. IMO they’re not graphic but I know it can upset some people.

Gillies went to work trying to restore Sidney’s face. This required him to reopen the wound in his cheek where a skin flap was grafted to allow his upper lip to return to normal. He also folded down a skin flap from his forehead in order to create a new nose. Behind his facade, a series of tubes and canals had to be inserted for proper sinus drainage and other unnamed functions. While his initial handful of surgeries did most of the work to reconstruct his face, Sidney underwent over 40 surgeries between 1918 and the 1930s, some reconstructive and some to evacuate the tubes behind the flesh, meaning the common cold was a routinely painful affliction for him. Gillies understood operations were traumatic for the men at Sidcup, especially since most required more than one, and so made a point about creating a lighthearted ward environment, one Sidney says was quite jolly with the staff doing everything they could to make them feel comfortable and dignified as possible. And while I thought the topmost photos were the most updated case study photos for his recovery, I stumbled upon another set from 1920 in the Faces of War by Andrew Bamji I have not seen posted anywhere!

And lads listen. In such a sweet little twist, while Sidney was still recovering from the bulk of his major surgeries, a local pianist by the name of Winifred volunteered to play for the resting servicemen, all of whom had some form of disfigurment or amputation. Carrying in her sheet music, she and Sidney laid eyes on each other for the first time and she later remarked how his smile instantly lit up the whole room! For them, it was love at first sight. The two were soon married, and although it was in the 1920s, I don’t have an exact year for this. This most likely came after Sidney was finally discharged from service in 1921. There is a photo of their wedding and y’all look how SWEET!!

Between his initial surgeries and army discharge, Gillies asked if Sidney would be his personal chauffeur, an offer he took up quickly as he loved driving from his time with lorries during the war. One somewhat humorous account tells of Gillies—who was a bit scattered at times—asking Sidney to renew his driver’s license as the surgeon left it until the last day to take care of; Sidney in a rush waited in a long line at the county hall before jumping the queue and begging the administrator to expedite his employer’s license as it was needed to drive him to the hospital the next day. The man refused, even for a surgeon to get him to his patients. Sidney went to another staff member who was friends with Gillies and begged him the same. The man cheerily agreed but was still in need of a signature from the stubborn administrator who again refused... at least until he found out Harold Gillies nearly won a golfing championship, at which point he took Sidney to his personal office to expedite the license as he was happy to do business for a skilled golfer (apparently saving people’s lives doesn’t matter as much??). A no doubt perplexed Sidney was finally able to get back to the hospital on time!

After his army discharge and most likely about the time of his marriage, Sidney moved back to Cambridge where he worked for the council as a rent collector. He was so well liked, apparently even from the people he collected from, that he soon worked his way to Housing Manager for Cambridge. About this time, he had a daughter, Pam. Every account I read of him, people gush about how sweet he was. His wife recalls how Sidney was always adored by all his family and friends. His granddaughter Marilyn McInnes in an interview said, “He was the most warm and optimistic and loving man. I adored my grandfather, I was constantly on his lap as a small child. I never noticed anything funny about his face, I guess I thought all grandads looked like mine.”

Sadly, Sidney Beldam passed away from cancer at about 80 years old in 1978. But considering the man was given 6 months to live and ended up living for 60 years more surrounded by a large and loving family, I’d say he certainly had a full life. There is a picture of him and his wife in the 60s and they are absolutely charming!!

But anyway that’s me done rambling I’ve a massive crush on him. His story makes me genuinely happy to tell and I’m so glad you asked!

#I love love love this man sm he’s just described as this ray of sunshine!!#I want to put him in my pocket #And the story of him and his wife like actually kill me that is so cute #I’m so happy he was able to live a full life #Also yeah lads he is so fine ngl when I saw him in that book I was like WOW #he has such gorgeous eyes and I love his nose #and his smile #wwi #world war 1 #sidney beldam #history #wwi medicine #injury tw #medical tw #long post

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chestnutninny · 20 days ago

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Get Your Girl

Hi! What about a request for Aaron Hotchner x reader where he’s been kind of seeing/dating you but is scared of making it official bc of what happened to Haley but he loves you so much so is in a battle with himself about what to do. And the rest of the team can tell how happy he is with you and they try to convince him to go for it. Angst ending with fluff.

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For the last couple of months, Aaron's usual scowl had disappeared entirely from his face and had been replaced by a smile, one that the team only saw on very rare occasions. The confusion that buzzed through the team hummed around the office, the members whispering about the sudden perk in his attitude. The case that the team had been working on has finally come to an end after a gruelling set of murders, and Aaron was fast to pack up his belongings and speed out of the building, bundling into his car.

He made his way to his apartment ready to get changed into his date attire, expecting your arrival at his front door within the next half an hour. Panic started to set in as it dawned on his that he was running really behind, not even having enough time to fasten the tie around his neck, before the doorbell wrung out through his apartment. He strode towards his front door and looked through the peephole before opening the door.

You stood on the opposite side, wringing your hands in front of you, before looking at to meet his eyes. Your figure was hugged by a short black dress that sat mid thigh, gaining Aaron's attention, which was very wanted. His eyes raked shamelessly up and down your body, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, before returning his gaze back to your own.

"Hey. You look so gorgeous, Y/N." He smiled, his head lowering slightly as he smiled shyly, almost bashfully.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You smirked, his shyness giving you a slight surge of confidence.

He leaned against the doorframe for a few minutes longer, his eyes glancing over you over and over again, however you were starting to grow slightly impatient.

"Are you going to invite me in, or are we standing here all night?" You joked.

"Sorry...come in." He pushed the door further open, allowing you access to his home.

You had been on a few dates with Hotch, however this was the first time you had been invited to his house, with the promise of a home-cooked meal. He led you to the front room, where you took your seat on his sofa. He came over to where you were residing and set down two glasses on the coffee table, before pouring an ample amount in each glass.

You both indulged into some casual conversation whilst you waited for your food to finish. Eventually, he brought out two steaming plates stacked with huge piles of spaghetti, which you assumed Rossi gave him the recipe for. Your conversation simmered down whilst you ate your food, your slight moan echoing through the room as the taste of the food settled upon your taste buds.

"So...how's work been?" You asked, resuming your talk.

"It's been okay, pretty stressful. But what's new there?" He chuckled to himself. "Although, I've been invited to a Unit partner with the rest of the team.

"Ooh, that's exciting. Are you going to go?"

"Maybe, I'm not too sure just yet." He admitted.

"Maybe I could come with you. It'd be the perfect time to meet the team?" The idea definitely made you nervous, however you'd do pretty much anything for Aaron, and to be able to meet the people he calls family would mean the world to you.

"I don't think that'd be the best idea, Y/N." He stated bluntly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Why not?" You were met with silence. "You haven't even told them about us, have you?"

He sat with his head down, refusing to make eye contact with you. You scoffed before reaching for you bag and jacket, making an abrupt exit from his apartment. Aaron tried to call after you, yet the door slammed over his voice.

You stormed down to the parking lot of his apartment block and slammed your car door behind you. Hot tears streamed down your face as you planted your forehead against the cool leather of your steering wheel. After a few minutes, you gathered yourself and made your way back to your own apartment, the anger boiling through your veins not subsiding in the slightest.

Back at his apartment, Aaron, couldn't help but kick himself. Why didn't he say anything? He knew that he should have opened his mouth and offered for you to come with him to meet his 'family', however after what happened to Haley, he was too afraid to expose you to the horrors of his job, his everyday places.

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Monday morning finally moped around and Aaron found himself mindlessly slipping into his suit, throwing all of his belongings into his car before driving of the work. Hid colleagues immediately sensed his foul mood, yet they all new better than to get under his skin more by asking his questions about it. That was until the team gathered around the table after hearing about a new case and Penelope Garcia strutted through the room, her floral perfume lingering behind her.

"Sir, your frown is certainly more visible than usual," she joked, looking around the room at the rest of the team.

Morgan shook his head at her, signalling for her to be quiet. Hotch sighed and buried his head in hands before abruptly standing up and excusing himself to his office. Garcia watched as he exited the room and looked back to her team before offering an apology to them all.

"I think you should be apologising to Hotch, babygirl." Derek remarked, his signature smirk taking over his features once again.

"I'll go and talk to him." JJ stated, before vacating her own seat at the round table.

Once she had reached his office, three knocks rung out from the wooden door, echoing throughout his spacious office. He waited a few moments before calling that the door was open. He straightened his back and cleared his throat as he watched JJ make her way into the room, settling down on the corner of his desk.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" She questioned after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Hotch lifted his head slightly, unspilled tears forming in the corners of his eyes. JJ forwned in confusion, but waited for him to talk. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before speaking.

"I've been seeing this woman for a while now, but I'm too scared to make things official after Haley's death." He admitted, shaking his head at how pathetic he sounded.

"So that's why you've been so smiley lately?" She questioned, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled at her antics before nodding his head nervously, which was very out of character for him.

"Honestly, I saw just go for it. You know the team will always have your back and we just want you to be happy. I'd love to meet her, she must be great to make you this happy, Hotch."

Aaron considered her words before agreeing with her.

"You're right. I deserve to be happy and she's the one I can see myself being happy with."

"Go and get your girl."

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You swung your apartment door opened, the delicate petals of your favourite flowers clouding your vision. You gasped in surprise when Hotch's head poked up from behind them, a small yet nervous smile appearing on his face.

"Hey." He greeted, his teeth carefully chewing the inside of his cheek as he waited for your response.

"Hi." You responded, a bit confused.

You hadn't heard off Aaron for a few days since your incident, however you couldn't deny that it felt so good to see him again, to see him stood at your door.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. If you'd give me a second chance, I'd love for you to come and meet my team?" He proposed, his eyes full of hope.

"Of course. But you have to tell me what's going on."

You pushed the door open more for him to enter, and you both spoke about everything whilst you got ready to go and meet his team

The rest of the night was filled with laughs, jokes and hand holding, with it fair share of drinks and delicate kisses placed upon your cheek and head.

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Taglist: @borinxnovakxprentiss @chloeelou02x @moonlightjxuregui @zolofts (join my taglist here)

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner

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cosyvelvetorchid · 3 months ago

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Sending you "Glasses" for the writing prompt with a side of fluffy!

Thank you for the cute prompt 🩶

****

The thing is, Tommy wasn’t that much older than Buck—it was only 7 years numerically. It’s just that he seemed older. His sense of self, his confidence and how level headed he was gave him the air of somebody who was older.

Buck liked to tease him about it sometimes. He’d refer to him and “old man”, or when he’d fall asleep watching a movie, justifiably—you try staying awake after a gruelling 48 shift, thank you very much!— Buck would call him grandpa.

It was playful teasing and Tommy didn’t mind.

But really, his older mentality was a comfort to Buck; made him feel stable when he was getting all up in his own head. Again.

Buck had tried, really REALLY tried, over the last 5 months to not get ahead of himself with Tommy. It had been an incredible five months, for both of them, but Buck was determined to not rush into things like he had with previous relationships.

But he couldn’t deny his feelings for Tommy were deep. He was half convinced that if you cut him open, “properly of Tommy Kinard” would be stamped on each and every organ he possessed.

He hadn’t said those precious three words yet—neither of them had—but each day it was getting harder and harder to resist blurting them out. If he was completely honest with himself he’d felt it about a month in, but was terrified he’d be seen as his usual impulsive self and Tommy would run a mile.

It was getting truly difficult to not picture a future with Tommy when he did things that drove Bucks heart crazy. Little things, mostly, like changing his laundry detergent because Buck didn’t like the smell of the one he used to use. Or taking the time to learn how to make Bobbys famous lasagne because he knew Buck loved it. Even when he was texting Buck to chastise him for not eating breakfast before his shift because “..your health is important and you can’t save lives if you’re not taking care of your own.”

What tipped Buck across the line from ‘I love this man’ to ‘oh my god I want to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies’, however, was something so small; so unimportant and unintentional on Tommys part that he could have missed it.

He’d had a long shift—call after call after call— and was three hours later to Tommy’s house than he had planned to be there. He let himself in with the key that Tommy had given him two months in and walked into the living room after dumping his bag by the door.

“Hey, Tommy, I’m-“

He stopped at the sight in front of him. His mouth curved into a smile as his entire stomach and chest filled with butterflies, and his heart grew three sizes.

Tommy, fast asleep, head fallen back against the back of the sofa, book in his lap and reading glasses resting on the edge of his nose. Suddenly, Buck had a glimpse of their future.

He looked like a dad.

He could picture Tommy “resting his eyes” exhausted from lack of sleep and their newborn daughter resting softly on his chest. Tears welled in his eyes at the prospect of that kind of future with him.

He walked over and gently sat down, running his hand down Tommy face softly and cupping his cheek, pressing a delicate kiss onto his temple. Tommy stirred with a hum and his eyes fluttered open to be met with Bucks.

He slid his arms around Bucks waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

Buck didn’t even had to think about it. The words were in his throat and on his tongue and ready to be let out into the world.

“I love you.” He whispered into Tommys hair.

Tommy squeezed Buck a little harder. “I love you, too

#tommy kinard #911 abc #bucktommy #911 #911onabc #buck x tommy #911 buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #bucktommy prompts #bucktommy prompt #cvo prompts #tevan fic #tevan prompt #911 prompt

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mysaintkitten · 10 months ago

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smut with cillian murphy at the golden globes? am i crazy?

Claim Your Prize | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

!!disclaimer!! this fic does Not represent Cillian as a person, we love and support Yvonne here. this is simply for fun/fantasy! :3

WARNINGS: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public-ish sex, mirrors are involved, kind of sweet sex i think lol, creampie (of course)

“And the award goes to …”

A moment of silence and anticipation fills the room as the announcers carefully pry open the envelop containing the winners name. Beneath the table, you anxiously grab Cillian’s hand. He squeezes it gently in response.

“Cillian Murphy!”

As soon as his name escapes their lips, a wave of relief and appreciation crash over you. Finally, the most hardworking man you know is getting the admiration he deserves.

The people around you clap and cheer, and before Cillian heads up to accept his award you give him a quick hug and a kiss. A brief glimpse into the intimacy the two of you regularly share, yet are never public about it.

It then all becomes a beautiful, hectic blur. As cillian stands in front of everyone accepting his award, he seems to find all the right words to say, and all the right ways to say it. All you can do is stand back and watch him, giving him your utmost respect as he gives his thanks.

When his speech is over and the announcers move on to the next category, you get up from your table to meet Cillian half way. Since the rooms so tightly packed, the best route along the outer edges. As soon as he makes you out in the crowd he smiles happily at you, his eyes beaming with energy and gratitude.

Once you’re face to face, he hugs you again, tighter, finally getting a chance to hold you like he’d initially wanted to when they first announce his win.

Whilst getting ready earlier, you couldn’t help but brainstorm different ways to “reward” Cillian if he won. He isn’t very materialistic, and you knew that the only thing he truly wanted from you was your support, to stand by him whether he won or lost.

But you wanted more, you had to give him something you knew he needed after all these gruelling months of seemingly endless work.

So, after slipping into your dress for the event, you slipped off your panties directly after. Wanting Cillian to have as easy access as possible if he wins.

And now you’re here, wearing no panties underneath your dress, while hugging your winner of a husband.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper softly in his ear, turning your head a bit more to give him a kiss on the cheek, “so proud.”

He hums back, briefly nuzzling into your kisses before copying your gestures and kissing you on the cheek, leaving small quick pecks until he ended up back at your lips where he kissed you properly.

The kiss is passionate, warm, not yet sexual but you knew how easily it could fall into that territory.

“I have a gift for you,” you purr in his ear before dragging your fingers along his back, planting a small kiss on his neck and then pulling away.

“What is it?” Cillian asks, earnestly curious, he looks down for a moment but quickly realizes you aren’t carrying anything with you. With a mischievous grin, you grab his hand and lead him away to a private area. You’re able to sneak away quite easily, everyone else is much too fixated on the next winner anyway.

The hallways are vacant for the most part, a few scattered workers here and there, but all you’re thinking about is getting Cillian alone.

Whilst roaming the halls, you spot the bathroom. A unisex, single bathroom. Although it’s not ideal, it’s the best you’ll find in a place like this. Once Cillian sees where you’re heading, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what your “gift” may entail.

After taking one more good look around, you decide the coast is clear enough and you both sneak into the bathroom before promptly locking the door.

It’s nothing special. A toilet, a sink, a mirror, what you’d normally expect to find in a bathroom. Luckily for you, the room had clearly just been cleaned. The counters and mirrors were spotless, and it smelt faintly of lemon and fresh laundry.

You swiftly turn around to face Cillian, placing your hands on the counter behind you, that sneaky little grin still spread across your lips.

With an equally naughty smile, Cillian presses his body against yours, him too placing his hands on the counter.

“So, what kind of gift does my lovely wife have in mind?” Cillian teases, kissing you gently on the lips, his voice lowers before he speaks again. “One that we need to be all alone for …”

The warmth between your legs intensifies, and the pressure of his body alone is enough to make your brain fuzzy. You drape your arms around his neck, briefly running your fingers through his hair.

“Just wanted to give you a little something that I know you’ve been missing,” you coo innocently, “something that you deserve after all this long …”

You pause for effect,

“And hard …” your voice becomes breathier as bring an arm down off his neck and snake it between your bodies, your grasp landing between his legs to palm him through his trousers, “work.”

Cillian growls, deeply inhaling your sweet and comforting smell, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Quickly, Cillian turns you around, your hips now against the edge of the counter top. And now, you’re met with your own reflection. Both you and Cill with flushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, your makeup smeared around the edges of your lips while Cillian’s have a faint red-ish hue from your lipstick.

“I’ve missed this, too,” you sigh as your arousal stirs within you, at this point you don’t doubt that your wetness has made its way to your inner thighs. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“S’all thanks to you, really …” Cillian groans against your neck, kissing the skin hungrily. “You’re the only thing that’s kept me fuckin’ sane throughout all of this.”

“Cill …” you giggle at his sweet words, your fingers carding through his hair while he stands behind you, his grip on your hips tightens and you feel him roll his hips against your ass. His warm bulge just begging to be freed.

“Honest,” he defends, “while I was on set, or late at night when I couldn’t sleep, the only thing that brought me peace was you.”

Despite how sweet Cillian’s being, you didn’t take him in here to some exchange kind words or swap some spit.

“You’ve got me here now,” you make eye contact in the mirror, his pupils blown and swimming with lust, ��claim your prize.”

The palms of his run along your stomach, his head dipping down to place a kiss onto your neck before bringing his eyes back up to your reflection. Those same palms find your hips, gently gripping the soft skin before sliding his hands down further around your thighs.

He begins to grab at the material hanging down your legs, attempting to hike up your dress as best he can. You bite your lip and give him some assistance in pulling up the fabric, eager for him to see the little surprise you have for him.

Once your dress is lifted up enough, Cillian groans at the beauty in front of him. Your ass on clear display, no panties or tights obstructing his view.

“Were you like this the entire time?”

He watches you nod, a proud smile spread across your lips with your bottom lip still tucked between your teeth. With a smirk he shakes his head, quickly unzipping and unbuttoning his trousers. He pulls them down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, and you feel his hot member pressing against your ass.

Cillian dips a hand down between your legs from behind, trailing his middle finger along the slick seam of your pussy. He dips his finger in, moaning lowly at the warmth and wetness of your core.

“Jesus, baby. Missed my cock that badly, huh?”

You nod while watching him through the mirror, completely transfixed by the sensation of his body against yours along with Cillian’s effortless beauty and sex appeal. You’ve never had a partner that knew which buttons to press as well as Cillian, he could read you like a book.

A small sharp inhale is sucked from your lips when you feel the tip of his length teasing your pussy, smearing your arousal around before gently prodding at your opening.

“Look at yourself when I put it in.” Cillian purrs in your ear, sneaking a large hand up to your neck, gripping your neck and jaw and moving your head forward, forcing you to face your own pleasure.

Already you feel some small amounts of embarrassment, your cheeks are all flushed and your hairs all messy- how could you look so ruined already?

Before you can think too much, Cillian’s pushing his cock inside, slowly. You watch yourself as your mouth starts to hang open, and your brows pinch together. You feel his cock nearly splitting you open, giving you that oh so familiar sweet stretch that you’d been craving after all this time.

“You’ve gotten so fuckin’ tight …” Cillian groans from behind, his warm breath against your neck causing your body to shiver. “You missed getting filled up like this, sweetheart?”

You nod, panting heavily while barely being able to keep your eyes open. His hips roll back out before harshly snapping back in, forcing a pathetic whimper to slip from your lips.

“Yes, yes!” You moan, gripping the edge of the counter as Cillian’s grip on your jaw tightens. Your eyes crack back open and you see your own face again, the pure pleasure he’s giving you leaves you almost unrecognizable in your own eyes. “Missed y-you and your cock-k so much … love you so much …”

It wasn’t very common of either of you to say ‘I love you’ during sex. You’d say it regularly before and after the act, but during? Rarely happened. But since you’ve missed Cillian so much, and he’s been so busy, and now that all his hard work has paid off- it only felt right.

Well, that and the fact that you were already getting cock drunk off of him, your brain barely processing whatever words are coming from your mouth.

“Love you too, darling.” He breathes, kissing your neck while thrusting into you roughly, your hips pushing so harshly against the counter you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care. If anything, you want it to bruise. You want the physical reminder that your husband gave you a good, hard fucking after so many months of separation.

“Love your face, and how cute you look when you’ve got a cock inside you,” Cillian teases, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your neck again. “Love this pussy …”

“Fuck-“ you gasp, already feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to form. You really want to make this last, but it’s all been building up within you for far too long now.

“Love, love, love you, my sweet girl.”

“I-I- fuck-“ embarrassment pangs inside you, already too ruined to properly respond to him. Even though you hate it, you know Cillian adores it. While pounding into you, he feels your channel become slicker around him, the subtle sound of your wetness filling the room combined with some mewls and heavy breaths.

“C-Cill, gettin’ close-“ you warn, opening your eyes as best you can to see Cillian when you come. The hand that was gripping your jaw slides down your back, creeping over towards the front of your body where Cillian starts to rub quick circles onto your clit. His other hand digging into your hip.

“Come, baby. Please, missed seeing that pretty little face of yours come undone for me.” Cillian encourages with a growl, the mind-melting combination of pleasure had you tipping over the edge merely moments after.

Your orgasm hits you hard, the hardest you’ve come in months. You bite into your bottom lip roughly to try silence yourself. Your knees wobble, nearly giving out beneath you, but Cillian’s strong grasp on your hip keeps you up on your feet. While wincing from sensitivity, you push away the hand that was rubbing your clit, Cillian obliges.

“That’s it,” he groans, his own thrusts becoming sporadic and sloppy, “gonna come inside, baby.”

You nod and whine, the sensitivity and pleasure had your entire body vibrating.

“Please, please come inside. I need it.” You beg almost pathetically, wanting nothing more than to feel Cillian’s warm spend spilling out from inside you. He’s panting, cursing, sweating slightly, desperate to give you as much of his come as he can.

He bites down on your shoulder while keeping his hips flush against yours, his cock almost painfully deep inside you, you feel his cock twitch. His hot seed painting your silk walls, just like he’d been fantasizing about for all this time.

Once it starts to become too much, he slowly pulls himself out, only to lean his body forward while spreading your cheeks apart, attentively watching as some of his come trickles out of your pussy. He brings his middle finger up and gently shoves his come back in, earning a small whimper from you.

He leans back up and smacks your ass, making you gasp and giggle before letting the fabric of your dress fall back down to cover your legs.

Cillian turns you around and kisses you, sweetly and passionately.

“Thank you for the gift, my love.”

“This was just the first part, baby. The real gift comes when we get home.” You tease with a wink. You take the next few moments to clean yourself up and fix your appearance before heading back out to the event.

You spend the rest of that evening with Cillian’s come seeping out of you, a dirty little secret that only the two of you share.

—

this fic doesn’t really do it justice but I loooove in fics involving mirrors where the top or whoever’s in charge forces the other to look at themselves getting ruined :,( eat it up every time

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #hope y’all like this #:)

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coaaster · 10 months ago

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Cold Sheets;

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ - minors DNI!)

Word Count: ~1560

Summary: Jason wakes up to an empty bed.

Warnings: Smut (hinted at and described in one scene), possibly OOC Jason, reader described working as a nurse, self-indulgent ngl, slight angst with a happy ending :)

A/N: I’m in love with Jason Todd, it’s actually a problem.

—

Last night was probably one of the best (and hardest) moments of Jason Todd’s life.

You and Jason have been in a long standing, strictly friends-with-benefits relationship. Recently, though, there’s been more emphasis on the friends part, with the two of you occasionally going over to each other’s houses just to hang out and spend the night. After patrol last night, and upon returning to his depressingly empty apartment, Jason called you. And this time, not for a booty call. He knew you would’ve just finished a late night shift as a nurse, so you were no doubt looking to return home and sleep. But after a particularly gruelling patrol, Jason needed to know that you were alive and breathing.

The feeling in his chest when he thought about you while on patrol couldn’t be ignored anymore. Though Jason was the one to set such strict boundaries on your relationship, he couldn’t help but feel you needed to know his feelings had changed. He wanted more with you. But he wouldn’t tell you that tonight. For now, he just needed you in his arms. That thought alone was the only one keeping his guilt at bay for keeping you awake just a little longer. You answered the phone, clearly exhausted, but warm to the idea of going to Jason’s to sleep.

And, for all intents and purposes, Jason would have let you do just that. His cock was half hard already from the adrenaline rush of patrolling, but it shouldn’t have mattered. He could see how exhausted you were as you walked through the door. But as soon as he had you in his arms, his mouth on yours, he couldn’t stop himself. His tongue was in your mouth, and despite the obvious exhaustion on your face, you responded just as enthusiastically, understandably tense from another long shift.

“Need you, baby.” Jason whispers into your mouth, before fucking you every which way he could on any surface, until finally ending up in his bed.

Jason noticed the sex between you two getting noticeably softer over the months, inevitably leading up to this particular night. With your soft voice calling out his name, both your hands intertwined and your pussy seemingly extra snug this night, a confession had basically been pulled out of him. How much he needed and wanted you, how he couldn’t sleep tonight without knowing you were okay. How he wanted more. So much for waiting to tell you. Sweat dripped from Jason’s brow as he fucked into you so deep that you (hopefully) couldn’t think too hard on his words. The occasional comment on how tight and wet and perfect your pussy was for him was sprinkled in here and there, of course. But you, smart as you were, knew that this wasn’t just a sex thing, and you looked deep into his eyes and whimpered that you felt the same. That you needed him, worried about him when he was out on patrol. Your own winded confession had Jason coming on the spot. It was almost embarrassing if you didn’t look so cock-drunk because of it. You both lasted another round, Jason whispering more sweet nothings into your ear and you whimpering out in overstimulation. You both fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

Upon waking up, Jason’s chest warms at how last night turned out. You very easily could have rejected him, could have said that you didn’t want his feelings on top of the amazing sex. But you didn’t. Yet when he turns to look at the other side of the bed, his chest goes cold. It’s empty. The sheets are rumpled, and when he runs a hand over them, they’re cold to the touch. He checks his phone quickly to see if you’ve left a message, or the nightstand for a notepad with your writing on it. Surely you would have left a message if you had gone out. But both are empty.

Jason sighs in resignation and wonders. Maybe he did come on too strong. You probably just wanted to have some nice, stress-relieving sex after a long shift, free of feelings, and then sleep. Or maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing for you, Jason thinks. That thought hurts Jason more than he cares to admit.

Jason grumbles as he gets up, pulling on some briefs lying on his chair of yet-to-be-folded laundry. He lives alone, so the action is unnecessary, but he doesn’t feel particularly up to seeing his naked self in the mirror. Not so soon after last night, anyway.

When Jason goes to walk through his bedroom door, he hears a clattering sound coming from the kitchen. Immediately, Jason thinks there must be an intruder. What else could it possibly be?

Momentarily forgetting that his apartment has one of the best security systems in the city, Jason turns the corner, armed with a candle holder. It’s not a gun, but in the hands of a trained killer, it would do. Chose the wrong house on the wrong fucking day, buddy, Jason thinks.

But upon entering the kitchen, Jason sees… you? You’re humming under your breath, standing over a fresh pot of coffee, dressed in… is that his shirt?! Jason can’t help the little skip in his chest at the sight of you. Well, this is infinitely better than an intruder. He was so sure you’d left, too overwhelmed with the knowledge of his feelings for you. But you’re here. He never should have doubted you.

Jason chuckles, dumping his makeshift weapon on to a side table. You jump at the sound, turning to see a very much awake Jason Todd.

“Oh! Morning, I made us some coff-“ Jason’s arms wrap around your waist, head buried into the crook of your neck. “-ee?” You wrap your arms around Jason’s shoulders, running a hand through his undercut.

“Everything okay?” you whisper lightly, listening to the sounds of Jason’s breathing. He turns his head, burying his nose into your hair instead.

Jason hums an affirmative and pulls back to look you in the eye. “Thought you left without saying goodbye this morning,” he says, half joking as if to not worry you. He lifts a hand from your waist, his fingers running over your cheek and down your jaw in the hopes of distracting you from his concern. It doesn’t work, because you know him so well. You hold his hand against your cheek, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

“Nah, I just needed my morning coffee.” You kiss his hand again, “Probably would’ve woken you up if I was going somewhere, anyway.” Jason hums, satisfied with your answer. You clear your throat.

“So, about last night…” Jason’s face drops. He knew this conversation was coming, but he would’ve appreciated a bit of a roll around in the sheets before it happened.

Jason returns his hands to your waist and looks you in the eye. “If it’s too much for you, we can just ignore it.” Though it hurts Jason to say, he knows it’s true. He could pretend to never have said what he did, and even abandon the whole ‘with-benefits’ part of your friendship. As long as he got to be near you, that was enough.

You raise your eyebrows in response. “Oh.” You look disappointed for a moment. “Well. I was going to say that if you really meant what you said last night, then you should probably take me out on a date, but…”

Jason’s face blanks. “Wait, what?” That was not the direction he thought this conversation was taking. His heart beats faster in anticipation.

You blink up at him. “What do you mean, what? Hang on, were you just saying that to get off or-“

“No, no, of course not, I-“ Jason breaths in slowly and then looks back at you. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

You’re bewildered for a moment but Jason quickly explains.

“Let me take you out on a date. A proper one.” He steps in closer, cupping your face. “I did mean everything I said last night. I want more with you. So- fuck, I’ve never done this before.”

You roll your eyes playfully, muttering a clearly under your breath, which Jason pinches you on the cheek for in jest.

Jason’s grinning now, and a smile is spreading on your face, too, “Let me take you to that Italian place you always talk about. Tonight.”

You tap your chin as if in thought, “Hmm, I don’t know, I’m pretty busy tonight…”

“Liar.”

You gasp dramatically at his accusation, but he’s smiling, at least. Considering he knows your schedule back to front, you’re not surprised he would call you out so quickly.

You pull him closer by his thick waist, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. The tops of his cheeks turn a shade of red and you can’t help but think that, despite Jason’s large size, he was still so fucking cute.

“Yes, Jason Todd. Take me out to dinner.”

Jason looks down at your smiling face, wraps his large hands around your waist and sighs. He leans down to kiss you, without the intention of it leading to more. Because he can just do that now.

Scratch what Jason said about last night. This is the best moment of his life.

—

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc #red hood #jason todd #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #jason todd fluff #i’m gnawing at the bars of mY enclosure to get to this man #dc drabble #jason todd drabble #jason todd x reader drabble #jason todd u silly goose how could u EVER think i’d leave you behind

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merlincmgirl · 20 days ago

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Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.

Characters: Commander Mayday

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 11,256

Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship

Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.

New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.

The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.

As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.

Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.

“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.

“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.

“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.

“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.

“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.

Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.

As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.

“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.

There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.

“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.

As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?

“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.

“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.

Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.

“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.

“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.

Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.

Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.

Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.

Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.

“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.

“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.

From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.

While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.

And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.

But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.

Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.

“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.

From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.

“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.

Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.

“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.

“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.

As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.

A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.

“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.

It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.

“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.

Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.

“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.

Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.

“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”

Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.

As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.

He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.

“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.

“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.

Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.

Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.

Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”

Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.

“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.

“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.

“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?

“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.

“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.

“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.

“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.

Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.

“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.

“I have.”

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.

There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.

“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.

“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.

His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment you recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.

“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.

“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.

Mayday growled out your name in warning.

“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.

Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.

“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.

“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.

“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.

The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.

Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.

You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.

It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.

Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.

Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.

“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.

“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.

“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.

“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.

“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.

“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.

“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.

“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.

“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, directing you out of the cargo hold.

Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.

As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.

Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.

Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.

“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?

The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.

There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attack the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.

Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.

“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.

“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.

Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.

“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.

“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.

Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in a room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.

“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.

He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.

“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.

��I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.

“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?

You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.

“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.

“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.

“Mayday!”

“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.

Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.

His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.

With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.

“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.

Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.

The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.

Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.

However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.

With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.

When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.

He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.

“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.

He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.

Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.

You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.

“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.

Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.

“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.

Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.

“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.

He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.

Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.

“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.

Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.

“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.

Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.

Freezing, he looked between himself and you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.

“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.

Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.

Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.

Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your mound.

Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.

“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.

He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.

“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.

“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?

Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.

“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.

“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.

He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.

Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.

“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.

You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.

Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.

His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.

However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.

“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.

Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.

“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.

The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.

Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as he pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.

It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.

Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.

He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but he froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.

“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.

“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at his words.

Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.

“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.

Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.

He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.

Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. “Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.

You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.

Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.

As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.

“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.

Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.

“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.

Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.

As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the base of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.

“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.

Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.

Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.

“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.

“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.

“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”

As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.

“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.

“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.

“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.

Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.

Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.

Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.

The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.

Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.

As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.

“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering just at the thought.

“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.

Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.

Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into yours sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.

“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.

But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.

Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.

“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.

Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.

With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.

Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.

Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.

“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.

“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.

#commander mayday #commander mayday x reader #mayday tbb #star wars #the bad batch #star wars x reader #star wars tbb #tbb #star wars the bad batch #star wars tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clones #clone troopers #kinktober 2024

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miley1442111 · 8 months ago

Note

Part two or something with the breaking rules with Aaron Hotchner ;)

i have no idea if you wanted like a direct continuation or what so this is what my brain came up with :)

better than ok- a.hotchner

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: after a few months of dating aaron, surely he'll visit you in hospital, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general angst, regular criminal minds topics, kidnapping, general fighting, kissing, emotional stuff

Being a BAU agent wasn’t for the weak. It was gruelling hours, giving up any and all forms of a social life, and-oh yeah, getting taken by the unSub as your team desperately searched for you.

It had been what, three days? You were drugged and brought to a warehouse. You had found the door in and out, found out the identity of the unSub and almost found a way to contact your team before the drugging started happening regularly, and with the drugging came the assault. You were allergic to propofol, so your body was close to giving up when your team found you. At the hospital you were under for 3 days straight, then in and out.

Your boyfriend (and boss) didn’t come to see you once. Until now.

“Hi honey,” he walked in, a hardened expression on his face. “How are you feeling?”

You didn’t speak. You weren’t meant to. You had been choked, almost to death every night before you passed out. You nodded.

“I was so worried, I-”

“Not worried enough to come see me though,” your own voice sounded foreign to you, raspy and painful, you talked for the first time in a week.

“I couldn’t,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t because then it’d all become real and it would prove something I don’t want to prove,” he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

“What would it prove?!” You shouted to the best of your ability. You were mad, and rightfully so. For the past week you were in hospital, in pain, alone.

“It would prove that I can’t protect you. That everything I do to keep you safe still isn’t enough.”

“Aaron, that's not fair! I needed you. I fucking needed you here and you weren’t. That’s not caring about someone,” you sneered. You’d only started dating a few months ago, due to a heated training session.

“Honey, I care about you so much, I know this was wrong but I just…” he swallowed again “I couldn’t risk the thought of you hating me. I’m your leader, I should be able to keep my team safe-”

“Aaron,” you stopped him. “None of this is your fault, you know that, right?”

He stared at you for a second. “I know.”

“So, why are you acting like it is? This is my job, I chose it, not you. I chose to put myself in this danger. No, you can’t always protect me but almost 80% of the time you do. You.”

He sighed and held your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to it. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” You smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I couldn’t go any longer without seeing you,” he admitted.

“I couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.”

He chuckled and sighed. “So, we’re ok?”

“We’re better than ok,” you promised. Though you knew there were going to be difficult times ahead and some rough patches, you knew you’d get through it. You knew you’d get through it with him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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callsigns-haze · 1 month ago

Text

You knew? Part 3 of 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: A fierce rivalry between two Navy pilots, Ace and Rooster, turns into a deeper connection as they confront their fears, emotions, and unspoken feelings after a near-fatal incident forces them to rely on each other.

This chapter contains themes of emotional conflict, betrayal, and recovery from a near-death experience, mentions of inequality and anxiety. Expect tense dialogue and unresolved emotions

Two months had passed since Ace's crash, and the recovery process had been slow, gruelling, and at times, frustrating. After three weeks in the hospital, where she’d undergone multiple procedures and endured long days of observation, she had been released to start physical therapy. The last few weeks had been filled with rehab, regaining mobility and strength in her battered body. Her right wrist was still wrapped in a brace, a constant reminder of the crash, and a knee brace stabilized her leg. Three fingers on her left hand were splinted, but despite all that, tomorrow was the day she had been waiting for—her return to work.

Today, though, was about one last bit of self-care. Penny and Amelia had come over to help her wash her hair, a simple luxury she hadn’t been able to manage easily on her own in weeks. Now, they were gathered around the kitchen sink in Penny’s cozy house, sunlight streaming through the windows and casting a warm glow over the room.

Ace sat in a chair pulled up to the sink, her head tilted back as Penny worked the shampoo through her hair, fingers gentle but firm. Amelia stood nearby, holding a towel and chatting animatedly with her mother and Ace as she helped by handing Penny anything she needed.

“You're so lucky you get to go back to work tomorrow," Amelia said, her youthful energy spilling over into every word. “You must be excited.”

Ace smiled faintly, though the truth was, excitement wasn’t the only emotion swirling in her chest. "Excited? Yeah, sure. But also a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve flown, and I’m not exactly in perfect shape yet.” She wiggled her splinted fingers as if to emphasize the point.

Penny chuckled softly, rinsing out the shampoo with warm water. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. You’ve been working so hard to get back, and everyone at the base knows you’re tough as nails. Besides, you're just easing into things, right? No dogfights on your first day back.”

Ace sighed, the warm water soothing as it ran through her hair. “Yeah, I’m just doing some simulations and light training, nothing crazy. But you know how it is, there’s always that pressure to be perfect, especially with everyone watching.”

Penny glanced down at her, a reassuring smile on her face. “No one expects you to be perfect. Just take it slow. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to give yourself credit for how far you’ve come.”

Amelia nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, besides, with all that cool gear you’ve got—" she motioned to the wrist brace and knee brace with a playful grin, “—you look like a total superhero.”

Ace laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest in a way that felt good. Light. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely rocking the superhero vibe.”

Penny finished rinsing the last of the shampoo from Ace’s hair and reached for the conditioner. “You’ll be back to your old self in no time. And it’s okay to ask for help when you need it. You’ve got people who care about you.”

Ace went quiet for a moment, thinking about those words. People who cared. She hadn’t made it easy for them, not with the way she had been avoiding Rooster, Hangman, and even Phoenix since the whole email mess. She’d kept her distance from the Dagger Squad, focusing on recovery and shutting out anything else. But Penny was right—she wasn’t alone.

“You’re right,” Ace said finally, her voice softer. “I guess I’ve just been too stubborn to realize it.”

Penny smiled knowingly as she worked the conditioner through Ace’s hair. “It’s okay to be stubborn sometimes. Just not when it keeps you from letting people in.”

Amelia chimed in again. “Yeah, like us! You know we’re here to help you with anything. Even something as simple as washing your hair.”

Ace smiled again, the warmth of their kindness washing over her like the water from the sink. “Thanks, shortstack. I really appreciate this. I didn’t think I’d miss something as small as having clean hair.”

Penny chuckled, gently massaging the conditioner into Ace’s scalp. “Sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest difference, especially when you’re healing. You’ve earned a bit of pampering.”

Amelia handed Penny a comb, and she carefully started working through Ace’s damp hair. “And speaking of pampering, maybe you should take tomorrow easy. Just focus on getting back in the cockpit, not proving anything to anyone.”

Ace exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of that advice. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I don’t have to prove anything… except that I can still kick everyone’s ass when I’m fully healed.”

Amelia grinned, stepping closer with the towel. “That’s the spirit! Just make sure you wait until you’re totally ready. We don’t need another close call.”

The sun was barely rising as Ace pulled into the parking lot at the base, the familiar hum of engines and the sight of planes in the distance reminding her of how much she had missed this. Today was the day she would finally return to work, and despite the aches in her body and the braces she still wore, a part of her felt more alive than she had in months.

As she parked her car and grabbed her bag, she spotted a familiar figure waiting by the edge of the lot—tall, with a cocky grin already plastered on his face. Hangman. Her wingman. He waved at her, his ever-present confidence practically radiating from him.

Weeks ago, they had finally made amends after the email debacle. Despite his tendency to be a total douche, he had been the first to apologize, and Ace, knowing they were bound as wingmen, had accepted. Their relationship had always been complicated, but they’d grown closer after everything. He was still cocky and annoying, but he was her wingman, and that meant something.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, he called out to her. “Well, well, if it isn’t the bionic woman herself! Ready to fly again?”

Ace rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start, Hangman. I’m barely back, and you’re already running your mouth.”

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” he shot back, striding over to her with his easy, swaggering gait.

Before she could say anything more, Hangman’s arms were open, and in a rare display of softness, Ace ran into his hug. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and for a moment, she let herself relax into it. It felt good. Comforting, even.

“Missed you, Ace,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he held her close. “It wasn’t the same without you out there.”

She chuckled against his shoulder before pulling back slightly to look up at him. “Missed me or missed someone keeping you in line?”

“Both,” he admitted with a grin, his green eyes twinkling. “But mostly you.”

She rolled her eyes again, playfully shoving him back. “Alright, don’t get all sentimental on me. You’re still a douche.”

“And you’re still a pain in my ass, but I guess that’s why we work so well together,” he shot back, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they started walking toward the hangars.

The early morning air was crisp, and the base was already buzzing with activity as they walked, the sound of jets warming up in the background. Ace felt a sense of relief wash over her. This was her world—the adrenaline, the camaraderie, the sky. And as much as she liked to pretend she didn’t care, having Hangman by her side meant something. He wasn’t just a wingman in the air; he was one on the ground, too.

“So,” Hangman started, his arm still draped around her as they made their way toward the flight deck, “what’s the plan? You gonna take it easy, or are you back to kicking ass right away?”

Ace smirked, glancing up at him. “You know me. I never do anything halfway.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I figured as much. Just try not to break any more bones, alright?”

“Only if you keep your mouth in check,” she teased.

“Deal,” he said, grinning widely.

Rooster and Phoenix were sitting in the briefing room, catching up on the day’s assignments before the pilots gathered for the afternoon’s debrief. Rooster was flipping through a stack of paperwork, while Phoenix studied a training report, their conversation flowing easily between them.

“You know,” Phoenix began, glancing up from her report, “I saw Hangman and Ace talking in the parking lot this morning. It looked like they were actually... getting along.”

Rooster looked up, a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Hangman and Ace? Really? After everything that’s happened?”

“Yeah,” Phoenix replied with a nod. “I know it’s been a mess, but it seems like they finally patched things up. They were hugging and joking around. It’s good to see them talking, especially after how things went down.”

Rooster sighed, setting down his paperwork. “I suppose it’s good. Hangman’s an ass sometimes, but he’s still a part of the team. And Ace... well, she deserves to have things settled. It’s been rough for her.”

Phoenix nodded in agreement. “Definitely. I think it’s a step in the right direction. Everyone’s been a bit on edge, and having some harmony back will help. She’s been through enough already.”

Rooster leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah. I guess it’s nice to see some normalcy returning. I just hope she’s ready for the workload. It’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

“True,” Phoenix said, “but I think she’s more than ready. She’s a tough one, after all.”

As Ace and Hangman walked into the hangar, their presence didn’t go unnoticed. The air was charged with anticipation as pilots from different squadrons looked up from their desks. The chatter in the hangar hushed, and one by one, the pilots began to stand up, clapping and cheering as Ace made her way through.

Ace’s cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected reception, but she couldn’t hide her smile. The applause was a testament to how much she had been missed, and the camaraderie she had felt throughout her career was palpable. Hangman grinned at her, his usual cocky demeanour softened by a rare moment of genuine pride.

“Looks like they missed you,” Hangman said, his voice loud enough for her to hear over the clapping.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ace replied, a mix of emotions crossing her face as she acknowledged the warm welcome. “It feels good to be back.”

As they continued to walk toward their desks, Cyclone approached them, his expression serious but not unfriendly. He was one of the senior officers, known for his no-nonsense attitude and his role in maintaining the high standards of the squadron.

“Ace,” Cyclone said, extending a hand. “Welcome back. I see you’ve made a full recovery.”

“Thanks, Cyclone,” Ace replied, shaking his hand firmly.

Cyclone’s gaze was steady as he regarded her. “There’s something we need to discuss, though. Before you get back into the thick of things, I need to give you the ‘getting shot’ talk.”

Ace’s smile faded slightly as she nodded, taking a step closer. Hangman, sensing the seriousness of the conversation, gave Ace a supportive pat on the back before stepping back to give them space.

Cyclone led her to a quieter corner of the hangar, away from the bustling activity. “Look, Ace,” he began, his tone serious but not harsh, “you’ve been through a lot. We’re all thrilled you’re back, but I need to remind you of the risks.”

Ace nodded, her face turning serious as she listened. “I understand, Cyclone.”

“The job isn’t forgiving,” Cyclone continued, “and while we’re all rooting for you, I need to make sure you’re aware of what you’re getting back into. Things might not always go as planned, and you need to be prepared for the worst-case scenarios.”

“I’m ready,” Ace said firmly. “I’ve been through a lot, and I’m ready to face whatever comes my way.”

Cyclone studied her for a moment, then nodded approvingly. “Good. I know you’ve got the skills and the determination. Just remember, even with everything you’ve been through, don’t push yourself beyond your limits. The squad needs you at your best, and that means taking care of yourself.”

“I will,” Ace promised. “I’m not planning to take unnecessary risks.”

Cyclone’s stern expression softened slightly as he clapped her on the shoulder. “Alright then. Just remember we’re all here for you. Now, go get settled in. We’ve got work to do.”

As Cyclone walked away, Ace returned to her desk, her heart warmed by the support she had received from her fellow pilots and the encouraging words from Cyclone. The applause and the talk had reinforced her resolve, reminding her that she was not just returning to work, but stepping back into a community that valued her.

Ace stepped into the break room, hoping to grab a quick coffee before the next round of meetings. She was grateful for a moment of peace after the overwhelming reception she had gotten that morning. The applause had been heart-warming, but she still wasn’t sure how to handle all the attention. Her wrist brace rubbed against her skin, a constant reminder that she wasn’t fully healed. The splints on her fingers made even small tasks feel clumsy, and the knee brace pulled with every step. She just wanted to get through the day without feeling like everyone was watching her every move.

As she filled her cup, she heard the door to the break room open and felt a familiar presence behind her. Rooster.

Ace stiffened, trying to focus on the sound of coffee pouring into the mug. She hadn’t spoken much to Rooster since the email incident months ago, and the tension between them had only grown. She’d made it her mission to avoid any serious confrontation, especially after everything that had happened. But now, in this small break room, there was no escape.

"Hey," Rooster's voice cut through the quiet, low and cautious.

Ace glanced over her shoulder, giving him a quick nod before turning back to her coffee. “Hey,” she mumbled, hoping to keep the exchange brief.

But Rooster’s eyes weren’t on her face. They were locked on her wrist brace, his gaze then traveling down to her splinted fingers, and finally her knee. She could feel his eyes on her, taking in every bit of evidence of her injuries.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

Ace forced a small smile, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a few bumps and bruises.”

Rooster didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed, and the usual lightness in his eyes was replaced by something heavier. “Ace… you don’t have to act tough all the time.”

She bristled at that, her hand tightening around the mug. “I’m not acting tough. I am tough,” she shot back, a bit more sharply than she intended.

Rooster sighed, stepping a little closer. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t get why you hate me so much.”

The words hit Ace like a punch to the gut. She froze, staring into the coffee as if it could give her the answer to what had been brewing inside her for so long. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel her walls starting to crack, but she wasn’t ready to go there. Not now. Not with him.

“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly, but the lie was thin.

Rooster shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. “No, you do. You’ve hated me for years, Ace, and I don’t know why. Is it because of the email thing? Or is it something else?”

The dam inside her finally broke. She slammed her cup down on the counter, the sound loud and jarring in the small room. Her whole body tensed as she spun around to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and pain.

“You want to know why?” she shouted, her voice cracking under the weight of years of pent-up frustration. “It’s because all my life, I’ve had to prove that I’m better than you! Every. Single. Time. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail just to be seen as your equal!”

Rooster blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her outburst, but she wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it, Bradley. You never had to. You walk into a room, and people respect you. You get the benefit of the doubt. But me? I have to prove myself every single time because I’m a woman. And it’s not enough to just be as good as you. I have to be better. I have to be perfect, because if I’m not, no one gives me a second look.”

Her voice was rising now, years of resentment spilling out like a flood she could no longer contain. “Every time you were just a few points behind me, you still got the job, the promotion, the respect. You got to fly, and I had to fight for every damn mission! And why? Because I wasn’t a man? Because no one believed I could be as good as you?”

Rooster stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, but the words wouldn’t come. He had never seen her like this—so raw, so exposed. The anger in her voice shook him to his core.

Ace was breathing heavily now, her hands trembling as she tried to keep it together. “Do you know what that feels like?” she continued, her voice breaking. “To have to prove over and over that you’re good enough? And even when I do, it’s still not enough! I almost died out there, Rooster. I almost didn’t make it, and no one would’ve cared because to them, I’m just a woman trying to play in the boys’ club!”

Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let herself break in front of him. Not completely.

Rooster finally found his voice, though it was hoarse and low. “Ace, I didn’t know… I didn’t realize it was like that for you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she spat, her voice laced with bitterness. “You never had to think about it.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily between them. Rooster didn’t know what to say, how to fix the wound he hadn’t even realized existed. All he could do was stand there, staring at her as she stood on the edge of breaking down.

“I don’t hate you, Rooster,” Ace finally said, her voice quieter now, full of exhaustion. “But I hate how easy it is for you. And I hate that I have to work twice as hard just to be seen.”

Rooster stepped closer, reaching out as if to touch her arm, but he stopped himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted you to feel like that.”

Ace shook her head, wiping at her eyes roughly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just the way it is.”

Rooster looked at her, his own emotions conflicted, guilt weighing heavily on him. He wanted to say more, to fix it somehow, but nothing seemed enough.

The room was buzzing with energy, pilots eager to get up in their jets, but everyone quieted as Maverick cleared his throat.

“Alright, listen up,” Maverick started, his voice carrying the authority that came from years of experience. “Today, we’re pairing up for some head-to-head dogfights. I want you pushing yourselves, testing your limits, and working together. Your teams are as follows: Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob—your trio is up against Hangman and Ace.”

Ace felt her heart skip a beat. A dogfight against Rooster? After everything that had gone down between them, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be in direct competition with him again. But she wasn’t about to back down. Not now. Not after everything she’d fought through to get back here.

“Get in your daggers and take to the sky,” Maverick said, his eyes scanning the group. “Give me your best. I’ll be monitoring from the ground.”

Ace exchanged a glance with Hangman, who gave her a confident smirk. “Ready to show them what we’re made of?” he asked, his voice oozing with cocky enthusiasm.

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Always.”

The Daggers launched into the sky, their jets slicing through the air like knives. Ace settled into the cockpit of her F/A-18, the familiar weight of her helmet and the tight confines of the jet making her feel at home. It had been weeks since she’d been in a full-on dogfight, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins told her she was more than ready.

“Alright, Ace,” Hangman’s voice crackled through her headset, “let’s take it to them.”

“Copy that,” she replied, her voice steady, though inside she felt the rush of anticipation building.

Up ahead, Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob were already in formation, their planes glinting in the sunlight. Rooster’s jet took point, with Phoenix and Bob flanking him. They were an experienced team, and she knew they wouldn’t be easy to take down.

The exercise began with the two teams on opposite ends of the airspace. As soon as Maverick gave the signal, they surged forward, closing the gap between them.

“Stay sharp,” Hangman said, his voice calm but with an edge of excitement. “We’ll break off, keep them guessing.”

“Got it,” Ace replied, her hands tightening on the controls.

Rooster’s team was the first to engage, diving toward them in a sharp descent. Ace quickly banked left, feeling the g-force pull her hard against her seat. Hangman followed suit, both of them splitting up to force Rooster’s team to make a decision—go after her or Hangman.

“Phoenix, Bob, take Hangman. I’ve got Ace,” Rooster called out through the radio, his voice filled with determination.

Ace’s heart raced as she heard Rooster’s voice in her headset, knowing he’d chosen to target her. She pushed her jet to its limits, pulling tight turns and diving low, trying to shake him. But Rooster was relentless, sticking close behind her, his jet always in her rear-view.

“You’re not gonna shake me that easy, Ace,” Rooster’s voice taunted over the radio.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered under her breath.

Ahead, she saw her chance—a controlled stall. It was a risky manoeuvre, especially with her recent history, but if she timed it right, she could drop below Rooster, forcing him to overshoot her.

Without hesitation, Ace pulled back hard on the throttle, her jet climbing steeply into the sky. At the apex, she cut the engines, allowing her jet to stall, hanging momentarily in the air before beginning its fall.

Rooster shot past her, his jet zooming overhead as he lost sight of her. It worked. But just as Ace went to flick the engines back on, nothing happened.

For a split second, panic surged through her. The jet was still falling, the ground coming up fast, and her fingers flicked the switches again and again, waiting for the familiar hum of the engines roaring back to life.

“Come on, come on…” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. The cockpit was eerily quiet, the stall lasting longer than it should have.

Finally, with a sputter and a roar, the engines kicked back in, sending her jet lurching forward. But the delay had been enough to send her heart racing, and the brief moment of terror still gripped her. She levelled out, her breathing heavy, her hands slightly trembling on the controls.

“I’m calling it,” she said into the radio, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I’m done for the day. Requesting permission to land.”

There was a pause, and then Maverick’s calm voice came over the comms. “Permission granted, Ace. Take her in.”

Ace steadied her jet, bringing it around toward the base. Hangman’s voice crackled through her headset, concern lacing his tone. “You alright, Ace?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, though her voice lacked its usual edge. “Just need to get on the ground.”

As she began her descent toward the runway, the rest of the Daggers continued their dogfight above. But Ace’s focus was solely on landing her plane. Her mind replayed the moment of panic over and over, the feeling of helplessness as the engine refused to start.

The second Ace’s plane touched the ground, she didn’t waste a moment. As soon as her jet came to a stop on the tarmac, she popped the canopy, her breath shallow and hurried. She climbed down from the cockpit, her legs wobbly beneath her, but she didn’t wait for anyone. Not the ground crew, not the Dagger squad, no one.

Without making eye contact with anyone, Ace pulled off her helmet and sprinted across the base, straight toward the changing rooms. Her vision tunnelled, her heart racing in her chest, and her only focus was on getting away from the eyes of her teammates. The air felt too thick, too hot, pressing in on her from all sides. She could hear her own shallow breathing in her ears, louder than the hum of engines behind her. Her hands were trembling, the adrenaline that had once fuelled her now turning into something darker—panic.

As she reached the door to the changing rooms, she shoved it open and slammed it behind her. The room was empty, silent, but it did little to calm the storm building inside her. Ace leaned against the locker, her hands gripping the cool metal as she gasped for air. Her chest tightened, and her head swam as the reality of what had happened in the air hit her with full force. She had lost control. She could’ve crashed. The panic she had fought off in the sky was now consuming her, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Dagger squad began their descent. Hangman, Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob touched down one after the other, the adrenaline of the dogfight still buzzing in their veins. Hangman glanced over to the spot where Ace’s jet had landed and frowned. She was already gone, no sign of her anywhere on the tarmac.

“Where did she go?” Phoenix asked, her voice concerned as she climbed out of her jet.

Rooster’s eyes followed the path Ace had taken, his gut twisting. “I think she went to the changing rooms,” he muttered, already moving before anyone could stop him.

Hangman watched him with a knowing look, but said nothing. Phoenix and Bob exchanged glances, but they didn’t ask questions. They knew something was wrong—everyone could feel it in the air.

Rooster didn’t wait to hear anything else. He jogged across the tarmac, his heart pounding in his chest, not from the flight but from the fear that something was wrong with Ace. The way she had bolted from her jet, the way she avoided them—something wasn’t right.

He reached the door to the changing rooms and hesitated for a split second before pushing it open. The moment he stepped inside, he heard it—the sound of rapid, shallow breaths, gasps that echoed off the walls. His heart clenched as he rounded the corner and saw her.

Ace was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the lockers, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her helmet and flight gear were tossed carelessly to the side, and her hands were gripping the fabric of her flight suit so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, and tears streaked down her face as she struggled to breathe, each breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Hey, hey,” Rooster said softly, rushing to her side and kneeling down in front of her. “Ace, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

She didn’t respond, her chest heaving as she tried to pull in air, but it wasn’t coming fast enough. She was lost in the panic, trapped in the fear that had taken hold of her.

Rooster’s heart broke at the sight of her like this, so strong and fierce but now unravelling in front of him. Without thinking, he reached out and gently took her hands in his, prying them away from her flight suit. “Ace, look at me,” he urged, his voice low and calming. “Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe.”

Her eyes flickered to his, but she still looked far away, her breaths coming in harsh pants. Rooster squeezed her hands, grounding her in the present. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on, you can do this.”

He demonstrated, taking slow, deep breaths, and after a few seconds, Ace began to follow his lead. Her breaths were still shaky, but they were slowing down, becoming more controlled. Rooster didn’t let go of her hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her skin.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” he whispered, watching as the tension in her shoulders slowly began to release. “Just keep breathing.”

After a few minutes, Ace’s breathing evened out, and she slumped back against the lockers, her chest still rising and falling rapidly but no longer in a full-blown panic. Rooster stayed close, his hands still holding hers, not saying anything for a moment, just giving her time to collect herself.

When she finally looked at him, her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

“I—I lost control up there,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. “I could’ve crashed. I don’t know what happened…”

Rooster shook his head softly, moving closer. “You didn’t crash,” he said firmly. “You handled it. You brought the plane down. You’re here, Ace. You’re okay.”

She swallowed hard, the weight of what had almost happened still heavy on her chest. “I panicked… I don’t panic.”

Rooster reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch soft and reassuring. “You’re human. Even the best of us get scared sometimes.”

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the vulnerability was too much. “I thought I was past this. I thought I could handle it…”

Rooster leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “You don’t have to handle everything alone,” he whispered. “I’ve never wanted to be better than you, Ace. I’ve always just wanted to fly with you.”

Her breath hitched, and she opened her eyes, meeting his. He gave her a small, tender smile, the usual cocky bravado gone, replaced with genuine care.

“I’ve always cared about you,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to compete with you. I just wanted to be beside you.”

Before she could say anything, Rooster pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. It wasn’t romantic—it was comforting, grounding. He was showing her that she wasn’t alone.

Ace’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—relief, fear, gratitude, and something she couldn’t quite name. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, leaning into him just a little.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to prove anything. Not to him. Not to anyone.

This sure took a while but I reached 1k and thought I should finish it!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

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severely sleep deprived and on the verge of collapse in exfil that’s almost a month late due to many, many unfortunate and uncontrollable obstacles, ghost and soap are just about delirious as they sink into uncomfortable seats and noise

ghost doesn’t so much as bristle when soap leans against him in front of everyone, melting into the lieutenant’s side like he’d been unable to properly do for the entirety of their gruelling mission. he does, however, begin to laugh quietly at soap’s muttered complaints and scottish grumblings, which only gets soap to tilt his head and peer up at ghost with a frown

when he asks if something’s funny, ghost just laughs harder. he can’t help it. nothing is funny, really, about the situation, but with a head full of cotton and not even half a mind to be conscious of his surroundings and who else is present, ghost just laughs

and eventually, just as confused and out of it, soap joins him. soft giggles give way to full-bellied laughs until soap is doubled over in the helo but still squished up against ghost, the two of them laughing until their stomachs ache

nothing’s funny. nothing. but it’s release they don’t often get, and that’s honestly enough of a reason to not mind the stares from their colleagues as they find amusement in nothing but the air they breathe

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap

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couchpotatoaniki · 9 months ago

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An Annoying Kind of Pretty

Pairing: College Rival!Jungkook x College!Reader (British college, so basically senior year in highschool--they're 18) Word count: 4k+ Tags: mega fluff, light swearing, mentions of very mild violence (banter...maybe), mentions of clowns, reader is terrified of them, honestly, just cute shit, and they're being idiots A/N: I'm in the middle of reading Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute by Talia Hibbert and this just sprung to mind soooooooo yeah

No matter how much you scrub, you can't get this darn plate clean. At this point, you're ready to smash it to pieces so you don't have to spend another second on it. But, alas, this is not your dish and therefore dish-smashing rights are revoked. A true travesty, considering how ugly the damn thing looks anyway. Society would be better off without it.

But you scrub, scrub, scr--"Are you done?" A deep voice rumbles behind you. Involuntarily, your eyes close to hide the annoyance flickering through them, lest he somehow sees through the obscured reflection of the kitchen window. This time you've spent together has taught you he's almost decent at guessing body language (almost--he's still otherwise a useless male).

Gosh, if only you could destroy the plate and take a shard to one of his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. Honestly, the fact that a man like him has such wonderful features is what you'd consider to be a crime that nature has committed.

"What does it look like?" Yeah, maybe you should relax your jaw before your teeth grind to dust. Your dentist would have a heartattack if she saw the stress they've put them under lately (she likes to talk about them like they're some separate entity, a bit odd but she's sweet and likes to rant about her cats so you can happily bare it).

"Looks like you're slacking off."

Excuse me? "Maybe I'd be more efficient if you didn't leave your dishes to grow a mini ecosystem in your kitchen. You're likely worshiped as a god by bacteria since you created them their own little world."

He rolls his eyes. This you can't see through the haze of his reflection on the slightly filthy window but you've somehow grown accustomed to his mannerisms. Like a shitty superpower.

"Don't be so dra--"

"If you dare say 'dramatic', the next thing I'll be cleaning are your insides off the floor and countertops."

His reflection raises a hand in mock surrender. "Touché. But for your information, I don't live here."

This makes you turn around, pinning him with a glare. "If you don't live here, which ogre or troll does?"

"My brother. But he's been... ah, what's the word--" he waves his hand in a circular motion with his eyes closed, only to open again at the snap of his fingers--"backpacking across mainland Europe for past three months."

A huff leaves your nose as you return to the gruelling task at hand. You're going to need a shower after this, maybe two, just to make sure you don't catch the Black Plague or some other disease that would trigger another pandemic. "Then why am I here?"

"Because you owe me, remember?"

"Yes, you--not your brother that can't even remember to put away his dishes before he goes on stupidly basic holidays."

"'Stupidly basic'?" Jungkook's frame hobbles into the corner of your eye as he mocks you with a smirk. Darn him and his unusually large (and unfortunately well sculpted) build. A disgustingly natural beauty that demands attention, but you'd rather poke your eye repeatedly than admit that to him lest his cocky smirk and big head grow more than it already has.

Yet, you can't help a glance in his direction. Props to you though, your face managed to not betray your soul and remained in it's usual disinterested state.

"If I had a penny for every time I've heard someone backpacking across Europe, I'd be so rich I wouldn't have to pay you back with my services."

"Considering you sprained my wrist and my ankle, I'd request both payment in money and services."

The thought of the Incidents sent and involuntary shudder down your spine. About two weeks ago, you were minding your own business in the library, one thing led to another and long story short, you accidently pushed the usually well-balanced hulking man onto the hardwood floor and his hand landed at a funky angle. Less than 72 hours had passed and various shenanigans ensued involving 12 glue sticks, streamers, a helium tank, and an unwanted clown roaming the gymnasium which led to his second trip to Accident and Emergency.

In all fairness, he shouldn't have even been there helping to set up the farewell assembly for the final years in the first place. His fault, really, but he wouldn't hear of it since you did crash into him as you were running away from a definite (maybe) psycho killer.

"How many times do I have to apologise," you huff.

His finger taps his chin in mock thought. "Preferably forever, seeing as though I am having to limit my activities while it's the summer holidays before we go off to uni. But I suppose having you as my little servant until I get better is decent enough."

You send him another glare before carrying on. Almost spotless, this dish. "This is abuse of power."

He raised his cast as well as a deadpanned expression onto his face. "And this was just regular abuse."

"It was self-defence."

"Against me or the very innocent clown you claimed was 'chasing' you?"

"Both. And he was chasing me. I was terrified."

"Remind me when your birthday is?"

"Why?"

"No particular reason. Certainly not a clown-related one for retaliation. None whatsoever."

Your head turns so quickly to him that it almost gives you whiplash. "You dare."

"We'll just have to see."

Huffing, you finish up the last of the dishes, with Jungkook sat on the countertop beside yours (with a bit of difficulty). Guilt begins to bleed out of your heart and pool into a warmth in your cheeks as you once more mumble an apology to him, the dishes suddenly looking more appealing for your eyes to land on. "I... I really am sorry, though."

He sighs--as he usually does when you once more feel horrible about the state he is in and try to voice it. "Stop that."

For the millionth time, you purse your lips, ready to let a few beats of silence pass before you could say something to return it back to that annoyingly fun hateful banter than the heavy and suffocating air that follows an apology. Jungkook, however, did not care for your mental plans (you don't really think he cares about much of anything besides his grades, friends, and snacks like a typical man).

"Can I... admit something to you? So, like, Truce?"

"...Truce." You reach out for a cloth to wipe anything left on the countertop, but ears keenly remained on him.

"I'm kinda... glad you fucked up my arm." You send him an incredulous look, to which he blurts in response, "don't get me wrong, it hurts like shit and I'm no masochist, but having you here doing my bidding--" his lips quirked at the sight of you murderous glare, "--and keeping me company is... nice."

"...'Nice'." The word feels funny to your ears as you hear it, and even funnier when you speak it.

"Yes, nice." His feet swing a little, his head hanging a little sheepishly. "My friends are cool and all, but you're, like, really fun to piss off." Okay, you might actually end up killing him. "And we don't really hang out all that often during the holidays. Plus, you've got a different vibe to you that I think is... nice--" There's that fucking word again, how on earth did he get higher marks than you in English? "--and my parents work a lot regardless so having you as company is, I suppose, ni--"

"Get a grip, dude." Your eyes roll by themselves. "You're rambling."

His lips pout and his cheeks puff to make a ridiculous (yet adorable) face of a child being lightly scolded for no reason. "You said Truce."

"I'm hearing you out, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you're still being mean."

"Boo-hoo." He look up at you and his narrowed eyes make you retract your statement. "I mean, sorry. Carry on."

"That's it."

"What's 'it'?"

"The thing I wanted to tell you."

"What thing?"

"You know...the thing."

"You spewed a lot of crap in that short frame of time, I truly have no idea what you're talking about."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed once more, this time in suspicion. "You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't." It's pitiful to say that your face is losing the battle to keep your smile away, which ultimately makes him gasp and point accusingly towards you.

"Yes, you do, you egg."

"Going for the Shakespearean insults? Wow, I must've really ticked you off," you laugh.

Lucky for you, the nearest thing to him was an almost-finished kitchen roll, otherwise he would've landed you in A&E too from his well-aimed throw to your forearm.

"I'm trying to be sincere." His voice is at that whiney pitch he uses when he's frustrated but not enough to care about it. He tends to only use it around his friends, but the more hellish (a potential exaggeration) time you spend with each other, the easier it slips out of him.

"Stop saying 'nice' like someone's pulling it out of your arse and not in a fun way."

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?! That I think your wonderful and funny and interesting and I like it when we spend time together!"

You try not to let the admission show up in your expression, not when it's making your heart race a mile a minute. "I mean, yeah. Don't stop on my account, keep telling me how you think I'm the most amazing person on the planet and you worship the ground I walk on, please."

He rolls his eyes and smiles in that adorable shy why which tells you that he knows exactly what you're trying to do and appreciates the way you relieve the tension. "Jesus, even when you take the piss out of me you still say 'please' in a way that makes me want to..." he trails off, then sighs. "Nevermind, ignore me."

Oh no, you're not going to let it go that easily. "Hard to do when your pig-headed ego takes up half the room." You take your gloves off--making a mental note to burn them in the incinerator for all they've had to deal with today (it's a mercy, really)--and turn towards him to give your full undivided attention. As if that would make it any easier for him to speak. "Go on, please."

He rolls his eyes again, trying even harder to hide his smile but it's fails just as easily. "Stop it."

"Stop what? Could you tell me, please?" Your head cocks to the side and your eyes challenge him in a teasing sort of way.

"God fucking damnit, Y/N. I don't know how I'm going to survive uni with you," he laughs, but the way he looks back at you feels a little too fond.

It takes a second to process what he just said. "Um, what?"

"What?"

"You said... wait, are we going to the same uni?!"

"Um, yeah? We got into the same uni."

Shock takes ever your expression for a moment. "You remember which uni I applied to?"

He looks at you incredulously. "Yeah, of course I remember. And don't be so damn humble about your exam results, I know for a fact we're both getting in."

You take a second to find a response in your head, which seems momentarily empty except for that one phrase 'of course I remember.' "Well, that's beside the point." Jungkook raises a brow at you, not buying it but willing to shelf the matter for now. "What did you mean by all that earlier?"

He looks down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I have no idea what you mean."

"No no, you can't get out of it that easily."

"I think I can."

You take a few steps to his side and try to perch yourself up on the side of the counter next to him. He doesn't say anything as he helps you up with his good hand wrapped around your waist--and neither do you in case the combustion of heat in your body will expel flames out of your mouth the second you open it, right for your rival to see. "You're infuriating, you know that right?"

"Really? Haven't heard you say it before."

"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own.

"Never. I know how much you love my snark, even if you don't admit it," he grins in return, looking at you in a way that makes your insides turn and twist. God you didn't think you could hate his stupid face even more than you do now (or something like that).

Then there comes a moment where everything went still. You think it's slightly unfair that this boy is able to bend people to his will with his looks and charm, and now apparently he can bend time too. Okay, maybe in this instance it doesn't feel as bad because you strangely don't mind having time suspended when he's there with you.

Those brown eyes flicker down to your lips so quickly you wouldn't have caught it had you not been intently gazing at him too. Rushes of heat fill every inch of your body, and to be honest, you don't know how to respond to it.

Times like these are few between you two, mostly because most of your interactions happen where there's a number of people around. But when it's just the two of you...

It feels slightly dangerous, but in a warm, comforting way that's so addictive you get a little scared of how much you don't want it to end. And also how his lips don't look as repulsive to press your own again as much as they usually do.

Damn him and his witchery.

"Anything else you want me to do?"

He raises a brow. "I want you to do a lot of things, you're gonna have to be more specific."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I mean, any cleaning up you needed me to do for your unhygienic brother?"

"Ah... no. The dishes were the main thing."

"Okay..." Silence stretches around the two of you until you find enough boldness within you to break it. "What were the other things?"

"What other things?"

"That you wanted me to do."

"Uh, I think you might fracture my balls too if I said them."

"Coward."

The corner of his lips curve. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

"Wow, I didn't think you knew it existed since you tend to cross it a lot."

"Har har," he deadpans, making you smile.

Your hands run over your thighs, a nervous tick you have that you have no doubt he's clocked onto by the way his good hand reaches out to squeeze one of them gently. Your hand, that is, though a corner of your traitorous mind that's steadily becoming louder over the past couple of weeks the longer you spend time with him thinks that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was your thigh instead. It's certainly big enough and you've seen the way he handles modelling clay for his art homework. There's no doubt he'd be able to relieve the tension of the muscles there. Or anywhere else--ah, no. Nope. Absolutely not.

"Sometimes I kinda kick myself for doing this deal with you." At your quizzical look, he clears his throat. "Makes it harder to ignore you when you're right with me for a good chunk of the day."

"You couldn't ignore me even if you tried."

He snorts. "Tired and proven."

Your brows scrunch, though your heart still beats against your chest. "What, really? You've tried to ignore me? Damn. Here I was hoping it would've worked out."

"Oh, I tried a few years ago, I think? Closer to when we first met. But unfortunately, you're hard to ignore."

Mockingly, you straighten you back and lift your head up. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all."

His smile is a bit weaker this time. "Yeah... Practically impossible to keep my mind off you."

Silence flows once more for a moment or two and you realise his hands is still wrapped around yours. "You know I tried too...in the beginning. Unfortunately, that didn't last long either."

His brow quicks. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all?"

"The opposite, actually. You were too dumb and ugly not to. Out of pity, really." From your teasing expression, he knows that he was right.

"Riiiiight, 'pity'. We'll go for that blatant lie if you want to save face."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"I think you do."

"I think I don't."

You don't realise until now how close your faces have gotten, able to feel the soft gentle breaths against your lips from his. It feels so difficult to maintain the distance but even more so to move closer to further.

"When you asked me what I meant by all that... ask me again."

"What?"

"Ask me what I meant by everything I said before."

You've been sensing this coming for a while now, longer than whatever time you've spent together in his brother's now-clean kitchen (thanks to you). Like the sky is falling, but you can't seem to look away from it.

"What did you mean?"

Jungkook's tongue peeks out to run along his bottom lip. "I meant that I... I think you're amazing, potentially out of my league--"

"--definitely out of your league--" Definitely what you would consider a lie because look at him and his social skills and his grades and passion and whatnot.

"--and so damn sweet and kind."

"Did you not just hear me call myself out of your league? Or pay attention to most of our conversations in general."

He sends a questioning look to you, as if he can see through your bullshit. "I think we both know you don't think that--for some stupid reason, because you actually are out of my league."

"Don't be humble, it doesn't suit you."

"I'm not. Just truthful. And the truth is, I find it hard to be around you and not fall for you. I see the person you are when you let your guard down with people you care about and how annoyingly well you follow that moral compass of yours even if you use fancy mean words to distract everyone else."

You snort. "If only you heard my thoughts about you while I was doing the dishes. Maiming was not off the list."

He tried to bite back a laugh. "Given the condition of those dishes, I would give you a free pass for homicide."

"Good thing your teen boy-genes haven't totally overtaken your common sense of hygiene."

"I think we can both agree we're growing out of the 'teen' bit of our lives."

"Nope," you deny quickly, waving your hand out as if to undo what he just said. "I'd like to stick my head in the sand and forget about how quickly life is moving into adulthood until it hits me like a train--"

"--or a clown--"

"--thank you very much," you end tightly, sending him a light-hearted glare.

"As I was saying," he continues, amusement lighting up his face, "it's hard not to want to kiss you at times."

"Even when I'm mouthing off to you?"

"Especially when you're mouthing off."

Even though you were expecting it, it takes a minute to process. "Oh."

"Yes, 'ohhhhh'," he mocks, nudging you with a teasing smirk.

"That must've been annoying in class then."

"Very," he nods solemnly. "There were times I wanted to throw caution to the wind and traumatise everyone."

"From the shit some of my friends say, I don't think people would be that shocked if you'd kiss me."

"Huh, maybe you're not as airheaded as you make yourself out to be."

"Rude," you mumble. "I pay attention. I just tend to...second guess."

"I think my feelings for you were a bit obvious. I mean, I think I could've survived without having you be at my beck and call this summer but I said yes anyway."

"Manipulative bastard."

"Anything for you," he sends a cheesy grin your way, making you laugh at the sudden and very inconvenient butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

"'Anything'?"

"Okay, from that tone, I can tell you're imagining something horrifying so let me change that to 'anything within reason'."

"Coward."

"You are slightly terrifying."

"Why, thank you," you smile, and he smiles too with that buttery warm look of fondness again before he leans in slowly, giving you enough time to move away. But when you don't, he pressed his lips against yours and fucking hell it's the softest thing you've ever felt.

You don't know how long it takes for the kiss to break but even breathless you still miss the warm softness against your mouth. And apparently he felt the same because it takes very little time for him to capture your lips again, untangling his hand from yours to cup the side of your jaw, keeping you in place--not like it was possible for you to leave his addictive taste anyway, it might take dark magic for that to happen.

Maybe something even more potent, when his tongue slips its way past your lips and you find that he's stolen every single thought that occupied your mind. Again, time slips away until you're lungs are burning from the lack of air and you both pull away--though not too far from one another.

"So," he says breathless.

"So," you repeat in the same manner, mind still a little fuzzy.

"That was... something."

"Good something or bad something?"

"I don't think 'good' is a strong enough word I want to use." You hum in agreement, and reluctantly pull a little further away, his hand dropping back down onto yours. He looks at you curiously. "So..."

"So..."

"Would I be too soon if I asked you to take pity on a poor simp like me and be mine?"

"Hmmm," you hum in thought. "Given your performance, I'm inclined to accept."

"I can upgrade you from being my reluctant servant to my reluctant lover." He wiggles his borrows and you groan.

"With a romantic declaration like that, I find it hard not to accept," you deadpan, before sighing and leaning against his shoulder. You want to bottle up that sound up and listen to it until you get sick of it--which you have a sneaking suspicion is about as likely as the sun imploding in your lifetime.

"Would you let me continue to wreak havoc on your life?"

"Naturally."

"Then yes. I accept." He raises a brow expectantly and you clock on to what he's waiting for. "I'm not saying it."

"Say it."

"No."

"Please?"

"I take back my answer."

"No backsies."

"What, are you five years old or something?"

"Just say it! Say you'll be my lover."

"If you manage to make this relationship last for 50 years, then I will."

He huffs, leaning his head on top of yours, fingers linking with yours. "I suppose I can agree with that. I'll keep a note of it in my calendar."

"How unusually organised of you."

"Like I said, I'd do anything for you."

"Within reason, of course."

"Of course. Doesn't need to be logical reason, just reason."

"Good to know. Now, let's get out of your brother's place. I feel all the germs crawling all over me and need an extra hot shower--maybe two--to feel even remotely clean after that ordeal."

He laughs as he pressed a kiss on top of your head. "Yeah, okay, we can do that. Though I hoped you reminded me before I kissed you."

"You just did again after I told you, dumbass."

"In my defence, I did tell you it was hard not to. If I die of some unknown disease, I blame on you." You roll your eyes with a smile as the two of you hop off the counter and make your way out, hands still clasped together.

#if you're not threatening bodily harm. is it really rivalry banter?#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #fluff #academic rivals to lovers #rival!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #junkook #jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook oneshot

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updownlately · 1 year ago

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how do i hold these emotions (when you spin my world out of place?)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 3.9k | inspo: butterflies by abe parker | a/n: so this has been sitting in the ask box for nearly a month. initially i didn't get to it bc of school and then bc i struggled to think of what to write. i'm not really happy with how this turned out tbh but i want to at least get something out in regards to this one, lest i stretch it out another month, so here ya go...

~~~

You hadn’t meant to hurt her. You really hadn’t. Everything had happened so quickly. One second you were intently watching the ball get kicked around during five-a-side and the next you were diving to make a save, unaware of the blonde running in behind the ball.

In your urgency to secure the ball, you hadn’t actively paid attention to your arms stretching out, nor the way the white cleats got caught between your outstretched limbs, you managing to gather more than just the ball.

It was only when the blood rushing from your ears disappeared, when the slight jolt of adrenaline wore off, that you realized the tangled mess of limbs that lay behind you.

Pausing, you immediately furrowed your eyebrows. Players weren’t supposed to be where she was. Players weren’t supposed to be behind the keeper.

Eyes widening in realization, you dropped the ball and quickly stood up in a panic.

“Oh my god, I’m so s-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The sharp voice cut through your sentence, the anger behind it nearly pushing you a step back.

“I-I’m sorry. I swear. It was an accident.” Your voice quieter this time, the fear evident. The midfielder was on the ground, almost curled up in fetal position, hands clutching her ankle.

By now the whole team was nearly surrounding you two, Lia and Steph crossing you to be by Leah’s side.

“An accident is when you miss the ball, not when you fucking take out your own teammate during a damn practice,” Leah practically growled out, her eyes still not meeting yours.

“Leah, breathe. She was just doing her job, it was an accident.”

You looked over at Steph, a grateful look appearing on your face for a brief second before promptly turning your attention back to Leah.

“Her job is to stop the ball, not injure a teammate. If she can’t do that then she should find another job.”

You swallowed hard at her tone, the words hitting you hard. You knew being signed by Arsenal, even as a backup keeper wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, you had expected it to be gruelling and tiresome. But you didn’t expect this. You didn’t think you’d manage to turn one of the club’s key players against you on one of your first few practices with them.

Leah didn’t even turn to look at you, her back being the only thing visible as she let the other two players and the oncoming medical staff examine her speaking volumes to you.

The way the ever-supportive, always-understanding skipper couldn’t even look you in the eye hurt you more than words could say.

Body slumping, your shoulders caved in and you quietly stepped back, letting your head hang low. Mentally berating yourself, you cursed at your mind for reacting so quickly, for not looking at where you were diving, towards who you were diving.

Part of you knew it was your job, that this was part of the game, that technically it wasn’t your fault. Yet, the people pleaser inside couldn’t help but agree with Leah. It was stupid of you to have saved that ball. After all, it was just a practice, right? You could have most definitely gotten away with just letting her score, but you didn’t. And where did that leave you? With a future Arsenal legend cursing you out while they likely had another injury, no thanks to you.

Just as your thoughts began spiralling towards what Jonas might be thinking about only just acquiring you and you already injuring one of his key players, you felt a gentle hand come to rest upon your shoulders.

Body jolting, you whipped your head around, tense muscles only slightly relaxing when you saw who the hand was attached to. Stina.

You let her gently tug you towards her, walking backwards, eyes still downcast.

“Ignore her okay? She’s just running high on emotions, she doesn’t mean it.” The quiet words whispered in your ear don’t have the desired effect however, the weight of your actions sinking into your thoughts.

You shrug in response, taking off your gloves to wipe your sweaty palms on the side of your shorts.

Bending down to tuck the gloves between your knees, your lips mumbled out a quick prayer to a God you didn’t believe in enough. You prayed, hoped, begged that whatever you had done wasn’t major. After all, the blonde had only recently come back from injury.

Inhaling deeply, you rose again, unaware of Stina’s eyes on you. You intently watched as the staff tested out Leah’s legs and ankle, holding your breath when one of them gently pressed their fingers around her ankle, turning it slightly. Your eyes immediately flickered over to Leah’s face, eyebrows furrowed, concentrating, trying to gauge the potential severity of the collision.

It was only when the striker grabbed your arm for a second time that you broke from your staring. “C’mon, it’s a water break. Let them do their thing, she’ll be fine.” Your head swivelled at her comments, finally taking note of how empty the field around you was, save for the ongoing situation. Shooting one last concerned look over at the gunner trio by the goalposts, you trailed behind the Swedish player.

Throughout the water break, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift over to Leah and the medical staff. Even as Katie and Kim tried to distract you with conversation, your mind wandered. You wondered how Jonas was feeling about this whole situation. It had only been a little over a month since Leah had come back from her ankle injury, a slew of lesions across the years causing a tense relationship between the midfielder and her crucial joints. And now you had potentially caused another one. You despised the thought of you being the reason she would be out again, for more reasons than one.

Your worries however, rang true, attention being stolen from the girls in front of you and finding its way to the oncoming stampede of footsteps from the pitch.

Wincing, you turned around, ready to assess just how badly you fucked up.

Unfortunately for you, the sight ahead of you had your heart silently breaking in two, partially in worry for yourself, but more so in pain for the blonde that was limping across the grounds.

You could sense the tension in the group walking towards the locker room. Leah was hobbling on one foot, using Lia as a crutch while Steph walked beside the pair, defeat clear in her body. The medical staff themselves were quietly conversing with one another, discussing something you couldn’t quite make out.

Deciding to take a chance, you opened your mouth to apologize as the blonde passed you, another ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue. However, before you could even get any semblance of a sound out, Leah interrupted you, steel blue eyes connecting with yours for the first time since the encounter.

“Save it. You’ve already done enough.” The irritation didn’t surprise you, after all, you didn’t expect her to be your biggest fan right now. Still, the contempt in her voice had you in shock, heart aching at what you had done and where it had left you.

Eyes staying wide, body frozen to where you stood, you closed your mouth.

It was only as Leah walked away from you that you let yourself move, immediately bringing your hands to run through your hair in frustration, before bringing them over your face in a failed attempt to rid yourself of the guilt that plagued you.

Fuck.

~~~

A week had passed since the collision, the injury turning out to be nothing more than a somewhat minor ankle sprain, only looking to keep the defender out for a little less than three weeks.

In the days that had gone by thus far though, you did your best to avoid Leah, still nervous at the blonde’s initial reaction and her icy demeanour towards you.

You wanted to chalk up her disdain for you to just the unfortunate event and forget about it, but since the incident, each time that you passed her around the training grounds, she seemed to avoid you, ignoring your existence completely. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

You had looked up to the defender throughout your own career, marvelling at her determination and dedication even though you were only a few months younger than her. To have her nearly pretend you don’t exist whilst on the same team burned you more than you’d like to admit.

Knowing you had to be mature however, you pretended to be fine every time you saw Leah conversing with another teammate near you. You ignored the tug in your heart when she’d greet the rest of the team, her lips magically skipping your name, as you all filed into the weight room. You told the team it was fine when they confronted you about it, even going as far as telling Kim that you didn’t take it to heart, that you understood why she was upset.

Well aware that you didn’t deserve this treatment, you still let it slide, not wanting to cause any more problems.

You didn’t let it show to the team but now you were slightly more cautious in practices, letting more goals rocket past you, too afraid of diving too close to a teammate. It was a dangerous game you were playing, nearly putting your career on line, but you couldn’t care about that right now as much as you wanted to. Ensuring you didn’t injure any more teammates was your top priority, lest you somehow manage to turn the whole Arsenal women’s team against you after injuring yet another player.

So as practices passed, you gave your 100% during any distance shooting drills, diving left, right, and centre as needed. You did what you had to, knowing there was no one near you. But when it came to close range shooting, five-a-side, or any other drills you dialled it down. You tried to be subtle with your lessening actions but you knew that the training staff could tell. And you were proven right.

Training had just ended for the day, the cold January breeze making you shiver as you walked across the pitch. You had only made it half way over before you heard your name being called, Jonas’ booming voice carrying through the wind easily.

Turning around, you walked to him, confusion etched on your face, dread running cold in your bones.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried to sound nonchalant. You’re pretty sure you failed.

“You’re holding back during practices, don’t think I can’t tell.”

“What do you mean?” You feigned innocence.

“Don’t. Listen, we brought you here for a reason, what happened with Leah was a freak accident, it wasn’t intentional and we all know that.

Your body stiffened, swallowing audibly, aware that you just got caught.

“I don’t care what whoever tells you. You came in here with a job to do and you were doing it well. I’d like to hope that it continues as such.” Jonas ends the conversation, leaving no room for discussion. You can only nod in response, turning around to head to the locker rooms.

Stuck in your own musings, contemplating on your choices, you don’t see LW squared headed your way, Leah finally off the crutches she’s been using for the past week and a half.

It’s when you almost crash into them, cleats just barely appearing in your field of vision ,that you realize your predicament. Quickly throwing yourself to the side, you just barely manage to avoid hitting Leah again.

“Do you make a habit of injuring all the national captains or just the English ones?” Leah grumbled into the air, the quip no doubt directed to you even as she looked straight ahead.

“S-Sorry.” You squeaked out, picking up your pace and heading in the opposite direction.

You knew she didn’t like you. And you knew you had to make amends with it. What you couldn’t figure out yet is whether you rather have her ignore your existence or acknowledge it with her dislike for you on display.

You didn’t know it as you walked away, but the second you’re were out of earshot, Lia confronted Leah, understanding just how terrible of a position you were in right now.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to her right?”

“It wouldn’t kill her to not injure me, especially not after I just came back from an ankle injury,” Leah muttered in response.

“Listen, she’s already been beating herself up for it ever since it happened. You need to cut her some slack.”

“But-“

“No buts. Leah she’s been too afraid to even dive during close practices now. The only time she’s actively being a goalkeeper is during long distance shooting, and we both know that’s not going to do us any good and it definitely won’t do her any good.”

Pouting, it was Leah’s turn to look at her cleats, mind wandering.

“I wasn’t that rude to her was I?” “You’ve been ignoring her for two weeks! She’s only been here for three!”

Silently groaning, the blonde continued walking.

“Leah…”

“Yes mum?”

“Fix it.”

“Yes m-“ “And stop calling me mum, you child.”

“Yes mother.” A gentle smack hit the back of the skipper’s head before the Swiss captain took off running onto the pitch.

“Oi!”

~~~

You thought being a backup keeper for a club like Arsenal, who already had a great goalie meant that playing time for you wasn’t going to be crazy. You believed it. Nearly confidently knew it. So when Jonas told you that they were resting Manu for the game against Leeds, your anxiety spiked through the roof. After all, it had only been a little over three weeks that you had been with the club, two of them spent with a star player of theirs injured because of you.

Aware that with the team you had the game would be easy, even if it was the fourth round of the FA cup, you weren’t worried about the Gunner’s ability to score and win. The thought of starting while being a backup goalie however, of wanting to maintain a clean sheet on your first game, intimidated you.

When you had initially got the news, two days before the game was supposed to be held, you immediately started to prepare.

After Jonas had pulled you aside, you had gone off and begged one of the trainers to stay back and shoot at you, setting you up in tough positions and sending in shots from all sorts of angles. Spending an extra two hours on pitch that day, you tirelessly saved shot after shot, working on your release, your control of back passes, and your dropkicks, wanting to perform your best. It was only when the trainer called it a day that you agreed to go home and rest.

You spent match day minus one reviewing game footage, nervousness still rolling through your body. You had studied Leed’s strikers’ shot tendencies, taking note of how the starting XI liked to attack, but still, the weight of what this game meant for you, for your career, sat on your shoulder with a heavy weight no matter how much you prepped.

Arriving to the Meadow Park the day of the game, headphones blasting music, you tried to quell the butterflies in your stomach, tried to ease the tension in your jaw, but it was to no avail.

Even throughout Jonas’ locker room speech and announcement of the starting lineup, your leg bounced fervently. It was only when warm-ups started that you finally started feeling a bit calmer, the familiar feeling of being on the pitch shushing the roar of voices in your head.

However, when the team huddled up right before the game started, you could feel the nerves crawl up your spine again. It was only when you felt a hand rest on your arm did your thoughts finally branch off from the game, eyebrows furrowing as you traced the limb to its owner, Leah.

Eyes widening, you looked down at your feet, checking to see if you were maybe stepping on her foot or accidentally crowding her. Noting that you weren’t in fact injuring her in any way, you stepped back, mind reeling at the fact that Leah, the Leah that you injured not so long ago, and then almost hurt again, was willingly standing next to you right now, your arm in her grasp.

Sliding up next beside you, Leah turned to face you, your eyes meeting blue ones for the first time since the injury.

Taking a sharp inhale, you let your head fall slightly, body deflating. You really weren’t in the mood to be reminded of how you injured the girl, not with the way you were feeling right now.

Leah sighed at your timid demeanour, Lia’s words from a week ago still whispers in her head.

She knew you had been nervous all day, very likely due to the fact that you were starting today. With the way she treated you thus far, she thought maybe she could try and help make you feel a bit more confident but clearly with the way you almost collapsed in on yourself in her presence convinced her otherwise.

Still, it was worth a shot.

“Listen, I know we haven’t started off on the greatest footing, but just know that I’m rooting for you today…we all are. You’ve got this. You weren’t starting keeper for the Red Stars for no reason, you earned it there, and you’re gonna do that again here. Don’t let the voices in your head convince you otherwise.”

The quiet words from the blonde had you frozen in your spot, the gentleness and concern catching you off guard. The words somehow managed to ease your anxiousness ever so slightly however, the weight on your shoulders easing just ever so slightly.

Nodding, you whispered out a meek thanks, eyes meeting hers to show your appreciation.

Splitting from the rest of the team, you made your way to the goal, throwing your water bottle to the side and taking position. Stretching your neck, you let Leah’s words play in your mind, shoulders loosening up, chest puffing up in confidence.

Throughout the game, you were hyper focused, eyes tracing the ball, following its path even whilst it was wholly across the field from you. Active at every chance you needed to be, you were agile, running to aid in back passes, being aware of a few shots taken your way, ones that you caught with ease.

By half time, your confidence in yourself was off the charts, proud of your performance and for keeping a clean sheet thus far. It also helped that the team had a comfortable 3-0 lead, thanks to Foord, Kühl, and Kim.

Making your way across the field behind the rest of your team, you saw Leah staying back, her gaze on you. As you approached, she fell into step with you.

“You did great you know? Clean sheet so far and you made a handful of key saves! Especially the one shot where you somehow managed to punch the ball just wide.” You couldn’t stop the smile that took over your face at her words, posture straightening in pride.

“You really think so?” “Yeah. You did great. You’re not a half-bad keeper y’know…”

Walking the last little bit in silence, you internally celebrated at Leah’s words, glad that she wasn’t upset at you any more.

~~~

As the final whistle blew, the three sharp tweets ringing throughout the pitch, you let yourself sigh in relief, all the tension leaving your body in seconds.

A content grin on your face, you grabbed your water and started making your way to the rest of the team.

A string of claps on the back and acknowledgements from your teammates on your performance as you joined the group had you smiling, the clean sheet and nine goals scored no doubt bringing a sense of achievement to everyone. You let yourself be roughhoused by Katie, the Irish woman loudly expressing her joy and tackling you with a muffled “good game rook!” as you listened to Jonas talk. As he finished up his overview of the game, you could feel his sights rest on you, your head tilting, curious at what was going on.

“And just before I let you guys go and change, I just want to shoutout our keeper’s efforts today. From being told that she would be playing in her first game only two days ago, she’s done fantastic, keeping a clean sheet and being ready at any given point to help our defence out. I know the past few weeks have been hard to you, with the new environment and team to get used to, but you absolutely killed it and we’re all proud of you.” Directing the last few sentences to you, you looked at your feet in nervousness, overwhelmed by the support you were receiving.

“Couldn’t have done it without you guys…thank you all, seriously,” you replied back, head raising to make eye contact with all of the gunners around you.

And as Jonas finally let you go, you let yourself take in the moment one more time, aware that while this game would be minor in the long run, it now held a special place in your heart, bringing on beginnings only you knew.

Getting jostled out of your thoughts however, you found the English captain at your side once again.

“How you feeling?”

“Happy I think? It feels nice to be here right now.”

“Just right now?” Leah questioned, an inkling in her mind at the choice of your words, one that became concrete as you shrugged in response to her question.

“Hey listen, I’m sorry for being mean earlier. You didn’t deserve it and I had no right to be an asshole to you when it could have happened to anybody.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for injuring you right after you had just returned from another injury.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for that. Accident’s happen, it was just an unfortunate series of events.” “Still-”

“I’ll go back to being rude to you y’know? If you keep apologizing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sighed in defeat.

“New slate?” You stuck out your hand, awaiting a handshake.

“New slate,” Leah agreed, her own meeting yours, three shakes between you two.

Letting go, you felt as the Leah’s arm come to rest over your shoulders, and for the first time, you held your head up high, delighted that you could stand beside her without fear. Basking in the moment, you let yourself be pulled into her side hug, cheeks hurting from smiling so much and a heart that was finally content for the first time since you joined the club.

You hadn’t meant to hurt her and you were glad she knew it. With your guys’ budding friendship now growing, you wondered what the future would hold, happy to be here, beside her, a seed of hope in your heart.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #angst #my writing #fic req #fic #not proofread im sorry #started off strong and then idk where it went...#hdihte

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