the-other-bookworm

[the-other-bookworm]

Drunken Protection (Dean W.)

Summary: When you get hit on by a random guy in a bar, Dean almost loses all control of himself.

WC: 557

Warnings: angst, protective!dean, some sexual harassment

A/N: had this sitting in my drafts since June of last year. I've read it so many times, wanting to delete it because I feel like it's shitty (that's what happens when you constantly read your own works LOL) but hopefully someone on here or ao3 will enjoy it <3

Read on ao3!

You didn’t mean to get separated from Dean. One second, you were grabbing drinks. Next, some smug new hunter who called himself Jake had cornered you by the jukebox, clearly confusing your polite small talk for permission to do whatever he wanted with you.

His hand settled on your waist, fingertips gripping your body. “Come on, sweetheart. One dance,” he slurred, leaning too close to your ear so you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I’ve seen the way you look at me across the bar, baby. Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

Your entire body tensed. You stepped back, jaw tightening. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

Jake’s grin didn’t falter. His hand grabbed yours—not rough, but insistent.

“You’re playing hard to get, I get it. It’s cute.”

Then his hand slid lower.

And that’s when you heard his voice behind you. Low. Cold. Dangerous.

“Let go of her.”

Jake froze.

You turned, breath catching.

Dean stood a few feet away, utterly still, radiating fury. His shoulders were squared, fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes—God, his eyes. They were burning green fire, locked on Jake like a predator who’d just spotted his kill.

Jake scoffed, releasing your wrist, but not backing down. “Didn’t know she had a babysitter.”

Dean took a step forward.

“You got one more second to walk away,” he said, voice barely more than a growl. “After that, I stop being polite.”

Jake held his ground. Stupidly.

“What, you think she’s yours?” he spat. “She’s not wearing a ring. She didn’t say no.”

Dean’s mouth twitched—not in a smile.

“You think I give a damn about a ring?” he muttered, stepping in closer. “She pulled away. You didn’t stop. And now you’re trying to act like you’re not about to eat your own teeth.”

His voice dropped into something lethal. “She’s mine. You put your hands on her again, and I’ll make sure you don’t get to use them anymore.”

Jake laughed nervously, but the edges of it cracked when Dean took another step.

You caught his arm.

“Dean.”

He didn’t look at you. His whole body was coiled, like a wire stretched to its snapping point. You felt the rage vibrating off of him, held back by sheer will alone.

You touched his chest, palm flat over his heart. “He’s not worth it.”

His jaw clenched. “You are,” he bit out. “You’re worth every broken bone I’d give that piece of shit.”

“Dean.” This time, your voice was soft. Gentle.

Slowly, finally, his eyes met yours. And something in him… eased. Just slightly. He took a breath—deep, shaky—and looked back at Jake with one last, venomous glare.

“Get the hell outta my sight,” he snapped.

Jake left fast.

Dean didn’t move for a long second. Then his hand came up to cradle your cheek, rough thumb brushing just under your eye. “You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse now. Cracked open.

You nodded, leaning into him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He laughed once. Bitter. “Yeah. Me too.”

You rested your forehead against his. “Thank you.”

He exhaled slow. “Don’t thank me. Just don’t ever think you’re alone. Not while I’m breathing.”

And you believed him. Because you’d seen what he almost became… And what he chose not to, just for you.

[the-other-bookworm]

Yayyy! Mick so deserves more love, honestly his character is so good, he's just m'wah 🥰

do you mind if I ask for mick angst s1, like something to do with the whole chronos thing. I'm not really sure about plot maybe reader is snarts sister. when chronos!mick captures and threatens len by saying he'll kill Lisa he mentions something about how he'd kill y/n too but he can't find her. And len says the reason he can't find her is cuz she left the ship to try and find mick when len 'got rid of him'. And later when the team have mick imprisoned on the ship they find y/n and don't trust her not to free mick so they put her in the cell with mick. Mick asks why she spent so long looking for him and left the team to find him and then she confesses that she loves him and that the only reason she agreed to join the team was to keep an eye on mick and leonard?

I'm not super great at coming up with plots lol so really just any chronos mick and snart!reader angst would be great ♡♡♡♡♡

(The angst potential micks character has is astronomical I don't understand how there isn't more mick angst on tumblr!)

a/n: hi! thank you so much for this request, I love writing for the legends!! I tried my best to follow the prompt but it might've gone off the rails at some point lol (also I agree, he has so much potential!! I hope to write more for him in the future!! word count: 1.2k

Safe and Sound

You sat in the corner of the cell, arms crossed as you stared at the man across from you. Mick deliberately kept his gaze away from you, your icy stare unnerving him. Your foot tapped against the floor, the metal against your boot echoing throughout the still air. He fidgeted his shoulder, a nervous tick you had observed over the years, indicating he was uncomfortable or even nervous. He felt the stillness in the air as a noose whereas you thrived in it, turning it in your favor. You leaned forward, bracing your arms on your knees as you cocked your head to the side. Finally, Mick broke, turning his head towards you, eyes wide in his signature angry expression.

"What?"

His voice was rough but you heard the undertone, the quiver in his words. You shook your head in response, leaning back against the glass, moving your eyes up to the ceiling, making direct eye contact with the not-so-hidden security camera. Wiggling your fingers in hello, you smirked a bit.

"You know why you're here?"

Mick's question was hesitant, like he was annoyed in the fact that he didn't know. You nodded, pursing your lips as you examined your hand. After a bit, you once more returned your stare to the fire-tinged man.

"They don't trust me. Looks like we got that in common."

Mick scoffed, shaking his head.

"Come on. Don't give me that bullshit. You probably have them wrapped around your finger, especially your brother."

You smirked, shrugging your shoulders.

"Of course I do. That's why we're not dead yet. You forget not everyone aboard the ship is a hero."

Mick turns his head to you, raising a singular eyebrow. He sighed in defeat, shaking his head.

"Alright, Y/N. Why don't they trust you?"

"Because they think I'll let you out, so," you raised your arms, "here I am."

Mick looked like he was about to respond but the door to the brig opened, revealing your older brother.

"Lenny!"

You waved at your brother, not making to stand up.

"Y/N...Mick," Len's eyes barely left yours to acknowledge Mick, "Just checking up on you."

You scoffed, zero malice in your tone.

"You mean you were sent on damage control duty. Don't worry, brother, we're both in one piece."

Len's eyes strayed over to Mick where they hardened with pain and apologies. He nodded stiffly before walking out of the brig without another word, very out of character for him you noted. It stayed silent before you felt Mick’s eyes on you. Stubbornly, you kept your eyes on the entrance of the brig. You had been in the cell for what felt like forever, why would he only want to talk now? 

“I threatened Lisa.” 

His rough words and tone made you stiffen before you forced yourself to relax, turning your head to face Mick, one eyebrow raised. Mick seemed to wait for your response before realizing you weren’t going to answer. Letting out a small growl of anger, he continued. 

“I threatened you as well, Y/N. But unlike Lisa, you were nowhere to be found.” 

You heard the hidden question in his words. Where were you? 

Gritting your teeth, you position your body away from the assassin, the atmosphere of the room no longer giving you comfort. You no longer had the high ground, with one question, you no longer held the power. 

“Y/N.”

Just your name.

That’s all it took. 

“I was looking for you. I didn’t believe Len when he said he took care of it, didn’t believe the team when they said you were dead. I was trying to get you back.” 

To your horror, your voice started to waiver towards the end of your words, breaking your composure. You were sure Mick noticed your weakness and you braced yourself for the taunting words of Chronos. But when you built up enough courage to finally look Mick in the eyes, all you saw was him. No Chronos, no time lords, no manipulation. Just the man who protected you for as long as you could remember, the man who had buried himself so deep in your heart you knew no one would ever take his place. 

“Why would you leave?” 

Before you could reply, he continued. 

“Why would you care so much to leave your family?”

At that you broke, allowing your emotions to show on your face.

“You are my family, Mick. I love the team, I really do but I lo-”

You stopped before you could let the words finish, Mick’s gaze becoming intense as his mind filled in the words where you stopped. Clearing your throat, you steadied yourself and then continued.

“We all promised each other we would stick together. I don’t break promises, you know that.”

The air was thick with tension and unanswered questions as you continued to feel Mick’s eyes boring into you. Scoffing, you waved your hands in the air, as if you could swat away your words like you would a fly. 

“Anyways, I think we-”

“What were you going to say?” 

Mick’s voice once again made you pause. You chuckled nervously, another weakness you internally scolded yourself for. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mick.”

Mick scoffed. You heard him stand up to walk the few steps to stand in front of you. You felt your heart beating so loud that it was the only thing you could hear. You slowly raised your head to look up at Mick, his eyes full of confusion. That surprised you. He knelt so that he was eye level, not letting you look away. 

“I-,” you swallowed, steadying yourself, “I was saying that I lo- oh, shit, am I really doing this?” You whispered to yourself as you put your head in your hands.

“I love you, Mick. That’s what I was going to say.”

The silence was loud as it stretched between you. When you finally worked up the nerve to remove your hands from your head, Mick’s eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite determine, while also shining with a dimmed hope. 

“Why?” 

His question rattled you to your core. Which was evident in how you started sputtering. 

“What? What do you mean why? Mick, you’re amazing! Do you not know that?” 

The look in his eyes answered that question. 

“Oh come on,” you whispered under your breathe, deeply disturbed by the thought of Mick not knowing how incredible he is, “Mick, you’ve been through things that would make most people insane, you’re always there to be a support, no matter how hard you try to hide it, you genuinely care. That’s something that’s so beautiful about you. You give your all to your relationships, so much so that it burns you. I’m constantly amazed by you and if anyone has told you otherwise then-” 

You were interrupted by Mick pulling you into his arms, hiding his face into the crook of your neck. The only coherent thought in your mind throughout the internal screaming was how out of place this felt. That Mick was willing to drop his guard down to show his affection and gratefulness towards you. With tears in your eyes you returned the hug, knowing that while you and Mick had a long way to go, this was an incredible start.

a/n: i am so sorry for how rushed the ending is! i hope this was semi-ok

[the-other-bookworm]

Mick x Reader

Requested by Anon

Halloween 2020 Masterlist

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Gideon had the ship making Halloween candy to lift the team’s spirits at a terrifying rate. No one had checked the kitchen for half an hour and it was literally knee deep in candy.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Mick Rory x Reader / Leonard Snart x Reader

Requested by Anon

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Leonard stared over your shoulder at Mick as you hugged him. Snart kept his arms by his side until you let him go. At which point you hugged Mick who sighed. “We did such a great job guys!” When you pulled away from Mick you grinned brightly.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Mick Rory x Reader / Leonard Snart x Reader

Requested by Anon

Prompt List

You’d been hiding out in the cargo hold. It had taken you so long to convince Rip and Sara to let you take the lead. The plan you’d made worked. Until Jax was shot out of the sky and Firestorm crash landed. Ray had been crushed while shrunk down and Gidion was painfully regenerating the broken arm and leg he’d gotten.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Mick x Reader

Requested by Anon

Masterpost

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Valentine Event

You ran as fast as you could back to your room. They had invaded the ship and managed to spread out faster than you had thought. Gideon was glitching out and you couldn’t get anyone to answer on the coms.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Mick x Reader

Requested by Anon

Christmas 2020 Masterlist

Christmas 2020 event rules

Christmas Prompt List

Mick sighed as the two of you stood off to the side. Snart was in his element as he went about his plan.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Mick x Reader

Requested by Anon

Masterpost

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You froze as the ship lifted up into the air. As you attend your pockets you grimace. “What’s wrong?” Ray asked as you started to bounce on the balls of your feet and make a nervous noise that was not unlike the old internet dial up tone.

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[the-other-bookworm]

Imagine taking care of Mick when he’s drunk.

"And somebody take care of Mick," Sara shouted as she disbanded the team meeting. Things had been more stressful than usual lately, for everyone. So, you took it upon yourself to tend to Rory. He was always drunk, but it had been much worse recently.

"I know tensions have been high on the ship, but Mick, if you keep this up you’ll drink yourself to death," you chastised as you entered his room, having long ago learned how to pick the lock. "I brought soup. Gideon made your favorite," you told him. He only grunted in response as you sat the bowl before him. "I figured you couldn’t keep down solids after all the drinking you’ve been doing, so soup seemed best," you went on explaining, wishing he’d talk to you.

"You were always my favorite," Mick finally said. "You get me," he went on, sounding a bit out of it. He’d finally reached a new limit to his drinking. He was usually somewhat buzzed, but this was flat out drunk. He probably wouldn’t even remember this later.

But what better time to tell him what you’d been keeping to yourself for so long? "I’ve always had this crush on you," you told him, happy that he’d allowed you to crush up some crackers and feed him the soup. "Started when I first joined up with The Legends, but I suppose it’s silly."

It went quiet between you for a while as you got Mick to finish his soup. Content to leave him to rest and sleep off the worst of it, you got up to leave. Before you could, Mick reached out for your wrist, his grasp firm but not too rough. Then he pulled you to his level and kissed you.

"Well that was a first," you blurted after he let you go. "You, uh, take care, Mick. And take it easy on the booze. For me if nothing else, okay?" Mick gave you a gruff nod. "Get some rest. We'll talk about this when you’re back to yourself."

For anon

[the-other-bookworm]

ADVERSE EFFECTS

Request: flash rogues and eobard if I may how do you feel they would act if they got hit by sex pollen or an aphrodisiac like would they immediately go to their partner to get it out of their system or just wait for a while until it goes away A/N: My apologies anon, you originally asked for HCs, but I got kind of carried away with them, and now they're little flashfics, hope you enjoy them either way ♡

[Separate] Pairings: Eobard Thawne | Reverse Flash/Reader, Leonard Snart | Captain Cold/Reader, Mick Rory | Heat Wave/Reader, Axel Walker | Trickster II/Reader. Evan McCulloch | Mirror Master II/Reader, & Mark Mardon | Weather Wizard/Reader

Total Word Count: 2.3K

Eobard | Immediate Action Warnings: Somno, dubious/presumed consent, choking

Something, someone is touching you. It’s cool, and tingly. Like a million paper soft kisses all over your body at once. Like hot lips, trailing the curves of your body. Like teeth sinking into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, fast enough that you don’t feel it until it’s nothing but an after-sting.

Something is inside you. Something thick, so thick your pussy feels like it’s being split open. So fast it puts your vibrator to shame.

It feels good—so good that your nails are digging into your bedsheets, your breath is short, your back is arching, whole body is shaking.

“Fuuckkk.”

And all this before you’re even awake enough to register what’s going on.

“Thawne?” You whisper with quivering lips, eyes finally cracking open, taking in the ominous red orbs that stare back at you forebodingly. “Thawne, is that you?”

He shushes you. Unashamedly. Defiantly even, never mind the fact that he'd snuck in here, under cover of night, helping himself to you, using your body without even so much as a hello, how’s it going?

But oh, does it feel good. The speed and pressure. The way he fucks into your weeping pussy without mercy or respite. It’s constant, it’s endless. He could have been having his way with your body for seconds or hours, and your hazy mind wouldn’t have known the difference, but through the fog, you manage to utter his name once more.

In response, his blurred figure comes into focus. Perhaps he slows, but he’s already moving at such a pace it would be impossible to tell the difference.

“Shhuusshhh. I just need you for a while. I need to use your body.” He’s whispering, attempting to placate you, but his typical undertone of condescension fails to give way for something more soothing. His hand crawl up to meet the curve of your throat, squeezing until your breath falls short, and your eyelids start to flutter closed. “Just lie there and let me take what I need.”

Leonard | Denial Warnings: Rejection, anger, hypothetical mentions non-con and pregnancy  

His skin is molten hot. A stark contrast to his typically frigid exterior. Not that you can get a full grasp on him. The moment your fingers make contact with his exposed shoulder, he pulls away from you, red-faced and panting as he hisses. “Get away from me.”

The guys had warned you something was up, that he’d been hit by something nasty and he was even snappier than usual, but his rejection still stung, especially when you could see what he likely the route of his problem pressing painfully tight against his boxers.

“Please, Leonard.” Your pleas are futile. He won’t even look at you. “I only want to help. Let me.”

“I don’t want your help. What if I infect you?” His rebuttals are so Leonard. He’s selfish to a fault, but not when it comes to the people he cares about.

It’s a big part of why you practically worship him so much. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well, I’m not!” With his back to you, he literally puts his foot down in a sloppy, uncalculated stomp. Whatever chemicals are pumping through his bloodstream are starting to affect more than just his dick.

“So, what, you’re going to suffer in silence? Alone? Tha-”

“Yes... Trust me, I don’t want to.” His tone is scathing as he interrupts you. Nothing like the cool-headed Captain you’ve come to know. Glacial eyes, hemmed by irritated frown lines, stare right into your soul as he finally turns to face you. “You’re making it worse.”

“D’you think I haven’t thought about it? Since I got hit, I’ve thought about nothing but you. All I wanna do is rip your clothes off, bend you over that damn bed and fuck you until my dick falls off. I don’t care if you want it or not, I don’t care if you scream and cry and beg, I’d freeze your limbs solid if I have to. I don’t care if I knock you up, if you’re leaking cum for the rest of your life, if you never walk again. I would give anything to touch you right now.”

A ragged sigh violently rakes through his body, and for a split second, you see a hint of relief in his face, before all his pent-up frustration and fury come flooding back. Coarse fingers, you want to reach out and take in your own, sluggishly reach up to brush through his greying hair. He pulls tight at his scalp before turning his back to you yet again.

“But I can’t do that. I couldn’t live with myself if something bad happened. So, do us both a favour and leave.”

Mick | Suffer Warnings: N/A

“I can’t believe you let it get this bad.” You don’t mean to scold, despite the nature of your words, your tone is as mellow as you can muster whilst you trace your fingers along his body. Mick is pretty, in his own way. An abundance of burn scars already adorns a large expanse of his burly figure.

But there’s a disturbance. A slew of dark, protruding veins weave beneath his handsomely dappled skin. It had been hours since he'd taken the brunt of an alien flower bomb, and instead of complaining, instead of asking for help, he'd hauled up, feverish and alone. Ignoring anybody that came by to check on him until you'd picked the lock out of worry for your lover.

“Don’t make me ask for it.” He groans, harshly locking his hand around your wandering fingers before you get too mislaid in your exploration.

He’s never normally so impatient. He’d been cagey in the early days of your relationship, never so urgent. With time, he’d come to appreciate your lingering gazes and roving hands, but for the most part, he’s let you have your way. He'd never begrudged the chance to return the favour, his hefty fingers taking from you as much as you draw from him.

But tonight, he’s not himself; he’s holding onto you for dear life, rutting his hips upward, his cock throbbing against your bare sex, equally as desperate as its bearer to get inside of you. “Just hurry up and sit on my cock baby, or I’ll find another way to deal with the problem.”

“Charming as always, my love.” You roll your eyes, but you mean no ill intent. You’re more than happy to arch your back and sink down onto him. Admiring the scores of expressions on his face that he doesn’t normally bless you with. The grumble that evacuates his bitten lips is low and guttural, coming from deep inside his chest. His eyes roll back as the hint of respite your heated core offers him before he needs more.

Mark | Beg Warnings: Overstim

Marks got quite the silver tongue. He likes to have the first and last word. But for once in his life he's completely inarticulate.

Words bubble to his lips, and burst upon impact, dripping from his lips in pathetic, nonsensical murmurs.

“Wh- hh- one- one mu-more?” The tips of his dark, dusky brown hair tickle your neck as much as his breath, and he pants into you. His skin, dewy, and red-hot sticks to yours as he sloppily rocks his hips, pumping into your already brimming, and sore entrance. “P-p-please?”

The begging is new too. Mark's never been shy about taking what he wants; it's a given in his line of work, but tonight he needs you, and that desperation has him weak. Has his hands shaking as he holds your body into the bed. Has his heart hammering at the thought of filling your pretty little hole with his cum again. And again. And again. It just won't stop. There's no buildup, and no relief, just constant, depraved, excruciating, pressure.

“As many as you need, Marco.” You might not be able to cash that cheque, already overwhelmed. Tender and twitching under his touch, but beneath all the salacious pleasure he evokes with every drag of his cock, you can see he's suffering. See the hunger is consuming him with every second he isn't releasing his painfully hard cock between your legs, so you'll try your best.

“Mmmm-more.” It’s non-committal, ominous, makes your stomach flutter and your walls clench at the thought of exactly how much more he's going to take, greedily fucking you, filling you. Bruising you with every slap of his skin, every clench of his fingers.

And under it all, the admiring little twinkle in his eye, the gratitude that's hidden beneath layers of animalistic frenzy make all worth it.

Evan | Borrow Warnings: B&E, voyeurism

Heartbeat in your chest, you gingerly slot your key into your bedroom door. Some might call your security precautions excessive, but you’ve gotten up close and personal with some of Central City’s seediest criminals. You know you can never be too safe.

Case in point: you’re the only person with a key to the room, but somebody is in there. You can hear them, their uneven breathing, the creak of old wood calling to you like an SOS. Seriously, if they’re trying to be sneaky, they should learn how to move on lighter feet, and quit smoking or see or doctor or something, cause that sound is not natural.

Door unlocked, baseball bat at the ready, you swing the door open, storming in, ready for a fight, but the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks.

There, lazily spread across your bed is your boyfriend, Evan. His distinctive orange and green suit crumpled on the floor, his mirror gun beside his presumable point of entry; your mirror.

He’s stark naked, every fiery hair, every freckle, every muscle, every worryingly dark, and swollen vein on full display to you as he lies amid a pile of your dirty washing. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, you’d have expected him to notice you by now, but clearly he’s busy. Very busy, with his mouth tightly wrapped around the crotch of yesterday's underwear. Another pair caught in his fist as he drags it along his shaft, over and over again, every muscle in his body switching with each stroke.

“Fuck me.” You mutter under your breath. He’s a sight and a half, that’s for sure. “Evan?”

Even the sound of your voice doesn’t stir him from his trance. It takes your hand tapping at his rippling stomach to finally snap him out of it. But even with his eyes wide open, looking directly at you, there's still a glassiness to them.

Your cotton-muffled name falls from his lips in a pained whisper. It’s like he sees you; he wants you, but there’s a distance between you. Until you trace the red tufts of hair that draw the line from his belly button to his painfully red cock.

“Want a hand there?” The moment your fingertips trace his leaking crown, something snaps him back into the real world. With newfound clarity and zeal, he snaps upright, spitting your underwear to the side as he grabs at your shirt, drawing you on top of him.

Axel | Steal Warnings: Attempted non-con, voyeurism, non-sexual electric shocks

Given Axel’s history with Ivy, you’d hoped he might have developed some kind of natural immunity to her toxins. That was too much to wish for, apparently.

As much became evident as you checked him over in the back of the getaway van.

One moment you’re monitoring his alarmingly high pulse, the next he’s gripping your wrists, staring up at you with wide eyes and blown-out pupils. He’s sweaty and sallow. You’re expecting him to complain, to ask you for drugs or water, but as always, Axel never ceases to surprise.

“You’re… so… hot.” The words sound painful and exhaustive. He concludes by letting his head loll back, clanging against the metal interior behind him.

Painful, exhaustive, and nonsensical. “Me? Axel, you’re burning up. How-”

“No. You’re… hot.” He reiterates, punctuating each word with a raspy breath. “I wanna put… my dick… in you… right now… sooooo... bad.”

Suddenly, you’re feeling hot under the collar yourself. The badly disguised laughter of Sam and Mark does nothing but aggravate the situation. “Is- Is it the toxin? Are you f-”

“It’s your body.” Axel is always animated, even when he’s not speaking. Even though his head hangs practically limp between his shoulders, his hands are still clumsily gesturing in the space between you, pointing at your ass and down to his crotch, then back again. “C’mon, I need this, I feel like my cocks gonna explode. Like I'm gonna die. You don't want me to die do you?”

For a moment, you wonder if he’s messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first trick you’d fallen for, and it undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last, but as you scour his body again, noting his raised hairs, dried lips, and tenting pants, you conclude that he’s totally and completely serious.

“Man, she did a number on you this time.” You whisper to yourself before resting your hand on his leather-clad shoulder, leaning in until you’re certain his looking back at your eyes and not your chest. “Can you hold on until we get back to base?”

You’re not expecting him to tackle you to the ground, thankfully, your head is saved from smashing against the metal sheet floor by Mark’s boot.  

“Axel, stop! Axel, we’re not alone!”

“Yeah, and? Let give 'em a show.”

At a loss for words, you look up at your audience, and you don’t like what you see. As Axel peels your legs apart, lodging his clothed cock between them and rutting against your core like a man possessed, like a man who's never known the definition of inhibitions; frankly, that might not be far from the truth, Sam and Mark continue to titter between themselves at your expense.

“Don’t mind us.” Mark grins, lifting a brow suggestively.

“Yeah, have at it.” Sam finishes. It's hard to tell if they're betting that Axel won't go the distance, or if they're really happy to sit there and watch it through. The uncertainty makes you even more nervous. If Sam's involved, there's probably a bet on.

The burning pleasure of Axel's bulge grinding against your sweet spot, or his fingers carelessly squeezing and tracing your hips, your chest, your neck, the spots he knows you crave to be touched, is not enough to tempt. The thought of his cock inside of you, stretching you out while he shit talks in front of your teammates makes your mouth water, makes you ache with want. But the fantasy doesn't outweigh the reality, doesn't stifle your concerns about your social standings or, more importantly, Axel's health.

Axel begins to fumble with your zipper, his cybernetic hand delivering a shock to your body when you attempt to fight him on. Without knocking him out with the steel toes of your boot, there’s only one other option you can think of: “LENNN!!!!”

“For fucks sake.” In a bitter tone reserved solely for fed-up fathers, your captain starts to mutter from the passenger seat. “Don't you dare have sex in this van. I swear, if I have to come back there…”

[the-other-bookworm]

invisible string

summary: with the Emergence looming, the Eternals reunite; only Druig knows where you are, but he hasn’t seen you in two centuries, and maybe you like it that way

pairing: druig x eternal! female reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of war, violence, druig’s use of mind control on reader, that’s all i think? idk

a/n: sooo i don’t think anyone reads druig fics anymore buttt i rewatched Eternals and liked it soo much more on rewatch and im obsessed with druig again so yeaaa i hope yall give it a chance? luv ya ;)

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575 BC - Babylon

Your legs laid out peacefully across the lapaz stone you rested on. Soft chatter filled your ears as village girls twisted your hair into soft braids, weaving bright orange and white flowers in. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you sat patiently for the young humans. You didn’t mind, every second you spent with them was precious, especially the children.

The girls wrapped the end of your hair, pulling it forward to show you their work. You smiled softly at the youngblood, admiring their fragile work. The humans never ceased to amaze you.

“Il likrubk,” you said sweetly. May the Gods bless you.

As you admired the braid, you began to hear excited yet secretive giggles from the girls circling you. Looking up, you saw the girls chuckling at each other yet trying to hide it from you. You shifted your gaze from them to look to your side, seeing Druig walking over. When you looked back, the girls ran off, leaving a trail of laughter and flowers in their wake. You just smiled smugly to yourself.

“My, my they did a beautiful job on you,” Druig’s voice was intoxicating, it always was to you. Slick and sly, always with a bit of wit and mystery; dripping with a hidden intention only he knew.

“Do the flowers suit me?” you asked.

“Everything suits you, my radiant Y/N,” he said. You ducked your head, desperate to hide the blush blossoming across your cheeks.

He crouched beside you, resting beside you with his charcoal cape flowing across the stone ledge. From the peripheral view of your gaze at the city below, you could see him eyeing you up and down. His eyes were hungry with desire and adoration. His head tilted as he smirked, leaning in and giving you a soft nudge with his shoulder.

“We should get going, back to the Domo. I think Ajak wants to speak with all of us,” you said, nervously trying to shift the mood to hide your butterflies.

“Ahh is that so, dove?” he said, leaning back on his palms and flashing a dangerous smile at you- doused in charm.

“Yes!” you said, hopping up and offering your hand to him. “Now come on, we can brave Icarus’ obnoxious tirades together.”

His head dropped in laughter and suddenly your stomach was twisted in knots, lungs short of breath. He was beautiful. He grabbed your hand and pulled you off towards the ship. You kept it to yourself, but you couldn’t help but relish in his firm and protective grip on your supple hands.

Present Day - Amazon Rainforest

“Druig, this is serious,” Sersi said, standing from her seat in the chapel to face the dark-haired man. 

“I’ll tell you what’s serious. I’ve just been told I’ve been sent on a suicide mission for the past 7000 years, and that my entire existence is a lie,” Druig snapped, confronting her as he stalked forward. He was always able to keep such a serene and stoic demeanor. Yet, seeing his “family” together again after centuries seemed to have left him shaken. There was something eerie about seeing them all together. All except one. “So excuse me for not giving a shit about your plan right now.”

Druig turned and stormed to the door to leave, hoping to erase the encounter from his memory as soon as possible. If only he could warp his mind the way he could others. The sooner he left the room the sooner he could go back to his life, pretending they had never come.

“Don’t you think Y/N would want you to help?” Sersi asked.

Druig froze as his hand hovered at the door. He felt the muscles in his mouth twitch at the mention of your name. Bile in his stomach churned. He tried to stay calm, to keep himself composed, but he couldn’t bite his tongue. Before he could stop himself, he spun around, marching back over to them.

“Don’t mention her. Not to me,” he said, his jaw taut with anxiety and dread. “You don’t know what she’d want. Besides, she’s not even here.”

Sersi couldn’t respond before he had bolted out of the chapel, leaving the barn doors slamming behind him. The tension hung in the room so thick you could almost choke on it. Thena sighed, stroking the lizard perched across her lap, before speaking.

“You should know something about him and Y/N.”

1521 AD - Tenochtitlan

You stood beside Druig, leaning into the hard muscles of his side. You had tried to control your fear, but it always seemed to get the best of you. He kept you grounded- safe and secure. You cherished that, needed that. Especially now.

Thena tried to kill you and Makkari; she attacked the entire group. Druig had to carry you to Ajax himself. You were trembling in his arms as your legs shook and bled. Even now that you were healed, he couldn’t get himself to remove his grip on your waist. You knew she didn’t mean to harm you, she wasn’t herself. This was something else. Mahd Wryry. 

“It is not important if you remember or not,” Ajax said, her hands slipping through Thena’s hair as she tried to calm her. Trying to convince her everything would be okay, that it was no big deal. But how could it not be, she would lose her memories; all the experiences and life that made her Thena. “Your spirit will remain, you will always be Thena deep inside. Trust me.”

“Why should she trust you?”

You looked over, hearing Druig’s deep voice speak up. You could feel his grip on you tighten yet his hands still shook. Your brows furrowed, noticing the tension in his neck and jaw. You tried to stroke his back, to calm him down, but he was already fed up. His hand gave your waist one last squeeze before leaving your side. You suddenly felt the cold chill of his absence as he walked towards Ajax.

“You’re asking her to let you erase who she is,” he said. You knew him better than anyone, you could hear the tremor in his voice. His tone was callous and dripping with resentment. 

“Dru…” you said, trying to get him to relax. Your voice must’ve been too soft to drown out the boisterous drums in his head, playing that same beat of rage and disappointment over and over again.

“Druig, I know you’re upset, but-” Ajax tried to get him to understand, but he wasn’t having it anymore.

“Upset?!” Druig shouted. You were startled, stumbling back a bit at the tone of his voice. “We’ve trusted you for 7000 years, and look where you’ve gotten us.”

You bowed your head, knowing his resentment over the last seven millennia was finally bubbling over and unleashing on everyone in the room. You had listened to his troubles on countless nights. You knew how much it tormented him to watch the humans he cared for so deeply harm and destroy each other. You were always his shoulder to cry on, his to seek solace in. This was nothing new to your ears.

“I’ve watched humans destroy each other when I could stop it all in a heartbeat,” he said. You ducked your head, hearing the shake in his normally strong voice. You knew if you glanced up you’d see that quivering bottom lip you’d become so acquainted with. You couldn’t do it, you just looked down. “Do you know what that does to someone after centuries?”

You noticed Sersi and Phantos glancing at you, perhaps hoping you’d step in. They all knew of your confusing relationship. You’d never labeled it, never defined it out loud. Never confessed undying love in a secluded dwelling, soon to wed surrounded by family. But there was something. Something that kept you tied at the hip, something that allowed him to hold your hand and rest his head in your lap. There was something undeniable.

But you couldn’t say anything; to an extent, you understood Ajax. Druig knew you didn’t adore his power. You would never hold it against him, you’d never blame him for what Areshem gave him. But you believed it was a gift that had to be used responsibly. You had expressed to him it was something you believed should only be used in dire circumstances- to save a life or prevent disaster. But you knew something that made humans so special was their conscious free will and autonomy. You couldn’t rob them of that.

“Could our mission have been a mistake?” Druig asked, “Are we really helping these people build a better world, huh?” 

You glanced up to see he had turned to look at you. The single tear slipping down his cheek stung in your chest. You could see it in his eyes as if he was pleading for you to say something. To beg him to calm down, to just talk. To take his hands and pull him to you. But you didn’t.

Druig’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heels, making his way out of the temple and down the steep set of stairs. His thick cape wrapped against your legs on his way out. You couldn’t hear his words as he stepped outside, the raging war filled your mind as you contemplated your role in your mission.

“It ends now,” Druig said. 

Suddenly, you hear the clashing of swords and screaming come to a halt. You knew his eyes would be glowing a vibrant gold if you could see them. Before you could say anything, Ikaris swept past you; his arm slammed Druig into the stone wall behind them. You felt your stiff legs break free, bringing yourself to the pair desperate to break them up.

“Let them go,” Ikaris said.

“You’re gonna have to make me,” Druig said. 

“Please stop!” you said, coming up beside them. Your hand reached for Druig’s but Ikaris stood between you. You felt Ajax approach behind you, sending Ikaris a stern look. He backed away, leaving the three of you. You stepped forward, taking Druig’s hand in yours. It shook as it gripped yours with vigor. 

“If you want to stop me, you’re gonna have to kill me,” Druig said. 

His hand slipped from your grasp. He turned away from you with a soft look before descending the temple. You watched as his eyes glowed and the humans below stood in wait for him. You glanced back at Ajax, your eyes pleading for her to stop him. But she did nothing, instead nodding for you to follow him. You ran down the stairs, your legs still weak and recovering. You stumbled as you chased him.

“Druig!” You shouted as you caught up to him, “Please wait!” 

Hearing your messy footsteps, he stopped and turned to see you. Worry overtook his eyes as he watched your weak legs attempt to keep up with him. Quickly, he met you a few stairs up; his hands grasped your arms to hold you steady.

“Hey, what are you doing? You’re recovering,” he said, his concern for you halting his current plans. The yellow in his eyes dulled away as he looked at you. His brows trembled and unease widened his eyes.

“Druig, please don’t leave,” you said. Your hands reached for the fabric of his cape, as if holding him tight enough would keep him there with you. “Tensions are high right now, I get that. But please don’t leave.”

“I have to go, dove,” he said. His thumbs rubbed soft circles into your arms.

“Don’t leave me,” you said. 

Druig’s gaze dropped, returning to your shaking legs. His stomach knotted and his chest ached at the thought of leaving you. Not being there to hold you in the night. To see your smile each time you saw the sparkling constellations in the sky. To soak in the look you reserved just for him, teeming with adoration and something else he was too afraid to name.

“Come with me,” he said, still guarding his gaze.

“Druig, this isn’t the answer,” you said.

Finally, he locked eyes with you again. He could no longer hide the red burning in his eyes, the tears coming to the surface. You knew this wasn’t the way, isolating himself, taking control of humans. You knew this wasn’t the answer. Not for the rest of time.

“You should stay,” you said, desperate to get him to listen. 

“You won’t come?” he asked.

You just looked down. 

He had his answer. Before you could get another word in, he took you and sat you on the steps. Steadying you into a more stable position. His hand tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you close one last time and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. You felt his tears soak into your skin before he pulled away. His hand began to slip from yours as he turned to leave, but you stopped him. Perhaps one last attempt to keep him there with you.

“Please, Druig,” you said. He glanced up, noticing Ajax watching the two of you from the temple.

“Sersi will help you down,” he said, swiping his thumb tenderly across your hand before pulling it away.

And just like that, he was gone. 

Present Day

Druig leaned against a sturdy tree, staring up at the stars peaking through the brush above him. He couldn’t shake your voice from his head.

You were right. 

This wasn’t the way. He had kept those people safe, he knew that. But as Sersi asked him to free them as the Deviant raided their village, he felt it. For the first time, he felt like the bad guy. He couldn’t shake the thought. He knew if you were there, if he had listened to you, none of this would have happened. 

Perhaps Ajax would still be alive. Gilgamesh definitely would be. That was on him.

“Druig?” the voice startled him, shaking him from his thoughts as he saw Sersi approaching. She quietly stood beside him, glancing up at the stars he had just been studying.

“She was right,” Druig said, sinking to the ground as he hugged his knees to his chest. “Maybe I’m just as bad as the deviants.”

“What?” Sersi said, resting a hand on his knee. “Who said that?”

Druig just glanced at her, swallowing the hard lump forming in his throat.

“She would never, ever say something like that to you, Druig,” Sersi said. “Y/N adores you.”

“She didn’t have to say it,” Druig said, fidgeting with the pendant on the cord dangling from his neck. The soft texture of the blue and white glass slipped between his fingers. “How could she not think that?”

“Druig, Thena told us what happened in Molyvos, Y/N wrote to her. When was the last time you saw her?” 

“I don’t know, at least a century. She used to come visit here, but after a while, she stopped. I went to see her in Greece. That was the last time I saw her.”

Sersi sighed, watching as Druig clutched at the necklace in his hand. 

“We need to find her Druig. And we need you, please. For Y/N?”

1826 - Molyvos, Greece

Druig watched as your feet danced down the stone steps of the village to greet him, the thick linen of your skirts tickling your ankles as they flowed around you.

“You came!” you said, giggling as you reached him.

He couldn’t contain the infectious smile that seemed to spread across his face at the sight of you. His hands grabbed for your soft body, lifting you as he held you close. Your laugh trickled into his ear as you burrowed your face into the crook of his neck. He took in the potent scent floating off you as he set you down; seawater, wood, and roses. 

“So this is where you’ve been spending your time lately, huh?” he said, nudging you with his shoulder. You smiled to yourself as you took his hand. 

“This island is so calm. It’s what you’ve always wanted,” you said, leading him up the stairs.

-

You’d spent the following days guiding him through the village and showing him your life; how it intertwined with the people in your small community. Fishing, sewing clothing, and selling fruits at the market. It was peaceful, something he’d always longed for. 

You reminisced on your days together all those centuries ago. Holding his head in your hands, soothing the pounding aches in his head from all the thoughts of others swirling through his mind. You knew it couldn’t have been any better back in the forest. 

Sure, all the times you visited it was calm. But was that where he belonged? Isolated with no one to watch over him and make sure he was safe. You saw how drained he’d been, taking care of everyone else. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that the village would be fine without him. Not that he wasn’t valuable, but they needed to live a life of their own. So did he.

You’d hoped bringing him here would convince him. Give him the push he needed to finally leave it all behind and focus on him. To let the village flourish on its own. 

You sat with him on the stone wall along the steps winding up to your home. Overlooking the sea below you, the waves crashing against the harbor and swaying the fishing boats tethered to the docks. The winding branches of white wisterias shaded the two of you, petals of the flowers occasionally blowing across your face in the wind.

You glanced over to Druig, the tunic he wore loose on his chest. His hands, normally wringing in his lap, were soft and relaxed. He gazed around the island before him, a smile subtly placed on his face. He may have been the mind reader, but you were his. You knew him so well, that you could read him like an open book. Even if he didn’t want you to. He was happy. You knew he wanted to stay.

“This is for you,” You said, reaching out to hand him the small trinket. He turned to see your sweet face, your eyes sparkling as the sun danced in your irises. He looked down to see you’d placed a small glass pendant in his hands. He studied the object, smiling to himself as he turned it in his fingertips.

“It’s an evil eye, the humans here believe it will protect you from evil spirits,” you said as you watched him. “It has to be gifted to you by someone, so I wanted you to have this.”

“It’s beautiful, dove,” he said. 

Red splashed across your cheeks like watercolors at the name. He had always loved calling you that, watching you fluster before him in search of a response.

“You should stay,” you said, glancing down at your hands. You picked at the lace trim of your long blouse. You’d thrown the thought out into the open, and expressed your deep desire to him. You just hoped if he was going to reject you, it wouldn’t be as painful as you imagined.

“Y/N, you know I can’t,” he said. Quickly, he slipped the pendant into his pocket and stood from his seat on the wall. He felt the sudden urge to flee, to return to the village. He couldn’t be there any longer. Because if he had to say no to you again, to leave you while you begged for him to stay another time, he would crumble. How could he not when he was denying everything inside of him that pleaded for him to just stay?

You began to panic as he walked off. You couldn’t let him leave again.

“Dru please, you can’t keep doing this,” you said, following after him. “You have to live your life.”

“I have a life, that village is my life,” he said, turning back to you.

“You should let them go, Druig. It’s time,” you said, taking a step forward. “Come stay with me.”

“Y/N, that village is important to me,” he said, struggling to find a reason you weren’t right. Deep down, he knew you were right. 

“And I’m not?” you asked.

Druig furrowed his brows in distress, fearing he couldn’t make the right decision. Why couldn’t he just stay? Just be happy here with you? 

As the thoughts swirled in his mind, he felt the tension in his head building. The headache pounded harder in his skull as he watched you turn on your heels and make your way up the stairs. With a hand holding the tender space on his forehead, he chased after you.

“Dove, please wait,” he said.

“Just go, Druig,” you shouted over your shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then go!”

“Please, just stop!” he said. He could feel the pain building, the panic in his chest growing. He couldn’t leave you on a bad note again.

He pleaded behind you as you left him, chasing you up the stairs and begging for you to just stop.

“Y/N please!” He shouted desperately. 

Suddenly, you stopped. As if your body wasn’t your own, you turned to face him. His eyes were glowing yellow and you couldn’t move. 

Before you could even grasp what was happening, it was over. You shook your arms as control returned. Druig’s eyes were his normal blue. But they were distressed, regretful, and panicked. He messed up.

He controlled you.

You froze, this time of your own doing, considering what had just happened.

“Dove, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, rushing towards you; the realization of what he’d accidentally done dawned on him. 

Quickly, you took a fidgety step back away from him. He paused, taking in the situation. You were afraid of him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, tearing his eyes from your line of sight. “I didn’t realize I, I’m sorry.”

Finally coming back to yourself, you tried to reach for his hand. But he had already left.

Present Day - Belfast, Ireland 

Druig walked up the steps to the ornate building in front of him. Sprite and Thena followed behind as he took in the large campus. It was only fitting that you'd end up teaching at a university. You were one of the smartest people he knew. And you loved to watch the humans grow and learn.

He waited on the steps as students filed out of the building. Sprite had figured out when your class would let out. Now he just had to wait. 

The sea of lively students chatted amongst themselves as they rushed from the doorway, he desperately searched the crowd for your familiar face. When he finally saw you, it was as if the breath was knocked from his lungs.

You hadn’t changed much. But two centuries of fashion did take him by surprise. Instead of the modest, linen dresses he’d last seen you in on the coast of Greece, you wore a loose pair of grey pants, a long and flowing cream blouse, and brown flats. He never got tired of seeing how each culture and century dressed you.

Before he could turn back to the women behind him, he felt something tick in his brain. When he glanced back at your face, he saw your eyes meeting his. He could have sworn his brain was malfunctioning, you smiled at him.

You stopped in your tracks as you took him in through the crowd of people passing between you. He looked the same. The same clothing, the same hair. But what was new was the evil eye strung around his neck. 

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face as you locked eyes with his blue ones. Your head gestured back to the building behind you, before turning back inside hoping he’d follow.

-

“So you’re saying I’m a robot?” you asked Sprite as you leaned against the counter behind you.

“Well, kinda,” she said, trying to help you grasp the situation. “But that doesn’t matter. You need to come with us.” 

You glanced to Thena for her opinion. Her lips became a flat line as she nodded in agreement with Sprite.

The young eternal kept rambling, but you weren’t processing it. You couldn’t stop staring at Druig. He paced around the art studio, taking in all the large canvases that sat on easels and racks. 

“Could we have a minute?” you asked the two, still looking at Druig. He froze at your request, making it clear he was still listening despite how he tried to keep up his aloof demeanor.

Sprite scoffed as she made her way out of the room, pretending to gag as she glanced at Druig and you. Thena smiled to herself, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as she followed Sprite out.

Druig stirred by the window, unable to face you yet.

“I missed you,” you said. Your head tilted as you continued to examine his movements. He was nervous, it was obvious ashe fidgeted and picked at his cuticles. 

“Did you get my letters?” You asked.

He paused. Of course, he got your letters. Every single one. They were bundled together with string and tucked under his pillow back at the village. 

You never went a month without sending one. Ever since he left that island that day. You’d told him of your travels, everywhere you ended up over the decades. He’d read them all by candlelight after the village had long turned in for the night. He ruminated over each word; all the smudges of ink by your shaky hands, all the chicken scratch handwriting as you always wrote too fast in an attempt to catch up with your thoughts. He got every single letter. And he could recite them all if you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally turning to face you. 

Your smile faltered as he began to unravel.

“Druig,” you said, trying to stop him.

“No, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” Druig took slow steps towards you as if preparing himself for you to stumble away from him again. But you didn’t

“I didn’t mean it, it just happened. I was overwhelmed and I couldn’t handle everything, but it’s no excuse. And I just-”

“Dru, it’s okay,” you were suddenly in front of him, your hands taking his. The tremors he could seem to control all those decades suddenly stopped.

“I’m not mad, it’s okay. I understand,” you said.

“I let them go. I’m done, Y/N,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I don’t wanna be a monster, dove.”

Your heart fluttered at that damn nickname. You fucking missed it.

“You were never a monster, Druig. What you can do, what you have to deal with. I’ll never understand it. But I just want what’s best for you,” you slipped a hand through his soft hair as it fell in front of his face. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I missed you, so fucking much,” he said, resting his forehead to yours. 

You chuckled to yourself, brushing your nose against his as you smiled. Your lips slowly slipped across his, as if asking for permission. As if he’d been waiting for the moment, Druig pulled you close, his lips hungry for you. 7000 years of hunger.

When you finally pulled back, he was smirking like an idiot. You took your hand and ran your thumb across his red lips. He chuckled to himself.

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. His accent slurred as he smiled against your cheek.

“What?” you asked, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“You’re gonna get killed with me trying to stop this emergence?” he said, jokingly.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I’d kill any celestial if it meant not forgetting you.”

---

hope you liked it heheh its not the best but hey, a new character :)

[the-other-bookworm]

Ghost: I'm getting married Y/N: Congra- Ghost, slamming a marriage certificate on the table: to you, sign here

[the-other-bookworm]

Sergeant!Reader that always checks their food thoroughly before taking a bite.

A simple white bread and ham sandwich, the captain’s knuckle prints and jagged cut telling everyone he’d made them before you all left. Huffing about how he won’t make you ungrateful bastards a snack on the next training drill. The derelict safe house, in the middle of nowhere not offering much, but a roof and brick walls. Least the bloody birds aren’t nesting in the chimney this time.

Soap and Gaz always comment about how it’s not poisoned, your eyes trailing from whatever food’s in their hand to their face.

Ghost, sees you though. How you’re checking for mould or lifting it to your nose slightly to check the smell. He remembers you returning like a bag of bones, cheeks sunken in and eyes red as you squinted at the sun. Even years later you expect whatever you’re eating to be your last your meal.

Price knows too, your lack mentality noted in your file. Christ’s sake. How you’re resourceful, can make something with barely nothing and he’s not talking about food.

The competitive streak that sees you butting heads with Soap, but it pushes both of you to get creative and get the job done. You and Gaz debate about the outcome, you thinking the worse and Gaz thinking best case scenario. You’re both able to think of multiple variables and adjust accordingly. Ghost giving his food the once over, but it’s subtle that you know yours is also good enough to eat. The lieutenant telling you to finish whatever eating before you even think of standing. Price making you all eat a meal together straight after a mission and a trip to the infirmary.

The guys slowly chipping away at your scarcity mindset. Gaz influencing your thoughts and showing you that not everything falls apart, but if it does you’ll face it together as a team. Soap teaching healthy rivalry and that you can also ask for help when you need it, at no expense to yourself. Ghost’s grounding presence reminding you that you survived and don’t have to be scared of the future. And Captain Price helping you branch out, giving you the resources to find your first flat and somewhere to call your own when not on base.

All the things you could do yourself, but it doesn’t hurt to allow some help.

[Masterlist]

[the-other-bookworm]

Pls be nice its the first longer thing since forever

You were just trying to get the literal buffet of food to your men when a rookie, barely looking at you, stops you from entering the barracks

"no civilians allowed sweatheart"

Somewhere in the distance you could hear someone cursing cause thats the Captains Wife

Raising an eyebrow you said "I'm no civilian and I'm just trying to deliver something"

The guy didnt like that answer and tried to make himself bigger

"lady we dont let any barracks bunny in here no matter how good a lay"

Laughing in disbelieve you scoffed "I may not be as threatning as my husband or member of this base but you I have three guard dogs under his command who can make your life a living nightmare!"

The 141 minus the captain were investigating after hearing of an argument with a civilian on base and right after rounding a corner they could recognize your voice

Soap was instantly grinning and calling an excited "bonnie!"

But that grin was wiped away quickly when he saw that rookie trying to intimidate you

Ghost basically materialized beside you and you could see the exact moment the rookie realized his tragic error

"we'll deal with you later an' it wont be pretty"

you had never seen anyone run that fast and if you weren't so fed up with the situation you might've laughed

turning to the boys you sighed "thanks guys I was nearly ready to just scream for john or you all"

Instantly you were surrounded by three burly men trying to get a hug, kiss or look in the bags with food

Gaz slung his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss on your temple

"c'mon we'll bring the goods to cap"

And you were led away in the middle to finally eat in peace

[the-other-bookworm]

Part 4 of asshole ex best friend?

I did not expect anyone to like this enough to actually ask for more lol. I'm flattered that you do anon 💜 here is part four for you

-

“So… I assume we’re not going to have sex,” Parker said after several minutes passed without you saying anything. But the look on his face, it was a question—and you realized that if you said yes right now, after he gave you this ultimatum, he would do it. He would fuck you. Even knowing that this wasn’t what you really wanted. That he’d had to negotiate you into having sex with him.

Had to coerce you.

It hit you all at once, that that’s what he was doing. Why you felt so disgusted, so uncomfortable, so unsafe. It was because he was doing something vile, breaking your trust in the worst possible way, and you didn't even know if he was fully aware of just how predatory he was being.

You hoped to God that he didn't know. You hoped to God you hadn’t been wrong about him, all this time.

You left, then, the tears turning into full-on sobs that you tried to hide as you ran back to your room. When you got there, you sat on the floor, staring blankly at the wall and trying to remember what it was like to feel like your body belonged to you. That it was a part of you, and not just a tasty morsel that men wanted to take a bite of. That men would say and do anything to take a bite of. But try as you might, you couldn't shake the feeling of violation strangling your heart and making your throat close up.

You wouldn’t feel like yourself—like a person—for nearly a week. A week in which you spoke to no one from your team. What were you supposed to say? They were all men, and if this had taught you anything, it was that even the seemingly best men weren't to be trusted. They wouldn't understand the magnitude of what Parker had done. He didn’t touch you, didn’t hold a gun to your head, he let you leave, so what were you so worked up about? You could see it so clearly, what would happen if you told them. They'd believe you, and they’d be disappointed in Parker, but they wouldn’t do anything. Parker would remain on the team, and you would have to work alongside him with the knowledge of what he’d tried to do to you. Never feeling safe. Always feeling like just an object.

You couldn't do it. You didn't want to do it. To tell them what had happened and be so thoroughly disappointed.

So, after another week of agonizing over the decision, you drew up a transfer request. This time, you would be the one to leave. Before you were hurt even worse.

[the-other-bookworm]

Doubt part three. Part 1. Part 2.

warnings: mild coercion & misogyny

-

And for one blessed mission, it was.

Then Parker asked you to sleep with him. Again.

“I’m not in love with you anymore, I promise. But you’re hot, and I want to add… benefits to our friendship.”

He didn't even have the excuse of being drunk this time—nor did he back off when you became horribly and visibly uncomfortable. In that moment, you forgot every tactic for hiding your emotions—you felt sick, and you were sure you looked it.

This… this was worse. This was so much worse than last time. And you had no idea how to even respond.

You told him you needed time to process, and he seemed to take that well. You avoided him like the plague for the next several weeks, pulling away from the rest of the team, too, and it was only when Soap cornered you to try and find out what was wrong (he failed) that you realized you needed to stop stewing in your discomfort and just tell Parker he’d crossed a line.

Except when you finally did go to his room to tell him, you lost your nerve. You didn't want to lose him again. He was your best friend. Had been for years. You loved him. Not the way he’d loved you, but that didn't mean you loved him any less.

So you stuttered out an awkward no to his request, saying that you just wanted to be friends—not friends with benefits. To your relief, he accepted that, and though you still felt tense and a little discomfited, you agreed to his invitation to just hang out. Like you used to.

An hour later, just when you were finally starting to relax, he brought it up again.

This time, it was an ultimatum disguised as a compliment.

“You’re just too beautiful, it’s not fair. I need to fuck you.”

You gripped the edge of his desk tightly, finding it hard to breathe.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Parker,” you told him for the third time. It hurt that once hadn't been enough. It scared you that once hadn’t been enough. “I just want to be friends.”

For the very first time, you felt unsafe in his presence. You became keenly aware of the fact that the two of you were alone. He was bigger than you, stronger than you. And the way he was talking… you shivered, dread crawling down your spine. No. No, he would never.

Right?

“I can’t be just friends with you, not after the way I loved you. I need more,” he said, and the way he said need made it sound like deserve. “I don’t love you anymore. I wasn’t lying about that. But I still want to fuck you.”

“I don't want that,” you said again, little more than a whisper. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you struggled to keep them from falling. Your stomach roiled, nausea building steadily. “I just want to be friends.”

“I can’t be just friends with you,” he repeated, and finally, you understood. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” you replied, the word sounding hollow. The tears fell, and you didn't bother to wipe them away. Distantly, you could recognize that you felt angry. Disgusted. Violated. But you also didn't feel like you were in your own body. Like suddenly, your ownership of it had been revoked. “So either I let you fuck me, or we can't be friends anymore?”

“Yes,” he answered, and he at least had the decency to look ashamed. It didn't help. It just meant that he knew what he was doing to you was wrong, but he didn't care. He did it anyway, because he cared about getting access to your body more than he cared about how you felt. More than he cared about you.

For a moment, you sat there in stunned silence, and you thought about it. You imagined what it would be like, laying on his bed and letting him touch you. Hating every moment of it. Feeling afraid and betrayed and disgusted with yourself. Could you do it, to keep this friendship? The one you had treasured for so many years? Could you do it, sacrifice your autonomy for the good of the team, so there were no rifts? No tension?

No. You couldn’t.

And, you thought dizzily, staring at the person who, at one point, had been the only man you wholeheartedly trusted, but who was now nothing more than a stranger. Why should I have to?

[the-other-bookworm]

notes: continuation of my last post. titling this little blurb series 'doubt'. i promise we'll eventually get to more 141 interaction.

-

And you did feel guilty. When the news broke to the rest of the team that Parker was transferring, you sat there in silence, feeling sick. Your fault. It was your fault. He’d told you you’d been too caring. Too supportive. Too loyal. That was why he’d fallen for you. Why he couldn’t be around you any longer if he was going to get over his feelings.

You’d just been being a friend.

Parker never told the rest of the team the real reason for him leaving, and neither did you. You pulled back from them, afraid you were doing the same thing to them that you’d done to him. Bring too much. Tempting them with your interest in their passions. Taunting them with your friendly hugs. Like Parker had said you’d done to him.

Months passed. The 141 was assigned to work with Parker’s new team on a mission. You were anxious like never before, but when he saw you, he smiled and opened his arms for a hug. Confused, you hesitantly returned it. You waited for him to say something, to give you some sort of sign, but throughout the whole mission, he never did.

More months went by, more joint missions. They were all the same. Your nerves had faded. The awkwardness had faded. You were close with your team again, even more so than before. And you and Parker called sometimes, now.

Finally, you asked him to come back. To rejoin the 141. Happily, he put in the paper work. You were so relieved. You were finally going to have your best friend back, and your team—your family—would be whole again.