#I was on pain meds when I wrote some of this . a warning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crguang · 23 days

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wasted with longing, part 3

Knowing Kafka is a rollercoaster of emotions you can’t escape from no matter how much you beg to touch the ground.

friends with benefits, some domestic bliss before the storm, 6.5k words

part one part two

A/N: no smut warning woah…. actual development woahhh… cant believe i wrote this much without throwing in some sex i think i might like this criminal :/

“So… Can I come in?”

Kafka’s self-assured tone sounds lazy, indifferent to the predicament she finds herself in, and her lips are fixed in that practiced smile like she’s genuinely happy to see you despite bleeding through her shirt on your doorstep. You stare at her disheveled state, a hundred questions dancing on your tongue and unable to voice any of them. Instead, you open the front door wider and urgently usher her into your apartment with a hand wrapped around her uninjured bicep. Kafka makes a sound of surprise, though it fails to convey any. She lets herself be moved and quietly walks further inside your place.

“What happened?” The door shuts behind you, but you’re already leading her down the hallway towards your small bathroom. “Where do you even come from?!”

Your words quaver more than you would like as you flip the switch and motion for her to sit on the toilet seat. You can feel her eyes on you while you messily rummage through the cupboards beneath the sink, pushing old medicine bottles aside and cleaning products out of the way. The weight in your stomach grows heavier the longer you search for your first-aid kit, shutting the wooden cupboards and throwing open the one behind the mirror desperately. Apart from prescribed and over the counter medication, you find nothing that would be of help at this moment.

“Where is it?… Fuck, where is it?!” You lay your palms flat on the counter, head dropping low to think.

“Calm down,” Kafka says calmly, a slightly amused lilt in her voice, “I’m not going to die.”

You ignore her horrible attempt at reassuring you and try to recall when was the last time you used the bandages in the kit. You cut yourself cooking some weeks ago but you remember going to the bathroom to fish them out… It has to be around here somewhere. You bite your bottom lip anxiously, your pulse in your ears like an oppressive presence, and force yourself to take in a breath so you don’t succumb to your panic. If it’s not in this room, it must be laying in your storage closet. You spare the other woman a glance to find her already looking at you, obediently silent. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain but you know it’s a facade, you’re only taken aback by how easy it is for her to pretend that nothing is amiss. You straighten up, run a hand over your face to clear your head and order her not to move before walking out to find the aforementioned closet.

You make an even bigger mess of your storage closet as you search for the med kit, lifting boxes you don’t recognize and throwing plastic bags full of random trinkets out in the hallway. Your heart is in your throat, you can feel your eyes sting with the familiar weight of unshed tears, but you can’t stop looking. The thought of Kafka bleeding out before anything is done appears in your distressed mind and worsens your anxiety despite the probability of it happening being low. If this wound turns out to be something you can’t stabilize on your own, you’ll call the emergency services. You push aside a basket filled with yarn, letting out a shuddering breath at the sight of a clear case with a red cross on it. You waste no time grabbing it and heading for the bathroom, not bothering to close the closet door. When you walk back in, Kafka has managed to take off her bloody shirt and is facing the mirror over the sink, a hand still applying firm pressure on her shoulder. She turns your way to acknowledge you and takes a peek at the box in your hands.

“What are you doing? Sit down,” you swallow the lump in your throat so you don’t sound as strained.

Putting the kit on the counter and lifting the lid, you take out a few non-stick bandages. From your peripheral vision, you see Kafka complying with your shaky command and suppressing a chuckle. She hasn’t said much so far, which is uncharacteristic of her quick witted nature. You pick up a clean face towel from one of the shelves in the corner and rinse it with warm water. You step in front of her and gesture to the wound.

“Let me clean it.”

Once again, Kafka doesn’t protest. Her guarded gaze is on you, following every twitch of your brows and inaudible intake of breath, almost sizing you up as you lean in close to treat her wound. Her small smile is frozen on her face, and you can’t tell what it’s meant to convey anymore. She carefully takes her hand off her shoulder. The small puncture wound leaves a bloody trail down her skin, but even you can tell that it’s no longer bleeding profusely; the worries filling your head shrink and finally allow you to think more rationally. You bring the wet towel to her skin. You’re more meticulous with your hands than you thought you could be, softly washing away the specks of dried blood on her shoulder and around the injury. At this distance you see faint bluish veins that you had no reason to notice before, they slither down her neck and fade away above her collarbone. You wipe the deep red from her usually flawless skin, brushing over it with a mindfulness opposite from the lustful touches you’re accustomed to; your sole intention is to soothe her pain instead of taking pleasure from her. You are suddenly aware of her proximity in this unfamiliar context. She sits close without the headiness of sex, quiet and alert, and you can feel the warmth of her body from where you stand, your head is bowed and one of her thighs rests between yours.

Kafka looks up at you through her lashes but you have no way of understanding the light behind her eyes. You think perhaps all of her strength goes to withstand the pain she’s in. You still feel your beating heart against your ribcage, its erratic pace gently growing steady, while her chest rises and falls easily. Your breaths fill the silence around you. As the cloth delicately clears away the blood, you sneak a glance at her and your eyes meet. Your hand falters on her skin. Her rosy-lilac irises speak of tenderness that does not fit her, like a deceiving front to conceal her emotional distance. You see them but there is nothing beyond them, nothing that she allows you to glimpse at. Even so, you’re privy to a side of her you don’t yet know. There’s still traces of blood on her cheek she meant to wipe off before seeing you, and without thinking, you lift the towel higher to clean it off with a few smooth strokes. Kafka blinks once and you do the same rapidly, sharply turning away from her piercing stare to finish dressing her wound. In the stillness of your home, new truths are unknowingly written.

To stop the bleeding and prevent infections, you take out square non-adhesive bandages and peel one of them off. She’ll have to see an actual doctor for treatment, but you realize that the situation is not as bad as you initially thought. The sight of her bloody shirt and glove terrified you at first glance; you slowly realize that all of it must not have been hers. Unease settles in your stomach a second time. What could she possibly be implicated in to show up at your door with an injury like this?

“Why’d you come here?” You ask softly now that the worst has passed, eyes focused on carefully applying the bandage to her skin. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital for this?”

“Wasn’t serious enough,” Kafka replies nonchalantly. She gazes at your furrowing brows and incredulous expression like she’s been doing since you opened the door. She doesn’t answer the first question.

“Serious enough? Your shirt is dyed red. How’d you even get this?”

“It’s just a gunshot wound. A little Band-Aid should fix me right up.”

“What the fuck?!”

In your loud disbelief your fingers press into the small hole in her shoulder and Kafka winces, clenching her jaw tightly. You quickly withdraw your hand. The bandage is halfway peeling off from her skin and she brings a gloved hand up to properly apply it herself.

You step back from her frame, lips parted in incredulity. “You got shot?”

Kafka uses her free hand to peel off the second bandage and apply it over the first one, not looking at you as she does so. “Relax, the bullet didn’t go all the way in and I already took it out. It’s a minor scrape now.”

“You got shot?”

“Ugh, not so loud… I’ve had a long day.”

“You need to see a doctor. Are you insane?”

She raises her head towards you. “I don’t need a doctor, just a place to stay until tomorrow.”

You swallow thickly, lifting a hand to your hairline and pacing back and forth in the enclosed space. You can’t believe what she’s saying. No normal person just gets shot on a random Thursday and acts so nonchalant about it— having seen the proof of it, your mind is reeling with questions you’re not sure you want the answers to. Kafka has always had an air of mystery around her and the kind of confidence that makes you think that she’s invincible. Looking at her now, sitting in your bathroom after you tended to her wound and seemingly unbothered by the favor she’s asking of you, your chest constricts with a foreboding feeling you can’t name. Your gaze drops to her discarded shirt on the floor. You want to ask her what she’s done, whose blood is on her clothes, but your throat tightens as if begging you to keep your mouth shut. Kafka watches the emotions play out on your face and speaks up again.

“You stayed home.”

It takes a few seconds to meet her eyes, your reply agitated, “What?”

“Last time we talked, I told you not to go to work today. Despite your lack of trust in me, you stayed home. Why?”

She seems to be genuinely wondering why, but you don’t have an answer to give her. You don’t know. There was something about the seriousness with which she suggested you call out of work that made you uneasy come this morning, all traces of her usual aloofness were gone, even if she meant for her delivery to be casual so as to not rouse any suspicions. It was a split decision, you picked up your phone and called in sick before fully understanding the implications of your actions. You trusted your gut, not her.

“Something came up,” you lie instead and confront her, “You knew something was going to happen today— or planned to come by, that’s why you wanted me here, right? You know I get off work at 7 and I wouldn't have been home.”

Kafka gives nothing away but you know she doesn’t believe your white lie. If she feels anything about this show of distrust, she keeps her cards close to her chest. She shrugs with her uninjured shoulder.

“Maybe I just missed you.”

There it is, that flirty, teasing expression you’re used to seeing on her face. She’s deflecting and is for once doing a terrible job at it. She won’t tell you the truth, you know that much. Irritation burns the walls of your throat. In a way, you’re both lying to each other so you shouldn’t expect something you yourself are not ready to give her; then again, she’s the one who showed up at your door with a swelling injury and she has the guts to ask you to stay overnight while blatantly ignoring your attempts at finding out the circumstances of her situation. You don’t react to her taunt, you only cross your arms and stare at her, unamused. Your heartbeat has picked up several paces and you’re uncomfortable with the awareness of it drumming inside you. Kafka sighs in faux-exasperation.

“It’s only for tonight. I’ll be gone in the morning.” When you don’t reply, she hesitantly adds, “Please.”

You’re torn, her stubbornness will keep her from seeking a medical expert and you have no idea what she did to get it in the first place. Either way, she’s putting herself in danger, and if you let her stay for a while at least you can make sure she doesn’t worsen her condition before her wound stops bleeding completely… You run a hand over your face. Might as well make dinner for two.

Kafka’s in the shower and you’re chopping the vegetables you bought earlier this afternoon, your mind a few miles away as you move efficiently around the kitchen. You told her that if she was going to sleep over, she should change into more comfortable clothes. Weirdly, she didn’t make any lewd comments and simply accepted the oversized shirt and plaid pyjama pants you gave her before walking out of the bathroom.. She must have a lot on her mind too, you suppose. Maybe she’ll be more inclined to share a little later. The pasta is currently boiling so you get started on the sauce, letting it simmer on the stove while you take care of the veggies you’ll be steaming to eat as a side. The running water quickly becomes background noise while you busy yourself, a sound you’re not very used to hearing when you’re not the one showering, but the pitter-patter relaxes you a touch. You’re no longer on the edge of an anxiety attack, though worry still resides in the depths of your heart considering the situation you find yourself in. You try to focus on the dinner you’re cooking instead of the bloodstained memory of Kafka’s clothes. They’re in the washing machine now, but you remember how soaked they were vividly, crimson and haunting. You instantly thought the worst, and when suddenly confronted with the prospect of losing her, you panicked. Anyone would have reacted the same in the face of a bleeding person, you tell yourself, but you can’t deny that the thought deeply unnerves you.

You don’t register the sound of the water being turned off. You stir the rosé sauce and lower the heat under the vegetables, then incorporate the pasta into the creamy goodness. The smell of freshly cooked pasta fills your nose and reminds you of how little you ate today. You take out two plates from a cabinet and pour a generous serving in each one, adding a little more vegetables for yourself. You’re gently laying them on the kitchen island in the middle of the room when Kafka walks in with her hair still damp from the shower. Her face is bare, her long locks loose past her shoulders, and she’s wearing the clothes you lent her. The shirt hangs around her thighs over the cotton pants, big enough to be cozy on her. She looks… mundane, more refreshed than an hour ago. In such plain attire, she doesn’t seem as enigmatic or intimidating, but rather like your average citizen. It’s a harsh contrast to the way she presents herself and the cocky, in control woman you usually see. She strides into the kitchen and leans on the island to glimpse at the food you made. You don’t realize that you’re staring until she looks at you and raises an eyebrow, a small confident smile on her lips.

“See something you like?”

You avert your gaze and turn around to take out the parmesan from the fridge. Your skin warms up from the embarrassment of getting caught, but you manage to hide your flustered expression from her sight. Your stomach buzzes with a feeling you attribute to bashfulness. This is yet another side of Kafka you’re discovering, she’s never stayed until morning light before. You’ve long exceeded the limits of what you’re familiar with tonight, the feeling is the same as the night you undressed her for the time; excitement and nervousness swirled in your belly, each caress revealing inches of unexplored skin to your eager touch. You face her again and find that in this moment, you feel no disquiet.

“Is that for me?” Kafka sits on the stool across from you and points to one of the plates.

You grate some parmesan on top of the pasta before pushing the portion towards her. She stares at it for a few seconds then lifts her questioning eyes to yours. She seems to hesitate for the time it takes you to pull out a fork from a drawer and give it to her, but she eventually thanks you quietly. She means it for more than dinner. You nod once in acknowledgement.

You take a seat on the stool next to her and glance at the way she turns the fork over in her hand, looking at the food in search of answers instead of eating it. For a couple minutes there’s only the sound of metal on ceramic as you eat while Kafka is lost in thought, absentmindedly picking at her vegetables. After swallowing another bite, you decide that you’re sick of the awkward silence.

“You don’t eat pasta?”

Kafka blinks. In an instant, her cryptic smile stretches her lips and she stabs some pasta onto her fork, sticking it into her mouth. Her face lights up after the first chew. “Mmm. Never had a home cooked meal that actually tastes like food.”

“Really?”

“I’m not much of a cook.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She purses her lips, silverware hovering in the air, though she’s not offended.

“I just can’t picture you wearing an apron.”

“That’s because you usually picture me wearing nothing.”

You make a face but don’t refute her point, to which Kafka’s smile widens an inch. You stuff food into your mouth to give you time to think of a reply. She watches you with an amused look, leaning her chin in her hand.

“Not even a little protest…”

“Oh, shut up,” you shot back indignantly, “should’ve dropped the bottle of hot sauce on your plate…”

Kafka’s deep chuckle compels you to look at your dinner instead of her. “Makes no difference to me. My pain tolerance is pretty high, it might make the flavors pop out a bit more.”

You’re reminded of how easily she kept her composure earlier, as if getting shot at is a regular occurrence for her. Flashes of her bleeding shoulder come back to your mind and you quiet down a bit, poking a broccoli with the tip of your fork. Kafka immediately senses the shift in your mood. She pauses, watches you toy with the vegetable for a short moment, then twirls her own fork in her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she reads your mind effortlessly, “a scrape like that will heal in no time and will barely leave a scar. Besides, you won’t care much for it the next time I’m undressing in front of you.”

You roll your eyes at the innuendo but it successfully brings you out of your thoughts for the time being. You lightly shake your head.

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?”

“Not the only thing…” she drawls, but the way her gaze drops to your chest and leisurely trails up to stare into your eyes, the beginnings of a smirk on her lips, suggests otherwise. She rhythmically taps the island’s surface with a finger.

“...Just eat your food.”

Kafka laughs softly and complies. You’re thankful for her restraint to make a dirty joke. As you both eat, the atmosphere around you shifts into a comfortable space you don’t feel the need to fill with mundanities. Still, you end up telling her about yourself after some prompting, about your friends, how it felt to move away from your parents and get your own place— even the doubts about your career and how you don’t think it’s something you want to do anymore. Kafka watches you all the while, her cheek in her palm, and comments on certain things but mostly keeps quiet. You don’t realize how much you’ve confided because she’s surprisingly an excellent listener and you get a little high from her undivided attention. Your almost empty plates lie forgotten on the kitchen island. You turn on the stool to face her fully at some point, your knees brushing her thigh, and the casual, innocent contact makes your heart race. Her presence is just as exciting outside of the context of a hookup, your pulse creates a melody for this moment. Unbeknown to you, you've already made up your mind; she looks prettier under the kitchen lights at night.

“You should quit,” Kafka repeats the advice she told you days ago, following the movement of your head as it tips backwards in exasperation. “You can make money doing anything, you might as well enjoy what you do.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue, “my life is stable as is. I don’t even know what I want— it would be so irresponsible to drop everything just because I’m not fully satisfied with how things are now.”

“Then find out what you want and execute it.”

You sigh loudly, leaning on the island to rest your forehead on your arm. She makes it sound easy but quitting your research job in an engineering department might damage the fragments of relationship you have with your parents. You only see them a couple times a year, sometimes for a week during the summer, but they make sure to let you know how proud they are that the money they invested in you is paying off. You know they can’t control you anymore and yet, the guilt of them struggling to put you through school is ingrained in your gray matter. Despite the heavy weight they constantly put on your shoulders, you truly do want to please them. You moved to another corner of the world and can still hear your mother’s disapproving voice in your ears.

“I wish I knew if whatever I end up doing is the right choice,” you mutter, laying your chin on your forearm and staring straight ahead. “It’d be nice to know how this all ends.”

Kafka doesn’t respond immediately. She ponders for a while, fingers drumming on the stainless steel.

“Mmm. There’s more joy to be found in the unknown, I think,” she says after a pause. “More excitement.”

“More anxiety too.”

“They often come together, don’t they? Both make you feel alive, having one without the other might breed a certain… emptiness.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve clearly never felt anxious.”

Kafka only smiles softly. “In any case, you can’t live your life fulfilling other people’s wishes. I’ve never found selfishness to be ugly.”

Once the plates and pans are washed half an hour later, you stop by the bedroom to pick up a blanket and a pillow for Kafka to sleep with. You walk back into the living room, items under your arms, to see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, TV remote in hand. The screen is bright in the dim light and illuminates the room around it, painting moving shadows on the walls. You put the pillow down on the armrest with the folded blanket over it. Kafka is scrolling through your streaming applications and stops to acknowledge you.

“Want to watch something?” She asks. “I don’t remember the last time I sat down for a full movie.”

The invitation is so ordinary that you hesitate for a few seconds. Watching a movie after cooking her dinner…? A corner of your mind is screaming that this sounds like a casual date but you quickly shake that thought away for its absurdity. She needed a place to stay for the night, that’s all. Once again, she’s more using you than anything else, you’re a safe place to come to because you have trouble refusing her. You prove your own theory right by accepting her offer and closing the hallway and kitchen lights before taking a seat next to her, putting a reasonable distance between you. You fold your legs on the couch and lay a forearm on the armrest as Kafka continues to scroll through the different apps. She lets out comments like “sounds boring” and “ugh” after skipping certain movies. She’s mostly talking under her breath, eyes fixed on the TV screen. The blue light applies a similar hue to her skin tone and adds vitality to her irises, they appear more vivid and alert. The sharp shadows in her hair are even darker against such a vibrant source of light and the sight of her brings to mind a beautifully composed photograph. You take a mental picture of her like this, in sleepwear with her hair free of the ponytail she puts it in every day, staring intently at the screen like a kid who’s been allowed to stay up past her bedtime.

“What about a horror movie?” You propose, taking your eyes off her frame to look at the TV.

“No. They’re never scary. This one looks less mediocre than the others.”

You read the synopsis of a psychological thriller together. The movie doesn’t particularly speak to you but you tell her it seems nice anyway. You’re not surprised to learn that she enjoys mind games. Kafka adjusts her position on the couch so that she’s mimicking your own and presses play, leaning an elbow on the armrest to rest her cheek on top of her fist. You try to focus on the movie, the pacing is too slow to catch your tired mind’s attention for more than ten minutes at a time, and an hour passes with you sneaking glimpses at the woman next to you from your peripheral vision. She’s not close enough that you can feel her warmth like you could in the bathroom earlier, but the air around you feels the same; a sort of domestic intimacy that has no place between the two of you because you can’t imagine meaning that much to someone like her. You can’t snuff it out, no matter how many times you tell yourself to look at the scene in front of you. Since she’s waltzed into your kitchen hours ago, you can’t help noticing habits that give you the false impression that you know her. Her fingers twitch when she’s lost in thought, they typically drum on whatever surface she can get her hands on or subtly move in the air like she’s conducting a symphony. She eats her vegetables last. She doesn’t shy away from eye contact when you speak. These little things don’t make up a person, and yet, for someone who doesn’t reveal much of herself, they’re quirks that few get to see.

Kafka is watching the movie with an unimpressed expression, which has you suppressing a smile. Occasionally, she comments on whatever is happening—mostly complaints about the direction the movie is going or how much better it would be if the human responses were more realistic. You simply nod along, already somewhat dozing off near the climax of the story. The aftermath of your anxious evening is catching up with you and you’re in a comfortable enough position at the moment, it doesn’t take long for fatigue to descend on your body. Your eyelids can’t bear their own weight and you rest your eyes for a couple of minutes, leaning your head on the armrest. You don’t witness how the movie ends. You’re falling asleep on the couch, the TV acting like background noise, and you forget that this is where Kafka is supposed to sleep. You don’t register soft fabric being laid over you, only catch sweet notes of vanilla belonging to the soap you use in the shower.

A sore ache in your neck pulls you out of a dream whose contents now elude you. Your brows twist indignantly, a muted groan vibrates along your throat, and you drowsily turn over on the couch to face the back cushions. You hear the bathroom door open and close, which eventually reminds you that you’re not alone in the house. Your eyes slowly blink open at the thought, momentarily blinded by the living room’s semi-darkness. It takes a minute to regain your bearings, you turn over a second time and notice soft threads of morning light seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. It must be a new day already, though not very early based on how gloomy it still is outside. You have the reflex to check your phone for the time and realize that you don’t remember its last location. The cozy blanket falls to your lap when you sit up to look around the room. You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you recall the events of last night; Himeko calling, opening the door to a disheveled Kafka, rushing her to the bathroom for basic treatment… In between two of those, you must have discarded your phone somewhere here out of panic and didn’t touch it once afterwards, too preoccupied by the dizzying sensation of finally seeing past Kafka’s usual demeanor. Pulling the blanket off of you, you quickly scan the coffee table and check the couch cushions in case you threw the device on it yesterday and it fell through the cracks. Your fingertips touch the silicone of your phone case deep between the cracks of back pillows. You only struggle to pull it out for a few seconds, sighing in relief when you have it back in your hands, Tapping open the screen, you learn that it is currently a little past 5 in the morning and curse under your breath at the reminder of work in a couple of hours after spending the night on your couch. You scroll down the notification screen to see if you got any last night.

You’re confused at the amount of text messages you didn’t receive due to your phone being on silent. You blink rapidly at the dozens of concerned texts wondering how you are coming from your friends and some coworkers you get along with. You got a message from Himeko right after you hung up on her, but it’s just three question marks in succession so you make a mental note to call her back this evening. Opening the multiple texts a coworker sent you, you don’t comprehend them immediately. Your thumb hovers over the screen as you read the words “Stellaron Hunters” and “infiltrated”, and in a moment of denial, you exit the conversation to open another from a friend repeatedly asking if you’re safe. They sent an article attached to the first message; it’s a publication dating from around 6 PM last night posted by an IPC affiliated news company popular in the city. You don’t feel the instant your chest stutters at its contents. Unblinking, you stare at the urgent sentences reporting an incursion in the building you’ve worked in for years by a group of people you’ve only vaguely heard of from gossip around the office. The Stellaron Hunters, interstellar criminals notorious for their worth in credits, had the means to break into the mechanical engineering research lab of the Intelligentsia Guild with the goal of stealing hardware for a machine you remember personally working on about 8 months ago. You were part of the team of researchers assigned to this project to make sure it was a viable one before it could be produced. Once the green light is given, it gets sent to the lab and is out of your hands. You recall doing extensive research for it in a small time frame because it was a priority for your supervisors to start working on it as soon as possible. Now, the key component was the target of a larceny.

As you read, the world outside of the screen and the muffling in your ears disappears. Your digit quivers over the words “multiple casualties”. Most of them are security guards who attempted to stop the thieves in action, but some of the engineers you once met in person have also been stated as losses. Your eyes sting from being kept open for longer than a minute, you can’t hear the trembling breaths clumsily tripping past your lips either. The death toll is 19 human lives— all for a piece of hardware. Your collar seemingly constricts your throat, choking you silent. You are trapped by sudden guilt, it teasingly snakes around your guts and squeezes them tight like tentacles around an easy prey. What-ifs rush at you as if mocking your cowardice; what if you hadn't worked on this project and hadn’t allowed it to see the day, what if you switched careers like you’ve been wanting to for a long time… You don’t look at your hands but your mind supplies the image of them dipped in blood regardless. The white page of the article burns your retinas, yet you scroll further down to read the end of it. The IPC has taken matters into their own hands and sent out forces to apprehend the culprits while they still hide in the city, which does nothing to alleviate your distress because the Stellaron Hunters wouldn’t have earned a reputation if they were so easily caught. You dread the idea of facing your coworkers again after such a tragic event, even more so the simple thought of walking back into that building knowing what transpired there. You finally squeeze your eyes shut with a shaky exhale, trying not to picture red stained floors and mechanical equipment. When you open them again, the attached pictures at the end of the publication freezes the blood in your veins.

This is your first time associating faces to the group of criminals who are only ever mentioned by their faction name. The phone screen turns dark from inactivity but the wanted poster is seared into the walls of your occipital lobe, creating a reality-perfect image of the woman’s enigmatic smile and unmistakable rosy irises. Your reflection stares back at you, expressing consternation, and in the same instant, the bathroom door opens again. Heeled footsteps make their way down the hallway like a foreboding rhythm, clacking across the wooden tiles on a mission to reach the front door. The weight on your chest grows heavier once they’re close, and they eventually come to a stop behind the couch you’re sitting on. Your fingers tremble at the sound of her voice near your ears.

“You’re awake.”

It hits you, then. What happened last night, how Kafka received that gunshot wound, her advice from earlier this week—- it was a warning rolled in a layer of passivity, a peculiar request she couldn’t tell you the extent of without revealing her hand. If you had gone to work yesterday, one of the casualties could have been you. Her and the Stellaron Hunters must have been planning this for a while, perhaps weeks or months. You feel as though you’ve fallen in the ocean from a great height in the middle of the night, an icy wave of hurt clogs your ears and has you succumbing under the tumultuous waters.

Kafka tilts her head to the side and makes a teasing remark about you not being fully up and about, rounding the couch to wave a gloved hand in front of your face. Your head mechanically turns to look up at her. She’s dressed in the clothes she wore yesterday that she put in the dryer as you were washing the dishes. Her hair is in its everyday loose ponytail, aside from the sunglasses over her head and down to her asymmetrical boots, she’s ready to go. Her coat is on, leading you to believe that she planned to slip away while you were still asleep. Kafka observes the brewing emotions on your face and the heavy rise of your chest, then takes a quick glance at the phone still in your hands. Her relaxed smile drops an inch. You stare at each other for a moment and she doesn’t say another word during that time, reading you through the purse of your lips and the contempt in your eyes. After a minute of quiet, she lazily crosses her arms under her breasts.

“You don’t seem scared,” she says without breaking eye contact, like she’s close to figuring you out but is missing an important variable.

You don’t dwell on the fact that you are indeed not afraid of her or what she’s capable of, mainly wounded by the amount of stuff she’s kept from you. If you knew who she was back in that store, you would have never let her approach you no matter how intriguing she looked. It’s as you think this that you realize something else; her efforts in pursuing you coincide with the time you had just finished working on that major project and you can’t help thinking that all of it might have been premeditated. Your stomach churns.

You manage to find your voice, swallowing once to wet your dry throat. “Were you never going to tell me?” Your sentence comes out weaker than it should have, bordering on pathetic affront.

“No.”

Her honesty gives you whiplash. For all she’s lied about and omitted, she chooses to be honest when it hurts the most.

“It was always going to play out like this,” she continues, “some things are inevitable and all possibilities are already written. This way is less gruesome than the others, don’t you think?”

“What does that mean?”

Kafka smiles with her eyes closed but instead of a comfortable familiarity, it raises the hair on your arms.

“Well, I’m happy to know that you heeded my advice. I even looked for you and got hurt in the process. Quite chivalrous of me, isn’t it?”

Her lighthearted comment sounds like it’s meant to assuage the maelstrom of feelings mounting inside of you. It is so ridiculous, so devoid of genuine meaning, that it only stokes the burning embers under your skin. You struggle to contain your outrage, the sight of her pleased smile and indifferent posture has your fingers curl into a fist.

“Aw, don’t make that face,” Kafka uncrosses her arms and pulls at the ends of one glove so it fits snuggly on her hand, “this is the best possible outcome. I made sure of it.”

“Out.” You’re surprised the word made it out of your clenched jaw, and by its frigidity. She looks you over and even after everything, you notice the slight dip of her lips. You repeat yourself. “Get out.”

“Still upset?”

“Leave, or I will tell the authorities where you are.”

In a flash, a light glimmers in Kafka’s eyes and her features twist with amusement. “Really? You’d be accused of complicity.”

You know that. Your anger is impulsive and a darker part of you wishes to cause her turmoil like the one she’s putting you through. Kafka watches you closely. Her attention doesn’t fluster you anymore. She finds whatever answer she’s seeking in the determined stare you’re giving her.

“Gutsy…” Her muttered reply is more directed at herself but betrays her attraction. Her eyelids drop as she glances at your lips, then she meets your gaze with a fake sigh. “Oh, fine. I’ll see you later, then.”

“No—”

Kafka lifts a hand up to wave at you cheekily and is outside the door before you can tell her that you don’t want to see her again.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #hsr x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you

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leahsfavefics · 16 days

Text

Midnight

Title: Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) fluff, smut

Word Count: 2,087

Posting Date: Sept 10, 2024

Summary: When menstrual cramps wake you in the night, your boyfriend decides to heal you in his own special way

NSFW Warnings: Oral (F), multiple orgasms, fingering, neck kisses

Author's Note: I wrote this all in one go and did not edit it, so forgive me for any errors!

A dull ache in your lower abdomen pulls you from a deep and restful sleep. Curling up, you fight a groan, not wanting to wake your boyfriend. He's sleeping soundly beside you, snoring ever so softly and not sprawling onto your side of the bed for once. He's usually one to toss and turn, even accidentally elbowing you in the nose once shortly after moving in together. When he woke and realized, he was horrified of course, terrified that he'd hurt you or upset you, even after you dissolved into laughter whilst wiggling your nose to get all the feeling back.

He was still tonight though, you were the one tossing and turning. You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it out slowly, trying to somewhat minimize the pain with your breath. Unfortunately, mother nature was not going down without a fight. Gently, you peeled back the blanket and slid out of bed, making as little noise as possible. You padded to the kitchen softly, popping two tylenols into your mouth before downing a glass of water. You pushed a hand against your stomach, the pain still twisting your insides like a knife. At least now you just had to wait for the meds to kick in. However long that would take.

You crept back into your bedroom and found Jungkook still sleeping. though he'd moved and had thrown his arm across your usual spot. You lifted the blanket, his tattooed arm along with it, and climbed back into bed beneath them, turning on your side so his arm was slung around your waist with your back to his chest.

You tried to stay like that. You really did. But the cramps were making you restless, and you couldn't get comfortable to save your life. You tried laying on your back, your stomach, facing Jungkook, turning back away. After a few minutes of your restlessness you heard his voice in your ear.

"Baby," it was a soft mumble, nothing more, so quiet that you almost wondered if he was talking in his sleep. That theory was shattered when he spoke again. "What's going on?"

You froze, cringing as you realized you'd woke him. "I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Mmmm, can't," he replied, his lips at your throat as he nuzzled closer. There was nothing sexual about it, he was just seeking out your scent, trying to get comfortable. "Not if you keep tossing and turning like that."

"I'm sorry," you said again. "I have cramps, but I took some meds already. Just waiting for them to kick in and then hopefully I will be able to get back to sleep."

"I thought you didn't get a period anymore? IUD?"

"I don't, but sometimes the symptoms are still a bitch."

He didn't answer for a while, and you relaxed thinking he'd drifted back to sleep all on his own. Finally, he spoke again, his lips now at your ear, close enough that they brushed the shell of your ear and sent tingles down your spine. "You know, they say that an orgasm helps relieve cramps."

You huffed out a laugh in response. "Shut up."

"I'm serious."

You rolled your eyes, even though it was dark and you were facing away from him. "You just woke up with a hard on and want to get your dick wet."

"Baby!" he scoffed. "Not true, I wouldn't do that when you just told me you're in pain. Here, feel. Soft as dough." Grabbing your hand, he placed it against his groin to prove that he was telling the truth.

"That's a gross metaphor," you said, pulling your hand back. "And the answer is no. You have to get up so early for that music video shoot or photoshoot or whatever it is. I'm not going to keep you up any later."

"Hmm," he settled in closer, placing one hand on your hip and rubbing circles with his thumb. His hand began to move down your leg, and around until his fingers traced where your legs pressed together. "I think it will be a performance booster. I'll have that afterglow, you know?"

"Jungkook!" You gasped, turning to face him as he laughed. "That really is your favorite word now isn't it?"

He shrugged, a carnal grin on his face. "What can I say? It's nice to be able to put a word to something I'm so familiar with because I see it so often."

You had no words, so you just laughed against his chest. "I'm serious, though, y/n," he continued, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving lower, until his mouth was at your neck. "If you keep tossing and turning I'm not going to get much sleep regardless. You might as well let me help you out here."

His tongue darted out against the hollow of your neck, making you shiver and crumbling your remaining resolve. "Fine," you said. "But make it quick."

He deepened the kisses against your neck, alternating between sucking hard and licking gently, while he pushed your legs apart and slipped his tattooed fingers inside your panties.

"You're already wet, baby," he groaned against your collarbone. You merely shuddered in response as he rolled slick fingers against your clit. Warmth filled your body, spreading out from your core and chasing away the shadows of the pain. Your core was on fire, pulsating from his touch as his fingers whirled in quick circles over your swollen clit. "Can I have a taste?" he murmured.

You nodded frantically before realizing his face was buried between your breasts and he couldn't see. "Yes. Please," you whimpered.

He moved down your body at once, peeling off your underwear and audibly sighing in relief once he was eye level with your bare, sopping cunt. "There you are, baby," he said, closing his eyes and inhaling. This worshipping of your sex used to make you feel embarrassed when you first started sleeping together, exposed. But over the years you've come to appreciate how vocal he is about his attraction to you.

When he leaned in and placed that first gentle lick against your clit, your eyes fluttered shut, head collapsing against the pillow with a moan. He moved lower, running his tongue around the perimeter of your hole before darting inside and fucking you with it while his nose bumped against your clit.

"Jesus Christ Jungkook, don't stop," you said, fisting his long black locks between your fingers as you bucked against his face. His tongue slipped out, and you were about to complain when he dipped lower, tracing your asshole before placing the tip of his tongue firmly against it and running it up the length of your sex until finishing at your clit.

"Do you want fingers?" he asked, mouth full of your pussy.

"I just want to come," you whined, too delirious to answer the question properly.

He chuckled, and it vibrated against you. You pushed your pussy harder against his face, enough that he pinned you to the bed with a firm hand. "Stay," he said, no room for argument in his tone. You shuddered again, feeling wetness gush from you as he took charge.

He ran his fingers over your sex, playing with your slick until two fingers were soaked. After what felt like an eon, he finally slipped them inside you. You tensed at once as he began to pump in and out, returning his mouth to your clit and sucking. "Close," you whimpered. "Close!"

He didn't answer, but his eyes flickered shut at your taste and he hummed, sending you firmly over the edge. Your toes curled as your orgasm slammed into you, tensing every muscle in your body until you came apart in shuddering waves.

Your chest heaved as you came back down to earth, blinking your eyes open. Jungkook was resting his cheek against your thigh, smiling up at you with a love drunk expression on his face. "Better?" he asked, his eyes sleepy and the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness.

Mentally cataloguing your body, you searched for the cramps that had been plaguing you until so recently. "Much better," you answered with a smile.

"Good, then go to sleep. I'll take care of this and get cleaned up and then I'll join you," he began to climb out of bed, his erection clearly fighting at the seams of his briefs.

"That's silly, just fuck me," you said, catching his arm and pulling him back towards you.

"You need to sleep," he answered, smoothing your hair and pressing a kiss to your lips. His lips were sweet with your own taste, and it made you want him even more.

"I can taste myself on you," you murmured. You slipped a hand inside his briefs, caressing his length as you darted your tongue out to taste yourself again. It was his turn to shudder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Alright," he said. "You win. But like you said earlier, make it quick. We both need to sleep."

"Just cum fast, then it will be quick," you answered, shoving his briefs down to get to his cock. You got them as far as his knees before he brushed your hands away, laughing and standing to kick them fully off.

He crawled back into bed beside you, guiding you onto your side and pressing his chest to your back, so similar to the position you'd been sleeping in earlier. Until he grabbed one knee, lifting your leg up with one hand while he guided his dick until your cunt with the other. He eased in, moaning as your pussy swallowed him to the hilt. Biting down on your shoulder, he began to pick up the pace.

The hand holding your knee traced down along the inside of your thigh until it reached your apex. You jumped as he placed his fingers against your clit, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. Each press of his thick cock inside you had your body priming for the next release.

"You're going to need to come soon, baby," Jungkook moaned against your neck. "Eating you turned me on so much, I'm already holding back."

You nodded, grinding against him as he pounded into you from behind while his fingers swirled against you, chasing that high. Mere moments went by before the tsunami of pleasure overtook you once again, this time sweeping Jungkook away as well. You cried out his name while he grunted, rhythm growing sporadic as he emptied himself into you until he finally stilled.

You laid there for a moment, both trying to catch your breath and fight off the incoming desire to sleep. As your eyes began to flutter shut, satiated at last, you realized it was a losing battle. But, you knew you needed to get cleaned up or you'd hate yourself when you saw the sheets in the morning. Or, worst case scenario, got a UTI. You peeled yourself away from Jungkook, who's skin was sticking to yours with rapidly drying sweat.

"Uh uh," he tsked. "Lay back down. Just go to sleep."

"I have to get cleaned up," you protested.

"I'll take care of it," he said, hopping out of bed nimbly. You shrugged and listened, figuring there was no point in you both leaving the comfort of the bed if he was promising to take care of you.

A minute went by and you guessed he was cleaning himself off as well, before he finally returned with a damp wash cloth. He crawled back into bed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty brow before reaching between your legs with the cloth.

He brushed against your clit on accident and you jerked away, feeling very sensitive and completely sexed out. "Careful," you whined.

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered, brushing against you more carefully to clean you up. When he was finished, he tossed the wash rag across the room towards the closet, eliciting a noise of protest from you. "It's fine. I'll grab it in the morning when I'm up. That's only like three hours from now anyway."

You sank back into the pillow, too satiated and exhausted to complain. "Thank you," you said, drifting back to sleep already, pain free and happy.

He climbed back into bed beside you and you rolled over, burying your face in his wide, muscled chest. You pressed a kiss over the spot that contained his heart as he slung an arm over you. "Anything for you, y/n."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #leahsfavefics #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

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b33zlebubz · 7 months

Note

That last ask inspired me so how about reader gets REALLY bad migraines and just disappears for the night, missing dinner and then breakfast the next morning. The team goes to investigate!

yet another drabble I wrote under the counter at work oupe

TAGS: unedited, silly shenanigans, fluff, platonic found family, no content warnings RECKLESS ABANDON MASTERLIST

It seems they all suddenly want to pay you a visit and you couldn’t be more annoyed.

All the stress of everything seems to have all caught up to you at once. With the lights too bright, your stomach attacking your insides, and the invisible band that seems to be continuously tightening around your skull—you’re practically bedridden.

Slowly, the team begins to notice, and it starts with Price. You’re not at dinner and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

He figures, at first, you’ve fallen asleep. You don’t answer the door when he knocks so he leaves you to get some rest—knowing you need it. He shoots you a text to let you know that him and the others will be busy with briefings and training the rest of the night to which you respond, hours later, explaining your predicament.

The next day, Gaz is at your door. His knock is softer than Price’s. This time, you sigh and answer from your bed.

“What?” Your voice is gravelly and muffled by the pillow your face is pressed into.

“Heading off-base for breakfast if you wanna come along,” he says, before adding, “Soap and Ghost are with me.”

“I’ll pass.”

There’s muffled whispering on the other side of the door. British concern and Scottish protest. Then, Ghost’s voice comes through the door.

“You alright in there, kid?”

“Fine,” you answer. “Sick.”

Deciding not to press, they all decide to leave you alone for the time being—their voices fading to hush whispers as they disappear down the hallway. You’re quick to sink back into a restless sleep, the uncomfortable cot stiff on your back and the pillow too flat for your neck. Your peace doesn’t last long, though, because about two hours later you hear another knock.

You wait for the sound of a voice, or maybe a second knock, but they never come. Instead, there’s just the shuffle of a bag.

Your curiosity, momentarily, outweighs your pain.

Slowly you get to your feet. Deciding against the dreaded lightswitch, you grab for your phone and use the light of your lockscreen to guide you to your door. Then, slowly, you turn the doorknob and peak outside.

Soap is crouched in front of your door. Surprised, he freezes in the act of placing a plastic bag on the ground—and you both just stare at each other for a moment.

“What are you doing?” You ask slowly.

He scoffs. Instead of leaving the bag on the ground, he tosses it to your chest and you catch it.

“The Captain said you were havin’ migraines,” he pushes himself to his feet.

“So?”

“So—I know the shit they’ll give you down at the med-bay doesn’t do fuck,” he gestures to the bag. “So me and Gaz went and got you shit that does.”

You eye him suspiciously, the very prospect of him doing something nice for you foreign and off-putting. You’re shocked, to put it simply, after having done nothing but fight with him since you’ve arrived on base. When you don’t immediately reply, Soap takes a breath.

“Anyway, I have shit to do,” he shoves his hands in his pockets before he turns to leave. “And you’re welcome.”

You stare after him for a moment, still processing the interaction. It’s only when he’s sauntered off down the hallway do you retreat back into your room and open the bag, expecting cheap, off-brand Tylenol or maybe some tea. Instead, what you find causes you to let out an audible sigh of relief.

Excedrin, a water bottle, and a cold compress. Thank fucking god.

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfiction #platonic fic

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justmeinadaze · 9 months

Text

Little Girl Gone (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the story I mentioned yesterday! Trying something new for me but I hope y'all enjoy it. I've always found Mafia Eddie incredible sexy <3. This is an AU with a mixture of Stranger Things you will definitely recognize :). I wrote with the idea that Hawkins is a big city so keep that in mind lol

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (slightly mean) Steve Harrington/ Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, use of the color system, degrading if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, etc.

ANGST, Obviously (and not just because I am me lol), Eddie runs a rival gang in Hawkins and is in love with Steve (Romeo and Juliet style), Steve mentions being jumped and Eddie retaliates getting hurt in the process, mentions of murders by Eddie, Reader takes care of them both performing surgery on the gangster, guns are pulled and our boys are threatened, cliff hanger ending because I can.

Word Count: 8284

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster Run little girl, run little girl, bang, ha."

“Officer Steve Harrington.”, you read from his chart as you enter the exam room before flashing him a big smile. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N. How can I help you today?”

“My, uh, Captain said I needed to come get a checkup. I was wounded in the line of duty a few days ago.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”

“Does that matter?”, he snapped.

You dealt with sassy patients on the regular. It came with the territory especially in the area your office was located in. In this part of the city, your clinic usually catered to people who didn’t want to check in at a regular hospital because their name could get dinged for other offenses. You always felt like everyone deserved care so when you opened your clinic, you made sure to do what you could within the means and resources you had available.

Officers normally never entered your building but within these past few months you had seen them more and more frequently. You had heard rumors of a new gang in the area trying to make things more…democratic…so there was less chaos in the streets but in turn that brought more of a police presence because most of the people around here hated being threatened into submission reacting violently if need be.

Thankfully, you weren’t easily shaken so this admittedly good-looking man of the law raising his voice didn’t frighten you one bit.

“It does if you want me to assess you properly.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I like to be polite at first. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or should I mark in your file here that you refused to answer so your Captain can deal with you?”

Steve’s amber eyes scanned you over briefly before a small smirk painted his beautiful lips.

“I got jumped by one of the rival gangs in the area. Beat me up pretty good.”

Sitting in your wheely chair, you slid toward him and carefully lifted off his shirt, his face wincing as he lifted his arms. Large purple bruises were splattered along his ribs and around to his back. Just from the wounds alone, you could tell he was kicked and punched repeatedly. His face had some scratches and swelling but it looked like nothing compared to his upper torso.

“Oh wow. I’m so sorry. Did you go to the hospital?”

“I did. They did some X-rays and shit. Thankfully nothing was broken but, obviously, moving around has been hard.”

“Beside the bruising, have you experienced any other pain? Like a sharp stabbing pain in your side or anything like that?”

“Uh, no. Just emotional pain.”, he chuckles as his eyes look past you into a memory.

“Ok, I’ll get you some medicine I think will help as well as some cream to sooth the pain of those bruises and swelling. I’ll be right back.”

You weren’t gone long but as you were returning you could vaguely hear his voice through the door between you both.

“Naw, she said she’s going to get me some meds and shit…Baby! Seriously, you worry too much. I’m fine… No, NO. Don’t you dare go over there or I swear God—” Hastily, he hung up his phone when he heard you knock and reenter the room he was in. “Sorry. That was my, um, my boss checking in. Just reiterated what you told me.”

“Good. Now this will help with the pain…”, you instruct as you hand him some medication before flashing him the cream. “…and this will help with the swelling. Just put this on your bruises every six hours and you’ll be good to go in no time.”

Opening the bottle, you squeeze some of the medicine in your hand, and gently rub it along his admittedly muscular abs.

“You’re, um, going to feel it tingle a bit and feel warm but after a few moments it will cool down.”

That smirk you saw previously appeared on his lips again when he caught you staring as your hands slowly rubbed along his skin.

“That feels really good actually. Your hands not the cream.”

“Hm. I’m sure your girlfriend touches you enough.” Steve raises an eyebrow at your insinuation. “I mean unless you call your captain ‘baby’.”

A slightly nervous sigh leaves you as the officer’s grin grows and his eyes meet yours.

“Hm. Bad girl listening in on my phone calls. Do you always misbehave like that?”

“This is my clinic, Officer Harrington. I can do whatever I want especially when I have signs everywhere that say, ‘No Cell Phones in the Exam Room.’”

His palm abruptly takes hold of your wrist, pulling you closer to him till your nose was just above his own.

“This may be your clinic, honey, but these are my streets. I keep order here.”

“I think the gangs here would disagree.”

“Pfft, like you know anything about what goes on out there.”, he spits as he lets you go.

After throwing a scowl his way, you pretend to be preoccupied with washing your hands.

“I know that when I first moved here, the fatality rate in this area was extremely high until that new gang leader took over the Munson crew. I believe, if the rumors are correct, the new boss is actually the son of the old leader Al Munson. Since the son has taken over, oddly enough, the streets have become safer. More kids come out to play and I’ve seen less addicts in the last couple of months.”

As you dry your hands and turn to face him, you notice the hardened look on the officer’s face as he listens to you speak.

“I also know there have been more of a police presence on this side of town as well. I’ve seen a lot of innocent civilians put in ambulances or worse due to the push back of change. Tell me, Officer Harrington, which side are you on? Which gang did that to you? The Munson’s or The Carver’s?”

“I’m on the side of peace. That’s my job.”, he seethes through gritted teeth.

“Yeah… you’re good to go, officer. Have a nice day.”, you growl in annoyance as you leave the room without waiting for him to retort.

##############

Today had been an incredibly long day. After your appointment with Officer Harrington, you had back-to-back visits from so many clients just needing a little bit of help. Your mind was racing as you and your staff did what you could but the truth was you desperately needed more funding. You were running low on supplies and the equipment you had wasn’t the best. It killed you to see your patient’s sad faces when you strongly recommended they head to the nearest hospital for certain tests that you just couldn’t provide at that time.

Your mind was still racing as you began to gather your things to head out for the evening which is most likely why you didn’t even hear him till you exited your office and were met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not…I’m not here to hurt you. We need help.”, Steve panted with a heavy breath as the weapon shook in his hand. He was still dressed in the uniform he was wearing when you last saw him but now it was stained in blood and sweat.

“I-I-I…”

Roughly, he took hold of your bicep and dragged you to your waiting room where another man was sitting with his head leaning against the wall. You knew he wasn’t a cop because he wasn’t dressed like the man beside you but instead in an expensive looking black suit with the white button up shirt underneath his jacket now stained with red. You noticed immediately his palm was holding his side and that area of his clothing was a darker shade than all the rest.

“I can’t help with a wound like that. He needs a hospital.”

“Oh you don’t say?”, he snarled as he tugged you to his chest. “If I could have taken him to a fucking hospital I would have! But I brought him to you, now HELP HIM!”

“Steven!”, the long-haired man grumbled as he looked your way. “Be nice. She’s just being…honest. Right, sweetheart?” He sighs when you nod and tries to get to his feet but the officer is quicker, running to his side to help him stand. “See, the thing is, princess, if I go to a hospital I’ll die anyway…because they will put me…in jail especially after they find out…what-what I did tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. He’s losing blood and fast!”

Swallowing nervously, you step forward to unbutton his shirt and examine the cut you found. He needed stitches as soon as possible and most likely a blood transfusion unless someone got to his wound fast enough. Gesturing them both to follow you, you power walk to an exam room and begin searching for supplies as Steve carefully places the man on the table. While he removes the bloody clothes from his top half, you prep a syringe.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“No. What is that, that you’re giving him?”

“It’s a pain killer. It won’t be as strong as ones at a hospital but…”

As you stick the needle into his stomach just above his cut, he flinches causing Steve’s expression to flood with worry as he moves the man’s hair out of his face. After quickly cleaning the area, you let out a long sigh as you glance their way.

“Even with the shot, this is going to hurt a lot I’m afraid. I’ll try to go as fast as I can but, officer, if you can distract him that may help.”

The man on the table chuckles as he turns his head towards his friend.

“She keeps calling you ‘officer’. Did… you not tell her your name? Or did you… scare her too much to use it?” He cringes as he hisses once you begin sewing in his stitches. “You like to…pretend to be so badass…but we both know you’re a…sweetheart.”

“Pretend to be a badass, huh? You’re one to talk.”, Steve scolds in a light sounding tone as he softly places his forehead against his own. “Eddie, I told you not to go over there.”

“They tried to hurt what was mine…”, he growled low in his throat even making you pause for a moment before focusing again on your task. “They wanted to send a message, well, message received.”

“I could have handled it.”

Grabbing Steve’s cheeks roughly, he brings his lips to his own.

“No one takes my things and NO ONE hurts what’s mine. You belong to me, baby, and I promised I’d keep you safe.”

Finishing his sutures, you bandage him up and wrap some gauze around his lower waist.

“Thank you.”, he whispers exhaustedly as he extends his shaky hand towards you. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe and I promise neither of us are going to hurt you. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” Your eyes widen as you slowly back away from them causing Steve to rise to his feet. “Ah. I see you’ve heard of me. Then you know you can trust me.”

Eddie tries to stand as well but sways before Steve steadies him.

“You…you should be in a hospital. That wound needs to be looked after and you need to rest.”

“I can take care of him.”

“Steve…”

“No. No you can’t. That’s why you brought him to me.”, you sass in frustration as you try to display an air of confidence. Both men scan you over as they try to get a read on you as you continue. “If you refuse to go to a hospital, then give me your address and I can come—”

“No. No addresses. We can’t have you giving it to the police.”

“Oh you mean you?!”

You and Steve square off, tightening your stances as you glare at each other until Eddie laughed beside you both.

“Brave girl with attitude. I like it.”

“I don’t. Little girl needs to be put in her place.”

“I highly doubt you’re the man to do that.”, you sass.

“Yeah well good thing there’s two of us, honey, and trust me, whatever I start Eddie can definitely finish.”

Sighing, you fold your arms as you argue with the internal dialogue inside your head.

“You can come to my apartment but I have one condition. After he heals, I never want to see either of you again.”

Their eyes meet for a moment before Eddie finally nods.

“You have a deal, princess.”

############

“Um, I don’t have a spare room or anything but the couch is comfortable. Just make sure to stay on your back if you can.” Eddie nods as Steve places him down and hastily begins removing the gear attached to him. “Let me grab some blankets and pillows.”

Disappearing into your bedroom, you grab any extra bedding you had and began to head their way but paused when you heard them talking.

“Why are you being mean to her? I thought you said she took care of you.”

“She did. I just… I was worried about you. It’s my job to take care of you to, honey.”

“And snapping at the woman who’s trying to help will do what exactly?” Steve laughs through his teeth at Eddie question. “I think it’s because you like her.”

“Pfft what?”

“Oh, look at Officer Harrington blushing.”, the long-haired man teases as he reaches out to touch the boy’s face. “I know I just met her and she was busy saving my life but I can see why…”, he chuckles before wincing as he grabs his side.

“Are you alright?”, you ask as you come back to the living room and kneel down on your knees in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve been through way worse than this.”

You take quick note of his wound before handing Steve the things you found, watching with fascination as he tosses the things for him to the side before placing the pillow on his lap and guiding the man back to lay down.

“If, um, if you notice it bleeding through or he starts getting a fever, come and get me immediately.”

The officer nods as he throws the blanket over Eddie and comfortingly rests his hand on his chest, his thumb gently running along the man’s tattooed skin.

***

Your alarm goes at 4am that morning, startling you as you shoot up right. Groggily, you shuffled to your bathroom and grabbed the items Eddie would need so you could change his bandages. Both men were fast asleep when you entered the living room, Steve still clinging to him with his other hand very close to where his gun was resting on the little table you had beside your couch.

“Mr. Munson?”, you whisper as you sit on the coffee table across from them. When he didn’t stir you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to visually take in one of the most notorious gangsters in the city. You had never seen a picture of him and he definitely wasn’t what you pictured when you heard the rumors from people in the clinic.

He did have an air of control surrounding him but his voice and face were incredibly soft especially when it came to Steve. You heard him get upset though so you imagined that amplified out in the streets and you hoped you never met that version of him. He had a lot of tattoos painting his upper torso that seemed completely random except for the symbol of his gang that was tattooed on many other men and women you had seen previously minus the tiny initials “S.H.” inscribed within the design.

Eddie was fairly muscular appearing more toned in his abs and upper arms. Slightly blocking your view was Steve’s massive palm over his chest, almost as if that was his way to make sure the man was still breathing. He had been exceptionally rude with you but with the gangster, he transformed before your eyes, becoming softer and listening to everything the other man said without question. They both obviously seemed to care strongly about each other which you found slightly amusing given their slight Romeo and Juliet story; one being a cop and the other a criminal.

“Mr. Munson.”

Extending your hand, you tried gently shaking his upper shoulder and in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and held you tightly as he raised his fist in the air prepared to defend himself. Swallowing nervously, you froze as his intense eyes scanned your own.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t…” Eddie promptly let you go and winced as he sat up in front of you.

“No, no. It’s ok. After what happened, I completely understand. I just need to check you out and rewrap your wound.”

“Would it be easier for you if we went to the table?”

“Oh, no, this is ok but I do have to turn on the light.”

Eddie follows your eyes as you glance towards Steve.

“Trust me, it won’t bother him one bit. I don’t think he’s had a consistent night’s sleep since he was hurt.”

“How long have you two been involved?”, you ask as you begin the task in front of you hoping to distract him as well from the pain.

“In my business or each other?”, he smirks when you breathily laugh. “Both answers are more or less the same. He had the balls to arrest me on a charge we both knew wouldn’t stick. I knew he was different when he tried to get me to flip sides and sell out my friends. Usually, cops knew better than to do that especially with me.”

The gangster paused when you tried to clean his cut, flinching as he gritted his teeth.

“What happened? Did he take you in?”

“No, I did when I let him fuck me handcuffed in the back of his cruiser.”, he chuckled, slightly surprised when you did as well. “We’ve been watching out for each other ever since. He’s actually not as big of an asshole as he seems. Steve just has a big heart and wants to take care of everything himself. He likes to be the big, strong man, you know? That’s why he’s been so short lately.”

“What happened there? He didn’t tell me; just said he was jumped.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should know. The less we tell you the better.”

“Mr. Munson, you, a well-known Mafia style gang leader, showed up at my clinic after hours with a police officer bleeding out. I think that line has been crossed.”, you grin up at him finding his eyes watching you again. “I assume it was someone from Carver’s side. You told Steve something about them sending a message.”

“Yeah… Jason Carver isn’t exactly a fan of mine even more so since I took over. My dad was always a…shoot first ask questions later which is why he’s in jail right now. He was sloppy and greedy like Jason. I don’t want to hurt people I don’t have to.” Leaning forward, you start wrapping the gauze around him but you can’t help to inhale the strong scent of cigarettes and cologne. You don’t see it but his own head tilts slightly, inhaling your shampoo from the night before when you finally had time for a shower and the regular smells of your office that attached to your skin.

Eddie’s lips ever so slightly grazed your shoulder that was exposed due to the tank top you were currently wearing causing you to shutter softly as you pulled back to cut the bandage.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”, he asked in a low tone that had you exhaling as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Mr. Munson, I work in a city filled with crime and scared citizens. I don’t really have the luxury of being afraid.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Calloused fingers reached out to grip the bottom of your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. “Even though I take no pleasure in it, I have hurt and killed people. I killed two people just last night. Carver got the idea in his head that roughing up the man I love would have me submitting to him and his whims. I’m not the submissive type and I made sure he knew that by slitting the throats of the two men that put hands on him. I don’t regret it and I’d do it again.”

“How did you get hurt then?”

“Unfortunately, Carver isn’t an idiot. He had more men appear and try to take us out. Steve showed up and someone pulled a knife… Let’s just say that someone got in a good attempt before I snapped his neck.”

The way he spoke about such violent things was so even, almost as if he could be reading from a grocery list. This was his every day and you could tell by his tone he knew it would continue to be. But there was something about him… something that made you feel safe.

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Munson.”

“I think under the circumstances, you can call me Eddie.”

A cell phone ringing pulled you both apart but didn’t stir the man it belonged to as he continued to snore with his head leaning over the back of the couch.

“Steve. Steven.”, the man called as he shook his arm rousing him from his deep sleep. “Your phone is ringing.”

Without opening his eyes, the officer reached into his pocket, producing his device, and placing it to his ear as he answered with gravelly “yeahs” and “mhmms”.

“I have to go in. Someone called in about the shooting on the eastside and they found Carver’s guys.” Rubbing his eyes and as if he forgot you were there, Steve tenderly kissed Eddie’s lips before rising to his feet and putting on all of his gear once more. “Please keep an eye on him and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I have to go to work.” Pausing, he exhaled heavily as he turned and flashed you an annoyed look. “I have to. It would look weird if I didn’t. I’ve never missed a day but if we leave early enough…I can bring him with me and keep him in my office.”

“Is it ok to move him that much?”

As if to prove a point, Eddie rose to his feet.

“I’ll be ok. I’m a quick healer. Don’t worry about us.”

###############

Thankfully, you didn’t have too many patients today so you were able to keep yourself locked in your office with the gangster you were attempting to hide. As soon as you brought him in, he fell asleep on your office couch, allowing you to leave him be so you could do what you needed.

As you were reading a chart however you heard giggling in the exam room beside your office and quickly went to investigate, finding Eddie sitting next to a child on the exam table making her laugh.

“Look, princess, you can’t trick me like that.”

“It’s thumb war! You have to be stronger.”

“Ok, best two out of three.”

“Kylie, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”, you beam trying not to startle either of them.

“Hey Dr. Y/L/N! My mom told me to come down to see if you had any more samples of my inhaler.”

“Oh, honey. I don’t. I’m so sorry. I usually try and save one for you but I had another patient who had an emergency so I had to give it to him.”

“Why do you need an inhaler? Is it for the other people whose breath you take away because you’re so adorable?”

Kylie giggles as she turns towards Eddie and blushes.

“No! I have asthma. My mommy brings me here to get my medicine because we can’t afford the stores.”, she sighs as her head hangs.

The man’s eyes meet your sympathetic ones before softly smiling and giving the little girl his attention again.

“Hey. Can you keep a secret?” The small child nods in earnest making his smile widen. “Have you heard of a little convenience store called Cunningham’s Corner? It’s about a 5-minute walk from here. Go to that store and ask for Chrissy. Tell her Eddie sent you and you need an inhaler. She’ll give it to you for free.”

Kylie’s eyes widen as if this man just told her a fairytale.

“Free?”

“Mhmm. But you can’t tell anyone! Because then other people will take advantage.”

After giving him a hug, she jumps down from the table and starts to head for the door.

“Hey! Here. Give Miss Cunningham this paper when you tell her what you need, ok?”, you instruct as you hand her a prescription with the name of what she needs.

“Ok. Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N!”

“Thank you. That was really nice of you.”

Rising from his seat, he waddles with you back to your office.

“It’s not a problem. I heard her coughing and crying so I wanted to make sure she was alright. Is she a regular?”

“Yeah and, unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for her to come by herself. Her mom is a single mother who works 60hrs a week trying to make ends meet. They came to me when she started having her symptoms but there’s only so much I can do here with my resources.”

“Are you underfunded?”

“Yeah. I do what I can but because of where I’m located…”

“Why don’t you move to a better location?”

“I can’t do that. I can’t leave these people. They need someone to help them since a regular clinic would immediately turn them away since a lot of them have no money or no insurance.”

“You’re a very kind woman, Y/N.”

Flashing him a smile, a knock makes you jump as you quickly get up to see who it is.

“It’s Hawkins PD Detective Jim Hopper. I’d like to have word with you for a moment.”

Right as you scan your room, Eddie hides himself in front of you against the wall so he wouldn’t be seen when you finally open the door between you and the gentleman.

“May, uh, my we come in?”

“We?”, you ask as your eyes flick to the wide, stern eyes of Steve behind him. “What’s this about, detective?”

“I don’t know if you heard but we had a gang related fight in the area and we got some intel that Edward Munson may have been severally wounded.”

“Ok? And what does that have to do with me?”

“It wasn’t far from your clinic so we thought, maybe, you heard something or saw something?”

“What time was this?”

“Around 7-8pm.”

“My clinic closes at 6 so—”

“I mean, as a doctor though I’m sure you work late hours—”

“Not last night.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie mime with his hand for you to calm down a bit and you close your eyes as you sigh before responding again. “I’m sorry, Officers. It’s just been a rough week. I left early last night to come in early this morning and do some work. I haven’t heard or seen anything but I can be on the lookout.”

Hopper nods, tilting his hat as he begins to walk away.

“I’m just going to give her some details and information so she knows what to be on the lookout for exactly.”, Steve informs his colleague who confirms before disappearing to lean against the waiting room desk.

Pulling out his notepad, he steps closer to you pretending to write things down.

“Where is he?”, Steve whispers, smirking when your eyes flick to the side. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You like it.”, Eddie murmurs. “Should we be worried?”

“No, a few of Carver’s guys are in the morgue.”

You had seen many people come and go during your time as a physician so when the officer shook his head looking away down the hallway, you could tell he was lying.

“What aren’t you telling him?”

Steve’s angry, amber eyes met yours as an annoyed grunt left his lips.

“Nothing. Stay in your lane, doctor.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growled low beside you. “Watch your tone. You wouldn’t keep anything from me would you, Steven?”

“I was questioned this morning seeing as how I was jumped and then suddenly men from Carver’s gang show up dead.”, the cop sighs. “I told you not to go over there.”

You could feel the tension rising between them but you were still being watched and couldn’t risk the gangster being seen. Eddie was slipping to far in his own frustration to think that far as he began pushing off the wall to scold his partner but you quickly placed your hand on his chest lightly pushing him back down.

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No.”, he responds to your question. “But I am being watched a lot closer hence the detective.”

“And your bruises?”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt to. Is the medicine helping at all?”

Steve’s eyes take in your face clocking in your genuine concern.

“It is actually. Thank you.” When you smile back at his answer a tooth filled grin paints his features. “I, um, I should be done here by about 7 or so. I’ll head to your place, come get him, and then…we’ll be out of your hair.”

#############

“Ok, so, make sure to keep this clean and if you find yourself in any excruciating pain or like I told Steve if you get a fever come back to me so I can take a look.”

“Hm. I thought you never wanted to see us again.”, Eddie teased as he carefully put back on the shirt you gave him.

“I don’t but that doesn’t mean I want you to get sick or die or whatever.”

The gangster’s smile grew as he watched you blush.

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend or husband or whatever?”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because if you were our girl, there’s no way I would have gone two days without calling or checking in and I’d definitely have something to say if I found two men sleeping here.”

“Our girl?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Any woman I date is with Steve as well and most can barely handle my attitude and temper let alone both of ours.”

“You seem nice enough to me.”

“I can be mean when I want to be.”

“I’m always busy…to answer your question. A lot of relationships I’ve had can’t handle my schedule.”

“Hm, I understand that. Steve and I have conflicting schedules all the time.” Eddie’s eyes watch you as you gather the trash from cleaning his cut and head towards the trashcan to avoid his gaze. “But we make time for each other. That’s what you do when you care about someone.”

“Yeah, well, I guess no one really cares about me.”, you sassily smirk as you sigh and wash your hands in the sink.

Feeling the energy shift, you turn coming chest to chest with the man himself.

“I care about you. Steve cares about you.”

“I’m pretty sure Officer Harrington hates me.”, you giggle but it tapers off when his face remains stoic.

“He doesn’t. He wouldn’t have brought me to you if he didn’t trust you.”

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I know enough.”

Shaking your head, you laugh again trying to lighten the intense atmosphere as you begin to walk back towards the living room but his hand promptly grabs your bicep and moves you till your standing in front of him once more.

“You saved me and helped him. I just watched you all day take care of people who can’t normally afford care. You have a kind heart and you’re extremely beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you are?”

A knock on your door startled you but not him as he continued to stare down at you waiting for an answer. Silently, you allowed Steve entry who immediately took in your rattled appearance.

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm. I was just asking Y/N if she knew how beautiful she was.”

His gorgeous, honey hues widen slightly as if he was surprised before turning his attention back to you.

“You know you are, right?”

“I-I think you both should leave.”, you whisper with little to no confidence in what you were saying.

“Is that what you want?”, he mused as he strolled further into your apartment. “Because we can leave right now and like you asked, disappear from your life forever. Or, maybe, you can let us thank you properly.”

“I thought you didn’t like me…said you wanted to put me in my place.”

They both chuckle making your face turn a deep crimson in embarrassment.

“Baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It just means that I think I’d have a lot of fun playing with you.”

“Playing with me?”

Steve subtly nods his head as Eddie slowly moves closer to the living room where you two were standing.

“Teasing you, kissing you, taking care of you…taking control of you and your gorgeous body till you’re begging me to let you cum.” Tilting his head, his eyes meet yours as his fingers caress your face. “When’s the last time you had someone take care of you?”

The other man comes up behind you, sandwiching you between them as he gently places his palm on your stomach under your blouse.

“I asked you something, honey.”

“It’s been a while.”, you jest making Steve smirk as Eddie stepped closer to you till your back was to his chest. His hand continued to run along your skin with his fingers just barely floating under the waistband of your pants before coming back up to rub your stomach. “I’m scared.”

Everyone freezes in place at your words but as the gangster tries to drop his hand, you quickly catch it and hold it in place back on your tummy.

“Of us?”, he asks.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Resting his head on your shoulder, his palm wonders again this time going further as you feel him slide into your underwear and cup his hand around your heat.

“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise, you’re safe with us. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“And neither will I. I can protect you from getting in any kind of trouble with the law or anything like that. You have two men here who control both sides of the coin…” As Steve’s voice dropped into a more and more seductive register, Eddie’s lips gently pecked your shoulder and up to your neck as his finger graze your clit while gliding them through your folds.

“You just need to let go and let us control you.”

“Fuck.”, you groaned as he slid two of his digits into your core.

“Is that a yes?”, Steve chuckles sassily as he watches your eyes close as you lean your head against his boyfriend.

“I think so, Harrington, because pretty girl here is just dripping all over my hand.”

“Yeah? We need to hear her say it though. Do you want us to take care of you tonight, honey?”

“H-He—mmm—Eddie can’t with his…with his cut.”

“Oh trust me, Y/N, that won’t be an issue. Now answer my question, please.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you to take care of me.”

As if they could read each other’s minds, Eddie’s hand slipped out of your pants and Steve picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried you to your bedroom.

“Ow! Something in your vest is stabbing me, Officer Harrington.”, you giggle before he tosses you onto your mattress.

“Sorry. I forgot to take this stuff off. I was blindsided by a stupid question when I came in.”, he grinned as he began removing his equipment and placed them on your bedside table.

Eddie carefully climbed in and you hastily set up pillows so he could lean back comfortable against your headboard.

“Thank you. I don’t think that question was ever answered. DO you know how beautiful you are?”

“Sometimes I need reminding.”, you sigh as your nervous eyes meet his soft ones.

“We can do that, sweetheart.”

Taking hold of your cheeks, he brought your lips to his and your body ignited with an electricity you had never felt before as his lips carefully but firmly mingled with yours. Steve’s laugh echoed through your room as he looped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the gangster to bring you in front of him at the edge of the bed.

He had taken off his shirt and out of habit as a doctor you scanned his bruises to make sure he was ok. Clocking your care once again, his fingers gripped your chin and brought your mouth to his own.

“It’s ok. I’m still a bit sore but you helped me a lot.”

As he continued to kiss your lips, you allowed him to undress you making him pause when you were fully naked in front of them.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I told you, princess…beautiful.”, Eddie grinned.

Smiling widely at their compliments, your hands roamed Steve’s chest, kissing a trail along the way till you reached his belt and fumbled with the barrier before fully pushing down his pants. You gasped when his cock sprang free causing them both the chuckle again as you practically gapped at the size.

“I know. It was a shock to me to.”, the gangster teased as the officer stuck out his tongue playfully.

“You liked it. And I promise, honey, you’ll like it to.”

Gripping the base, he held his mushroom tip towards your lips and moaned when your tongue darted out to lick the small beads of precum that had begun to leak. Steve pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch as you slowly wrapped your mouth around him and gradually began bobbing your head.

“Shit. Atta girl. Flatten that tongue. J-Just like that.”

Another set of hands softly ran down you back and over your ass before the cool sting of metal hit your behind.

“Did you like that, pretty girl? Did you like Eddie spanking you?”, the officer asked when you moaned loudly.

Fingers glided ever so slightly through your pussy lips and even you couldn’t deny hearing the squishy sound of your slick that obscenely filled your bedroom.

“Oh Stevie. She definitely enjoyed that.”

“Yeah? You like it a bit rough, little girl?”

Eddie guided his middle and ring fingers inside of you eliciting a mewl from your throat that had the man inside of your mouth grunting with pleasure.

“Fuck. I think…I think you can take me a bit deeper.”

Thrusting his hips a bit, you gag around him spilling drool and spit down his length as you mentally take note of the fact that that wasn’t all of him you choked on.

“Come on, honey, take more. I know you can, baby.”

Tears stream down your face as you try but barely take more of him in. Gripping your jaw, he pulls out of your mouth and leans his face in front of yours as his eyes search yours.

“Green, good. Yellow, slow down. Red, stop. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Fuck… green.”

“Ok, then why are you crying? We haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“I-I-I wanna take more. I want to make you feel good to.”

You heard your tone as it came out of your mouth but you barely recognized it. You sounded like a child who was told she couldn’t play outside because it was raining. What was it about these men that transformed you in this way? In relationships or even one-night stands, you never cared about this kind of thing. Usually, men never complained and you were never fully satisfied after they left resorting to your vibrator to get you the rest of the way.

But for whatever reason, you wanted to impress them. You desperately wanted them to feel good because some part of you had a feeling that they were going to do the same for you.

Steve’s eyes softened as Eddie’s fingers slowed inside of you.

“Be nice to her, babe. She’s got a good heart and she did take care of us.”

“Can you keep your mouth open for me, pretty girl?” He grins when you nod your head, wiping your tears with his thumb before kissing your cheek. “And you are making me feel good. Your mouth feels fucking amazing.”

You beam with pride as you do what he asked, whimpering when Eddie began building you up again.

Holding your head still, Steve guided his cock back between your lips, doing the slow thrusts he was doing before as you kept your mouth closed around him. Your eyes squeezed shut as his pace began to quicken, his tip occasionally hitting the back of your throat.

“There you go, baby. T-That’s it. See? Doing—fuck—doing so well. Now, stay still.”

As he began fucking your face, the gangster matched his pace making you groan as obscenities flowed from the officer’s mouth.

“Shit. Take it, little girl. That’s right. You love the taste of my cock in your throat, don’t you?” Reaching over you, his hand calm down hard on your ass and your palm pushed at his legs signaling you needed air. “Are you gonna cum? Ask him, Y/N. Ask Eddie if it’s ok.”, he commanded as he forced your head towards the other man.

“Eddie, please. Please… can I…”

“Yeah, princess. Cum on my fingers.”

You collapsed as you came, moaning loudly into the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. You weren’t given much time however as Steve manhandled you till you up on your hands and knees again with your face hovering over the bulge in the other man’s pants.

After unbuckling his belt, he pushed them down just enough to free his own cock from his denim confinement and you didn’t hesitate as you wrapped your tiny hands around his thick girth. Hands clung tightly to your waist and you braced yourself when you felt Steve collect some of your arousal with his length before gradually pushing into your entrance.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to focus on the man in front of you, letting a long glob of spit land on his tip as you stroked it with your hand.

“S-So…So fucking tight.” His palm came down on your ass and you groaned as he continued to push further inside of you.

“I like my view here. Make—mmm—make sure you fuck her nice and deep. Beautiful girl deserves it after everything she’s been through.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. I plan on ruining this little pussy.”

Eddie chuckles as he watches Steve lick his lips as your cunt tightens around him at his words.

“What about you, princess?”, he murmurs as he tenderly pets your head.

“He’s…so BIG.”

“Yeah, he is. Does he feel good?” You nod as your head hangs and he promptly grabs your jaw forcing you to look his way. “Say it.”

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good!”

“That’s a good girl.”

You mewled when you felt him bottom out, his hips connecting with yours, allowing you to feel every inch before he pulled back and slammed back into you. Eddie’s mouth fell open as you bobbed your head on his cock. While he wasn’t as big as his boyfriend, he was definitely thicker and you felt like your mouth was full of him.

He was much gentler with you, continuing to play with your hair and mutter praises as Steve pounded into you, rocking you further down the gangster’s length as you choked and spit around him.

“God, honey, this pussy is too…fucking…good.”, Steve grunted, smacking his lower half into yours between each word. Leaning over you, he rolled his hips, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt as your eyes rolled back. “His dick tastes amazing, doesn’t it? Mmm—fucking love when he shoves it down my throat.”

Moving out of his way, Steve envelopes Eddie into his mouth making the gangster moan as he extends his hand to tangle in his hair. As his boyfriend continued to fuck you, your own groans vibrated against the long haired boy’s balls driving him crazy as he growled through his clenched teeth.

“Fuck! You’re both so fucking sexy. That’s it, baby boy, take my cock.”

After pumping his hips a few times, Eddie let him go and Steve pushed up onto his knees pounding into you till you were seeing stars. Taking the man’s length in your mouth again, you mimicked the other boy’s movements trying to keep a steady pace as you hurdled towards the edge.

“A-Are you about to cum? Fuck, Y/N, you better fucking ask one of us, little girl, if you want to fucking cum!”

Your glassy, needy eyes met the chocolate ones of the man in front of you, pleading as you began to shake.

“Ask, Y/N.”

“Please, Eddie! Please, I need to cum!”

Taking a hold of your hair, he firmly tugged you till your face was fully visible. A small smile flickered across his lips, watching you struggle till he finally nodded granting you permission.

Steve reached around and took hold of your throat, lifting you till you were pressed against him, squeezing you tightly as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Are you on the pill?”, Steve roughly growled in your ear, his rhythm and intensity increasing when you said yes. “Good because I’m going to fill up this pussy and you’re going to take it like a good little girl. You’re going to take everything I give you and be fucking thankful.”

He grunted in your ear as he held your lower half against him as he rolled his hips aggressively, pumping his release into your cunt.

“Steve.”, Eddie called in a firm tone you barely heard through your haze.

“Excuse me, honey.”

Carefully, he pulled his softening cock out of your aching hole and gently laid you on your side before crawling up the gangster’s legs and taking him into his mouth. You watched with hooded eyes as his boyfriend took him all the way down his shaft, massaging his balls with his palm, as Eddie groaned.

“That’s my good boy. You wanna swallow my cum?”

Steve nodded as his eyes met his own and with a few thrusts of Eddie’s hips, his head fell back as he released his spend down the man’s throat. After sharing a soft but passionate kiss, they turned their attention to you.

“Are you ok, babe? Do you need anything? Water?”

“Will you lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, of course.”

You didn’t even hesitate when you scoot to Eddie’s side and wrapped your arms around your stomach, placing your head on his chest. The last thing you remember is feeling warmth behind you and the sound of Steve’s steady breathing on your skin before you fell asleep.

***

“DID YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THERE WOULD BE NO CONSEQUENCES?!”

Your head shot up when you heard shouting in your living room. Eddie and Steve were missing but the voice you heard definitely wasn’t theirs. Quickly throwing on the officer’s shirt you listened as the voice continued.

“Did you really think you could come on to our territory, break into one of our stash houses, and kill a bunch of our guys?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how easy it was for me and my guys to break in.”, Eddie responded angrily.

“Shut the fuck up, trailer trash! You think because you moved out here and took over Al’s business, you’re different but you aren’t. You’re still that garbage that he left behind with his brother before you suddenly decided you wanted in. Ah ah ah! Don’t make me shoot you, Steve. I have no problem killing a law man.”

“If you’re not here to kill us, Andrew, then what do you want?”, Steve spat.

Glancing quickly around the room, you realize his gun was still in its holster near your nightstand and as quietly as you could pulled it from its home. Tip toeing out into the hallway, you held it in front of you as you peaked around the corner.

The person you didn’t recognize had his back to you as he pointed his own pistol at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands raised where he could see them.

“Jason just wants Edward so we can make an example of him and what happens when you cross the Carvers.”

“I think you underestimate the Munsons, Andy.” Slowly, you creeped up behind him, praying he wouldn’t turn around. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. I hope Jason understands that this wasn’t a good move.”

“Yeah well, you can tell him yourself. Now come on or I will shoot him.”, Andrew threatens as he points his weapon Steve.

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cock the gun and pull the trigger.

##############

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ghostedeabha · 7 days

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

wc: 894

warnings: chronic illness, mentions of acid reflux and nausea, mentions and descriptions of chronic pain. it's implied that reader is autistic and adhd but never explicitly mentioned. migraines. other than that, pure fluff.

a/n: this is absolutely a personal lil comfort fic i wrote bc i'm chronically ill and disabled lol. hope y'all enjoy. i tried to keep it broad and not mention specific illnesses so anyone with a chronic disability can read, but my experience with chronic illnesses and disabilities are based solely on my own and thus may accidently exclude certain illnesses.

it was more often than not that simon came home to the flat like this, and it never failed to break his heart a little bit every time. dirty dishes untoched in the sink, clothes strewn about. just generally messy and dirty.

it’s not as if simon had left the flat alone during his deployment, quite the opposite in fact. and anyone who knew that fact and saw the state of the flat would probably tell simon that his girlfriend was clearly lazy and didn't care for his things.

simon, however, knew that was far from the truth. he stepped over the dirty clothes and past the sink of dirty dishes, he’d deal with all that later, and made his way to the bedroom where he knew he’d find his love. find her in the exact spot he had left her no doubt.

his suspicions only confirmed when he opened the door slowly, giving it a gentle knock first as to alert her of his arrival. as he stepped into the room, placing his bag down by the door as he closed it behind him, he looked over to his girlfriend, curled up in a pile of blankets in the dark room. simon took note that the lights were completely shut off and the blackout curtains pulled over the window.

“hey bunny…” simon says quietly as he approaches the bed with careful steps, his deep, gruff voice barely a whisper. “got a migraine?”

his girlfriend’s response came in the form of just slightly moving blankets and a small face poking out from a tiny hole in the pile of warmth and plush. her pretty face etched with that permenant pout she had when she was having flare ups.

she needn’t respond to his question for him to know her answer.

“take your migraine medicine?” simon asks gently again, no condescending intentions, he knew the answer was one of two things. ‘yes and it barely helped’ or ‘no, i have none left’

when his girlfriend shakes her head no, he instantly knows that the latter option is her current situation, and his heart breaks further. it was too late to take those meds now, even if he ran to the pharmacy just up the road and got her refill. they were preventative meds, not relief.

“would you like to go to the hospital?” simon questions further, he holds up both hands and his girlfriend pokes the right.

‘no.’

“okay, then… how about i go and get you some chips and a soda? maybe that combo will help, want to try that luvie?” he suggests, his hands held up again.

this time she pokes the left.

‘yes.’

“perfect.” simon responds, kissing her blanketed forehead. “i’ll be back in 10 with a large chips and a large dr. pepper. want anything else? have you eaten at all today?”

yet again his lovely girlfriend shakes her head no and her hand pokes out to point towards her lanyard on the nightstand.

“your cards?” simon asks, despite this he’s already grabbing the shark lanyard and handing it to his baby.

she takes it with a weak, forced smile. only on her lips to show her love and gratitude for his help before the mask slips and her pained pout returns to her face. no big deal, simon understands it’s not a reflection on her feelings to him.

uncapping the marker she writes on the blank, laminated card on her lanyard, part of a set of communication cards.

'didn't eat. too much nausea and acid reflux.’

“oh, okay. then just the chips and soda.” simon confirms with a firm nod. “i’ll be back in 10, doll.”

and as promised, he’s back in 10 minutes flat. ice, cold dr. peper and some hot, salty chips in his possession. a small smile on his face at the sight of slight progress in his lover’s state, instead of a pitch black room she sat in a mostly dim room with the tv quietly playing an episode of Bob’s Burgers.

“here y’are. made sure to get them nice and hot. want some ketchup?” simon says with a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the man he had to be just 12 hours prior.

when she nods, simon is quick to go to the kitchen, coming back with the bottle of ketchup for his beloved. he sits on the bed next to the blanket monster that his girlfriend currently was and handed the bottle of ketchup to her, holding out a little cup for her to squirt however much she wanted into.

even moments like these simon treasured. many would see his girlfriend as a burden, why? well he wasn't really sure. but simon didn't. he felt a sense of purpose being able to help her when she needs it, plus, what was better than coming home from deployment and snuggling with his princess? even if his princess was more of a blanket moutain than anything right now.

the two adjusted to make them both comfortable and cozy, blankets surrounding them both as simon held his darling close, large hands gently rubbing up and down her sides in a soothing manner, happy to relax with her and watch tv.

simon would take this here, over the battlefield anyday.

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kteezy997 · 8 months

Note

can we maybe have some more lee content ?! you’re one of the few people that have written for him and he’s just sooo underrated !! i love how casually dominant you wrote him btw amazing characterization <3

Warnings: this is filthy smut, virgin reader, mention of condoms, unprotected sex, blood, female receiving oral sex while bleeding (sorry), mention of arousal, Lee enjoying the taste of blood? what do you want me to say? if you can't deal with blood, don't read this hehe

Make Me Yours// Lee (Bones and All)

You and your boyfriend, Lee, were traveling across the country together. No real destination in either of your minds. You were just driving until the truck gave out somewhere.

You had been a couple for a while, but things never got too carried away between you. You were young, and Lee was about three years older than you, and more experienced. He knew so much about the ways of the world. You felt like he was teaching you a lot about life in general. But these days, you wanted to know about sex, in particular, sex with him. You weren't sure if he even knew that you were still a virgin. You hoped that he wouldn't care; that he would still love you and want to be with you, no matter what.

"Lee," you started to say as you drove through the night, "I was thinking we could get a room somewhere."

"A room?" he asked, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

"Yeah, I think it'd be nice to sleep on a mattress tonight, instead of a truck bed for a change." Also, you could put your penis inside me.

Lee shrugged nonchalantly, "Okay, we'll stop at the next place we see."

"Okay." you said, scooting over close to him. He put his hand on your inner thigh, over your jeans of course, and you rested your head on his shoulder. You adored his natural scent. Most men needed an expensive cologne to smell good, but not Lee. He smelled of outside, maybe a little bit of motor oil from when he had to work on the truck earlier, and he always carried the smell of musk and pine intertwined.

You cupped your hand on his arm, his lightweighted sweater was soft and worn-in, such a delight to touch your cheek to.

"Are you sleepy?" Lee asked you, noting your snuggling.

"No, just wanted to be next to you." you answered.

You saw him smile and let out a tiny little chuckle. "We're almost there." he said, nodding to a billboard that mentioned lodging in 10 miles.

.......

You passed a small pharmacy on the way to the motel, and you made up a lie to Lee about having a little headache. You asked to stop at the pharmacy to get something to help with the pain, and he agreed.

"You want me to come in with you?" he asked, softly combing your hair away from your face.

"No, it's okay. I'll just be a minute." you smiled, then got out of the truck.

You ended up buying some condoms instead of headache meds. Now, to surprise your boy at the motel room.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well, is that why you wanted a break from driving?" Lee asked you as he opened up the door of your room for the night.

"No, that's not the reason." you went over to the bed, plopping down at the foot of it.

Lee smirked at you, "What is the reason then?" he kneeled right in front of you, his hands tucked under your skirt, just barely.

"I want to have sex, Lee. I didn't buy meds for a headache. I don't have a headache." you took the pack of condoms out of your jacket pocket. "I bought these, actually."

He shook his head, surprised but very pleased, "Sneaky." He kissed you immediately and massaged his lips over yours with his signature sensuality. He put his hands on you as he climbed on top of your body.

You set the condoms down on the bed, just enjoying the kisses from your boyfriend.

His snaked his lips from your mouth to your cheek, then down your neck. He sucked your tender flesh there, leaving sweet little nibbles.

The grazing of his teeth sent shivers down your body. The heat between your legs mounted, and you were getting wet as he pressed his body against yours. "Oh, Lee." you cooed, putting your hands on his shoulders.

You felt his curly hair trickling along your jawline, his breath was warm against your neck as he said, "Y/n, I've wanted you for so fucking long." He left one more wet peck on your throat, then he reach up your skirt to pull your panties down. You were practically dripping when his fingers met your folds.

Lee watched your face as he rubbed your clit. His fingers were rough to the touch which made for excellent friction.

You rutted your hips against his fingers ever so slightly as your need for him grew stronger. You let your hand rest on his chest, and as he inserted a finger inside of you, you tucked your fingers onto his puka shell necklace. You shuddered when he introduced another finger.

His fingers left your pussy suddenly and you saw him taking his clothes off. He tossed his sweater onto the floor and untied the rope that he used as a belt. Your boy wasn't wearing underwear, and his hard cock was freed just by the removal of his mangled jeans.

Lee then helped you out of your dress, letting your garment join his on the floor.

You felt a little strange being naked in front of him, your breasts heaving up and down as your tried to control your nerves and your breathing.

He used his knee to part your legs, and he lay on top of you. His skin was comfortably warm and smooth against you, like a cozy blanket. He petted your hair, smiling down at you adoringly. He left kisses on your collarbone, then all across your chest. "You're so beautiful." he whispered, then cupped your breasts, softly kneading them.

Your nipples puckered in his palms, making you moan.

Lee held your tits in each hand, but left your hard nipples exposed so he could lick them. First was his tongue, then he put his lips on your left one, sucking, and moaning.

Waves of pleasure were sent straight to your pussy in a way that you hadn't know before.

He sucked your right nipple, leaving small kitten licks on the tender bud and softly bit down, and you whimpered. Lee chuckled lightly at your reaction. He moved his hips even closer to you.

You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock against the wetness of your pussy. "Lee, I-"

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"It's just that...I'm a virgin."

Lee couldn't hold back his delight, grinning, he said, "Yeah? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do. I just...didn't want you to be freaked if there's, ya know, a little blood."

"I'm not afraid of a little blood." he admitted, kissing you firmly on the lips. He then hopped up from you and the bed, strolling over to the bathroom, retrieving a towel. "To go underneath you." he said.

You obliged, shifting on the bed to let him spread the towel out. You then got onto the towel.

Lee got back on you, putting his forehead on yours, "Let's make a fuckin' mess, baby."

You were taken aback a little bit. You knew your boy was special, but you weren't expecting him to be so intrigued by your virginal blood. You ultimately just chalked it up to him being in love with you and being your first.

"We'll save the condoms for later, I don't plan on coming in you this time." he said, his voice somewhat huffy. He looked between your bodies, and you watched as he lined his cock up to your opening. "Ready?" he asked, his green eyes searching into yours for affirmation.

"Yes, take me, please. Make me yours.”

Lee pushed his cock inside of you. You clung to him, thinking he would tear you open. You couldn't breathe, the pressure from his cock was too much. You held on, letting him slide in further. It stung like hell, but after a moment, it was amazing.

He started to pump in and out of you, increasing his speed slowly. His breath became uneven, and he groaned as he worked his hips. "Fuck, you're so tight, but so fucking wet."

The pain was still present, but the pleasure took the forefront. You cried his name; you dug your nails into his back to relieve some tension. His thrusts got quicker as the wetness between your legs grew. You knew it was your blood as well as your arousal. You were a woman now, his woman. And you loved it.

He was molding your pussy to the shape of his cock. Your body felt like mush, but in the best way. And Lee seemed to love fucking you with your fluids around his cock. He anchored his hands onto the cheap wooden headboard, and the structure creaked with his thrusts. His red tips took on a salmon-colored hue in the dimly lit room, and they bobbed beautifully as he bucked into you.

You felt his bony hips smacking the back of your thighs, you knew that you'd have bruises there tomorrow. But it was perfectly fine; just more proof that you were his.

He held your waist, and you put your hands on his tattooed ones. His hands were rough and scarred but that made you love him more. Every mark on his body made him who he was. If he hadn't had his past experiences, most of them too traumatic for him to even tell you, he wouldn't be the man you fell in love with.

You could hear the sloshing sounds his cock was making inside you. The sinful noise filled the room along with your whimpering moans. You looked down as he pulled his length all the way out, he was covered in red.

"I wanna taste you." he said, taking his eyes from his bloody member to your eyes.

You were stunned, "Really?"

"Yes. Please?" he pleaded, holding your legs apart.

You were horny, of course, and more than willing to let your boy do what he wanted, even if it was kind of grotesque. So, you simply nodded to him.

In an instant, his mouth was on your soaked pussy, lapping and sucking.

The suction was a lot for you to take, you trembled and threw your hands into his hair.

Lee slurped along your clit, licking up your blood and your arousal. It was as if he was sucking the virginal blood out of your body. He moaned like it was the best meal he'd had in years.

You were on fire with pleasure. Lee was squeezing your thighs as he ate you out. He flicked his tongue over your clit rapidly. Your legs shook, your tummy swirled with adrenaline. "Fuck, Lee!" you cried, knowing that this had to be an orgasm.

He continued going down on your even as you came down from your high. You knew it was just as much for his pleasure as it was for yours. He was enjoying this. Maybe he liked the taste of blood. Or maybe it was your cum that he was lapping up.

Once he finished, he perked up, looking down at you. His face was covered in blood from his cheeks down to his jawline, with dribbles trickling down his neck. There were even crimson smudges on his nose. A satisfied smirk was planted on his lips.

In the shower later, you couldn't get over how hot he looked as the water rinsed your blood off of Lee's face. The red collected at his chin and along his jaw for a second, before the stream turned pink as the blood diluted and ran down the rest of his body.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #bonesandallfanfiction #bonesandalllee

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Note

reader dying in Simon's arms... med evac being too late... Simon in denial?

i like to cause pain 🫡

nonny... you are a little torturer, but I'm here for it. I actually wrote this a bit ago, but tweaked it b/c it was very similar to this prompt. Anyhow, enjoy you little angst-lover!

Fine Line

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 1.7k a/n: reader goes by callsign: Red. Also, this is like-- super angsty. I'm SORRY. I'll make it up to you later I promise. xx warnings: death, reader death, blood, gore? i think thats the word im looking for, denial, trauma, hurt/no comfort. masterlist

It doesn’t look good.

You hold your palm over your torso, pulling it away to look down at the ruby colored liquid that is coating your hands. It’s sort of beautiful, you think, oddly. Like rose petal after rose petal spilling out from your wounds, coating your being in its own life sustaining substance. It hurts, an unrelenting burn radiating throughout your body, causing you to tremor uncontrollably. You’ve seen death plenty. You’ve been the hand of it, and now you’re the victim. Funny how things come full circle like that.

Bodies lie around the room you occupy, already having suffered the same fate that you’re about to. You’d succeeded in clearing the room. Ah, but the closet. You’d missed it. A simple mistake, and it would cost you your life. You managed to take out the enemy, but not before he pressed his damning shotgun against your stomach, not before he’d pulled the trigger.

Your breathing is shallow, the puffs of air are visible in the cool air, and they shrink smaller as an overwhelming cold begins to creep around your lungs. Ice wraps around your frame like an old friend, like a lover.

“Red, how copy?”

You glance down at your radio, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips at the familiar voice. Simon. Oh, how you love him.

“Fuck, sergeant. How copy? I heard shots.” Simon says again, this time harsher. You’ll miss his voice, his touch, his eyes. You hope that in some way, after you’re gone, he’ll be with you.

His voice soothes you, your heart skipping a beat even as it slowly gives up, unable to carry the burden of keeping you alive for much longer. Blood trickles down your body like vines, wrapping around your arms and holding you heavy to the ground. You hope they’ll plant roses on your grave.

Slippery fingers press down on the comms button, trembling and soaked with crimson.

“I’m here, Ghost… I’m here.” You say into your comms. Your voice is barely a whisper, nothing more than a wisp. You used to be so bubbly, the loudest in the room. Your voice is foreign in your ears as the soft, comforting hands of death steal your air away from you, unwilling to compromise. Not this time.

“I'm coming, Red. Fuck, I’m on my way, love. I’ll be right there. Just hang on.” Simon pleads. You can hear his heavy breathing through the comms, swallowed by the panic in his voice. He sounds scared, terrified. It contrasts how you feel. Death has never been peaceful. Not when you watched teammates die on the field, not even when you killed. But this, being on the fine line of life and death? It’s peaceful. Death is quiet, it’s numb. Living. That’s the hard part. Fighting. Surviving.

Your eyes flicker to the door as Simon kicks it clean in. Your love enters the room quickly. You hate seeing him so worried, you’d take it away if you could. You’d carry the burden to ease the weight on his shoulders.

“Red!” Simon yells, running towards you and sliding to his knees on the ground beside you. His eyes scan over your wound, refusing to acknowledge the warm, red liquid that pools around you. He’s had a lot of blood on his hands, but never yours. Never.

Big hands push against your torso, attempting to stop the inevitable seeping of blood from your broken and battered body. It’s no use. Your time is up. The blood that Simon so desperately tries to stop from flowing has already been used to sign your life away.

“Price. I need a medevac, now!” Simon screams into his radio, the desperation is thick in his voice. His hands on your body hurt you, pushing against wounds that you know will never be sealed again. You groan uncomfortably as he attempts to force the life back into you.

“You’ll be just fine, baby. Just fine. Hang on for me, yeah? I’ll get you out of here.” Simon rambles.

“Simon, stop.” You whisper, hand weakly covering his. He shakes his head, unbelieving that this is happening. It can’t be. He’s lost everything. He can’t lose you too. Anything, anyone but you. He’s not strong enough. His skeleton gloves are painted red, like the rose petals, the blood, seeping from your mouth and your body. He pushes harder, noises of anguish escaping from his throat. A tear slips down your cheek, the liquid mixing in with the blood.

“Simon, stop.” You plead. He shakes his head.

“I won’t let you die out here.” He says, frantic, hands putting pressure on your wounds.

“It’s too late and you know it. Please. It hurts, Simon.” You whisper, head lolling back against the wall, “Just hold me… please.”

Simon hesitates. Everything in his being is screaming at him to fix you, to make a futile attempt to heal your wounds. But how can he deny you? He doesn’t move, but your hand squeezes his and he gives in to the weak gesture. His back slumps against the wall beside you, and he scoops you into his warm arms.

You were wrong. Death isn’t peace, his arms are. You smile weakly, curling into his chest as the life seeps out from your very pores.

“I can’t lose you, Red. Not you. Medevac’s almost here. You’ve got to hang on for just a bit, yeah?” Simon says, eyes darting around the room before they land on you again. There’s so much blood, too much blood. It covers you and him. He knows that no matter how hard he scrubs, it won’t ever come out. It’s etched into his very being, stained forever.

He’ll have to burn his clothes.

For his sake, you nod, though you know it’s a lie.

“They’ll get here in time. They will.” Simon nods to himself, attempting to convince himself that you’ll be okay.

He rocks you lightly, tears slipping down his cheeks and wetting his balaclava. His brown eyes are stained red from tears. The pain in your torso begins to dissipate, a searing burn turning to a dull ache. An overwhelming numbness begins to spread from the tips of your fingertips, spreading through you like clover. It covers you, a peaceful escape from the constant pain. You realize that time is slipping through your fingers, and no matter how much you try, it will continue to fall.

“I love you, Simon.” You whisper, voice barely a puff of air. You need him to hear it, just one last time. You don’t ever want him to forget. Simon shakes his head.

“You’re gonna be okay. Don’t– don’t say that. You’ll be just fine, love. You can tell me how much you love me when you’re safe at the base.” He stumbles over his words, begging to wake up from this nightmare and be in bed next to you.

“Say it back or you’ll regret it.” You whisper, knowing he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his life if he doesn’t repeat those familiar words to you just one last time.

“I’ll tell you when we get home. You’re not going to die out here.” His resolve is strong. Denial. A cold, bloody hand comes up to rest on his cheek, leaving a bloody handprint as you cup his masked face.

“I want to–” You gasp for breath, a wheeze that Simon won’t ever unhear for the rest of his life– “I want to hear it one last time.” You smile weakly, eyes locked onto his large brown irises. They are brimming with tears that you’ve never seen fall from his eyes.

“I love you.” He whispers, shakily. “Love you so much, my Red.”

“Thank you, Simon.” You whisper, “For everything.”

Your eyes are tired, and they slip shut to unburden themselves from staying open. Simon rocks you as his warm tears drip down onto your hair. A kiss is pressed to your hair, your forehead, your cheek. A sound of anguish, of raw pain shreds through the room. You can’t bring yourself to react.

It’s like falling asleep, lulled into a blissful slumber by the man you love. It’s peaceful. Simon’s warmth fades away from you, replaced by a cold that wraps around your heart and your lungs. The icy compression squeezes the last ounce of life from your being, and the rose petals stop falling.

–

Captain Price rushes into the room, Gaz and Soap on his six. His feet stop once he lays eyes on the scene in front of him. Ghost rocks you gently, eyes frantic, full of a pain and fear that Price has never seen in the stone-cold man’s eyes.

“Where’s the heli? You’ve got to help her!” Simon yells angrily at the three men. Soap backs up slightly, a few tears brimming in his eyes.

“Price!” Simon screams, his voice raw. He doesn't understand why no one is reacting, why no one is helping. He stands up from the floor, cradling you in his arms tightly. Your head is lulled back unnaturally, your hair cascading towards the floor.

"Simon…" Price whispers, taking a few steps towards you both.

"You've got to help her! Fucking hell, Price! Please!" Simon roars. His arms are trembling. His eyes are stained red with tears.

"Simon… she isn't breathing." Price whispers, his own tears coming to the surface as he looks over your lifeless body. You're unmoving, forever still and cold in Simon's arms.

“She’s alive–” Simon shakes his head, refusing to face the truth, “She’s alive, we just have to get her into the heli!”

“Simon…” Price whispers again, “She’s already gone.”

“You have to help her, Price. Fucking hell, please– Soap, Gaz, anybody please. Fuck!”

Death had already passed through, carried you away as red dripped down from the very being of your soul.

You're grateful to not be able to hear Simon's screams.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

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a-simple-imagine · 11 months

Text

Help! My Girlfriend Just Fell Down The Alt-Right Supe Supremacist Pipeline

Synopsis: you, an empath, just watched cate, your girlfriend, murder dean shetty

Pairing: Cate Dunlap x fem!reader

Words: 1.2k+

A/N - obsessed with cate and will not apologise for it so I wrote a little something for her. a sweet little baby angel

WARNINGS - swearing, blood, mentions of violence and murder

the human body has so much blood. approximately 1.2-1.5 gallons. you've never really thought about it before but it kinda just pours out, the first chance it gets. and it's such a deep, unsettling, thick shade of crimson. really gross. human beings are such fragile things. it takes one little injury and you're down for the count. Dean Shetty had such a powerful presence. an influential woman. the head of a school for superheroes, no less when she had no special abilities. at least not in the Vought sense. but all it took to take her down was one touch from an adorable blonde girl. her lifeless body spread over the floor of her beautiful home; a pool of red forming below her neck. you can still hear the sound of the blade cutting through the flesh; it glides through her skin so easily. It was a memory you were sure would never leave you. all because of Cate. the person you least expected to become a cold-blooded murderer. Then again, maybe you didn't know her as well as you thought. you never would have guessed she was capable of being so manipulative but that turned out to be true. you still didn't quite understand it. how could she do that to your friends? to you? someone she apparently cared so much about.

the air was rich with the emotional weight of every single person in the room. it was so thick you could almost taste it. it was sour and harsh; so unbelievably suffocating. it spilt through your veins. you couldn't tell what belonged to whom. there was just so much of it. you hear your name slip from such gentle lips. it's hard to pull your eyes away from the horror scene before you even for cate. none of this seemed real. it couldn't be real. your girlfriend wasn't capable of murdering someone. she may not have held the knife but she did give the order.

cate takes a tentative step closer to you and with it, her individual emotions grow sharper. "you understand don't you," she expresses softly. your hands are shaking. it's just reflective of what happened with Shetty. the pain she felt. you felt. "I know you do." despite everything, you're not fearful of Cate. you know she wouldn't hurt you. all the mind fuckery was some misguided attempt to do the right thing. so you guess Cate was right, in some ways you did understand but not in the way she wanted. "it's us or them."

"oh Cate…" you sigh softly. there was so much panic in the room and yet so much expectation placed upon you. you were the closest to Cate. you knew they expected you to denounce her. they expected you to do… something. but you can't. she has been through so much. She was handling so much. Even if you tried, there was no changing her mind right now. the blonde moves even closer.

"she was trying to kill us all with her virus," she was desperate for understanding that you couldn't quite give her. Dean Shetty was an awful person. nobody would deny that and maybe she deserved to die but could you really forgive Cate for this? you wanted to. you wanted to help her. but this was all too much. your entire body alive with the weight of everyone else's emotions.

"I…" you trail off. you're not sure how to make this better. there was no bringing dean Shetty back to life. no way for Cate to come back from this. you like cate. you… love cate. you have never told her that. you didn't really realise until this very moment as you face your own reality. you wonder if she is in your head right now; reading your thoughts. there is a lot going on. her head is probably racing. wait. cate was no longer taking her meds. maybe this wasn't real. maybe this was like the time you got trapped in her head. god, you hoped it was like the time you found out Soldier Boy was her imaginary boyfriend. gross. "Cate, please. let's just wake up. this isn't real, right? tell me this isn't real."

"she's gone fucking crazy," someone yells but you can't tell who. it seems almost muffled. there is so much noise in her. your head feels like it's gonna explode. l

"Cate." you articulate more firmly this time. block it out. block them all out. "you didn't- this isn't happening."

"you heard her. you heard what she said. she wanted us all dead- they all do. I couldn't-" so much urgency in her voice. so much fear. "I'm protecting us-"

"Cate just stop please," you bark loudly. you didn't want to hear this. you couldn't handle this right now. you just wanted to wake up from this horrible dream

"you- you have to understand." the blonde grabs your hand and everything she is feeling crashes over you like a tsunami. heavy and dangerous. you buckle under the water. drowning beneath the waves. you can't do anything but let it crush you; a single tear spills down your cheek before the rest comes pouring out.

"don't fucking touch her." Jordan shoves her; hard. You tumble to the floor. a strong sense of loyalty radiates from them. a fierce sense of anger. so much red-hot fury. he wanted to protect you. they had always been that way. you never quite understood why. perhaps the nature of your powers made you seem weak or maybe it was how easily you became overwhelmed. One touch and you can sense every emotion and the meaning behind them. Cate can read minds but you could feel them. you experienced other people. to some extent, you could even manipulate them. Cate would tell you how powerful she knew you would be. it all came with practice. you believed her to be true but you never tried. you hated your abilities. people are just too much. they feel too much. you don't like it. you actually hate it. you spent all your time trying to block it out rather than learning to control it. because when emotions are high, you almost become incapacitated. you can't move. you can't speak. you can only feel. you can feel Cate's desperation. her drive. her desire for self-preservation. you can feel Jordan's hatred. how much he wants to hurt Cate. how much they're holding back to protect you. you can also feel Emma, Marie and even Sam. You bury your head in your hands. you want it to stop. you need it to stop. the tears were your own now.

"I couldn't let her hurt you." Cate urges once more. you know it's true. she has such strong convictions. she works so hard. and fights even harder. she has been mistreated all her life so it's no wonder that she works to protect whatever affection she can find. "I did this for all of you. I'm gonna protect us all"

"I- I need to leave," you mumble into your hands. a pressure against your back fills you with such intense energy that you bat it away. it was just Jordan trying to help. a reassuring hand. sometimes people forget you feel everything they're feeling. "I- sorry," you scramble to your feet. you hadn't meant to be so aggressive. it was their own anger anyway. "I just- I need to leave."

"I love you," Cate cries as you stumble for the exit. you couldn't be here anymore. you needed to get away from Cate. you need to get away from them all.

// NEXT

#gen v #cate dunlap #cate dunlap x reader #jordan li #the boys #maddie phillips

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lethalchiralium · 2 years

Text

Almost Out Of Time | Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

a/n: how i wrote this so quickly we’ll never know. if it sucks, it sucks.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

summary: you couldn’t believe it, your eyes, your heart, your brain - not everything was as it seemed. plus, ghost has a few… choice words for you.

WARNINGS: Violence, talk about bodily harm, surgery, bullets, guns, cussing (let me know if i missed anything!)

Next Parts! Obvious | I Heard A Rumour

“Holy fuck.”

Whispers won’t save you now.

You watched the building explode into an inferno through your sniper rifle scope, your left hand immediately on your radio.

“Anyone from 141, copy! This is Riot.” Your voice was almost shaky, almost panicked - you just had eyes on Soap and Ghost before Hassan’s assholes exploded the building into flames. “Copy!” You could only watch in horror from your position as figures crawled out of the flames, silently screaming as you felt tears prick your eyes.

“-Price.”

“Captain?” Your voice almost began to shake as you watched through your scope - enemy soldiers were vacating the building. So, you began to pick them off. “Captain, what’s your status?”

“We’re pinned down - Shit-“ Another explosion. “Call for backup!” One, two, three more bodies drop by your rifle before your body went on auto-pilot, calling Graves in for an immediate evac. Pulling your bolt back, reloading another bullet as you continued to pick off men on fire, trying to put themselves out because they weren’t Price, Gaz, Soap, or Ghost.

“Evac is five minutes out, Riot - get in there and get them out!” Graves’ voice entered your ear, you pulled back your bolt again, watching as the enemies now slowed down at the threat of your bullet.

“The place is engulfed in flames - the enemy is all around the building, I’m picking them off so they can escape.”

“That’s an order, soldier.”

Pull back the bolt.

Wake up.

“What did you say?” You stifled an alarmed noise from your throat as you stood now, holding your rifle at your side. “Graves-“

“Evacuate the Task Force, Sergeant. That’s an order.”

Your voice didn’t feel like your own, when you looked down at your hand, it felt disconnected from the rest of your body.

Wake up, Y/N.

Your hand went to your head, your eyes closing as you whispered, “What?”

Wake up.

When your eyes opened again, your body erupted in intense pain, a gut-wrenching scream leaving your lips. Your hands immediately tried to lift away from your sides but was met by handcuffs, trying to fight off the assailant from continuing to hurt you-

“Riot. Ri.”

“Fuck off!” You answered, teeth immediately gritting and eyes closing again. “Fuck! Don’t you have any morphine?!”

“It’s either keep the bullet in or take it out, Riot.” Price.

“What-What happened?” You exhaled, still feeling some sort of metal dig into your stomach, almost screaming again. A hand gently pressed onto your forehead, pushing your head back onto whatever surface you were laying on. If you had free will of your hands, their neck would be wrung like a towel.

There was a cough a couple feet away, you took a deep breath again, trying to not scream again as you assumed that Price was the one pulling out a supposed bullet from your abdomen. “They released some sort of gas in the room, you were the closest to it and you sort of went berserk. Price n’ I were already out and Ghost had to get ya.”

You squeezed your hands tightly, trying to breathe but it was getting harder. “Ghost.”

“‘Ere.” How close his voice was almost scared you, you opened one eye to see that familiar mask hovering above you, it was his hand on your forehead.

“Morphine’s in my pack.” You whispered through your teeth. He looked up and away.

“Soap - get Riot’s med-pack,” Ghost barked, he looked towards Price. “Can’t you hurry up?”

“I’m sorry that my medic is on my table.” Price snapped back, another jolt of pain and another scream left your mouth.

“For fuck’s sake-“ You couldn’t look at Ghost anymore before closing your eye again. “Soap!”

“I’m comin’, dammit! Give me a second!”

You began to feel numb now, head rolling to the side and eyes into the back of your skull. The throbbing in your abdomen disappeared completely and all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat and the distant words of Ghost.

“Riot, Riot!”

•••

When you woke again, you recognized the ceiling. It was a beautiful ghostly blue, which meant you were in Vienna - the Vienna safe house. How long were you out?

“Y/N.”

If you had the energy to jump out of your skin, you would’ve. Your eyes darted to your right, noticing as Ghost walked towards you. Your head felt like cement, every part of your body being held tightly by chains. Your throat was itching.

“Water.” Ghost reached behind him and detached his canteen from his pack, unscrewing the cap as he finally placed himself in the seat beside you. He reached forwards, one hand pulling down your chin and the other not-so delicately pouring water into your mouth. If you weren’t so damn thirsty, you would’ve coughed it up but you drank every drop.

Ghost pulled the canteen away, moving his touch from your chin and you only stared at him. He screwed the canteen shut, eyes not meeting yours just yet. “Simon.” Your voice was just a croak but his head still moved up towards you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now, because of the drugs in your system and the balaclava on his face. You would be able to if he looked you in the eye and in the next twenty seconds you magically became sober, but you’re not - you’re stuck in a shitty bed in a shitty safe house with injuries that you couldn’t name just yet. “What…what happened?”

“Russians. Threw in some kind of mind-control gas and it only really effected you - you almost killed me. And when you missed me, you almost-“ Ghost cleared his throat, still looking down at your bed as he sat back in his chair. “They stabbed you, shot you in the abdomen before I could take ‘em out. I-I’m sorry.”

Then the fire must have been a dream.

“And about what I said the other day-“

“Simon.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just- hurt you.” That was the moment you two locked eyes again. If you didn’t know all that you did about Ghost, you would’ve thought he gave you just a blank stare. But there was guilt, a hell of a lot of it. “No. No, I shouldn’t have told you that I regretted what I said to you our first night.”

You stared at him now, still feeling the heaviness of the drugs but also the intense feeling of confusion. “Si…”

“You mean everything to me.” He whispered, didn’t even dare to breathe as he continued, “I know you don’t want a relationship with me, I can live with that. I know you don’t want others to know, I’ll live with that too. I can’t live if you aren’t mine.” One of his hands reached forwards, pressed gently against your cold cheek. “Tell me I can be here for you, tell me that I can stay because I want to. I was a fuckin’ asshole for saying that I wouldn’t stay with you - I just- I just didn’t know how deeply I loved you. Still, love you. Because I saw you so helpless, I couldn’t do anything and I realized just how important you are. To my friends, to my team, and to me. So, please…”

If you had any control of your body, you would’ve held his hand. Would have leapt into his arms but your brain took hold again, ever the cautious Riot.

“You’ll never leave?”

Ghost nodded.

“Good.”

He smiled, you knew it by how his eyes closed a little.

“Guess you’re haunted now.”

———

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley cod #ghost cod #cod mw22 #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

Text

Healing Touch

Summary: It's ironic that your soulmate would be the one to save your life after sharing a pain connection with him. After the base you work at is attacked, you meet your soulmate, a loyal, dedicated clone who is willing to do anything to keep you two together.

Pairing: Kix x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Kix is a freak, cum eating, oral, lots of discussion of pain and injuries, reader gets a really bad injury, life threatening injuries, blood, brief gore, medical stuff, soulmate AU, bad jokes.

A/N: I kinda hate this one but here you go. A surprise update to this series. I feel bad about not posting anything in a bit so I wrote some stuff. Also kind of inspired by a thread about friends of nurses who say they're a bunch of freaks. I'll let that speak for itself.

MASTERLIST

Pain is nothing new to Kix.

Though he’s usually the one treating others in pain, he’s had his fair share of injuries as well. Being in active combat had its risks, and he often witnessed them firsthand. He was also used to phantom pains that seemed to plague him every so often. Pain in his fingers and hands, like burns or the dull ache after pinching your finger between something. There were occasional deeper pains and aches, but after the war started it got harder and harder to determine which ones were his and which weren’t.

His soulmate link, he had figured out quickly after a panicked scan to make sure he wasn’t injured, or perhaps defective and suffering from some ailment they were supposed to be immune to.

It was ironic, really, that his soulmate link would be pain. Each soulmate feels the phantom pain of the others injuries. Though he had avoided some nasty injuries, he still feels bad for his soulmate. Not that they weren’t also constantly getting hurt as well, but theirs were more small pains than anything. In the rare moments when he wasn’t busy, he liked to try and picture what had happened, what they could be doing.

It’s what keeps him sane when the missions get bad, when they go wrong, when he has to look past his brothers' suffering as he tries to save them.

He often worries in the dead of night. What if something happens to his soulmate? Are they involved in the war? What if their planet gets attacked and no one’s there to help? Sometimes he lays there and waits for the inevitable excruciating pain of a fatal wound, or the blinding pain of losing his soulmate. He worries about something happening to him as well. He doesn’t want to do that to his soulmate. He’d watched far too many troopers die, far too many leaving their soulmates without ever having the chance to meet them.

It happens one day, when his worst nightmares come to life.

They had just finished a hard won campaign against the Separatists and Kix was still hard at work in the med-bay patching up those who were less severely injured. It takes him a moment to realize what’s happening, a strange feeling blossoming in his right side below his ribs.

Then the pain hits him.

He doubles over, barely catching himself on the gurney Fives was seated on.

“Kix,” Fives puts a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

Kix grits his teeth, trying to breathe through the sharp, stabbing pain in his right side. Had he been injured and not noticed until now as his adrenaline begins to crash? He can’t feel anything on his side, no wound, no blood, nothing. Had he taken a hit and not noticed?

“Come on,” Fives says, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t look too good.”

He was supposed to be checking Fives for a concussion, but instead here he is being escorted onto an empty gurney by his patient. A droid runs a scan, checking everything but there’s nothing. Still, the pain burns through him, sharp and stabbing with every breath in.

It’s not him.

It’s his soulmate.

Many things begin to rush through his head. Had something happened? Is it some sort of organ failure, perhaps? With the pain where it is, it could be any number of things. An injury? Illness? Are they getting help? Can they get help?

A comforting hand on his shoulder brings him back from his racing thoughts. Fives knows. Most of the squad knows. They trusted each other on the battlefield, and with their deepest secrets. He presses his hand into his side, taking a deep breath. He wishes he could ease the pain even a little.

The doors slide open, Rex stepping in.

“Kix, Fives, we need every able bodied trooper ready for a debrief in ten minutes.” He says.

“What’s going on?” Fives asks. “We just finished a campaign.”

“We’re being rerouted.” Rex says. “There was an attack on a base nearby. They need as many hands as they can get.”

Kix tries not to let his thoughts take over as he rouses every physically able trooper. He can’t think about his soulmate right now. He has a job to do.

***

Kix’s hands are shaking. He rarely lets himself get affected by the injuries he sees. He’s seen a lot, he has been trained to see a lot. Combat medics see the worst of things, and they weren’t supposed to break. They had to be prepared for anything. Calm under intense pressure, stable enough to be quick thinkers and ready to take charge if needed.

The carnage left from the attack is some of the worst he’s seen.

These weren’t just clones.

There are civilians.

Most of them are civilians. Engineers and mechanics employed by the GAR. Clone armor wasn’t impenetrable, but it offered a lot of protection against injuries and wounds. He’d seen clones survive what should have been a fatal shot because of their armor. Civilians don’t have armor. Most of them don’t see combat so there was no point to them wearing armor. Most of them stayed on bases, safe from the danger of combat.

At least, the bases are supposed to be safe.

The 18th Battalion had arrived shortly before them and had already begun locating and treating survivors. They were already working to stabilize those in the worst condition to shuttle them to the cruisers to get more intensive care.

There’s still civilians inside.

Most of the troopers were working their way through the ruins of the base, searching for more survivors. Most of them had been accounted for. Either managing to escape harm, or were already being treated. There were still many that were still missing. Kix knows trying to find all of them is impossible, but they had confirmed areas where there were injured civilians still, or they had heard voices calling out for help.

“This thing could collapse any minute.” Crash says as the mangled roof groans dangerously above them.

“There’s one right up ahead.” Kix says, staring at the map.

Something falls off in the distance, the crash echoing through the air before it settles. Both troopers share a look before pressing forward, stepping carefully. Kix’s side still aches, pain still burning through him, but he pushes onward. He has a job to do. He can only hope his soulmate is alright.

There’s nothing he can do to help.

He moves forward with Crash, stepping around a piece of collapsed roof. The civilian marked on the map is right there, sitting against a piece of still-intact wall. It doesn’t take Kix long to figure out why no one has helped her yet. A piece of rebar has impaled her through her right side.

She’s still awake, wide eyed and breathing shallowly. One look at her eyes tells Kix she’s in shock. She’s soaked in sweat and pale, blood staining her light blue shirt. He kneels down in front of her, taking a quick scan. She’s uninjured aside from the rebar, which has gone straight through her and into the wall behind her.

“What’s your name?” He asks her.

She tells him, her voice weak and shaky.

“We’re going to get you out of here.” He says, the pain in his side increasing as Crash moves her just slightly to check how stuck the rebar is in the wall.

His eyes widen beneath his helmet and he stares at her for a moment. Where the rebar is in her side is almost exactly where the pain is on his side. It couldn’t be...could it?

“There’s no way of moving her without removing it.” Crash says.

Kix sighs. He knows moving her at all is going to be excruciating. He takes a second to assess things and calm himself before doing what he does best and takes charge. “We can’t risk removing it. She’ll bleed out before we can get her out of here. Is there enough room to cut it back there?”

“Barely.” Crash says. “It’ll be close.”

“We have to try.” Kix says.

Kix kneels in front of her, bending her top half forward just slightly, until he can feel the pain of the rebar moving inside of her. He lets her rest against his shoulder, her hands weakly lifting to cling to his arms as Crash cuts through the rebar behind her.

He doesn’t need to guess to know how much pain she’s in. He can feel it. He has no doubt he’s right in front of his soulmate. Oh how he wishes they’d met in a different way. It was ironic, though, that he’d be the one saving his soulmate’s life. He’s determined to do everything in his power to save her.

She cries out as the rebar jostles free, pain radiating through Kix as well. He breathes steadily, trying to comfort her as best he can. The pain begins to numb, her hands slipping from his arms. He pushes her so she’s sitting up slightly, hands cupping her cheeks.

“Hey,” He pats her face gently, her eyes fluttering. “Stay with me.”

Her eyes flutter before they crack open, staring at him blankly. He takes in their color, trying to memorize her face.

“Let's get her on the stretcher and onto a shuttle.” Kix says, forcing himself back into his roll. He needs to get her into a surgical pod sooner rather than later.

Navigating the building is hard as they carry the stretcher, Crash talking to her to try and keep her awake. He can barely hear her responses, and later Crash would tell him she was speaking nonsense. He’s not entirely sure she even knew what was happening.

They get her loaded onto a shuttle, Kix having to watch it fly away the hardest thing he’s had to do. He wanted to be there, wanted to stay by her side, wanted to make sure she was going to be alright, that they got to her in time. He would know if she died, if he had failed.

He shakes those thoughts from his mind, jumping back in to help the other injured civilians.

***

Your head is throbbing when you wake. You feel like you’ve swallowed sand, your mouth and throat dry and aching. There’s beeping around you, and a harsh sterile scent burns your nose. Something flashes behind your eyes and you force them open, blinking against the bright lights.

Something presses against your shoulders, keeping you still as you try to shift into a more comfortable position. Pain shoots through your right side, stealing your breath for a moment.

“Easy.” A voice says above you. You know that voice. “Didn’t think you’d be up so soon.”

You blink blearily up at the figure standing over you. Your vision is still blurry, your mind trying to catch up. You’re disoriented, feeling far away from your body.

“Here,” Something cold and wet touches your lips. “Drink.”

You drink through the straw, cold water hitting your dry mouth. You drink greedily, feeling refreshed as the sandy feeling in your mouth begins to disappear.

“Bacta makes my mouth feel dry too.”

You turn your head to look at the person standing next to you. He’s a clone, you can tell that much as your vision begins to clear. That’s why you recognize his voice. You’re no stranger to clones after working for the GAR for two years.

You press the heel of your hand into your forehead, closing your eyes. “Where am I?” You murmur, not even sure actual words come out.

“On a cruiser, heading for a medical station. Do you remember what happened?” He asks slowly.

You think for a moment. Do you remember? “It was a normal day at work.” You start, walking yourself through your day. “I was working on an attack shuttle. I had gone to grab a different tool when...” Horrible images flash through your mind. You remember being thrown, heat washing over you. Something hitting you, or you hitting something. Pain. You remember pain.

Something beeps rapidly beside you, the clone putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright. The base was attacked.” He explains. “You were injured badly. I was one of the ones that got you out. I wanted to come and check, make sure you were alright.”

You stare at him, taking him in. His head is buzzed, lightning bolts shaved into the short buzzed hair. There’s a tattoo on the side of his head, but you can’t see all of it from this angle. He’s handsome, as you thought most clones were. His armor is painted blue with the medic’s symbol on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” You say, staring up into his brown eyes. “For saving me.”

He smiles softly, running a hand over his head. “Well, it is my job. And I wasn’t about to let anything happen to my soulmate.”

You stare at him blankly, taking in his words. Soulmate?

“You have a pain link, right?” He asks, looking so hopeful.

You nod slowly, still trying to process his words. You had tried not to think too much about your soulmate. Your link had appeared later than you expected, little pains here and there, that blossomed into harsher ones more often. You wondered about your soulmate and if they were alright, until the war started. You had heard about people discovering their soulmates were clones and that’s why their links had shown up later.

You haven't put much thought into it. You were destined to meet eventually, and you trusted it would happen. You had been more focused on leaving home, on building your career.

He grabs a small needle pulling off his glove before pricking his finger with it. You feel the sharp pinch on your own finger, lifting your hand to stare at it.

Nothing.

No mark.

No blood.

You let your hand drop slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“My name’s Kix.” He says. “Medic with the 501st Legion.”

You tell him your name, introducing yourself with your status as a civilian engineer.

“I didn’t think this was how we were going to meet.” He says. “I’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew about clones, about the rules around soulmates. That’s partially why you refused to think too much about it. You don’t want to be rejected. You’re not sure you can handle that. “A-Aren’t you supposed to-”

“Technically.” He says, cutting you off with a grin. “Most of us don’t follow those rules.”

You stare at him for a moment. “But...”

“If all of us followed every rule, we probably would have lost the war already.” He leans against the side of the bed. “There’d be a lot fewer of us, anyway.”

Your brain feels like it's moving in slow motion. “So...you’re not going to reject me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “No. Not unless you want me to.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I just...didn’t expect...”

“I know it’s a lot. Especially after what just happened.” Kix says. “I just wanted you to know since we’ll be leaving after everyone’s offloaded at the medical station. I didn’t want to miss this chance in case we don’t cross paths again.”

Right. Their only job was getting you to the medical station. They still had a war to fight, so naturally they’d be leaving off to their next battle. You’re not sure where you’re going to end up now that the base you had been stationed at is gone. The chances of you two crossing paths again is slim, but you were soulmates for a reason.

You take his bare hand, squeezing it gently. You can feel it, the flow of energy between you two. His calloused fingers wrap around yours, and you try to memorize just how his skin feels against yours. “We’ll meet again.” You say, staring at your hands. “We are soulmates after all.”

He smiles, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You’re right. I just hope it’s under better circumstances.”

You can’t help but smile. “I hope so too. I’d be happy if I never had to go through that again.”

***

Your name is called as you make your way down the hallway.

After your brief stay at the medical station, you had been sent back to Coruscant to the GAR headquarters to await reassignment. You assumed you’d be staying on Coruscant, since the war was heating up and a bunch of dead civilian workers wasn’t exactly a good look.

You turn, one of the lead engineers walking up to you.

“I have your orders for your reassignment.” She says, handing you a datapad. “You’re loading up with the 501st when they arrive.”

“The 501st?” Your eyebrows lift in surprise.

“I hear they asked for you directly.” She says.

Your brows furrow. Kix was assigned to the 501st. Had he managed to pull some strings without giving anything away? You couldn’t risk revealing anything, not with the GAR directly involved. So how had he done it?

They arrive a few hours later. You’re patiently waiting on the airfield among crates of supplies to be loaded on. The venator cruiser kicks up a breeze as it lands, truly an engineering marvel. A huge floating city, capable of housing thousands. Ships weren’t your specialty, but you often found yourself working on their communication systems. You had been fixing one in a shuttle when the base was attacked.

You wait for the offloading of troops and supplies, heading into the ship as troopers begin moving supplies on. You look around the hangar, likely where you’ll spend most of your time. Shuttles and cruisers, and all other sorts of vehicles.

You eventually find the lead engineer, getting a tour and introduction to the cruiser. You had only been on one briefly, most of your knowledge about them being learned virtually during training. You had spent more time learning about the clone’s armor and how to fix any sort of malfunction or damage that may be caused. The functionality of their armor is essential, especially their helmets.

You’re eager to see Kix again. You want to know just how he’d managed to get you assigned to his battalion. You can’t be conspicuous, though. Even at this proximity, you still have to be careful. If the wrong person found out, it would spell disaster for both of you.

You’re checking through one of the supply rooms when he finds you. Your first task with the 501st had been to restock and organize the supplies getting loaded onto the ship. It was a typical task for a newbie, since you’d need to learn the layout of the supply room and where things are located in case you need them in a pinch.

“Hello, mesh’la.”

You nearly jump out of your skin as the deep voice breaks the silence of the supply closet. You spin around, finding Kix leaning against one of the shelves behind you. You hadn’t even heard him come in. That was precisely why you weren’t a soldier.

“Kix!” You put a hand on your chest. “You scared me!”

He grins. “Sorry. Thought you heard me come in.”

You shake your head. “I was too focused, I guess.”

“It’s good to see you.” He says, stepping closer. “I missed you.”

It has been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. You’ve missed him too. You’d felt it, the longing deep in your soul for its other half. The distance, the lack of contact had begun to eat at you. It’s easing now with him so close. Even though you’ve just been reunited, your entire body is already relaxing.

“I missed you too.” You say, stepping closer to him.

He pushes the cart out of the way, stepping up right in front of you. You stare up at him, his fingers grazing over your side. “How do you feel?”

“Completely healed.” You say with a smile. “Hardly more than a scar left.”

“Good.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. You’ve never been this close to him before, but it feels right. “I hated feeling you in pain.”

“I hated being in pain.” You reply, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Though, whatever you did to your foot a week ago, that sucked.”

He grins sheepishly. “Would you believe me if I told you that was a box of medical supplies?”

You stare at him for a moment. “No.”

He chuckles. “I’ll tell you about it later.” He leans down, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, how did you manage to get me assigned to the 501st?” You ask, pulling away slightly.

He lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I may have told Rex and had him put in a special request.”

You stare at him wide eyed.

“Don’t worry,” He tries to ease your concern. “He’s not going to say anything. None of them are.”

“What did you do, tell the whole squad?” You ask.

“The whole platoon, actually.” He says sheepishly.

“You were the one that said we had to be careful.” You punch his shoulder, the plastoid harder than you expected it to be.

“I think that hurt you more than me.” He says, taking your hand and inspecting your sore knuckles. “But don’t worry. No one’s going to say anything. We’ve all been sworn to secrecy about each other’s soulmates. It’s a sort of unspoken law among clones.”

“That’s sweet.” You say, captivated by his fingers as they gently massage your hand.

“I’ll introduce you tonight during third meal.” He says. “When everyone’s back on board.”

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be out enjoying your shore leave?” You ask.

“I wanted to see you.” He says.

You stare up at his face, at those big brown eyes. “You’re being all sweet on me now, making me nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous.” He soothes, wrapping his arms back around your waist. “I’m just a goofy guy who's never really talked to a woman before outside of a professional setting.”

You stare at him open mouthed. “You’ve never...”

He shrugs. “Never really wanted to.”

You lean against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “Well, you’re doing a good job.”

He chuckles, the sound deep in his chest. “Thanks.” He holds you for a few moments before letting you go. “I’ll come by the lab and show you around later, okay?”

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

He swoops down, kissing your cheek before leaving you a bit flustered in the supply closet.

***

Despite how close you two are, you barely get to see Kix. With the 501st constantly on the move, constantly going from one campaign to the next, you’re very busy and so is Kix. You mostly see each other in passing, or in the mess hall, or occasionally in a stolen moment in a supply closet. You only see him in the med bay twice, there usually for burns on your fingers, things you’ve become almost numb to in your years of working as a mechanic and engineer.

You finally get a quiet moment to yourselves on a long journey from one side of the galaxy to the other. Well, it wasn’t exactly that far, but it was a long trip. You’re glad for the break, and glad for the quiet moment you get to spend with Kix.

He tells you to meet him in the barracks, a place you hadn’t really explored much. You weren’t really supposed to go into the clone barracks, especially as a civilian unless it was an emergency.

This was an emergency, you were about to go crazy from the longing to be close to him again. The GAR wouldn’t see it that way though.

You’re extra careful, slipping in quickly as he waves you over from the door. It’s empty besides the two of you, Kix leading you over to his bunk.

“How’d you get everyone to leave?” You ask, laying down and stretching out. They’re not any more comfortable than the civilian bunks.

“I may have promised to buy the boys a couple extra rounds on our next shore leave.” He says, stretching himself out next to you. He’s stripped from his armor, left in his blacks.

“Another unspoken clone law?” You ask, tracing your fingers over the muscles visible under the tight bodysuit.

“Well, they know why I’m doing it.” He says, his hand settling on your waist. “I just figured you’d prefer some quiet privacy. They’d pretend to ignore us, but they’d be listening the whole time.”

You hum, kissing him softly. “Then I thank you for your sacrifice of a couple rounds.”

He grins against your lips, pulling you closer against his chest. “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

You pause for a moment, a tingle running down your spine as he calls you “ma’am.” You’ll have to lock that one away for later. He pulls you back to him, kissing you harder. You lose yourself in him, letting all of the stress and fear and emotions over the last few weeks go. You worried about Kix, every time they left on a campaign. You monitored comms as often as you could, for more than just your job of making sure everything was functioning. You waited anxiously to hear that Kix is alright, that he’s still alive and well.

“How long do we have?” You murmur against his lips as he rolls you onto your back, settling on top of you.

“An hour or so.” He says, lips leaving your lips to kiss down your jaw.

“Is that going to be enough time?” You ask.

He smirks against your neck, nipping at the skin. “I’ll make you cum at least twice before then.”

You smirk, lifting your arms as he tugs your shirt over your head. “Is that a challenge?”

“No,” He smirks, hands cupping your breasts. “It’s a promise.”

You gasp as his lips close around one of your nipples, tugging it gently with his teeth. You’re already wet, your underwear sticking uncomfortably to you. You can feel him pressed up against your thigh, painfully hard through his blacks. You’ve both been waiting for this, eagerly anticipating this moment. You wish you had all the time in the world to do this, but you’re lucky enough to even get an hour of privacy together.

You can’t wait for this war to be over with.

He continues his kisses down your stomach, tugging your pants and underwear down. You let your legs fall open for him, his eyes staring hungrily at your soaked pussy. Your cheeks warm a bit as he stares at you, his eyes dark and lust-blown. His hands hold your thighs as he leans in, licking a stripe along your slit. You gasp at the sensation, his tongue dragging over your clit.

You have to be careful not to make too much noise. Anyone walking past could hear, and with your luck it would be the wrong person. You’d get in so much trouble, both of you.

You press a hand over your mouth as he dives right in, eating you like a man starved. He was, in a way. You had put this off far too long. You’d snuck a hand into your panties in the dead of night a few times while thinking of him, trying to take the edge off as you waited for the opportune moment.

Nothing compared to the feel of him, though.

His tongue thrusts into you, licking at your walls as his nose presses against your clit. You curse behind your hand, your other hand gripping the sheets under you.

It doesn’t take you long to cum, his tongue lapping up every last bit of your orgasm. You’re close to overstimulated when he finally pulls away, face glistening in the low light of the barracks. You drag him up, kissing him deeply. He groans against your mouth, hips pressing against yours.

You break the kiss to tug his blacks over his head, your hands trailing down his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle. Your fingers trace every little scar, every little mark. He tugs his pants down, kicking them off the end of the bed and your fingers continue lower, wrapping around his thick length.

He presses his face into your neck, groaning as you work your hand over him. “Kriff, you feel so good.” He murmurs. “Better than I ever could.”

You smile, parting your legs a bit so he can settle between them. “Isn’t that the point.”

He leans up on his elbows over you, staring down at you. “You’re going to ruin me forever.”

“That’s my job.” You say, lining him up.

You bury your face in his shoulder as he eases into you, moving slowly. It’s a stretch, far bigger than you had anticipated. He pauses once he’s seated inside you, making you feel full and connected. You can feel it, the connection building between you two. There was no going back now.

He slowly begins to rock his hips, holding onto you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him as close as you can. You can feel him deep in your very soul, the connection between you two solidifying. You’re two halves of one whole, one soul shared between two bodies. This was what you were meant for, not what the GAR forced you to do, hiding and keeping secrets.

You wish the war would end. You wish you could steal him away, live a happy life somewhere free of war, free of the GAR, free of everything. A life happy together, where nothing has to be a secret, and you can take as much time as possible. Where you can shout your love for him as loud as you want.

You use his shoulder to muffle your moans, his own groans muffled by your neck. You move seamlessly, meeting his thrusts. You’re already close again, the tautness of his body telling you he’s close too.

“Cum for me.” He whispers, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. “Let me feel you.”

You cum around him, nails digging into his back. He cums with a groan, emptying inside you. You lay still for a moment, simply breathing each other in.

Kix leans up, kissing your lips before sliding down your body. You watch, leaning up a bit as he settles between your thighs once more. You can feel his cum starting to leak out of you, Kix watching for a moment before he leans in, closing his mouth around your pussy. You breathe out a curse, flopping back on the bed as he cleans you with his mouth. It’s unexpected and obscene as he slurps at your pussy, your skin burning.

You can feel it, another orgasm approaching. You bite into the skin of your arm, keeping yourself quiet as he sucks at your clit, forcing you over the edge a third time.

He laps at your folds for a few more seconds before sliding back up your body, gently tugging your arm free from your mouth. He soothes over the mark with his fingers. “You’ll want to clean that.” He says, so easily switching into medic mode. “Human bites can be very dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, doctor.”

He pauses, eyes widening as he stares down at you. You file that away too. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I kept my promise.”

You laugh against his lips. “You did. And a bonus.”

“I did say ‘at least twice’.” He says, sitting up on the bed. “I’d make it a lot more than that if we had time.”

You grin, sitting up next to him. “Save that for the next shore leave.”

He smirks, patting your ass as you move to grab your discarded clothes. You wash up in the fresher, trying to make yourself appear like you hadn’t just been fucking a clone in the barracks. Kix puts his armor back on, checking both ways before you step out of the barracks.

You walk closely, wishing you could hold his hand, but you know you can’t. You silently curse the GAR and their stupid rules. You can’t wait for this war to be over.

You’re so close to the elevator when your names are called from down the hall, both of you freezing. You turn, eyes widening a bit at the sight of General Skywalker approaching.

“G-General.” Kix says, standing up straighter.

General Skywalker looks between you, crossing his arms. “What are you two up to?”

“I was, uh, having some calibration issues with my helmet.” Kix quickly lies.

“Uh huh. And you had to fix that in the barracks?” General Skywalker asks, crossing his arms.

“Well, I needed to make sure it would connect with the others, and it was easier to just check it where they all were gathered, instead of disturbing them and making them come down to the lab.” You nervously explain. You know he doesn’t believe you. You’re absolutely screwed.

“Right.” The General nods. “That’s very thoughtful of you, not wanting to disturb them.”

“Yeah,” You nod. “They work so hard, they need all the rest they can get.”

“I still have some work to do, so we were heading to the mess to grab some caf.” Kix says, trying to explain why you were now leaving together.

“Very busy.” You nod, trying to make it as believable as possible.

The General looks between you two for a moment before nodding. “Then I should let you get back to it.”

You don’t relax, even as you turn to continue down the hall. Your shoulders are still tense, nerves running high. You had tried so hard not to get caught, and then here you were, getting caught by the General of all people.

“You know,” The General says, making you two stop dead in your tracks. “That’s not a bad excuse.” You both turn, looking over your shoulders at the General. “I might have to use that some day.”

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry, @6oceansofmoons, @ladytano420, @spicy-clones, @dangraccoon, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @stunkbiggu, @endofthexline, @rosechi

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #trooper kix #clone trooper kix #clone trooper kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Note

RYEWID thought...like a year or two after the main story, Bradley smacks his head hard and everyone panics and nobody wants to be the one to call Pumpkin to tell her the her husband is a dumbass who wasn't paying attention and now he needs stitches. But the good news is it shakes lose a few memories. Like Pumpkin is PISSED and Bradley is like hey remember that vacation we went on? I really liked that ice cream from that place we should go visit. And everyone is like bro wtf?!?!? You're in the hospital moron 😭🤣

Nonny, I loved this ask so much. I absolutely love hearing RYEWID thoughts so thank you so much for sending it to me! I couldn't help myself and wrote a little blurb about this scenario. I really hope you like it!🧡

---- Warnings: language, head wounds, Bradley being clumsy and worrying his wife Word Count: 777 Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (Forgetful Boy x Pumpkin)

----

It was the worst kind of deja vu. You were sitting at your desk in the middle of the afternoon when your phone rang, Jake’s name staring back at you. Your hand shook as you answered it.

“Jake?”

“Hey, dollface. So uh…there’s been a little bit of an accident.”

Anxiety clawed at you as he explained that Bradley had hit his head at work. He had just landed on the tarmac after a hop and had missed a step as he climbed out of his Super Hornet. He had tried to catch himself, but had hit the side of his head against the ladder and then the ground when he fell.

“He’s fine,” Jake assured you, and you could practically hear the roll of his eyes through the phone, “he’s just a concussed dumbass who needs stitches.”

Still, worst case scenarios sped through your mind the whole way to the hospital on base. By the time you made it through the emergency room doors, your heart was in your throat and you thought you were going to throw up. The nurse at the front desk took in your frazzled appearance and gave you a sympathetic look of her own as she handed you a visitor badge and Bradley’s room number.

You practically sprinted down the hallway, tears stinging your eyes against your will. You barely registered the laughter filtering out of the partially open door before you burst through it. Your eyes immediately landed on Bradley where he sat on the edge of the bed, still in his flight suit, hand holding a red stained towel to his head. He looked dazed when he looked over, but a smile tugged at his lips when he met your eyes.

“Hey, Pumpkin.”

Relief rushed through you when he spoke the name. Several of your friends were crowded in the small room, but you paid them no mind as you rushed to your husband’s side, nearly tripping over Jake’s extended legs.

“Are you okay?” you asked urgently.

“I’m fine,” he assured, and with his free hand he tugged you between his dangling legs and wrapped his arm around your back in a loose hug. You’re mindful of the wound on his head as you accept the embrace gratefully. You kissed his cheek when you pulled away, before surveying every inch of his face. You stared into his eyes for a long moment, checking for any sign of confusion or lack of recognition. But it was your Bradley staring back at you, his dark gaze unfocused from the pain meds they had given him on his arrival, but him, nonetheless. You heaved out a long breath as some of the stress left you. Then your face twisted into a glare and you smacked his arm.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! It hasn’t even been a year yet since the last time, Bradley! Jesus!”

Someone snickered behind you but you’re too focused on the man sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s still smiling despite your ire.

“What?” you demanded, “why are you smiling? This is not a smiling matter.”

“I remembered something,” he said, and he looked so happy that you thought it must be something of significance to him. You wracked your brain thinking of what he still hadn’t remembered that could cause this excitement, but he kept going before you could ask.

“You don’t drink Fireball because you threw up all over your date at a frat party in college after taking too many shots of it,” he announced loudly, smile stretching. Your eyes widened in alarm. “And seeing me play pool at the Hard Deck makes you horn-”

You slapped a hand over his mouth to stop him from continuing. Heat erupted under your skin as your friends laughed. You cleared your throat in embarrassment.

“Let’s save these memories for when we’re alone, okay?”

He looked completely unbothered and so damn proud of himself at the same time, like he always did when he remembered something. He kissed your palm, mumbling unintelligible words into your skin. You removed your hand so he could speak clearly.

“What?”

“Love you,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Some of the embarrassment, anger, and pure fear that you had been feeling faded away as a surge of love and fondness shot through you. You pressed another kiss to his cheek. “I love you too.”

Right as the doctor walked into the room to stitch the cut, though, Bradley smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. The look he gave you was full of mischief. “You can definitely punish me for it later if you want. I know you like that, too.”

----

Forgetful Boy Masterlist :: Forgotten Moments Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: This was very fun. I love them so so much🧡

Tagging some of my Forgetful Boy loyalists off the top of my head:

@mak-32 @roosterforme @greatszu @sometimesanalice @gretagerwigsmuse @laracrofted @wkndwlff @bellaireland1981 @teacupsandtopgun @je-suis-prest-rachel @na-ta-sh-aa @gigisimsonmars @crustyhoneybadger @notroosterbradshaw @lt-spork @ijustwantedplums @jynxmirage @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

#alli writes #remember you even when i don’t #bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy #the forgotten moments #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #ask alli

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goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Purpose

summary: after being shot by Pryde, Hux wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

relationship: General Hux x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, a lil angsty, fluff, fix-it fic

word count: 1.5k

A/N: the doc i wrote this in is literally called “hux survives, i have spoken”, and i think that sums it up really well lol ((also i know that's not hux in the gif but when i saw it i literally went 😳 so i had to use it))

prompt used: All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all. (source, by @/incorrectprompts)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

“Get me the Supreme Leader.”

That’s the last thing Hux heard after being launched back several metres from the blaster impact.

“Tell him we found our spy,” Allegiant General Pryde finished in a self-satisfactory tone, giving the blaster back to the trooper next to him.

— — —

Hux wakes up with a gasp.

The sudden intake of air burns through his lungs, like he hadn’t breathed in years. He can tell he’s lying on a cushioned surface, but is still too weak to sit up and check his surroundings.

Blinking away the pain and dryness in his eyes, they adapt to the light in the room. The ceiling above him is wooden, as are the walls. Hux looks to his right, where he spots a door on the far wall. Closer to him there’s several beeping and blinking control panels, with multiple cables and tubes emerging from the machinery.

Slowly turning his head to the left, he sees a big desk with papers and different medical instruments. A med droid stands in front of it with its back to him, too busy doing whatever med droids do while the patient is unconscious.

Hux concludes that he's probably in a cabin, given how rustic the construction looks. And now that the grogginess melted away, he can feel the waves of pain starting to crash onto him.

His chest hurts.

His legs hurt. Especially his left thigh.

He’s pretty sure his pride hurts too, even though he can’t exactly recall what happened and how he got here.

He dares a look at himself, looking down on his body, and only now does he realise that he’s all bandaged up, and bacta tubing surrounds his torso and leg.

The redhead tries sitting up on the bed but fails, quickly slumping back down with a pained cry. This catches the attention of the droid, who turns around, leaving some instruments it was holding on the table.

“You’re awake,” the droid notes. “I will let the Master know.”

“Master? Who?” Hux manages to croak out; his throat is incredibly dry.

The droid ignores his question and exits the room. Not a minute later, you appear through the door and hurriedly make your way to him. Next to the bed you stop for a second, looking at him with big eyes, as if to make sure it’s really him.

“By the Maker,” you finally let out with a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake.”

A sob shakes your body as you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. Your body gives out and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as gently as you can while the tears come rolling down freely over your cheeks. Hux wants to hold you, comfort you, but his body is not responding. He can only helplessly watch as your hands fist the blanket around him, trying to hold on to something.

Slowly the fog in his brain starts lifting, revealing the memory of what happened on Ren’s ship. With it also comes the realisation that you had somehow managed to save him.

Hux wants to say something, but your cries build a knot in his throat and a pain in his chest that aren’t the result of his injuries. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your head while he thinks back to how you had met all those years ago. How you had slowly and unknowingly picked away at his walls, how you had started falling for each other. How you had listened to each of his rants, laughed at his jokes. How you had comforted him when his life's work, Starkiller base, was blown to bits. How you had always been at his side, anchoring him.

And now here he was again, only still breathing because you saved him.

Finally getting your cries under control, you look up at your lover, holding his face with both your hands, smoothing over his cheekbones with your thumbs. Hux bites back a pained whimper as he reaches up to wipe away the tears from your cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

“What happened?” Hux asks after a moment.

“Pryde shot you after figuring out you let the rebels escape,” you retell.

Hux looks down at his chest. Through the partially transparent bacta tubing he can make out a scar on his chest where there surely should have been a hole. His brows furrow.

“How long was I out?” he questions, bringing his gaze back to you.

“26 rotations,” you answer. “Not that I've been keeping count or anything.”

“Twenty– wha– How did you–” Hux is so stunned he can’t form a proper sentence.

You give him a bittersweet smile as you retell how it all went down. You were on Ren’s Destroyer when he got shot. Two troopers carried his body from the bridge. You intercepted them and had them carry Hux into the med bay at gunpoint, where you ended up stunning them. After hooking up the General to the machines and essentially kidnapping one of the med droids, you got into an escape pod and made it to a small moon in the Bryx system, where you happened to know someone. They let you stay in this little cabin since they were currently off-world.

Hux listens intently, trying to wrap his head around the fact you essentially deserted the First Order just to save him. Meanwhile you unhook him from some of the machines except for the IV fluids.

“Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat and drink,” you offer, turning away from the bed. But his hand shoots up to hold your arm and pull you back to sit.

“Just- just stay for a moment,” Hux pleads in a quiet voice, his face contorting in pain for a second from his action.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand in yours, and sit back down on the bed.

For a moment you just sit there in silence, taking in each other’s presence.

“So, what happened?” Hux asks after a while.

“I… I just told you?” you retort, bringing your hand to his forehead to see if he has a fever. “Are you feeling dizzy or something?”

“No,” he says with a huff as he shakes his head and you remove your hand. “I mean what happened with the First Order, the rebels… with Ren?”

“Oh Armitage,” you say with an amused tone, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. “You barely made it out alive and you're still obsessed with him?”

Hux scoffs.

“I’m not obsessed,” he grumbles.

“Well, whatever the case, you don't have to worry about him anymore,” you respond, averting your eyes to look somewhere beyond the walls. “His whole Destroyer went down. Just like the First Order. The resistance won.” You look back at him. “Ren is gone.”

Hux doesn’t answer, his face unreadable.

“Ren lost,” you remark, raising a brow at his lack of response. This was what he had been wanting after all. “You won.”

“Hm. This isn't exactly how I was picturing it,” Hux remarks.

“I know,” you say softly, caressing his cheek. “But the thing is, it's all over now. I'm pretty sure we’re the sole survivors from that ship. Everyone will think we’re dead. We get a fresh start, Armitage. A clean slate.”

Hux huffs, deep in thought, and slightly incredulous. You can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes again.

“I’m just glad you’re still alive,” you say, unable to stop your voice from cracking. “All I want is to be by your side. So you stay put, rest, and heal up, okay?” The tears start rolling freely again. “We’ll be fine.”

Hux’s gaze softens infinitely, his usual stern and cold glare now a warm, inviting ocean. He swallows hard.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he whispers, leaning into your hand which still cups his face. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” His eyes leave yours to look up at the ceiling. “I don't think I deserve this. You should have left me behind.”

You turn his face to you so he meets your eyes again.

“Please don’t say that. I would never give up on you,” you assure him. “All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all.”

You lean in to place the softest of kisses on his now chapped lips, then kiss the corner of his mouth, his nose, his cheek. You don’t pull back, whispering into his skin.

“It might feel like you have no purpose left right now but–”

“It’s you,” he interrupts you. “You are my purpose.”

You let out a shuddering breath, kissing him again, and he melts into you.

“You can decide what's next,” he says after you pull back. You smile down at him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“We'll decide together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Date Night (A Night In) Steve X You

A/N: I wrote this last night because my period is being aggressive and I just need sensitive Steve to come over and take care of me <3.

Warning: Period, Shower smut, lots of fluff

Word Count: 2022

Steve was surprised when he came home and your car was already in the driveway. As he opened the door, he was met with total chaos.

“Hey!”, he claps his hands immediately silencing the younger Harrington boys. “Why is everyone yelling?!”

“Junior is being mean and won’t let me play the game!”

“It’s not Andrew’s turn. Plus, he’s been playing it since he got home an hour ago!”

“Hey, what’s the rule? What’s the rule?!”, Steve repeats as the boy’s whine.

“If we can’t share, it becomes yours.”, they respond in unison.

“Good. Now, where is Bobby?”

“He’s lying in bed with mom. She was here when we got home and Grandma dropped him off earlier.”, Junior shrugged as he focused his eyes back to the TV.

“Ok, I’ll be right back. You guys are packed, right? Aunt Robin should be here soon.”

He waves his hand at them as they nod, climbing the stairs to find you. When he opens your bedroom door, he finds his youngest fast asleep on his side in front of you. You were asleep as well but you were gently groaning as your nose scrunched occasionally in pain.

When Steve lifted the covers to grab his son to let you rest, he noticed you had laid a towel under your hips. He softly caressed your face before lifting Bobby and carrying him down the stairs.

##############

You stirred a little while later to the sound of your name.

“What? Huh? Fuck, the boys…?”

“Baby, baby calm down. It’s ok. They’re with Robin. Here, I brought you some pain meds.”

You gladly took them, chugging down the glass of water Steve brought up with him. He sat on the bed, chuckling as you wrapped your body around his back like a snake. “Is it bad again this month?” He sighs when you nod. “Do you think you should—”

“No… no. It’s fine. Nothing too abnormal.”

Since high school Steve knew your periods killed you. They were bad then but as you got older it seemed to knock you on your ass less. After having Junior, though, it steadily got worse again. The months when it had you in bed, wincing, and crying scared him to death. He hated seeing you in pain.

“Honey, I know you’re scared to talk to the doctor but—”

“Steve! I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay!?”

He exhales again, watching as you try to get out of bed but fail. Steve comes around to your side, carefully lifting you in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom. As you use the toilet you can’t help but laugh at him as he leans against the sink.

“You don’t have to stand in here with me. I’m not broken.”

He smiles at your tone. “Yeah, but I find any mystery in a marriage to be overrated.”

You giggle at him before completing your needs and standing to scoot towards the sink. Steve places his hand on your lower back mostly to let you know you had support if you felt shaky.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just…hormones.”

You grin up at him as he delicately pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Y/N, I get it. I know… you’re worried about what she might say when it comes to more kids but… Honey, I just want you to be healthy and happy.”

“I know. One of the reasons I love you.” You lean back to look up at him and he bends slightly to kiss your lips.

“So, since we can’t go out for date night, I had an idea. I was thinking we could watch a movie and eat in bed.”

“Oh, Steve Harrington. You spoil me.”

He grinned coyly as he lifted you, carrying you back to the bed.

“What feels more comfortable? Lying on your back or side?”

“Honestly, the medication is kicking in and now that my lower half doesn’t feel like it’s trying to escape through my skin I’d like to sit up, please.”

Steve laughs as he gently places you down on the mattress. You watch with pure admiration as he moves around the room, organizing things on the dresser so the wall behind it was completely clear. He disappeared downstairs, coming back with a box of pizza and bag full of goodies.

“Will you marry me?”, you sigh happily as you reach into the bag and pull out the candy he knows you crave during this time.

“I already did! There was a whole ceremony and everything.”, he grins. “I’d gladly do it again though.” He grabs his phone as he climbs on to the bed, focusing his eyes on the screen before him. You smile as you watch his eyebrows furrow together as he concentrates; just like he did in high school when he was working on homework.

“Ok, I think I got it. You want to see something cool?” You nod at his question before he taps at the screen and suddenly The Goonies starts playing on the wall in front of you. Steve chuckles as he watches your eyes light up with amusement.

“I may or may not have bought a projector and hid it for an occasion such as this.”

You beam over at him as you curl up into his side. His arm wraps around you as his palm comes down to absently rub your back.

Throughout the movie, you find it hard to keep your eyes in front of you. Every time Steve’s fingers move along your skin, you feel electricity shoot through your body. He takes a drink from his glass and your eyes focus on his Adam’s apple as it bobs within his very kissable throat. Your own hand absent mindedly rubs against his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly as he breathes.

He had changed into comfortable clothes before waking you up and you could faintly see the outline of cock as the fabric of his shorts rested against him.

“Whoa, baby.”

You blinked back to the moment when his other hand reached over to grab your wrist. You hadn’t even realized the palm you had on his chest has gradually glided below his waist.

“We, uh, you’re going to get me going if you keep doing stuff like that.”, Steve smiled down at you as he placed your hand on his stomach.

“Can we?” You slid your fingers under his shirt, running them along his skin.

“Honey, I…you’re in pain—”

“Not as much right now and they say orgasms really help with cramps.” He exhaled a breathy laugh as he licked his lips trying to contain his pleasure at the thought. “I just… I need to feel you desperately for some reason. Well, hormones I imagine but…” You both chuckle as the hand behind your back comes up to run through your hair.

“Okay. I’ve never…we’ve never…”, Steve stuttered, completely unsure of how to proceed.

“I think we would both be more comfortable in the shower. Less mess to.”

His lips lean over to kiss your forehead. “You know I don’t mind it getting messy.” You giggle as he climbs out of bed and lifts you in his arms again, carrying you towards the bathroom.

Steve turns on the water, making sure its warm before keeping an eye on you as you disrobe and step in. Even the small actions of watching him stumble around to take off his own clothes was turning you on even more. You weren’t sure if he did it on purpose to make you laugh or he was just that graceful but it was part of what made Steve him and you loved it.

As soon as he climbed in with you, you immediately clasped your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to yours. You were quick to get him in the shower but as soon as his arms were wrapped around you, you felt like you could stay like this forever.

His lips chased yours as you kissed down his chest to his stomach, his fingers tangling in your hair behind your head.

“Baby, babe…”, he whispered as you began to lower your body below his waist. “You don’t have to… trust me. You kissing me like that…I’m fucking hard as a rock.” Steve tilted your head so he could place your lips back on his. “I want to feel you, honey. Can I pick you up?”

When you nod, he tenderly situates your arms back around his neck before reaching down to grip the back of your thighs and lift you, locking them around his waist. You feel him shift between your legs and you drop one of your hands to help guide him into your entrance.

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Jesus. Hold on to me, baby.”

After you do as he asks, he begins thrusting into you as his fingers cling to your body. You moaned into his ear as you felt the tip of his cock hit that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly, setting your skin a blaze.

“That feels so good. Oh my god.”

Steve grunts into your neck as his mouth trace along the side. You lightly tug on his hair, placing his forehead on yours, your pussy fluttering around him as his pants hit your lips.

“Harder, Steve. Please.”

He holds you tightly as he drops one your legs from around him and pushes your back against the tile.

You whimper as he pumps into you vigorously, your eyes leaving his face to lustfully scan down his body as your palm slides down his hairy chest and back up to his neck. Steve’s eyes meet yours with a small smile.

“I love—mmm—when you touch me like that.”

“You’re so fucking handsome. I can’t help it.” He chuckles as he kisses your lips. “Make me cum, baby. Please. I need you to make cum.”, you whisper.

His head falls to your shoulder as he chases both your highs.

“F-fuck, yes, Steve. Just like that. Cum with me. Please…” You repeated your last word in his ear over and over until felt the coil in your belly snap as your arms held him tightly to you. His rhythm stuttered and he moaned loudly into your skin as he released his seed inside of you.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, you relishing in the closeness of the man that you fell in love with.

“Are you okay?”, he murmured as he lifted his head to look down at you.

“Better than.”

Your answer makes him smile as his grips your hips, slowly pulling out of you. “Let me take care of you, honey.”

You stand there patiently under the warm water allowing him to clean you as he periodically leaves gentle kisses along your skin.

After he turns off the shower, he holds your hand as he helps you out of the tub and quickly dries you off.

“Okay, babe, do your thing and get dressed. I’ll wait for you out here.”

You giggle at the sight before you as you step out of the bathroom. Steve had thrown on a pair of boxers and was laying haphazardly over the bed with his leg hanging over the side. He was smiling at his phone as he lazily brought a piece of pizza to his mouth.

“You’re such a dork.”

His grin grows as he gestures for you to come lay with him. As soon as you do, he shows you his phone displaying a picture Robin had sent to him of all three boys watching a movie with her girlfriend.

“What are they showing them?”

“Killer Clowns from Outer Space.” You both laugh as he wraps his arm around you, bringing your head to his bare chest. “After we finish this, we should watch that.”

“I’m down.” You lean up to kiss his cheek and jokingly turns his head just in time to capture your lips. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I wouldn’t know. I ask myself that every day about you.”

########

Date Night Series

#steve x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery smut #joe keery fluff #fan fiction

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snippy-tano · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to write something with captain rex? With a medic reader who saves him from a life threatening injury and he accidentally confesses feelings while doped up on painkillers? Thank you so much and I am a such a big fan of your writing. ❤❤

okay... this one kind of got away from me.

I'm not sure how it happened, but it ended up being longer than I expected it would be. Also, it ended up a little angsty. I normally don't do angst because it bums me out, but apparently I was in that mood when I wrote this.

but! fear not!

I am the queen of fluff and it does have fluff and a happy ending! so fear not dear readers!

I hope you like it!! :))))

[[also as a warning, obvi there's some talk about wounds and medical procedures, but nothing too in-depth. also, I am not a medical professional at all, so this is all just a guess from what I've seen on tv and the limited first aid knowledge I have. so take it with a grain of salt lol]]

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @quizznag; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @flowered-bicycles; @lucyysthings; @dangraccoon; @luna-schaf; @oh-delphinia; @dominhoe-squad; @kaermorons; @lucyysthings; @quizznag

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Beside Confessions

“Medic! We need a medic! Captain Rex is down!”

The moment the words crackled over your comm, it was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over your head. Panic and dread gripped your heart and you blanked.

Almost immediately, you shook away the fear and allowed yourself to slip back into your role as a medic. You detached yourself from the situation emotionally and focused on what you did best.

You finished tying off a splint and jumped to your feet among the raging battle. You took off running, hitting your comm unit.

“I’m on my way. Where is he?” You yelled and you got a response almost immediately.

“Sending coordinates now!”

Your wrist datapad beeped and you hit the small screen, seeing a small red beacon appear. You adjusted your course and pushed yourself to run harder. The battle continued to rage a few streets over, but you were relieved to see that when you rounded the corner, there were no droids near where Rex had gone down.

You could see a few troopers sticking close, blasters raised. When they caught sight of you, you could practically see the relief in their postures.

You skidded to a halt beside him, dropping to your knees without thinking.

“What happened?” You gasped, throwing open your med kit to dig for a stim.

“He was covering Cable over there while he set some charges when a droideka came out of nowhere. No one saw it coming.” The trooper beside the Captain said. He was pressing hard on what looked like a leg wound.

You quickly did a scan of the Captain and found that he was in really bad shape.

You cursed under your breath before grabbing a stim and jabbing it into his neck. Rex stirred slightly, coughing. You leaned over him, tapping his chest.

“Captain? Captain, can you hear me?”

He coughed again before his eyes barely opened. “Yeah, I can hear you.” His voice was hoarse and tight from pain. You flashed a small light in his eyes, watching his pupils dilate.

“Did you hit your head?” You asked, speaking loudly and he shook his head once before wincing.

“No. Just my leg.”

Satisfied that you would be able to move him once you got him stable, you turned to the wound in his leg. The trooper was still pressing hard and you instructed him to continue to do so. You pulled out copious amounts of bandages from your medkit and a large bacta patch.

“I’m going to put this on his wound so I’ll need you to remove your hands. But once I put it on, go back to pressing against it as hard as you can. Okay?” You said, looking into the trooper’s eyes.

He gave you a firm nod and you counted down. He lifted and you placed a bandage on the large open wound. The trooper immediately replaced his hands, causing Rex to groan loudly. You set to work removing his thigh guard and cutting into his blacks to give you a more clear picture as to what you were dealing with.

There were two troopers currently watching for oncoming droids. You didn’t want to pull one of them away, but you didn’t have a choice.

“I need one of you to come help.” You called and both of them turned. One lowered his blaster and approached you, kneeling down beside you. “I’m going to have to spray the area with bacta to clean it before I stitch it up. I gave him a stim, which will help with the pain, but he will likely flinch, even if it’s involuntary. I need the both of you to make sure he doesn’t move.”

Both troopers nodded and you readied your supplies as they got into position.

“This is going to hurt a lot Captain.”

Rex let out a weak chuckle. “S’okay. Just do it.”

You made eye contact with both of the troopers who gave you another firm nod. You removed the bandage and began to spray the area generously with the bacta. As you expected, Rex flinched, crying out. But the troopers helping did what they were supposed to do and kept him from moving as you made sure there was no infection.

You did a quick scan and confirmed no infection remained. You were also able to confirm that no major arteries were damaged, which meant that once you patched him up, he shouldn’t have any internal bleeding. You gave another look to the two troopers as you readied the stitches and they both gave you another nod.

So you got to work.

By the time you had finished stitching him up, Rex had passed out from the pain. Which was probably the better alternative to remaining awake. You had one of the troopers call for a med evac while you covered the area with sterile bandages, fastening it to him. When you finished, you moved up to check his vitals again. His breathing was a little shallow, but his heart was steady and his pupils were still responsive to light.

For just a moment, you dropped your medic mask and looked down at him as he slept. You cursed at him for getting injured and wished that he was awake right now so you could give him a piece of your mind. You were so mad that he had gotten this injured. But at the same time you were relieved he was going to be okay, barring any other complications.

The thought of him dying sent your mind spiraling and you were quick to clamp down the thoughts and stop them. Now wasn’t the time for that.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the med evac arriving. Two medics jumped out of the ship carrying a board. You were quick to rattle off what had happened and what you had done as you helped them secure him to the board. They gave you a restocked medpack and promised to comm you when he was stable and recovering.

You watched the evac lift into the air and head for the Resolute.

You allowed yourself until you couldn’t see it anymore to worry. But as soon as it was beyond your field of vision, you turned around and looked out at the battlefield. One of the troopers from before had stuck around and you shared a look.

“Ready?” You asked and he nodded. Together you headed towards the sounds of blasters and cannons.

Your job as a medic was never fully done. Most times you were fine with that, but knowing that Rex was seriously injured had you wishing you could have stayed by his side aboard that transport.

You only hoped what you had done was enough.

It was after a few more hours of providing constant medical care to injured troopers that you were finally relieved of your post on the front-lines. You were ordered back to the Resolute to get some rest. You found an empty seat on a transport with some injured troopers and you found yourself checking on them and their wounds as you made the short trip from the surface back to the ship waiting in the upper atmosphere.

You assisted a few of them to the med bay, helping one limp along the halls. Your fellow medics were quick to take the trooper from you and you let out a deep, exhausted sigh as you stood in the middle of the medbay that was full of injured men.

You felt a touch at your elbow and jumped slightly, relaxing when you saw one of your fellow medics. They gave you a soft smile before pressing a wet wipe into your hands and nudging their head towards a bed in the corner of the medbay. You tried not to think about how it was obvious you were here to see the Captain, instead giving their arm a squeeze and heading to where they had motioned.

The curtains around the bed were drawn and you quietly pulled them apart to step inside, drawing them closed behind you.

Captain Rex looked a little better than the last time you had seen him.

He had some more color back in his face and his breathing was much more stable. You cleaned off your hands, pulled on some gloves, and took a peek at his wound. It was still an angry red and puffy, but it looked like it would heal nicely.

You discarded the gloves and then looked down at Rex. You reached forward and gently gripped his hand, giving it a small squeeze. He didn’t react. And you were okay with that.

You turned before slumping into the seat beside his bed with a huff.

All of the exhaustion from the day seemed to hit you at once and you found your eyes starting to grow heavy. You initially tried to fight it, wanting to be awake when Rex woke up, but your body had other ideas and before you knew it, you were out cold.

You’re not sure how much time had passed, but eventually you woke up. You took a deep breath, feeling some of your joints pop as you stretched. You rubbed your eyes before opening them fully to see that Rex was awake and watching you.

You swallowed, feeling your face warm slightly.

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” You asked softly, standing up to approach him.

He watched you with a small smile before shaking his head. “No. I’m okay.”

You pressed your hand against his forehead, noting that he was warm, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for clone troopers who tended to run on the warm side. You went to remove your hand only for Rex to catch it with his own.

You watched with wide eyes as he gripped your hand, entangling your fingers with his.

“You saved my life.”

You cleared your throat, looking down at your worn boots. “I did what any medic would have done. You should be thanking your men for helping me and keeping you alive until I got there.”

Rex gave your hand a squeeze and you looked back up at him.

He gave you another dopey smile that had your heart fluttering in your chest. You weren’t sure what was going on with him, but you didn’t think it was going to get any worse.

Turns out you should have guessed he would take it another step further.

“I like you.”

His words had you freezing.

He-

There-

He couldn’t have-

Your brain stopped working as you stumbled through your own thoughts. You looked at his IV drip and saw some pretty strong pain meds listed on one of the bags.

“You don’t mean that, it’s the pain meds talking.” You said, trying to pull your hand out of his and struggling.

For someone who was on death’s door four hours ago, he had remarkable grip strength.

“S’not that. I mean it.” Rex said and you shook your head.

“You don’t. You can’t. I’ll come and check on you once you’re off the pain meds.” You again tried to go, but Rex refused to let go. In fact, he gave your hand a tug and you stumbled closer, falling to sit on the small space on his bed not occupied by him.

He winced slightly at the movement of his leg, but his eyes fixed back on you immediately. He looked sad. “Why don’t you believe me?”

You felt your heart clench. “Because it’s the pain meds talking. There’s no way you’d say the same thing without them.”

His gaze fell to where his hands were clasped around yours.

“What if I do?” He asked softly and you looked up to meet his eyes. “What if I tell you the same thing when I’m out of the medbay? Will you believe me then?”

You took a shaky breath. “You’re not going to remember any of this to remember you need to tell me.”

You were absolutely dodging the question, but you hoped he would be high enough that he wouldn’t pick up on it.

“I will.” Rex said, sounding more sure than you had ever heard him sound. “I’ll remember and I’ll kiss you to prove it.”

Your heart hurt. It was hard enough knowing that he wouldn’t remember this and you would never progress beyond friends. It hurt to hear him sound so sure when you knew nothing would ever come of it.

You let out a shaky breath. “Alright Rex. If you remember, you do that.”

He smiled softly before his head sunk back against the pillow and he quietly fell back asleep. You looked down at your hand that was still clasped in his. You didn’t move at first, selfishly you wanted to enjoy this feeling for as long as you could, knowing you’d never get the chance again.

When you finally rose, pulling your hand from his, you brushed a stray tear from your cheek and headed out, the curtains surrounding his bed fluttering shut behind you.

It was better this way. You kept repeating to yourself.

If only you actually believed it.

A few rotations later, you had received word that Captain Rex was out of the medbay and cleared for light duty.

Part of you was relieved. It meant that he was healing well and would be back to his normal self. He had survived a gruesome injury and would live to fight another day. It allowed the vice that had gripped your heart since you first got the comm he was injured to slither away.

Another part of you was devastated because this meant that you would go back to your original relationship of casual friends. Every night you had dreamed about what Rex had told you, which made the news he was cleared for duty that much more painful. Hearing him say those words and then nothing coming of it was brutal and you didn’t wish it on anyone. You spent many nights after he was injured crying into your pillow; terrified of the thought that you almost lost him and devastated that you’d never get the chance to tell him how you really felt.

But you pushed down those feelings of disappointment and continued on with your job as a medic.

When you finished your shift, you headed for your quarters aboard the ship. You had been lucky to get your own. There was an odd number of civilian medics aboard the ship and you were the lucky one to get their own private quarters. If someone else joined, then you would likely have to share. But for now, you enjoyed the single room.

You rounded the corner to your quarters and stopped in your tracks, your boots squeaking against the durasteel floors.

Captain Rex was leaning against the wall outside of your quarters. He must have heard your boots because he turned at the sound, eyes fixing on you. He stood up straight, clearing his throat.

“Sorry to bother you, I was just hoping to speak with you for a moment. To thank you for saving my life.” He said and you could feel your heart shattering.

You took a breath and plastered a fake smile on your face as you approached and punched in the code to your room. “It’s no bother. Would you like some tea?”

You asked and he shook his head.

You gave him a nod before ducking your head and stepping inside your quarters. You heard him enter behind you and the door slink shut. To keep your mind busy, you began making yourself a cup of tea, turning on the small kettle you had.

“You don’t need to thank me.” You started. “I was just doing my job. Knowing that you recovered is enough thanks for me.”

He didn’t reply and you took another shaky breath as you picked up a mug.

Rex saying your name had you freezing, shoulders tensing.

His boots clicked against the floor as he approached and you didn’t dare turn around. As it turned out, you didn’t have to because Rex’s hands gently gripped your shoulders and turned you around. You didn’t even have time to react before he was leaning down, capturing your lips in a kiss that had your heart stop beating.

The sound of the mug that had been in your hands shattering at your feet didn’t seem to deter Rex, who only wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer. The shock to your system was a big one, but you recovered quickly, letting your eyes close. He seemed to sense the moment you gave in because he pressed even closer, causing you to stumble a step.

Your back dug into the small table behind you, but you paid it no mind. You didn’t know where this was going, but you didn’t want to lose what may be your only chance to kiss the man you had grown to love with all your being. Rex seemed to have the same idea because he kissed you with a passion you hadn’t expected. It was as if he was also afraid this was going to be the only chance he had to taste you and wanted to make sure he memorized the feeling.

He pulled back abruptly, eyes opening to fix on your face. You sniffled and he raised one of his hands to brush away the tears that had fallen. He lifted his other hand and cradled your cheeks, softly smiling.

“I remembered.” He said and you let out a wet laugh. “I know you didn’t believe me then, but please believe me now when I say that I have feelings for you.”

You bit down on your lip, feeling your heart that had broken before slowly began to mend with the touch of Rex’s hands on your face. You nodded weakly and he brushed a thumb against your cheek.

“I can tell you still don’t quite believe me, but I promise you that I will prove it to you every day. And I will be thorough.” He said with a cheeky grin and you smiled, letting your head thump against his chest plate.

You released a breath, feeling him run a hand up and down your spine.

“Just don’t get hurt like that again and you’ve got a deal.” You whispered and he nudged your head for you to look up. You obliged.

“I can’t promise I won’t, but I do promise to do my best to return to you every day.” Rex said and you gave him a nod in agreement. He smiled at you and you returned it.

Rex was quick to lean back down and pressing his mouth once again against yours. Your heart was soaring and for the first time since you received that comm, you felt like the galaxy was lifted off your shoulders.

And with Rex by your side, you knew that everything would be okay.

#this one got away from me #but i didn't think you guys would mind #:)))))#don't forget to send me requests if you have any!#asks #askBri #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex/reader #clone x reader #captain rex #tcw #the clone wars #star wars #sw #sw: tcw

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