#LIKE SIR THROW YOURSELF A BONE HERE

[dylanconrique]

when will genny or angela have a heart to heart with tim and ask him why he doesn’t think he deserves to be happy?? when will my time come????

[nevernonline]

✧.* what’s your number?; kmg

synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.

paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.

warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia

word count: 3.8k

content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.

note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.

“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.” 

Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures. 

“Sir, can I ask why?” 

“Budget cuts, sorry honey.” 

Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending. 

“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.” 

“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.” 

You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber. 

Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this. 

After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job. 

Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’ 

“Okay, so society is regressing.” 

Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21. 

Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result. 

“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.” 

A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor. 

[3:44pm]. 

Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency” 

Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time? 

Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you. 

Y/n: got it see you in five. 

Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women. 

Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway. 

“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!” 

The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?” 

“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“ 

“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?” 

Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz. 

“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.” 

“Oh. Okay, let me change.” 

Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo. 

“Ailee, let yourself out okay?” 

“Call me?”

“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.” 

The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again. 

Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you. 

“She seems nice.” 

“Yeah trust me, she’s not.” 

“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?” 

“We don’t have to talk about her.” 

“Missing that jacket still?”

“Yes.” 

Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself. 

“What is this? What’s your number?”

“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.” 

You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands

“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?” 

“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.” 

“Not true, we haven’t fucked.” 

“Right and we will not.” 

“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?” 

“Do you really need that answer?” 

“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.” 

“17.” 

Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal. 

“Oh come on, that is not that bad.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Maybe 20?” 

“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.” 

“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.” 

“Bad day?” 

The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table. 

“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.” 

“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?” 

“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.” 

“I see. What are you wearing?” 

“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?” 

Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party. 

“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.” 

“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.” 

“Anything for you, rich girl.” 

You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this.” 

“And what did you expect?” 

“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.” 

Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric. 

“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.” 

“You finish quickly .” 

“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.” 

Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out. 

“Okay, I look-“

“Beautiful.” 

“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?” 

“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?” 

He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck. 

“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.” 

“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?” 

“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.” 

“Okay, mom. Jesus.” 

“Dad. Daddy, actually.” 

“That's never happening.” 

Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot. 

“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.” 

“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys. 

“Right. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.” 

“Bye, Gyu.” 

Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door. 

“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.” 

“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?” 

“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.” 

Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family. 

Grabbing  a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze. 

“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.” 

“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.” 

You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol. 

“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?” 

“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.” 

“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?” 

“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.” 

“Gay? He has wonderful taste.” 

“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.” 

“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?” 

“Maybe next time.” 

After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.” 

“Yep.” 

Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book. 

“Hello, Dad. May I come in?” 

“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?” 

“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?” 

“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.” 

“Shall we, sir?” 

“Yes, my girl.” 

You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain. 

Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember. 

“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?” 

Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now. 

“Are you going to embarrass me?” 

“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.” 

“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.” 

“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.” 

“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?” 

Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on. 

After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you. 

“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.” 

Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses. 

“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.” 

Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk. 

The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl. 

“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.” 

“What? How did you guess that?” 

“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.” 

Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple. 

More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you. 

Mingyu. 

“What the hell are you doing here!?” 

“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Mixed sexes bachelor party.” 

Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before. 

“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?” 

“I have one.” 

You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you. 

“You’re paying.” 

“Yes. That was the plan.” 

His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over. 

“Two whiskey sours please.” 

“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.” 

The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses. 

“Here you go, tab Mingyu?” 

“Yes, thanks John.” 

“Wow first name bases?” 

“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?” 

You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar. 

“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.” 

“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?” 

“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.” 

“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.” 

“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.” 

“Do you remember his number?” 

“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.” 

“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?” 

“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.” 

“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.” 

“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?” 

“Touchè” 

“What about him?” 

Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips. 

“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.” 

“And let my work go to waste?” 

You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body. 

“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.” 

“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?” 

“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.” 

“I see, you have a kink.” 

“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.” 

You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason. 

“I like seeing you too.” 

Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him. 

You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame 

“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”

“You like?” 

“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?” 

“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?” 

“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?” 

“She’ll be tied up.” 

“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.” 

Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass. 

“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Is this Mingyu?” 

“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.” 

Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly. 

“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.” 

“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.” 

“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.” 

Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment. 

“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.” 

“He seems nice, his wife to be too.” 

You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors. 

“Your place or mine?” 

“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.” 

Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine. 

Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment. 

“Come on.” 

You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom. 

“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.” 

You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs. 

“Fuck.” 

His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs. 

Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria. 

Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next. 

“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.” 

“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?” 

“Eager are we?” 

“Yes.” 

Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs. 

“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.” 

Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more. 

“Comfortable, baby?” 

“Yes, faster please.” 

“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”  

“Yes, sir.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them. 

“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.” 

“Me either, but it’s only round one.” 

“Do you want to do this again?” 

“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.” 

With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth. 

“Want to stay?” 

“Is that alright?” 

“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.” 

The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two. 

“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”  

Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo. 

“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.” 

“So I’m your lucky number?” 

“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.” 

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head. 

“I dare you.” 

[bornagainmurdock]

a sensory game

contents: 18+ ONLY, smut, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, dom!matt, blindfold, hand bondage, use of 'sir,' minor impact play, hand kink

work count: 1.5k

"Now tonight, you don't get to touch or see anything," Matt adjusted the blindfold over your eyes again, trying his best to make sure you saw nothing, "You get to hear and feel, but only what I let you hear and feel. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Your hands were bound above your head attached to the headboard.

"Good. Let's get started." Matt smiled, with a twisted enthisiasm.

Matt stood up from the bed, and paced around to the other side. You could hear him shuffling some things around on the side table, but hadn't seen what he had put there originally.

Earlier this week, Matt told you that you were too stung up, too far in your own head and unable to get out. Thinking loops that never ended. You hadn't slept much, and when you did, Matt would wake you from the nightmares to keep you from throwing yourself off the bed.

His solution? This. Playing with your senses until you couldn't focus on anything at all but the feeling on him and what he close to inflict on you.

"Mattt," Your voice was already unsteady in anticipation.

"Patience. We'll start when I decide." He fidgetted with his hands before deciding on an implement. "We're gonna start with you breathing with me. I know it's gonna feel silly, but it's gonna get you focused on me."

You nodded before confirming verbally, "I can do that."

"I know you can sweetpea. Ready? In..." He took a slow breath in, guiding you. He held the breath at the end and then exhaled with purpose, Matt counting each section in his head before starting the next one.

In, hold, and out, hold. In, hold, and out, hold.

You counted in your own head, keeping up with Matt.

In, hold, and—

You felt something on your stomach, not heavy, not with any weight, but careful and gentle. Not sudden, but suprising. The middle was cold, like exposed smooth metal, but the end, which sat delicately on your bottom couple ribs, was skin temperature. Felt like skin, but rougher. The edges were smooth and kind.

Matt let it rest there for a few minutes, you sending your attention to figuring out what was on you. You moved your focus away from the tempteratures and settled on the weight, feeling it indent your skin so subtly.

What could you own that was both cold and not-cold, and also so thin and light?

"Got your guess? I can see the cogs moving in your head." Matt dragged the end of it down your torso towards your hips, the cold part no longer in contact with your skin.

It flowed nicely down your body like the feeling of morning sunshine cascading through the window, hugging and nipping at your skin, heating up every centimetre individually.

"Is it your cane?" You weren't positive, but it was worth a shot.

"Try again. Here, feel this."

The end was now perpendicular to your skin, dragging up towards your neck, resting it along your neck and collarbones. The corners were soft, not squared off.

"The crop?"

"Good job baby! It's the crop. Feels different when it's not against your ass, hmm?" Matt started gently tapping it against your skin, sound bright and sharp when it made contact.

Matt fiddled with the crop for a while, acclimating you to the sensation, eventually using more force behind each hit, leaving little square marks in its path.

You staretd to moan with each hit, Matt moaning along with you in harmony.

"God you sound so good, baby. So good for me." He took one last swing at your skin, hitting your left hip bone with more force than he had previously.

You hissed at the sting, but immediately whimpered when another hit didn't follow.

"Ready for another one?"

"Yes. Please." You panted.

The next object to touch you was a feather. No doubt, no questions about it. And it was agonizing.

"Matt."

Matt ran it lightly across your entire body. You squirmed and wiggled away from the contact, itching for something less delicate.

"Yes, baby." You could hear it smile through his words.

"Please no more." You whined, using your legs to lift your hips away from the feather.

But Matt continued, tracing the edges of the feather over your stomach and sides, focusing on the parts of you that drove you mad. The lack of pressure made it impossible to keep still.

"Sit still. Focus on how sensitive you are after the can. How does the stinging feel with such little pressure?" He dragged it up the center of your body, over your belly button, sternum, and to your neck, holding it at your chin.

"Feels like I'm on fire. Like the crop was mercy, and this is the torture, the pain." You tried to lay in place, allowing the sensation to flood you and hold you hostage there on the bed, "Feels like you're breathing right against my skin and reigniting the burn."

"How enchanting." He somehow lightened the pressure even more, chills shooting through your body. The sensation moved from ticklish to hot-beautiful-joyous-pain gradually, now lifting your body into the feather.

When Matt realized how much you were enjoying it, he removed it from your body, again leaving you wanting more.

He signed before walking back over to the pile of items. You could hear him searching, sorting, and eventually finding what he wanted, carrying it over to you.

Matt liked watching you squirm. It might be his favorite thing in the entire world, which means it wasn't a suprise when you waited what felt like hours for him to finally give you something again.

It was probably only a minute or so, but without sight, without being able to reach for something, it was excrutiating.

"Okay, this one's a little different." He said plainly.

The warning wasn't enough for what happened next.

You felt something splash against your stomach, cold and damp and floating down your skin towards the bed.

And then the cold stopped. Matt dripped his hands in the liquid, spreading it out across your body, focusing on when the crop did.

The liquid warmed up under his touch, firey and red-hot now, reheating your entire body.

"I'm sure you can guess what this is?" Matt's hands traveled all over your body, from foot to neck, he made sure to slick up every inch.

"Warming lube?"

"Close again, it's body oil. But it is warming. I'm sure you could tell." He giggled, starting to massage your shoulders and upper arms.

"Feels like sitting in a hot tub on a really cold day. Sucking in the icy air but your body melting and sweating at the same time," You slurred your words together, Matt jostling your body around with his force, "Feels like being fire."

"How would you know what being on fire feels like?" He hummed.

"I don't, but I can guess."

You attention was focused on the way Matt carressed your skin, pulling at it, and sinking the oil into every pore.

You dipped into the softness of his hands, the pressure, the deliciousness of Matt's hands on you.

God, his fucking hands. They drove you crazy. Matt wasn't aware of how beautiful his hands were, even before you gave him a whole skincare routine (including one for his hands, they got roughed up a lot and deserved some care, too).

His hands; Matt liked to hold your hand, or wrap his hands around your arm when you led him. The same hands he choked you with, the ones he used to cook you dinner and spank you, the same ones he used to caress your cheek, hold your face after a long day, same hands that held you at night to Matt's body, keeping you safe and sound, comforted and loved.

"You still with me?"

"Hmm? Mmhm, mmm'here." Your head returned to reality, Matt's hands still at it on your body.

"I love you." Matt trailed his hands back up your body from your hips, grabbing the sides of your face and kissed your forehead. "Feeling better?"

"Feeling your hands on me." You were dazed, focus unsteady.

"Flip over lemme message your back." He started at your sides to flip you.

"Whatever you say Sir."

"That's my sweet and oh so good angel."

[the-californicationist]

he takes your breath away

MDNI/18+

Captain Price is sick of your poor performance, and he decides to give you his own demonstration on the practice mat.

TW: choking, dark!Price

AO3 Link

“Again, Corporal! Get up, you muppet,” Captain Price’s cruel growl stung your ears as he shouted at you, “At least try to put up a fight, would you?” 

You dragged yourself to your feet. Your braid was tangled, your body was sore, and you were drenched in sweat. 

“I’m trying, sir,” you may have been tired, but you still had some fight in you. 

Price narrowed his eyes at you, 

“Prove it. Lieutenant Riley, on your mark.”

“Aye, sir,” Ghost responded.

Ghost at least had the decency to be panting a little. You’d been at this sparring match for an hour and a half. Price wanted you to break out of choke holds, but you’d gotten pinned time after time. 

You squared up to Ghost again, a full foot shorter than him and a hundred pounds lighter. It was nowhere near a fair fight, but neither of you fought fair. Terrorists didn’t adhere to any rules of engagement, so Price insisted that you practice how you play. The masked soldier lunged for you, but he telegraphed it - or you were getting better at picking up on his tells. Either way, you dodged his attack and kicked his leg out from under him without hesitation. He fell, but reached around and took you with him, wrapping his arms around your head and squeezing your throat until you tapped out. 

“That’ll do, Lieutenant. I’ll take it from here,” Price said, his tone laden with disappointment. 

Ghost grabbed his bag and headed for the showers. Your captain gazed down at you with his hands on his hips, and then he sighed as if he had reached some sort of conclusion. He took off his hat, tossing it to the floor, and ripped his shirt over his head, folding it half-heartedly and throwing it down. He didn’t give you a chance to square up to him. Price lunged, quicker and more ruthless than Ghost had ever done, and you felt a jolt of adrenaline in your veins. The captain’s eyes were cold and unfeeling like a shark, but every bit as hungry. He was out for blood. 

You rolled away just in time, slipping from his grasp. You managed to get to your knees before he slammed his body into yours and knocked the air out of your lungs. His huge, hairy arm curled around your neck like a python, constricting your air and waiting for you to yield. You tapped out on his elbow almost immediately, giving up on yourself. He didn’t let go. You tapped again, your breaths becoming harder and harder to inhale as he tightened further. You gasped,

“Captain…what…?”

“Out there,” Price whispered, “no one will take it easy on you. There are no second chances in the field. If your enemy is foolish enough to keep his knife in his belt, you have less than a second to get free. So…go on, girl. Get free, or I’ll choke you out.”

“But…” You protested. Sparring was practice, and he never let anyone put another soldier in any real danger. 

“Either you fight me like you want to live, or I’ll send you to the medic and take you off the team. Your choice.”

Live or die. It was as real as it was going to get. You started to push at his arm roughly. It didn’t budge. You elbowed him in the ribs, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break a bone. He laughed into your ear, his voice sinister,

“If you’re going to faff about, just go limp, love. Make it easier for me to cut your lights out.”

You elbowed him again, much harder this time. He grunted, but tightened his arm. You were truly choking now, and you began to panic. You scratched at his face, his skin, and went for his crotch, punching back, hoping anything would land. You kicked at him with your legs, struggling in earnest. He coached you as he killed you,

“That’s it, babe. Fight for your fuckin’ life. Show no bloody mercy. C’mon!”

You headbutted him, connecting with his nose and hearing a crack. He released you, reacting to your attack, and you rolled away, coughing, trying to get oxygen back into your lungs. He was bleeding all over his mouth and beard, and it dripped onto his neck. You glanced over at him, ready for him to shout at you again, but he was smiling like a maniac. 

“Yes, love. That’s the right way. Why are you holding back?”

“You told us not to hurt each other,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“No,” he pulled you to your feet, “I told you not to end up in the med office. There’s a difference. C’mon, again.”

“Captain! I can’t. You’re bleeding,” you protested. 

“And? Do you think the enemy will give up after you break his nose? No, he’ll fight harder,” Price grabbed you around the neck with his bare hand, shoving you backwards toward the wall, pinning you into it, “Are you really going to make me watch you die out there, or are you going to start taking this seriously, Corporal?”

You hit his elbow and knocked his hand out of place before ramming him, full force, taking him to the ground. You’d surprised him, and you capitalized on that opportunity, clamoring onto his back and wrapping him just as the lieutenant had done to you, trying to make him tap out. 

He tossed you off of him like you were a rag doll, gripping you cruelly at the nape of your neck and pulling you back into him,

“Not good enough. You need to fight harder, girl. There’s men out there bigger and meaner than me. Come on. Dig deeper!”

You tried to kick him again, turning your hips so your leg could reach, and this time, your ass connected to his groin, jamming into it. You froze as soon as you felt it. Price was as hard as a stone. He knew that you felt him, tightening his hand around the back of your neck in silent response.

“Captain…?” You whispered, confused and exhausted, not understanding. 

“Corporal,” he groaned, “You’ve got my blood up, you have. Fightin’ like a little demon. You’re tough as nails, and it’s damn hot. More than an hour of dealing with Ghost and you’re still able to make me bleed? Makes me wonder what else you’re capable of.”

He grunted, putting you back into a chokehold, closing off your airway immediately. No more practice rounds. 

Your head spun, but your instincts took over and you sent two sharp blows to Price’s jaw before he moved his head out of the way. You returned to his rib, elbowing the same spot as you had before, earning yourself a pained groan. Then, he used his other arm to fully bind your body, trapping you against him. You writhed, slamming yourself back into him, trying to gain purchase.

“C’mon, love, use your head. Figure it out.”

You felt your leg pressing against his, and you wrapped it behind his knee. If you straightened his leg out at this angle, you’d break the joint. You started to do it, but something stopped you. He was legitimately taking your air from you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to injure him. 

“They won’t show you any mercy, girl! Do what you need to do,” he shouted at you. 

You shook your head, your voice strained and barely intelligible. 

“No, sir.”

“Very well.”

He released you for a moment, and you felt air burn through your chest as you sucked it in, then he wrapped you up again, only allowing you to breathe in shallow, struggling gasps. Price lay back, trapping your legs with his, spreading them apart. He was kissing your neck as he choked you, moving his mouth messily around his huge grip, sucking on the skin of your shoulder. Then, he looked you in your eyes, angling your head so you could see him. 

“If you tap out now, it all stops. We’re done. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” your heart banged against your ribs, partly from the strain, partly from the sick excitement of knowing that your determination had turned your captain into a lustful monster. You wanted to see him come undone. 

He dragged his free hand down your body, playing with you, teasing you by plucking at your nipples through your shirt, running his fingernails along your ribs, and finally shoving his hands down into your pants, finding your fleshy core covered by a pair of practical underwear. He cupped your vulva through the fabric, rubbing his palm in wide, slow circles, and a moan tried to escape your mouth.

He controlled your breathing, giving you more and less as he saw fit, rubbing in that same steady pattern until you began to tumble into an orgasm. He felt your body tensing, and as you came, he cut off your air entirely. What would have been a perfectly normal orgasm became absolutely blinding, and even though it was only a few moments, when he finally did allow you to take in a full breath, it intensified the feeling, making your vision go completely white, and your pussy clench down around its own walls, aching to be filled. You trembled in his arms, reeling from the aftershock. 

“Forgive me, Corporal,” Price let you go, trying to put you mostly back together, his face red with shame and stained with his blood. He set about fixing your shirt and your pants, nervous and suddenly too gentle. He gritted his teeth before confessing, “You make me want to do... things... to you that no gentleman should ever want to do.”

You rolled over to meet him on the sweat-covered mat, running your hands down his bare chest and dipping your fingers into the waist of his shorts, using the other hand to wipe away some of his blood from his mouth before you kissed him, licking the tip of his tongue with your own. You reached a little further and found him throbbing for you, his cock drooling with precome. You broke the kiss and whispered into his open, gasping mouth,  

“What things, Captain?”

[x-reader-theater]

Frozen Waste

summary: Taking refuge in a cabin safehouse in the middle of a snowstorm is cold.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader

category: Gen

word count: 2012

warnings: There are brief mentions of the reader having a more masculine body, but there are no pronouns used. However I made it male reader so those who want gender neutral readers wouldn't feel betrayed.

a/n: i stole this from a bunch of SoapGhost fics.

"God fucking fuck fuck FUCK!" You should over the roaring of the snowstorm around you. Your arms are wrapped tightly around you in the absolutely freezing weather. 

"Keep it together, Sargeant!" Ghost commands over the chugging of the wind. "We're almost at the safehouse. I can't have you losing it in me now!" 

You shake your head at him and sigh. "Of course not, sir!" You shout back. "How could I go insane with you right here!" 

You can't see it behind the reflective ski goggles he's wearing, but you know Ghost is just rolling his eyes at your terrible attempts to flirt. It's the only way you won't go crazy, though. Some little sense of normalcy in this fucked situation. 

"Like I said, only a little longer to the safehouse! Then I might be able to put some distance between us!" Ghost shoots back quickly, without missing a beat. 

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes as you say, "You'll freeze to death without me to help warm you up!" 

"No innuendoes in the field, [L/N]!" Ghost barks. 

You scoff even though it gets lost in the wind. "Not an innuendo Lieutenant!" you shout back. "Just stating a fact! It's fuckin' cold as balls out here!" 

Ghost doesn't say anything else as the two of you trek your way through the snow covered landscape. 

Eventually, you see the almost completely snowed-in cabin that is the safe house, and you find yourself picking up your footsteps and walking just a little bit faster at the promise of warmth. Ghost seems to keep pace with you and walks quickly up to the cabin. You have to dig out the door a bit but you thank whatever higher power is out there, if there is even one, that the door opens inward. You and Ghost use your full body weights to push the door closed behind you, trying to get as much snow that fell in, back out. 

When the door clicks shut with a finality that would normally worry you, you sag against the door in relief. 

Ghost instantly goes to the small fireplace in the one room cabin, the only other doors being to the extremely tiny bathroom and a backdoor to the cabin. He kneels before the fireplace and throws in a couple of the already stocked fire logs by the fire and gets out his tinderbox while you rush over to the bed to start pulling off as many layers of wet clothing that you have. Your boots, socks, and pants are all taken off, as well as your heavy, waterproof coat, leaving you in your vest and sweatshirt, as well as your thermal layer that covers from your neck to your ankles. 

"Wh-wh-why di-i-i-id Pri-i-ice ins-s-s-sis-s-s-sted on-n-n no wo-o-ol?" You shiver out as you drag your wet and damp layers to the now growing fire and lay them out on the hearth in front of the mesh fire screen. 

Ghost just looks at you, and while you can’t tell what he’s thinking, you can see his muscles trembling in shivers. 

You strip down to your underwear, as even your long johns have been soaked through. You sigh as you finally peel off the last layer, stretching out, but pulling your limbs back into your body as the cold air causes you to shiver once more. You walk over to Ghost with your wet clothes and spread them out by already warm fireplace while Ghost goes and checks around the place. You sigh as you feel some feeling return to your fingers and warmth return to your bones. You glance over to Ghost, who’s looking around the safehouse, making sure it’s not compromised. You can see he’s still shivering. 

You scoff as you stand, saying, “Take off your clothes.”

He freezes and turns his head to look at you, but doesn’t move other than that. “What?” 

“You’re shaking,” you say, gesturing to him. He stops shaking as soon as you point it out. “You’re freezing. If you stay in those wet clothes any longer you’re going to get frostbite.”

You cross your arms and tap your foot, trying to convey a look that brokers no argument. It seems to work, that or Ghost actually knows you’re ultimately right, and he makes his way over to the fireplace. You smile at him and shake out your limbs, before moving towards where the attached bedroom is. There’s only one bed, however there’s no fireplace in there, so it’s pretty useless right now. You go and grab a few blankets from the bed, the extra fluffy comforter and the quilt that’s currently on the bed. For a rarely used safehouse it’s remarkably clean. 

You walk back out of the bedroom and almost drop the blankets you’re carrying. 

Standing in the glowing light of the firelight is Ghost, with almost all his skin on glorious display. He’s pale, which makes sense for a man who spends 90% of his time covered up. What surprises you however is just how many scars litter his skin, and the entire tattoo sleeve that spans his right arm and up to his shoulder. He has a healthy layer of fat over what has to be incredibly strong, corded muscle. He’s not small, you never thought he was, but seeing just how much of Ghost is muscle, how little he actually wears as padding to make himself bigger shocks you. 

You clear your throat and get a better grip on the blankets as Ghost looks up. He still has his balaclava on his head, but other than the very tight boxer briefs he’s wearing, the rest is all laid to bare. You hold out a blanket, your cheeks feeling warm, and you hope Ghost attributes it to the warmth from the fire, but you’re not holding your breath. Ghost doesn't miss anything. 

However, he doesn’t make any indication that he knows as he slowly reaches out and grabs the quilt. You plop yourself in front of the fireplace, wrapping the fleece covered comforter around your shoulders, but you’re still shivering after being away from the fireplace for so long. Ghost joins you, sitting next to you at a respectable distance, but it’s as if Ghost is stealing away all the heat from the fire and leaving none for you. 

Your teeth chatter and you feel yourself shaking. Ghost sighs next to you and opens up his arm. 

“Here,” he says, his voice low and gravely. You look over and see he has his arm out. You look at him shocked, but all he says is, “Bare skin contact can help you heat up faster.”

You nod slowly and push the comforter from around your shoulders. Ghost grabs it and slings it over his back and you crawl over and into his arms. Immediately you feel your chest warm as your back leans against his chest. His arms encircle your waist, and you sigh as you finally feel like you’re warming up. 

You look up at the underside of Ghost’s chin, still covered by the mask. You stare up at Ghost, trying to discern anything from what is showing, but Ghost’s mask is not just the one that covers his face. 

“Eyes forward, Sergeant,” Ghost orders. 

You feel yourself jolt and your cheeks heat up even more, that familiar tingle of embarrassment prickling underneath your skin. “Sorry Sir,” you mutter, twisting your head so you’re facing forward once more, watching the fire crackle in the hearth. You feel your cheeks heat up even more before you say, trying to stop it but failing, “You’re really hot.” 

You stiffen in Ghost’s arms, and you almost think he gets warmer, but you can’ be sure, being surrounded by all the heat. 

“Is it too warm for you?” Ghost says hesitantly after a moment, going to take his arms away from your body, but you grab them, pulling them back to your bare chest. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say, still feeling overly flushed. Ghost seems to relax again, as much as he can relax, and you feel yourself shifting slightly into his lap more. You can feel your eyelids and limbs getting heavy, the muscles finally relaxing after an entire day of walking and shooting and yelling and action. 

“Get some sleep, sergeant,” Ghost says. 

You smile sleepily and nod. “Alright. Yes Sir,” you say, your voice trailing off as the warmth seeps into you and you begin to fall asleep. 

When you wake up, it’s slow, and much colder than how you went to sleep. You blink slowly, gritty corners almost painful in the cold, dry air. You wrap the blankets that have been placed around you tighter across your bare back as you sit up from where you were laying on the floor. You look behind you and see it’s empty. The space Ghost occupied is empty now, and the fire on the other side of you has burned down to embers, a reflection of the blaze it once was only a few hours ago. 

As you sit up you start to hear quiet talking in the background as your ears begin to work again become less fuzzy, not filled with the proverbial cotton. You rub your eyes as you look over towards the single, small table in the open space, where you see Ghost, still wearing nothing but his mask and underwear, bent over a small radio in his hands, talking with someone. You watch him as he talks quietly, the sun that now glints through the open window turning his skin from a pale moon to a golden glow, his scars that litter his body almost blinding in the light. 

You watch him for the time it takes him to communicate back and forth a few more times before he sits back in the wooden chair. Your eyes trail up from his thick, muscular thighs and over his slightly protruding belly covered in a small patch of blonde hair that trails beneath the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes gracefully rove upwards towards his scarred chest, protruding collarbones, wide shoulders, over his stretched neck that’s half covered by his balaclava. 

He looks over at you and you feel your face heat up as you look away, clearing your throat. 

“Ah, ahem, who-who was that?” you ask, taking a deep breath and trying to school your expression as you look back at Ghost. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him leaning back, facing you, with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You breathe through your teeth, trying to keep your face cool. 

“That was Price. We need to suit up and meet them at  exfil,” Ghost explains, and you nod. 

You drop the blankets with a shiver and push yourself to standing, stretching out, joints popping and muscles tensing before you relax. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you until you bend down to grab at your now mostly dry clothes. When you look back behind you, you can see Ghost stand up and walk around you in a way that means his eyes don’t have to be on you. 

You smile and shake your head as you collect the rest of your clothes, and start putting them on again, facing away from Ghost as the both of you suit up in your damp tactical gear, When you’ve both finished, you turn to look at Ghost, who has his rifle in his hands and is standing by the door. You collect your own and walk over to Ghost, and go to open the door to leave when he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you. 

“We’re never talking about what happened here,” Ghost says. 

You nod but something sharp- heartbreak?- lances through you and your smile is strained. “Of course.” 

“Already Sergeant,” Ghost says, clapping you on the shoulder in a stilted, overly friendly manner. “Let’s move out.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you respond shortly, saluting before leaving the cabin, and the peace you found together, for the cold, uncaring snow-covered landscape. 

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 60

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

This week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake lights up the night

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

STOP! BEFORE YOU READ:

If you can stomach excessive violence, please remember that this chapter technically falls chronologically after the Sore Spot one-shot. However, it is not required reading and you will not miss out if you could not read it for whatever reason.

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: Hospital, egregious injury, coma, intubation, needles, IV, coma, drugs, bleeding, broke bones, medical descriptions, medical tests, guns, gunshots, ect

“You’re late.”

“Sir.”

“47 minutes this time.”

Heavy sigh.

“27 the last and an hour and a half prior to that. You have two assigned patients total, one of which is no longer in critical condition and yet, here you are, late for the last round of your shift.”

“If you think-!”

“133 Pitt St, Apartment 3B, New York, NY 10002.”

Sharp inhale.

“Contain your personal life. You shouldn’t have moved in with your boyfriend so fast. Of course, he’s cheating on you. If your sloppy time management skills are any indication, you were never meant to be a suitable partner.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! I’M THROWING YOU OUT! I DON’T CARE THAT-!”

“Again!?”

“NO! NO MORE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I REFUSE TO-!”

“Please, ma’am! I’m begging you! I know! I know what he’s like and he’s a million percent at fault, but if you could-!”

“He just said my home address.”

“Eugh boy…”

“He’s cruel. He’s mean! He never stops! He’s-”

“Ma’am…”

“No! Don’t you ma’am me again! Do you know how many nurses have refused to serve this room! You are down to less than a handful and mark that down as one less because there’s no way in hell I’m coming back here. I’m filing a fucking police report. I’ve had enough of this shit. He threatens us. He lies. He antagonizes. He hovers! He’s a stalker! He’s a bastard! He should have been kicked out the moment he pulled that stunt in intake! I bet he was the one who did this to-!”

Slam.

“H-He-!”

“Donatello!”

Slam.

“Get out of my way, Leonardo.”

“Do you want to be cut off!? That’s what you’re fucking doing! We’ve been busting our fucking butts to keep you in here, but that’s enough!! Don’t you get it?! Do you want to be here when Y/N wakes up or do you want to be miserable and alone!?”

Snivel.

“She… insinuated… that I…”

“I know.”

Rustle.

“I know.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know…”

Sigh.

“I’m taking charge.”

Sharp inhale.

“That’s the only way this is going to work. You threatened her, idiot. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

Hmph.

“Ma’am…”

“You think I was gonna be moved by that?”

“Look, I get it. This is… There isn’t a way to explain this. All I can promise you is that if you can… find it in your heart to let this incident slide, there won’t be another.”

…

“I’m taking full blame, full responsibility. If he acts out of turn again, he’s banned. I’ll make sure of it.”

…

“Please.”

Heavy sigh.

Clink.

“You saved… my sister two years ago from a monster… er-“

“Monster. I’m not sure it was a mutant.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… I’m only doing this because of that. Not for him. Fuck him. Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you.”

…

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Squeak.

Squeak.

Squeak.

-

“And one cup of absolutely burnt coffee for the-!”

…

“I knew it!!!”

Clatter.

“Donatello!”

“Don’t.”

“I knew you were hiding something, but this-!”

“Get back.”

“What did you inject yourself with!?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does! You think you can-!?”

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I didn’t mean-!”

“You know why, now leave it.”

Bang.

“I heard yelling! What’s going on? Donatello!”

“It’s alright, Lee.”

“Don’t you pull that shit! What happened!?”

“It’s fine.”

“Knock it off! No, it’s not! You’re going to let him talk to you like that?! What was that?! I was gone for five seconds!”

“Leo.”

“Don’t ‘Leo’ me, Mikey! Everything that happens is on me. Don’t you get that? You need to tell me what just happened!”

…

“Well!?”

“I got too friendly, Leo. Nothing else. I swear it.”

…

 “Damnit…”

-

“It’s been 2 weeks.”

…

“Donatello.”

…

“Say something.”

“I keep time. Down to the second.”

“Then you’ll know that you haven’t slept. Not once.”

…

“Donatello.”

“I fatigue of hearing my name come from your mouths.”

Heavy sigh.

Creak.

Squeak.

Wane.

“I… I know what this is like.”

…

“I know you know why I know.”

…

“It’s not going to get easier.”

…

“I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“You presume too much.”

“Donatello!”

“What? Why do you insist on pleading your case? Why do any of you? You think of yourselves so highly. You are wretches. You are sheep parading yourselves as saviors. You flock if only because you are too feeble to attempt anything alone! You think I need you? I never have! I never will! You have hitched yourselves to a technicality at best! That I let you live and occupy the same vicinity as Y/N is happenstance at best! Yet you press! You always press. Always. You never stop! You never have!!! You will plague me for my lifetime and I will never be rid of you so, please, pray tell, Raphael, what wisdom on this dimension or any other could you possibly think to disturb me with this time!?!”

…

…

…

…

“Ya done?”

“I should have-!”

Scrape.

Crash.

…

“You need to eat and drink. Actual food. Actual water. Y/N will need you when they wake up. All I was gonna say. I’m taking my turn outside. Try considering that we might care about something other than you once in a while.”

Step.

Step.

Step.

Click

-

Fuzz.

Someone left an ancient video set on.

It was plugged in for the sake of it.

Or it was being checked.

To see if it was still operational.

Something was beeping.

Not overly loud, but enough that it made a thrum in the room.

It smelled clinical.

Dry, but with a must of synthetic polish, it spoke of industrially cleaned linens and hospital corridors.

There was an actual hum.

The kind that came from fluorescents when they painted everyone a sickly hue.

Something was in your mouth.

A twitch found a tube in your nose.

You were cold.

Every breath came with an ache and numbness.

It all channeled down your throat. 

You were layered up with blankets.

Three parts of you were free as far as you could tell.

Your left arm.

Stiff, folded, and holding emphasis.

Your head.

Lying on a papery substance concealing more than one pillow.

Your right hand.

Only emerged enough for something stuck to the back of it and large digits cupped between your loose fingers.

Two digits.

Two long, thick fingers.

You squeezed with as much force as you could manage.

You heard a little grunt.

You shifted to dig your nails.

“Woah there.”

Not Donnie.

That wasn’t Donnie.

It wasn’t Donnie.

You made a weary noise and tossed lightly against your pillow in dismay.

The thing in your mouth shifted.

You choked.

“Shh. You’re okay. Breathing tube. I know, I know. I also know I’m not the one you want, but I can get him. Can you hang tight for me, kay?”

The fingers returned the hold.

Eyes.

You wanted your vision.

You cracked a lid and winced it back shut at the light.

“You’re in the hospital. I’ve got you.” Another hand came to touch your leg in a neutral, but reassuring way. “You with me?”

Knowing there was too much white, you opened your eyes slower this time and glimpsed Leo leaning over you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You croaked.

“That’s all the confirmation I need.” He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking to the end of your bed. “Any more false starts and he’d lose it. The roving eye thing has been a nightmare.” 

Gaze adjusting by the second, you watched him slice open a portal and Donnie clamber through with a rush of sound. “You had seven more minutes before you were meant toI-! Does that mean-!?”

Leo stepped out of the way and held out an arm. 

Donnie rounded his head and was at your side before you could blink.

Function was difficult.

He cradled your hand close and you saw the wire attached to it.

Tracing it drearily, you found several bags sitting above you dripping liquid directly into your veins.

Coming back down, Donnie had tears in his eyes and a watercolor smile on his lips. “Y/N.”

You creaked, rusty on your intubation.

“Yes! We’ll get that right out if possible! Of course!” He brought his beak down and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Procedure says you should first explain whereabouts as a patient may be confused.” Donnie gave a sharp nod. “Y/N. There has been a travesty. We were in the Hidden City when we were ambushed. We-I-No-We were drugged… and you… you were…” Tears threatened to fall and he choked with a swollen throat.

You squinted at him.

None of that made sense.

You didn’t remember anything like that.

You remembered.

You remembered.

You remembered a beach.

You remembered a love potion.

You remembered rolling in the sheets with your mate.

You remembered.

You made a fearful noise and pulled at your body.

None of it came as it should.

Your arm wasn’t just folded, it was taped down to your chest.

In fact, most of your body was constricted.

The pull clanged along muscle groups and you felt a pulse trained inwards on your abdomen.

Shooting sparks of pain straight into your gut, you gave a soft pained cry and tried to kick.

Only one leg responded.

The other was lead and weighed down.

You were choking.

“Y/N, w-wait! P-please!” Donnie refused to touch any more of you.

“Donatello.” Leo appeared just behind him.

“Don’t. It won’t. Not now.” Donnie went to snap at the blue turtle.

Leo stared back, stoic. 

“Don’t…” Donnie managed, gaze falling.

“Y/N.” Leo took to the other side of the bed and reached in to adjust a strap of bandage on your shoulder. “Listen. You’re at the Mount Sinai on Madison. You were in emergency, then the ICU, then you got assigned a room. Saying you were banged up is an understatement. You almost died. You might have, if we hadn’t…”

Relegating to pupil movement, you first stared at Leo, then checked with Donnie.

Your boyfriend gave a sharp nod where he’d taken Leo’s seat at your side and your hand.

You rasped.

“They had to medically induce a coma so we could figure out what substance you were injected with. You were considered an overdose patient until then. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cracked it and passed the info along so they could treat you. Then you… didn’t wake up. They considered it a regular coma after that. You were stabbed in your shoulder, miracle it missed any of the three arteries there. You’ll have a hell of a time with physical therapy for the muscle though. Your left femur is broken, but that… We’ll get into that later. You were cut along the ribs and stabbed in the right upper torso, into the liver. You were in surgery for hours. Internal bleeding… concussion… broken bones, you name it.”

You made a flighty grunt.

Donnie squeezed you.

You sent him a weak flick of your eye.

Leo sighed softly. “Button time?”

“I hit it a moment ago.” Donnie answered, not looking away from you.

Leo nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Ready, Y/N?”

Leo. 

Donnie. 

Together in the same room. 

It only occurred to you now that there was an issue with that. 

There was so much happening. 

All of it was wrong. 

You shifted your pupil between the two and translated what you hoped was a question.

“I’m assuming you’re wondering about this?” Leo pointed between him and Donnie. “Another explanation for later because you’re going to want to sleep after what’s about to happen… I sure as hell did.”

He walked to a corner and you wanted to know what he meant, but a nurse walked in. “Oh…! How are you feeling!?”

What followed was torturous. Over and over your sanity was questioned and examined as they checked your faculties. Tests were done in abundance and you were poked and prodded by what you assumed was every metal device known to man. A legion of doctors, nurses, and contracted medical personnel filed through to tell you similar and yet all new information about your wounds. Tubes were inserted, removed, and shifted around in what you could only imagine was a cruel cosmic game of hokey pokey. You picked up little details where you could under the barrage. There had been something about mysticism, both bad and good. You’d healed nicely. You had more healing to do.

It had been three total weeks since the attack.

You held onto that lost time with an iron claw until you were forced upright. Both for physical examination and because a wheelchair arrived for some test that couldn’t be done in this room, you saw Donnie keep a wounded strength up and Leo keep his distance. Both men had been similarly cycled, in and out of your vicinity, for the sake of decorum. You alternatively had none as you were carted around for more scans where doctors both talked to and around you. By the time you were uncomfortably back in bed and finally left alone, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sleep.” Donnie kissed your temple.

“Donnie…” You fought your lids.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him at all. 

His name was probably the first thing you’d said to him. 

You wanted to say so much more. 

How could you be tired?

You’d been asleep for nearly a month.

Donnie hushed your mind and a glimpse of him was the last thing you saw.

-

You woke up sometime in the night to a nurse fiddling with your IV.

“I have to get used to seeing you.” She teased lightly, checking the cord and coming away with a syringe.

You grunted out a sound.

“Don’t mind me.” She told you before giving your good leg a pat and disappearing around the bed. “Just something to ease the pain.” 

You stared after her shape and caught a dull hue of Leo on the far side of the room.

Squinting, you found him watching after the nurse before he turned with a tired expression.

Following his gaze led to Donnie who was waiting with a patient expression.

“Hey.” You told him still groggy.

“Hi…” He pet your arm. “No need to get up.”

“No… I… I’m… can I…?” You stirred, trying to remember if sitting up was a chore.

“What do you need? Feel free to sign an approximate.” Donnie watched on with tepid affection.

In the corner of your eye you saw Leo turn his head in a way to give you privacy. You eyed him openly before returning to Donnie. Your first real look at him, you saw how the last few weeks had taken their toll. An odd midpoint in comparison to your last separation where he’d headed to the Hidden City alone, he looked a little on the mend. Eyes sallow, but skin perked with some vestige of hydration, he mostly looked exhausted.

“Water…” You decided, your throat dry and still cracked from the tube.

“You might have trouble swallowing, go slow.” He retrieved a pitcher and cup from a side table before filling it carefully to offer it with a straw.

Knowing he would hold it, you wrangled the lead with your lips and sucked in the life giving liquid.

He lowered it when you’d had enough.

“Sore…” You mumbled, leaning back and feeling the cool drink travel downward in your body.

Donnie nodded.

You took your time reaching up to cup his cheek with a spin of your wrist to coax him in. “Not clean. Sorry.”

“I’ve done my best.” Donnie whispered, coming in only enough to barely rest his forehead against the side of your head.

“Why-?” A cough caught you and each wheeze thudded through your wounds.

Donnie disappeared to monitor you closely.

Hand falling away, you winced against the aggravating loose, but tight nature of your esophagus.

You heaved a sigh as you caught your breath with the ragged little pinpricks that still held on.

Taking additional time to simply breathe, you eventually calmed enough to look out at Leo. “Explain this.”

Leo perked up in the moonlight seeping through a window and approached.

“Now?” Donnie asked without pressure.

You gave a single nod.

“Consider it a bedtime story.” Leo refused an actual smile, but there was a jovial edge to his tone as he came around to the opposite side of the bed. “We make it boring enough and we can put Y/N right to sleep.”

Donnie barely rolled his eyes.

“What got you here or this situation?” Leo asked with minor disdain, ignoring Donnie while also referencing him.

“Both… from the… beginning?”

Leo gave a knowing nod. “When I got the call, you were…”

Donnie bristled and had to hold himself.

“Bad.” Leo decided with a tight eye over your boyfriend. “It was bad.”

Donnie closed his eyes.

You reached for him.

He caught your hand and held it delicately to save the IV.

“We were together so we moved together.” Leo went on.

“Toget…?” You struggled on the syllables.

“Me, Mikey, and Raph.” Leo confirmed.

You bobbed slightly.

“Skipping over our entrance onto the scene, Mikey sort of…” Leo juggled his phrasing.

Donnie was up and away from you.

You stared after him and noticed he’d taken the time to set your hand down before fleeing.

“Mike’s got all sorts of mystic mojo.” Leo tried anew. “I knew you were going straight to surgery and Mikey sort of… snuck into prep.”

“Wha…?” Your lips parted dry and you wished Donnie would come back with the water.

“I wasn’t there, to be clear, I’m going off what Mike told me, but basically he zapped you with magic before the staff caught him.”

“I don’t…” You wanted to shake your head, but you settled for a failed swallow.

“In addition to flying, Mikey can kinda sort of teleport like me, but it’s different… he can…” Leo struggled.

“Leonardo trained with an artifact to hone tears through space. Michangelo can rip through space and time with his bare hands.” Donnie spoke, his back half turned to you. “To his detriment. You’ve seen his scarring.”

Leo seemed unperturbed by this knowledge. “He’s banned from it, but I can’t control him in an emergency or last resort sort of thing. It’s… a whole thing, but he can manage very short distances without it… without…”

“Leo…” You murmured, sensing there was something painful there.

Leo took your acknowledgement as a cue he could skip over details. “He took one look at a hospital map, teleported into the OR, dumped as much mystic healing into you as he could, teleported out when he was found, and then promptly passed out for an entire week.” 

You heard Donnie inhale to speak and both you and Leo waited for him to, but he didn’t.

Something was off here.

You felt like you hadn’t woken up.

Pangs said otherwise, but you still wanted to pinch yourself.

Leo and Donnie were being as civil as you’d ever seen them and only a few weeks didn’t seem like enough time for that.

Something else was happening, but you were struggling to keep up as it was.

“What… did he…?” You hoped that was enough.

Leo lightly touched a blanket crease on the edge of your bed. “He mostly reassembled bone fragments. From what I understand, flesh, with all its blood vessels and such is a harder patch, but he did get some in. Mostly that gash along your ribs. Overall, it’s more of a general spell. If it had been me-” Leo’s teeth caught the light.

“You…?”

“Medic training.” Leo held the first bitter edge you’d seen to him. “I’m a trained medic.” 

Donnie rotated further away.

Why were you losing him?

“Mikey took you from a femoral break to a fracture.” Leo kept a sharp gaze. “Your bone was shattered.”

“Oh…” You gazed down at your body.

“T-tricky with the casting.” Leo stepped up to point and shift the topic. “It’s called a spica. A groovy kind of asymmetrical bottoms, half shorts, half pants, which you have, but they should have cast it up your whole torso, only they couldn’t because of the… stab wounds…” He drifted, his acrid edge returning.

“What’s… going… on?” You got out, the many odd signs too much for you.

“I’m sure you don’t want some medical textbook info on the arteries… But I think I can simplify it-”

“Leo.” You pressed down on his name.

Donnie was nearly curled into the wall.

“Donnie.”

Your partner's head barely rotated at the sound of your voice.

“What… happened?” You wheezed. 

You’d asked Leo to start from the top. 

Instead, he’d skipped around. 

Now there was an ever changing air as if something enormous was being avoided. 

You had to know. “Tell me.” 

Leo tugged your sheet until it was smooth. “Intake.”

The word oppressive, you felt the other two suffer under it where it held no connotation to you. “What… about it?”

“You still don’t remember what happened during the attack?” Leo asked, edging closer to you with an odd timber.

You shook your head slowly.

“A… Hidden City police officer… abducted you both.” Leo began, a clear wary of Donnie even though he didn’t look. “The guy disobeyed the temporary pardon. We know next to nothing about his goal.”

Your hand flexed and you felt the bite of your IV needle.

“Without you, there’s no account of what happened. The perp left no evidence of planning or anything so we have to assume it was spontaneous, but… we don’t know. We won’t know. Donatello regained consciousness right before the guy tried to…”

Your gaze flew to Donnie where he’d wedged in a corner.

He didn’t know what happened?

No one did.

Was he guilty?

You wished you could go to him.

Leo gave a shaky exhale. “I can only say what I saw for sure.”

You were slow to trek back to Leo.

“Donatello called me and… asked-”

“Begged.” Donnie spoke venom. “Say it.”

Leo’s eyes flashed a warning that Donnie didn’t catch. “I guess he… beggedfor my help. I portaled over and saw you… you were… you…”

Soothe them. 

You wanted to hold Donnie. 

You wanted to pat Leo. 

If your arm closest to him wasn’t bandaged down you might have managed the latter. 

Leo seemed to notice your intention and gave a tired smile of his own.

This was the closest he’d been to you yet. 

His eyes looked like Donnie’s.

“I scooped you up with the others trailing behind and portaled us straight to triage.” Leo cut through the silence. “I had to leave you bleeding out on the nurse’s station because…”

“Y/N.” Donnie spoke around shattered glass.

“You won’t tell it.” Leo ground out just shy of a bark.

“I should…” Donnie tried to turn, but there was an odd glint to his eye.

“Donatello…” Leo had that warning to him again.

“I can talk about it!” Donnie’s voice held a rising bile. “I am not some child!”

“Donatello!” Leo took a few steps over.

“I lost control!” Donnie turned to plead his case with you.

Trapped in your bed, you felt strapped down.

You couldn’t help.

You were helpless.

“I didn’t see the yokai, you know.” Donnie crept forward slowly. “Your-our-your attacker.”

He looked a vision similar to a sleep paralysis demon.

Your heart clutched and it reflected in the ever constant beep of the heart monitor.

Leo neared the edge of the bed, his body readying.

Donnie saw nor heard neither. “I saw a knife. I saw you. I saw you speak your last words to me. Then I saw purple.”

Leo’s arms went up.

“They were trying…. They tried… They-!!!” In a single blink, Donnie’s eyes lit up a bright fuchsia. “They weren’t going to touch you.”

“Stop!” Leo’s eyes spun a blue similar to his portals.

Dancing lights filled the room.

For every flash of purple there was an equal blue swallowing it up.

It cast horrifying shadows across Donnie’s face. “I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I couldn’t-!”

Leo caught Donnie’s shoulders in a swift move.

You flinched away as the dueling lights picked up to a blinding luminance.

There was a sharp choke.

You forced your lids up to see the glow gone and Leo’s leg lifted where he’d kneed Donnie straight through his plastron and into his stomach.

Donnie hunched with drool dripping from his mouth and had just caught himself from vomiting at the force.

Leo let go just as fast and held up innocent hands as he backed away. “Well? How’d that work out for you?!”

Donnie winced, clutching himself for a moment before he raised his own hand as a signal.

“What… was that…?” You looked at them both, feeling a ghost amongst them.

“Donatello unlocked his ninpo.” Leo turned to you looking haggard.

Now a moment away from tears, Donnie scrambled to his side of your bed on his knees. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t-!”

Your hand immediately went to his cheek and though your body raged and you were only allowed a few inches, you turned toward him as much as you could.

“Don’t do that…” He scolded and your action alone was enough to ground him minutely.

You shushed him with affection and pet down his jaw.

It took two strokes before he went a calculated limp against you.

“Has this…?” You swallowed hard and the cup appeared in front of you.

Hating how much maintenance you needed, you took a quick sip before shaking your head to force the swallow down.

“This has been… happening the whole time… since I got…?”

“Put in the hospital.” Leo nodded and staggered a few steps before he caught the bottom of your bed.

“What… power? Why… now?”

Leo rubbed an eye and mocked. “What power?” He clicked his tongue. “We… as in my family, believed it was only possible for clan members. You unlock your ninpo through acceptance. You have to have faith or trust or believe in the Hamato clan, in us, in family, and poof! It’s the only way you should be able to…” A form of irritation brought Leo upright. “Mikey and I unlocked ours to save Raph. It should be for family. Our family. That fierce protection. That-”

“He unlocked it…” You looked at Donnie.

He was curled into your palm with his eyes screwed shut, looking especially young.

“…saving me?”

Leo clicked his tongue.

Donnie gave a nod that was more of a nuzzle.

“It was wrong.” Leo spoke sharply.

A purple gun appeared in his face long enough for you to watch it cock before Leo realized and a tiny blue portal swallowed it up.

“Enough already! We just did that! You already flipped out so chill!” Leo growled, his eyes still entrenched in a glow.

“Don’t you tell me that saving them was a mistake in any way.” Donnie pulled from you to bare his fangs.

Several cycles of purple and blue cascaded a waterfall around Leo’s features. It painted him haunted before his face broke into true dismay. “I would never.”

The flickering stopped and you didn’t dare look at Donnie.

“How you activated it…” Leo shook his head trying to bury the raw emotion. “Your faith is misplaced. You get granted Hamato rights because you’re a Hamato. Because you believe in one another and how we’re stronger together… You are supposed to believe that you are a part of something larger and that they have you, everything about you. Every single bit. They will do anything for you! You don’t…! You don’t believe any of that!” His eyes rose with tears caught by the pale lights in the room. “That’s why you’re wrong. You tore into a power you shouldn’t have. That’s why you don’t have control. It will never be okay. It will never be yours! It shouldn’t.”

Donnie finally turned inward toward you and there were broken flickers of purple in his gaze like a match trying to light.

You had very little movement, but used what you could to grab his mask and tug.

He came limp and loose into your good shoulder and wilted there, shutting off the light.

Leo grunted about his weakness and did a small pace to recompose himself.

“Leo…” You murmured, petting Donnie with a heavy weight that he accepted.

“Yeah…?” He rounded the edge of the bed.

“That was… What Donnie made was…?”

“Weaponry.” Leo spat. “His power manifested in the same shit he started with. Destruction as always.”

There was a humming vibration of a phone.

Donnie flinched into you.

Leo pulled his device out.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered to Donnie, knowing you couldn’t go low enough to not reach Leo’s tympanum.

“The others…” Donnie rooted closer to you. “… they’ll come now.”

“Why?” You wished you could hold him.

“The flare of ninpo.” Leo answered, tacking something out. “They’re worried. I’ll tell ‘em it’s okay for now. You… I’ll give you this.”

Donnie couldn’t thank him, but he chuffed a sound of acknowledgement.

That seemed enough for Leo.

You felt a depth of what they’d been through without you. 

It was huge and weighty and both of them were overtaxed by it. 

All because of you. 

“Raph said you each had… specialties or something…” You murmured.

Leo stared dully at the blue light from his phone illuminating his face. “Donatello has built guns a million times over. Now he can assemble them without anything, but his mind. Makes sense. A stupid fucked up sense.”

You read the faintest emotion of him.

Fear.

“Leo-”

“I don’t agree, but Mikey has a different theory.” Leo pocketed his phone and his angle entrenched him in darkness. “He doesn’t see a problem with the unlocking because it was done to protect. He thinks the malfunction is tied to Donatello holding back. Something about him not being able to embrace the power because he’s forcing it away like everything else.”

Donnie exhaled revulsion.

“Agreed.” Leo puffed his own.

He did hold back.

You stroked down, tracing towards his concealed mating mark.

Did Donnie disagree because Mikey was on the right track?

He’d come a long way, but he still believed that the person he was with you wasn’t the authentic one.

He’d also said he could never live as himself.

That meant he’d never harness this power.

It loomed overhead, something even more dangerous than his enemies.

“It does… seem connected to your anger.”

You felt both men look at you, but you only watched Donnie.

“From… the little I’ve seen…” You tried to sound sheepish.

Donnie leaned in to rest his beak against your cheek. “You’re correct.”

Leo broke away and walked toward the window.

“And you two have just been…?” You glanced between them. “Together… this whole time?”

The palpable disdain swept through the room.

For a long moment neither spoke.

Donnie seemed the more sturdy of the two for now, sighed to retreat lightly, and adjusted your covers. “Not at first.”

Leo scrubbed his face.

“The initial chain of events went as such: I was…” The moment weighed on Donnie and took his voice.

“Not again…” Leo turned, looking twice as exhausted.

“I can do it.” Donnie pressed, harsh. “Look away.”

Leo bristled with obvious concern.

All you could think was how strange it was.

In such a short amount of time they’d seemingly come so far.

The Leo you knew would have taken every opportunity to barb Donnie.

Your Donnie would never allow the amount of supposed weakness he was currently displaying.

“I can.” Donnie tried again, his voice more even.

Leo said nothing and turned to tuck his head against the wall.

Donnie was slow in taking your face.

A familiar cascade of affection, it coaxed a smile from you and he nosed you lightly before drinking you into a kiss.

“My breath…” You murmured against the chaste press.

“Brushed earlier once the tube was removed and you were up to it.” Donnie caught your lips again and you realized the light brushes were to keep any errant smacks at bay.

“I’ve slept…” You teased him with the lightest nosing though the reach with your neck disturbed the muscles in your shoulder.

“You will learn to lie still.” He spoke with light heat and stole what was an obvious final kiss with a heavier press.

You relented into the pillow and failed to catch a soft sigh.

“That day… After disposing of that miscreant, I was beside myself. You needed more immediate attention then I could possibly… I found your phone. I called… When Leo appeared… I… I passed you off. My inadequacies were…”

“Too much…” You found his hand near yours and squeezed it.

He nodded and nuzzled close. “I let him take you, not more than a step behind, but Michelangelo…”

You tilted your head the slightest amount.

“You were deemed an obvious emergency and taken immediately. That I stood for, but Michelangelo he only…” Donnie paused and took a deep settling breath. “He had been nearby, suddenly saying he could help. Then he disappeared. I… It was an unknown variable. Him alone with you. With his mysticism… I… He hurt you before…”

You studied his eyes closely.

He leaned in to give you a better view, illustrating his gaze was free from purple, before nudging you with his beak. “I was irate to say the least. The staff would not let me warn them. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and then…” He caught himself and with several false starts to give a heady exhale. “Raphael subdued me after I manifested an entire arsenal and nearly leveled the waiting room.”

Leo shook his head against the wall, but you read it less as a disagreement and more of distress at the memory.

“His projections aren’t sturdy enough to dispel mine however. He temporarily knocked me out as the drug was still in my system.” Donnie continued. “When I woke, moments later, I was propped in the waiting room, informed Michelangelo had been returned to the sewer, Raphael was having a few superficial bullet wounds treated, and Leonardo was sat beside me.”

Leo flittered with a faint movement that you found to be his fist nervously tapping near his hip.

“For a while…” Donnie wrangled himself in and pulled away minutely to check your IV. “We sat as such for several hours until Leonardo spoke in regards to our predicament. A repeat of my display would put you at risk. The blue bast-ahem-Leonardo was meant to only be utilized as emergency transport. It was a temporary necessity. However… I was forced to acknowledge there was now more at play.”

Leo’s head tipped up and he looked toward a darkened ceiling corner.

“The staff had no choice but to accept my staying by your side once I was able.” Donnie had a faint smirk to him. “In situations such as those, I am unbothered. What power do they have? Police?” His teeth gleamed around a laugh, but he subdued it. “It was… your ongoing treatment that proved difficult. Not up to my standards. We’d failed to get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. inside. You required the facilities and providers available here, but…”

Your lips parted and Donnie offered more water for you to sip.

“My threats along with my volatile ninpo made a dangerous combination. Not that they could have kept me away, but I was threatened with several premise bans.”  

He let the cup sit comfortably against your side.

“You see, upon our arrival here, each of us displayed our powers meaning the uninitiated were confused. Sure, there is an irritatingly obvious color coding, but what was less evident was the effects. Raphael had smothered my attack so only sick, delusional waiting room patients saw a hallucination at best. No one of importance saw what my ninpo created. This was for the best, but to keep it that way, as the lethality of my manifestations happens to be off putting to some-'' Donnie flicked a quick glance toward Leo in gesture. “-I had to be monitored…” His lip curled. “The others sat with me in rotation. I was unfortunately in need of their attendance in case my ninpo activated. The three traded off, but Leonardo’s ninpo is most suited to safely disarming mine.” 

Donnie came close enough that you could lean on him. 

“Waiting at your side gave me only time. Slowly, I achieved enough emotional control so as not to create weapons at the slightest provocation, but I am still me. I acted my usual and voiced my overall displeasure with your ongoing unconscious state. These… comments were not appreciated and compounded as I had worn my welcome. On supposed ‘thin ice,’ there was a particular incident where I slipped and allowed a nurse to see one of my manifestations. Thus a final deal was struck.”

Leo felt comfortable enough to turn and watch with a worn expression.

“Leonardo…” Donnie took on a strange expression that bordered appreciation. “… stepped in. He used his connections, status, and manipulation to garner you a better care rotation. In exchange, he was charged with being my full time handler. I was to defer to him in exchange and he put his entire public reputation on the line if only to keep me from actually being kicked out. If only… to allow us...” Donnie carefully cradled your hand. “... to stay together.” 

You were overwhelmed. 

Suddenly awash, your chest tightened lethally and you sent water works in Leo’s direction. 

The blue turtle startled at the emotion and gave a single sharp nod as if it was a normal duty as any other.

“Shh, don’t waste your limited energy on him. Again, not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have kept me from you.” There was a fragility to Donnie’s usual bravado.

You pinched his fingers to translate that you noticed.

He looked away with the faintest noise of frustration.

“That was a week ago.” Donnie murmured.

“Back up some.” You let go of him to point.

Donnie studied you before adjusting his stool with a rolling slide.

It put him more easily in your reach and you tugged his mask up from his beak.

He grunted, annoyed, but allowed it and you revealed the deeper dark bags barely concealed by it.

Trying to betray little, you delicately put Donnie’s mask back in place before gesturing for Leo to come over. “You next.” 

Leo walked to his spot on the opposite side where he yanked his mask up, unprompted, for you to see his equally swollen lids with an amused fluttering of his lashes.

“Him-” You threw a thumb back to Donnie as you spoke to Leo. “I expect to not sleep, but you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost sleep over the jackass.” Leo smirked.

Donnie rolled his eyes.

“He’s up, I’m up.” Leo shrugged and used both hands to get his mask right. 

“I would never allow myself disarmed around you.” Donnie growled lightly. 

“And you see why neither of us have slept.” Leo’s hands fell away and he cracked you a manic expression like it were an ice cold drink. 

“Where was…?” The memory seemed so vague. “Donnie was portalled in… when I woke up.” 

“Ah.” Leo nodded, thoughtfully, before sending a smarmy look at Donnie. “Now where were you at, hm?” 

Donnie bristled. 

Leo pulled his expression slightly, but waited with a cocked ridge of his mask. 

Donnie let a canine peek as he turned an acidic expression to you. “I have… scheduled meal breaks.” 

Leo wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, no doubt covering a smile. 

“A bargain to make you eat…?” You looked over Donnie with knowing affection. 

For a split second you saw a swipe of guilt flash over your boyfriend’s face before he settled to a neutral expression. “My choice. An accepted one around. The only agreement was travel.” 

“My moment of freedom tainted!” Leo held up a dramatic hand. “Basically, the jam jackass will only go to the cafeteria if I portal him there.” Leo shook his head free of his hand to show his disdain. “Mike or Raph take it from there, but still.” 

“My retribution and instantaneous returns.” Donnie sent a lowered lidful of affection toward you. 

“I’m not a damn taxi.” Leo grumbled. 

You took them both in before you exaggerated a pout. 

You then sank deep into your pillow though it made your body ache.

Donnie switched to worry and touched your arm anxiously.

“Leo.”

Donnie twitched with faint annoyance over you ignoring him.

You held out your hand to soothe him.

“Hm?” Leo leaned back, folding his arms.

Donnie took your hand and sulked.

“I get your stupid banter comment now.”

For a beat nothing happened.

Then Leo popped a single snicker before he burst out laughing.

You clucked along with him until the bubbles of comedy clung and irritated your liver.

Donnie pressed your arm to urge you to stop.

You tossed him a smile.

Leo came away, wiping his eye. “Oh man, I’ve lost my mind… That was good. What a call back…!”

“I’m mad I didn’t see you two get close.” You pursed your lips. 

“We aren’t.”

“We aren’t.”

There was a certain amount of horror passed between them which Donnie dispelled with a puckered focus on his face.

“Knock it off, bozo!” Leo’s lip curled.

“What are you doing…?” You touched Donnie.

“Trying...” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, willing something with all his might. “… to shoot him between the eyes.”

“You can’t do it on purpose yet and hopefully ever.” Leo sneered.

“If you keep that up he will.” You stared at him dully.

“Pfft.” Leo blew a raspberry. “I’ll just do a little abracadabra and poof, it’s disappeared right before your eyes.” He did a flourish with his hands.

“Hypno would be insulted.” You tilted your head away from the poser.

“Hypno’s a hack!” Leo threw up a hand. “I’ve studied the greats!”

“Since when do you-?” You reared your head. “No… I’m… I’m too injured for this.”

Donnie puffed with a single bubble of laughter and then painted a stoic face as if nothing happened.

“We’re literally right here. This room is dead silent.” Leo shook his head.

“Donnie…” You chewed your lip.

Donnie turned his beak up.

“Seven straight days of this.” Leo threw a hand out to Donnie.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” You tapped your sheet. “I missed it! Donnie, pull up the recordings!”

Donnie’s hackles went up.

Leo put extra shine on a snarky smile.

“You…” You looked between the pair before settling on Leo in awe. “How the hell did you get him to agree to not tape this?”

“You’re on the line. You’re literally the best bargaining chip anyone could ask for!” Leo turned a smile on you that was eerily similar to Donnie’s malevolent one.

They’d spent too much time together.

“Weak spot…” You whispered in spite of yourself.

“Come again?” Leo held up a hand to his tympanum.

“Nothing.” You crooned.

Leo cocked his brow through his mask.

“You have to fill me in on everything.” You demanded from both of them.

Leo opened his mouth with a retort, but a nurse appeared in the doorway with a tapping foot. “Ahem.”

“Maria! If it isn’t the most lovely night nurse this side of Queens!” Leo spun to her in a flourish and seemed to almost manifest sparkles.

She seemed largely unbothered, but you caught the slightest ghosting of pink to her cheeks from the fluorescence in the hall.

“Give ‘em a break. The lovebirds are making up for lost time…” Leo cooed.

She huffed loudly and renewed the fold of her arms. “They and everyone else in the corridor also need sleep.”

“Done.” Donnie spoke.

Leo polished his grin.

She glared openly at Donnie before sending Leo a pointed look. “I’ll check back in fifteen.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Leo gave a little amorous growl and you gagged to Donnie.

His lip wrinkled with a smile that he buried as soon as Leo walked back over.

“Think that’s a pretty good demonstration of how this arrangements been going.” Leo tossed a thumb back to where he’d come from and reverted to what you assumed was his neutral setting.

Donnie stood and fluffed your pillow.

You looked him over affectionately and felt that ever present exhaustion tug at you again.

It was there. 

It had been there. 

Speaking of it felt like a command and now it threatened to engulf you. 

You hated the helpless feeling of it all. 

“Just like that.” Leo hummed, cocky.

“Shut up.” You grumbled.

“Finally, someone else can tell him.” Donnie took his seat and assumed what must have been his usual waiting posture.

“Ugh, almost forgot you let him ruin your morality.” Leo made a big show of rolling his eyes.

You had more complaints, but your lids were heavy.

“Get some rest.” Leo blessedly dropped the complaint and took a seat in a far chair.

“We’ll get you home soon.” Donnie took your hand and pressed a careful kiss to it. You made a little sweet sound for him, but your vision of him skewed as you dozed off.

💜NEXT💜

Through every crazy little idea I have, my darling betas are right there with me and I could be more honored to know @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[soullessdianthus]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 | 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 (comfort/fluff)

READ THE FIRST PART HERE ⟶ 𝕏

Summary: Basically some sneaking out with your Lt, because he had been worried about you. :( What could go wrong? Y/N ━ your name

Word count: 4k

It wasn’t easy going back to the everyday routine, to the schedule you did for yourself and religiously followed day after day. Even though you had the strength to get out of a warm bed, participate in tedious training and spend time with your friends in the cafeteria you were still not allowed to participate in a mission. 

Obviously you were allowed back in the gym after your body healed and regained strength, although some may have suggested it was still too early. Some green and yellow bruises visible under the hem of your shirt, soreness in muscles slowly fading away. 

But it was the hand that hurt the most and healed the longest. You found out the hard way during a sparring session with Omen, when he blocked your punch with his forearm and then the blunt pain made your mind go numb. Captain Price was right – your soul and your body were not ready for a mission. 

— It takes time to properly heal a bone, kid. Take it easy. — He tried to suggest, but it only left you infuriated. 

You have never asked for a time off, you never asked for this. Price was right, it takes fucking weeks to regenerate a bone structure. If you hadn’t taken a strong painkiller before bed since the interrogation, the night would be sleepless as the healing process was uncomfortable. 

Being stuck in the base made you feel useless, especially when your lieutenant and friends were being constantly deployed somewhere, leaving you alone with the unpleasant memories regarding Shadow Company.

Soon after their departure your name was cleared out with the help of Kate Laswell. You wished to never see the bastard responsible for your beating again or nowhere near you. Graves never tried to apologize or reach you again, but his presence around the base made you succumb to the four walls of women's barracks all day long. 

Like a coward.

It might have been the first time in your lifetime, when you found a person to be so repellent. Thing was, that the whole grief or disgust you were carrying was about the commander's perverted innuendos.

Since the beginning you had a feeling something was off about his cocky attitude. Something more than just shitty pick up lines. It was about Graves overall, but you decided to blame it on your prejudice toward men. 

You should have listened to your intuition and refused to walk with Phillip that day. You really should have and now you’re suffering the consequences. 

The painful sorrow echoed in your ears almost all the time, bringing pathetic tears to your waterline. Hiding them became more complicated than before. 

And little did you know, such a small and “unimportant” detail wasn’t overlooked by your superior. Ghost’s eyes swallowed by the darkness noticed each single thing, especially when it came to you. How your brassy smile faded and how your brows were no longer furrowed in full concentration. You changed. 

Despite the injuries, your form wasn’t lacking – while one of your hands was healing you mastered knife throwing with the other. You still participated in daily training and gatherings, so Lieutenant Riley felt entitled to keep you in line and in one piece.

— That’s enough for today, Y/N. — The calm yet resolute voice of the lieutenant stopped your training with your partner, Omen. The same man who came to the lieutenant's office, alarmed by your disappearance after the operation regarding weapon trafficking.

— But I’m fine, sir. I can continue.

But the mountain of a man stood unmoved and stoic, doubting your reply. Nonetheless, Ghost was glad that your voice stayed the same – fiery yet sugary. A sweet little burden on his mind, giving him sleepless nights. 

— Go change your bandages, they’re bloodied. You’ve broken a stitch, again. 

— Fuck. — A quiet curse left your lips as you inspected the crimson patch over the bandages wrapped around your forearm. You knew you were going to get lectured by the doctor once more. 

— If that keep happenin’ they might stop patchin’ you up, you know that? 

— Take some rest, it will heal quicker. — Comrade Omen stated, placing his sweat covered hand over your stiff shoulder.

— I don’t need your pity too — you almost hissed at his friendly gesture, reflecting on your own words immediately. You exhaled slowly, trying to relax your muscles, before apologizing for your defensive response. — Sorry. 

— He’s right, take a break — upon seeing the ongoing conflict in you, Ghost glanced through his mask with a cold gaze. — It’s an order, soldier. 

You rolled your eyes like a rebellious youngster before heading towards the locker room, leaving the two men behind. 

The last thing you wanted the lieutenant to think about you was that you were weak. You were far from that and he knew it perfectly – you were as stubborn as he, yet much better than Simon. At least in his opinion. 

He, contrary to you, brutalized and hardened his body through the years, leaving his flesh scarred and coarse. Simon didn’t want it to happen to you too. To see your young, soft skin turn into a bumpy piece of leather would be a disaster indeed. 

However you still felt like you needed to prove yourself – before Ghost or Captain Price. You wanted to be valued and your current state, which was Graves’ fault, was slowing you down. You have never asked for a special treatment. 

It felt like your own body was sabotaging you, acting against your own will. 

Agitated, you closed the door to the locker room behind your back, before slumping down on the wooden bench in the middle of the alley. You hid your face in your hands, before trying to gather thoughts. 

You were fucking infuriated at yourself for breaking down in his arms that night, when Ghost along with Captain Price came along to your rescue. You were so tired then that you weren’t fully yourself – controlling, keeping everything organized and composed. 

Keeping feelings locked, both unpleasant and those more… complicated. 

You dared to show him your vulnerability and now he thought of you as something fragile. Worse, someone not suitable for his squad. 

If you hadn’t stood your ground, he would have already kicked you out, right? There was no place for frailty under his command – under Simon Riley’s supervision, a legend of the shell of a man, closer to the cold blooded murderer than a lenient lieutenant. 

Yet, you found comfort within his warm embrace that night, feeling safe for the first time in a while. His care of you seemed genuine. 

But why? You were just a private, a rookie. 

Maybe Ghost wasn’t as stern as they said? Perhaps his heart wasn’t made of ice. 

It has been another sleepless night since the doctor cut off your medication as in his opinion you should rest with no issue now. Well, the doc was utterly wrong.

You trashed between the sheets in your bed, while your other roommates were long gone in their dreams. Despite almost all of your injuries being healed, everything hurt. You found the sensation close to the soreness in your tibia when you were growing up. 

There were things left unclear, an anger you have been bearing, because of your lieutenant. Ghost must have thought very poorly of you if he softened just because you have been interrogated and blood was spilled. 

Fuck, you must have looked pathetic in his eyes. 

You needed to talk to him about… all of this or else you wouldn’t find peace. But right then, you needed fresh air – a cold breeze upon your flushed cheeks. You decided to break the curfew, risking a punishment, just to sneak outside for a moment.

You silently jumped out of the bed and put on clean cargo pants and a fleece jacket. Thankfully the hallways were empty by the night time and you managed to reach the doors on the back of the base building.

Your slow and relaxed exhale was interrupted by a sudden hoarse voice echoing from the darkness. 

— Goin’ somewhere? 

— JesusfuckingChrist — you said during one, sharp inhale. One of your hands shot right to your chest, grasping the fleece material tightly. — Scared me, Lt. 

— Not the first time, eh? 

Only when Ghost took a drag of his cigarette, the burning tobacco underlined the features of his bare jaw – pale skin covered in few scars and a stubble blonde rash. Lips pouted, sucking on the cigarette’s filter. The man rolled his balaclava over the tip of his slightly bumpy nose for the first time in your presence and you did your best to remain normal about it. 

Fuck, did he uncover his face so casually around anybody else? 

— You’re smoking? This late? — You tried to sustain the small talk in order to hide your confusion. 

— Want one? 

He proposed and you hesitated. For a moment you wanted to accept the offering. 

— No, thanks. I don’t like the smell of cigarettes on my hands.

— Then what are you doin’ outside? It’s past your bedtime, Y/N. 

“Cheeky bastard”, you thought to yourself at his stupid comment, your jaw parting slightly open in an offended manner. You wiped your sleepy face with a hand, before slouching slightly into your palm. 

— Just… I needed to get out of there and breathe. Couldn’t sleep.

Ghost hummed intrigued, before throwing the burned out smoke to the ground and crushing it with the sole of his shoe. He detached from the wall, he was leaning upon and started walking in your direction. The mask was again covering his face. 

— I might have a remedy for that. 

Curiosity was probably your biggest vice that someday might be your doom. But in that moment, something made you follow the lieutenant through the field cloaked in darkness.

You had to speed up to catch up with his massive steps, but when you did, a subtle smile appeared on your lips. Both of you broke the curfew and of course, his punishment would be way less severe than yours (if he even would suffer the consequences). But the same thrill of it, made your heart beat faster. 

— Are we going to do something mischievous? — You asked in full curiosity, keeping your head straight. 

— Thought you like stayin’ out of trouble.

— I do — you partially agreed — usually. 

An even wider grin twisted your cheeks, exposing some of your teeth. Ghost discreetly took a glimpse at you, though you didn’t notice due to the hood covering his head. 

— You’re up to something, Y/N?

— A thing or two.

He hummed, before responding.  

— Should I worry? 

— Of course no, sir. 

The man chuckled. Barely audible, but he did and he couldn’t deny it. It might have been the first time you heard him behaving so casually. 

After a short walk you reached the parking lot and only then you began understanding what his “remedy” was. Ghost opened the passenger’s door and with a theatrical gesture invited you inside. 

Your eyes crossed with his for a moment, searching for… what? You couldn’t let your imagination too loose, the naive and stupid thoughts that were gathering inside your own head had to be gone. Immediately. 

— Where’re going? — A simple question was asked, when he started the engine of the vehicle. 

— That’s classified. 

— Very funny. Got another? 

You satirically asked, your face staying calm and unbothered. Maybe slightly frustrated, but that’s exactly what he wanted to pull from his subordinate. He took a sick pleasure in toying with you like that. 

— Plenty. What does the Loch Ness monster eat? — Ghost said in a stoic manner, while you  lifted your brow in anticipation. — Fish and ships. 

There was a moment of complete silence, before you laughed out loud. The joke was utterly bad and dry, yet somewhat funny.

But the truth was he brightened up your mood even if only a little, it has taken the burden off your shoulders.

— Saving those for later or what?

— Aye, special occasions. 

Involuntarily your cheeks flustered as you could feel the warmth spreading over your face. Thank God it was dark, but still – afraid of getting caught, you turned your head toward the window. Even if you didn’t see a single thing outside. 

Ghost stopped near the guard’s post to identify himself. And well, you too. The warden said nothing and let the two of you pass to the road leading outside of the base. 

— Uhm, sir? — You spoke out as soon as he rolled up the window. — Won’t they report that we… sneaked out?

— Don’t worry about that. 

The ride was calm and silent. The radio was turned off and since he didn't share how long your voyage would last, you got comfortable in a passenger’s seat, leaning over the doors. 

Then, something broke the mind numbing silence with a short whisper.

— Simon.

— What?

— You keep callin’ me “sir”, it makes me feel ol’. You can address me by that instead. — He explained.

— Just in the privacy of our conversations?

— Positive. 

— Now, that seems fair. You know my name for far longer, but you just adore staying mysterious, do you? 

— Mhm. And deadly. 

He kept focusing on the road ahead for a couple more minutes, a quarter perhaps. Quickly you became sleepy, body snuggled in the corner of the cabin – the rocking of the car and the scent of Simon’s cologne lulling you to sleep. 

It was strange, not so long ago you couldn’t rest in the bunker’s bed and now, curled up in a moving vehicle? He surely had to put some spell on you. Otherwise, you would never let your guard down. 

If not for him continuing the conversation, you would surely fall asleep right there and then. 

— Wanna ask you a question, Y/N, but need you to answer truthfully. 

— That’s kind of insulting for you to assume I would lie, Lt. 

— It’s more of a proposition really — Ghost’s whole arms jolted as he changed the gear, the damn machine was old and cranky. — You wanna talk about what happened? 

You knew perfectly well what he was asking about – “the Shadows” incident that happened nearly three weeks ago. For a brief moment, a minute perhaps, you were infuriated. 

“Oh, so that’s what it is about”, you thought disappointed to yourself. Disappointed, but why? What were your expectations of this late night drive with your lieutenant?

Surely the severe beating from Graves’ boys gave you a concussion if you dared to think about something more regarding your lieutenant. Especially to the infamous soldier Ghost. 

But the truth was, you took a liking to him earlier than the interrogation took place – it wasn't the fault of a head injury, you were just a naive, stupid girl. 

You took a deep breath in and out, gluing your eyes to the glass window on your left, shielding yourself from his sight. 

— I was… terrified, after what happened — you started explaining slowly, feeling as if the car had stopped and the engine was turned off — I don’t know why, but the beating and bruises weren’t the worst part. He scared me.

— He threatened you. 

— In a way that… extracted primal fear. Fuck — you slowly turned your head in his direction, to see Ghost was listening carefully all this time — do you know, what I mean? I–

— I understand. Such interrogations are purely based on psychological torture. But that’s not the reason you’ve been acting strange.

— What do you mean, “strange”?

Now you have begun to feel truly offended.

— Wanna play silly now, Y/N? You’re better than that. 

— Fine — you snorted, the bridge of your nose slightly frowning — I don’t like your special treatment. In this field people get hurt, you know that. I’m not a cripple. 

— Never said you are.

— Then why do you keep sending me away? 

— Because you’re stupid enough to keep pushin’ yourself until you bleed instead of properly healing. Wounded soldier is a dead weight. 

This time he sounded meaner, almost like he was reprimanding you for your effort to be a valuable soldier. To him, you were behaving irresponsible. 

— I temper myself to reach your fucking standards. — You raised your voice for the first time this evening and quickly remembered who you were talking to, your lieutenant. You were on the verge of losing everything you have been working for. Would he be willing to remove you from his team? The panic overwhelmed your senses, you couldn’t breathe. — I need air. 

You pushed the doors open and jumped out of the car, circling it before stopping near the mask. Ghost got out too and slowly walked over like a vulture following his next meal. 

— Since when do you care so much about others' opinions, hm? 

But you stayed silent, probably thinking too much. He knew you were very cautious with your responses, but he wanted to hear the unfiltered truth. So Simon kept pushing. 

— I asked you a question. 

He stepped closer, cornering you between him and the mask of the car. It was hard to notice any switches in his gaze only illuminated by moonlight, his skull mask successively casted a shadow over his eye sockets. Ghost took a step forward and you one back – your fiery eyes finally noticing something eerie in his dark globs. 

— I don’t care what others say about me. 

— No? Then why do you try so hard to impress me? 

The masked man took another step in your direction, causing you to bump into the car’s mask with your thighs and ass.

— Because you’re my lieutenant. 

— Is that so?

Ghost’s hoarse, deep voice caused you to feel the vibrations of his voice in your body.

He leaned impossibly close, slowly placing his hands on both sides of you, physically caging you between his arms and a vehicle. You had to turn your head slightly to the side in order not to bump into his mask. 

Fuck you could feel his warm breath on your neck. 

— Y–Yes.

— That didn’t sound convincin’ enough. 

You looked down, slightly ashamed of your incompetence at that moment, cheeks flushed pink. It only took Simon to come closer to you, to strip you of the ability to talk back. 

— When you joined my team, I didn’t think you’d be difficult. I was wrong, everythin’ about you was a hassle. You’ve been a burden on my mind, girl. And now, look at you – jumpin’ ‘round me, tryin’ to fall back into my favor. Does an average soldier do things like this? 

Now that he put it that way… You began revaluing your priorities. Was your little crush that obvious? 

One of his hands began caressing your hip in a soothing motion. If he wanted to, Ghost could pin you down with the force he carried. Yet, the gentle giant was trying to persuade you to talk. 

— N–No. 

— No — he repeated with a much gentler gaze. — Then why do you care about my opinion so much? 

— I didn't want you to think I’m weak. But lately… — your sweet voice broke down, the shame washing over you as you finally confessed. — I’m a pathetic disaster, because I took your offer for comfort and now you’re taking me for someone…

But before you finished, he cut you off. 

— I offered you support, because I understand what you’ve been through.

— I felt humiliated — you hesitated for a moment, before finally letting the emotions flow through your veins. Hot blood made you feel lightheaded, but at the same time adrenaline gave you strength to keep confessing  — because I like you, Simon. And you saw me… like that. 

Ghost exhaled loudly, his shoulders dropping. 

— Always so tough, aren’t you? Come ‘ere. 

Without any warning, his huge palm sneaked to the back of your head and pulled you into his chest. Your cheek was pressed tight against his fleece jacket, heat radiating through the layers. 

You found the act… soothing. Squeezed by Ghost’s arms, providing you with a feeling of security and being taken care of. How could you deny his touch, his help or kind words? 

— You’re always comforting soldiers like this? 

You lifted your head to look at him and carefully assess his reaction. From this close, you could see his eyes clearly and what hid behind them.

— Only if they’re called Y/N. 

But what he was about to do, would leave you flabbergasted.

Ghost rolled his balaclava up his nose again and leaned over your pretty face. Although his lips were scarred and you expected them to be harsh, they were nothing like that. Soft, slightly wet tissue brushed over your parted lips, teasing slightly before finally kissing you. 

One of his hands kept your head steady, the other caging your body to his. You managed to sneak your own palm, smaller and more slender than his, to Simon’s jaw and touch it tenderly. 

His mouth worked wonders on stealing your breath, causing your muscles to finally relax. Ghost lightly pulled on your lower lip, toying with it for a moment. You had a feeling that he might even bite down just to draw a little bit of blood. 

A crimson he was bathed in, the sins he had on his guilt. Who could have thought that such a distant and cold shell of a man was hiding “Simon” beneath? 

Gentle, caring Simon who fell in love with you. 

The sweet tension coiled in your belly, thighs begging for some friction. Your whole body clung to his broad form and you giggled between the kisses. 

— What? — He asked, looking at you with a spark in his eyes. 

— You’ve gone soft, Lt. Ghosts are supposed to be terrifying. 

— Mhm. And you’re supposed to be in bed at this time. 

This time it was you, who pulled the other into another hungry kiss. Your cold hand sneaked lower, under his underlined jaw and down his strong neck, so you could nuzzle your fingers between his skin and jacket.

— Will you take me to yours, Lt? — You teased shamelessly, quietly whispering into his mouth as your eyelashes fluttered. A sense of fulfillment rushed through you, when Simon finally proved to you that he cared as much as you did. 

— Playin’ a dangerous game, Y/N.

Ghost kept playing with the strands of your hair that poured through his fingers. With the other arm he kept you close, soaking up the faint moment, an intimacy with you.

Blonde man precisely felt the curves of your chest clinging closely to his broad chest. Your lungs were filling and emptying at the same rhythm. He couldn’t stop staring at your beautiful eyes, stars reflecting in their pupils. 

Simon Riley knew he shouldn’t get attached to anyone – he was a soldier and life was cruel for people like you two. But when he held you in his arms, breathing so softly, Simon wasn’t regretful. 

Not a single fucking bit. 

He finally had found you.

[soft-girl-musings]

An Unexpected Proposition (pt. 1)

based on this prompt from @imaginexhobbit, previously submitted under @jawn-i-made-coffee

cross-posted to ao3

part 2

Kíli x fem!Reader

tags: mentions of blood/injury, Reader is described as tall (by human standards), Y/N is used

wc: 1,615

fic summary: An injured dwarf appears on your doorstep. Do you grant him sanctuary on this stormy night?

A/N: posting this is totally self-indulgent and very out of left field for this blog but idc, we just reached 800 ao3 hits on this bad boy (some days we blog for the younger self anyway). I submitted this from my high school blog and revamped it in 2020, might flesh it out beyond pt 2 if the muse strikes.

Thunder and lightning seem to battle for superiority in the storm, chasing heavy torrents North. The evening is dark and damp, but you don’t mind. Your cottage is as safe a haven as any. You sit before your hearth, fire blazing as you bury yourself beneath several blankets, a mug of tea warming your lap. Nothing could ruin your cozy evening alone.

As if on cue, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminates the windows. A bloodied man’s face is pressed against the glass, his lips moving incoherently. You stifle a scream. In an instant you have your sword in hand and cloak about your shoulders, ready to face your intruder. Throwing the door open, you strike a defensive stance and scan the property. To your right, you see that it is no man at all, but a dwarf bleeding out in your garden. Dark hair clings to his face, bruised and battered. Blood marrs his complexion as rainwater drenches him. Before you can speak, the dwarf doubles over and begins to heave into your prized rose bush. You grimace.

"Please," he rasped, "please, I ask for sanctuary." His knees give way with the last syllable. You manage to catch him before he falls into the mud.

"I’ve got you, sir dwarf." Propping him up, you guide him inside. "Poor thing, you're soaked to the bone."

His small frame would not have been so heavy if not for his copious belongings. The dwarf seemed to have packed for a long journey, which had somehow led him to your door. You stumble over to the kitchen and deposit him in a chair, his head lolling to one side. You pour a cup of water and help him drink.

“Thank you,” he manages to rasp after downing a second glass. Life seemed to be returning to him already. “I do not mean to be a bother.”

You tilt your head quizzically. “If anyone’s bothered, sir dwarf, it’s you. Come, let me help you--” you assist him in his efforts to remove his belongings from his weary shoulders. He shivers fiercely, but does not refuse your help.

You notice how cold and pale he is. “Best not to strain yourself… let me start a bath for you. Your wounds need to be cleaned before they are dressed.”

You hand him a blanket and lead him to a partition in the next room. “Here, you can wrap yourself in this while I start the water.” The dwarf removes his outer layers and complies, his dark eyes never leaving you as you begin the tedious task of hauling numerous pots of hot water to the tub.

“Why are you helping me?” he finally asks, his face growing more puzzled with each trip you make.

You stop in your tracks, offering a shrug. “Because you asked.”

With that, you leave him to his bath.

You gather the dwarf’s wet clothing and lay each article in front of the still-warm stove. On the other side of the table lay his daypack and weapons. You hadn’t taken the time to inspect them before: the dwarf had been carrying archery equipment, numerous knives, and a shortsword. You examine each piece with reverence. The dwarves were renowned for their craftsmanship in the forges, but you had never seen proof of their handiwork until this moment. The blades were smaller than any you were used to, expertly fashioned with intricate detail.

"Like what you see, then?"

You jump at the sudden voice, dropping a knife. The dwarf had come out dressed in the shirt and trousers you had laid out for him. He stands by the fire, drying his hair.

"I was just admiring your weapons, sir-"

"Kíli."

You nod. "(Y/N)." You notice the color has already returned to his skin and his cuts were clean. He had looked much worse before; in the light of the fire, he was almost handsome. "Feeling any better?"

"Oh, loads. I cannot thank you enough for taking me in." He grins, and you can’t help but follow suit.

"What were you doing out there? Facing that storm as you were seemed like a deathwish."

"I had the misfortune of running into some bad company at your tavern." His body fell heavily into a chair by the fireplace.

"I'm afraid the locals do not take kindly to dwarves," you say with an apologetic smile, standing to join him in your earlier seat. "What are you doing so far West? Your people are native to the mountains, I was led to believe."

You realize how young the dwarf was when his face breaks out in another eager grin. "I'm on a quest. I was on my way to Hobbiton."

You lean forward, intrigued. "The Shire? What kind of quest concerns the halflings?"

Kíli tells you of his Uncle's plan to reclaim Erebor for the dwarves. He makes sure to highlight how dangerous the task may prove to be. You try to hide your amusement, but your shaking shoulders and involuntary simper do not escape your companion's eye.

Kíli crosses his arms. "Is something funny?"

You wipe a tear from your cheek. "I'm sorry, but you look like you've seen nary a battle in all your days."

"What, like you have, lass?" he scoffs, nodding toward your sword propped by the door. "I'll bet you've never laid a hand on that weapon of yours until tonight."

Your expression darkens. "Watch your words, sir dwarf. I have seen and spilt more blood than you would care to believe."

Kíli shrinks back in his chair. "Y-yeah? When?" Even under correction, his excitement could not be diminished.

You tell him of your past days as a soldier. Having always been tall for your age, you had cut your hair and enlisted in a male disguise when you were barely sixteen. You regale him with tales of the lands you had seen and battles you fought as a young woman among hardened men. The fading storm is the perfect backdrop for your stories; in truth, it had been a long time since you'd been able to talk about your fighting days, and you revel in the drama of the moment. Kíli clings to your every word, apparent awe and admiration dancing across his features. Many hours and cups of tea pass between you before you conclude your saga, the fire having long since died down.

You yawn. Dawn was but a few hours away. "It's late. You must leave in the morning, I assume?"

"Yes, I have to get back on the road."

You stand and stretch your aching muscles. "We should both get to bed, then. I have an extra room you're welcome to." You hold out your hand. "Goodnight, Kíli."

Kíli rises and takes your hand, but instead of shaking it as you intended, he leans forward and kisses the back of it. Your face grows warm at the surprising softness of his lips. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

He turns to leave, but stops and looks back at you.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave that kind of life? You spoke so fondly of your time in service."

You give a sad smile. "Let’s just say it wasn’t by choice." You begin to walk to your bedroom, but Kíli grabs your hand as you pass.

"If you had the chance, would you go back?"

You squeeze his hand and wink. "In a heartbeat."

__________

"What's all this, then?" You laugh. From the looks of it, Kíli had been cooking a small feast since before dawn.

"Good morning, my lady!" Kíli wipes his hands on a cloth and bows with great bravado. "I hope you don't mind me raiding your larder. I wanted to express my gratitude for your generosity." He takes your hand and leads you to the head of the table, fixing your plate once you sit down.

"You really didn't have to do this."

"Ah, 'course I did! I'd have drowned if it wasn't for you."

You spend the morning laughing and eating your way through the meal with Kíli, realizing how much you will miss his company in the days ahead. He’s been a refreshing change of pace for the simple monotony you’d build for yourself. As you wash the dishes after your meal, you notice he is dressed in his clothes from last night, weapons and bag secured to his back.

"All set, then?" You know your face betrays you, but you don’t care if he knows how sad you are. You had gained a friend last night.

"Not quite." He practically bounds up to your side, that familiar grin plastered onto his features. "I have something to ask of you."

You set down the plate you had been scrubbing. "And what's that?"

"Will you join me? On my quest, I mean?" His face is radiant with expectation and excitement.

You busy yourself with another dish, shaking your head. “Kíli, I’m not quite sure what to say-"

"Say yes! (Y/N), you told me yourself that you missed your old life. This would be the perfect chance for you to reclaim it!"

Despite all logic, you realize how right he is. Some small but powerful part of you had longed to be on the road with him when he spoke to you last night. You knew it was rash, but your heart was already pumping from the mere mention of excitement, aching to get out in the world once more. The quiet life you had been leading was nice, but it paled in comparison to the journey Kíli now offered. You craved adventure. When else would you have the opportunity to taste it?

"I'll have my things packed within the hour."

__________

A/N: you ever feel an old hyperfixation staring you down, threatening to return if you look at it too long? that might be happening again. only time will tell.

tysm for reading!

[life-series-school-blog]

Here’s a valentines special (pretend this a other day with no chaos) :3

—

Velvet: ranchers taking a while..

Rancher: um velvet..?

Velvet: oh! hey love! Um Hi!

Rancher: hello! I- um.. I made you this!

Hands flowers

Velvet: oh! T-thank you! It’s lovely.. I made you some muffins for.. you know..

Rancher: I love you! I-I mean I love them! But I also do love you..! Thank you!

(This is my favorite awkward couple)

—

Bone: miss dahlia! I finished everything! Would you like me to take care of your homework as well?

Dahlia: no. It’s alright, I’ll survive. Take today off early since today is apparently special or whatever…

Bone: *gasp* really miss dahlia??!?!

Dahlia: *Sigh* yes… Stop wagging your tail and go before I change my mind.

Bone: yes sir!

—

???: …Martyn im really sorry!

???: I miss you, you know?

???: whisper said to stop sending this but I can’t

???: happy valentine-

Pearl: you should really stop listening to those! It won’t stop the fact you’re lonely!

Martyn: shut it and go away.

Pearl: suit yourself!

Pearl leaves

Martyn: …

—

Blood: sire I made this for you!

Winter: a paper crown..?

Blood: I’d thought you’d like it.. I’m sorry I’ll throw it away..

Winter: I do like it so stop thinking like that. it’s very pretty thank you.

Blood: I’m glad!

—

TW!!: Abuse & Forced love/Toxic relationship(is that what’s it called? Idk :P)

.

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. You sure?

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.you’ve been warned!

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Red: you did what.

Grian: I-I’m sorry red! I didn’t mean to-

Red hits Grian and Grian falls to the floor

Red: if you didn’t mean to then why is it broken? Your Mine Servant remember? Act like it.

Grian: I-i didn’t mean t-to.. I-I’m so- so sorry

Red: say who you belong to.

Grian: I-i belong t-to you.. red..

Red: Good, now Kiss me.

Grian: b-but r-red i-

Red grabs Grian by the collar and kisses him

Red: remember this: your mine and no one else’s. And if you dare defy me again I won’t hesitate to hit you again.

Grian:…

Red: happy Valentine’s Day.

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—

Scar: Scott! Scott! Scottt!

Scott: um yes scar..?

Scar: I heard you make things for everyone you care about in Valentine’s Day! So I made this for you! I carved it myself!

Scott: oh! Thank you scar.. I’ll put it by my nightstand! Anyway now we-

Scar: wait! I made more things!

Pulls out five boxes

Scar: do you wanna go alphabetical order? or maybe biggest to smallest?

Scott: oh god…

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

I'm actually surprised someone appreciated my little attempt.

I'm jiggling happily, even though you can't see.

Also, I'm unexpectedly enjoying writing in english, so as long as whatever I'm goddamn studying will let me, I'll keep on with this experiment.

I hope you like it!

Also forgive me again for any mistakes, english has too many consonants that are not pronounced and I mess up every time

DISCLAIMERS: no smut (sowwy) just some recollection of dirty moments, GhostxReader and Soap and Gaz 'cause finally they're throw into this mess, arguing (again), the gnome-nickname thing, blame shifting (again), how-not-to-do-training, ignoring doctor's advices, insubordination and yells ('cause me too i yell like an eagle when i'm angry), mask covering embarrassment

..................................................

Second part here:

................................................

And you do. You ask. And you shouldn't have.

«Of fucking course we noticed. It was like ye were constantly overwhelmed by…i don't know what, i've not a degree in women's hormones»

Johnny sips his morning coffee with nonchalance, while Gaz nods, sitting in front of the two of you. 

You're almost gonna faint. 

«And…and why the hell none have told me-»

«Oh, sure lassie, and how do ye think ye would have taken the news? "Hey dall, you know that ye're almost dripping from your panties?"»

Gaz throws a towel at him, but he agrees with another nod.

«Speak as you eat> he scolds him, then he turns at you: <he's right, though. You've acted weird the whole two last days. Why are you asking?»

 You bury your head in your hands, swallowing breakfast as it is dry sand in your throat.

«…nevermind. I'm just sorry at this point»

«There's no use lassie, we know ye» Soap's arm surrounds you, squeezing away a little bit of the anguish. «And ye'r not the only girl at the base, ya know? It happens»

«Seriously?»

«'F course»

«…my god. So now you know the period calendar of every female being at the base?»

«Kinda»

«…mh»

«Is he bothering you?»

You look at Gaz. He seems concerned and curious, and you don't really want him to be none of that. You don't know what to answer anyway, and reply arrives with ten seconds of delay:

«…he?»

«Ghost»

You shiver instinctively. And you know for sure that Johnny has felt you, but you shake your head like hell, pretending vigorously that you don't even know what Gaz's talking about.

«Why?»

«We've seen him around you a lot. And he could be demanding when someone's not giving his best at training. And…»

«…ye'r clearly not doing it» Soap ends the sentence with a teasing smile.

You answer with a pout, flexing your muscles.

«That's totally untrue. I'm always at my best»

«Raise your levels than, since i think he's ready to squeeze you like a lemon today»

It seems like Gaz 's talking really philosophically this morning. You raise an eyebrow at him, then follow his gaze behind you.

And you gulp, seeing a big, dark figure walking toward the table.

You swallow an oatmeal crumb, risking choking on yourself. Then a firm, strong grip holds your shoulder, making your bones crack like they're made out of crackers.

Ghost's voice hits you like a truck.

«I was wondering what could've made you late for the training». He glares at you from the top. «Breakfast. Of fucking course»

You hear the light laugh of Soap and Gaz, who're apparently taking the Lt.'s threatening as a funny joke. You're not. You're shivering, swallowing hot air, lowering your eyes deeper and deeper in the oatmeal. Your heart skips a beat as he tightens his hold on you.

«You have one minute»

And you swallow a "yes sir" in a breath.

Today is not your day. Not at all.

You've already noticed it, but it is clearer now that you're in the middle of the training field, with everyone's eyes on you, while your Lt. (who's fingered you, like, two days ago) has just chosen you for fight practice.

You're sweating like hell, taking deep breaths. You're already drained, even if everything you've done till now is just tryna not to be touched by his fists; and he's trying to knock you out with way more diligence than you've thought.

You're dodging, your legs tremble at every sudden jerk you make to avoid crushing your nose on his fists, and the tactic seems to be working till he reaches your leg with a kick. You fall on your back, hitting your head on the ground like an idiot, and he's on you in a blink of an eye, squeezing your wrist in one hand and your throat in the other.

You panic.

And the tiniest of the whines break on your lips.

He squeezed harder all of a sudden, gripping your throat with full strength, gazing at you with a strange, really odd sight. Like he's annoyed, angry and aroused at the same time. 

He lets you go, and you start to cough, with your throat bruised and your head and lungs hurting. You glare at him, and he does the same.

He spits out a cold: «what?» as if he's throwing an ice cubes bucket at you.

«Is not that fair» you don't fear to answer honestly, even if you're voice is being squeezed out of your lungs «fighting with a girl who's 30 cm smaller than you»

«Oh, my bad. And, out of curiosity…» he lowered his face down to you, pinning you to the ground with just his sight «what are you planning to do if you'll face an enemy my size?»

«Shot at him»

«Good one, gnome. But you're disarmed by now»

«…run, then. Hide, i dunno. There's no point in start a fight that's lost from the beginning»

And he smile. You know he's smiling, part 'cause the others rookies surrounding you are watching in total silence as they're afraid he might choose one of them to break their bones (and he might); and part 'cause he knows he's in control. 

He suddenly breath, sharp like a knife: «than, run»

You stare at him.

He's joking…right?

No.

He's not.

And you understand it as he stands up in all of his height, grabbing you by the arm and lifting your weight as if it's nothing. You stumble on your feet, breath still scattered, and again he glares at you, shouting a clearer:

«Run»

Your legs move by themselves.

You find yourself running like hell throughout the training field, clearly feeling his presence behind you, and you know how goddamn fast he is. You skip through other training groups. slipping between obstacles, your eyes fixed in front of you and your lungs about to explode. You keep going for what's like an eternity, and when you think you're doing it…

a firm grip holds you by the arm. Your body is forced to stop so suddenly that your breath is broken under the pressure of an opposite force throwing you on the ground. Your spine is smashed on the field, lungs are shaking and throbbing in your ribcage and, as you turn over on your stomach to try and get up again, he just kicks you in the back, grabbing your arm and pin it behind you so tight, rotating it with a lot of strength.

Too much strength,

And you yell like an eagle, feeling the nerve in your elbow cry as it turns on itself.

«Ulnar nerve compression»

Doc is so professional in front of you two, who, on the other hand, seems like a cat and its owner at the vet after a bad fight.

Ghost is clearly embarrassed. He's trying to be professional and stern, but he can't even face your gaze, which is ice-cold. You're sitting next to him, your arm bandaged just as much as it is needed to make sure you don't move it, and you're trying to squeeze a laser beam out of your eyes and make your lieutenant into a strainer.

What in the actual fuck

«Do not move it for a day. It is better for you to make it rest, otherwise you can make other damages. And» doctor gaze at Ghost under his little round glasses «please, be more careful with the training»

It seems like he would like to add something (it's the third time in a month Ghost nearly breaks someone's body part just for training), but the doctor just sighs. He let you two get out of the infirmary, and as soon as you're alone in the corridor Ghost collect his breath to shout a not so convinced:

«…i'm sorry»

But this time you're ready.

«No. No, you're not»

«I am»

«You're just amused»

He stops, looking at you while you walk away in all of your 165 cm of glory and stillness. Then he reaches you again, not daring to touch any part of your body since he's already done enough damage.

«What does that even mean?»

«It means that you enjoy being able to crush whoever you want with bare hands»

«Like 's something the others don't enjoy»

«Not in that way». You raise your bandaged arm, hissing a painful breath. «We were training! Why couldn't we just do it normally?»

«Fight practice is normal, gnome»

«Not like that! My elbow had turned fucking purple!»

«You could've just run faster»

You stop. Your face jerks toward him, glaring at his goddamn mask like you're gonna spit fire from your mouth, and you have to look like a crazy owl since he doesn't seem to be frightened.

«Look» you start, restraining yourself from yelling «I'm not the best soldier, but I've never had problems with any of my superiors, i do my work and i don't act like a pussy. But I'm human. Ok? H-u-m-a-n»

«Seems like you know your limits»

«Of course i do, that's why-»

«You could've just told me to stop»

«Why me?!» you suddenly hiss through your teeth, looking desperately at the man who seems to enjoy your incoming aneurysm. «We…we used to eat the same breakfast, laughing with your team, speaking about cats in the morning…why have you started to play this goddamn game with me?? What has changed in two days?»

«You»

He breathes the answer like it is obvious, and your brain glitch for a second.

«…what?»

«You've changed» 

«Are you joking with me? What-how would i…»

Then you start connecting dots. Your gaze meets him again, piercing his mask.

«…is it because of that night? Is it still because of my goddamn moaning?»

And you know he's embarrassed.

You know it, since he doesn't know where to put his hands, and how to look properly at you. He rushes to speak again, choking the sudden loss of words in a stern: «I've already explained: it's your behavior»

«Seriously? You can't go forward? Did it seriously hit you that bad?»

«Don't» and he gives back the piercing-sight «play with me, gnome. Watch your fucking mouth»

«I've literally done nothing»

«You breath»

You raise your eyebrows, charge your voice and blow your cheeks: «oh, i'm so sorry if i function like a human being!»

«Is how you do it, you stupid little-»

«Oh no, don't you dare try to-»

«To what?»

«To put the blame on me!»

«Well i can't do that much 'bout it!»

Voices are lowering a little too much outside the infirmary. You stop your feet, turn again at him and stare at his glare with arms crossed, ready to scold your superior (even if it is the most stupid thing to do)...

but you shut.

He's a few steps away from you, eyes down on the floor and head a little titled. Your jaw dropped a little.

«…are you flustered?»

You can clearly see his brain snapping at light fast. And you know well how better it is for you to shut, pretend nothing happened and go away on your feet (till you've got functioning legs), but you can't do much about how fast your mouth opens, and your voice starts to come dangerously out in a whispered:

«Am i really turning you on?»

....................................................

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 2 - The First Mission

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

At the start,  every time soldiers came to take you on a mission you fought them. You would knock a few out or you leave broken bones. Sometimes other assets tried to intervene but ended up getting injured in the process, And the end result was always the same.  You strapped to a chair and tortured. It was now at a point where when you were called on a mission,  an alarm would sound in whatever room you were in and if there were people in that room they would have to line up against the wall. Leaving you in the middle of the room. The instructions were clear once the alarm was set you were to lie on your stomach with your hands behind your head. Once all the soldiers had entered and all weapons were on you. You were then forced to stand and escorted out of the room. When you finally managed to go on your first mission. Of course with Rumlow... sigh. You had to try and retrieve some case from some guy. You really couldn't care less.  What you cared about was you and Rumlow had to act like a couple which of course for him meant he could touch you. As you both entered the ballroom you stopped in your tracks. "Not as beautiful as you "Rumlow whispered right in your ear. "It's not the room I'm in awe by " you scowled at him "I think I'm a bit overwhelmed by actually being outside for the first time in 2 years" you hissed storming over to the bar. "Follow her ' the voice from Rumlows hear piece commanded "Y/n stay with Rumlow " your earpiece commanded. You rolled your eyes as you got the barman’s attention. "Tequila double neat please " Rumlow approached you and slid his arm around your waist. "Darling you shouldn't walk off like that" and he kissed your temple. "Look jerk I told you I'm not interested, please leave me alone." You turned your back to him. " Hey," Rumlow shouted grabbing you by the shoulder and turning you to face him. "What the fuck are you doing?" "Hey" a voice shouted from beside you both, "I think the lady said to leave her alone" "Look buddy this has nothing to do with you" Rumlow hissed not even looking at the man. "I think it has everything to do with me," the man said sternly grabbing Rumlow by the shoulder. As Rumlow turned round to knock the man out his face paled and he stopped. "Yes my friend, it has everything to do with me" the man smiled at Rumlow. "Well sir" Rumlow stuttered. "Step down Rumlow,  step away from the target" the earpiece stated. Rumlow nodded at the man and walked off. "You better not fuck this up," your earpiece said. "I said are you okay Miss?"  the target asked again. "I'm sorry just a bit shaken up. Thank you for coming to my rescue though" You smiled at Mr. Gaines. "Are you here with anyone? " Mr. Gaines asked. "I was meant to be " you sighed forcing yourself to tear up. Hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions. "May I buy you a drink Miss?" Gaines said extending his hand. "Chloe" you smiled taking his hand "and that’s the best idea I've heard all night Mr.?" "Micky please " he insisted. "And tonight you are with me, any man would be crazy to stand you up. So no more tears" "No more tears' you promised. After an hour and a few more drinks your earpiece boomed making you jump, you had forgotten all about it. "We need the briefcase Y/l/n." Again you rolled your eyes and took the earpiece out throwing it in your bag. Even though the earpiece was gone you knew there were still eyes. You and Micky spent the next few hours drinking laughing and dancing. Even though it was a mission it was the most fun you had in years. "Well my dear would you like to take this party to a more private area. I have a room upstairs with the most amazing view of the city " he asked. "I would love to" you laughed. When you entered the room you couldn't help but gasp,  the view over the city was amazing. As you stood on the balcony with the wind in your face you closed your eyes. It had been so long since you felt it. Your eyes shot open when you felt a kiss planted on your shoulder "Champagne" The target stated handing you a glass. "Thank you, it really is beautiful " you whispered looking out. "Not as much as you" he complimented. You laughed and said "You really are a charmer. I bet you say that to all the girls." "Only the most beautiful ones" he winked at you. You shyly smiled back but shivered. "Stay right there," he said handing you his glass let me get you a coat." He returned and placed his coat over your shoulders and took his glass back. You thanked him and you both started slipping on your champagne. When he came with two more glasses. You laughed "Trying to get me drunk Mr. Gaines. Your already my Knight in shining armor so I'm already planning on repaying you." You bit your lip and placed your hand on his chest and kissed him. As he deepened the kiss he took both your glasses and set them on the table. "No need in wasting time then" he took your hand and all but dragged you to the bedroom. As you kissed him again you pushed him onto the bed. "Feisty,  I like it " he smirked. As you tried not to be sick you slowly slid your dress off leaving you in your underwear. The Target slid himself up the bed so he was resting on the pillows. You straddled him and started to kiss him again as you kissed his neck he moaned. When you nibbled on his ear no sound came from him. You did it again,  nothing. As you sat up you stared at the sleeping man in front of you "Some men just can't hold their sleeping pills." You laughed to yourself. You then put your earpiece back in and turned it on. When you spoke a lot of different voices started to curse you out. "Okay relax the target is asleep. I slipped him the pill when he was away. Now I'm looking for the briefcase." you barked back. When someone was in the middle of ripping you a new one you found the briefcase in a hidden drawer. "Got it' you confirmed cutting off the voice. "Two men outside the door," the voice said again. You made sure your makeup was smudged you lowered one of the straps on your dress and didn't even bother putting your shoes on. You hid the briefcase under the jacket Gaines had given you and stumbled out the door. "Oops" you giggled and straightened yourself and swayed a bit. When you looked at the two bodyguards you cocked your head and pointed. "Have you two been here the whole time?" But they didn't answer "Shame would have loved to be the filling in that triple-decker. Your boss has my number maybe next time we could all partake. " You winked and stumbled into the elevator. When in the elevator you straightened up but you didn't put the jacket or your shoes on. When you got off Rumlow, He and a few others were waiting for you. "That was a dangerous stunt Y/l/n you pull that shit again ill make sure your under for every mission" "Alright relax here's your stupid case" you sighed shoving it into his chest. "Where the fuck is the toilet?" When someone pointed it out you marched over throwing the coat and shoes also into Rumlows chest. "Hold these" you ordered. "You’re not the boss around here" he called after you. "Yea and you remind us all of it" you shouted back. While in the bathroom you noticed the window. You shimmied out of it. Could you finally make your escape? After 15 mins Rumlow commanded someone go in and when they’d realised you weren't there,  full panic mood was activated. There was one person though who didn't panic and that was Pierce. "It's okay Rumlow consider this part of her training it will help with her stealth.” You managed two days. Then when you were out trying to find food you heard the beginning of those 9 words. "Ready to comply" you stated standing still. "Welcome back little mouse " Pierce grinned.

And so began you your cat-and-mouse chase with Hydra.

[warnersister]

Chapter 15 - An apology is a blessing

The Highwayman Series | Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

you stepped for into the house you once deemed your own. it was cold, bare - untouched. you felt estranged in it, as if you'd never really been in it in the first place. maverick led you up the stairs, that damned step creaking again as you stepped on it, eyes impaled on the closed door that held the man you may as well have deemed as dead. jake placed a warm gentle hand on the small of your back and gave you a small, reassuring smile as you took a deep breath and nodded to give Maverick the dreaded go ahead.

he opened the door, and all you could describe it as was walking into a mortuary. your father was deathly ill, a greyish and sickly pallor decorating a hollow face, a shell with no crab, a mosquito with no host, he was a vector with no offerings. "hello, daddy" you say quietly, and the corpse's eyes moved in the direction of your voice. you knew he wasnt dead, but in your mind he'd died a long time ago, Beau Simpson died when you were twelve and buried himself in that grave alongside your mother. no, that was Sheriff Simpson dying on the bed. not your daddy. "baby" he whispers, reaching a weak hand out and you held it instinctively, kneeling by his side and stroking his forehead which was perspiring with a damp and cold sweat.

"yeah daddy, 'm here" you say, comfortingly "is Jake here?" he asked "'m here, sir" jake replies and your father breaks out into a gentle and choked sob "oh darlin, 'm so sorry" he wails, throwing his head to the side as he sobs "i was so, so damned selfish" he takes your face with his other hand and his thumb ghosts over the tracings of your cheek bones "y'look just like her, y'know?" he asks and you nod, starting to well up yourself. "oh i just couldnt see that; that little girl died with 'er that day, y'aint no girl, no more, y'a woman" he says "and i cant die a happy man knowing i was dead t'ya already" he murmurs, looking behind you at jake who watched on silently "hangman" he nods and jake mirrors his actions respectively "let me apologise t'you and y'boys." he says "i was foolish, foolish t'blame my own misunderstandin' on ya. just didn't want to admit that my lil girl was findin' her own way" he says and jake swallows a lump in his throat "son, marry 'er before i die. need to know she's safe" jake removes his replacement stetson of his head and shakes your fathers hand, a singular tear drop falling down his cheek as he nods "it'd be my honour, sir."

the other three quietly enter the room, watching the scene before them "'m so sorry boys, so sorry. all charges 'ave been cleared from y'names." he says and they quietly thank him for his apology. "lemme die with some piece o' mind" he requests and you stroke his hand gently "yeah daddy, o' course" you agree. maverick clears his throat "Penny's set up a small ceremony out in the field, if y'wanna get married now" he suggests and you and jake eye each other "Mav" your father calls and Pete looks over at him with an eyebrow raised "will y'walk 'er down the isle?" he asks and your uncle nods, "o'course, Beau"

you look at Jake and he looks back at you "lets go get married"

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

[cannedbeefaroni]

Real Men (Burt Fabelman x Fem!Reader) (Angst)

Update: here’s part two. It contains smut btw

Summary: An artist breaks down from burnout in a park. A passerby takes notice and shows her sympathy.  Content: DEPRESSION, HOPELESSNESS, DADDY ISSUES, HURT/COMFORT, PINING, COULD BE ONE-SIDED, NOTHING OUTRIGHT ROMANTIC HAPPENS

Reader is referred to as she/her, and is an art major in college. She is in her mid 20′s. 

(this fic is inspired by the song Real Men by Mitski. is it still cringe to name fanfics after songs?)

Though honestly sir, all I wanna do

Is get naked in front of you

So you can look me up and down

And tell me “well done girl, you’re looking good”

She ripped the pages from her pad one by one, crumbling each one into balls before tossing each one into the trash next to the park bench she sat on. Some went in, and others rolled onto the floor. Her hot, flushed face ran with cold tears. The spring breeze sent chills to her face, reminding her of how exposed this pathetic expression was to the public. Hunching over, she buried her face in her hands, wishing she were home instead. 

Unknown to her, a passerby took notice of her distress, but once she heard approaching footsteps, her body froze. She knew the person would just carry on, not saying a word, but the fact that they were close enough to see every moment of her breakdown made her feel so much worse. The footsteps came to a stop, as she heard the cracking of bones of a person bending over, and the crumbling of paper next to her. To her horror, she looked up and saw a man unfolding one of her drawings, observing her work. 

“It’s beautiful… Why did you throw it out?” The man said, glancing back and forth between the page and her. 

She froze, wanting to just disappear. She dreaded the judgment of older figures, and this man looked as if he could be one of her stone cold professors. Between the white button-up, glasses, and demanding presence of a man with experience, she felt like she was about to get drilled into 

“I messed it up… I’m really bad at drawing landscapes.” She admitted sorrowfully. She was unfamiliar with being approached by polite strangers; she felt backed up against a wall. She dreaded awaiting the man’s response. 

“Aw, don’t say that. You’re clearly a talented artist. You shouldn’t be that hard on yourself.” He sat on the opposite end of the bench, leaving a large gap between the two. She became tense, knowing he was going to engage in more conversation with her. “So, why are you drawing in the park?” 

“I have to draw from life, it's for an assignment,” she answered sheepishly, staring down at her lap. 

“Is it a high school art class?”

“What?! I’m in college! I go to an art school,” she blurted out, her stomach churning at being mistaken for a teenager. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I just never have met anyone who’s gone to school for art… but I suppose the world needs professional artists as well…” he seemed to have trouble understanding the idea of an art school. 

“I’m trying to get into the industry, and a fine arts degree will make that easier for me.”

“I’ve never been to a school like that myself, but I imagine it’s just as stressful as any other college,” he tried to relate.

She wondered how long ago he graduated college. It was hard to tell his age, but he definitely looked old enough to have a wife and kids. Well, technically she was also, but she had only just reached the age where marriage was on her mind. On the other hand, he seemed to be at the age where his life is figured out, and he’s already created the family he’s always wanted. The way he acted reminded her of a kind and caring father; similar to the type she’d meet while visiting a friend’s house as a child. His demeanor made her smile, and she couldn’t help but trust him already. Ironically, that fact made her also feel wary of him, being unsure if people that nice can actually be genuine. 

“So, you don’t do landscapes; I wonder what kind of artist you are?” he hummed inquisitively to break the silence. Strangely enough, he did seem interested in her art. Her eyes lit up at the question, excited to discuss her interests with him. 

“I love to draw people, as in portraits and studying human anatomy. I want to be an illustrator, but in order to do that I need to improve my background art. That’s why I had to take this landscape class… It’s just so frustrating. It’s just so boring to me,” she rambled to him, flailing her hands around as she spoke to emphasize her points. He nodded along as she spoke, grinning as he looked at her with sincere eyes. 

She felt flustered every time her eyes met his, and she took notice of his expression. She wondered if he looked at her this lovingly even though she was just a stranger, then she couldn’t imagine how much love he gave his wife and kids. The thought wouldn’t leave her mind, and she felt embarrassed for wondering about his personal life so much. She didn’t know a thing about it. Perhaps he didn’t have a family at all, but that was hard to believe when he was so nurturing by nature. 

“I’d love to see your other drawings, if that's okay.” He looked back down at the drawing she threw out, tracing his fingers along the paper as he admired her work. 

She winced at the question, knowing exactly how this would go. She recalled all the times her family, teachers, and classmates would laugh in shock at her anatomical drawings. She worried he’d get the wrong idea about her, and assume she’s some kind of pervert. Or maybe he’d get the wrong idea and start seeing her sexually, as most men tend to do. She spiraled in split seconds as her trust in him dwindled in these hypothetical situations. What if he thought the nude female models she’d drawn were her? 

“I draw naked people,” she sternly blurted out, trying to set the record straight before facing embarrassment. “I have to draw naked models from life in school. I don’t want you getting grossed out by it-” 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. I already know that. I’ve been to museums; I’ve seen my fair share of nude art,” he cut her off, trying to ease her worries. “Of course, you don’t have to show me. I’d just love to see you in your element.” 

Silently, she passed her sketch pad into his hands. He carefully grabbed it, and began flipping through the pages delicately, as if it were fragile. He spent a considerate amount of time on each page. His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened as he whispered “wow” at the still life’s and figure drawings. He took everything in wholeheartedly. He reached a page with self portrait studies, and paused on it for a little bit.

“Are these of you?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“They’re gorgeous… and they really look just like you!” he praised. 

She wanted to gasp at that comment. He just indirectly called her gorgeous, and that little bit of praise made her want to explode. Her face grew even hotter than it was when she was crying earlier, and she worried that he could somehow feel the heat emitting from her. She continued to speak, but it was difficult to concentrate as he stared at her so damn innocently.

“I have to draw portraits pretty often. I don’t know anybody who’s willing to let me draw them, so I end up having to draw myself a lot. Sometimes I’m required to draw other people, so when that happens I get stuck.” She rambled until her voice trailed off, trying not to talk too much. 

“Your friends don’t let you draw them?” He raised an eyebrow. . 

“I-I don’t really have any friends, actually. But not because no one likes me; I just… keep to myself too much. I’m fine with it. I don’t really mind being alone,” she nervously laughed as she spoke, trying to seem like what she was saying was actually the truth. 

���I’m sorry. That must be lonely…” He frowned in an almost perfect inverted smile. “I hope you know it’s perfectly normal for girls your age to be shy; but I find you charismatic.” 

“I’m not as young as you think I am… I’m in my mid twenties,” she stated as politely as possible, trying to assert herself.

“You’re still very young, but you carry yourself as a mature young woman. I’m sorry if I made you feel like a child. Just shows my age, I guess,” he laughed nervously. 

“You can’t be that much older than me. I thought you were in your early thirties.” 

“Oh, I wish” he chuckled loudly at the assumption. 

Her heart sank as she realized he was probably old enough to be her father. Her head dropped in embarrassment. 

“Though, I was going to say that if you need someone to draw, I’d gladly be your model,” he grinned. 

“That’d be really helpful, actually… Thank you.” She lifted her head, almost beaming. Despite how shy of a person she was, drawing random strangers was second nature to her. He passed back her sketch pad, and she readied her pencils. 

“So, what pose should I do?” He asked giddily, clearly excited about being drawn. 

“Um, just lean your arm against the bench and rest your head against your hand.” 

She reached over, guiding his arms into position. After doing so, she realized that had moved closer to him, and even touched him. The fact that such a simple thing stuck with her made her mad at herself. Brushing it off, she sat back and began sketching. Starting with round shapes to build the body, she took in just how soft and round everything about his man was. His head shape, body, eyes, and smile were all so pleasantly round. She avoided drawing his face, so she wouldn’t have to make direct eye contact with him. Eventually, she finished rendering the folds on his shirt, the strands of hair, and even the shadows on his skin. 

She looked at him to see him staring back at her. It only just hit her that he was watching her draw this entire time. The way he stared with such a gentle expression was mesmerizing. To her, it felt like his gaze was one of yearning. She wondered if he thought she was beautiful, just like she thought of him. Her heart raced as her desire to capture his expression on paper intensified, but no matter how much she rendered, every stroke felt incorrect. She wasn’t doing his beauty justice, and her thoughts beat her up over it. Eventually she was basically finished, and she held the drawing back to observe from afar. She wished she could’ve tore it up and started over, but she didn’t want to waste his time. 

“Can I see?” He asked eagerly, leaning over to get a glance at the page. 

She looked up at him with worried eyes, and darted them back at the page as she continued to observe her work. “It’s a little rushed…”

“Come on, let me see!” 

She turned the sketch pad around, showing him the portrait. He took it into his hands slowly, staring at it in pure awe. As he occupied his vision, she stared intensely at him. He was wonderstruck. 

“There’s no way you drew this so fast,” he laughed in shock. “This is so… indescribable! I’d buy this off you if it weren’t for your assignment.”

“Thank you,” she replied blankly. 

Staring at the ground, she tried to hide her embarrassment from his overwhelming praise. It felt almost patronizing, but then she realized she hadn’t been praised for her work in so long. Usually, people don’t bat an eye at adult artists, and she only felt like a prodigy up until age eighteen, when she graduated high school. It was strange being appreciated at all, especially by someone she just met. 

“Am I really that handsome? You made me look so flattering.”

“All I did was draw what I saw.” She wondered if she portrayed him more idealized than he actually was, like a schoolgirl doodling her crush.

“Well, it must be a given, since all of your art is so beautiful. The way you view the world must be so… unique.”

“You’re probably… the kindest man I’ve ever met. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

“No, not at all,” he smiled sincerely, looking directly at her. “I like to appreciate talent when I see it, and you, my girl, have it.”

That was it. That was the final straw. Her heart was practically threatening to be spat from her throat. The tears from earlier had returned, but the feeling was different. She wasn’t convulsing; she just sat there with tears pouring like a faucet. Foolishly, she looked up at him, eyes wide open. He saw the droplets dripping down her chin and staining her top. She choked out the words “thank you,” trying to somehow salvage the conversation. 

“Oh, poor thing… what’s wrong?” reacting instantly, he placed her pad on the side of the bench, and slid over to sit closer to her. He leaned toward her slightly. 

“No, it’s nothing. I’m being silly,” she dragged her palm across her face, smearing the tears away. 

“But I saw you crying earlier too… are you okay, doll?” 

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the side of her hand before throwing her head back, leaning against the back of the bench and staring at the sky. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

Patiently, he waited for her to continue speaking. 

“I don’t know… if I’ll get anywhere with this.”

“With what specifically?”

“I don’t know. In art. In life. In every way.” She sighed deeply. 

He watched the tears roll down her face as her head was leaned back. There wasn’t much he could do besides watch, as he didn’t want to encroach on her space. “It’s too early to say that. You have so much to look forward to.”

“It feels like… like every time I try I fail. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make a career for myself at all. My only talent is art. If I can’t do that…” she didn’t finish her thought. 

“But you’re doing it. You’re in college.”

“What comes after that?” 

He shifted closer to her, leaning over. “You’ll figure it out. Don’t talk yourself out of your own happiness… just because you’re scared.” 

“If I can’t make a living for myself, I’ll have no one to rely on. I don’t think I’m the kind of girl who can get married. Then my family… is a whole different story.” 

“Wait, what do you mean ‘not the kind of girl?’” 

She stuttered, embarrassed. “I’ve been rejected too many times to count.” 

“That doesn’t mean there's something wrong with you. You just haven’t found the right one yet.” He scoffed at her statement in disbelief that she believed she was unlovable. 

She pulled her head down and hunched over. “I just want to be happy, but it’s so hard,” she started sobbing. 

He felt horrible sitting there, watching her fall apart. So desperately he wanted to do anything that could change her mind. “Do you need a hug?”

She nodded as she leaned into him to rest her face on his shoulder. His arms rested around the back of her shoulders as she weakly wrapped hers around him. He gave her reassuring pats on the back. Even though the hug was from an awkward distance, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so happy to be hugged by someone. She felt like she was sinking deeply into his warmth and softness. She wanted to never let go. In fact, the thought of letting go made her cry even more. 

“You’re gonna be okay…” he tried to let go, but she pulled him back in. He reacted with a shocked grunt. “God, you’re gonna kill me,” he laughed hoarsely. 

She quickly let go and wiped her face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ 

“No, it’s completely fine. Things are really tough for you.” 

The two of them sat silently at a distance from each other again. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the side of her hand, feeling embarrassed of how gross she felt. 

“Hey, I was wondering,” he broke the silence. “If I’m ever in need of an artist, for whatever reason, I’d want to get in touch with you.” 

“You’d want to commission me?” 

“Yes! I’d love to have a piece of art by you on my wall. Your style is beautiful.” Every word he said hit deeply. She couldn’t understand why he was so genuinely captivated by her. 

She wrote her phone number on a sheet of paper, ripped it out of the pad, and handed it to him. He neatly folded it and placed it into his shirt pocket. 

“If you want, I could give you mine as well. You deserve to have someone you can talk to. Although, It’s fine if you don’t want to. I am just some old fart you met at the park, after all.” He laughed as he looked at her with squinted eyes. 

“I think you’re a nice old fart, at least,” she sputtered through laughter. She passed her sketch pad and a pencil over to him, allowing him to write on it. 

“Oh, all this time, I didn’t even think to ask your name. I’m sorry, how rude of me,” he said bashfully. 

“It’s (Y/N),” she said. 

“Mine is Burt. It’s been a pleasure meeting you”

[holylulusworld]

Aahp (1) - A cold December night

Title: Aahp (1) A cold December night

Prompt filled for @writersmonth​​​​​ – Day: 25 - word: lips

Square filled for @sebastianstanbingo​​: Free Space - Nick Fowler

Summary: You end up being a pawn.

Pairing: Mobster!Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Mobster!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader (for now)

Other pairings: Former Mobster!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (implied)

Warnings: angst, language, unrequited love, sad reader, sadness, Ransom being an asshole (implied), soft Nick, grumpy Andy (but he’s got a weak spot for lost girls)

Words: 1,5 k

A/N: *Pookie = is a term of endearment for someone or something that you care about deeply in your life.

Angel and her protectors masterlist

Sebastian Stan Bingo masterlist

It’s a late and cold December night as you aimlessly walk the streets of Boston. The cold wind bites your skin while you struggle to remember the direction you came from.

“Hell, get a hold of yourself, Y/N,” you wipe your wet cheeks with your gloved hand, making things even worse as you feel the soft wool touch your skin. Now you remember the day he bought them for you, and your heart shatters all over again.

You’d like to take the gloves off and throw them away, but it’s too cold to do so. You’re already freezing, and it will be no use to lose a finger only as you can’t bear feeling the gloves on your hands.

“Miss, did you get lost,” you glance at the elder man flipping his cigarette onto the sidewalk. “It’s too damn cold to be outside tonight. You should go home.”

“Home,” nodding you look around the almost empty streets. “Can you tell me where I am? I need to get back to my hotel.”

“Oh! You’re not from around,” he gives you a sympathetic smile. “What’s the name of the hotel? I can tell you where to go if I know the name.”

“I’m usually not getting lost,” you laugh while rubbing your cold arms. “I just…you know…” wiping your eyes again you try to focus on anything but the burning pain in your chest. “I lost my phone too.”

“Love or business?” the man seems to see right through you. Maybe it’s like your granny used to say. You get wiser with every passing year. 

“A little bit of both…no,” shaking your head you try not to cry again. “Love. If it even was love.” You sniff now. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He made his decision and I need to get back to my hotel before I freeze to death.”

“I can call a cab for you, miss,” he gets his phone out. “Where do you want to go?”

“I-InterContinental Boston,” the wind is so cold that your teeth begin to chatter as you try not to cry again. “Is it far from here? I just ran and ended up here.” You point around the area. 

“Not that far. But it’s too far to walk. It’s dark and cold,” you watch the friendly elder man call a cab. All you can offer are twenty bucks and a broken smile as he hands you a cup of coffee. “It’s alright, miss. One day, the sun is shining for you again.”

“Probably not so soon. I just quit my job and left my hometown only to come here and realize he didn’t want me here. I got it all wrong,” you sip at the coffee. “Thank you for your help, Sir.”

The hot shower didn’t help getting the cold out of your bones. You’re still shaking while you hide under the covers. At least you booked the hotel for a few more nights.

He looked so shocked to see you. All this time he came to your town, pretending to offer more than passion and a few stolen moments while he was around.

How could you have been so blind and stupid all this time? Two years down the drain. More of your precious lifetime wasted on a man lying straight to your face.

It takes you three more days to leave Boston. You had hoped for him to come to you and explain the situation. That it wasn’t what it looked like, or that you got it all wrong.

Now you feel like an even bigger fool. 

All you can do is walk toward the exit of the hotel and pray you don’t run into the man breaking your heart for nothing. 

“Whoa watch your step, miss,” you mumble an apology as you almost ran a stranger over. He grips your arm to keep you from falling over his suitcase. “Hey, are you alright?” you glance up at the man, shaking your head as he gives you a soft smile. “Can I help you?”

“I don’t think anyone can help me,” blinking more tears away you try so hard not to cry in front of a stranger. That’s the last thing you need. Pity…

“Hey, you are shaking. Let me know if you need help,” he softly says as he guides you toward the couch at the lobby. He forgets about his suitcase and helps you sit down. “I know life can be hard. Just don’t give up.”

“You should care about your luggage, not some sad girl you just met,” now he huffs. “What? Are you a social worker or something?”

“Or something,” the man dips his head to look you up and down. “What’s a pretty girl like you crying about? Did something happen?”

“Nothing serious. Only a man breaking my heart for money,” you wipe your tired eyes. “He wanted me to move to Boston only for him to announce his engagement with some other girl. I think his grandfather wanted him to marry…and…I wasn’t good enough.”

“What a douchebag,” he sits next to you to pat your thigh. “What’s that bastard’s name?”

“You should go now, Sir. I’m fine, okay? Life goes on,” you shrug. “It’s not a big deal when a guy breaks a girl’s heart and ruins her life. I only quit my job and my apartment. I have to move out by the end of the month.”

“Shit,” the man huffs now. “What do you want to do now?”

“Sit and wait,” you laugh as he makes a face. “I got no clue. I don’t have a job any longer and can’t go back. My apartment is gone and there is no one I could turn to. My life just went to shit and the only person I can blame is myself.”

“I would blame the guy leading you on,” this time you look the man straight in the eyes. His features soften, and if not for the hopeless state you are in, you would call him breathtakingly handsome.

His blue eyes seem to shine whenever you look at him. “What are you doing, Nick? We don’t have time to flirt with cute girls,” another man steps toward the couch. He doesn’t seem to be the kind of man taking care of crying girls.  “We got to get going.”

“She needs help,” your savior gruffly replies. “Some bastard lead her on.” That picked the other man’s interest.

He’s as tall as Nick, and his hair is neatly gelled back, but there is a stray strand fighting his perfectionism. A thick beard frames his face. His features are hard, but his eyes soften as you choke out a sob.

“Angel, what happened?” he suddenly crouches down next to you to touch your knee. “Did anyone hurt you? Where did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”

“I told you; someone led her on, Andy,” Nick grumbles. “We need to help her.”

“I’m not some stray kitten,” you protest as the men start to talk about you as if you aren’t even there. “Hello! You can’t just decide to help me. I can fix my mess on my own.”

“Of course, you can,” Andy mumbles as he runs his hand over your thigh. “You just need a little help, don’t you?” his Boston accent is thick as he looks up at you with big blue eyes. “Right, angel. You want us to make everything better.”

“I-“ shit, it feels like he’s hypnotizing you with his gaze. While Andy coos soft words, Nick strokes your cheek, whispering sweet pet names in your ear. “Wait, I’m not going to go anywhere with two strangers.”

“Angel, you know us. That’s Nick, and I’m Andy,” you feel like a scolded child as Andy gets back up to straighten his back. He looks around the lobby, nodding at someone while you try to not freak out. “Nick, you will stay with our angel. I’ll make a few calls.”

“He can be a bit bossy, but you’ll get used to it,” Nick whispers in your ear, lips brushing your ear shell. “How about we get your luggage, and you tell me about your apartment.”

“I don’t even know you. What is going on here?” Andy sighs deeply as you start to get louder again.

“Angel, you need to calm down. This is-“

“You see, we need you to come with us. It seems you are of interest to Ransom Drysdale, grandson of Harlan Thrombey, one of the most dangerous men in whole Massachusetts,” Nick hastily cuts Andy off. “You need to trust me now. Okay.”

“Why would I?” fear creeps into your thoughts as two more men walk toward you. “What? How can they look like you? How-oh my…this is all too much…”

“Great,” Andy grunts at the other men. “You couldn’t make it faster? We had to do all the work.”

“She passed out,” Nick carefully picks you up in bridal style. “I guess this way it’s easier to take her, huh?” He grins down at your unconscious form. “How did Drysdale manage to get this cute *Pookie in his clutches?”

“Oh, we are already on pet name base?” Andy cocks his head to look at you in Nick’s arms. “Fine. Go and bring her to the car. We don’t want anyone to watch us kidnap Ransom Drysdale’s fiancé…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[jovialtorchlight]

Ballad of Johnny Kidd

My name is Johnny Kidd. I’m a bad, bad man. I’m cold, on the verge of death, stumbling through a fierce winter storm somewhere just North of Bangor, Maine, a bullet lodged in my thigh. I was following an old logging road out of the deep woods. I got lost, trailing spurts of blood like a breadcrumb trail. I see it; a tiny flicker of light through the lashing white snow. The cabin. I pound on the door. 

“Mister! Please, it’s so cold out here! Please, let me in! I’ll…I’ll freeze to death!”

An old man unlatches the door; I practically fall into the cabin, legs giving out, trembling. He’s walking towards the fire, doesn’t offer to help me up. Doesn’t even look at me. I think shit, I’m bleeding all over his floor, but the bleeding has stopped. 

“Strip to your birthday suit, right there in the mudroom. Hang it up. It’ll dry.  Don’t be bashful, kid. I won’t peek. Got a pair of long johns hanging on the coat rack. Once you put them on, grab the folded blanket, wrap yourself in it tight,” he says. 

I follow his directions. 

“You’re a real kind person, mister. Thank you,” I said, ambling towards a chair by the fire. 

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. Just don’t want to see anyone else freeze to death on this mountain path. Hard times claim enough good folk around these parts. Don’t need to lose anyone else,” he said, staring into the crackling flames. 

            Goodness has nothing to do with it, I think. I’m naked under the blanket, ‘cept for a sawnoff shotgun strapped to my back. 

“I really owe you my life, sir. I can already feel my bones warming. Blood thawing out.” 

“Any frostbite?” the old man asks. I looked down. I was already toasty. Fingers and toes looked fine. 

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Good, good. Sit. Warm yourself by the fire. Don’t have a bed in this shack, but you can sleep in the chair. Hopefully the storm will be finished by morning.”

I linger, not sitting. I’m scoping out the cabin, ready to pull the loaded gun from my back and spatter this oltimer’s brains on the wall. He doesn’t have much. It’s a bare wood cabin with cedar planks and a woodstove with rusted pots and castiron pants.

“I do appreciate it, sir. Truly. It’s a whitewash out there. Any longer, the snow would have swallowed me completely. My company wouldn’t have found me until the spring thaw.”

The old man doesn’t break eyecontact with the fire. He chuckles. 

“Company. You mean your gang of bank robbers?”

My hand moves to the gun. I’m about ready to end this foolishness.

“Sir, what do you mean?  I work cutting trees.”

The old man’s voice drips with contempt. 

“No you don’t. You’re a much better shot than you are a liar. You’re Johnny Kidd.”

I drop the blanket, naked. I draw the gun from my back. The Old Man doesn’t flinch. 

“Damn. Nothin’ gets past you, old man. Move and this room gets a new coat of paint. Say, you haven’t even looked at me yet. Am I that famous? You can tell who I am just from my voice?”

“I know you, Kidd.” the old man says.

“I guess so. Have we met?”

“I’ve seen the newspaper clippings. A sheriff came by the cabin a few days ago, said your gang might be around. Wanted by the federal government, and every bumbling, whiskey drunk county sheriff this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Look. I know you got a shotgun pointed at my cranium, to your back, and I know you’ve been thinking about shooting me in the head since you first came into this cabin. But I ain’t no lawman, and I ain’t trying to collect the bounty on you…even if I could finally retire down to Rio with your blood money,” the old man says, a soliquiy into the fire.

My hand lingers over the trigger. But instead, I speak. 

“Huh. Well, you marked me pretty good, oldtimer. Most people start cowering, throwing their watches and jewlery at me  when they figure out who I am.”

For the first time, the old man turns to face me. He’s normal, saggy skin and a long gray beard.  

“Kidd, when you first came in here, you said I was a kind person. I ain’t kind.  I could plead, sure. I could beg, say I just saved your life. But that don’t matter. You’re not the type of person that responds well to kindness, are you?”

Ha. Kindness, I think.  Fuck kindness. 

“No, I reckon not. I ain’t apt to “kind” my way out of a shootout.  Kindness ain’t ever done nothing for me. Pops was kind before he was fileted in his sleep by a drunkard he let stay in the hayloft.”

“That’s why I’m here. You ain’t gonna respond to charity, kindness, or the yolk of human compassion, are you, kid?”

His tone drops into a command. 

“Look into the fire.”

I try to pull the trigger, but my finger locks. I start to move towards the fire, like I’m being pulled like a boxcar on a railine. I try to fight the movement, but I can’t. I bend down and gaze into the dancing flame. 

“What do you see?,” the old man asks. 

“Jesus, what kind of witchcraft is--”

“Answer me. What do you see?”

I saw her. The boys and I had the bank on Main Street locked down, about to grab the bags of cash, jump in and speed away to hit the next town. She came out of the washroom, unaware we had the place held down. I shot her through the neck. She choked on her blood. I meant to shoot the wall to scare the clerk into opening the vault…the bullet ricoheted..I didn’t mean to shoot her.

“I see her. Jesus, shot her through the neck. I swear to God, I didn’t mean to--”

“Course not. Is that what you tell yourself when you’re alone at night? Is her throat, ripped open, the image burned in your eyelids?” 

I collapse on the floor, holding my face in my hands. The old man stands up from his rocker for the first time. 

“I’m almost sorry for you, kid. There ain’t any other way to set you straight but raw power, right? A kind sheep is still a sheep, and you’re a wolf, right, kid? You’re a predator, ain’t you? You sink your fangs and take whatever you want from those poor fieldmice cowering in fear, right?”

“Shut up,” I sputter. I gather myself, uncrumple from the floor, stagger to my feet. 

“You’re talking real funny, sir, and I implore you to stop--”

The old man laughs, spittle flying. 

“You ain’t gonna implore me to do nothing, kid.  Like I said,  I ain’t kind. But I’m just.”

He sits down. 

I draw the gun, aim it at his temple. 

“Ha. Just. You mean, you’re an agent of justice? What are you gunna do, old man? Tie me up and take me down to the jail? Kill me? I got a gun pointed at you, but I got a sawblade in my satchel... I’m gunna have some real fun with you.”

Old man sinks back into his rocker. 

“I ain’t going to cower, kid. I’m gunna show you something. Sit. Down.”

Despite everything in my body, I sit. 

“Watch the fire.” 

Depsite every voice echoing in my mind, I gaze again into the fire. 

“A dozen lawmen are tracking you. Been following you since you killed her.  In fact, they’re closing in on your camp now. Budd’s just got pumped with lead. Big Frank’s brain is oozing out. They’re following the tracks. They’re gunna find you, kid. Rather, they’re gunna find your frozen body next to your dead horse.”

I feel the pain of freezing to death; like someone stuck my body into a pit of ice blue flame. 

“Oh my god.” All I can manage. A whimper. 

“God ain’t got nothing to do with it,”  the old man says. “Savor it. Not a lot of men get to see how they die, Johnny.  But it doesn’t have to happen like that. You got a way out, kid.”

I don’t belive him. Ain’t no way out, I’m an cornered cat and he’s a rabid dog.  

“Instead of killing me, get up, take my seat by the fire. You’ll be waiting for a while. For as long as I have. Till some other poor fool gets lost in the storm. You help them, you help them thaw out, you send them away. Keep waiting by the fire. Or, you kill me. Outside these walls, it’s just ice. Ice, snow, and death,” he says.  

“I’m dead either way, ain’t I? I’m dead right now, ain’t I?” The question flashes like an explosion. “Am I dead? Am I dead?”

The old man shakes his head.

“I can’t answer that for you. You got to make a choice, now. Before the fire dies. We’ve been in here for a good bit of time already.”

I look at him squarely. He’s not reacting. Just a dirty, saggy, weathered old face. My fists clench. I want to kill him. But I let the wave of hate roll over me, and I’m left with whatever is left in the wreckage. The old man gestures for me to pass. I sit in his rocker. I look at the flames, for a few moments, an hour, a day, a year. I don’t know. I don’t care to know. The old man is gone. 

It’s cold. Someone is pounding on the door. 

“It’s freezing out here,” someone calls from outside. “You gotta help me, Mister!”

I don’t look up. 

“Come in. Door’s unlocked. Mind you don’t track in too much snow.”

[vibratingskull]

Hi can you please have Eli Vanto female x reader but it be a nsfw. Been obsessed about Eli thanks 😭🫣" - anon

Here comes the sunny boy 🌞

ElixF!reader

tags : fingering, unprotected p in v

You sigh in contentment.

Eli’s hands feel so good on your skin, he expertly unknot any bundle of nerves he can find in your shoulders and back. You sigh again.

“You have the hands of a fairy.” You say in a breath.

“Thank you.” He chuckles.

You feel him press on a precise point in your left shoulder blade. You moan, that’s the spot, right there…

“Ah yes… This feels so good…” You let out.

You’re so relaxed you could fall asleep right there and there. His hands slide across your skin, caressing your shoulders and flank with delicacy. 

What pleasure.

At one point, he becomes more adventurous and you feel him passing his fingers under your bra’s band and sliding his hands under your body to grasp your breast. You gasp at the sensation of his warm hands against your tits.

You turn towards him with a sly smile.

“How dare, Sir?”

“I could not resist, madam.”

He leans towards you to kiss your lips, you invite him gleefully while he kneads your breast. You hold his chin with between two fingers, guiding his face, kissing those pretty plump lips. You bite down his lower lips with a low growl. You finish turning on your side to properly hug him, he embraces you with all his might, kissing you with vigor, robbing you of your air. You part, both panting, the eyes heavy with desire, you hook your braces and let them slide across your shoulders, revealing him your bare breast.

“Eat them, and don’t leave a crumb.” You coo, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collar bone and finally your breast. He laps your buds like a thirsty man, taking them in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the tender flesh. You throw your head backward, it’s been so long since you felt your fiance’s touch on your burning body, finally you do not have to quench your thirst alone anymore. He pinches your second tit and you yelp in pain and pleasure. His hands snake their way from your shoulder to your waist, slipping under the fabric of your bikini and grabbing your butt. 

You take a fistful of his hair and yank his head backward, he groans but let you do, you lick the tip of his nose, giggling.

“Make me scream like our first times, dear.”

“Anything for you, love.” He answers with his accent that sounds like a chant to you.

He hooks your panties and slides them on your leg to gain access to your core. He scoops your sex, trailing it down with a single finger. It makes your whole body shudder. He gently pushes his finger inside, earning a gasp on your part. He quickly finds your sweet spot and grazes it, making your toes curl.

“Hmmmmmm. You’re already wet.” He hums with satisfaction.

“Always for you, Eli.” You pant.

He kisses you again, muffling all your moans. He inserts a second finger to stretch you properly. You purr in his mouth, you can feel your muscles tightening and your waters dripping on his hand and your thighs. You feel waves roaring coming for you, galoping like furious horses. It comes speeding towards you and you whine and groan obscenely, exacerbating your desire and his. He speeds up his motion at your chants, and the waves crashes upon you, blinding you. He releases your mouth at this moment to hear you. 

And you did not disappoint.

Screaming his name, head thrown back backward, exposing your sensible neck and your sweet spot, he can’t resist kissing it and nibbling it. You lay your bust on the mattress, catching your breath. He takes out your panties entirely and places himself between your legs. You spread them further with a mewl. He opens his pants and takes out his erection, giving it a few strokes. You growls. You would like to kiss it and take it in your mouth, it will be for another time. He aligns himself with you and gently pushes inside, you feel yourself stretch so deliciously and the sensation of being full electrifies you. He grasps your waist and starts his motion forward and backward, quickly finding a rapid pace of unmerciful hips thrusts. You whine and moan and groan. You dig your nails in the skin of his back, praying to the maker that your release comes quickly. 

Suddenly he slides out of you, flips you over and reenter brutally. You gasp. He forces your ass up in the air and slaps it with a low chuckle. Your toes curl and you bite down the pillow so hard you could break your teeth. He grabs and kneads your ass and waist, scratching your lower back. You can't refrain from moaning, the sound of the flesh clapping is so obscene and indecent and so exciting. 

“Don’t stop… I’m so close. Keep going!”

The waves roar again, spreading through your veins like a tantalizing poison, digging your nails in the fabric and almost tearing it apart with your teeth.

Then

It comes crashing down upon you.

Furiously, gloriously.

You cry his name.

“Eli!”

All your body is shaken before coming to a halt, freezed. All your muscles contract, your inner walls tighten around his length, pushing him over the edge. His thrusts become erratic and sloppy until he stops completely and finishes inside of you. Your cunt milks him dry as you both slowly come down, he collapses on top of you with a huff. It makes you laugh. You extend your hand and caress his hair, you kiss his cheek as he takes back his breath.

“Thank you, my love.” You say in one breath.

He takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

“It was really good.” He pants.

“Yes…”

He slides out of you and rolls on the side on his back. You hug him.

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?”

He caresses your hair and embraces you.

“Nowhere far, my love. Do not worry.”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay