#gunnrblze writes

[gunnrblze]

Hesh and Elias-a loving father-son duo-except what if Hesh was angry at his father for so so so many things instead.

Perhaps it’s a little selfish, he thinks, or perhaps it’s long overdue for Hesh to bring up his father’s parenting methods.

To say he cares about and loves Logan is an understatement, that’s not to be questioned, but why he was gifted the daunting task of looking after his little brother for the majority of his life, when he himself was trying to grow up makes him angry.

He has so much anger and he struggles to pinpoint its origin. Maybe he was born with his fists shaking and nostrils flared.

He snaps at Elias one day on base after the man gets stern with him. Maybe after Logan gets hurt on a mission or somethings fucked over their plans to find Rorke. Hesh seethes because he tried. He tried and he continues to try and help Logan whenever possible. They’re a pair, a duo, brothers.

But Hesh isn’t a god, as much as he sometimes wishes he could be. He can only do so much, he can only reach so far. Why does it never feel good enough? Why does he feel a gnawing sense of guilt when Logan gets hurt, as if the kid didn’t sign up for the job right alongside him? He might as well have hurt his brother himself with the way he feels to blame.

He accuses Elias, of favoritism. Of something just short of neglecting Hesh emotionally growing up. He remembers it all too well.

Logan cried, he was soothed. Logan got in trouble, he was given a talking to and nothing more. Logan was acting out after mom died and Elias had so much grace for him, but Hesh wasn’t allowed to be a brat when life got hard.

He had to be a good older brother, a good son who kept himself and his little duckling in line because Elias was gone far too much to do it himself.

Elias is a little startled. Not by his son’s irritation, the pain he could see in his eyes, no. He’d unfortunately had to see it before, had to try and sleep at night knowing he couldn’t take it all away from him. Did he make the right decision persuading his boys to join the army in the first place? The thought made him sick sometimes.

No, he’s startled by the accusations. That he favored Logan, that he ignored Hesh’s feelings after he got to a certain age. He couldn’t deny that he wasn’t present at home sometimes, but he wanted to find an excuse. Wanted to crawl out of the hole he’d dug his family into, whether he had much choice or not.

Like birds of a feather, Elias was getting irritated at his son now. Their mirroring emotions made Hesh do a double take, as if he saw his very future in front of him now. Clear as day.

Elias was defensive, like most in his position usually were. He couldn’t understand where it was coming from. Why Hesh seemed to be so upset all a sudden. As if overnight his eldest son decided to get mad. As if the last couple decades didn’t have any impact.

Hesh could feel the heat scorch his cheeks, teeth grinding and threatening to be crushed under the force of his clenched jaw. He’d always had to hold it together. He was tired of holding himself together. Tired of feeling like an observer in his own family rather than an active participant.

Exhausted, after having been molded into a soldier by the Lieutenant in front of him, long before he ever enlisted.

Elias wasn’t sure he’d ever seen David behave like this. Yelling until his voice went hoarse, spitting accusations and what he couldn’t believe were insults in his face. His son, unraveling before him.

He let it happen.

Elias Walker wasn’t a passive man but he stood there and let his son scream at him. Not like the petulant child he used to be, no. Like the man he is.

The room was silent after Hesh finished, save for his heavy breathing and whatever sound he was making whilst trying to hold back a sniffle. He wouldn’t dare let the tears in his eyes fall, afraid his dignity would dissolve with it.

Hesh’s head felt foggy. Clouded by rage, upset, and something that felt similar to grief. That feeling he could never identify, searing a hole through his heart and not bothering to patch itself back up.

He looked his father in the eyes. Really looked at the man in front of him. Confused by his silence. For once, the image was unrecognizable. It felt foreign, as if he were shielded behind a pane of glass.

Time felt frozen, until Logan swung the door open. He too, stilled. As if no one knew what to do, Logan could tell by the red of his brother’s cheek and the set of his father’s jaw, that there probably wasn’t anything to do.

Hesh stared down his little brother though, eyes practically begging him to say something in his defense. To open his fucking mouth for once and speak.

His father merely dismissing them both made his gut sink. Knowing all too well, that this hadn’t solved it. If anything, it’d only drive the little wedge further between them.

David swore he could feel it splintering his skin as he walked away, not bothering to even look at his younger brother at the moment.

Too afraid he’d start resenting him, too.

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Legacy - Prologue

Summary: With the disappearance of Logan and with Rorke still out there, the Ghosts soon find themselves back at war with the Federation. Amidst the chaos and death, Beth and Hesh will soon find their relationship put into question when an unexpected surprise finds its way into their lives...and whether or not they will live to see the end of this conflict.

[A Post Call of Duty: Ghosts fanfiction; David "Hesh" Walker/OC]

TRIGGER WARNING(s): Canon-Typical Violence, spoilers for the Ghosts campaign, Unplanned Pregnancy, Alcoholism/Drug use, Psychological Torture/Brainwashing, Rorke is a whole ass trigger warning, PTSD *more to be added for future chapters*

TAGLIST: @thatonesillyducko , @gunnrblze , @deeptrashwitch , @piouswolf , (more to be added)

A/N: this was a long time coming, and due to the lack of Ghosts 2 being released by Activision, I decided to write it myself...to the best of my ability; dedicated to my darling @thatonesillyducko because this fic would not have made it off the ground if it wasn't for you. All the best loves to you.

The moment her boots hit the ground, she ran.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and blood roared in her ears as she felt the sand at her feet.

I have to hurry, what if…

And she stopped.

Her heart sank.

Hesh’s eyes met hers, and she saw the raw anguish in his gaze. He was laying in the sand, hand pressed tightly to his abdomen as blood trickled from between his fingers, staining the ground red beneath him.

For a moment, Beth stood frozen. Her heart skipped a beat as she and Hesh made eye contact; shock in her eyes, pain in his.

She snapped out of it, and rushed over to him.

“Hesh!”

She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to touch him; to let him know he would be okay and he was not alone.

“I’m here.” Her voice wobbled, and she would have kicked herself for sounding so weak in that moment, but sitting there and seeing Hesh bleed out broke something in her.

“I’m here,” she repeated, gently pulling his hand back to get a good look at his wound. “Everything’s going to be fine—”

“He took him…”

Hesh’s voice abruptly cut her off, and she stared at him.

“Who took him?” She questioned, feeling her heart pound in her chest.

“Rorke,” Hesh responded. He sounded so weak, so tired and defeated. His voice was raspy as if he had screamed for hours, and barely had the strength to keep going. “He…he took Logan, Beth. Fucking damn it, he took Logan!”

Beth’s heart sank, and guilt immediately washed over her once she realized Logan had not been there when she found Hesh.

Her eyes drifted a few feet away, and she saw the drag marks in the sand, dried blood scattered about with no doubt there having been a struggle.

Oh, oh no. Oh God, no…

“I couldn’t…” Hesh’s voice shook as he continued to speak, rambling almost akin to a madman. “I couldn’t save him. I just laid there and watched. I just fucking watched as he took Logan away, like some useless piece of trash. What…” His voice cracked, and his eyes began to glisten.

“What kind of brother am I?”

He crumpled against her, face pressed into her side as his body began to shake with sobs.

In that moment, Beth did not know what to do, feeling helpless as he did.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around him, and she pulled him closer, although careful of his wound.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, David…”

[deeptrashwitch]

A Haunting Past (Part 16)

Here we go with another chapter! As usual, shout out and a thousand thanks to @islandtarochips for being my beta reader 💖💖

Enjoy the chapter!

Taglist (just to show :3): @alypink @snootlestheangel @islandtarochips @raresvtm

@cynicvice @midnight193 @mutantthedark @justasmolbard @welldonekhushi

@tapioca-milktea1978 @imagoddamnonionmason @stargazing-sapphire2 @milkteaarttime @blacktacmopsi

@maymaylyn @thatonesillyducko @seraphiixiao @me-is-confused @gunnrblze

Tw: Panic attack

Days passed and Alicia just waited for Wraith to figure out who the number belonged to. It was something that never completely left her mind. To the point she started to write some of the plans she had in her notebook.

That just made her wonder once again. Who? It didn't make any sense, she couldn't really think of someone that would betray them that way. And even then, why stay in the Marine Corps afterwards?

It was stressing her out very badly.

And now, night after night, she woke up covered in a cold sweat and running to the bathroom to puke. All that was happening made her memories even worse. The nightmares were so recurrente that even the others were noticing her eye bags. Even Jackson tried to convince her to take another time off, even try using sleeping pills.

If only he knew…

She has been taking pills since a long time ago but they didn't work. Never completely. And less now.

“Ugh…I need to end this soon so I can sleep.” She murmured to herself one day when blood started to drop from her nose while she did paperwork.

After a couple of days, she just tried to focus on her work. By the afternoon, she went for a glass of water while she was already prepared for another restless night. That is until Wraith walked inside.

“Do you have the information?” Alicia asked without looking at her fellow comrade.

Wraith stayed in silence for a second, almost like she was doubting. “I do.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

Alicia turned around, just to see how Wraith from all people looked at her with sadness and pity. She raised an eyebrow but waited for her to speak. Soon Dominique sighed and spoke, trying to avoid any eye contact for the first time since they met.

“The numbers…it belongs to a Raider.” Wraith started to say.

“Okay, we knew that much.”

“The thing is about who that Raider is.”

“Who is it? Someone from the Sixth? Maybe another black operations team?”

“I'm sorry Alicia.”

Alicia frowned. “Why are you apologizing? It starts to worry me.”

Wraith just gave her the folder with the traitor’s identity. When Alicia opened it, the first thing that she saw…was a well known face. One that she saw not so long ago.

Oliver.

Fucking Oliver Reyes.

“You’re joking...” She whispered, trying not to throw the folder to her face. “You’re joking!”

“I wish I was, but I confirmed…”

“It can’t be! He was one of us!”

“Alicia, breathe. Please.”

But Alicia wasn't hearing her anymore. She just felt how everything was destroyed and disappeared around her, all the plans she made. Everything that she had created to make sure her team was SAFE and getting the job DONE. But everything went sideways BECAUSE of that one person who she trusted the most.

Not long after, Alicia was starting to have trouble breathing while she kept asking in her mind for the reason.

At some point her legs gave up as she fell to the ground. She couldn't hear anything other than a buzzing in her ears. In just a second the world was moving so fast that she felt like it stopped for a second.

Alicia couldn't believe it.

She never thought about the possibility of Oliver being the traitor. But now she learns that he sold them. He gave them to hell on earth.

“He was one of us…” She whispered, crying uncontrollably.

She could see how the boys barged into the kitchen and how Luke argued with Wraith, but it was surreal. Almost like she was in her body but at the same time she wasn't. There was no other sound than the buzzing. And suddenly, she felt like she started to laugh.

Alicia passed a hand through her hair while she laughed and cried. Completely desperate. Unknowingly to her, she looked like she had lost her mind. Then she covered her face with the same hand, still crying.

She couldn't believe it. For a second she wished it was just a nightmare.

William. Richard. Kate. Jason. Sean. Arthur. Leo.

All of them were dead because of Oliver.

She went through hell because of him.

And yet, she couldn't understand why. Oliver was like them. He was part of the 267 too, they trained, fought and survived together.

Why? WHY?!?

While she felt a pressure over her chest and her vision started to darken, her mind just repeated a single thing. It was his fault. All of it, all of the pain, the nightmares, the blood shed. It was him.

At some point she swore she saw Jackson kneel beside her, with a worried expression. But she couldn't be sure, because something snapped inside her and she fell unconscious.

Hours later she woke up with a groan, feeling her body weight a ton. To her surprise, Jackson was sitting behind his desk simply doing his paperwork while Luke napped near him. It was the first time she ever saw them so…peaceful around each other.

“...Why aren't you killing each other?” She asked, trying to feign a smile while straightening up.

Jackson stood up and stopped her from moving. “Don't.”

“Jackson-”

“No, Origin. This time DON’T.” He said seriously. “You had to be sedated.”

“What?”

“You had a full blown panic attack. It was so bad I had to sedate you to stop you from hurting yourself.”

Alicia sighed tiredly before laying her head back down. “Damn it.”

“I haven't seen this since we met and even then it wasn't this bad.” Jackson said, now looking at her with worriedness. “Are you really okay?”

“... I'll be.”

Jackson sighed and shook his head. “I don't believe that. This time I can see how much it’s affecting you.”

Alicia just raised an eyebrow before looking at her hand. She saw an IV connected to her arm. After that, she looked at Jackson again.

“So now what? I assume Wraith told you why I had a panic attack.”

“She did. And we spoke with all the team-”

Luke looked at her, already awake. “We’ll help you to find Reyes, no matter the time it takes, but under one condition.”

“Shoot.”

“You go with us. Not on your own.”

Alicia was completely in silence after hearing Luke’s request. Before she could even answer, Wraith had walked in. There was no need for another word before Alicia raised her hands.

“I know what you will say.” Alicia said with a sigh.

“You won't be in this.” Wraith ordered coldly. “This time the CIA ordered it, it's above you and me.”

“What?! But Alicia's the one-!” Luke tried to intervene, just to be interrupted by Alicia's hand.

“It’s fine, still, thanks for offering to help me, guys.” Alicia said before looking at Wraith. “Who takes it?”

Wraith shook her head. “I can't disclose it, but they know your clash of interests.”

“Do they think I’ll do something stupid on duty?”

“Most likely.”

Alicia looked at her jacket, that was over a chair, before moving to take it. In silence she looked for something and stripped it. She gave it to Wraith, who raised an eyebrow when she saw Alicia’s captaincy badge.

“Alicia-”

“I have too much to lose to risk it like that.” Alicia said, surprisingly calm.”Here, keep it until this is ended, I won't be the Captain for now.”

Wraith grabbed it with a frown. “I expected you to be furious.”

“I am, but I won't risk my people.”

“Right…”

Alicia looked at her tiredly. “I'll be on leave, call me when you find him. I need to speak with him.”

Wraith doubted for a second, but then she nodded with a look of pity. “Where will you go? To Las Almas?”

“...No, I need time alone.”

Wraith nodded and soon she took Luke along to ask him to fill her role in the meantime. All while Jackson looked at Alicia in silence, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m actually surprised by your reaction.I thought you’d go full psycho hunting Reyes.”

“Nah…you know I can’t.”

Jackson sighed and nodded. “Guess you’re right. Anyway, call me if you feel sick, okay? For now, I’ll go see what I have to do. Now that Luke is the leader temporarily.”

“Good luck, kid.”

“Mhmm.”

The medic walked out of the medic bay while Alicia kept the calm expression, until he disappeared from her sight. For a second she stayed like that, then her expression changed to a deep angered scowl and clenched her hands until her knuckles became white.Still without saying a word, she grabbed a second phone hidden in her jacket to message someone.

[We need to talk. Soon.]

[gunnrblze]

[insert Ghost man] who is so devoted to you, so intensely zealous, that you get to watch in real time, a soldier bend to your will.

He’s not necessarily religious, however, he could make a religion out of you. The man would worship you, lie at your feet, build an altar in your honor and keep it blessed with offerings if you’d only let him. To whisper a prayer with your name on his lips would be of the highest honor.

He will not readily preach of you, though. You are too sublime for this. The opportunity for others to taint your image once they learn of your beauty, is not something he will allow.

Your regard, your attention, your praise, gets him through his days. However much you indulge him…whether you allow his head to lie in your lap, raking your nails soft and gently across his scalp.

Or if you don’t even so much as look in his direction. He feels fortunate to even be in your presence whenever you’re near. It feels holy, and that’s all he can ask for. Something, anything to believe in. He is content with believing in you, whether or not you even note his mere existence that day.

And when you aren’t there, he doesn’t go without feeling you either. Like you really are anointed by some higher power, he feels your presence wherever he goes. As if you exist through the fabric of time, your energy cultivated all around him. Sanctifying everything you touch. Following him and swallowing his soul whole, flesh and bones consumed.

An angel, he assumes. That’s the only explanation for someone as divine and otherworldly as you. It doesn’t matter who you are, the kind of person you choose to be-he finds you magical-utterly resplendent.

The most refined portrait there ever was.

You could be the devil in disguise, he wouldn’t know any better. Nor would he care. Blinded by your light, he’ll happily let it sear through his corneas before he ever suggests you less than perfect.

If he could give you every last dying wish you had, he would sail the seven seas and wade through whatever murky waters necessary to do so. He’d spin the earth upside down on its axis if he were able, bend physics to your will.

You just have to ask, beloved.

Your most devoted follower, your only follower, teary eyes begging you to look at him, to acknowledge his existence. It is pitiful and it is exactly what he needs. To beg, to grovel, to work for it. For you. Your ethereal existence.

After all, nothing that blessed is easy to obtain.

[gunnrblze]

Thinking about how all the other Ghosts reacted to and coped with the insanity of sand viper, especially with Captain Gabriel “I’m actually fine, thanks” Rorke, who’s XP apparently only doubled upon experiencing the trauma.

I imagine they all had various degrees of post traumatic stress from the event, specifically Keegan, Ajax, and Merrick, who were all under the age of 20 at the time (I stillll cannot believe that’s realistic in any way, but canon age is canon age lmfao). But I wonder just how much they were all affected and how it all played out.

An almost 30 year old Lieutenant Walker, around the age we see Hesh in the game, who had two little boys (and maybe a wife still) at home. Do you think he thought about them after he fought for the civilians in that hospital? How did he feel being second in command during such an unprecedented, transformative event not only for his career, but for the world, really. Who wouldn’t idolize Rorke to the highest degree after leading such a team to victory?

How did a 19 year old navy seal Merrick cope with what was probably one of the first more major combat missions of his career? He’d only been a seal for two years up until this point. Did he imagine his father and grandfather, if they’d be proud of him for getting through unscathed? Both men were killed in their own military careers, but Merrick made it through, with this new team. He wasn’t even old enough to buy a drink yet, but he could help take on 500 enemy soldiers.

Keegan and Ajax were 16 and 17, literal children, who couldn’t have had any fucking clue what they were really doing. Until they did. They had to. Did they ever imagine themselves in a classroom instead? Hanging out with their friends instead of hiding under their deceased bloodied bodies in the desert sand? Did anybody ever tell them they deserved that life instead of this one?

If we knew more of Kick, Neptune, Torch and Grim, more could be said of how they might’ve handled it. But how does one really handle fighting until their gun runs out of ammo, until their knife blade dulls against enemy skin, until they’re left to fight with just their bare hands? How do you look at yourself in the mirror after becoming part of a force “so menacing and unbeatable, it can only be described as supernatural” over the course of just three days?

So how, pray tell, do you cope when your Captain only acts more level headed after the matter? All of the remaining soldiers were put under psychological evaluation, and Rorke went unaffected by it all.

How did they feel watching Rorke slip through the cracks and come out the other side more calm? Three days and nights of hell, and their commanding officer just goes “well…anyways” I’d personally go even more insane from that alone I think.

And additionally, what carbon fiber steel nervous system does Rorke have anyways? To not be outrightly traumatized by such an event in the first place is one thing, but to become better because of it? Sharper and clearer and focused, while his comrades were no doubt riddled with anxiety and nightmares at the least? It’s giving robot!

[gunnrblze]

Keep thinking about unhinged Walker boys. Not even after Rorke took Logan, just in general.

Like, their late teen years were very tumultuous because of ODIN/joining the army, they are 26 and 28 during the game, they’re still YOUNG.

Mid-late 20s and they’re fighting an intense war for their country, fighting on their father’s behalf, fighting a grudge from HIS past, etc. I absolutely believe, aside from their training keeping them in line (and the other Ghosts), that they’d understandably be a little manic at times.

I think you can mostly see it in the way Hesh acts sometimes in the game. Not to say he didn’t have every reason to lol, but he did act bratty and defiant at multiple points, and I think that’d be multiplied in a way we didn’t even see.

Before Elias died, he knew exactly how to keep them in line, being their father and all, but after he was gone, I see the rest of the Ghosts (especially new Captain Merrick) having to reign them in more than anticipated. With Elias being dead and Rorke still being a flaming cunt, they would struggle even more.

Keegan, Kick, hell even Neptune would have to participate in Operation: Keep The Boys Sanity Intact, because they certainly don’t have the mental bandwidth to do it themselves all the time (their brains are very FRESHLY fully developed…)

And I love that in game, Hesh has a specific monologue after Elias dies where he’s all calmly and solemnly stating that they’ll take over for their dad, finish the mission, etc. And yes they are grown ass men, been through a fuck ton of training…but let’s be so for real lmfao, that’s a lot to have on your plate for two dudes that are hardly cresting 30 years old.

I just think, aside from the few moments we see in game where they (Hesh lol) are loosing their shit a little, it’d be much more chaotic on a personal level than was shown.

I wrote something about the mentor/mentee dynamic I think Merrick would have with Hesh AFTER Logan’s taken, but I like to think he’d literally have double on his plate before Rorke snatched the baby off the beach.

I just like looking at both sides of the same coin. They grew up too fast, they’re no doubt traumatized, have been through extensive military training, and all the personal experience we see them gain….that definitely sobered them up real quick and knocked their maturity levels up several pegs.

But at the same time, I just don’t believe they’d always be that put together in the ways that we see, especially not compared to the more experienced elder Ghosts. Perhaps a sort of “we’re mature but you guys are seasoned” type of vibe.

And despite the only real description of Logan’s personality being that he’s a quiet, cold blooded killer, and an excellent soldier…bro is quite literally 26 years old and in the damn trenches, you can’t tell me he wasn’t routinely being a brat when he was able to be lol (babies of the family lock in!).

Even more interesting on Logan’s part, who would really be keeping him in line primarily when he acts up, pre or post Elias death…? Davey poo I’m afraid. And I think Hesh would get to a point where the weight of it all, plus keeping Logan in line and on the general right life path would have him tweaking.

Imagine having all that on top of you, then your dad dies, and your only surviving family is your clingy little brother…lmfao. Of course Logan is more than capable on his own as we can see in the game, but, and it’s been said before and will continue to be said, Hesh was parentified to the max. And it only becomes more clear when you read between the lines.

I just think in similar, but also their own separate ways, they’d be a little off their rocker sometimes. I like to imagine Keegan having the common fanon agreed bond with Logan, and helping him keep his eye on the prize, and I feel like Hesh would attach himself to Merrick (even older male authority figure, he lives and breathes the slivers of validation he’d get…)

And then there’s Kick…lol. In an unforeseen way, I imagine him being like a sort of glue in this scenario honestly. We don’t get much info on him, he’s hardly even in the damn game very much, but I think of him as being oddly very wise (not too far off since he’s not younger like the Walkers, but he’s probably not a whole lot older than Keegan/Ajax either) despite his nervous system being just as shot from fighting a war. He’d be like the cousin with some randomly sage advice for Hesh and Logan.

TLDR; the Walker brothers are frazzled, they need an Ativan, therapy, and a long winters nap

[gunnrblze]

What are friends for?

Here to bring you my poorly written, monthly ovulation freak/fluff writing. Enjoy whatever tf this is about Kick, Mr. Amber Eyes himself. Got away from myself and wrote MUCH more than intended lol (6400+ help me. lost the plot fr). MDNI, 18+

CW: period sex. it’s a little gross🥰. fluff and cuteness and the like

. . ・ 。 . ・ ゜ ✭ ・ ☽ ・ ✫ ・ ゜ ・ 。 . .

Stripping off your uniform, you felt icky from the days sweat and grime tacking your skin, the added sensation of a constant stream of blood trickling from between your legs never helped matters.

The shower steam eased your overused muscles as you scrubbed your body clean, deciding to go the extra mile and exfoliate because you’d be damned if you got into bed and still felt gross and sticky after the day you’ve had. Your scalp tingled sorely from having your hair tied back, and massaging it didn’t help much either.

To top it all off, your poor pussy fluttered everytime your fingers even broached the subject. Washing your inner thighs felt oddly agonizing, and washing your tender lips was a different matter. This was definitely not something they taught in torture resistance training, your melodramatic, hormonal thoughts couldn’t help but supply.

You ached. You typically didn’t even feel in the mood to touch or be touched on your period, but you swore you could feel the way your clit twitched as the shower water poured over your body. Why’d it feel so wrong, though? You watched your blood swirl with the shower water on the tile below, it’s all natural.

But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to do anything about it. You dried off, lotioned your damp skin, and pulled on your favorite military issue t-shirt. The ache in your lower belly was only partially relived by the painkillers you downed for the third time again today. The ache further south wasn’t perturbed by them, though. You couldn’t tell where the cramp ended and the needy ache of arousal started.

Despite feeling the need to retire early into the evening, your springy little bed looking more and more inviting the longer you stood upright, you forgot the godforsaken paper work that needed to be filled out and returned to your superior asap.

You sat your, literally sore, ass down on your desk chair, filling the papers out. You trudged through the hallways and toward Merricks office. You tried to be neutral and professional when he uncharacteristically yapped about the latest mission while you stood across from his desk.

You did a lot of things. You ignored the pain, the soreness, the need. Your hormones raged so much that you even had a sideways thought about your boss himself for a moment. Bald isn’t a bad look…

You almost visibly shook your head to remove the blooming thoughts from your skull, bouncing around like an untethered paddle ball. Get it together, that’s a little insane, even for you…your brain reasoned with itself for once.

What you almost couldn’t stand, was when Kick entered into Merricks office at the same time, prolonging the already dull conversation that had you cursing your choice of career.

Except he made it a bit more bearable. It’d be over soon, but you honest to god, did have more important things to attend to. The flaming heat licking up the walls of your core, for starters. Maybe you should’ve rubbed one out in the shower while you had a chance to be clean.

Kick wasn’t wearing his mask, so that square set jaw and dusting of stubble along his paled skin almost set you alight. You can’t fuck your coworkers. You can’t fuck the people you have to trust on such a deep level like this, bad girl. You reasoned and reasoned with yourself as you stood next to him, so much so that it took two booms of Merricks already commanding voice to snap you from your thoughts.

Apologizing like the good soldier you were, straightening your sore back out and professionally ignoring the way it almost ripped a whine from your throat, you focused on the topic at hand.

Which was…gun training drills? Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening.

You walked out of Merricks office with Kick in tow behind you, willfully ignoring the raised eyebrow the former man sent your way for a moment. It didn’t take much to intrigue him, but your lack of focus and attention was unlike you, your posture sloppier than it should be.

And that only intrigued Kick too.

“Feeling alright?” He offered as you pathetically padded down the weirdly lit hallway. You didn’t really trust all of your instincts right now, so if he was smelling you like you imagined he was, then so be it.

“Yeah” you forced one of those oddly specific fake smiles. The one where your lips stretched thin enough to let the other person know you were probably anything but fine.

He was too adept to fall for it, walking a pace behind you to your left. He knew you too well, knew that look too well.

“Not feeling well?” He didn’t take your word for it, the sound of boots squeaking down the hall the only noise other than the ambient sounds around base. You knew he’d pry a little, he couldn’t help it when it came to a friend. But hopefully he wouldn’t press too much.

“Guess not. Just tired. Long day” you offered up, a decent excuse and not entirely a lie. You were tired. It was a long day. You just had an insatiable, voracious little thing crawling around the walls of your skull, something that slithered its way down to your pussy and threatened to squeeze the life out of it, lest you snuff it out. A need that you knew would only be satisfied by letting yourself slip past the mental barrier of touching yourself while actively bleeding.

You were a soldier, for Christ’s sake. It was just blood. Seen plenty of it, been covered in plenty of it. Used to it. But something about it leaking from you, from an area already so sensitive…it felt wrong. Dirty. A little tainted, despite being so natural. And you hated that feeling. Like your own body was gross.

“Yeah” he nodded a bit more neutrally than you expected. He usually pried, like you’d already figured he’d do. Maybe he wouldn’t-

“Back hurts, huh?” He added before you could finish a thought. You knew not to doubt Kick, so expecting him to finish a thought with a simple yeah was on you.

“How’d you know?” You asked, intrigued laced in your voice, almost a bit of humor. How would he know? Were you that obvious or was he that attuned to his fellow operators?

“Practically slumped over back there in Merricks office…pull a muscle or something?” He asks, just a small smile gracing the corners of his mouth. A sight you ignored staring at for too long as he fell in step beside you, either of you pushing open the double doors to the command building. Synchronous in your steps and movements. You probably did pull a muscle during training, although your entire lower half was already in shambles anyhow.

The night air was a little stuffy, and it only proved to make you feel sticky all over again. You didn’t think to question where he was headed, he just sort of followed you in the direction of your quarters.

“Probably” you huffed a laugh, palming over your lower stomach instinctively when a particularly sharper cramp threatened to show itself. Not unseen by your fellow soldier, no…too observant for that. His eyes flicked down and then back up to yours, ahead once more as he walked alongside you.

“That’s not all, is it?” He gave an almost sympathetic look, that small, friendly sort of smile cresting his lips again as he tossed a look over to you. You met it with an eye roll that lacked any real attitude, unconsciously matching that hint of smile.

His eyes practically glowed in the dim lights around base. The scent of his natural musk mixed with whatever deodorant he had on made you feel stupid in the head. Needy for even the lightest of touch, just a fleeting hand on the small of your back would probably do it. You could go in your room again and just get over yourself, shove a hand down your pants, pretend the slick on your pussy is regular arousal and not the faint metallic scented blood that your body insisted on producing every month.

It’d be easy, actually. You were so needy you felt like a whine would escape you any moment. Aching for touch, comfort, a massive portion of something greasy and deep fried, even. But you’d settle for two fingers rubbing over your swollen clit if it meant your brain would turn itself off for a moment.

And if he didn’t seem to pick up on it with little to no visual cues…what was he, a bloodhound? You hated the double entendre your brain came up with, almost laughing where you should’ve responded already.

“It’s fine…just gonna go rest for the night” you said, the casual tone in your voice wavering a bit as you watched his amber eyes rake over your body from the corner of your eye.

Walking next to him suddenly felt electric. A live wire strung between your bodies, threatening to zap you if you approached it. The tension wasn’t anxiety inducing, it was hot. It licked up the front of your body, heating your cheeks and melting your brain a little. It inserted itself seemingly out of nowhere, and you couldn’t place what to do with it.

“Yeah?” His voice edged a little deeper. Already a bit low in its own right, the honeyed kind of voice that shot straight to your already swollen pussy. Tacking that onto his scent that was noticeable enough to fill your nostrils, and the warmth from his body that only added to the stuffy weather outside, well…it was almost too damn much.

“I wager you’ve already taken a wild amount of painkillers today…?” He asked rhetorically, trying and failing to hide the little smirk that rounded the corner of his mouth. You chanced a glance up at him, and regretted it as soon as you decided. He looked too handsome, and you looked too desperate for human contact.

“Maybe” you huffed out quieter, almost petulantly. Curling up under your blanket and holding onto a spare pillow for comfort wouldn’t be enough tonight, you’d also be flooded with that dull ache while doing so, lucky for you. The needy, almost clingy part of you threatened to escape, if not for the furrow of your eyebrows already doing most of the trick.

He visibly pondered something for a moment. Eyes flicking over to you once more as you two rounded the corner near your quarters. You didn’t know where he’d be going had he not met with you in Merricks office, but it obviously wasn’t too important as he followed you further.

“Need anything?” He asked, a probing sort of question. Too broad of a question for you to answer truthfully. Just bold enough for his style, obvious intentions clear, but not pushing you into any specific direction.

Yes. You needed a lot. You needed him to wrap you up in a hug so tight it made the thoughts leak from your ears. You needed him to hold you, to put something in your aching hole and make you forget your damned name. Your longing was at risk of being exposed the longer his deep, airy voice lingered between the two of you.

You shrugged like you always did, opening the door of your building with a weaker hand than normal. You were an expert at evading the obvious, subconsciously assuming a shrug and lack of any real answer would quell the feelings you had. Would turn them to dust and let this problem fade away.

But your dearest Kick was simply too generous for that.

“Not an answer, sweetheart” he supplied as he shamelessly followed you into the building and down the hall towards your quarters. It was so casual you almost didn’t think twice. Friendly, until he started to walk closer, started to put that hand right on your lower back, making you nearly pout on the spot.

“Kick” you audibly whined this time. Letting it fall right out of you as he practically ushered you down your hall. It made the smirk on his face blossom into a grin, which made you feel even worse. Trapped in a state of ache and longing, your uterus wreaking havoc on every cell in your body.

“C’mon honey…talk to me” he said, voice smooth and deeper and hotter. You couldn’t focus, not with the way his presence kept the fire inside you lit, the way it stretched that flame up and up and up until you felt like smoke would leak from your pores.

“Not feeling well” you pouted this time as you stopped at your door, hand on the doorknob, unsure of what to do next, but also not quite thinking about it too much. Your brain turned to mush from hormones, so many sensations wracking your body and mind it felt overwhelming. His presence only served to overstimulate, albeit it in a generally positive way.

“I know ya aren’t” he said, crossing his thick, muscled arms over his chest, looking down at you with a tilted head and a soft look on his face that made the monster of longing threaten to eat you up from the inside out. You willed tears not to well in your eyes, but they got a bit glassier in the hallway lighting and made it impossible not to notice.

“Asked you what you needed, honey…you can talk to me” he insisted softly, a big hand coming up to meet your cheek, long slender fingers curving around the underside of your jaw. The warm touch made your eyebrows furrow more, looking up at him with a need you didn’t possibly think could be conveyed with words.

He stepped closer and wrapped you into a hug, discreetly checking the hallway for any onlookers that conveniently weren’t there. His body was warm, his scent assaulting your senses even more now. You let out a sighing breath, partially of relief, the rest of something more whiny and pathetic.

“Need this” you murmured weakly into his broad chest, cheek resting between his pecs that were so well sculpted it made you want to rip your hair out. Unfair to be this hot.

“Yeah? What else do you need?” He asked lowly, a hand smoothing up and down your back as he held you tightly to his body, like a weighted blanket soothing your weakened nerves.

“I dunno…” you lied a little, unsure of what exactly you could or should ask from him. You worked with Kick, he was a fellow operator, a friend, and someone you knew you could trust with something like this, if anything. But you couldn’t exactly say the words ‘fuck me and pretend I’m not on my period pleasepleaseplease-‘ even if you wanted to.

The distant memory of getting yourself off in this state crossed your mind again, but with him almost literally knocking at your door as he hugged you outside of it, you wanted to grab onto the opportunity as presented. But you couldn’t. When was the last time you had a boyfriend or a fuck buddy that was willing to have period sex? Never. No reason to think he’d magically be different, you wagered.

“What would make you feel better right now, hm?” He’d test the waters a bit, unable to decipher if the little sniffles coming from your face smushed into his chest warranted an evening of hugs and cuddles, or for what that more diabolical part of his brain secretly wished for.

“Get you something to eat, maybe we could curl up and watch a movie? That what you need, baby?” And God above, if the way baby slid out of his lips alone didn’t have you pressing yourself against him further…

He took everything you gave him, resting his chin atop your head, smoothing your hair down, holding you closer as your boots shuffled on the squeaky tile of the hallway. You didn’t care that you were in the hallway, he didn’t seem to care either. You were alone with him as alone could get in this moment, for all you cared.

“Or do you need something else too, hm?” The question hung in the air as you tried not to lean into his strong body fully. You had to maintain some semblance of control, but the way his warmth enveloped you, the way it liquidated your brain matter and shot straight down to your pussy made it hard to think straight.

“Can’t do that…” you murmured more meekly than you would’ve preferred, voice tinged with dissatisfaction and disappointment that made your achy bones threaten to turn to sludge. “Wrong time of month” you decided to go ahead and admit what he already figured out.

Nothing wrong with admitting that. You may not be able to get around to touching yourself while on your period, but you don’t care to admit it to a friend. Too much of an adult now to feel ashamed.

You just weren’t quite expecting his follow up to be anything short of understanding and maybe some loose disappointment.

“Yeah, sweetheart…I know.” He nodded gently “Don’t care, either.” You were certain he may have just been saying that to say it, to comfort you perhaps. But he didn’t follow up. He let it hang in the air as he held you tightly against him, flickering hallway lights the last thing on your mind as you two exchanged hushed murmurs.

You felt like a rock stuck in the very hard place you didn’t want to be. You desperately craved something more from him. Something beyond the hug that was, fortunately, doing a lot to soothe you. Craved the cock you swore you could feel half hardened against your torso.

“A little…gross, don’t ya think?” You muttered into his chest, arms almost subconsciously wrapping around him tighter, anchoring your body against his.

His body rumbled with a little chuckle, hand still rubbing up and down your back, your entire body full of warmth and some ooey-gooey mix of comfort and arousal. Sticky sweet and threatening to consume you whole.

“Gross? Nothing gross about that…” he spoke more deeply, voice making a near shiver go down your spine, lips parting gently as you bit on the bottom one, a self soothing tactic, you convinced yourself.

“Only if you want, honey…only if you need…” he reminded. You couldn’t help the way you pressed chest further into his, sore breasts making you wince a little as he held you so tight against him.

“Heard it can help with cramps…you ever tried it?” He murmured as he lowered his head a bit, closer to your ear. Pressing a kiss to your temple, you almost whimpered this time. The idea of you touching yourself on your period was one thing you could hardly see past, but to have your sexy as hell coworker and friend offering to fuck you in this state? You weren’t sure if your brain was working correctly.

“No” you murmured, head lifting from his chest to not so confidently look up at him again. “Kick…” you almost pouted again, your tone not quite a question, not quite a statement. Something in between. Something that silently beckoned reassurance.

“I know, I know…” he nodded, bringing that same hand to your cheek again as he looked down at you, something new smoldering in his amber eyes. Something that looked almost as needy as whatever plagued your own.

His lips lowered themselves to yours before you could think, your mushy, hormonal brain lagging way too much. You let out a sigh, his lips warm and just a little chapped. Both hands sliding firmly but softly down your shoulders and back, holding you gently by the hips.

You peeled one of your arms off from around his waist, which had him stilling for just a moment until he heard the click of your door opening behind you. He guided you inside, mouth on yours as he took his turn grabbing for the doorknob, shutting you two up inside your room.

His hands were strong, securing you between the back of your door and his study, broad body. You were already too turned on for your own good, horny and needy and greedy for something. You couldn’t even think about the nerves prickling your skin at the thought of him fucking your bleeding hole, much as the thought also served to turn something on deep inside your brain. Something that felt gross to even enjoy.

Some kind of moan, a breathy little thing escaped you when he trailed his lips down the curved of your neck, towards the junction that turned into your shoulder. You felt his lips curl up into a smile over your skin, hands slowly sliding down to your hips, a thumb smoothing over your belt that had you ready to agree before anything was even asked of you.

“Please…please, Kick…” you found yourself already begging pathetically. Any reservations you had slowly started to dwindle as he gently untucked your shirt from the tactical pants you had to throw right back on after your earlier shower. Breaking away only to pull your shirt off your body, your arms lifting before you could consider it, you watched that flame flicker in his bright eyes again.

“Jesus, I knew you were just as beautiful underneath…” he’d rasp out, hands smoothing up your sides again, gently cupping over your bra. Your poor tits were so sore and tender underneath, but his touch soothed over it like a balm. You bit your lip on instinct as he led you over to your bed, lips practically glued to yours once more.

The next few minutes became clouded in your brain. His shirt came off, your hands immediately reaching for the toned muscle of his abdomen, climbing up over his pecs and to his broad shoulders. All thick and lean muscle wrapped taut under his skin, an unmistakably bullet wound scar that graced his paleness right next to the edge of his collarbone.

Your belt was undone somewhere in there, being tossed into the pile of clothes forming on your floor. Your body was littered with a heat that left you unable to do anything but make those soft little noises, the whines and little moans that escaped you as his lips trailed softly all over your skin.

He was gentle. Easy and soft and gentle with you. Holding your body with a care that could’ve made you emotional, had you not been blinded by arousal and the desire that claimed every inch of your body. Like you were a statue that could crack under the slightest pressure, a box of fine china with a sticker that read ‘handle with care’ strapped over top of it. With a reverence that could’ve had you wondering just how much of a friendly favor this really was.

But you couldn’t wonder when he peeled your bra off you, his hands cupping your sore tits again as he audibly sucked in a breath.

Your little squeak noise had him glancing back up at you, a smile on his face. It was all so natural with him it almost confused you. As if this were a routine you’d danced with him before.

“Sore?” He murmured, hardly giving you room to answer as his head descended toward a swole nipple. Licking the flat of his tongue over top it, your lips parted in a shaky moan, your body so reactive and sensitive it even surprised you a bit.

“Y-yeah” you nodded, voice weak and breathy. The darkness of your room only saved by some moonlight peaking through the slats of your window blinds, illuminating just enough for you to watch him cup the bottom of your tits and lick over your other taut nipple.

Your breath was shaky, moans soft and whiny and full of unspoken desire. A whimpery uttering of his name hardly changed his pace though, as he responded by wrapping his lips around the nipple he was working on, sucking just enough to have you squirming a little in your spot on the bed, mixing pleasantly with the tender ache in your tits.

“How ya wanna do this, sweetheart, hm?” He’d ask as he switched to suckle on your other sore nipple, making your back arch and voice shake.

“Wanna get a towel? Lay you out all pretty and let me make you feel better?” His voice huskier than it had been, passively hungry with desire. His own need flamed through his body, cock rock hard in his tac pants, hands gently rubbing over every inch of your exposed skin.

“Maybe a shower? You get whatever you want, pretty girl…just tell Kick what you want” he rasped lowly, the third person use of his name somehow hotter than you imagined it ever could be. You just couldn’t think very well what you wanted, unfortunately. His mouth, his cock, his hands all over you, certainly. But how, with your blood threatening to stain everywhere had you thinking once again about the logistics.

“Already showered…” you managed to squeak out as he sucked a little more firmly on your nipple, making your hands grasp at his shoulders, desperate for more. More of everything.

“Yeah? How about I get a towel while you lay out and get comfy…i’ll give you whatever you need, angel…promise” he whispered heavily as he kissed his way up your chest and collarbone, up your neck and to your ear. He could sense all your hesitation about this, and was determined to melt it away, under the very pads of his fingertips if he had to.

You could only relent, whining just a little as he pulled away from your body as stood up off the bed. A shirtless Kick was a sight you’d seen plenty times before during training, but this was different. He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead so tenderly it almost made your teeth ache from the sweetness.

You, rather unconfidently, peeled your pants off while he was in your bathroom. You had on regular issue underwear, and a pad. You didn’t get to actually think this far, your brain only attempted to.

You freaked just a little, what do you do with your panties? If he sees your pad, surely he’ll be turned off, no? That’s definitely too intimate of a thing for him to just see, right? Your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment, attempting to tar over all the nice, warm, gooey feelings you had.

But he returned with a clean towel before you could figure it out. Walking so confidently back over to your bed, breath hitching just a little as he watched you sitting in just your panties, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.

You looked up at him, breathing a little too heavily, tears nearly welling in your eyes once more from the overwhelm of it all. You knew you had no reason to be embarrassed of a period. He knew you were on it, offered to fuck you, wanted to fuck you. He wasn’t the one that cared…

“Hey, what is it, sweetheart?” He asked a little more confusedly this time, but the softness prevailed. A big hand reaching out to cup your cheek as he stepped closer to you, setting the towel on the bed and taking his own seat next to you again.

“I dunno…” you murmured, voice too meek for your liking, but you were too far gone to help yourself anymore. Tears dripped from your eyes, an odd mix of embarrassment and hormones sweeping you up and wrapping you in an unwelcome embrace.

“We don’t have to do this, love…we can get dressed and cuddle or something instead…it’s all up to you” he reassured, scooting closer and wrapping you into a hug. More caring and understanding than you told yourself you deserved.

You muttered something about being embarrassed before you could even think it through, and his hand stroking your hair paused only for a moment, before his voice, so airy in its depths, murmured in your ear.

“I’m not ashamed of your body or what it does, I only wanna make you feel good, sweetheart. Only wanna help you, if I can” his words were more tender and thoughtful than you figured they’d be. Maybe you should stop underestimating him, you briefly thought.

Your voice was absent for a moment, only a sniffle of the tears that served to make you feel more pathetic as time went on sounded in your room. You mumbled into his chest, voice quiet and unmistakably full of need and that aching longing for him. For all of him.

“M’wearing a pad…dunno what to do with it…or my panties” it sounded stupid coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t know how to handle any of this. Far too horny and emotional to think.

You couldn’t see his smile, as you had your face nuzzled into his bare chest, inhaling and getting lost in his scent, but you could hear it in his voice. He suggested you take them off, fold them up and set it on the nightstand for now, that you two could dispose of it all later.

And it sounded…idiotically straightforward. You almost got even more embarrassed, undecided if you were making a big deal of it all. You just weren’t aware that nothing you could say or do would perturb him.

You couldn’t help but relent to your insecurities and fears. You slowly lifted your head from his chest, watching the smile form on his lips again and feeling your heart melting at the sight, before you stood up slowly from your bed.

He watched, and took the towel from behind him, laying it on the bed to catch any leaks. It was all so strangely intimate, and he seemed almost well versed in how to handle something like this. Confidence not faltering once. You slowly slid your panties off, catching a sight of the blood stained pad before you folded them up, setting them on the nightstand like he said.

You wondered about cleanliness, your brain telling you the very blood from your body was still something to take with disgust, but you quickly realized there was nothing wrong with any of this, really. Nothing was getting tainted or ruined by a mildly soiled pad sitting folded on your nightstand for probably no more than an hour or two.

But then you worried about the smell. You tried not to get ashamed all over again. Instead, sitting on the towel that he laid on the bed. Your poor pussy aching and swollen already, hormones raging and cueing your body up, far before you got turned on earlier.

He only looked at you with that same reverence, taking in the sight of your now fully nude form, only slightly visibly in the dim moonlight coming from the window next to your bed. He smiled, something warm and fond, his eyes alight with a hunger, though.

He scooted closer still, bringing a hand to the back of your head to kiss you once more. It made you breathless all over again, and whiny. You babbled something about needing him, a please and a whimper laced in somewhere.

And thankfully he took mercy.

All while keeping his lips to yours, he reached for his belt. You listened loosely to the sounds of it clinking and unbuckling, before he slid it from his waist. Followed by the button and zipper of his tac pants being undone. Lifting his hips just enough to slide them off along with his boxers, his cock sprang free. Rock hard and beading precum at the tip, the sight you caught of it had your clit nearly twitching.

He lowered you gently to the bed, hovering atop you as he kissed along your jaw and neck. Your legs spread on instinct as he crawled between them. You were becoming less and less preoccupied with the fact that you were actively bleeding between them.

His arm on one side of your head as his free hand gently kneading your tit. The soreness only added to the sensation. His touch gentle enough to make it more pleasant than you thought it could be.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just let me take care of you…just relax…nothing to be embarrassed of” he murmured next to your ear, that free hand leaving your tit to take a hold of his throbbing cock, sliding it between the lips of your pussy, mutual noises escaping both your throats.

He eased the thick tip into your pussy, gently sliding it in, inch by inch. Agonizingly slow, the moans leaving you were full on whines at this point. Your blood was lube enough, but you were so swollen and tender that the pleasure was heightened ten fold.

You gasped as he buried himself inside you fully, a groan ripped from his throat as he held himself up over your body, years of training not making him even sweat.

What made him sweat was how tight you were. So tender and velvety, swallowing his cock with ease as you looked up at him with those pleading eyes.

He got the memo, and started to thrust slowly. His hard length dragging deliciously along your plump walls, your body alight with so much heat and warmth and tenderness that you got lost in the feeling immediately. Your arms wrapping around his neck, lips permanently parted as you let out those breathy moans that had him willing himself to keep at this slow pace he was starting with.

“There she is…that’s it, love…doing so well right now. That feel good for you?” He asked huskily, his words nearly flying right over your head as he thrusted languidly into your sticky hole. The relief of being fucked nearly brought tears to your eyes all over again, your poor hormones all over the place.

You nodded, breathing out a shaky yes as he slowly picked up the pace, groaning at how easy his cock slid in and out. He couldn’t help but look down, the view of it all obscured in the darkness of your room. But something about this had him pathetically holding himself back.

He wasn’t sure if he could admit it, but there was something about fucking you while you were in this state that ticked off some box in his brain. Something almost icky, primal, perhaps. Feral. What mattered the most to him though was that he gave you that fix you so desperately needed.

He picked up the pace, setting one that had your moans getting louder, your hands slipping over your mouth as he kissed your neck. The husky, breathy sounds of his low grunts in your ear made you feel a similar feral feeling. A need you didn’t realize would overtake you so heavily.

He reached a hand down between your bodies to rub at your engorged clit, taking the awkward angle with stride. Well honed, your brain distantly thought. He fucked you like he knew what he was doing.

You couldn’t voice the worry about him getting your blood on his fingers, your eyes too busy rolling back for a moment at the white hot pleasure that seared through your lower half. It was intense, almost too much, but simultaneously not enough. You mewled and moaned and whimpered into your hand, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and glassy eyes.

A smirk curled onto his lips, his breathy grunts pouring out from his lips like a prayer. The sounds were loud, sloppy as he fucked your bloodied hole like it was something he’d been waiting for. Like he was filling a little need inside himself.

“So-so pretty like this…so gorgeous, sweetheart, taking it so damn good, yeah?” He grunted, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. You could only moan and babble into your hand, feeling an orgasm well up far sooner than it usually did. Your legs wrapped up around his waist, body nearly clinging onto him as he kept at it.

The new angle your hips canted up into had him thrusting his tip right where you needed it most. You whined, back arching after a few more thrusts and swipes over your swollen clit, you came on his cock.

It was blinding. Your whole body warm, heat searing in your lower half, shooting all the way down your thighs. So swollen and tender already, your pussy got even hotter, it made you dizzy and sweaty and satisfied.

The noises you made, the way your eyes clamped shut, your pussy clenching tighter around his length, it made him lose his mind before he could help it. Releasing shortly after you did, flooding your walls with his hot, viscous cum as he unraveled above you, moans leaving his throat that had you so beyond turned on, there wasn’t a word in the English language that could encompass how you felt.

He collapsed a bit on-top you, careful not to squish your boneless body as it lay on your bed. You two could only catch your breath as his cock softened a bit inside you. You could feel his cum mix with your own fluid and blood. And you could be bothered to care. The towel beneath you saving the day as your mind went blank from the overwhelming sensations.

He smoothed the hair out of your face, kissing you softly and cooing at how good of a job you did. How pretty you were and how beautiful your body was. You felt like you’d won some kind of fucking lottery with him.

Your coworker, friend at most, whom you quite literally trusted with your life, was cleaning your blood up, unperturbed by the way it smeared across his cock and fingertips. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he liked it.

You were cleaned up and dressed again before you could really comprehend any of it, letting him do every bit of the work. His thick arms held you tight to his chest after he laid the two of you back down, stroking your hair and breathing deeply with you. Whispering those words of praise that had you wondering.

“What are friends for, love?”

[gunnrblze]

pls yandere keegan hcs....🙏🙏

Sorry this took so long my dear! I’ve not written yandere shit in a millennia, so if it’s corny I apologize💀 also this turned into a little drabble rather than hc’s. MDNI, 18+, dark fic

big TW below the cut: obsessed,possessive Keegan, reference to violence/murder, stalking, manipulation, reference to sexual activity (no actual sex/assault), home invasion, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of being tied up/caged. it’s dark & fucked up, that’s the warning, please heed it don’t come for me

He sees you one day, his heart melting and his cock throbbing in his jeans. You’re so pretty, so precious, and he feels something light him up from the inside out. He wanted to have you. All to himself. He figured you probably didn’t even know how lost you were, not until he stepped into the picture. He was retired from the forces now, he’d been looking for a new project anyways. This would be your rebirth, that’s the way he saw it at least when he decided to follow you home that day.

Scoping out what he’d be working with, your home, how many entrances and exits there are. The neighbors, if you have any roommates/family, pets, alarm systems, etc. To his sheer pleasure, you lived totally alone. He’d change that soon. Don’t worry, honey.

You had a couple ring cameras set up, child’s play, nothing he couldn’t get past. Not that he really cared, of course. He’d have you any way he could get. He’d just hate to have to involve anyone else with his affairs, lest he need to find a more permanent solution. Cop killer isn’t a good look, but if they sniffed around, they’d get what they’d get, he figured.

Taking you would be easy, that wasn’t a problem. He was a silent, experienced man, you hadn’t even noticed how he’d been following you home for the past week anyways. How he’d sit in his truck across the street and watch your figure move around from behind those curtains that were way too sheer. Hell, if he wasn’t planning to rehome you, he’d have to get you new ones. People could see you like that, sweetheart. People that don’t deserve you. Ones that you don’t belong to.

It didn’t matter, really, when exactly he took you, you’d be living a new life with him anyways. He’d already set up such a nice, cozy little spot for you in his basement. He’d snuck in one day while you were at work, he had to know more about you of course. And he knows your favorite color now, so all the blankets and pillows he bought just for you will suit those tastes. He knows your favorite snacks and drinks, he’ll want you to be comfortable of course, especially when you resist at first.

He made sure to memorize all your products, too. So when he helps you wash your hair, you’ll be using the right shampoo. And when he lets you bathe, you can have your favorite scent of body wash. He loves the way you smell anyhow, that scent was wafting off you when he accidentally bumped into you at the grocery store a few days ago.

All the things you enjoyed, he made sure to make a mental note of them. Music, clothes, books, games, any and everything that you filled your space with. He couldn’t believe how lovely you were. Such a beautiful soul, no? You’d be the best addition to the new home and land he’d purchased after retiring, the acres and acres of property, free of any imposing neighbors.

He’d left your home in the exact condition it was in before he broke in, of course. He’d disabled your cameras through your WiFi router, not the best home surveillance, he reckoned, but he had something much more up to the task on his property. Thank god for military training, no? You didn’t even seem to be too concerned when he watched you come home that evening and check them out yourself. Going back and forth between the app on your phone and the camera near your front door in an attempt to figure out why the connection had cut out for a couple hours.

It almost killed him to watch you get so frustrated before finally giving up, going back inside to simply fix your WiFi. He wished he could tell you that sooner rather than later, you wouldn’t have a problem in the world. He’d take them all from you, give you any and everything you need.

He was expecting a fighter, of course. From what he learned, you had an attitude, didn’t take much shit. That asshole in the mall parking lot got an earful when he almost rear ended your car last week, fucker tried to blame it on you. Thankfully he didn’t, but Keegan took care of it anyway after you left.

Had you noticed the missing man on the news was that same guy? Did you realize what he’d done for you? Nobody would ever get to speak to you like that again, sweetheart. Not when he’s around to take care of you.

He packed extra rope in his truck just for you, just in case you were a smarter cookie than you looked. You can never be too careful, always underestimate your enemy, some of the lessons he’d learned during his career seemed to apply here too. Not that you were an enemy, god no, but you’d certainly consider him one for a while. He was just thinking logically, of course.

Thankfully you still had that spare key in the planter next to your front door from when he’d checked for one the first time he went to your house. He thought it was cute, really. How you figured putting it somewhere else, rather than under the mat, was safer.

He wasn’t stupid enough to take you during the day, but he could’ve. He just figured the darkness would hide his figure more easily. It was almost pathetic, how he walked right into your house without making a sound. He knew you were in bed already, part of your night routine. He felt a little bad for turning the WiFi off again when you were in the middle of your show, but it lured you out of your bedroom, thankfully.

Although it was for the best, he understood that you were scared when he silently cupped a hand over your mouth and locked an arm around your waist from behind. So he made sure to replace his hand with the rag very quickly before you fainted in his arms.

It took him a bit longer to get you into his truck than he’d initially planned. Finally getting his hands on you, laying your limp body down on the living room floor to brush the tears off your cheeks, he almost couldn’t stand it. The sight of his sweetheart, finally in his arms, looking too peaceful for words. He wasn’t one to get distracted, certainly not during a time like this either, but he didn’t account for the time it’d take him to get himself under control.

He had to excuse himself to your bedroom for a moment to jerk his rigid dick off into a pair of your dirty panties. He’d hate to drive with a hard on of course, especially when you’d be waking up around the time he arrived home. He didn’t want to be distracted while he brought you inside, considering you’d no doubt be more combative.

And it’s a good thing he knew how to think ahead, because your wrists were already raw against the rope as he dragged you through his front door. He hated to see you cry, hated the way the gag was soaked with your tears and saliva, but he tried telling you it was okay. You didn’t listen of course, flailing like a fish in his arms as he walked down the basement steps. But he’d wait. He’d wait until the day you thank him, until the day you reciprocate his love.

Until then, you can stay shackled to the wall. Please, just don’t make him put you in the cage again. Really, there’s no need to bite, sweetheart.

[gunnrblze]

City Dweller, pt. 1

☾ Hesh x Reader, 2k+ words, SFW

New fic based on my little Roomate!Hesh drabble :)

Hello friends, so happy y’all liked my little drabble so much! Loved seeing the comments n feedback, I’m naturally pretty iffy about my own writing so I appreciate it a lot! Here’s this lolll :)

Santa Monica was beautifully warm. Palm trees littered around, sunshine beating down during the peak hours of the day. Only remnants of a past war, a ghost of what was. Your ‘fresh start’ as you’d been calling it felt almost…conventional, all things considered. Hallmark movie-like, the apartment you’d found yourself touring looking almost suburban, but distanced enough from what you imagine the suffocation of a cookie-cutter neighborhood would feel like.

Years after the Federation had been defeated, the world attempting some chance at peace and uniformity, you needed something new. With a decent job offer, and an already established friend living in the city, you figured it made more than enough sense.

Knocking on the door of a decently sized complex, you didn’t have nearly enough time to really zone in on your anxiety and attempt to squash it. Instead, your endeavor was halted by a large, athletically sturdy man appearing in the doorway with a warm, ice melting smile. Your eyes tracing over him instead of the 207 plastered on the door.

You didn’t know what to expect, honestly. Hell, you didn’t really have many expectations for meeting Hesh, other than the involuntary assumptions you made based on the bit of information your friend had given you. But all that information came from their friend Logan, Hesh’s brother. Considering that you’d hype up your sibling in the same scenario too, you were counting on having to gain your own footing. Going in blind to meet a man you didn’t know and touring his apartment almost felt like a poor decision. But hey, if this guy was a freak, you at least had a friend who knew where you were.

Of course, you couldn’t quite form any actual thoughts for a moment, a bit too stunned with how pretty he was.

A physique damn near sculpted from marble. A smile so gentle and welcoming it made your teeth ache. Bright green eyes that made you wonder how it was possible to have a simultaneously easy-going yet poised energy. A beard that was almost starting to border into mutton chops territory, that he somehow pulled off in your eyes.

It was no wonder your internal monologue blacked out for a moment.

He welcomed you in, introducing himself first as David, then explaining that you can call him Hesh like everyone else does. You only wondered for a moment how that nickname must’ve been born from ‘David’, before he insisted showing you around the apartment.

The apartment was nice and clean, almost verging on dull, but you weren’t too surprised after being told he was an army Lieutenant. Usually gone for work, absent more than he was present. It made sense the way the kitchen nearly looked straight out of a Home Depot display. All sharp edges and clean surfaces, new stainless steel appliances that almost made you swoon. But with enough personal touch to let you know he dwells here, at least.

It got even more convenient when he showed you down the hall toward what would be your room. You tried to breathe regularly, but something about him was both refreshing and suffocating. Your eyes swept over picture frames on the wall, both new and dated photos of him and his brother Logan. A man who he vaguely resembled, perhaps a father. A woman that looked eerily twin-like to his brother…you were starting to get the picture. He gave you a cursory peak of his own room just to acquaint you with everything, the details you caught before he shut the door again already conjuring more assumptions about him. What kind of games does he play on that setup? He must really be partial to the color green. How do you even make a bed that neat? Was that a dog bed-wait, was that an actual dog too?

You must’ve been daydreaming a bit, when his slight chuckle broke you out of the trance you’d tripped into.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if Logan mentioned to your friend that I have a dog, Riley. Is that a problem?” He’d ask, voice smoother than whiskey, warm and heavy and settling into the few feet standing between your bodies. His tone was lacquered with kindness and welcoming, but his firm, assured nature stood next to you like a brick wall. Unwavering and almost comforting, for a stranger.

You explained that you didn’t mind, you liked dogs well enough, after all. And with the way he assured you that Riley was indeed, a very good boy, and went to work with him everyday, you suspected it wouldn’t be a problem. “You’ll hardly even know he’s here, usually stays in my room. He’s fully trained and housebroke, too” he followed up after seeing the quick mental debate you were going through. Just an extra, furrier roommate, no? Maybe a piece of info you’d like to know beforehand, but something inside you just didn’t care too much. Maybe it was how casual he acted about it. Just a dog, man’s best friend and all, you figured.

After the little German shepherd shaped surprise, he showed you to the second bedroom. Smaller than his, which you didn’t mind considering he claimed his stake a while ago, and it was just like the rest of the apartment anyways.

Perfect.

Or did he feel perfect? Did he, in this apartment, perhaps feel perfect? Were you being ridiculous, since you’d only known him for a mere 10 minutes so far? Surely a David Walker sized miracle didn’t just land in your lap like this. He’s just some guy, with a dog, and an empty bedroom.

There’s plenty of those. But you were starting to want this one.

Clean and spacious, perfect for all your belongings, you wondered how you lucked out. The light filtered into the room from the open blinds, and it all felt a bit tranquil and relaxing. Cream colored walls surrounding you, sturdy hardwood flooring that your shoes clacked on with every step. Hesh stood a reasonable distance from you the whole time, however you couldn’t help but feel as if his presence lingered closer. As if he were right on your heels, instead of being a respectable few feet away.

After showing you the rest of the apartment, the laundry area and bathroom just as seemingly spotless, you were already fantasizing about how you’d decorate your room and slowly worm your knickknacks throughout the rest of the apartment. When he asked you a bit about yourself, you almost looked unsure for a moment, caught off guard. Why you were faltering so much, you had to mentally blame on your lack of consistent human connection. Usually being holed up away from everyone else for work made you a bit of a recluse.

And how you could even begin to think about yourself when you had a large, square shouldered man leaning against the doorframe of his kitchen was beyond you. Those forest eyes narrowed in on you, and you only. Both staring a hole through you, and somehow keeping you all in one piece at the same time. His composed demeanor couldn’t possibly lack personality, though. His smile was something warm. That cup of coffee on a chilly morning, the one that you can feel blaze a trail all the way down your throat and throughout your chest upon first sip. So heedlessly friendly and hospitable, like a frosting that’s just a little too sweet. One that makes your stomach hurt a bit. But the ache is so tender, isn’t it?

You gave enough of an idea about yourself, not too much information for a stranger, but enough to hopefully warm him up to the idea of you moving in. And it seemed to help, or maybe it was that slight ‘when are you ready to move in?’ attitude he already seemed to harbor. As if he were just waiting for you to agree. Like he’d already decided it would work out the moment you stepped inside. It took you by a quiet surprise, the way he held the conversation in such a tone that he’d already made up his mind on you, and now it was simply your turn to decide how you felt. So self assured, so nonchalantly confident that it even made you want to stand up a bit straighter.

. . ・ 。 . ・ ゜ ✭ ・ ☽ ・ ✫ ・ ゜ ・ 。 . .

You weren’t expecting your first apartment touring to be so…immaculate, when are they ever? But you found yourself dotting your I’s and crossing your T’s on the lease paper by the end of the week, and moving your stuff in.

Not without his help, of course.

You’d insisted you could have a friend help, or call a moving company, to which you nearly watched him laugh at. The idea of paying someone money when you had him to help, seemed out of his scope of understanding. So he helped, not busy enough with work for once to assist you in moving boxes upon boxes up the stairs and into the apartment. Logan even came to help with the heavier furniture you had. You’d only briefly met him once through that mutual friend that’d recommended you as a potential roommate, and he seemed to be just as kind and friendly as his brother, only quieter. You could see clear as day how they were related, moving like a well oiled machine as they carried your bed frame up the stairs.

The two of them shared a couple looks when they naturally assumed you weren’t paying attention. But you had eyes in the back of your head while inside an apartment with two men who were technically, still strangers to you. Looks you couldn’t quite decipher, and decided to willfully ignore, lest you start jumping to conclusions and psych yourself out of this arrangement. A little smirk plastered on Logan’s face whenever he caught Hesh glancing at you. Always glancing, always looking. And you couldn’t help but notice. Your eye contact with him felt like a game, both eyeing one another and trying to pretend you really weren’t. How he managed to keep an eye and his focus on two things at once though, you just chalked up to his skills as a soldier, maybe. Because you couldn’t focus on much else whenever your eyes roamed over the back of his head, the slightly grown out brown hair that curled up around his ears, or the way his t-shirt fit across the broad expanse of his chest.

After all your things had been lugged up the stairs and into the apartment, you could take a little breather. Unpacking and really settling in would be another feat, and you wanted to start as soon as you could, despite the exhaustion from the busy day.

After thanking Logan again for helping, he left the, your, apartment. And it was odd, that this was also your apartment now. Boxes stuffed inside and name on the lease next to his. You felt like an intruder, like you couldn’t mark your territory properly since he’d done it first. Not that he felt that way, of course. It was your space now, too. Your room, your bathroom, your kitchen, your living room. Just with a man and a dog inside, too.

A man who seemed to have been harboring a spot in your thoughts since you met him a few days ago. Always on the back burner, always bouncing around like the ball in a pinball machine. That charming cadence in his voice, his little grin that seared itself into your brain. What was it about him? You didn’t know. You didn’t really want to know. He was your roommate now, you couldn’t have yourself swooning for a man who was simply kind and respectful towards you.

But now you were alone with him. And it almost didn’t even feel odd. Being alone with a man in a new city, a new apartment, would normally put anybody at least a little on edge. But he made it more delightful and pleasant than you thought he’d really even attempt to try. Was he even trying? Or did he just have the energy of a snake charmer?

It was difficult to tell, since he didn’t at all seem to regard you as a snake. No, he looked at you like you were the finest wine. Something he sought to cradle in his large hands, careful not to squeeze too tightly incase you decide to hightail it. He was charming and respectful and sweet but it felt heavy. He tried to be casual, or maybe he just was, and it worked, but his near reverence for you slipped from the cracks, and it sparked up something light and fuzzy in the bottom of your chest.

Maybe you were both being a little silly. Perhaps he didn’t get much personal social interaction outside of his own working hours either. Maybe that’s why the apartment felt both calm yet cramped with both of you inside now. You’d only known him for a handful of days so far, but he made it feel as if it were longer.

All you could do for a moment was sit on the edge of your unmade bed, and take a deep breath. You had mountains of boxes and emotions to unpack, one of which you decided to close the lid on for now.

[gunnrblze]

Roommate!Hesh

Hello friends. This is my first actual lil piece of writing I’m posting (in this fandom, on this account lol). I’m debating turning it into a full fledged fic, so if you’re intrigued by that I’d love to know! Not to abase myself or anything, but my writing is quite mid lmfao, I just enjoy my silly thoughts n ideas so here you go :)

•1k+ words, SFW, could possibly be read as some slight stalker-ish behavior if you squint, but nothing actually dark like that! The man is just down bad :(

You weren’t exactly sold on living with a stranger yet. Especially not some army guy, but you had little choice.

Desperately needing a roommate after moving to Santa Monica, a friend mentioning a friend of theirs who has a brother. A brother who happens to be looking for a roommate too.

You trusted your friends judgement enough to pursue the recommendation. Figuring that living with a special forces soldier could either be pleasantly uneventful, or a dumpster fire, based on what you knew of the type.

But David, or Hesh as everyone reportedly calls him, was decent. Clean, respectful, kind when he toured you around the apartment. The near boyish charm that laced itself between his heavy presence may have caught your attention.

But a fling, especially with a new roommate, was not what you needed.

Your room was smaller than his, but having gotten to the apartment second to him, you understood first come first served. You just enjoyed the in-unit washer and dryer and stainless steel appliances, if you were being honest.

The apprehension you had, the hang ups of starting a new chapter, moving in with someone you only just met through a friend of a friend, started to dissipate sooner than anticipated. Instead filled in by a dull surprise.

Hesh worked pretty often, but even when he wasn’t around, it’s as if he were still there.

His section of chores always finished, some of yours even started or done completely for you. You asked him about it after divvying up the household responsibilities, making sure you weren’t confused.

But he insisted it was “no biggie”, he’d just found himself taking the trash out on his way to work. Tidying the kitchen up after he got home in the middle of the night and cooked himself an impossibly late dinner.

Said dinner he left in the fridge the next morning, a sticky note on top explaining that you should finish it up so it doesn’t go bad.

Leftovers usually kept for days though, didn’t they?

His boots by the front door, the smell of his aftershave somehow lingering everywhere throughout the apartment, his hat left in the bathroom and the goddamned coasters that he insisted be used around the living room.

When he wasn’t there, it felt like he was. A ghost permeating the walls. His broad frame, tall and wide, voice deep, green eyes that somehow always landed on you when he was near. They weren’t quite unsettling eyes, they were penetrating. As if he could see what lie inside you, too.

But when he was there, it felt almost arresting. Interrupting. You barely knew him, only lived with him for a few weeks.

But you weren’t sure whether you could tell if it even felt that way anymore.

Anything he bought, you were free to use or eat. Was he just that nice? Your old roommates wouldn’t let you touch their things with a 10 foot pole. But what was his seemed to be yours in a way, too.

You chalked it up to him being an eldest child. But you weren’t merely being treated like a younger sibling.

Your Netflix subscription ended and you didnt want to spend the money to renew it, but it didn’t matter because Hesh had Netflix too. Which meant you had it.

Hesh had every kind of household tool one could need in his toolbox, which meant that you had them now too.

Except you couldn’t use them. Because he’d fix whatever you needed. Hang up any picture frame of yours on your wall as you started to decorate your space. And you merely let him, somehow unable to insist that you could indeed, handle it.

It was only natural when he’d asked if you wanted breakfast one morning, explaining that he made too much food. Too much of your favorite food. Or when he not so subtly watched how you made your tea, filing it away in his brain so he could bring you a cup one day when you were sick in bed.

And then some cough drops. And soup. And cold medicine.

Maybe you felt a bit like a guest at a bed and breakfast, or maybe he was just raised decently.

When the washing machine broke, he took a look at it before you could even bring it up to him, was he listening to you in the laundry room? Hard to say. Fixed it so you could do your loads of laundry.

But not before letting you borrow a t-shirt of his, since all your clothes were dirty, of course. You’d obviously have to wash the one you had on, too.

You thought you were surely screwed when your car broke down outside of work one day. But when you texted Hesh and asked if he knew of a good mechanic. he was, naturally, already in the area just running errands.

So he took a look at your car while you stood to the side and watched. Making a point not to watch his biceps flex around the ring of his t-shirt sleeve, or the way he brushed the sweat off his forehead.

Surely you were paying attention to his explanation of the drive belt in your car being too wore out, and not the way his fatigues stretched over the meat of his thighs.

Why was he in his work uniform if he was just running errands? You didn’t think about it very much.

Your job had been stressing you so much, and it appeared something like second nature for him to wrap you into a hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back, murmuring things that seemed too dulcet for a roommate of hardly even a month to soothe you with. Even though it helped.

He was always there, his magnetism suffocating. But not in the way that two hands might feel around your neck. But in the way the sunshine feels beating down on you. The way you feel tipsy before feeling fully drunk, charged but blissful.

Pleasantly inescapable.

You didn’t really stop to fully question his comforts though, not when he made you a cup of tea and put a movie on in the living room, sitting a bit too close to you.

Not that you minded of course, considering you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

And what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t pick you up and tote you off to your bedroom? He knew you were half awake, and you knew he knew, but it didn’t matter.

With one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your back, your face that didn’t need to be pressed to his chest, it just didn’t matter.

Because what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t lay you in your bed and cover you up, setting your alarms on your phone so you’d wake up the following morning?

How did he know your passcode? How did he know exactly what alarms you set?

It didn’t really matter to you after he kissed your head goodnight.

[gunnrblze]

just saw ur first date hcs and loved it💝

now can a bitch get some NSFW headcanons?

Thank you dear 🩶ask and ye shall receive. Going off this post of their sfw request. 18+ MDNI or else

Hesh would light up when you agree to a second date. Your face held gently in his roughened hands, a thumb swiping over your cheek as he leans in to kiss you again.

More firmly this time, his hand slid down to your hip, squeezing lightly, hoping to convey his need. As if his tongue snaking into your mouth didn’t give enough away…

After clumsily fishing out your keys, you unlocked your door and led him inside your place, his lip reddened and glued to yours.

Neither of you felt like you could waste anymore time, the chemistry too strong, the need making your knees weak as he lifted your shirt off, tugging at the straps of your bra already as his lips kissed down the length of your neck.

Hesh, despite his dick straining against his jeans, was otherwise patient and slow. He was sensual as he caressed your body, peppering kisses all over you when you two finally stumbled back to your bedroom.

He undressed you fully, unable to hide his admiration for your body as it was laid before him.

He spent all night loving you. Whispering sweet words into your ear after he ate you out, sliding himself into your body with a soft groan. He held your hand as he fucked you, ensuring you came again before he did, his deep green eyes drinking in the sight of you.

Being wrapped up tight in his big arms afterward was just as enjoyable.

•••

Logan didn’t want to seem too eager, his confidence not as fully fledged as his brothers might be. But neither of you could keep your hands off one another.

He had you pressed up against an alleyway wall somewhere in the city, a hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist. His lips were hot as they kissed yours, deep and erotic enough that any passerby would be given quite the show.

The two of you decided to walk back to his truck, still parked at the ice cream parlor a few blocks away. As soon as you two were inside, all fours hands were gripping at one another. Needy and warm.

He attempted to drive back to his place, but the backroad he may or may not have taken on purpose looked too inviting. Your hand slinking across the bulge in his pants didn’t help.

You two clumsily stripped off enough clothing for you to be able to crawl into his lap, and sink down on his leaking cock.

Logan grunted a little as you started to ride him, quickly turning into moans he couldn’t hold back, his big hands gripping the fat of your hips. You laid against his chest for a while after you both came hard enough to see stars.

He stroked your back and kissed your shoulder, helping to clean the both of you up and get redressed.

You two weren’t at his place for very long before he was giving you those pretty little needy eyes again…

[gunnrblze]

A lil Kick fic one shot :) tag: @blacktacmopsi MDNI

Kick, who is completely exhausted by the end of the work day—having spent all of it at various desktops and electronics—figured he’d slump into his bed and fall fast asleep as soon as he had the chance.

The latter didn’t quite happen yet, though. He lied awake, staring at the ceiling of the small room on base he was in, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Least im not sharing a damn bunk with Keegan again…he thought to himself, appreciating this rare privacy the team would get on other bases.

His mind wandered. The op, his work, did he turn off the light in that stuffy office? He figured eventually his overtired brain would give up and let him get some shut eye, but the more he focused on it, the further the possibility became.

He let his thoughts drift to whenever they wanted to go now. The crappy food that made his stomach ache earlier, who the hell serves food that out of date, even to soldiers? The poor mood Merrick had been in all day, old man needs to get laid or something…

And then you.

How hard you’d worked today, the way you seemed to not even notice anyone else unless you needed to, for the job. You were so busy, so capable and intelligent, perfect for the job, he’d thought.

His mind lingered there for a bit. The way your hair framed your face, the snarky expression you had when something really pissed you off, the way your uniform fit so snug around your thighs-

He tried to end that train of thought. You’re a colleague, after all, you hardly know him. He’s no stranger to a workplace crush, been there and unfortunately done that, but this wasn’t even a crush. You were just…there, with everyone else.

His brain was overactive now though, apparently the long days work wasn’t enough to make him anything more than mild to moderately sleepy. So he entertained it, just a little. Thought all about the way your ass looked when you bent over yesterday, how you bit your lip whenever you had to really concentrate.

Kick thought about that little gasp you made when you closed your finger up in a truck door last week, if he could ever make you gasp like that, in less painful circumstances.

He knew it wasn’t that wrong to think about you in such a way, it was just his imagination, right? This isn’t 1984, thought crimes don’t exist…he told himself. But still, he figured he should respect your dignity, yeah? You’d never know that he was wondering how soft your tits must be, or the way your face might twist up with pleasure if he were to sit you on his own…but it’d be kinda wrong, no?

The man closed his amber eyes as hard as he could, scrubbing his hands over his face with a tired sigh in an attempt to rid his brain of his thoughts, empty it out like an etch a sketch.

Only problem was, the half-hard issue he had in his pants now. He groaned a little out of annoyance, figuring he certainly had the privacy to slip a hand down into his boxers, but he couldn’t jerk off to what had caused the issue in the first place.

You.

Having imagined the way you’d look naked was one thing—what those pretty hips and legs would look like around his waist—but to touch himself to the thought of you? Of course he couldn’t do that, would he even be able to look at you proper the next day?

He sufficed for imagining some silly hentai video he’d watched recently, the seldom moments he had alone, he liked to capitalize on. His hand slid down the lower half of his stomach and cupped over the bulge in his pants. Kick let out a small sigh, shifting a bit more comfortably as he lied on his back in the rickety little bed.

His poor mind kept wandering as he gave himself a few squeezes, stiffening his cock up fully before slipping a hand into his pants, his length straining against his boxers now. He shook his head, attempting once more to rid it of your image. Trying to replace it with some big breasted anime woman, who was just some animated thing, really…nothing could ever beat having a real woman like you-

“For fucks sake…” he whispered out loud this time, huffing as he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft. The silence of the room felt loud while he slowly stroked himself, forcing his mind to focus on literally anything else to get his rocks off on now. Anything but your pretty eyes or how fucking smart you are, damnit.

It worked for a while, too. He undid the button to his pants and slid them down his hips a bit, working his cock up out of the now slightly stained boxers. His tip was red and nearly aching with how desperate he’d gotten. Desperate to rub one out and be done with it so he could get some sleep. But the more he had to direct his mind back to whatever porno he could think of rather than what was organically popping up, the more he ended up chasing his orgasm.

It was nearing pathetic, really. His hips jerked up as he fisted his slick cock over and over and over, his back arching off the bed slightly while panting as quietly as he could, a quiet whine forced from his throat.

He didn’t want that guilt on his conscious, though. Jerking off to the thought of you? He was better than that, he’d already decided. But the more his mind lingered, the more he lost focus.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if he just indulged himself a little bit, yeah? It’ll only be for a moment…at this rate he could cum within a second, if he’d only let himself.

He tried, he really did. The thought of your lips on his neck and his fist being replaced by your cunt was hard to stave off, though. He shut a hand over his mouth, forcing down the whimper that bubbled up whenever his hand passed over his leaking head.

He felt a little guilty, but he couldn’t help himself. “They’ll never know…nobody will know…” he muttered roughly under his breath, the sound of his slick cock long having filled the room. Too late to think about the potential consequences of having the Walker boys on the other side of the wall, no doubt listening to this miserable display.

Kick couldn’t take much more of it. Breathing unevenly with his dick throbbing and pulsing in a balmy hand, he decided to let himself go, deal with any remaining guilt after the fact.

All it took was the thought of your eyes on him, calling out his name the same way you had earlier today, that had the poor operator covering his stomach in cum, groaning into his hand like some desperate whore.

———————

He was glad the next morning, to say the least, that you’d probably be out of his sights today. He’d be holed up in his office again, unlikely to be doing much more.

He could handle that, yeah? Seeing you would be the problem, having to face you after what he’d secretly done.

He walked out of his quarters, bags under his eyes, when he heard the door next to him opening. Shit, hope those two didn’t hear me…he prayed Hesh and Logan had been asleep already last night.

He must’ve been mistaken about who was bunked in the room parallel to him, though, when he saw you walk out, smirk only as concealed as you could manage…

Fuck.

[gunnrblze]

Some Elias filth for my fellow Elias whores. Had this half written in my drafts and it needed to see the light of day. MDNI 18+

CW: sleepy sex, use of daddy/sir/good girl. It’s nasty 💋

Elias was a simple man, really and truly. 

Sure, his career was tumultuous. He made many questionable decisions, willingly put himself in harms way for the good of the country, the world. He had a temper when things got rough, and hated to lose. But who didn’t?

At home though, where he could bask in your sweet smile and the warmth you radiated when he wrapped his thick arms around you, he was simple. 

So much so, that despite his age, all it took to give him a hard on was the sight of you, freshly showered and ready for bed.

He could kick himself, honestly. He was exhausted, and he knew you had to be too. However, watching you move around the bedroom with that towel tucked under your arms, hanging right under the swell of your ass, only made his cock grow further in his pajamas. 

The smell of your soaps and lotions were wafting into the bedroom, your pretty figure leaving a trail of the fragrance everywhere you went, intoxicating him to the point he couldn’t even focus on whatever news article was displayed on his phone. 

You carried on the rest of your night routine as usual, and he decided he’d ignore the warmth in his lower half, save it for another night where you both have more energy, perhaps. A night where he can properly love on you. 

But when he watched your towel drop, revealing the expanse of your back and those supple cheeks, he felt his cock grow impossibly rigid. He cursed himself, internally. The man was in good shape for his age, no doubt about it, but he normally struggled to get it up these days. 

All it took was you existing though, to send a shot through his heart all the way toward the length in his boxers. The one currently straining against the layers of fabric that kept it tucked away as he lied under the covers.

He had no trouble acting inconspicuous, of course. He was a seasoned soldier, great at pretending that the way his t shirt outlined your breasts as you slipped it on didn’t bother him. That the jiggle in your thighs as you walked over to the bed and climbed in next to him didn’t threaten his facade of decency. 

He was a man too, though.

That little half smile you gave him, the one laced with sleepiness and warmth, almost made him feel guilty. Could he go to sleep with an erection, or would he have to sneak off to the bathroom and rub one out so as to not bother you with the matter? To be determined, he reckoned. 

Elias turned his phone off and abandoned it on his bedside table as you settled into bed. He laid down with you, arms instinctively opening wide to accommodate your body as you scooted closer to him. He returned your pretty smile, wrapping you into his gentle hold. He willfully ignored how damned soft and smooth your skin was as the two of you murmured your goodnight’s. 

Lying there with you was the sweetest torture he’d ever felt. Your warm, supple skin against his own, seeping into his body. Your scent flooding him even further as he nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling you and storing it away in his memory. The soft, slow pattern of your breath as you settled into him fully. His cock ached at this point, but he didn’t want to disturb how peaceful you were. He decided he’d wait until you fell asleep, and then he’d go take care of himself. 

You tossed and turned a bit in his hold though, not quite ready to give into your exhaustion. You switched to a spooning position, and he obliged. Throwing an arm over your waist, letting you curl back into his hard body. He made a passive attempt at keeping your rear away from his crotch, but you seemed to not budge on the matter, wanting to be as close as possible. 

He could almost see the smirk on your face from behind as your ass pressed into the strain under his pajamas, nestling his shaft right between your cheeks. For a silent moment, he figured maybe you’d let it go, but he knew better than to assume that you weren’t plotting something. 

“Elias?” Your honeyed voice murmured into the silence of the bedroom, laced with a humor that made his heart catch. 

“Hmm, sweetheart?” He answered, voice a little more gruff than usual, his face burying itself into your neck, taking an inhale to both ground himself and to further drown in your essence. 

“Got a problem?” You weren’t even attempting to hide your pleasure with his circumstances now, wiggling your ass against him just to feel the way his breathing hitched, and the light groan that escaped his throat. It set a little throb deep inside your pussy, heating you up from the inside out.

He debated for a moment, but he knew it’d be futile to pretend all was well, that he wasn’t an aching, leaking mess in his boxers. That every breath you took didn’t make him grow even hungrier for you. 

“Appears that way” he muttered into your neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there as you pushed your ass further into his crotch, toying with his ability to hold out. His own exhaustion had already set in, but it didn’t quell the ache that throbbed through him.

You were too good for someone like him, he decided. His pretty girl, always so perfect. Indulging that ache with a delicious grind of your backside into his lap, turning your head as much as you could to get a glimpse of him in the near darkness of the room. 

“Wanna solve it?” You murmured, smiling as you set a slow pace with your hips, grinding and wiggling them into his crotch, tired brain getting drunk on the low grunts it drew from him. 

He grinned easily, the hand that rested over your stomach sliding back to your hip, getting a bit of leverage as he grinded right back into you, forgoing the hang ups he had. You sweet thing…you were offering. 

“You bet I do, darling” he rasped into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and slicking your pussy up. “Is that what you want, hm? Wanna help daddy out?” he whispered this time, not stopping that slow grinding into your ass. His tone made you throb a little, nipples poking through his t-shirt stuck tight to your body. 

Elias slid a hand up said shirt, cupping his palm over your nipple and gently squeezing the fat of your breast, lazily grinding into your ass some more while kissing your neck. It sent a hot sensation through your body, ending in your clit that had begun to throb in your panties, wet fabric sticking to your folds. 

“Yeah” you breathed out softly, voice velvety and smooth. You kept moving your hips, but you let him do most of the work, using your body gently. Relishing in the soft moans you gave when he’d toy with your nipples, stiffening them up as much as they’d go. Eyes gently closed, your back flush against his broad chest as he turned you on more and more, arousal mixing with exhaustion to create a dizzying sensation. A needy one.

You could feel the older man smile against the back of your shoulder, pressing another kiss there as he kept caressing your stomach and breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers just to hear the way your breathing shuddered, mouth open with heady breaths. 

“Elias” you murmured, light and breathy and tinged with something that almost sounded impatient, his hips not stopping their relentless grinding. Your cunt was starting to do most of the talking, of course, and it amused him.

“Uh uh” the older man replied, shaking his head as it nestled into the side of your neck, his heavy breaths landing all over your fevered skin as his lips peppered kisses on top. “What’s my name, honey?” You huffed a bit at his low little reprimand, but it only made your panties more damp. 

“Daddy…wanna help you” you swallowed thickly, biting your lip as his hand started to slide down your stomach, rough fingertips sending a shiver through your softer skin. He hummed gruffly in approval, a sound that never failed to set you alight. Working something desperate up inside of you. 

The need to please. 

His hand kept descending down your body, reaching the hem of your panties as they wrapped around your hip. You hadn’t stopped your gentle grind into his crotch and neither had he. But with his fingers so close to your pussy, your brain was already starting to melt. Almost letting out a whine, reduced into a whore by the thought of him alone. 

“Yeah? You’re helping alright, just be good and let daddy use you, hm girl?” He rasped into your ear, pressing a kiss there as he started to work your panties down your thighs, only to stop when they were just halfway down. The thought of him not even bothering to take them off fully almost had the sound of his boxers being slid down next go unnoticed. 

If the sound went unheard, the feeling of his hardened cock pressing into your bare ass certainly didn’t. Your thoughts were messy as is, the state of your poor, throbbing pussy matching. 

“Yes, sir” you almost forgot to answer, head nodding before your mouth could pathetically catch up. You arched your back a little, the soft skin of your ass sliding up his length a bit, pulling a loose groan from his throat. You felt his cock twitch against you slightly, the title making him feel a little more indecent than he’d planned on tonight. 

He held himself in one hand, rubbing his swollen tip gently between your cheeks. The unexpected, but not unwelcome feeling, had you biting down on your lip more. You were drowsy enough and your brain was a wreck with arousal, you wanted to beg.

Wanted to say all the right things, work the man up just right so that he’d slide into your weeping hole already. But more than that, you wanted to feel useful for him. Wanted to be his good girl. 

So you let him continue without complaint, listening to his heavy breathing as his free arm came to wrap up under your body, keeping you snug against his chest, hand practically groping at your chest now over your shirt. 

His movements were a little hungrier, despite the mutual exhaustion, but he was still taking his time. Teasingly so. Whatever itch he’d suddenly gotten tonight, you’d let him scratch it however he liked. 

After indulging his teasing a little longer, feeling him smile into your neck as his arm wrapped around your own chest now, he rewarded your patience. He dragged his heavy cock between your slickened folds, wetting his shaft with so much ease it might’ve heated your cheeks up with embarrassment, had you not been so lost in arousal. 

You let out a sigh in tandem with his soft groan, arching your ass back further to angle his cock just right. He let out a chuckle, amused at your neediness, how damned wet you were just from being teased a bit.

“That’s it, darling…right there. Look how ready you are…” he muttered into your ear again, slowly easing the head of his cock into your drooling hole. The angle made the stretch all the more delicious, a moan slipping out of your throat at the sensation of his rigid shaft filling you up. 

You swallowed him up with ease, practically leaking down his cock as he nestled it fully inside of your body, his grunt making your clit throb. You debated rolling your hips back to get some friction, but it’s as if he was content with just stilling inside you for a bit. 

He enjoyed the little huff that you gave, pressing a kiss to your cheek with a smile. It wasn’t often Elias played these games with you, he was usually eager enough to please you. Give into all your whines and whims and desires. 

But he enjoyed playing with you sometimes. Working you up until you were a needy mess. He wasn’t a sadist by any means, no, but it could make him throb just to think about tears prickling those eyes of yours from all his teasing. 

He let your cunt warm his dick for a moment, your back to his chest, wrapped up under the covers with him. The heat radiating from you almost made it unbearable before he started to roll his hips. The relief washing over you in the form of a soft moan.

“Mhm…there now, let daddy have it” he whispered almost sweetly this time, indulging your needy patience by slowly sliding in and out of your weeping pussy. He held you in place with the arm around your chest, his free hand wrapped over your hip. 

And you did, let him have it. Let him fuck you slow and deep, at his own pace as he groaned quietly into your ear. You moaned unreservedly, your brain shutting down to only its basic senses. Only able to feel his hard cock plunging in and out of you, his hands grasping at you, the squelching sounds your cunt made as it leaked down to his balls. 

His big hand slid from your hip down to your thigh, pulling your leg up over his, angling himself deeper inside of you. If his tip prodding at that spot in your pussy wasn’t enough, his hand dipped even lower to stroke at your swollen, neglected clit.

Your back arched, mouth hanging open with an almost squeaky moan as he kept on fucking you, speeding up his pace just enough to make the bed beneath you rock a bit. You were practically drooling on your pillow, letting him maneuver you any which way he pleased, doing whatever he’d like to your pretty body.

He felt like the luckiest bastard alive, getting to have you like this instead of jerking himself off in the bathroom like he’d planned. Instead, your pussy was wrapped around his throbbing cock as he relentlessly thrusted it into you. Whispering filthy little praises that had you hurtling toward the edge.

“There she is…look at you, sweetie…so patient for your daddy, shit…so well behaved” he’d rasp, his voice faltering only a little when he felt how tightly you squeezed around him.

A moaning, drooling mess molded up against his body. Skin hot under the covers, head swimming with nothing but the sound of his voice and the heat between your legs, he briefly wondered if heaven did truly exist. In the form of you.

All it took was his fingers rubbing over your clit a few more times before you were creaming all over the older man’s cock with a whimpering sob. The feeling of his cum painting your walls followed soon after, the rare sound of a moan slipping from his mouth and right into your ear.

Maybe Elias Walker was only simple in theory.

[gunnrblze]

hiiii!!!! I just wanted to say that I literally adore your obsessed hesh & logan series, I was wondering if you could write a some jealous hc's for the boys who started to notice that reader is slowly drifting away from them and they started to hang out with other soldiers? if not, I completely understand!!! have a good rest of your day, lovely <3

Thank you my dear!!🤍 I’m so sorry this took a million decades for me to get around to lol, but here ya go :) Obsessed AND jealous Hesh and Logan? Oh me oh my

CW: jealousy and obsession of course, toxic behavior, some more slight stalker-ish behavior, nothing intense or anything, ur on base with the both of them in these scenarios again.

Hesh- oh dear, a jealous Hesh is an irritable one I think. I imagine he could hide it well, he’s probably used to hiding jealousy (looking at you Elias family dynamic👀), but it eats him alive, really.

Seeing his precious friend//lover/obsession slowly distance themselves is like a knife to the gut, and he knows exactly how that feels. He’s a little more snarky, a little more hotheaded at times than usual, because what’s going on? Has he done something? Said something to upset you? His darling from above, what’s gotten into you?

He won’t interfere much on your end, but he’d do anything if you’d just come back, sweetheart. Sit with him during mealtimes again instead of with whatever mangy soldiers there are on base. Take walks with him again, clean your guns or do whatever it is that you’ve slowly started to do with others.

His jealously is obvious to those that know him well. Logan and Elias can tell what his deal is, and most of the other Ghosts can tell something’s up with him regardless, but only he can truly understand how consumed his thoughts are. Thankfully he’s busy a lot, but his down time thoughts are riddled with doubt and worry. Was it really all in his head? Do you not appreciate him as much as he you? Are you toying with him? No, you’re too precious to do such a wicked thing, right? He knows you’re too sweet to upset him on purpose. Do you know what jealousy does to a person? Surely you do.

So maybe it’s not you, he reasons. It’s those mutts you’ve been hanging out with more. He doesn’t like those soldiers, regardless of what they have or haven’t done. Because they’ve taken you from him, in his jealousy addled mind. He can’t see it any other way. If they’re his subordinates, he uses intimidation to mess with them, whether he really means to or not. If they’re his superiors, he’s cold, distanced. Only doing and saying the absolute necessity to avoid any repercussions.

He’s smart though, he can handle this even if it bothers him. He may start to take after Logan a bit and follow you around base a little, see exactly what it is you’re doing. He’ll ‘accidentally’ start running into you more, start needing more from you, for work related reasons, and that’s it. If you go on ops with him, you’re basically attached at the hip, only letting you part if necessary. And his voice will still flood your ear on comms, so how far away are you really? You may drift, but he’ll be the life raft that pulls you right back to shore. His jealousy is like an infected wound, sometimes it starts to heal whenever he gets you alone, gets you in his sights, get your attention on him. But when you ultimately keep straying, it flares and festers.

You may be distancing yourself, he may see you with others more than with himself. But no matter how far you you go, you could never get that far, sweetheart. He’s always gonna care for you.

You’re in his heart, whether you wanna be or not.

Logan- now this one I think would let his jealousy shine a bit more. He’s a little younger, not as emotionally developed as Hesh just yet. But like his brother, he gets cranky. You brightened up his days and now they’ve been clouded by some other idiots. So when he sees his darling starting to stray, he does ask.

Asks if you’re okay, at first. He hasn’t seen you around as much, where’ve you been? Are you alright? Did he upset you? It may be the most you’ve heard him talk at once. It doesn’t matter what you say or don’t say, it doesn’t feel like enough of an explanation for him because you still distance yourself. And your mere presence is what he used to thrive on.

His thoughts may take that even more juvenile approach, and he makes it personal whether it is or not. You must hate him now, huh? He must’ve done something to you, angel. Why else would you hang out with people who don’t even know your favorite snacks and drinks or if you prefer sleeping with or without socks? He knows you, do they?

And he goes a little up the wall. Hearing your voice, the smell of you that wafted in the air start to disappear more and more was like someone dangling a carrot in front of him. He was annoyed by you, a bit. He couldn’t stay mad at you, not you, god no. But his feelings were hurt, and he wasn’t too sure how to handle it.

He asked Hesh of course, who gave him an answer that didn’t lead you back to him, ultimately, therefore he didn’t take any of it to heart. He missed you, and watching you around base with other soldiers made his jealousy grow. It felt like vines wrapping around his ribcage, ready to crush them all inward and puncture his poor heart with the shards.

Logan’s approach though is to insert himself once more into your life, he’s not shy. Having lunch with other soldiers? Now you’re having lunch with him too, invite or not. Training? Now you’re training with him. Now you’re walking back to the barracks with him, on ops with him, with him with him with him. He can’t help it.

He’ll still follow you around base like a poor puppy too, and maybe you know he does and maybe you don’t. Perhaps it’s from a distance, the man is a silent giant after all.

You’d have to explicitly tell him to back off if you wanted him too. Until then? You’re still his favorite person, darling, he’s just being a friend.

Even if you’re starting to lack in that department. Don’t worry, he’ll maintain it enough for the both of you.

[gunnrblze]

BEGGING SCREAMING CRYING for more david and logan hcs

maybe a first date...?

A little strike of creativity has hit for you, my dear. First date hcs for the Walker boys 🥰 (sfw)

Proposal; first date with Hesh would be the most stereotypical date ever, but in the best way.

He’s a hopeless romantic in my head, and his father raised a gentleman, so this combo will have him planning the whole date without you lifting a finger.

Shows up to your place and picks you up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Don’t worry about your car door, he’s got it. Don’t worry about opening it back up either to get out at the restaurant, he’s got that too. You really don’t have to lift a finger…hell, he’d carry you around bridal style everywhere if it were feasible. Wouldn’t mind being the knight to your prince/princess.

He’s so charming, so handsome and enticing that you struggle to focus on the meal and drinks he paid for during dinner. He wants to know you more, wants to know it all, so he lets you talk as much or as little as you’d like. He eats it all up regardless.

He takes you to a movie afterward and it’s no different. His hand slips into yours when you walk through the parking lot, guiding you and directing you naturally. A born leader, he can’t help but make sure that you’re all taken care of.

He pays for the tickets and whatever popcorn, candy, drinks, etc you’d like. Poor thing can’t contain his grin when you rest your tired head on his shoulder half way through the movie. Takes your hand in his again and rubs his thumb along the back of it. It’d be easier to focus had his cologne not made you so pleasantly dizzy. Doesn’t matter if you even drank at the restaurant, you’re drunk on him the whole evening.

He drives you back to your place before walking you to your front door. He’s almost a little teasing, holding your face in his hand, inching closer and closer while he asks if he can take you out again.

He doesn’t give you that kiss until your fogged up, love sick brain snaps out of it and gives an enthusiastic yes.

I think both men are probably quite adventurous, but where Hesh keeps it more lowkey, Logan perchance might lean the opposite way.

I like to think he takes you out for some classic fun. Now, you won’t be rid of that prince/princess treatment…birds of a feather after all.

Logan’s too much of a gentlemen too, although quieter and a little more reserved, especially so on a first date I think. But his interest is impossible to miss, he’s just as smitten as his brother would be.

Maybe he takes you out to an arcade. Buys more tickets/coins than the two of you could possibly ever need in one night, but he wants to watch you play as many games as you’d like.

His hand loves to rest on the small of your back or holding your own, guiding you through the hoards of people in the arcade. You know he’s swift too, leads like the soldier he is.

You two play nearly every game you can get your hands on. Including the air hockey, basketball, ski ball and claw machines they have. Maybe he flexes a little at the games he’s good at, just to see you smile. Who can blame him?

He’s competitive by nature, so you better be good at air hockey or he’ll stop at nothing to beat you, man won’t let you win lol. But he will win you a stuffed animal out of the claw machine, and then spend all his winnings letting you pick whatever dinky arcade prizes you want at the counter.

He takes you to an ice cream parlor afterwards, and it’s the same deal. Buys you whatever you want, whether it’s a simple cone or the most atrocious sundae on the menu. Spends a great deal of time trying not to stare at you so intently, but he can’t help it.

His arm is around your waist again when you two take a walk around the city, before he takes you back home. You get a better look at the way his eyes twinkle when he grasps your chin just lightly enough to guide your lips to his.

[gunnrblze]

Reunion

Silly little unserious fic about the guys finding you in No Man’s Land. Had to get this sit-com bs out of my head lol.

CW: slight suggestiveness, general talk of death ‘n stuff like that.

One probably wouldn’t assume that every day during a war would be the same, unpredictability and all. But that wasn’t quite your experience, considering you did the same thing every day. Every, single, day.

You wake up, curse men for being so stupid, for starting wars and killing one another for material things…scrounge for food and water, mourn your losses around noon, work on securing a shelter again for the impending nightfall, and tend to your more physical wounds, lest you get infected and all your hard work goes down the drain.

No Man’s Land was shitty, but you’d stumbled right into the cesspool itself, somehow. Your family passing away from whatever the fuck started falling out of the sky however many years ago was shitty too. Being left behind when you should’ve died already wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either. But you couldn’t focus on that too much when every turn you made could, literally, get you killed.

Armed fuckers everywhere, you were thankful you played too much hide and seek as a kid, cause you’d surely be dead if you didn’t somehow blend in with your bland surroundings. Unable to understand what anyone was even saying -doomed with trying to be quirky in Highschool and taking French instead of Spanish like everyone else wasn’t paying off, apparently-all you could understand from these dictator puppets was sí, nada, and rojo? You weren’t too keen on trying to understand why you kept hearing about stuff being red, maybe ignorance was bliss after all.

You’re not entirely sure though, it’s hard to pick up on spoken words when the blood rushing in your ears is the only sound you can hear, second to the gunshots and explosions booming everywhere. What were you even doing at this point? Surviving just so they didn’t give you a merciless ending? Was it worth it to live like this? You didn’t know that either, but you’d be damned if you simply gave up just because the going got tough. What is it that America’s so proud of? Freedom and bravery and what not?

Navigating abandoned and destroyed land for mere survival wasn’t on your lifelong bucket list, but here you were, sweating half to death behind a chunk of some random rubble in a desolated office building.

Shoveling the scraps of food you managed to find down your sore throat, eyes that had permanently grown in the back of your head always scanning for any lone beret who could knock your head off with a single bullet.

It wasn’t peachy or anything, but the sound of a whining dog made you forget all about it.

Shoving yourself as far behind the rubble as humanly possible, backpack squishing against the wall, you prayed -or talked, something like that, whatever- to whoever may be listening, that whatever Fed dog was sniffling around wouldn’t pick up your scent.

Unfortunately, your luck seemed to dwindle these days, as a massive German shepherd decided to knock over a nearby half broken-in door.

You took that time to suck down a breath, before figuring an escape route. You had no idea where your nationalist friends loomed, so like always, you hoped that crawling from post to post would keep you hidden for long enough.

As quietly as you could on broken chunks of tile, you crawled out from behind said chunk of rubble, to an adjacent one a few feet away. The sound of footsteps and distant voices ripped through any ounce of self confidence you’d gained, and you went back to the blinding fear for a moment. White hot and, confusing? Why weren’t they speaking Spanish?

“Shouldn’t be anybody round, place is trashed, boys” a deep, older sounding voice echoed. No, no, you don’t like the sound of that at all. You hoped maybe whoever this guy was talking to would agree, but alas, it seemed there was always a voice of bigger reason.

“I dunno, dad…Riley’s picking something up I think” his friend, or son apparently, shot back.

Riley? The furry battering ram? Maybe that was good…? These guys didn’t seem to be of Federation influence, perhaps they’d hear you out at least before splattering the insides of your skull onto the grimy tile.

The little pitter patter of dog paws got closer in range, and it made all the random joint aches and pains in your body more pronounced, bones vibrating with fear once you realized you couldn’t get out of this building. The knife you pulled from your bag only shook pathetically in your hand, more of a damn fidget toy than anything you could defend yourself with at this point.

Shoved back into a near corner, you already clocked the two voices, and there had to be more ‘boys’ with them, unless of course the older voice was including their door toppling canine in that group address.

“What is it, Riley? Go get it” the second guy spoke again, his distant words sending an even bigger pang of fear through your chest. Go get it. Go get you.

Apparently, Riley’s a good boy, because moments later the dog was sneaking right in front of your makeshift hideout. Barking ensued and it made you flinch on instinct, eyes wide as you heard all sorts of footsteps jogging your way. You could only sit there, backing yourself further into the corner, crouched behind the rubble as you stared into the canines beady eyes.

No Federation symbol on his little vest, though. Not that you could really process that, before a large man with a stupid little green beanie on came into view. The rifle in his grip didn’t phase you much anymore, only the fact that he was pointing it in your vicinity and that he donned a certain look on his face did.

You didn’t have much access to mirrors these days, but you knew being stuck in this desecrated, excuse for a city left you looking rather…gross. But this wasn’t that kind of look, of course.

“What the hell?” Beanie said a little louder than you preferred. “Who are you?” He followed up with, lowering his little killing machine when he seemed to deny your presence as an immediate threat.

If that broad ass statement wasn’t enough, the near geriatric sounding man you heard first ran up right next to him, followed by a blonder man that looked a little bit younger than Beanie himself.

You didn’t respond, naturally, what the fuck do you say to three armed men and their yapping German shepherd? They stared at you like a science experiment, before dad, you presume, spoke directly.

“What are you doing here? Where’d ya come from, kid?” His voice was sharper and more harsh than you typically enjoyed, but they didn’t seem to want to turn you to dust just yet.

It appeared they clocked the way your eyes flitted from corner to corner, wall to wall and door to door, your body screaming at you to run, but paralyzed with fear, and the harsh reality that you couldn’t escape these three.

“Relax, we won’t hurt you” Beanie so kindly assisted, seeming to understand your predicament a bit more. You didn’t trust your sore throat to speak, so you gulped instead, shaking like a leaf with that hunting knife in your grip while you picked up on more voices through their radio chatter.

They weren’t Federation, thank god, but that was almost just as scary. Because you didn’t know who they were yet, and they seemed to be quite interested in figuring you out. Dressed to the nines in tactical gear, obviously soldiers with the massive guns and all. American, with the west coast lilt that didn’t actually quell your fear, just create another problem for you to solve with the little resources you had.

You didn’t like the tone of the Geriatrics voice too much, he was understandably suspicious of you as he told you to put the knife down. Your body moved on its own accord, sheathing it in your backpack as you fully came to the realization that these people decided what happened now. Beanie asked more cursory questions, arms crossed like the brutes they seemed to be, and you feebly explained you were lost.

Lost. An idiotic answer. Stranded in No Man’s Land, you were obviously out of your element, due to the simple fact you were still alive and kicking it, disheveled as you were.

You weren’t keen on giving them your name, and Blondie seemed to understand that before you went silent at the question, nudging Beanie and sending some kind of telepathic message to him.

“Dad, they’re obviously not supposed to be here, we’ll just take them back to base, get them outta here at least?” Beanie said, his own uncertainty making the empty pit in your stomach blossom. Dad seemed to agree, but gave you a side eye that your own mother couldn’t even dole out that well.

You relented more quickly than any of you thought you would, including yourself. You knew it was game over the moment Riley The Dog spotted you. They seemed to hash out a plan rather immediately, and the idea of being helped, even by strangers, did seem a bit deserving on your end.

Your creaky knees burned as you stood up, tentative and unsure about this arrangement, despite your desperate need for assistance. You weren’t deciding to go back to this ‘base’ with them, you were being led back to this base with them. Beanie explained that they’re Army, and it still didn’t quite help. You shuffled along the split flooring of your abandoned little office shelter, checking every exit again, wondering about that escape shot one more time.

Blondie clocked you again though, apparently the silent and observant type, because he nudged his old man, who swiftly turned to you, his eyes expressing an unspoken knowledge. The knowledge that you were beyond outnumbered.

“We’ll get you back to our base, get you squared away from there” he said as if it were that simple, clearly trying not to bug out at the knowledge that someone survived all this. You wanted to explain there was no where to square you off to. That you were alone, but they seemed to already know that. They didn’t ask nearly enough questions, you thought. But then again, you didn’t have much to expand on.

The three of them moved like a unit. Water flowing through oil, smooth and sure, despite your awkward presence lingering shortly behind Geriatric, his offspring nearing either side of you. Caging you in. Riley The Dog seemed to skip ahead, content with scoping things out for them first.

Apparently, three -four- isn’t quite a party yet though, because two other sets of heavy footsteps sounded outside the building, the chatter on their radios picking up more. You hadn’t really listened to what Geriatric muttered into said radio when they’d first found you, too busy trying to tame your nervous system.

But apparently they valued a buddy system.

Two men, just as large and brutish, rounded the corner as soon as the four of you walked out of that broken down door, courtesy of the shepherd that trotted off to god knows where.

They seemed both surprised and unsurprised to see you. Expecting your tagging along back to base, from what you could tell, but still unprepared to witness a living civilian in No Man’s Land.

“What’s their name?” The bald one asked, a gruff in his voice that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. That’s how you knew your brain was scrambled, finding these square ass men attractive even in the slightest, when all they were offering was a little ‘help’ during arguably the worst time of your life, was a bit insane.

But you’d gone a little insane, so maybe it was understandable.

After Geriatric stepped off to the side with Baldy and the dude in the mask, whatever that get up was about, you only heard his more hushed voice. Discussing the pertinent problem you seemed to create just by existing.

The twin towers idled next to you, sharing silent looks as they combed over your appearance. Your hair ratty and clothes dirty, covering your battered up skin well enough, some stray cuts and scrapes that you weren’t able to take nearly good enough care of made you look straight out of a survivalist horror film. Donning a suspicious blood stain on the waistband of your cargo shorts, something everyone seemed to be thankfully ignoring.

Until now, at least.

“Are you hurt?” Beanie asked with some kind of concern, motioning to your blood stained pants that’d given you away long before you could even stand up and flaunt your crooked gait.

Your blank stare made everyone fall flat for a moment, all five men standing like robots, looks being shared and eyebrows being raised. Obviously you were fucking hurt, but not enough to mention it, in your opinion.

Your mere head shake didn’t extinguish Beanie and Blondies curiosity though, but their father seemed to want to get the show on the road, so long as you could actually walk down said road.

You trudged behind the five of them, making off putting eye contact with the masked one for a moment, his eyes lighting a path of unease down your spine, whether he meant to or not.

They cut off into the woods shortly after exiting the blown-to-bits plaza you’d wandered into. Beanie seemed to be concerned with your health, asking another time if you were sure you could walk. You’d be annoyed if it weren’t for the obvious hobbling and coughing you were doing with every step.

You insisted though, what was the alternative? One of the avengers would just haul you over their shoulder until you arrived on the scene where this ‘Kick’ fucker was apparently waiting for you all?

Yes, apparently so.

“Hesh, help them, son” the Geriatric called out without even turning around. First you noticed the name that was finally given up. Hesh didn’t sound any less silly than Beanie in your head, but you were forced to digress when said man stopped and turned to you, pointing to his back.

Apparently the grimace on your face was noticeable, a smirk cracking on his lips as he slung his backpack off, handing it to Blondie whose arm was already outstretched, standing to the other side of you.

“Familiar with the piggy back ride? We’ll be walking for a while, and you’ve clearly got something wrong under that bloodstain” he added as he motioned to your stained waistband, as if his knowing look wasn’t enough.

You felt silly, felt even sillier when your knee jerk reaction was the most petulant eye roll you’d ever given. But you found yourself digressing again. The large cut on your hipbone hurt too much to keep going like this. So you stepped closer as he squatted down, and climbed on his back like a monkey.

It wasn’t really funny, nothing about the situation was, but the absurdity made you roll your eyes again, earning a smirk from Blondie who picked right back up with the trek. In any other circumstance, you’d probably feel a stir down south with the way this man held onto you. Hands cupped under the backs of your knees to hold you up, was as innocent as innocent could be.

But again, you’d gone a little off your rocker the last several months, so being chest to back with a hot sweaty soldier who carried you like you were a sack of flour almost did something to you.

The three musketeers up ahead seemed to be chatting more, Baldy with a near permanent scowl on his face as the six of you moved through this too warm thatch of forestry. The masked one was quiet as he spoke to their Ringmaster, but not as quiet as Blondie was, who hadn’t even so much as muttered anything yet.

You willfully ignored all the aches and pains in your body up until now. The reprieve of being carried piggy back took pressure off your brittled bones and squeaky ass joints. Hesh didn’t seem to sweat having your weight on his back until the terrain got a bit more hilly.

Your insistence that you could walk again on your own was shut up very quickly by a shush from grumpy dwarf up ahead, everyone stopping at once. You peeked above Hesh’s head some more, only to see a group of berets in the distance. That not so funny feeling returning to your stomach, gut wrenching and definitely ruining the more pleasant one that’d somehow bloomed.

Your head shot down on instinct, wrapping yourself more around the green giant you were hanging off of, who seemed to have the same idea, securing your legs further around his waist as he crouched down.

Everything was a bit of a blur from then on, yelling and guns going off, your last view being the sunlight shining through the tree tops before you and Hesh fell over as a unit.

Not even cognizant enough to feel the intense ache on the back of your head, fortunately. Just a hand around your scraggly wrist and another somewhere near your waist.

And that goddamned dog barking.