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her-satanic-wiles · 4 months

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Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst naked.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to this nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

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mistydeyes · 1 year

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Hi izzie,can you write what it would be like if one of soaps cousins that’s in SAS but often has time to visit the base and is dating 141 members

fem reader preferably

thank you so much for submitting! so sorry it took a hot minute for me to get to this but i hope you enjoy!

the invasion of the scots

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summary: As you walked into the briefing for your latest co-op mission with Task Force 141, all eyes were on you. Usually, this wasn't out of the ordinary as you were one of the first women to complete the full selection process for the SAS and your reputation preceded you. However, this was different as your gaze shifted from your surprised cousin and your terrified boyfriend.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader (codename: Peitho)

warnings: SWEARING

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"I'll see you all tomorrow at 08:00 for a briefing," Price announced as everyone exited the training room, "we might see some familiar faces, the SAS is loaning us some of their best." As they all walked to the showers, Soap just happened to be walking with the exhausted Ghost. "Have a cousin in the SAS wonder if she'll be there!" he hummed happily, "haven't seen her in ages." Simon nodded and hoped his suspicions would be wrong tomorrow. He turned on the shower and sat under the cold water for a moment. Out of the handful of women that was in the SAS, the chances of it being you were slim but never 0.

"Hey Peitho, are you ready to meet the renowned 141?" your friend joked as you exited your vehicle. "Just another room of sweaty men, it's like a basic Tuesday for me," you replied and jokingly punched his arm. "But you only hear whispers about these guys, no one doesn't even know how many of them there are." "I'll take my chances, Haystack," you muttered and you continued to follow your captain to the briefing room. As you walked through the linoleum hallways, you could feel the stares everyone was giving you. "Jesus, it's like they've never seen a woman before," you scoffed and Haystack turned to you. "It's not every day someone sees a legend like you." You smiled slightly at his compliment. It had been a few years since your big accomplishment. You and another woman had been the first to ever complete the full selection process. It was daunting to experience the grueling exercises and jeers of the other men but you would smile and take what was thrown at you. "I thought this was selection not a training run for Royal Navy," you'd spit and everyone backed off.

"Play nice," your captain warned before entering the door. You followed right behind him and walked to his right. "As promised Price, here's the best of the best," he announced as he gestured to the four of you. "Here we have, Buccaneer," everyone's gaze turned to the stoic man who stood at 6'7'', his dark hands and arms glistened with taupe-colored, healed scars. "Next there's Typhoon," and again, everyone's eyes shifted to the man who stood shorter than Buccaneer but whose body was pure muscle. He gave a small wave, followed by a crazed smirk. "Next, there's Haystack," your close friend walked forward as his pale skin and bleached hair practically blended into the wall, "got the reputation of being dead weight but he'll be the best combat medic you'll ever need." "Finally," you knew it was your turn and you stood forward, slightly.

You took a look around the room and noticed the men looking back up at you and their files. However, as your eyes drifted to the left, you could feel your eyes widen with recognition. There sat your cousin, you knew he was in the British Army but didn't realize he rose to this caliber. He had a slight smile on his face as he looked at you. However, your familial reunion would have to wait as you looked over at the broad man wearing a face mask. Although his face was obscured, you would recognize his figure and eyes anywhere. In fact, it was the one that was on top of you in bed a month ago. You swallowed as you both locked eyes. Why the fuck was Simon Riley here?

Your revelations were disrupted as your Captain continued his introductions. "We have, Peitho, one of the best women to ever make it out of selection. Don't even try anything with that one, she'll take you out before you can even utter a word," he joked and you nodded at his statement. "I assume you've all seen what they can do, I've given you our best hijacker, weapon specialist, combat medic, and covert operations specialist," he concluded and the floor was all Price's. "Thank you, Captain, they'll do great," he said confidently and the room boomed with his voice, "they can get to know my men on the plane." At this, everyone took a seat. You sat on the opposite end of Simon and Johnny, but you could feel their eyes on you. "Now for the debrief," Price directed and dimmed the lights to illuminate the large monitor on the display.

"I expect you all to review the floor plans our intel has provided," he directed as Sergeant Garrick yawned, "we will be leaving at 06:00 in two days." "Happy reading," Haystack commented as you both walked towards the exit. Before you could leave, Johnny placed a strong arm around your shoulders. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, "Haven't seen you in ages." You smiled up at him and reached a hand to ruffle his short, dark hair. "Pleasure seeing you again," you replied, "you're far from the lad who went to those raves." You both shared a smile as you caught up and exchanged some stories from the last few years. "Your mam said you were in the SAS, but I didn't know you were the one who completed the selection," he continued. "Told her not to brag," you replied, remembering how talkative your mother was especially when it came to her only daughter. Before you could continue, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You both turned and realized you were blocking the exit for Simon.

"Sorry about that, Simon," you said, almost instinctively. As the words tumbled out of your mouth, you realized the mistake you had made. "Simon?" Johnny questioned and you both knew you were doomed, "Y/N, how do you know Lt?" Fuck. Me. you thought internally as Simon's eyes shot to yours in a panic. "Um, some out-of-office relations," you choked out and before Simon could exit, Johnny grabbed his arm. "You fucking bastard," he muttered, "so this is where you've been spending your leave?" The situation was escalating as Simon escaped his grasp and crossed his arms over his chest. "My personal life is none of your business, Sergeant," he commanded and Johnny balled his hands into tight fists. "It does when it's my cousin!" he practically shouted and you hoped no one could hear the commotion.

"Johnny, calm down," you directed, "I had no idea, Simon even worked with you. It's only been 6 months since we met." Before anyone could continue, Captain Price stopped in the doorway. "Hey!" he boomed, "we have a mission in 36 hours, get on it." You all nodded like scolded children and began to make your way back to your quarters. Before you could part, you gave Simon a quick hug and turned to Johnny. He still had the same angered look on his face and you rolled your eyes. "Get over it, little Johnny boy," you teased at his childhood nickname and he looked away. "Fine, but you know there are serious implications of pumpin' a superior," he mumbled. He walked off and you looked back at Simon. "Surprise, love?" you said almost questioningly before Simon led you to his quarters to “review” the floor plans.

As you sat wedged between Simon and Johnny, you were getting to know Sergeant Garrick or Gaz as he preferred. "So Pietho like the Greek goddess?" he asked and you nodded. "Goddess of persuasion and seduction," you smiled before Simon hit your thigh lightly. "I think I'm gonna be sick," Johnny moaned and Gaz just looked even more confused.

#cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley angst #madebyizzie #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #izzie is writing

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allaboutnayeli · 18 days

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Would you be able to do a ashley sanchez fic please. Maybe they've been dating for while and reader is always getting teased when she'll propose and finally does

AT LAST | a.sanchez x reader

summary: you make ashley your fiancée, finally.

author notes: finally getting to this request! this is actually so cute so thanks anon. also um.. i hit 800 followers? that's crazy but thanks yall 💞 enjoy the fic!

contains: ashley sanchez x reader, ncc!ashley, tons of fluff, lesbians are dumbasses, this takes place in a different reality where ashley is still getting call-ups to the national team 🥹 this isn't relevant.. i just miss usa ash

playing prove it by 21 savage ft summer walker 🎵

"four years and no ring? you should dump her, ash," kerolin says as she walks into the locker room. you are quick to give her the middle finger. groaning in annoyance when she gives you the middle finger right back.

ashley laughs like she always does at the teasing. everyone's favorite pastime is to tease you about not proposing to ashley quick enough. you two have been together for four years, almost five now, and still no proposal in sight. it's not like you don't want to propose, you're just waiting for the right time.

kerolin stirred up everyone else with the teasing. half of the team is in the locker room, getting ready to leave after a long training session. they don't have enough energy to play around like usual, but have enough energy to tease you; great.

"i agree with kerolin. you really should dump her," dani gives ashley's shoulder a playfully sympathic pat on the shoulder. the blonde smiles and shakes her head, focusing most of her attention on changing her cleats. you try to throw a waterbottle at dani, but she dodges it then sticks her tongue out at you.

the usual playful comments are thrown around about how "you're making her wait too long" and "if you need some tips, you could just ask."

you make sure to internally write down every word, so you can keep this in mind when they ask you for favors.

"whatever. why is it my job to propose and not ashley's?" you say in defense, standing to go over to ashley who's now changed. you peck her cheek as you pull her close. she says a response before anyone else could, "because i pursued everything else in this relationship."

you let out a gasp of shock that makes everyone else laugh.

"great. now even my own girlfriend is against me. thanks for being bad influences, guys." you gently pinch ashley's side before pulling away from her. the blonde tries to hit you, but you dodge easily. instead you grab her hand and push her to sit down in her cubby.

cortnee is quick to get back to teasing you, "we aren't bad influences, ashley is right. wasn't she the first to ask you out? and the first one to ask to be girlfriends? and also the first one to ask move in together? sounds like she's making all the decisions in the relationship."

you regret yapping about your entire relationship story to your teammates at that one team outing when you were drunk (but you can't really blame yourself when ashley was looking so good that night and you suddenly felt the urge to express your love for her). regardless, you can't even say anything back because she's right.

"whatever," you say. you let go of ashley's hands, going to grab her bag. "can we go?" you look at ashley. the blonde stands, going to link arms with you.

"running away from your problems is cute of you, y/n," you hear kerolin say as you grab your bag as well before walking out with ashley.

you make sure to give her a middle finger on the way out.

on the drive home, your mind blocks out the sabrina carpenter ashley is blasting as it drifts. the teasing is bothering you more than you like to admit. even though you know it is all in good fun, still, that pressure from the comments lingers. it's not like you haven't thought of making ashley your wife. you're smitten with the woman. she could ask you to get the moon for her, and you'll find a way. might even grab an asteroid on the way as an extra gift. she owns your heart; that's a known fact.

proposing has been on your mind and in your heart for a long while. you will never admit this, but you thought about proposing since you two's first anniversary, but didn't want to be one of those lesbians who go too fast.

this year is a perfect time, and you want to propose soon, but you just don't know how or where or the exact day.

you're determined to figure all this out. ashley deserves a perfect proposal.

and you know just the person to help out.

"a beach proposal is cliché and the waves would ruin it," you're currently sitting across from trinity at this cute brunch place you found. getting trinity to come from washington d.c. mid-season was a struggle, but when you told her that you were ready to propose, she booked the first flight to north carolina.

trinity rolls her eyes, "beach proposals are cliché because they're cute!"

"still a cliché and ashley deserves better than that," you say. trinity, and you have been debating on where to propose. she suggested beach at the number one choice, then used a hotel proposal as her second choice. you quickly disagreed with both; beach is too cliché and hotel feels too impersonal.

trinity sighs, "you have been shooting down all of my ideas this entire time. why even have me come all the way here and not use my opinions?"

"not my fault if your opinions are wrong." you shake your head as the forward frowns at you.

"alright, i'm sorry. i just want everything to be perfect. she deserves the best," you sip some of your orange juice to calm your nerves. trinity gives you a look of understanding. it's obvious you just want to not mess this up. why else would you have ashley's bestfriend fly out?

"maybe.." trinity trails off just to take a bite of her alfredo, "you could do it at home?"

it's like a switch is flipped in your mind; of course, a proposal at home makes complete sense.

after trinity's suggestion, the pieces of the plan fall into place like a puzzle.

the location will be at you and ashley's home, you needed carnations and white chocolate, a simple silver band with ashley's intials needs to be made, and you have to work on your speech.

ashley has always been low-key. she's the one who wanted to soft launch your relationship at first, and still, you two aren't over the top with showing things off. everyone knew yall were together, and everyone of any importance knew how much you guys loved eachother, that's all that matters.

trinity had to fly back to washington d.c. to prepare for an upcoming match, so she couldn't distract ashley on the day you wanted to propose. instead, the day after the match against kansas city current you get denise and bianca to take ashley out for dinner. you made some excuse about "not feeling well" when ashley asked why you weren't coming then had to convince her to just attend the dinner when she wanted to stay and take care of you.

at last, you start getting the house ready. firstly, you grab the bouquets of carnations that you hid in the guest room that ashley never goes into. even though it is cliché, you spread the petals on the floor, so they lead into the master bedroom. then you make a heart with the petals on the bed.

you step back to make sure the heart looks at least decent, smiling when you see it's perfect.

the next step in your plan, you go to grab the box of white chocolate you hid in the back of the fridge. you may have took of one piece, but it's fine, you're the one planning this all.

you place the box of chocolates in the middle of the flower heart. you check the time on your phone and see that you have forty minutes left to get ready.

everything is set up, so all you really need to do is shower, change, and make sure your speech is good. also that you didn't forget where the ring is.

after a good ten minute shower, you change into some black dress pants and a loose white dress shirt. you didn't want to overdo it as this is supposed to be lowkey, but still you wanted to look nice. you check your phone to see ashley texted that they are almost finished and she will be dropped off soon.

you spend the last thirty minutes doing the finishing touches on the lil display you did and going over what you wanted to say. the gorgeous silver band you got customized sits nicely in the velvet case you got with it.

finally, you hear the front door open. you hear the soft footsteps of ashley as she walks through the house, softly calling your name.

"in our room, baby," you shout. a smile graces your lips when she steps inside.

ashley gives you a surprised look, her eyes glancing from you to the flower petals to the bed.

"what is all this?" she walks closer to you. when she's close enough, you pull her close by her hips.

"a surprise.." you say before kissing her. she melts into the kiss easily, her arms finding their home around your waist. every time you kiss ashley, the only word you can use to describe it is magnetic. it's so hard for you to pull away from her just to breathe, but you have to. you need to do what you have been meaning to do for a long while.

"grab the chocolate, babe. it's for you," you let go of her. ashley looks at you, then the box of chocolates on the bed before walking over to the bed. she picks up the box, smiling when she opens it to reveal the white chocolate inside.

slowly, she turns to face you, still looking at the chocolate as she says, "baby.. i don't-"

when her gaze lands on you, she sees you down on one knee, a small velvet case in your hand that's open with a silver ring sitting nice and pretty in it.

ashley damn near drops the chocolate, but is able to throw it on the bed before she starts tearing up.

"baby-" she starts, but you interrupt her.

"let me talk first. i swear it's worth it," you smile. laughing when she giggles in between trying to catch her breath.

you sigh then give ashley the biggest smile you are able to do, just to cover up your nerves.

"i know you been waiting for this for a while now, and i'm sorry.. i just love you so much, i wanted it to be perfect because you deserve all the good things in this world. i remember the first time we met, and i just couldn't stay away from you. at the time, i didn't get why i was so attracted to you, but i figured that out a long while ago; you're special, ashley. i don't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone, but you, so ashley sanchez, will you marry me?"

"yes! of course," ashley says. you stand, and she immediately jumps into your arms. after a long hug, she pulls away just to kiss you.

"no more teasing for me then?" you say when ashley pulls away. she laughs before kissing you again.

there was definitely no more teasing after that.

author notes: finally posted another fic 😍 i thought this was bad, but it turned out cute!

#ashley sanchez x reader #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fluff

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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months

Text

Yandere Baki Head Canon: Let’s Play A Game

Yandere Reverse Baki Harem x Afab fighter Reader

Otome Game AU

TW: unhealthy behavior, yandere themes, stalking, obsession, HORROR, etc

You, a famous fighter, had accidentally died in a horrific car accident by saving the life of a child that was supposed to pass away. Luckily, a deity had taken pity on you and decided to give you a second chance at life. One where you must play a game in order to go back to your world. Romance five of the male leads and you’ll be able to return to your world. Katsumi Orochi, Baki Hanma, Kaioh Retsu, Hanayama Kaoru, and Jack Hanma are the five main males you must romance in order to go home but the deity had thrown in some other mystery men just for shits and giggles. He even gave you a house that’s exactly like your old one! Just don’t invite anyone over… Sounds simple enough right? Wrong. How were you to know these emotionally constipated men have never experienced love before?

Katsumi Orochi

The first man you met when you landed in this strange world. His eyes were wide when you suddenly appeared in the rain before him. What on earth was a woman doing in the rain by herself? He rushes over with his umbrella to place it over your head. He’s surprised by how attractive you are. How soft you look… he doesn’t realize he’s staring until you place your hands over his cheek and smile at him.

There was a bar above his head that rapidly began to grow pink when you touched him. He must be one of the male leads you had to romance… perfect!

“I’m a bit lost… can you help me?” Katsumi was quick to offer you his coat when he saw you shiver. There was something almost magical about you… he was a moth to your flame.

“Of course, here. Let’s head into the dojo.” Katsumi ushered you into Shinshinkai while the rain continued to pour. He was immediately smitten with you.

Katsumi offers you a Karate uniform to wear since your clothes are wet. The two of you share small talk and he’s excited to learn that you’re a practitioner of taekwondo. You were pretty and you could fight? It must have been destiny for the two of you to meet!

He by far was the easiest to romance or so you thought… poor you had gotten a little in over your head about this particular man. He’s so obsessive and delusional. A horrible combination but one he developed due to dedicating his entire life to karate.

Katsumi offered free training at Shinshinkai and he was always eager to spar with you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wrestle with you or to take you out to eat after training. You didn’t notice the way he’d slowly become more and more touchy. Nor did you notice how weird he was when babies were around.

“Don’t you think that baby is so cute?” Katsumi asked when a baby was sat with its mother in a table near the two of you. The baby was super cute with their chubby cheeks. “(Your name), would you ever want to have kids?”

And you stupidly told this man yes… you shared how you wanted to get married one day and have kids that hopefully wanted to be marital artists. You stupid girl! You didn’t even notice the obsession that lied behind his chocolate eyes or the lingering touches whenever he’d pin you to the floor beneath him when you sparred. Not until it was too late. Not until you’re introduced to his parents as his future wife. And there no way to run from him. He has over a million members at Shinshinkai and they’d hunt you down if you ever tried to escape from your doting fiancé.

Hanayama Kaoru

Once you had settled into your house (and carefully made sure not to invite the overly friendly Katsumi over), you ran into him on the street. It was just a chance meeting, but it was one that caught Hanayama by surprise. You had bumped into him and knocked his cigar onto him.

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t looking where I was going-“ You were shocked to see such a tall man covered in scars. The heart bar above his head was slightly pink by the small encounter with him. Neither one of you looked away from each other’s eyes.

Hanayama nodded his head and went to turn away but he was surprised when he heard your voice again. “You have ashes all over your jacket… please let me at least brush you off.” Hanayama blushed when you quickly brushed the ashes off him without his answer. How brazen of you! He’s never been hit on first like this…

When you walk away, you noticed his romance bar is already at twenty percent. Perhaps you’d be able to go home sooner than you thought if you kept this up?

A shame you didn’t notice the blush on Hanayama’s face. He’s never been so excited in his life… and now it was your problem. How were you to know how possessive he was?

He was a silent presence compared to the chatty Katsumi and Baki. He would randomly sit beside you when you weren’t preoccupied by the other men which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing if he didn’t stare at you. His gaze was unnerving and terrifying. Yet you must accept him in order to go home. So you tolerated his presence with gentle smiles and one sided small talk. You didn’t realize how much Hanayama truly enjoyed your company.

He began to bring you gifts. Roses, jewelry, and clothing. Loud gestures of adoration despite his stoic exterior. You’d always thank him with a smile because his romance bar would rise with each gift… but his pink bar was the first to reach a blood red. Why was his bar so red? And why did you always feel as if someone was watching you?

His gifts began to become inappropriate. Rather than regular clothes, he’d gift you red, black, and violet lingerie. And then it was chocolates and invitations to fancy dinners where oysters were almost always served. You were starting to become really scared when you found out what his occupation was. How were you to know he was a yakuza boss?! And there was no escape from Hanayama, he was too powerful and he was too obsessed with you to share you.

Baki Hanma

You were on a jog when you met the twenty year old. He was sitting on a bench all alone looking so down. The heart bar above his head was a depressing shade of blue. Oh no! Why did he look so sad?

Baki was shocked when you sat beside him with a smile. You offer him your hand to introduce yourself and you offered to listen to him since he looked so sad. He instantly clung to you like a tick. You were so warm and sweet… he adored it. He’s never had affection like this since his ex girlfriend… you’re warm like a mom!

You pat Baki’s head as he cries in your arms. You’re shocked by how his heart bar sky rockets to a sixty percent with this small interaction. Holy smokes! You were crushing this game!

You exchanged numbers with him and offered him solace so kindly. Baki was so thrilled to finally have someone care about him. It was what he has always wanted…

Baki spent almost as much time with you as Katsumi did. The two friendly men running around you like little kids as they excitedly would take you on lots of dates. It was a little overwhelming.

But you didn’t think Baki would be so clingy… please don’t leave him! Don’t leave him, he’d do anything for you! Please only look at him! Love him!

Jack Hanma

The hardest to romance. This man was mean. Mean as hell. He had no interest in you whatsoever, he only had his goal of strength in mind. Jack constantly rebuffed you, but your persistence began to wear down his walls

Why did you insist on being so close to him anyways? He was a mess. He was always sweaty and he would train to the point of incontinence… did you have a piss kink? You were weird as hell and he didn’t like the way the other fighters hovered around you like helicopters. You were nothing special… at least that’s what he told himself until he overheard you defend him when someone bad mouthed him.

“Sure Jack can be a little rough around the edges, but he works harder than any of you!” Jack clenched his jaw when he heard you berate some of the fighters who commented on his methods for strength. “You don’t have half of what it takes to want to be the best.” Your words made something flutter in his heart. It was a weird feeling but it wasn’t something entirely unwelcomed.

Jack’s presence usually sent the other men running away with their tails between their legs but he began to like the way you smiled so warmly at him. For the first time in years, someone didn’t look at him like he was a monster. And he didn’t ever want you to disappear. No. Jack wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you. He’d rather die.

You became as important to him as his journey to strength. You were his one and only friend. His companion. It didn’t matter to him that there were others. Jack was just happy to have you by his side.

Jack enjoyed how you’d sit beside him whenever he sat alone or how you’d occasionally lean on him when it was cold. Jack slowly warmed up to you and his romance bar slowly began to rise. He took the longest to romance out of all the others but he’s the most normal out of all of them. Jack rarely sought you out unless he had a gut feeling you needed him. Jack slowly began to become easier to talk to… and you made the mistake of venting to him. Of showing him your most vulnerable side.

So when he saw you crying for the first time about how weird everyone was to you, something in him snapped. How dare they make you uncomfortable. How dare they make you cry! And now you realized just how over protective Jack was of you…

And from that day forth, Jack began to protect you. He was like a giant, blonde tank that shoved the other men out of the way. You didn’t have to worry anymore. Jack would protect you!

Kaioh Retsu

You met him at the dojo. Retsu was very nice to you. He was a voice of reason and usually would step between you and Katsumi when he noticed Katsumi being particularly weird to you.

You’d spar with Retsu and you were always awestruck by his Kenpo. Retsu enjoyed your compliments and even taught you some Kenpo. He was thrilled that someone was interested in his martial art. To have it be appreciated.

His romance bar was hidden from you, which was strange. Occasionally it would pop up with a high percentage but then it would fade into obscurity. Retsu would always give you a soft smile and reassure you whenever you were particularly overwhelmed. He was a really good friend.

Retsu was easy to talk to and he made the best tea. And Retsu always had a logical response whenever you vented about the other men. You felt safe with Retsu… like you could trust him.

And so you shared with him the truth of you situation. Which made the Chinese man sympathize with you. He’d help you get home!

A shame you didn’t realize how he secretly manipulated you. How he pretended to be reasonable and level headed. He used his maturity and kindness to lower your guard but he didn’t realize just how much you were hiding. You’re from another world? That would explain why you were so unique compared to everyone else in this world of his… Retsu found you fascinating.

Now Retsu was going to help you leave this world… but he was going with you. You entrusted him with such precious information and didn’t he deserve a reward for helping you?

Pickle

A wild card. You will only meet him if you decide to go hiking on a Thursday.

You were not supposed to meet him but you did. On a complete accident too. You decided to go on a hike in the forest to get away from your… suitors.

He was just hunting in the forest when he noticed you. And he was curious about you. He began to follow you around like a lost dog. It would take a few miles of hiking to notice him but once you did, you were very puzzled. Who was this guy and why was his romance bar red from the get go? And that’s when you finally put together that the red bars that were above all the men you have been around meant danger.

Pickle was quick to snatch you up in his arms but rather than attack you, he sniffed you. He was surprised to smell all those fighters he’s fought on you! It fascinated him.

You were quick to escape him and run but he chased after you. He was so happy to play! If he caught you, could he keep you? Pickle would like a mate.

A shame Baki was waiting for you at the edge of the forest. The redhead glared at Pickle who began to throw a tantrum. No fair! Pickle wanted to play with you too! To keep you and to mate with you! That wasn’t fair.

Now you didn’t leave the city often because Pickle was always watching… always waiting to strike. For you had caught his eye.

Hector Doyle

Another wild card. You weren’t supposed to meet him but you did at the dojo. He was supposedly a reformed convict, one that didn’t have much of an interest in you… at first.

Doyle was kind of mean but in a snarky way. He always had something smart to say whenever you’d talk to Katsumi. You thought he was gay when you first met him since he liked Katsumi so much. But after you got to know him, you realized he was just attached to the Karateka since he defeated him.

Doyle slowly opened up to you since you were a constant presence in Katsumi’s life. You were very nice to him despite his sharp tongue so Doyle respected you. The two of you slowly became friends… but you constantly had to stop him from stealing products from the mall. Doyle had sticky fingers despite being blind. He insisted he knew the quality of what he took by the way it smelled and felt in his fingers. It was kind of silly.

Doyle’s romance bar slowly rises up the more you go out with him. He’s secretly a softie beneath his rough exterior. (If you’re a touchy person, it’ll shoot up faster. Doyle is easily flustered). Doyle is also very jealous of Katsumi

You seemed to make his friend happy so he was happy with you… until he noticed a change in Katsumi. The Karateka was obsessed with you to the point it was concerning. At least in the way Katsumi spoke of you, since Doyle was blind.

“Katsumi told everyone that you’re his fiancée but I never heard you talk about it.” Doyle whispered to you as the two of you stretched in a corner in the dojo. The blind assassin adjusted his blindfold. “I may be blind, but I’m not stupid. Are you okay?”

Doyle was shocked when you answered back in a choked sob. “No, I’ve tried to get away but he’s sent the whole dojo after me… I’m scared, Doyle.”

Doyle was so shocked when you hugged him. His body shook when he felt his first hug since he was a child. He instantly wrapped his arms around you and lost himself within you. He could imagine a life with you. You were so sweet and you were capable… he had money from his old job as an assassin and he had favors he was owed by people. Doyle could help you escape.

You pulled away and you felt your blood run cold at the red bar that was now above Doyle’s head. Oh no…

“I’ll help you escape.” Doyle whispered in your ear. “But we’d constantly be on the run. Would you want to live like that, darling?”

The choice is up to you with him. Doyle will help you but you’d lose your opportunity to go home… forever.

Jun Guevara

Another wild card. This dashing man can be found on Fridays at the docks by his boat. He’s usually shirtless with a jacket draped over his shoulders and a cigarette between his lips. He is also very easy to attract if you ask him about the ocean. This man loves the ocean. He won’t stop talking about it and he may even give you a shell if you’re extra sweet.

Jun is incredibly flirtatious but don’t let that fool you, he’s also extremely possessive. His heart bar will only rise if you’re charismatic. You have to be able to talk the talk too. And once you successfully romance him, you have the opportunity to get onto his ship! Hurray!

Jun will share rum and stories with you if you sneak off to come see him. He’ll even drape his jacket around you and call you, “Meu amor” or “Meu anjo.” You don’t have a clue what that means but it seems like a nickname!

Jun is great to use as an escape option if the other men become overwhelming. Just keep in mind that he won’t let you off that boat, because he’s determined to make you his wife! And eventually the mother of his four children.

Biscuit Oliva

Another wild card but can be encountered if you interact with criminals (Jun or Doyle). Biscuit may ask you about their whereabouts but you should lie to him to save your friends. Compliment this man to distract him! He’s a pretty revered bounty hunter so it won’t take much.

He’s recently a widow and he’s easily flustered since he’s never been flirted with before. Oliva is very easy to romance once you stoke the fires of his ego.

Oliva is a gift giver just like Hanayama except his gifts are more from the heart rather than his pants…

Oliva will buy you very nice clothes and offer to take you abroad. His romance bar will only ever turn red if you share your woes with him.

Just like Jack, Oliva is extremely protective. And he will not lose another love so he’s willing to whisk you away and lock you up forever.

Just be his cute sugar baby and everything will be okay! So long as the other men don’t crash your date… then you may never get home.

Once you successfully romance all the men, the deity will appear to you. But sadly they won’t be able to send you home anyways because you’ve ruined the story here since all their bars all turned red. Sorry toots, but he can’t take you away from these men who are willing to kill each other to have you. The deity just hopes you can make a choice.

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ceasarslegion · 2 months

Note

OK...I'm asking....

Yay!

So this happened in what I consider the worst job I ever had. And that is saying something because I very much worked retail in a mall. I had just graduated uni, I couldn't afford toronto anymore, and I needed a full-time job to make ends meet now that the stability of university was gone. So I went to edmonton because I had one family member I could stay with until I got on my feet. And I was not in a position to turn away a job that paid.

So I took a door to door sales position. For telus. I can hear the canadians in the room wincing so to everyone else: telus is one of the three whole mega megacorporations that control the ENTIRE canadian telecommunications network. And all three of those companies are buddy buddy and have us all by the balls. That's why canadian phone plans are the most expensive in the world. Not in the developed world: in the WORLD.

The meth lab incident happened on my 3rd whole day on my own. I was in St. Albert, which is this suburb of edmonton that is like if a kale smoothie and that guy who won't shut up about bikhram yoga had a baby they abandoned in an HOA meeting. Which is what makes this that much more unhinged: it was in the most cookie cutter suburbia part of the EMR.

So I was doing my knocks in my blue Jay's hat and my telus branded polo shirt with my clipboard and I knock on my next door. I'm greeted by a middle aged woman who proceeds to dump on me that she's divorcing her husband of 30 years and moving to New Brunswick. I'm like okay cool I just wanna sell you cable packages, good luck with that?

I write that off and continue along the cul de sac until I knock on this other lady's door. And when I say talkative I mean a real chatty Kathy. She practically grabs me by the collar and plops me down on her deck chairs, shoves a coffee in my hand, and says "HEY TELUS GUY DID YOU KNOCK ON METH GUYS DOOR???" And points to the house of the lady who just told me she was getting a divorce

At this point I have forgotten about my commission. I have forgotten about my shitty supervisor and how every part of this job sucks and how I wanna go back to Toronto. I have thrown away my clipboard I have started sipping her coffee that could very well be spiked with something and I go "you have to tell me about the meth guy"

That house I knocked on? The weird oversharing lady who was getting a divorce? Her husband was running a meth lab out of the basement THEIR ENTIRE MARRIAGE and she ONLY FOUND OUT THEN?? He called it his man cave and said that she wasn't allowed in?? And then one day she went down out of curiosity and it was a METH LAB??? All the bonuses he said he got at work were meth money.

I'm still enamored by how this happened. Did it not smell? Like for those who don't know edmonton there is a HUGE meth problem here. Like across the political aisle we all agree that something has to happen about all the meth, the details get foggy and that's where people argue, but needless to say I have smelled and been offered meth before just by virtue of living downtown. That shit REEKS. Like you know meth smell because it somehow smells like the word "meth." You will know what you are smelling even when you've never smelled it before. And it lingers. It hangs. It gets into walls. I know when I've taken a train car before because the smell of that guy who hotboxed it with meth smoke last week will still kinda be there. There's no way that house didn't smell like ass down to the foundation.

And the "you arent allowed in my man cave" excuse... im enamored by both the sexism towards his OWN WIFE and the way she just... went along with it for 30 years? Never set foot down there? The sexism and the just believing it?

I kept trying to steer the conversation back to the meth lab and this lady I was on the porch of kept actively trying to buy internet deals from me. Like she was the only person I ever pitched who was TRYING to get my bundles. I ended up just handing her my list of products and told her to check off what she wanted and was like "more meth lab?" And she went right to "yknow i think if I was your age I would've been a boy now. We didn't really have those terms when I was a kid" I DID NOT BRING THAT UP MA'AM I DONT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR GENDER CRISIS TELL ME MORE ABOUT THE METH LAB

That job was so shit that that was the only one I ever quit with no back up plan and did not regret for a second. I then went to the mall and handed out CVs and got my retail job by the end of the week from doing that.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 9 months

Text

Not Like I'm in Love with You

Summary: For the longest time, it was you and Maria. A package duo. A dynamic team. Agent Hill and Gaia. But you were always just friends, nothing more. Until a mission goes wrong forces Maria to admit her feelings for you.

Warnings: jealously, angst with a happy ending, surgery, medically induced coma, bomb, eco terrorist?, reader is enhanced, mention of drinking and sexual activity, love confession

Word Count: 5.2k

“My savior,” Natasha groaned as you handed the redhead a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. She moaned, taking a sip of the coffee. “I could marry you right now.” You shook her head at her antics and passed the rest of the goodies to the team. Clint had his feet on the table and head thrown back, and a pair of sunglasses covered his eyes. He grunted out a thanks when he set his order down. The rest of the team was in different states of hungover, barely muttering a greeting. You chuckled.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out on a school night,” you teased, sitting down at your desk so you could eat your own. Clint groaned.

“You aren’t my mom,” You felt like it.

“Where’s the boss?” You questioned.

“Probably untangling herself from the blonde she went home with,” May mumbled, holding a cold towel to her forehead. Why did your stomach drop when she said that? The team had the right to party after a job well done. The case had a breakthrough, and they wanted to go out. Like always, you refused, you weren’t much of a drinker, and you didn’t trust yourself drunk with your abilities. You were an Eco-empathy, allowing you to connect deeply with the environment and sense, understand, and manipulate the natural world. SHIELD nicknamed you Gaia, and your fellow agents called you various Earth-related names. You and Maria were just friends, right? When Fury picked her as Deputy Director, she prompted you alongside her. You were her second in command; while she went out in the field, you stayed behind to run point. It was how you two operated a well-oiled machine. Co-workers. Best friends at most. Like you’ve been, right? Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

The door opened, and Maria walked in. “Ah, she emerges from her walk of shame,” Natasha teased. Maria flipped her off and thanked you with a smile for her breakfast.

“Ain’t nothing shameful what I did last night,” Natasha cringed. Thankfully, Maria’s back was to you, so she missed the frown on your face. The redhead saw it. “Alright,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

“You missed a hell of a party,” Maria said as you handed your mock battle plan for the upcoming mission. It would go through her than Fury before it was green lite; the more eyes, the better when it came to people’s lives.

“All these years you’ve known me, you know clubs aren’t my scene,” you sat on the edge of her desk. There was a picture of you and her during your SHIELD graduation. “Besides, how long were you there until an innocent woman fell under your spell?” You teased, but it didn’t feel enjoyable in your mouth.

“She wasn’t so innocent when I had my way with her,” you faked a gag. It was typical behavior between you two to talk about the woman you brought home; more times than not, Maria had the stories. But why did you feel like you could throw up right now?

“I can tell by that hickey on your neck,” you pushed the bruise, and she squatted your hand away. She was your ride-or-die. So you weren’t jealous.

“What is your schedule like today?” You sighed, looking at your nails on your left hand.

“Leading a training with May, a meeting with Phil, and I think Clint wants to go over some new trick arrows,” you rattled off. It was a typical busy day for you. Maria nodded.

“Do you want to go get lunch? We could go to that Mexican place you like.” That sounded nice, and you liked the burritos and mock tails they had. You sighed.

“How about a ring check? Nat asked if I could get lunch with her today,” Maria liked to joke that you made her soft. She rarely held up the mask to hide her emotions around you. There was no need. Now you saw the mask slowly creep up to hide her true feelings.

“Yeah, of course, she forced a smile. “Now get out of here before I write you up,” she teased. Rolling your eyes, you jumped off her desk.

“See you later, Ria.”

“Stay safe out there, Willow.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname but her office to start your day.

“You love her,” Natasha said as you took a bite of your sandwich. You choked on it, and the Black Widow smirked at your misfortune. You rubbed your chest to help the food pass and took a sip of water.

“I have no idea what the hell you are talking about,” she took a fry from your plate and popped it in her mouth.

“Please, Cherry, you’ve been in love with Maria since I’ve known you, and according to Phil, it’s been since the academy,” you gasped.

“Why is this office gossip?” You asked.

“We have to talk about something,” she shrugged. SHIELD agents were moths to a flame when it came to gossip. “Don’t worry, we won’t discuss it with Maria.” That was not reassuring.

“Look, Maria and I are friends. We have been forever; the way I feel is black and white.” You were curious to know if Natasha believed you. Hell, you barely believed yourself. It wasn’t like you stayed up at night overthinking the possibility of you and Maria has a couple. Nah, that would be dumb.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, it was fine. It was cool. It wasn’t like every time she talked about having sex with some random hookup at a bar, it made your stomach burn with jealousy because you wanted her body all to yourself. You wanted her more than anyone else. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“Shit,” you mumbled, slumping back into her hair. Natasha smiled, sipping on her chocolate milkshake.

“Glad you admitted it,” you hadn’t admitted anything. What was she talking about? “So, are you going to tell her?”

“No!” You shrieked, and you drew the attention of the other patrons. You felt your body warm up due to the extra eyes. Natasha chuckled. “God, no. I can’t. It will ruin everything. Besides, I doubt she feels the same.”

“She does.” The Black Widow glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Shit, we have to get back.” It was supposed to be a quick lunch because Fury called for an emergency meeting. You nodded, throwing your half-eaten food in the bag to take with you. “You know,” Natasha held open the door for you as you walked onto the busy DC sidewalks. “You should tell her. You both could be happy.” She said it as if it was easy and not scary. It’s not like you were losing your mind thinking about her in your bed. It started slow, but like dominoes, you started free-falling with no control. You were doing a shit job at hiding it if your friends knew the truth. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“I’m going on this mission,” you said, a little surprised.

“Yes,” Fury said, his arms behind his back and one good eye trained on you. “Your skill set is what this mission needs. Is that a problem?”

“No sir,” you said without hesitation. You kept up to date on your physical and firearm certification, and you met with SHIELD’s psychologist. You were always mission-ready when the time called for it, but it never did. You glanced at Maria, who was oddly quiet. Her face was in a permanent frown. But you couldn’t worry about her now; you had a mission to lead.

Maria found you in the locker room, tackle suit around your waist, and you were holding your dad’s dog tags in your hand. It was your good luck charm. “Want me to put it on you?” She asked. You nodded, handing her the necklace. Carefully, she placed the chain around your neck and locked it. The cold metal caused goosebumps to cover your shin. “I don’t like you going on this mission without me.” She admitted and sat down next to you on the bench. You chuckled.

“You’ll be watching my back,” you looked over your shoulder. “No, you’ll know how I feel every time you run off into danger.” You tried to make light of the situation, but there was a frown on your face. “Here,” you removed the necklace and placed it around her.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “You never go anywhere without it.”

“I don’t need it,” you said. “I got you watching my back. That’s all the luck I need.” Maria was quiet. It was unsettling for her to be quiet. “Ria, we got this. I get this. I’ve learned from the best, so I’ll be the best.” She laughed, and you were glad you could pull a sound out of her.

“Just-”

“Clover,” May walked in and cut Maria off. “We are all set, just waiting for you.” You told me you’d be there in 5 and turned your attention back to Maria.

“Just stay safe out there, Willow.” You wondered what she was going to say if she wasn’t interrupted.

“I’ll see you later, Ria,” you smiled. “Promise.”

You learned to listen to your gut instinct. It was your most valued tool as an agent. Even when you ran point back at headquarters, you listened to it when your stomach tightened with anxiety as you sat in the wooded area that surrounded the factory. This factory was responsible for releasing toxins into the air. Usually, this type of case wouldn’t gather attention from SHIELD, but the damage they were doing to the environment was affecting the locals: memory loss, muscle spasms, and strange hallucinations. The problem was that it was impossible to locate the idiots responsible for the mess. You could feel the environment dying in this area. May place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? She asked. You nodded, unable to open your mouth. You let out a few shaky breaths, trying to loosen the anxiety knot in your stomach, and tapped on the com in your ear.

“How are we looking?” You asked.

“They are about to make the guard change,” hearing Maria’s voice helped calm you down. “Are you doing okay, Willow? Your heart monitor is spiking.” You rolled your eyes and bit back a huff of annoyance. It was Phil’s idea to add pulse and heart detectors into the suit.

“Yeah, they’ve caused a lot of damage to this area. It’s making me all jittery,” you admitted.

“We’ll stop them,” this time it was Natasha’s voice through the coms. The Black Widow was recovering from a shoulder injury that left her benched until it was healed. You lead the team with Clint, May, and a handful of qualified agents.

“Shift change is in 3,” you put on your gas mask. “2 and 1. Stay safe, agents.” That feeling remained in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety, dread. You needed to figure out why. You moved through the building with ease and worked towards the control room. It was your, May’s, and two other agents’ job to turn off the factory while Clint protected the outside in case the alarm was tripped.

“We made it to the control room,” May said.

“Perfect, insert the flash drive. It should take 5 minutes to shut down the factory and copy the information they have on it.” Maria explained. May pushed the rolling chair out of the way.

“Go stand guard,” you ordered the other two agents. They obeyed and went into the hallway. The mission was almost over, so why were you so anxious? When May inserted the flash drive, an alarm went off, and metal walls trapped May and you inside the room.

“Houston,” your friend said. “We have a problem.” The room began to shake as a trap door opened, and a bomb rose from the floor. The red numbers clicked down from 10 minutes.

“Houston,” you repeated, and you took off the gas mask. “We have a bigger problem.”

“Turn on your cameras,” you turned on your body camera and heard the sharp intake of Maria’s breath.

“Guys, we have multiple heat signatures heading towards the factory,” Phil said. You walked over to the bomb, staring at the mysterious liquid.

“Barton, pull back. Gather all agents to the secondary position,” you pulled your hand back, clutching your hand against your chest—a fertilizer bomb.

“Willow, what is it?” Maria asked. You glanced at May; you knew she saw the panic in your eyes.

“It’s a fertilizer bomb,” you admitted. “Big enough to take out the factory and the surrounding bomb.”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Natasha mumble.

“May-”

“Already on it,” she cut off Maria as she rapidly typed at the control panel, trying to disarm the bomb.

“All agents have made it to the secondary location. Just need you two.” Yeah, that was going to be a problem. The sound of your team frantically discussing how to disarm the bomb became white noise. You walked the room length, gliding your hand over the metal wall. To your surprise, you felt pieces of earth within the metal sheets. Of course! All you had to do was focus on the impurities within the metal. You let out a shaky breath and concentrated. The metal moved underneath your palm.

“I have an idea,” you said suddenly.

“Am I going to like this idea?” Maria questioned. Probably not. You took your normal stance, feet shoulder length apart and knees bent slightly. You put your hands together, and then your palms faced the metal walls. Slowly, you began miming as if trying to rip something apart. At first, nothing happened. Beads of sweat trickled down your neck. Finally, the metal started to crumble and pull apart. A small doorway appeared. You fell to one knee, chest heaving. May ran to your side.

“That was wild,” she said. “I don’t know you could do that.” You chuckled as she helped you to your feet.

“Neither did I.”

“Nice work. No, get out of there,” Maria said. You quickly turned off your body camera and your and May’s com.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I think I can contain the blast.”

“You think?” It wasn’t an exact science, and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to contain it.

“Go,” you told her. You had to try. If not, so many people would die, including your team. Your friend hesitated but took off towards the exit. You faced the bomb and turned on your com again. There were four and a half minutes left.

“Why aren’t you leaving with May?” Maria questioned. You took a shaky breath and retook your stance. “Willow, it’s just me and you. What are you doing?”

“I gotta try, Ria,” your voice strained with exhaustion, arms shook at each metal wall you bent around the bomb. “If I don’t, hundreds if not thousands of people are gonna die.” You said. It was your responsibility to get your team home and protect the innocents in the area. Maria whispered your name. It was so rare that someone said your real name it took you by surprise. The bomb was fully wrapped in metal, but you were exhausted already. “You got my lucky charm, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I got it.”

“Good, good,” you mumbled, digging your feet into the metal floor. “I’ll see you later, Ria. I promised, didn’t I?” There was so much more you wanted to say. A three-word sentence danced on your lips, but you held it back. It wasn’t fair to her to say it now. Each nerve in your body was vibrating. Every breath you took burned. You sent a silent prayer to your father as the explosion rocked your body. You held the metal to contain it. A scream left your lips as it became too much, and your world went black.

Maria knew she had this aura that surrounded her. An aura that screamed authority. It told newer agents not to fuck with her. She knew she was good at what she did and wanted everyone to know that. As she walked to the med bay with Natasha close by, she was murderous. Rationally, she knew it was no one’s fault. It was par for the course when it came to this line of work, but she needed someone to blame and push guilt onto someone. May was resting in a chair with an ice pack on her head. She looked up when she heard the approaching footsteps. “She’s still in surgery,” she mumbled, and Natasha sat beside her. “Doctors are worried about the amount of blood she lost and the toxins that entered her lungs.” A heat of anger washed over Maria, but she tried to push it down.

“May, go shower and eat,” Maria ordered. Her voice strained. She saw the protest form in the agent’s eyes. “That’s an order.” You risked your life to save her and the rest of your team. It would do no one good if May stopped taking care of herself. “That’s an order.” May sighed.

“Yes, Hill.” She stood up and left. Maria took a seat in her spot, elbows resting on her knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked. Maria refused to look away from the wall she was staring at.

“I need her to be okay,” Maria admitted.

“Is this why you wrote her out of every mission?” The Black Widow questioned. Maria slowly leaned back and looked at the redhead. “Come on, Hill, it was obvious. With her on the field, missions would be over in half the time, but you didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.” Maria remained silent. “Now, why would you do that?” Her eyes locked onto Natasha’s green ones; there was no judgment like she had expected to see. “We do crazy things for the people we love.”

“I-” Maria let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Nat.” She whispered. “I just need her to be okay.”

“She will be,” the Black Widow smiled. “She’s strong.” Of course, Maria knew you were strong. She’s seen you at your lowest point when your father passed away, but you pulled yourself out of it. Your screams right before you collapsed were repeating inside her head. It was like a bad song stuck in there. The only thing that gave her hope was the steady beat of your heart monitors within your suit. You were alive, barely but alive.

“Deputy Director Hill,” her name said, but the approaching doctor caused her to stand up.

“How she is?” She asked.

“Stable,” the doctor said. “The next 24 hours are critical. I must admit she has a few guardian angels looking out for her. There was a major piece of metal in her stomach and left thigh. She also had small pieces in her arm. We think she hit her head due to a cut on the back of her head.”

“May said you were worried about her lungs,” Natasha said. The doctor nodded.

“She inhaled a great deal of the fertilizer before she was found, so we are worried about the lasting effects.” She explained.

“Can-can I see her?” Maria asked.

“Of course, we’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal.” She faintly heard Natasha say she would inform Clint and the others of your condition. Maria wasn’t sure if the doctor was talking about your prognosis, but soon she was alone.

The only noise in the room was the steady sound of the machines connected to you. It seemed unreal that you were hurt. For the longest time, you seemed untouchable. Now, you were bedridden and too pale for Maria’s liking. She took your father’s dog tags off her neck and opened your hand to put the chain in it. “Lucky charm is back where it belongs.” She formed your hands into a tight fist and placed it on your heart. “Come back to me,” she whispered, kissing your forehead. “Please.”

There was a heaviness that surrounded you. It started at your chest and then moved to your limbs. The pressure was suffocating. Catastrophic. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the bright light of med bay. You felt metal in your hand and opened your palm to see the dog tags you gave Maria. “You’re awake,” you turned to see Natasha. A deck of cards in your hands and glanced down at your chest. You interrupted a game of war.

“Why are you using me as a table?” You deadpanned. Natasha shrugged.

“Had to kill time as we waited for your dumbass to wake up,” you rolled your eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a semi-truck,” you groaned and sat up slowly. The door opened to the bathroom, and Clint walked out.

“Shit,” you said. “You’re alive.” You scuffed, rubbing the bandages on your chest.

“I’m glad you had so much confidence in me, bird man,” Clint took a seat across from Natasha. “The team is okay, right? They all made it out.”

“Yeah, you saved their lives,” Natasha said. “Maria is pissed at you.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll deal with her later.” You closed your eyes. Now that you were a little more awake, you could take a better inventory of your body. Every small breath you took caused your chest to burn; it felt like a fire was starting. You sighed, wincing slightly, and turned to look at Natasha. “How bad?” The Black Widow sighed.

“There is potential damage to your lungs due to the fertilizer, and you had a metal that they had to remove from your stomach and thigh.” Cool, you thought, real cool.

“Just think,” Clint started. “At least you are off breakfast duty for a while.” You laughed at his poor attempt to lighten the mood but hissed. “Shit, sorry. No laughing. Got it.” You waved him off that you were okay.

“I’ll go get the doctor. Don’t move.” Natasha said, standing up. You scuffed. Yeah, you would make a grand escape with a hole in your stomach.

“You had everyone worried,” Clint said once Natasha was gone. You remained quiet, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t your intention to scare everyone. It was your job to protect your team and bring them home. So, you completed that part of the mission. It so happened you were hurt in the process.

It was night when you woke up again, and Maria was in Natasha’s seat. Her eyes were closed, but you knew she wasn’t asleep. Even in the dim light of the room, she looked exhausted. Bags were under her eyes, and her face looked pale. Natasha told you that you were in a medically induced coma for five days. Maria barely slept, had to be forced to eat, and left her office. “I know you aren’t asleep, Ria,” you whispered. Her eyes shot open. “You look like shit.”

“Says the girl with the hole in her stomach.” You smiled.

“They stitched it up all good. Besides, I had my lucky charm,” you picked up the dog tag around your neck. To your surprise, Maria took your hand in hers. Your body felt warm at the simple act. It wasn’t like you hadn’t held her hand before this moment felt more intimate. “Ria,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted. “God, Willow, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you said. “I needed to save the team.” She shook her head.

“It was the right call to make, but,” Maria sighed, and you felt her take her hand away, but you held her tight, not wanting to let her go. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you promised.

With the surgery and injuries, your movement was limited. The most straightforward actions were impossible for you to do without pain shooting through your chest. It was deemed you would move in with someone until you fully recovered. Natasha was the first to offer but was quickly overruled by Maria. So you moved in with the Deputy Director, and it was strange. You needed help washing your hair, changing, and undressing yourself. You couldn’t understand the look in Maria’s eyes for every action you required assistance with. It wasn’t the first time you shared a living space with Maria, but now you walked on eggshells around each other. A part of you wanted to go back before the mission before everything felt complicated between you and your best friend.

The physical limitations weren’t the worst part of your recovery. It was the mental scars. Nightmares plagued your mind almost every night of that mission. It would change constantly. Sometimes, your team would die, or you would fail to save Maria. It was exhausting, waking up in a pool of sweat, your heart racing, and your lungs unable to get air into them. You wanted all to stop.

Maria was sitting at her dining room table, a bottle of whiskey opened, and she needed to work on a few case files. Her mind was a million miles away and not on her duties as Deputy Director. It wasn’t entirely her fault; a lot had happened over the past two weeks. Her best friend was almost killed; Natasha forced her to admit she was in love with said best friend, and she had to watch you piece yourself back together. It was exhausting, but she knew you would do it for her. This was how it had always been. You and Maria. Agent Hill and Gaia. A package duo that never crossed the line as friends. So Maria filled the void that was missing with one-night stands and drunken sex that meant nothing to her. All she wanted, needed, and craved was you. She could not risk the friendship; it was the most important thing in her life.

Small whimpers from your room pulled her out of her thoughts. Standing quickly, she made her way to the guest room. She carefully opened the door. You lay on the bed, mumbling something Maria couldn’t quite understand. On socked feet, she walked over to the bed and sat at the foot. “No,” you mumbled. “Take me. Not her. Please.” Maria’s heart broke.

“Sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Wake up. Come on.”

“Maria,” you mumbled, thrashing slightly. “Maria, please, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up.” You woke with a start, chest heaving and eyes frantically looking around.

“Ria,” you forced out. There was a thin layer of sweat on your body.

“It’s okay—you’re safe. I’m safe. Breath,” she gently touched the back of your neck and brought your forehead against hers. Your eyes closed as you took a few deep breaths in and out. Finally, you pulled away, and Maria hated to admit she missed you being close. You slumped back on the bed, arm across your face.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. She was curious to know if you heard her. With your other hand, you grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m scared,” you said. Your voice shook at every spoken word. “I feel broken and weak and-” You aggressively rubbed your eyes as tears filled them.

“You are not broken,” Maria said. “You are healing. In time, you will return to your old self that I-” Maria cut herself off. You removed your hand from your face and slowly sat up.

“You what?” You asked, crossed your legs, and tried to cover the grimace of pain that crossed your face, but you moved closer to her. “Come on, Ria, tell me,” she was looking at every decoration in the room so she wouldn’t have to look at you. Finally, you used your index finger to tilt her chin to look back at you. “Finish your sentence,” you wore a smile on your face. It was a smile that Maria learned to look for in a crowd, in a meeting, or on a video call while on a mission. Your smile filled her with a sense of peace. It warmed her body and made her feel at home.

“That I fell in love with,” Maria softly spoke as she finished her sentence. You made a surprise sound that originated in the back of your throat, but you recovered quickly.

“You love me, Maria Hill?” the agent huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. “If you are going to make fun of me, get it over with.”

“I’d never make fun of you, not about this, at least.” You added with a smirk because you have made fun of her about other things. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, inching closer until Maria felt your breath mingling with hers.

“Please,” you connected your lips with hers. Maria hated how often she thought about this moment. She would go to her grave before admitting out loud how many times she had to bite her lip during sex to stop herself from moaning your name. Fair too soon for her liking, you pulled away and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Why have we waited so long to do that?” Maria chuckled. “Will you stay?”

“Always,” the open bottle of whiskey and mission reports could wait another day.

When you woke up the following day, you are disappointed to find an empty bed. Maria’s side was cold, but you heard a commotion in the kitchen. Carefully, you stood up. The mornings were always rough due to being in the same position for so long. You slowly made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. Maria was at the stove, her back to you, and you walked over to her. Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you buried her head in her shoulder. Her body tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. “Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning. Breakfast is almost done. Why don’t you go sit down?” You shook your head.

“Your arm,” you said, kissing the skin you could reach. You were happy with the goosebumps that formed on her skin. Her body shook with laughter.

“Go sit. I’ll get your medicine, too.” You pouted, walked over to the couch, and pulled a blanket over your lap. It wasn’t long before Maria joined on the sofa with two plates of food.

“I can help you know,” she said with a smile. She brought back two mugs of coffee and water with your medication. You kissed her cheek as your thanks and took the three white pills with water.

“I should probably say this,” you bite into the eggs. “I love you too,” she smirked.

“I would hope so, or this entire thing would be incredibly awkward,” she teased. You rolled your eyes and pumped your shoulder against hers.

“You are a dork,” you smiled.

“I’m your dork,” that was also true. Oh, how you liked that sound.

“Mine,” you mumbled, kissing her. “And I’m yours.”

#maria hill x reader #maria hill x you #maria hill

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frannyzooey · 5 days

Text

In The Dark: One Shot

Series Masterlist

Ezra x m!reader

Rating: E (filth and yearning, my friends)

Summary: Six weeks after Birdie has left, a glimpse into how Ezra tries to forget.

A/N: all the thanks to my bestie in crime, @the-scandalorian who said “when will this freak be in MY sheets” and she was so real for that ❤️

It’s been over a month, and the wound is still raw.

He’s tried to keep busy in so many ways: driving further for deliveries, taking on harder jobs that tire him out, seeking out his friends for a few drinks or a movie or dinner. Anything to keep him from reaching for his phone to text you or call you.

Distractions, which is what he needs tonight.

The itch to grab his phone is strong, so he grabs his keys instead. Stuffs his wallet in his back pocket, some condoms in the front. Steps out into the dusk and with a quick, restless stride, makes his way towards the nearest station. The train is crowded, not unusual for a Friday night and so are the streets when he gets off: streams of pairs, of groups, of single people like him all headed their way somewhere.

A thought pops into his mind, the way you used to wonder aloud where everyone was going. You used to watch them from your window, the steam from the tea clutched in your hands curling into the air, and for a brief, painful moment, he sees it. Your profile, your cheeks stretched with a grin, your hand patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him closer. In nothing but a tank top and your underwear, you’re a vision – a literal one that he shakes free as he opens the door to the bar.

It’s loud, but that’s good.

It doesn’t take him long to find someone. He’s never one to be shy about looking at someone with blatant want, and it takes only a few minutes before the man approaches him. It’s only been men since you left. He can’t bear the touch of another woman, with all their softness and sweetness and curves. He needs a hardness that matches his own: rough kisses, harsh grips.

Ezra orders the man a beer to match the one he’s finishing off, and they talk for a while, leaning on the bar. He’s a drummer in a band, here to see his friend play. He’s got intricate tattoos that run the length of his arms, molding to the sinewy muscles. He’s got eyes so rich with depth that Ezra finds himself drawn in the longer they talk, empty bottles being replaced with fresh, full ones.

He’s not you, and that’s perfect.

A bundle of cash is thrown down on the countertop, and Ezra follows the man out of the bar, letting him guide him back to his place, just around the corner. The apartment is sparse in the way men’s often are. A couch, a coffee table, a couple of pieces of art on otherwise bare walls. Not as many books as Ezra would like to see, but that’s okay. He’s not here for intellectually stimulating conversation.

He’s here to fuck.

He’s here to forget the fact that he would rather be in someone else’s apartment, surrounded by their stacks of books, among other things that made it feel so cozy and lived in. So warm, just like the cloud of your bed, or the cradle of your thighs or –

“You want a drink?” the man offers, standing next to his open fridge.

Ezra shakes his head, coming closer. He reaches out, gently pushing the door shut.

“No,” he replies. “Just you.”

—

The man’s bed is nothing like yours, but that’s okay.

The sheets aren’t as soft and it doesn’t smell as sweet, but it does have a willing body with a tight hole and that’s all that matters right now. Something to turn his brain off for the night, to numb the deep ache that’s settled between his ribs.

He aches now, but in a different way. A sweet, heavy ache deep in his balls as he tries not to come in the tight, wet fist of this man’s ass. The stranger is on his hands and knees, his back arched to take every one of Ezra’s rough thrusts, rocking back to meet every snap of his hips. His groans are deep and loud, his hands clenched in the plain sheets stretched over his mattress and Ezra runs a hand down his spine, his fingers splayed over his lower back.

Tattoos extend all the way up to his shoulders and wrap around his ribcage. His body is gorgeous – all lean muscles and smooth skin; Ezra’s touch fits between his ribs along his sides as he bends forward to tug the man up.

The stranger molds his back to Ezra’s front, and Ezra keeps a hand cradled at the base of his throat and fucks him harder, letting out his low, labored grunts into the nape of his sweat damp neck. His body is hard against Ezra’s, nothing like yours. When Ezra’s arm wraps around his front, he feels firm, flat planes instead of lush, weighted breasts. When his hand smoothes down the man’s torso, he feels a flat belly covered in scattered hair instead of plush, rounded softness. When Ezra’s hand dips lower, it wraps around a thick, stiff cock instead of finding a seam of wet, slick warmth.

The man’s hand joins Ezra’s, the two of them pumping his cock in time with the beat of Ezra’s hips. Ezra wants something slicker, something to make the drag better, and he lets go, bringing his hand up to the man’s mouth. The man opens, sucking Ezra’s fingers in down to the knuckle, and they groan together, Ezra’s cock jerking inside. Ezra can feel the vibration of his hum around the thick digits and pulls them out of his mouth, bringing them back down to the man’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans when Ezra wraps him with a firm, slick hold, jerking him root to tip. He adds a slight twist to the motion, something he loves to do to himself, and when the man’s broad frames melt against Ezra’s, he grins. He pumps his fist faster, feeling the man clench around his cock, and when the man’s groans start to get louder, Ezra’s pace picks up.

Sweat beads along his neck, and Ezra licks it up with a flat lave of his tongue. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Ezra croons in his ear.

When the man doesn’t answer, Ezra scrapes his teeth along the corded muscle, biting down.

“Yes! Yes, fuck yes, it feels good. Jesus Christ. Fuck me.”

The man is near babbling, his cock thickening in Ezra’s hold, beads of pre-come leaking steadily from the thick, rounded tip and Ezra swipes through the pearly mess, bringing his hand to his mouth. He sucks the sticky slick off the pad of his fingers, and lets out a lewd, deep groan into the man’s ear. The man whimpers, letting his head tip back against Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra’s got him cradled on his lap, his hand back on the man’s cock to finish him off, and when he starts to come with a shout and a steady stream of thick cum seeping through Ezra’s fingers, he digs his fingers into Ezra’s thighs, forcing himself down on Ezra’s lap to bury him as deep as he’ll get.

Ezra’s chest is heaving, his body aching with the need to come, every muscle strung as tight as the hold he has on the man’s hair. He’s rough with him: pushing him forward on his hands and knees, digging into his hips with a harsh grip, pounding into the curve of his ass hard enough to bruise. His fingers dig into the crown of the man’s hair with a tug, and Ezra closes his eyes, teetering on the edge of his own release.

The curve of your plush ass, the dig of your tiny fingers, the weight of your smaller frame enveloped by his. Your softer moans, the scent of your shampoo and your skin and the touch of your hair when he buries his face in it and the slick, tight warmth of your cunt or your ass as his hips jerk upwards –

And then he comes, burying himself deep.

He drops forward, catching his breath for a moment, resting his hands on the bed as his cheek rests on the man’s shoulder, and when he eases himself out, he feels slightly smug at the hiss he hears him let out.

“That was…a lot. Fuck, man,” the stranger laughs, breathless and sated. He drops down onto the bed, splaying out. His fingers dance along his tattooed stomach while he watches appreciatively as Ezra stands, tugging the condom off and knotting it.

“The bathroom is over there.” The man waves his hand in the direction of the hallway.

In the tiny room, Ezra washes his hands and stares at himself in the mirror. He looks tired, even with his cheeks flushed with heat.

His balls are empty, but so is everything else.

He doesn’t stay long after that. A quick press to the man’s lips at his front door, a half-hearted promise to see him again sometime. He knows he probably won’t.

He feels tired on his walk back home, his limbs drained of their restless energy, which is what he wanted – so he isn’t sure why he feels so..unsatisfied. Like he didn’t just fuck someone until they both finished. He wonders briefly if you’ve fucked anyone since you’ve been gone, and he immediately rebels against the thought…even though he knows he doesn’t have any right to.

He just did, didn’t he?

He wonders if you miss him like he misses you. If your world is tinted in Ezra-colored glasses like his is tinted in yours. If you also lay awake at night, staring at your face-down phone on your night stand, willing it to light with a text.

He said he would give you time and space and he meant that. Christ, he did. He wouldn’t even be mad if you went out and had fun and fucked someone because that’s what he wants for you – to be young, to embrace this opportunity, to have those experiences.

He just wishes it was still with him.

Letting himself in the front door, he heads straight for the shower. Stripping his clothes, he stands under the steaming pressure, dropping his head between his shoulders. He lets the steady stream beat down on his back, washing the sweat of someone else off his skin.

He sees a flash of your open mouth moaning in pleasure, your skin sliding against the shower tiles, and frustrated, he slams the water off. His cock comes to life, half hard between his thighs, and he ignores it, toweling off.

Pulling on sweats, he should be tired enough to sleep after a fuck like that, but he heads in the direction of the living room instead, grabbing a beer on the way there. Slumping into the couch, he clicks the TV on. He pulls up his phone, swiping open the weather app.

LONDON: 46F / 7C, 3AM

The bright light of the TV illuminates his profile, and he sighs, setting the phone down.

Are you in your bed? In someone else’s?

Hoping you’re safe, he slouches into the cushions and settles in for a sleepless night.

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra/you #ezra/reader

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shotmrmiller · 8 months

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Pathetic Simon who gets given a new recruit to train. A big strong lady who isn't afraid to be paired with him for grappling practice. Who isn't intimidated by his stature and mask. I just love the thought of him being so desperate for the touch and then so horribly horny that he basically has to RUN to the bathroom after every round.

ARGH!

My woman is strong. She's got beautifully round delts, she's got big biceps and thick forearms. Her quads? Jacked. Back? Muscular. Arse? A wagon. Competes with Simon's.

That's what she is. Powerful. Because she won't be the one calling out for help in a sticky situation. They'll be calling for backup.

I digress.

Simon had to double-take to make sure what he was seeing walking onto the mat wasn't something out of his own wet dreams.

Her rough, calloused hands touch his forearms as they get into a grappling stance, and his cock is immediately stirring. The grip she holds his wrist in is so tight, it feels like one of those blood pressure cuffs.

Delicious.

Simon's spine rattles when he's thrown onto the mat, (he let himself just this once because he needs to know what it's like to get womanhandled around by her), and he stands up kinda stiff, and shakes her hand.

In the bathroom, he used the same hand she shook his with to wrap it around himself and imagined it was her own. It felt like it, too. His hand is a little rougher, but nothing his own mind can't fix.

Wanked himself literally raw. The idea of her hand chafing him from how tough it is sent him into a frenzy.

Now he goads her into being physical with him. Will block her way, and she'll grab him by the shoulders and shove.

bathroom.

Bumps into her with his shoulder, only to be bumped back later on and the force behind it tips him onto his heels.

bathroom.

He'll try to firmly close his office door with his hands as she's trying to come in and she'll line up her body with it— one deep breath later and she's slamming her shoulder into the center of it, forcing her entry.

Ghost almost came in his pants when the door crashed into him as she confidently walked inside, casting an expectant look in his direction.

He let her fight some other recruit, some sexist pig who claimed that he didn't want to hurt a little lady. Nothing about her is little.

And when Ghost was witness to the other recruit's body being catapulted across the floor he sprinted away with the excuse of "Gotta piss."

The only thing that came out of his cock then was cum.

btw, i need her to be a battering ram too? Can you imagine being a bad guy running away, you're almost at the door and then something with the strength of a wooly mammoth slams into you? My heads ricocheting off the wall and im falling unconscious.

And so is Ghost because all the blood in his head instantly rushed to his other head.

#pathetic simon #simon ghost riley

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whiskersz · 7 months

Note

Hellooo👋

Saw that your requests are open and would you write a head canon about gn or fem exorcist reader where they're already in a relationship with adam and they are training together. So mainly fluff I think but I wouldn't mind some suggestive content thrown in there

Tyyy

Hello dear reader and thanks a bunch for requesting Adam! I think I'm getting better at writing him. Emphasis on Think. Anyways, enjoy the First Man being kiiind of a simp ^_^

Decided to go with fem! reader btw for a badass woman trope.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Adam x Fem! Exorcist! Reader HCs + Scenario

Warning for : slightly suggestive near the end.

✦There are times where Adam loathes training Exorcists, and times where he loves it, it highly depends on which side of the bed he wakes up in; either way, him and Lute admittedly do a pretty good job at it, turning even the meekest of Angels into bloodthirsty killing machines who wait for nothing but Extermination day.

✦You’re one of these killing machines, and he couldn’t be prouder to have a girlfriend who’s not only strong and – in his words – a badass, but who also shares his exact morals; you’ve been a part of this army of Exorcists for quite some time now, and both Adam and Lute respect you for both your physical strength and tough personality.

✦You’re obviously Adam’s favorite Exorcist to train; even though you don’t need much training anymore, he still makes sure to check up on you between a scolding and the other while dealing with the newbies. Maybe your shoulders are sore, or maybe your wings need a quick massage...you never know what excuse he’s going to come up with next to come see you, but it’s usually something about a part of your body being in pain, even though pain itself is a rare concept in Heaven.

✦Lute scolds him, for sure, every time that this happens; “Stop making shit up to see your girlfriend, Adam, we have a job to do!” or other sentences along those lines are often hissed towards him, as she drags him away from you.

✦When he does get to train with you though, don’t expect him to go easy on you; he might be your boyfriend, but he knows damn well that after all these years you can take a hit. Strumming his guitar like he’s on the stage and you’re nothing more than one of his admirers, he will direct a full-force attack at you that you will dodge every time before counter-attacking with your own Angelic weapon.

Adam gives one strong flap of his golden wings, moving out of the way just before you can hit him with your Angelic Spear. He turns around just in time to dodge your next attack, a kick directed at the back of his head; he would wonder how you managed to reach him in such a short time, if only he didn’t know how much strength your wings hold.

“Woah, easy babe! You’ve got privileges alright, being my girlfriend and all, but don’t think you can break my fucking face!” his voice is boisterous, though the tone it holds is playful.

You huff, wiping away a drop of sweat from your forehead. His comment indicates that the training session is over, so both of you slowly flutter your way back to the ground, your feet gently grazing the soft grass of the secluded field you often head to to train.

Noticing a fairly large tree nearby, you and your boyfriend walk towards it for a quick break, sitting down once the shadow of it casts above the two of you.

Adam’s hand slithers around your back, and soon enough he’s kneading the sensitive spot where your wings connect to it. You let a sigh escape your mouth, trying to filter out the quite annoying yells of the Exorcists training in the distance.

With a sly smirk, he runs his thumb down your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure. Blood flows to your cheeks and you swiftly push his hand away, causing him to burst out laughing. You playfully kick his ankle, which he moves to hold in fake agony;

“Save that one for the bedroom, will you?” you say, picking up your spear to go back to training.

“Boooring, go back to kicking those noobs’ asses instead of having some fun with your boyfriend, I guess.”

He’s in a cheeky mood today, you guess. And you also guess that he’s going to follow you in about five seconds, which he predictably does.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #adam x reader #adam headcanons #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam hazbin #gender neutral reader

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 1 year

Text

How to Plant Snapdragons

Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Keegan & König X Female Criminal!Reader (Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story) SYNOPSIS: You are a criminal who is forced to join and help Task Force 141 with their mission under the order of General Shepherd.

PREFACE

Maybe being in prison wasn’t so bad. At least, some inmates there were actually kind of friendly and wouldn’t be able to kill you in an instant. Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself get caught and thrown behind bars in the first place. Maybe you should have run away instead.

At least there wouldn’t be big men who were trained to snap bones, shoot a bullet through your head, and gut you if had stayed quiet. At least there wouldn’t be big men chasing after your head if you had been obedient.

Except, obedience wasn’t in your vocabulary.

Most of the time.

Well, having men with big biceps, thick thighs, and broad chests ordering you around wasn’t so bad in a while, yeah?

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language WORD COUNT: 2.5k

"Have you ever heard of a mountain chicken?"

For the fourth time, since you had gotten on the road or rather, the sky since you were on a noisy as hell helicopter or chopper (whatever it was called), Laswell sighed. This was the first time someone had annoyed her this much to the point she had considered snapping your neck.

You had already told her a bunch of terrible dad jokes, dark jokes that even Satan would be proud of you, and puns you could think of, and only once did the woman laugh, and it was the most monotonous and insincere laugh you had heard in a while.

You were going insane. Laswell thought of that too.

No phone during the ride—not even a fucking radio to listen to old songs or news! You were used to listening to music while looking out of any vehicle you were on.

Like bruh, what could be more boring than having nothing to fiddle on during long-ass rides that you wouldn't know when to finally end? Especially when you could see nothing but the gray sky, snow-covered mountains, white forests, trees, and even more trees. There were some occasional odd-shaped clouds, bringing floating whites around.

You turned your face at her again, leaning a bit close to her, and whispered, "So, have you ever heard of a—shit!”

The helicopter shook a bit, making you again hold onto your chair for dear life. It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights. You’ve had your fair share of sky diving, bungee jumping, roller coasters, and stuff, but falling off in the middle of nowhere? Who would like that? You ain’t Tarzan to survive living in a fucking jungle. And the jungle Tarzan grew up in wasn’t covered in ice.

You ain’t dying until you see the ending of your favorite animes, manhwa, mangas, books, and dramas.

"Good Lord, what the fu—" You pursed your lips into a thin line the moment you saw Laswell's burning glare, ready to throw you off the flying transport and watch you break your bones when you slam on the surface of the earth, then rejoice when a pack of wolves makes you their dinner.

You simply look out to the forest and rest your head on the chair. “Maybe if you had let me at least have some papers and pen to draw or a book, I would have stayed quiet,” you mumbled and waited for a reply that never came.

Guess you’d just spend the rest of the flight, making scenarios in your head with your fictional husbands.

“Inbound in one minute,” said the guy in front of the helicopter, steering the wheel and making the vehicle tilt to the left.

You peered through the window by your side, almost planting your face against the glass to see where you guys were supposed to land. And there it was, a massive military base. Even from afar, you could see the buildings where soldiers probably lived and wide spaces where they trained or parked the vehicles they used for transport and battles.

You squinted your eyes as the helicopter flew closer and closer to the base. You passed through the gate and watchtowers, spotting some soldiers walking and some jeeps (if they do call those jeeps) driven around the land. It did not take long for the helicopter to touch down on the landing pad, and through the window, you noticed some people coming close.

Kate opened the door and both of you were greeted by the harsh, freezing wind caused by the chopper’s blades. The older women easily jumped down, but you remained inside, turning to the pilot and holding onto the headrest of his seat.

“Hey, Mister,” you said as the heavy noises around you started to die down and smiled at him when he faced you with a frown, wrinkles on his forehead and eyes becoming evident. “What’s your name?”

“. . . Nikolai,” he answered after a good couple of seconds and quickly turned his attention forward.

“Say, Nikolai, can you teach me how to drive this—hey!” An arm grabbed the back of your collar, forcefully dragging you out. You stumbled on your feet as you landed on the concrete, the snow created a crisp crunch beneath your boots and you grimaced as your hair stuck to your mouth. “Goddamnit, Laswell, I was just trying to make a conversation!” you shouted as she let you go.

“You can have those conversations later,” she claimed.

You followed her, swiping the strands of hair from your mouth. “Ah, shit, fuck.” You groaned in frustration as you felt a sting in both your eyes, making you unable to open them.

“Is this her?” asked Price, scanning you from head to toe, before eyeing Laswell.

“Yeah, she’s a real pain in the ass, I’m telling you,” the older woman answered with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what had gotten into the General’s head to have a criminal in the 141.”

You made no comment about her words, knowing it was true. Rubbing your painful eyes, you turned to the right, assuming Kate was there. “Hey, Laswell, you got some water? I got something in my eyes.” You let out a squeak when you slammed against a post, but certainly, this post didn’t feel like a post, and men in the military were trained to become brick walls.

“Who the heck would just stand in the way . . .” You tried to open an eye, which made it water, but you held it in to look up at the guy. He wore a vest over a tight-fitting shirt (who the fuck would wear a shirt in winter) and denim pants to pair it. But what got your attention was his dumb haircut that ruined his cute face and you couldn’t help but ask, “Did a rooster do your hair?”

A snort came from the other side followed by a cough.

“Really, Gaz?” Soap grumbled, motioning a hand. Though, he wasn’t really offended. He had heard people comment on his hair, but did that stop him from rocking the damn haircut? No shit.

“Sorry,” Gaz replied, amusement still evident in his voice.

At the same time, you stepped away and continued rubbing your eyes, which had gone a bit better. “Forget the water, I’m good now.”

“Told you, she’s a pain in the ass,” Laswell once again claimed, making you roll your eyes, and finally look around you. “Well, these are the men you will be working with from now on.” She nodded at the four guys standing with you two and gave your shoulder a couple of heavy pats. “Listen to them well. Otherwise, you know what Shepherd and I will do to you.”

Listen to them well, like the good dog you were trained to be. Otherwise, they would just throw you away like a useless tool you were.

Or worse, they would keep you as their trophy, to be paraded around.

Well, you could live with that as long as they give you lots of food and money. At least, you would be able to smell the shits your prisonmates took every single fucking day, get slapped every time you woke up, or get picked on every time you were out of the wards’ sight.

Some inmates were kind enough to help you, but they were in a different cell. Oh, how you wish you could say goodbye to those women.

You pursed your lips and sighed, nodding. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll leave her in your care, boys.” Kate waved them goodbye, before climbing back into the chopper.

“What, wait!” You yelled at her, which made her raise a brow. “Can I have a phone?” You flashed a big smile.

Laswell smiled back, but in the way, she looked ready to prostate you to the floor and command the 141 to shoot you until their bullets ran out. “For the last time, no.”

“Come on!” You whined, throwing your hands in the air. “You won’t let me use my phone, you won’t even let me bring books or anything to entertain myself with. This isn’t any better than being in jail where people make you eat the shit they pulled out of their assholes after dinner and make a makeshift knife with a fucking toothbrush they used to clean the toilet they sleep next to.”

You talked fast enough to make you sound like an annoying mosquito that couldn’t be killed in the middle of the night while people were sleeping. You phased back and forth as you rambled, exaggeratedly waving your hands as if that would make your points clearer.

It didn’t.

It only made some soldiers who were passing by believe that you were a mentally ill hostage the Task Force 141 recently caught.

But what would they get out of a woman with screws loose?

“She’s got no filter on,” Soap mumbled in bewilderment, leaning a bit to Ghost, who remained still. “I've had my fair share of hearing curses in different languages but a bloody detailed story of how people eat shit? Goddamn.”

“You should be more concerned about what kind of prison she came from,” Gaz responded in a low voice, shaking his head in disgust as they listened to you tell the agent about an inmate accidentally swallowing a roach.

“You two should be thinking about how to make that damn mouth shut up,” Ghost declared, shooting a glance to the side and wanting to get away as soon as he could. Had Shepherd gone mad to let this clucking woman out? Did you perhaps swallow a cricket in jail and that was why you wouldn’t stop being noisy?

Captain Price sighed and shook his head.

Laswell looked away from you as if that would make you shut up, but then she remembered the helicopter had doors. She slammed it close and breathed in relief as your voice got blocked.

What on Earth did she do to the General to make her deal with you?

She motioned a hand. “Get going, Nikolai, before she gets even more crazy than she already is.”

“Solid copy,” Nikolai replied, joy clear in his tone. He prayed to never hear a damn word from you again.

“At least let me have access to Archive of Our Own!”

The helicopter started, and the blades created an awful whirring sound as it slowly raise, bringing harsh wind to slap you in the face, to tell you Laswell wasn’t going to give you enough shit anymore.

You once threw again your hands up in the air in defeat. “Fucking hell.” Then, you turned around, remembering you had some new company with you.

“Welcome to Task Force 141,” Price said and extended a gloved hand to you, which you quickly received.

You shook it and flashed a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Captain. I hope to be . . . in use of you and the group.” You wished you could cut off your tongue as soon as those words rolled out.

You did not like being dragged out of the prison, so you could help some supposedly good guys under the command of a bald general, who fucking guilt trip you about saving you from behind bars like some kind of Asian parent. The old man even praised himself that he was your savior like a goddamn stuck-up saint with a god complex.

Oh, how you wish you could file his bald head with a cheese grater.

“I hope so, too.” Price turned and walked away, which was the cue for you to follow him.

You padded behind him like a puppy that found its new owner. Your eyes darted around in curiosity and greedily taking in the details in everything you could see at the moment, until your gaze shifted to Kyle, who walked beside you. You stared at him just as he stared down at you, and as he was about to smile, you turned away.

Cute guy, you thought, but you liked fictional men better. You gazed from left to right as you entered a building. There was nothing much to see but hallways.

Gaz’s eyebrow twitch. Did he just get ignored? Alright, he would let you get away from it for now. Got to be nice and show some hospitality towards the newcomer, even if you shouldn’t be here in the first place. But seriously, you looked like you had a jar of crack and a few gallons of Monster mixed with coffee up your ass to even walk.

Then, he pulled a face when he saw Soap’s smug look. This fucking rooster.

“Ah, right, Captain,” you began once again, after a short while of silence, “Laswell mentioned about you having something to discuss with me?”

“Yes, but I prefer to talk about it in my office.” Price turned to a corner.

“Oh, okay—I mean, copy that, sir.” You glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the opposite hallway from where the Captain was leading you four.

It didn’t take long until Price halted before a door, prompting the rest of you to stop. He pushed it open and nodded at you. “Ladies first.”

You tilted your head. “Sir? But you’re my superior and I’m sure gender doesn’t matter in this—”

“Oh, just enter.” Soap draped his arm around your shoulder and dragged you inside the room. “He’s the Captain and that’s why you follow his orders.” He motioned his finger in front of you.

“Ah, yes . . . sir.” You shot a glance at his arm that pulled you close to him, the muscles used to do heavy work, the hand that could easily grab your neck or face to make you shut the hell up or manhandle you. Then, you look to your other side, welcomed by his—sweet Jesus, how big were those boobs? You tapped your fingers on your thigh, fighting the urge not to put your hand on them and bury your face between them.

Ah, maybe being in the military wasn’t so bad.

Would you be able to experience this more if you disobey?

“I’ll keep it simple,” Price said and leaned on the desk behind him, crossing his arms. “You are to follow our orders. You are forbidden to be out of sight of the team for more than 20 minutes, and to monitor your movements, Laswell left me something.” Price extended an object to Gaz, which the younger man whistled upon sight.

You grimaced at the ankle monitor on his hand. “Can’t I just be as obedient as you want me to be?”

Price shook his head with a soft smile. “Sorry, young lady, that won’t do.”

Gaz dropped on one knee before you. It would have been nice, had not it to put the goddamn monitor on you, and if not Soap tightened his grip as if you’d run away. As if they couldn’t disable you in a blink.

For a moment, the thought of cutting off your foot crossed your mind, but they would only put the monitor in your other leg, and you weren’t fucking Wolverine or Deadpool.

You wiggled your left leg after Kyle was done, feeling heavier than ever before.

You were taking back what you said. This shit sucked.

And it didn’t stop you from running away the next few days.

Chapter 2 is here and the Masterlist!

You can also read the series on AO3 here.

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am-i-interrupting · 7 months

Note

do you mind if i ask for a bimbo gn!reader who thinks they have an unrequited crush on vox all the while being oblivious of vox's own attempt at flirting, please?

Daft Dolls

All that training with Velvette about how not to just pace but run in high heels really did pay off. Not only was it a valuable tool to have in Hell of all places, it was also just pretty damn useful to know in general.

You weren’t running from loan sharks. No, you were running towards a specific hotel. You weren’t in trouble. Far from it. You were excited. You could not wait to see the look on his face.

The doors were slammed open as you barged in. You looked across the lobby of the hotel.

Vaguely you registered other people (a man dressed in red who just appeared out of thin air) but your eyes zoned in on the pink clad spider at the bar.

“The fuck you doing here, toots?”

“I got you out of work!”

Your voices overlapped. Angel Dust looked at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“I got you out of work,” you repeated as you walked towards him, the door closing behind you. “Well, not work but work work. You know, Valentino work. I know it’s not what you wanted but being on set with me is better than being on set with Valentino, right? At least, that’s what I was thinking ‘cause when I went to talk to him about it he was mad. Like mad mad. He threw bottle of rosé at me.”

“Are you okay?” Angel asked.

You batted his hands away from you. “I’m fine. It’s no big deal. He has shit aim anyway. He missed but with the help of Vox I was able to get you off of Val’s set and onto mine!”

Angel Dust just stared at you, absolutely silent.

As he processed what you said, a blonde woman came up beside you. “Um, hi, I’m Charlie. You’re one of Angel’s friends, I guess? It’s so nice to meet you.”

You took her outstretched hand (it was really soft) and shook it. “Nice to meet you too! Angel’s told me about you. I’m—“

“Vox helped you?” Angel asked, coming out of his stupor. “Like TV head Vox? Overlord Vox? That Vox? He helped you get me out of work?”

“Yeah,” you said shaking your head. “He was already up there with Val. I kind of just barged in. I wasn’t thinking. That was probably a stupid thing to do but you were on the news and then you were messaging me all freaked out about what Val was gonna do because you were on the news so I just kind of went up there to talk about it and anyway. Yeah, why?”

He downed the glass that was on the bar beside him. “You’re so oblivious sometimes,” he said.

“What?!”

He pointed a finger at you. “You call me at least once every two weeks and moan and groan about how—“

You clasped your hands over his mouth. “Can we not ta— Ew! Angel!” You yanked your hands back, now covered in his saliva. “Gross!”

He smirked at you and leaned in close, “Just making sure you’re prepared for that hand job he’s gonna get.”

You pushed his shoulder and he pushed you back. This led to you both lightly hitting each other with no real intent to harm one another.

That was until a different woman’s voice sounded through the room, “What the fuck is going on?”

The both of you stopped and turned towards her. Grey skin, white hair, orange eyes, she was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but say as much.

She looked completely thrown off by your blatant statement meanwhile Angel threw his head back with a laugh and Charlie looked over at her with a huge smile.

“Vaggie,” Charlie said in a sing-song voice.

“No,” the woman (Vaggie) immediately responded with. “Absolutely not.”

She turned around and started walking away. “Sorry,” Charlie said before moving to follow her. “But they’d be perfect for the Hotel!”

“No, we’re not having two Angel Dusts,” Vaggie said.

“But, Vaggie,” Charlie’s voice then grew too distant to hear.

Angel waited a moment but then he turned to you again. “You really got me out of work?” he asked, voice so close to sounding fragile.

“Course I did,” you told him. You grabbed his hand. “Your my friend, Angie.” You let go. “I need to go back though. I’m on my lunch break and it’s probably almost over. I just got so excited, I had to come tell you in person.”

Angel pulled you in for a hug and squeezed you with all six arms. “You’re the best, toots.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “Anyway, I gotta go. See ya!”

You blew Angle kissed as you walked backwards to the door. You spun around, prepared to open it when you saw the red clad man from before holding the door open for you.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Of course, my dear,” he said, a radio filter on his voice. “Please, allow me to walk you back. I’d love to thank our mutual friend in person for helping our other mutual friend.”

“You know Vox?”

“Yes, indeed I do, very well, in fact. I’m Alastor. Pleasure to meet you, my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said.

You gave him your name in turn.

The two of you walked together in silence. You did notice as the two of you walked, many people sprinted away which was odd, especially for you.

You were normally approached by people when you were out. They didn’t run away.

See, several years ago youd made a deal with Velvette. You were one of her models and she’d provide you with protection from Hell’s many dangers along with the occasional free clothes as a bonus. Time passed and you and Velvette actually ended up getting along fairly well. She’d put you in her streams, in her posts, she’d hang out with you outside of work. That’s when one day she heard you singing when she invited herself over. A couple days later, you were basically told you were going to make an album. The rest was history.

So, people running from instead of approaching you was different, weird, even strange.

You looked over at your company but he simply wore a smile. You could hear him humming actually, something upbeat and jazzy. You supposed if he wasn’t deterred you shouldn’t be either. Maybe it was just one of those off days in Hell, especially since it was so soon after the extermination.

Eventually you got to the three Vs’ tower. What you didn’t expect was for Vox to immediately teleport to the entryway.

His posture was straight which was normal but it seemed tense. If that wasn’t enough to tip you off the fact that he was still sparking was and his eye strobing definitely was. You followed his gaze to Alastor and found yourself suddenly very cautious of the man.

While Alastor didn’t seem that bad on the surface you’d known Vox longer. You trusted Vox. You more than trusted Vox actually but the point was you took a very lengthy step away from Alastor and toward’s Vox even if he was sparking.

“What marvelous company this one makes,” Alastor said, gesturing to you. “Wouldn’t you say, old friend?”

Vox took a step in front of you. “Get the FUCK out of my territory!” he said.

Alastor’s smile turned into something devious, something knowing, and something very unnerving. He gave a bow and then vanished into the shadows.

Vox placed a hand on your back and guided you inside. “Do not ever go around him again, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you said. Not once in your half a decade in Hell had you ever seen Vox like this.

He sighed. His sparking calmed down and his eyes stopped strobing. “Sorry, just, um, I— he’s— it’s complicated. Just don’t associate with him.”

“Sorry, I was just going to that hotel Angie’s staying at. He insisted on walking me back, that’s all,” you explained.

“It’s— Wait, what? What hotel?”

“The Happy Hotel that Charlie Morningstar started. There was an ad for it on 666 today before Angel’s fight.”

Vox stopped. “Alastor’s back and he’s staying at a hotel run by Lucifer’s daughter?”

Prior to all of the things that happened two days after the extermination, Vox had already said (as what you assumed was a way to placate Valentino) that he would be personally in charge of directing your music video but it seemed like since Alastor he wasn’t letting you out of his sight. That was silly though.

He did come into your apartment in the tower though and just sat on your couch. That was normal though. Vox did that when he was stressed. He said your apartment was less noisy than staying with the other Vs. Whatever the case, you made him dinner last night.

Now it was the next day and Velvette was dolling you up as she was prone to do. She blended out your lipstick with her finger. Then she put a thick layer of lip gloss on top.

“Pout for me. Perfect. You look pretty, innocent, and fuckable,” she said.

She pulled you out of your chair and to the nearest full length mirror. She was right, as always. She’d given you a very soft blue makeup look for the most part with sharp eyeliner and bold pink and black lips. She had dressed you in a pastel pink cropped sweater, a matching miniskirt with a high pastel blue g-string, and tall white boots. She’d outdone herself but she always did.

She ushered you out of the dressing room after you both got done gawking at yourself and to the set. There you found Angel in a very similar get up but with the pinks and blues reversed.

“You ready to blow this shoot?” Angel asked,

“Wrong kind of shoot for a blow,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes with a smile. One hand of his went around your shoulders. The other went around the waist.

You both went to set and chatted while you waited for Vox to arrive.

It was only a few minutes before he was walking through the doors, a tray of three cups in his hands. He set it down on a nearby table. Velvette went to grab one but he cut her off, taking it instead. You caught sight of her offended expression before it morphed into a done but knowing look. One hand on her hip while the other plucked a different cup off the tray,

Vox turned, now two cup in hand. He caught sight of you and raised an eyebrow. Velvette doubled over laughing. You couldn’t help but wander why. It was too loud to hear what they were saying but it didn’t look like either of them had moved their lips.

Maybe one of Vox’s soundboard noises went off. That was known to happen occasionally but you couldn’t think of why.

You didn’t really get the chance to think of any reasons though as seconds later Vox was in front of you. He extended the hand holding the cup he’d taken from Velvette.

“You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks, Velvette’s work,” you explained, taking the cup from him. You hummed to yourself when you were met with your favorite drink.

“I’m sure that’s not all true,” he said.

You were too busy to notice how his eyes lingered on your face but Angel did. Throughout the next few weeks Angel noticed a lot.

He’d never really seen you and Vox interact before. He would just hear stories from you afterwards and holy fuck. You had to be dense to think this man wasn’t absolutely obsessed with you.

Vox brought you your favorite drink every single day. He complimented you every single day. He would correct and critique everyone else in a very detached way at best and frustrated way more often than not. But with you, he was calm, gentle almost. He took your ideas and incorporated them. He would go out of his way to physically correct your poses or guide you through specific motions. Once you mentioned off handedly that your feet were hurting and there was an early lunch break where he didn’t even eat, he massaged your feet for you.

When Angel brought this up, however, he was brushed off.

“He brought Velvette a drink too.” Yeah, one she complained tasted like piss.

“He does that all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Angel had never heard Vox compliment anyone in his nearly seventy years in Hell.

“He just knows me better, that’s all.” Not once had Angel ever seen Vox being even half as kind to Velvette or Valentino.

“I’m sure he does that with other people’s ideas.” Angel remembered being told multiple iterations of the same story with different people, all because they did something as small as suggest different shoes for someone to walk in because it was too loud.

“It’s probably just easier to do that than explain. He knows I’m used to being puppeted around by Vel.” He spent five minutes explaining to Angel what to do instead of just moving his four arms into position.

“Do you want me to give you a foot massage, Angie? All you have to do is ask.” Well, yes, but that wasn’t the point!

Angel watched as Vox laughed at something you said. “Fucking dumbass,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed a yogurt off the snack bar.

“I know, right?” Velvette said, scaring the shit out of him in the process. “You think this is bad? Ugh, imagine being surrounded by it all the time and Voxy’s just as bad and there’s no escaping him. I have to put up with his bitch ass whining all the time. It’s exhausting.”

Angel relaxed enough to lean against the wall. “Kind of makes you want to press them together like dolls and make them kiss, don’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah. . . Wait a minute! That’s it!” Velvette slapped Angel’s shoulder.

She whipped out her phone and started typing frantically. Her legs started kicking from where they dangled over the edge of the snack bar.

Angel peeled open the yogurt and tried to lean to have a look at what she was typing. She was too fast though and shut off her phone with a satisfied smirk.

Her eyes were glued to the pair of you. You pulled out your phone and saw a message from her. You looked over at her with furrowed brows. She just smiled at you manically. You shook your head but gave her a thumbs up.

When lunch break was supposed to be over, Velvette clapped her hands together loud enough it echoed through the room. “Listen up, sluts!” she said, taking control over the room.

You watched as she and Vox had a back and forth which ended with Vox confused on the set couch in a new outfit Velvette poofed on him. It wasn’t anything too far out of his usual style but it was a change. It was simple black slacks and a white button up shirt but the sleeves were rolled past his forearms and several of the buttons were undone. He looked. . . You were staring that’s for sure.

The music came on and you began lip singing. You put your hands on either side of his head. You threw your leg on the other side of his lap and straddled him. You moved your body up and down, not grinding on him due to not sitting on him but it was a close thing. Your face was right in front of his. You tried to hold eye contact with him but for some reason his eyes kept darting down.

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath.

Then an arm was wrapped around your hips forcing you down and a hand was in your hair guiding your head closer to his. Your lips met his and static filled your entire body. His tongue was caressing your mouth, making you feel like you had a mouth full of pop rocks.

You moaned when he flipped you so your back was pressed against the couch. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel him through his pants.

“Fuck the music video,” he said against your lips. “How would you feel about filming a porno instead?”

“Mmm, kinky,” Angel said.

“I am so sending this to ‘Tino,” Velvette said.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

265 notes · View notes

my-proof-is-you · 7 months

Text

We Can’t Be Friends

Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!

Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.

A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)

You

Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.

Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair.

“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

”W-What?” You questioned.

“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”

You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.

You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try.

But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.

Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall.

Three Weeks Later

You

Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early.

Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand.

This person was not Sam or Dean.

You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder.

The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it.

“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face.

“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.

”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”

”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.

”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to.

A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.

”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun.

“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked.

Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual.

He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled.

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”

”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused.

You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged.

“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee.

You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude.

“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.

”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.

”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence.

One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident.

“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”

You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too.

You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.

”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.

”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”

Sammy.

We.

Vacation.

Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand.

Sam was dating her.

Sam

Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking.

He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask.

He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone.

He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction.

Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.

Danielle wasn’t you, though.

Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.

He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.

As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much.

Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.

Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.

”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.

”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

”Yeah…why?”

”Where’s Y/N?”

”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”

Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls.

“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond.

“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”

”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding.

“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance.

“Yep, all good.”

You

Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you.

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.

Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” you muttered.

“Y/N,” he said, staring you down.

“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh.

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.

”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”

Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”

”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in.

“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”

”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.

”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”

”Yeah. Oh.”

”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.

”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.

”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking.

“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.

”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”

It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle.

Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.

He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation.

Until now, that is.

”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.

You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you.

“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.

”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word.

“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”

You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.

”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked.

He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind.

A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that.

Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.

It wasn’t.

There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you.

You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs.

“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”

Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.

“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.

”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”

”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.

“You scared me,” he said quietly.

You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head.

“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself.

“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.

”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice.

Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.

“I made a mistake,” he said quietly.

“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically.

“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.

You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.

”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours.

“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”

”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued.

“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”

You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears.

You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.

Sam

It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.

Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh.

“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.

Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”

”Dean—“

”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.

”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”

Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”

”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you.

“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking.

Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.

He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.

You

You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours.

Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.

You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee.

You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.

”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.

He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you.

“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“

”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue.

“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”

You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.

”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.

”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not.

“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment.

Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him.

After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken.

You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”

His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss.

“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.

”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again.

You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we’re friends again,” you joked.

“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall.

“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle.

And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.

Being together was worth the risk.

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