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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

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Wild Horses

Part 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.

🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.

Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.

Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.

At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.

The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.

He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.

And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.

On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.

Now back to the current.

That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?

"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.

You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."

You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.

"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.

God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.

"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.

"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"

"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."

Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.

So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.

Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.

"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.

"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.

"Soap? How?”

"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."

"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.

“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.

“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”

“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.

“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.

"The fuck is that?"

".................cocaine."

"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”

You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.

"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”

"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."

Right. "What kind is it?”

"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."

"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”

"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”

Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.

“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.

“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.

“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.

“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.

“They’re downright hideous.”

“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.

Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."

"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.

As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.

The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.

That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.

He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?

It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.

And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.

"What time will you be back?"

"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."

“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.

"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.

The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.

"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.

"The fuck are those?"

"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.

"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.

"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.

“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”

Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.

But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.

“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.

“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.

Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”

“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”

“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.

“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.

“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.

“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”

"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.

Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.

You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.

“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”

“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.

When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.

But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.

During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.

The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.

As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.

He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.

You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.

The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.

“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?

“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.

You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.

“What-what happened?”

“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.

“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.

“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."

Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.

Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.

“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”

“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”

“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."

“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.

“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"

“No. No, I’m fine.”

"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."

"Of course."

The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.

Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.

"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.

"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.

"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”

"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.

“I will?”

"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."

"Oh.....okay."

Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"..............Hey y/n."

"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.

"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."

Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.

He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.

The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.

Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.

“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.

"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."

Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."

The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.

Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.

The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.

Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”

“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.

“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.

“Sorry?”

“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”

“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."

After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.

This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.

Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.

Now, moving on.

By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.

So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.

When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ghost?”

Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.

“Is everything alright?”

Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.

“You’re not hurt are you?”

“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.

“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”

“Another time.”

“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.

He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.

You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.

“Well? Whadya want?”

“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“

“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”

“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”

“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.

“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“

Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.

"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”

A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?

Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.

"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.

“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.

“…………….”

"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."

“……………………..”

“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.

Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.

Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.

“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“

"I'll do it."

“What-“

“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”

“Alrigh-”

“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.

"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."

Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.

"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.

“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."

"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.

"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.

And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.

"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"

".................."

"Right. I forget you don't speak."

Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.

"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.

"............."

A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.

More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.

"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."

You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.

“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”

“……………….”

Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.

“REM.”

“……………….”

Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.

“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”

Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.

There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.

While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.

You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.

When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.

“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”

Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.

Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.

“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”

“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.

“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.

As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.

Part 4

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spdrwdw · 3 months

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can u write something abt miguel and the reader being childhood best friends but they grew apart and then met again years later and get together?

Of course! I have been planning on making a series based on my childhood friend headcanons

Art By Shuploc

Pairing: Miguel x F!Reader

Warnings: None, no use of y/n. Warnings will change throughout the series. Each part will have their own warnings

Summary: You and Miguel were childhood bestfriends. You two did everything together, one never without the other. That is, until you both headed off your separate ways. Now, you move back to New York and bump into him. Will your old friendship with him continue? Will you get any closure? Also, who is this Spider-Man you keep running into?

A/N: So I am finally getting around to writing my childhood Miguel fic/series! I don't have a set number of parts this will be. Nor do I have a timeline of when I'm getting each part out as I am also going to be working on requests. But, I will put up a post for when I have a new part coming out a few days prior. This is going to take place in the future when you and Miguel are older. There may be flashbacks and I will be using my headcanons as inspo. POV will change from Miguel and reader. This is the prologue, giving us a little snippet of reader and Miguel when they were teens.

Word Count: 829

☆ Prologue ☆

Masterlist, WWWY Masterlist , part 1

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

"Hey, remember when we used to play pirates over at the jungle gym?" Miguel asked you as you both swung on the swings of your childhood playground.

You smiled and nodded your head, your mind drifting off to the wonderful memories of when you were both kids, playing with the other neighborhood kids.

“Of course I do. I was only the best thing ever!” You laughed as you continued to swing.

“The slides were our ship and the monkey bars were the only way to get to and from land. It was great, honestly,” you reminisced.

The sun was beginning to set, and Miguel couldn’t help but to stare at you for a moment as the sunlight caught your profile. And Miguel was in complete awe. They way the sun seemed to just glisten your skin, giving you such an angelic glow that he suddenly felt unworthy of. It made his stomach turn a bit.

He had been harboring feelings for you for quite some time, and he knew that if he didn’t confess them to you now, he knew he never would.

“Hey..I know this is gonna sound crazy, but, I want to tell you something,” Miguel started, suddenly feeling very nervous.

You looked over at him, a smile on your fine. “Hmm? What is it?”

God, that smile. It made his heart skip a beat every single time. He could stare at it forever. He wanted to.

So badly.

And yet…

“N-nevermind. It’s nothing,” he shook his head.

You raised a brow at him. “You sure, Miggy?”

Damn, that nickname. Only those closest to him were allowed to call him that. However, hearing you saying it tugged at his heart a certain way.

“Y-yeah. I’m sure,” he assured you, looking down at his feet as he continued to swing. The fact that the swing was able to hold him was a miracle. He had a huge growth spurt in high school that he stuck out like a sore thumb. Many thought that he was a basketball player with how tall he was. However, he was too bulky to be playing basketball, so he took on football instead. Not something he was planning on continuing on with. His passion was science.

“It feels so surreal, doesn’t it? In a few months, we’ll be going off to college. You better text me, Miguel,” you told him, a pout in your face as you looked over at him.

“Me oyes?”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Miguel chuckled, nodding his head. Of course he would keep contact with you.

He then looked back down as he stilled himself on the swing. He really needed to tell you before it was too late. It was already too late. You two were headings off to different universities. You’d only see each other during holidays and summer break. But, it could still work out, right?

Well, he’d have to tell you first.

And he was already chickening out.

You two had been through so much together. Had done so many things together. You were his best friend and he was yours. Since kindergarten, you two were inseparable. You were both each other’s first in..a lot of things. You had your first kiss with him. You were his first crush, and you both lost your virginity to each other. That..that was an experience.

Miguel didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to let you go. But, such was life, right? Plus, you both promised to keep in touch.

And you both were good about keeping promises.

Or so Miguel thought.

“Come on, Miggy. We should start heading back home. It’s getting late. And we need to be up early for tomorrow,” you told him as you let your feet touch the ground, putting your swing to a stop before getting off.

Miguel followed suit with a nod of his head, swinging himself as high as he could before jumping off, landing on his feet with a thud.

“You’re gonna mess up your knees,” you tsked at him, shaking your head as you began to make your way along the dirt path that led to the neighborhood sidewalk.

“Eh, I’ll be okay,” Miguel chuckled as he waved you off.

You both walked side by side, hands teasingly brushing against each other. Fingers threatening to intertwine. You looked up at him, and he was already glancing down at you. You never spoke about your relationship. What were you two, exactly? It wasn’t just friendship anymore. But, neither of you managed to bring it up. You wondered what his thoughts were.

Miguel walked you up the steps to your house, standing in front of you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled a bit.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told you.

“See you tomorrow, Miguel,” you replied with a smile just before Miguel leaned into you, capturingyour lips in a kiss.

Possibly what would be the last kiss you’d ever receive from him.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x you

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thoughtless-muse · 4 days

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a/n: the title (and some other parts of the story) are inspired by the song ‘bad blood’ by taylor swift and no, i am not ashamed of it lmao. this is my first time ever diving into this type of story, so I’m equal parts excited and terrified. if you have any critiques/tips, please let me know below! also, “scout’s honor” is by no means abandoned. I’m going to be writing/posting chapters of each story at their own pace :)

chapter summary: you had been alone for over a month now, combating against stumbling dead people who slobbered for your flesh. when a random stranger finds you in the aftermath of a blackout, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to join his group. but he did, and in a desperate move to escape those four walls, you accepted – not knowing at all what was in store for you.

word count: 2.4k

c/w: canon-typical violence/gore, sassy!reader, fem!reader, language, past-established relationship, very subtle allusions to a troubled past

prologue

“hey, lady, are you, uh… are you okay?”

the words were garbled and a tad distorted, and for a moment, you thought you’d merely conjured the voice from the depths of your frayed conscious — but the boyish face that stared down at you when you fluttered your eyes open threw that theory straight out of the window.

for a moment, you simply stared in silence. you stared at the boy’s face, taking note of the pink flush of life to his flesh — not gray, not rotted, not bloody; pink. his face was clammy, sweaty, with the skin pulled in different directions to paint an expression of worry; an honest to god expression.

a person. this was a living, breathing, real person standing above you. at least, he seemed real enough, but —

“are you real?”

the question bubbled, croaky and hoarse, past your lips before you could reign it in. the boy scrunched his bushy brows together and his squinted eyes narrowed until they were near closed. a clear expression of confusion. huh, another expression.

“um, yeah, I am.” the boy responded, though, in his bewilderment, the statement sounded more like a question than a fact. a laugh wrenched itself from your chest.

“you don’t sound too confident about that, mystery man.”

“I-I’ve just never been asked that question before.” the boy sputtered, a tad defensively, lips pulling into a frown. expression after expression from this one, it seemed.

“I haven’t had to ask that question before,” you grumbled out. pain pinched your ribs when you propped yourself up on your elbows, no longer feeling the need to lay flat on the warm pavement. “don’t exactly see new faces in the city much, let alone breathing ones.”

“you mean you’ve been in the city this whole time?” the boy exclaimed quietly; his eyes were wide now, revealing orbs the shade of dark chocolate. they weren’t fogged over, dead, or unseeing, but glassy and expressive. human.

a ragged, raspy croak broke off your sentence before you could even start it. your muscles jolted in response, but before you could react, the boy let out a shocked yelp that was followed quickly by a wet squelch right next to you. you trailed your eyes down to find a small hand-ax splitting the rotted flesh of the groaner to your right. the one you swore you’d killed not long ago.

“huh. thought I got that one,” you noted mellowly, swinging your eyes back up to the boy to give him a small nod. “thanks.”

“yeah, uh, no problem.” the boy panted, returning your nod. his eyes darted from side to side before he thrust out a hand to you. all you could do was stare at it.

“it’s not safe out here in the open. we should really get inside a building or something,” the man suggested, words edged with subtle nervousness. you scanned your surroundings slowly; there was a cluster of groaners shuffling towards you, but they were at least twenty yards away — not much of a threat given the granny crawl they were traveling at.

mystery man, however, became more nervous at the sight of them.

“c’mon, I know a place that’s clear. it’s not far from here.” he urged, extended hand trembling faintly. you let out a huff and grasped it with your own. your ribs bloomed with pain once again when the man hauled you up, but you bit back the groan that it prompted; you’d had worse than this, and you’d long since learned to suck it up and just keep truckin’.

when you were stable on your feet the man released your hand and reached down to free the hand-ax from the fallen groaner’s head, his face scrunching in disgust at the wet sucking sound the action elicited. it actually amused you to an extent.

“okay, mystery man, lead the way to safety.” you stated flippantly, manipulating your arm in a ‘the stage is yours’ sort of gesture. the man gave you a bit of a stinky side-eye before jerking his head to the left.

“it’s just this way,” he whispered. he padded to the sidewalk quietly, head whipping in each direction, body tense as if he expected a groaner to simply jump out unannounced at any moment.

what a scaredy cat, you thought jocularly.

“also, my name is glenn, not ‘mystery man.’” he added in a mutter.

you merely hummed in acknowledgment, more so for the man than yourself; you knew that by sundown he’d be gone with the wind, you’d forget all about this glenn fellow, and his name would be lost to your memory forever. no point in trying to stick it there in the first place.

silently, glenn led you through skinny, trashed back alleys and skirted past dilapidated structures, until at last he reached a large brick building. the door, which looked to be some sort of emergency exit, was a cool, gray metal, the hinges lined with rust and the surface slightly bleached from the harsh rays of the sun.

“it’s in here,” glenn murmured, grasping the handle and yanking it open. the hinges gave a deep, audible screech as he did so. “we cleared this out a few days ago.”

“we?” you parroted, trepidation flaring in your gut. it was fine when it was just glenn, but the thought of a group of people, one composed of unknown numbers, set off all kinds of alarms in your head.

groaners you could handle any day of the week; they were predictable, simple — just ambling corpses with no real thought process. humans… humans were different. complex, unpredictable, dangerous.

glenn noticed immediately when you hadn’t followed him through the threshold of the door; he glanced back at you, brows scrunched once more in confusion — it only took him a few moments to register the look upon your face before his eyes were widening and he was sputtering, “o-oh, it’s fine, my group isn’t – uh, they’re not dangerous. they won’t hurt you. and in any case, they aren’t w-with me today – I always make runs alone.”

“I’m s’posed to take your word for it?” you shot back, eyes narrowed dangerously. glenn gulped audibly and flicked his eyes between you and the interior of the building, lips working without producing any sound. he looked so helpless, like a lost puppy, that you couldn’t stop yourself from deflating.

“I believe you,” you uttered. “at least, I will for now. I mean, you don’t look all that dangerous. I reckon I could knock you on your ass in two seconds flat.”

a threat wrapped up within a petulant jab; not exactly your proudest moment, but part of you felt cornered, and it seemed to get the job done. glenn’s eyes flashed with surprise, and maybe a bit of fear, and his voice was less than stable when he murmured, “there’s no one else in there, I swear.”

the tense set of his shoulders, his wide eyes, and the shakiness in his voice seemed so genuine, that you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“are you actually scared of me, mystery man?” you jested, genuinely bemused by how sincerely glenn considered your concealed threat. was he actually taking you seriously? glenn’s throat flexed as he swallowed and nodded.

“well, I just watched you take down about a dozen geeks with just a pocket knife; so, yeah, kind of.”

you chuckled to yourself and gave glenn a once over. maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. he appeared genuine and harmless. kinda cute, too; in an innocent, boyish way, of course – boyish had never exactly been your style, but you could enjoy the aesthetic of it.

“well, glenn, why don’t you go ahead and show me around?” you purred, rolling his name across your tongue and not bothering to wait for a verbal confirmation. you pushed past glenn and into the dank, dusty building, eyes immediately sweeping across the bare shelves and stained walls. not a groaner, nor human, in sight.

glenn ambled further in and shut the door behind him with a soft whoosh and click. the room became near saturated in darkness, the only light being that of the sunlight filtering weakly through the gaps between the boards nailed to the windows. glenn wasn’t lying when he said it had been cleared out, but he didn’t mention anything about it being groaner-proof.

“is this, like, where your group stays or somethin’?” you inquired, your eyes narrowed and scrutinizing of every detail. there were no mats or makeshift beds that you could see, no visible provisions, and the space lacked the tell-tale signs of human inhabitance.

“oh, no, uh, this is just a rendezvous point – or, it will be. like I said before, I mostly do runs on my own.” glenn passed by you as he explained, coming to a kneel in the middle of the floor where the sunlight was most luminous. he slipped a large, beige bag from his shoulder and planted it on the ground, flipping the top and burying his hand inside.

“runs?” you wondered aloud, watching the man closely as he began to pull items from the bag one by one. medical gauzes, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, boxes of bandaids, a couple cans of vegetables occupied the space beside him bit by bit.

“yeah, runs. we made a camp a while back, at an old quarry just outside the city. food and water aren’t much of issue there, but other things” – glenn glanced up at you a bit sheepishly – “well, they run short sometimes.”

“so they send you out alone to get them?” you surmised, prompting an airy chuckle from the kneeling man.

“ah, no, I actually offered. I know the city like the back of my hand. getting in and out is no problem for me.”

you nodded your understanding, chewing the tender skin on the inside of your cheek – you were inclined to believe glenn, considering he had yet to prove himself untrustworthy, but there was something that was gnawing at you; something that you needed some clarification on.

“so, uh, if you came out here to get supplies, why’d’ya come over to me? and why did you bring me here?”

glenn paused his task for a brief moment before sighing softly. his lips thinned as he seemed to ponder how to answer.

“because I made a promise to myself. I told myself that if I ever ran across someone here in the city, I’d ask if they want to come back with me,” glenn answered quietly, though by the clench of his jaw, you could tell he wasn’t quite done with his explanation, so you bit back the other questions swirling on your tongue. “I guess I just hoped to myself that if the roles were ever reversed, someone would do the same for me.”

the residual tension that had been locking up your shoulders ever since entering the building drained away like a river to the ocean. you smiled softly and plopped down on the floor a few feet away from glenn. with a teasing warmth in your chest, you queried, “so you saw me and decided you wanted me to come home with you?”

glenn rolled his eyes, but the flush in his cheeks betrayed the effect your suggestive comment had on him.

“not like that, it’s just – it’s just that things aren’t as easy as they used to be. your best chance at survival is with a group.”

“I’ve done fine on my own,” you responded back flippantly, planting your palms behind you and leaning your weight back atop them. “I mean, I’ve been here since it started.”

glenn swiped his tongue over his bottom lip nervously, scanning through the contents on the floor before rapidly scooping them back into his bag.

“yeah, I, uh, I noticed that you’re capable. it’s just that – things won’t always be so easy, you know?”

irritation shot through your chest like a hot lance, your somewhat good mood ruined instantly.

“did I say it was easy?” you seethed, anger punctuating your every movement as you swung your hands back in front of you and leaned forward.

just as it had at the door, glenn’s mouth began to open and close rapidly as he tried desperately to recover. his wide eyes flicked down to your waistline, the area he knew held your pocket knife, and he scooted back a small bit while simultaneously dragging his bag in front of his body; an attempt to keep distance between the two of you.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that – that without a group, surviving will get harder and harder.”

you weren’t entirely sure if it was from lack of sleep, stress, or the cursed, buried memories that had been incessantly dragging themselves back up despite your multiple efforts to keep them down, but you had been highly irritable the last few days. every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, you heard his voice, taunting you with the sweet nothings he whispered long ago. you still felt his phantom touches that had long since grown cold.

you just wanted it to stop.

you wanted to find the strength to throw that little box out of the fucking window, and to burn that one shirt he left, the only things left to remind you that he wasn’t just some conjured fever dream. that’s why you’d been out in the street in the first place, drawing as many groaners as you could to yourself just so you could picture his face as you plunged your knife through their soft, rotten skulls.

and maybe, just maybe, find the strength to drop the knife and let it end.

but you just couldn’t. you couldn’t throw the box out, you couldn’t burn the shirt, and you most definitely couldn’t let yourself die; it went against everything he taught you.

with a sigh, you opened your eyes, which you had never even remembered closing, and regarded glenn once more. his eyes were still wide, clouded with something that was a mixture of nervous and worried, his hand trembled atop his bag, and his bottom lip wavered.

“you said you promised yourself that you’d invite whoever you found in the city to your camp, yeah?” you quizzed, the question one that glenn had not expected you to ask, if the brief confusion on his face was any indicator. after a moment’s hesitance, glenn nodded.

“yeah… our camp is pretty well established, and I know we’ve got room for others. does that, uh – does that mean you want to come back with me?”

you’d never second guessed your choices, nor the consequences of those choices, and you weren’t about to start now — so, with a cheeky smile and a wink, you purred,

“sure thing, glenn. I’ll come home with you.”

a/n: so I recently checked my analytics and uh… 114 followers?? what??? like I’m — I’m speechless y’all. thank you so so much I can’t even begin to express how much it means to me <3 I promise I’ll be doing my best to dutifully deliver content to y’all as fast as possible <33333

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theghoulgirl · 3 months

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Keith Kogane/Reader Headcannons- Section I

For these headcanons, this is specifically for Keith after the war. Therefore, I am going to make this an 18+ post because it would be super fucking weird if someone under that age read this. This is also the first part to an (currently) endless headcannons that I have.

Otherwise, enjoy! And please feel free to comment about any challenges against them or to apply your own for others to read!

In a friendship…

Would befriend someone who is either affiliated to the group or would be in ‘forced’ proximity with, such as work

He would connect well with someone who is a little bit of a goober, like Hunk or Lance.

Keith would also most definitely befriend a stoner and connect to them through trauma bonding

Home dude lost a lot throughout his life, he would absolutely use drugs and alcohol recreationally.

He also connects really well with individuals who are intelligent in ways that contrast his own.

Keith does not befriend someone based on physicality, but whether it’s on how much of an asshole you are. The less judgemental you are, the closer he will want to befriend you

It takes a looong time to break down his walls. Before you are able to, he’s generally awkward and aloof. But once you either prove or he can see you are trustworthy, he’ll start to occasionally drop a hot piece of trauma to see your reaction to it. If you react well and don’t judge him, he’ll open up more. But if you become uncomfortable with it, he will probably keep you an arms distance away.

Once you two are closer, most likely through quality time together (ex. Studying while he trains), he would get more and more playful with you.

Specifically also slowly reveal more and more of his silly side.

Poking you when he wants your attention and then pretending he didn’t poke you. Blames it on the air.

Keith would absolutely spar with you in the kitchen using utensils

He would occasionally crack a joke here and there as well

I also fully believe that Keith has ADHD, and if you have ADHD too, then it would just ricochet between the two of you. This would drive everyone absolutely insane.

One moment Keith could be discussing battle plans and then you walk into the room and make a random noise, and he would repeat it back thus losing all sense of authority and seriousness.

Eventually, as you two grow closer, Keith might also develop some feelings…

In a relationship…

He would not be the first person to confess.

Unless someone were to give him confirmation, then he’d contemplate it. Otherwise, the other party would have to approach him

Once y’all talk it out and are officially an item, he is going to be a little awkward and aloof again.

This man did not engage in courting behavior when he was in highschool. Sure, I’ll entertain the idea that some of his peers were infatuated with him, but he never actually pursued those relationships since he was focused on his own life problems and emotions.

Therefore, he does not know how to flirt or how to date someone.

But that does not mean he is not willing to try, especially for you.

But in other news, Keith has matured with time and is an amazing communicator.

He will let you know when he is uncomfortable with something, such as PDA.

Speaking of PDA, he would prefer to keep most physical touches in private.

Especially kissing.

But he does not mind holding your hand or resting his on your back

He would also let you know when he is getting nervous over not messing up the relationship. But all he needs is a little assurance that he is doing amazing and all he needs to do is be himself.

Once he relaxes more into the relationship and gets more comfortable, he would be unabashedly affectionate towards you. In private though. Outside of seclusion ? He would mostly stick to teasing you or light touches.

Section II coming soon!

Please also feel free to comment on more head cannons that you have! Or to give a contradicting thought!

#keith kogane/reader #keith x reader #keith/reader #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #keith voltron #vld keith #vld #voltron fanfic #voltron legendary defender #voltron

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whimsical-roasting · 10 months

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You reblogged that Sam gifs post and it reminded me of that headcanon i have of being Sam’s friend but you’re feisty and take no one’s shit. Like he’s always takes the high road and you’re like when they go low i go lowER. I would fight that Akufo dude for him no questions asked.

hi wifey <3 you are absolutely right!! i fucking love that idea of Sam having a bestie who'd throw hands for him.. it's on sight all the time.

special thanks to @sokkigarden for bouncing ideas off me, love you bby. okay, i wanna write about being friends w the AFC Richmond boys more, so if yall have ANY thoughts on being friends with ANY of the lads then send me requests on it so we can DISCUSS

OKAY BUT BEING BESTIES WITH SAM OBISANYA

he's such a wholesome and loyal friend... a breath of fresh air yknow?? Dani is more of that 'unconditional sunshine' energy, but Sam is positive whilst still keeping it real w you

and sooo you're hella loyal to him too. well, you're loyal to everyone you care about. you'd take a bullet for them, no questions asked, but probs a lot of cussing involved (same, but i'll come back to this)

sharing an airpod each if yall go out on a walk or join the team on a bus ride - if you're dating jamie then he NEEDS you next to him on the ride back, probs uses your shoulder to sleep on and has an arm around your waist so you can't leave, but that's a diff post ahahaha

having a shared spotify playlist that you both keep adding music too...the vibes are all over the place. "Y/N, I was trying to jam out to J.Cole, and then Adele came on??" "Oh yea, I was sad bout something earlier"

blanket forts and microwaveable caramel popcorn for when he's missing home

playing as him in FIFA when you're with the lads and yellin "YEA THATS MY BESTIE" every time you score as him

pinching his earlobes like his dad would for good luck on the days of a big match/when he's really nervous

since opening OLA'S, you join him when he attends small business owner conventions, but that's mainly to try the free food

since i'm vegetarian, telling him that his menu looks great but you can only stick to sumn like the jollof rice.. so next month when he invites you over to his restaurant for a catchup dinner there's a whole new lil section for vegetarian dishes on the menu (or whatever dietary inclusivr thingy etc.)

warning Sam about Afuko because "a man simply doesn't feed you pasta and lobster and send you a stack without something in mind" and him being like ??? what and you groan, "did you watch the tiktoks I sent you??"

hearing about how the Afuko rejection went and Sam only focusses on "he called me medium talent??" and you're SEETHING

you're like "what the living F U C K" and he's like "oh hey Y/N, don't worry, I know I am not medium talent" and you're like "what? no, shut up, obviously not, but that's not the POINT here. how did that ASSHOLE have the audacity to speak to you like that?!!"

you're searching up flights to Nigeria and opening a google map from the airport to Afuko's business residence or something, and Sam is like, "seriously, forget that guy. bullet dodged." and you're angrily muttering about how Afuko's gonna have to dodge the bazooka you're gonna smuggle onto the plane

"We cannot be best friends if you end up in jail because you tried to smuggle a bazooka onto the plane." "I just wanna talk to him...with a bazooka." "No." "Pleas-" "No."

telling Sam you might be getting feelings for Jamie and being nervous he'd be mad because of their relationship in S1, but you promise he's changed, and Sam is like, I know

wearing the Obisanya jersey and the rest of the boys are like 'hey why don't you ever support our merch' so like every match you're switching out jerseys before texting a pic to the groupchat

running into that Francis guy who's Afuko's right-hand man and "accidentally" stepping on his foot real hard like OOPS

giving him updates on your love life and vice versa. "Y/N, please tell me this one is not a loser." "Um, Sam, shut up; you know my rizz only seems to work on losers??" "hey, Jamie told me that telling a woman my favourite movie is Ratatouille is a bad idea... is it?" "just bake her a lasagna or something and say that's how you learnt to cook." "I am not doing that." "dammit, I thought we'd get lasagna for dinner"

doing random tiktok trends or challenges - the baking one where one person is blind, one is deaf, and one is mute, but they all gotta work together to bake a cake!! sam (tape around his mouth) x you (blindfolded) x jamie (loud ass headphones on)

jamie: pass the FOOKIN sugah!! *back turned to yall as he stirs the mix*

you: WHAT. WHERE. *randomly smacking shit, picking up the salt and dropping it on the counter and onto a spoon*

sam: mmmhnph! *waving his hands in your face like NO but you can't see*

you: *turning to jamie with a spoonful, which he probs tastes absentmindedly whilst stirring* OI TASTE THIS

jamie: FOOKS SAKE

#sam obisanya #besties with sam obisanya #sam obisanya x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt x reader #afc richmond

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excalibur-gone-missing · 12 days

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[TEASER]

Paring: seungcheol x you

Requested: no

Release date: 24-04-24

Genre: mafia au, reverse of getting kidnaped by the mafia boss, fluff, e2l, crack, assistant au

Warning(s): mention of abduction, guns?

summary: It was not supposed to be like this, it was a meticulous plan perfectly curated by you, Jun and Seokmin. You were supposed to go get the man who was the future heir of the Kim Corps named Mingyu, you ever had a pic of his. Most importantly it was definitely not supposed to be the man who now sits in your basement claiming that he is the leader of the mafia organisation you three work for.

words: 342

Other works

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: taglist is open, comment if you want to be tagged.

[permanent taglist][for those who want to join the permanent taglist]

“So, you are telling me these three, these newbies who literally didn’t have any good job for them to gain experience drugged your ass and took you to god knows where, and you couldn’t even put up a good fight?!”

Jeonghan exclaims looking at the seated, nervous and scared faces of the three of you from Seungcheol’s office’s glass.

“Apparently not”, the older man sighs.

“My friend are you sure you are a real mafia? Because in the light of the current happenings I am starting to question your integrity a lot.”

Jeonghan says as he barks out a laugh, taking pleasure at his friends’ humiliation.

The bitch continues to make fun of the older man.

“Or maybe you were too immersed in staring at the pretty lady to notice that you were getting kidnapped”.

“I just thought I was getting mugged, so I didn’t fight hard enough, who knew I would be kidnapped instead.”

Seungcheol grumbles pouting a bit.

“Which is even worse, because you are telling me you would have let people just mug you for no reason when you are one of the most influential people underground!” now Jeonghan did look pretty concerned about the statement his superior just spewed and he does indeed have a hard time accepting it.

“Ahh! Just get over with it and let me go and make sure the three of them face the appropriate consequences for not only abducting me, but also trying to abduct my friend”, Seungcheol barks out while walking out, thoroughly humiliated and annoyed that his junior was having fun at his expense.

So Jeonghan does what he is good at. Right after his superior leaves, he strides towards the group and says, “so because the boss has instructed me to do something with you three which will stop you guys from going off the hook, I’m going to assign you some jobs in the organisation because I can.”

Now, anyone even vaguely familiar with Jeonghan would recognize the expression he wore just before chaos ensued, but contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan is actually quite amiable—at least, that's what he believes, and that's what matters, right?

He continued, “Junhui, you’ll be overseeing the artillery division our deputy head Chan will ensure you are well informed about your job. You’ll meet him tomorrow. As for Seokmin,” he paused, a sly smile crossing his face, which made Seokmin visibly nervous, “you, my friend, will be our esteemed boss's driver. Lastly, y/n, you'll be his assistant. You'll meet Chan tomorrow too; he'll explain the workings of your new role.”

Normally, in any ordinary conversation, you wouldn't dare ask inappropriate questions, but the circumstances were far from normal, so you proceeded with the most audacious question you could muster: “Why did Chan leave his previous post?”

Jeonghan politely responded, “He left because the job didn’t suit him, so we shifted him to the artillery department as a deputy head.”

Unspoken was the fact that Chan had been worn down by the boss's relentless bullying, quietly requesting a transfer for at least three years before Jeonghan finally relented. Since then, the turnover of assistants had been alarmingly high. Jeonghan desperately hoped you would stick around. Moreover, if either you or Seungcheol objected to this arrangement, he had enough leverage to ensure you both compile.

Enough dirt to keep both of you in line.

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jay7543 · 17 days

Note

okay so I absolutely LOVED your king!Konig x reader! I was wondering if you could do a Mechanic Konig and male reader? So reader has absolutely no idea how to fix his car and he goes to Konig’s shop for help, it can be fluffy or smutty

I love your posts and I can’t wait for the next update!!

Your hot new mechanic, könig

M4m

Sfw

Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it, I feel like there needs to be more gay/ bi man stuff so I am happy to provide. It’s a bit shorter than my other stuff, but I might make a part 2 that has more spicy stuff, so let me know if you want that too

Feel free to make requests!!! Doesn’t have to be cod

You have had your car for a pretty long time, by all accounts it’s an absolute piece of shit, but you love it. Lately you’ve been having so many problems with it, every fucking light is on and you just don’t know at all how to fix it, and honestly, you don’t care that much either, but your friend told you about a new mechanic nearby, and apparently he’s hot. You decide to call him

Reader-“hello? I’d like to bring my car in”

You say hesitantly, really not wanting to spend the money but also not sure about this supposedly very hot guy

König-“Ja, sure, come in when you can”

He immediately hangs up the phone, not even asking your name, well, if he’s as good as you’ve been told then who cares. You drive to his shop, not far from your house. When you get there he’s already waiting outside wearing partly ripped jeans and a white, sweat soaked t-shirt, almost as if he’s trying to show off, you guess he doesn’t have any other customers. You park near him and get out.

Reader-“hey uh, I talked to you on the phone?”

He looks you up and down, taking in you and your average looking self. You do the same to him, yet he looks a lot better, his hands covered in dried oil, his shirt soaked in sweat, his bright blue eyes staring at you, you can even see his abs through his shirt.

König-“I know, so, what’s wrong with it”

Reader-“uh, well, I don’t know much about cars, every light is on though”

You say with a nervous smile. He keeps his blank look and sticks out his hand, assumably for your keys, you hand them to him. He opens your door and pops your hood, doing…well you have no idea, you assume he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you hear him yell

König-“Was zum Teufel! When was the last time you changed you oil, or changed the damn battery”

You look around, debating whether or not you should talk

Reader-“well…I guess a few years”

He peeks out from the hood and glares at you

Reader-“I can pay whatever you need, i-I just don’t wanna get a new one. I don’t know a lot but I really like this one you know”

You say quietly, getting a bit embarrassed and sentimental about your shit box car. His gaze softens and he nods

König-“well, it won’t be easy, nor cheap, but i understand, and I’ll get it done”

He closes the hood and walks over to you, only a few inches away, you blush a bit as you start to smell whatever cologne he has on mixed with his sweat, it smells oddly good to you.

König-“you know, you’re a very pretty man, I’m not surprised you don’t know much about cars”

He chuckles. You blush even more, he called you pretty!

Reader-“I uh…well I guess you’re right. And thanks for the compliment, you look nice too”

He smiles at your obvious nervousness.

König-“let me go get something for you”

He walks away and comes back a few minutes later, he hands you a set of keys to a nearby car, an average car, nothing special but a car nonetheless.

König-“since you clearly can’t drive yours, use one of mine, I do expect It back however”

Your mouth hangs slightly agape, he’s letting you borrow his car till yours is fixed? This has to mean he likes you.

Reader-“well I-can I get your number? So we can call and text about my car. I don’t wanna have to call your shop”

He smiles and exudes an aura of confidence, as if he was waiting for you to ask. He grabs a piece of paper out of his pocket and a pen he had to write his number. He he takes your hand and places the paper in yours, keeping it held in his

König-“you know, feel free to call me, even if it’s not about your car, I know more than just cars.”

He kisses your hand and leans in to whisper in your ear

König-“I also think I could please you. No?”

He smiles and pulls away, letting go of your hand. You’re so shocked that you can’t even come up with words to respond, you just nod and stumble over to the car he’s letting you borrow. You’re definitely gonna call him

#cod x reader #m4m #bisexual #gay #smut #cod smut #konig x male reader #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig smut #cod fanfic #cod fic #cod konig

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benkeibear · 1 year

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☰ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

⧫ Characters: Chifuyu, Nahoya, Souya

⧫ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

⧫ Summary: How they react when you tell them that you're pregnant

⧫ WARNINGS: mentions of pregnancy and childbirth (and children, oh no)

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)

☰ Chifuyu:

ꕤ Sweet Fuyu oh dear

ꕤ You would probably just buy a Baby onesie and the dense idiot that He is would put Peke J in it

ꕤ in all honesty, it was adorable but you had to break the news when you saw Peke J actually walk around in that thing

ꕤ “Fuyu, you know… The onesie wasn't for Peke.. It was for your son” you said flustered

ꕤ The cat was his son so what are you talking about??

ꕤ Chifuyu is stuck in a loading screen and then realized that you meant that you're pregnant

ꕤ He would immediately start to cry and ask if you're serious, hugging you oh so right, He always wanted a little family with you

ꕤ from that day on He would join to every doctor appointment to hold your hand

ꕤ Already completely in his dad role, reading books and going to courses with you

ꕤ Craving something at 2am? Don't worry, Fuyu here would drive everywhere at any given time just for you

ꕤ also gives the best massages to your legs & sore feet

ꕤ tries to be there for you as much as He can possibly be, after all it's his child as well

☰ Nahoya:

ꕤ Tricky one

ꕤ He did want a child or two at some point in his life but you two didn't actively try for a child

ꕤ You didn’t exactly know how to break the news or how He would react

ꕤ After 10 pregnancy tests and them all being positive you took all your courage and presented him the test without a word

ꕤ poor man went pale, looking at you with wide eyes and the smile wiped off his face

ꕤ “is this another of your little pranks?” He asked serious, thinking that this is nothing to joke about

ꕤ But when you shook your head, close to crying his smile returned again, pulling you Into his lap to hold you close

ꕤ “i’m really gonna be a dad, huh?” He hummed, sounding happy about it

ꕤ He needed a while to full grasp onto it all, not prepared at all but He was sure that it will all turn out alright, it always did with you

ꕤ joins to most doctor appointments, sometimes He just can't because of the restaurant and all but He tries

ꕤ home cooked meals, always according to your cravings

ꕤ reads up a lot of stuff online, like how to change a diaper or how to properly hold a Baby

ꕤ He is actually very happy with the situation and growing into the father role

☰ Souya:

ꕤ Baby boy oh no

ꕤ always wanted to have twins just like He and Hoya were, doesn't care for the gender

ꕤ did you two talk about children already? Yes. Did you talk about actually having them?...nope

ꕤ when you handed him some Baby plushies He smiled big and then it dawned him, the way you felt sick in the morning and everything

ꕤ immediately bursts Into tears - happy tears “a-am i gonna be a dad?” He sobs and You nod

ꕤ Souya was over the moon, holding you as close as possible

ꕤ He will talk to your bump every day, no matter how small it is in the beginning

ꕤ of course He joins to every appointment and when you find out you have little twin girls He was ready to burst from happiness

ꕤ They end up having SO many plushies

ꕤ He even buys you one of those pregnancy pillow thingies so you sleep better

ꕤ just like with Nahoya you get home cooked meals all the time

ꕤ is nervous about it but He goes to parent courses with you so He can be the best dad

ꕤ overprotective with you but it’s really cute

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #chifuyu x reader #nahoya x reader #souya x reader #chifuyu fluff #nahoya fluff #souya fluff #chifuyu matsuno #nahoya kawata #souya kawata #tokyo revengers chifuyu #tokyo revengers nahoya #Tokyo revengers Souya #Tokyo Revengers angry #Tokyo revengers smiley #repost ♡

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russellsppttemplates · 9 months

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I'm in this if you are (Lance Stroll)

Lance wants to show you how wonderful love can be

Note: english is not my first language. this is a long piece that I hope will keep the interactions back up (I love getting your requests and overall having you interact with the posts and having some random thoughts shared too!), so I hope you enjoy this piece as this is my first Lance request * nervous giggles *

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

Tw: mentions (bad) past relationships, curse words

my masterlist

"Is it okay if we meet up at the park instead?", you suggested to Lance over the phone, "it's only a five minute walk from work for me", earning an affirmative answer on the other side of the line as well as a farewell.

Packing your backpack with your laptop and a book you had to bring home for the weekend, switching everything off and ringing your card so you could get yourself out, heading for the park Lance was meeting you at.

It was something new, so you were being cautious. After all, you had fallen for people before who weren't good for you in the end, so you had learnt to keep your distance. But did you hope that maybe this time it would be different. The Canadian young man and you have been spending some time together after meeting through a mutual friend, and today was no different since he had texted you earlier if you would be up for a stroll in the park after you were done from work, having you accept it and even letting yourself feel giddy about it.

Following the directions he gave you, you saw him sitting in the bench like he had told you, getting up once he saw you and coming closer to you, "Hi, how are you?", he said, giving you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Hi, I've been good, very happy that it's Friday so I get the to be home for the weekend. And you, busy day?", you greeted him back and continuing to walk alongside him, "yeah, the meeting was about the last few things we need to sort out before the race next weekend, so it got a bit longer than I expected but it was all good, means I didn't have to wait too long for you, but I did get you these", he said, showing you a small white paper bag, leaving you to open it.

The small sticker that closed the bag was enough to get you to gasp, recognising your favourite bakery chain's logo, "you say they always run out in the shop they have near your office, so I dropped by the one close to the factory to see if they had some and they did", Lance smiled, seeing you smile back at him, "thank you! Do you want to go and enjoy these by the lake?", you suggested, seeing that it wasn't too busy around there.

Sitting down on the dry grass, you and Lance sat in front of eachother, talking about your day and laughing at funny moments from eachother's day while sharing the croissants he had gotten, "thank you, again, you didn't have to", you pointed to the empty bag, whisking any crumbs away from your lips and clothes, "it was only fair that I got to try "the best croissants ever" according to you, and since I had some time to kill before I met you here, and it is always a pleasure to see your eyes sparkle like that", he said softly, noticing the blush on your cheeks and your shyness coming through, taking the hint to keep talking, "and a croissant like this after a long meeting and at a park like this with this company, there's not much more than I want".

You were dancing around in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil so you could put the pasta in, singing to the lyrics before you phone stopped the song and instead made the sound of an incoming FaceTime call, seeing Lance's contact on your screen. "Hi Lance!", you greeted, waving at the screen, "Hey, you, am I catching you at a bad time?", he asked, lighting what looked like a nightsand lamp, "Just making dinner. Is this a good time for you though? You look like you're going to sleep", you cringed, propping your phone since one of the glss containers you had on your counter top so you could put the pasta in and still she Lance while he saw you in shot too, "I wanted to talk to you", he mused, "I saw your text, but they needed me to fix something on the steering wheel and just to be sure I called now because I was afraid you'd be working still and I would interrupt it", he reasoned.

Hoping the LED light that illuminated your working area in the kitchen hid your blushing cheeks, you managed to reply, "I was just checking in with you, seeing how it went. Aren't you tired or in need of sleep? We can talk another day, it's fine", you admitted, even though deep down you were enjoying his (virtual) company, especially seeing him like this, tucked into bed in his pyjamas and looking so handsome and soft, "I'm okay, don't worry", he yawned, "so, what are you cooking?".

Conversation flowed while you cut the vegetables so you could cook them in the pan, sharing the recipe with Lance and coming closer to the phone whenever you were letting things cook on their own, supporting your face on the palms of your hands while your elbows rested on the counter top, doing one final move to plate your pasta, "uhh, that looks good!", Lance exclaimed, seeing you top the dish with some cheese, "it usually tastes good, yeah, and it's also very quick to make. I began just when we started this call and we've been here for- oh, we've been here for nearly an hour! Lance, you could've told me! You probably need to sleep, I'm sorry that I kept you here!", you apologised, guilt overcoming your whole body. You truly didn't think you had been on call with Lance for such a long time, it was truly flowing and, above anything, feeling comfortable.

"You don't have to apoligise, I stayed here because I wanted to be with you and spend time with you, unless you're apologising because I bothered you", he hinted, "No! No, not at all, I loved sort of having you here with me", you hurriedly clarified, "I just didn't want to bother you or your sleep routine, it's really late where you are", you shot him another apologetic look, "I said none of that, no apologising for this anymore. I enjoyed having you here with me too", he smiled softly, "but if I don't go to sleep soon, tomorrow is going to hurt", he reasoned.

Sitting by your table, you propped the phone again against your bottle of water, "sleep is very important, Lanc-", you were interrupted by him, "but I need to know if the pasta is delicious or not, it's only fair", he winked as you rolled your fork on the plate, grabbing bit of everything and trying it, "it's amazing, I can confirm", you said, "you look like a little chipmunk, and your dimple is showing too. Totally worth it staying up this late", he complimented, leaving you to bid him goodbye, "goodnight Lance, have a good sleep", you whispered, switching off the call when Lance gave you the same wishes, giddily smiling at your pasta at his attentiveness, allowing yourself to be swept off your feet.

"Was it as good as your pasta, though?", Lance asked you as you walked along the city streets after leaving the restaurant where you had dinner. The small and cosy local restaurant was perfect for another date with Lance, your hand latched in his since you left the restaurant after thanking the owner for a great evening, "I'm not a professional, so this one was better, but my own has potential too, you know?", you giggled, allowing yourself to lean a little bit on Lance, pulling your bodies closer to one another, making him also feel your own easiness around him, which he appreciated. From the moment he met you, he knew you wouldn't be swept off your feet with elaborate dinner dates and fancy invitations to lavish places. Above anything, he noticed you were cautious, not that he thought that you were expecting him to do you any physical harm, but because maybe you had been emotionally hurt before. Because of that, Lance made it his mission to show you what love could be like, how beautiful and how simple two people who care about eachother could develop into something more.

Seeing a flower peeking out of a house fence, Lance couldn't contain himself and he plucked it, making you stop, "Here, look at me, please", he mumbled, tucking the flower behind your ear carefully, his eyes boring into yours, "I really like you, Y/N", he confessed, "and I won't pressure you into anything, I can wait. Damn, I'll wait forever for you if I have to. But I don't want you to go on without knowing this", he smiled hopefully, not knowing your reaction as he hadn't planned to do it like this.

Cupping his cheek, your thumb ran over his cheek, softly touching the corner of his lips in a silent question to know if he too wanted it before you leaned up to kiss him, pressing your lips in his for a tender kiss, pulling back to see eachother's reaction, only to crash his lips against yours passionately.

"I really like you too", you whispered, afraid to disturb the moment between you, earning a chuckle from Lance, "I should hope so, imagine if you were to tell me now that you despised me after that kiss, I don't think I could handle it", he placed his hand on top of his heart, earning him a small slap on his chest, "I'm trying to be serious with you", you whined, "So am I, Y/N, completely serious. I'm in this if you are", he said as he hugged your, kissing your forehead before kissing your lips again, "I think I found a new favourite thing to do".

"So you don't want to go?", Lance questioned, "it's not that I don't want to go and see you do what you love, it's the whole thing, Lance", you murmured, "I'd have to fly out on a different day, I'd have to sleep somewhere, and that whole thing needs to be accounted for, I need to sit down and look properly at all of it", you almost hissed at him, not enjoying the tone it came out of your mouth but going with it nonetheless.

"But I can pay for all of that. I am, in fact, paying for all of that, that's why I'm offering you to come to a race weekend", Lance admitted, frustrated that something so simple for him was causing a fight between you, "and that is one of my problems! I don't want you to have to take care of me like that, I can take of myself, I'm not dependent on anyone and I can do things on my own!", you admitted, voice shaky while you looked at him, "I need a minute, please", you said as you felt your eyes grow wetter, excusing yourself to go to your balcony.

You knew Lance had money, a whole lot of it, so much so that, realistically, you coming along with him to the race would go probably unnoticed in his bank balance, but that didn't mean you were totally comfortable with him paying for everything. You could take care of yourself, now you knew that, despite of years of previous boyfriends telling you it would be hard for you to make it on your own and by your own merit. And you were scared, because was this the way this was going to end? Had you been, yet again, blinded by a guy who wanted you to be what he liked, who wanted to build you to the image he wanted and needed you to depict?

Inside, Lance noticed the cold air coming from the small gap of the door to the balcony that you had left open, imagining how much colder it would be for you, standing outside, looking around in hopes to find what he was looking for.

You heard the door squeak as it opened, thinking to yourself it was just the breeze when you heard footsteps, thinking for a second someone had broken into your house uninvited, "I'd prefer if you didn't have a cold", Lance said softly as he draped a blanket over your shoulders carefully, not missing your stunned expression, "you're still here?", you managed to let out, "I, I thought you were going to leave, I didn't think you'd stay", you stuttered, "Why would I leave?", Lance asked and almost immediately he answered his own question: because that's all you've ever known. When things got complicated, they would leave you. So you naturally thought he would do the same.

"Y/N, I'm not going to leave you when we fight", Lance said, keeping himself close to you, holding himself against the railing, "that is a promise I intend on keeping to you, and I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure that I won't break it", he declared, "Can we talk about it though?".

Holding his hand in yours, you nudged him to sit in one of the chairs you had in your balcony, sitting in front of him so you could express what was on your mind, "this is a bad story from past experiences, so if you still want to make that exit, I promise I'll manage and forget what you just side", you suggested playfully, feeling him squeeze you hand tighter in his own, "I've been in bad relationships before, it probably does not come to a surprise to you, but some things still haunt me years after. I used to have a boyfriend that would get me presents, or he would pay for things, and for a bit a just took it down as he was being nice, but he slowly started offering things in exchange of something, like me changing what I wore because I would wear something he got me instead, or change what I ate, who I spent time with, ans slowly everything he somehow offered turned out to be because he thought I couldn't do it on my own, that I wouldn't ever be able to sustain myself independently, so he thought he might as well "help me" and change who I was in the process", you gulped, "and I only realised it later, when his supposed affection for me was only there when I complied with what he asked of me, and the moment I realised was a constant fight, day in day out, where he left and then he would come back and belittle so much into thinking that it was my fault he would leave and we wouldn't solve anything we were fighting about", you confessed, "breaking up wasn't even the hardest part, but the scars that it left me with are still here, that's why I thought you would leave, because you wouldn't want to hear my side and-, fuck", you wiped a tear that insisted on falling, going back to play with Lance's fingers after, "I love you so much, I care about you so much, and you make me feel things I've never felt before without any conditions", you looked up at him, seeing an expression that was a mixture of sadness, anger and maybe some revolt too.

Lance brought your hands together and kissed them, "thank you for sharing that with me, I appreciate it", he began, "and I'm so sorry that some bastard thought it was okay to treat you like that, because it is not", he squeezed your hands, rubbing his thumb on them, "you deserve to feel all the love in the world without anything in it other that love itself. I get to be loved by you and that is one of my biggest blessings, and I'll be damned if I ever make you feel less loved or less appreciated than you deserve. But that promise I made is true, I want us to always talk about something that we don't see eye to eye on, so we can understand the other's perspective, I don't want to run away from anything", he nodded for you to continue, signalling he was done.

"I'm not from the same social or professional sphere that you are, and that makes me wonder about this whole situation, like there isn't a way that I can keep up with all of that travel on my own", you admitted honestly, "and I don't know how I feel about you covering those costs, like, of course I want to go see you do your thing at the track, and be there to support you, to congratulate you when you win and to hold you when things don't go as well, even if it's not all the time, but all of that seems a lot", you explained the situation to the best of your ability.

"Can I go now?", Lance wondered, his hands still holding yours, "I don't want to sound like a prick, or like I'm flashing everyone of how much I have, but it is also true that I don't mind paying for those things. Truly. And I don't do it because I want some change from you in return. I do it because I am fortunately able to and because I want the people I love with me as much as they're able to", he said, moving his hand to caress your cheek, "I never want you to think for a second that anything that I offer, present you with or pay for is a way of manipulating you", he assured, looking for your own reassurance in your eyes.

You shuffled around in your seat, looking into those beautiful brown eyes you loved so much, "thank you", you smiled through your tears, "you don't have to thank me for loving you, I should be the one thanking you for trusting me and for letting me love you".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fic #lance stroll fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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fruitylo0pz · 1 year

Text

A New Start pt. 1 (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut (with some aftercare), NSFW, 18+, sub!Larissa, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation kink

Word count: ~3.7k

A/N: Okay, so this one turned out a lot longer than intended and has a bit of a slow buildup before the smutty part so it might not be for everyone. But I do hope whoever reads it will enjoy it! I actually liked writing it, and I found myself intrigued with Larissa being uptight and upper class and a bit of a prude. I think I just fell in love with the idea of Larissa being very "traditional" in the sense of being married to a man and then BOOM just having some sort of sapphic epiphany. I have proofread it, but as usual I post right before I'm off to bed so apologies for any mistakes.

____

Tall, blonde, beautiful and sophisticated. This must have been the fourth or the fifth time you had seen her at the store, and you had caught her staring each and every time. Whenever you looked back, she blushed and looked away as if she hadn’t just been eyeing you up. You smirked to yourself and this time you decided to pursue it, curious about the outcome. You hadn’t really ever done anything like this, but you had to shoot your shot with her.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I usually don’t do this, but I’ve noticed you staring every time I’ve been in this store and I had to try. Here’s my address. It’s up to you, but you’re gorgeous and I’d love to have you over for a glass of wine.” You winked and gave her a note with your address and number. This was so out of character for you and it immediately sent a nervous wave down your body.

She hesitantly took it and put it in her pocket, and it almost appeared like she was afraid someone would notice. “I’m involved with someone. Whatever you thought you saw was not the case, but thank you. Flattering.” She blushed and seemed embarrassed by the interaction, and you decided to leave her be. You didn’t want to get her in trouble. You were relatively new in town, and realised that people probably knew who she was pretty well.

You went home and put on a random movie you found on Netflix, trying to forget about her dismissing you at the store. Why did she even take the note if she wasn’t interested? You really had hoped she was different, but why would she be? She seemed classy, and she probably was just as classy as she looked. You decided to pour yourself a glass of wine to wind down when the doorbell rang. It was getting pretty late, and you didn’t really even know anyone in town but you decided to open the door regardless. You had a few colleagues you were getting closer to at work so you figured it could be one of them.

“Oh, I was not expecting to see you. Come in, please.” You were trying to wipe away your shocked expression when she walked inside, and she did not look happy.

“What you did was assuming and inappropriate. I am in fact married, and walking around stores giving out your address to strangers is a bold thing to do. Are you always that confident?” She looked at you with a stern look, but there was something else hiding in the back of her eyes that you couldn't quite read.

“So you went all the way over here to tell me that? You’re married, yet I found you staring and eyeing me up at the store numerous times. Forgive me for assuming anything at all, but if I was married, I wouldn’t do that. It’s a shame, because I could show you a very, very good time.” You winked and moved closer to her so she ended up backed up to the wall.

“W-well… Yes. You shouldn’t have done it. I wasn’t staring, I was just looking. Pretty cocky, aren’t you? You don’t know what you could give me.” She was clearly nervous and looked at you with furrowed brows, but whatever her eyes were trying to hide was still there.

“You were looking several times. I’m not cocky, but it’s pretty easy to tell when someone gives you a brief glance or they look at you several times. You fit into that last category. But don’t worry. Glad we sorted this out, and I won’t keep you. Go home to your husband. ” You gave her a sarcastic smile while eyeing her up before you opened the door. She hesitated but left.

You scoffed and shook your head. Why did she even bother showing up if she found herself so deeply offended by it? She could have thrown away the note and forgotten about the whole thing. Suddenly, the doorbell rings again and it’s her.

“Now, you listen to me. Do you know who I am? I am the headmistress at Nevermore Academy, and I am used to a certain amount of respect around here.” She pointed a finger at you and you moved closer.

“And I think you came here for a reason. I bet I could make you squirm within minutes. That uptight attitude does something to me.” Your eyes wandered down her perfect curves. She was wearing a cream white dress with matching heels. She looked stunning, but she probably always did.

“You really have no idea who you’re dealing with. How dare you speak to me this way? I don’t know where you work, but I could have you fired within an hour.” She tried sounding intimidating and threatening, but she was blushing. Your words got to her, but she did not want to admit it. You were however not too happy about the way she spoke to you, like you were inferior. You pulled her inside and pushed her against the wall.

“Okay, headmistress who also seems to be running this town. I told you to forget about it. But you were the one who couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself. Quick advice for the future; control your staring so you don’t give people the wrong impression. Eyeing people up when you’re happily married? That’s pretty unusual too. I’ll leave you alone from now on, and I’ll make sure to leave the store if I see you. Okay? Now, if you’re done berating me, you’re free to leave.” Once again, you open the door but she doesn’t move. Whatever she was hiding in her eyes was becoming more apparent. It swam to the surface in her deep blue eyes. It was lust. You were right all along.

Her entire demeanour changed. It was as if she let go of something that was holding her back, but she was still nervous. “I came here for a reason. And as for happily married? A man that doesn’t see me or love me? Frankly, I don’t love him either but in my position and him being an important businessman in this town breaking it off will just look bad. I have never been with a woman, and I have never found another female attractive, but there is something about you. Your confidence. The way you carry yourself.” She looked away, and she looked unhappy after talking about her unhappy marriage. Like she was ashamed of being trapped with someone who didn’t even care for her.

You put a finger under her chin so she was forced to look at you. “I don’t understand how he can ignore someone like you, and not even look at you. You’re a goddess. You’re absolutely stunning. Do you think I go around handing out my address and phone number to strangers? I have never once done that before, but I found myself infatuated with you. I had to take a chance eventually. You should be worshipped.” You wiped a tear that fell from her eye. She wasn’t used to hearing words like that, you could tell that much.

“My name is Larissa. I realised I never told you that. And thank you for your kind words.” She smiled gently and blushed, and she clearly liked your compliments.

“Hi, Larissa. Very nice to meet you, and learn your name! I was just having a glass of wine. I realise I’m pretty much a stranger to you still, but would you care to join me?” You looked at her with a questioning look, hoping she would stay.

“Thank you, Y/N. That sounds lovely. It’s not like he would notice that I’m gone anyway.” She gave you a light chuckle and you helped her with her coat before guiding her to the sofa. You went to the kitchen to fetch a glass and the wine bottle before pouring her a glass.

“So, Larissa. Headmistress, huh? That’s pretty impressive. A colleague of mine told me about Nevermore. Sounds pretty cool! I think it’s great that you have a school for outcasts where they can be themselves. Society is too quick to judge people that deviate from what they think should be the norm.” You shook your head and took a sip of your wine.

She looked shocked at what you just said, like she had never heard anyone talk about outcasts without judgement or resentment. “I… Thank you. I should probably mention that I am a shapeshifter. And I am not used to anyone saying things that aren’t filled with disgust or hatred for us. Especially not a normie.” She gave you a soft look that almost screamed “thank you” and you could tell that she already felt more comfortable.

“A shapeshifter?! That is so cool! So you can shapeshift into anything you want?” You were genuinely excited about her confession, and you truthfully had always found outcasts interesting and fascinating, and you would always defend them if they were brought up in discussions.

She laughed, and her laugh was so delightfully genuine and the most wonderful laugh you had ever heard “Yes, I can shapeshift into anything I want. It’s not a power I use very often, but it can come in handy at times. But enough about me. What about you? What brought you to Jericho?” She put her elbow up on the back of the sofa and leaned her head on her hand. She looked curious and like she really wanted to know more about you, and not like she had asked as a form of courtesy.

“My girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend, and I don’t really have any family I talk to. I needed a new start, and I was looking to get as far away as possible and ended up here. I work as a web developer, and I found a job with a company here. And that’s how I ended up in Jericho! I really like it so far.” Thinking about your ex annoyed you, and talking about her made you even more annoyed.

She looked at you with an almost horrified look on her face. “Y/N, that is terrible. But on the other hand, they both showed you who they really are, and I’m glad you got away from them. But I am sorry to hear that you don’t have any close ones. Aren’t you lonely? Being in a new town all alone?” She moved slightly closer, still with a horrified and almost sad look on her face.

“I am an introvert so I enjoy my own company. I haven’t been in touch with my family for years and they don’t accept me for who I am. When I came out, they gave me an hour to pack up my things and I never looked back. I’d rather be alone in a new town than with people who can’t accept me for who I am.” You gave her a reassuring look, and noticed that she had moved even closer again. She was looking intently at you, almost as if she wanted to give you all the caring and love she felt like you had been missing.

“You went through more than you deserved. I might not know you that well, but I can tell that you’re a wonderful human being. You should always be able to be yourself, and no one should judge you for that.” She took your hand in hers and you twitched at the touch. Her skin was soft and warm, and it felt like electric shocks pulsated through your body.

“It’s fine now, I feel nothing when I think about them. I am better off without them. But thank you, truly. You’re a beautiful human being yourself.” You felt liberated in her presence, and it was so easy to talk to her. She was so different than she had first seemed, and you thought it might be the wine but mostly it felt like she just let go of the outer shell she so often had to carry.

She moved even closer and her eyes met yours in an intense stare before she gently grabbed your hand again. “Did you really mean those things you said to me? Those… Those nice things?” She blushed and looked down, still holding your hand.

“I did, Larissa. I think you’re absolutely breathtaking, and I also do believe that you should be worshipped like the goddess you are.” You moved slightly closer and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb to show her that you meant it. She seemed insecure, even though you had no idea how that was even possible.

“Would you… Uh… Show me?” She looked at you with the most genuinely innocent look you had ever seen and it made your core tense up into a string of heat immediately.

You leaned forward to kiss her, and she eagerly responded and let out a whimper into your mouth before your tongues started dancing in a slow, intense dance. It felt so right, so warm and so filled to the brim with sparks and emotions.

“I’ll show you. Just be a good girl and follow my lead, and I’ll make you feel things you have never felt before.” Your lips swept gently down her jaw towards her neck before you left tender kisses and she let out a deep groan. Your hand moved to her back and you were about to pull down the zipper to her dress when she pulled away.

“I… I don’t think I can do this. What do you want with an older lady like me? You should find someone your own age.” She fiddled with her hands and looked down.

“Larissa, I want you. If I wanted someone else, I wouldn’t have left my address with you. Now, please… Let me take care of you. Let me see you. Let me feel you. Let me taste you.” Your hand gently cupped her chin and she looked you in the eyes.

She blushed and gave you a smirk you didn’t know you had been waiting for, but it was all you needed in that moment “I don’t have any clue what to do, but… Your words make me feel things I have never felt before. If you want to see me… Let me show you. Take me to bed?” She got up and you followed her before grabbing her hand and taking her upstairs to your bedroom.

“I do want to see you, so please… Show me, if you want to. If you don’t, there is no pressure.” You let your hand gently stroke her cheek so she knew that she really didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

She pushed you down on the bed and the lust in her eyes filled them entirely. “Tell me what to do. I want you to use me.” She bit her lip and her hand wandered from her neck and down her body.

“If you’re absolutely sure, I will gladly tell you what to do. Use the word “torch” if you want me to stop or you’re feeling uncomfortable in any way, okay?” You took her hands as a way of showing her that her feeling safe was important to you.

“I will use the word “torch” if I’m uncomfortable. And I am absolutely sure. Now please… Use me like the dirty whore I am for you.” Her words made your eyelids flutter, and hearing her say something so filthy with her heavenly voice and that accent was almost too overwhelming.

“Strip for me. All of it.” Your voice was firm, and you leaned back on your elbows, following her every move.

She reached to her back and pulled down the zipper. The way she looked at you with a sweet mixture of innocence and desire drove you absolutely insane. She had been an uptight upper class lady an hour ago, and now she was referring to herself as your dirty whore. She let her dress fall to the floor, and you found yourself in awe, mouth agape with hunger for her. She unclasped her bra and pulled down her panties while gently rolling her hips.

She moved closer and discreetly spread her legs a bit as an invitation. Your reassurance and compliments had wiped away her insecurity and it thrilled you. She should feel like the goddess she is, and she should feel appreciated. “Please touch me.” The tone of her voice was filled with a lustful desperation, and you couldn’t control yourself any longer.

“On the bed. Spread your legs.” You watched as she crawled onto the bed and laid down before spreading her legs. Her inner thighs were dripping with her arousal and you got on your knees between her legs before leaning down to kiss her chest. Your mouth drew a trail towards her breast before you bit her nipple and she whimpered. Your hand travelled down her stomach before it found her mound and you groaned when you felt how wet she was. Your fingers started drawing lazy circles on her clit and her breathing got heavier.

You continued kissing down her stomach, and she was already twitching underneath you. Her skin was soft and warm, and you could feel her legs spreading more and more before your lips found her clit and you gently sucked it. “Mhh, Larissa. You taste so fucking good.” She gasped, and you let your tongue trail up her slit before you started circling her clit in slow circles while you shifted position and let your fingers trace her entrance.

Your tongue picked up the pace a bit and you felt her fingers in your hair. You let two fingers slide slowly inside her and her walls immediately clenched around you as she once again gasped and let out a filthy moan. “Oh, Y/N… I need more, p-please.” You added another finger and she screamed out, meeting you in the thrusts. Your tongue kept working on her clit while your fingers pumped hard and deep. The way she was clenching let you know that she was close and you shifted position a bit so you got closer and your tongue started circling harder on her clit. Her moans became louder and louder until she began squirming and shivering as she exploded in a loud orgasm and released a warm wave of her sweet arousal over your fingers while screaming your name. You let her ride it out and slowly pulled out your fingers when she had calmed down enough.

Suddenly, she turned over and got up on her knees. “Please. More.” She looked at you and begged you with her eyes.

“Aren’t you a desperate little whore for me, hm? Can’t get enough, can you?” You spanked her and she whimpered.

“No, I can’t get enough. Please fuck me. Make me yours. Use me, use me like I’m your toy.” She spread her legs, and you shoved your fingers inside her soaked cunt. You started thrusting hard and deep right away and it was an exhilarating feeling having her in your complete and utter power and on her knees before you. It didn’t take long before you could sense that she was close again, and you spanked her before fucking her harder. She tipped over the edge and came in a loud orgasm, and you continued fucking her to her delight.

Her eyelids fluttered and she was panting while her arousal poured down your hand with every thrust, and her orgasms kept coming as her legs spread more and more. She clearly loved being used by you as she cried out in whimpers and moans while coming over and over again, each and every orgasm just as loud and intense. Eventually, you could tell that she was overstimulated and exhausted and you let her ride out her last orgasm before you gently pulled out your fingers and leaned forward to kiss her back.

You went to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth before gently cleaning her up. She had moved to the side of the bed when you came back and she smiled when you looked at her. “Y/N… That was incredible. I don’t know what else to say. No one has ever… Well… With their tongue…” She blushed and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How on earth is that possible? Well, I am honoured to have been the first, because you taste like heaven.” You winked and kissed her before stroking her cheek. She blushed at your words and chuckled lightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. For making me feel the way you made me feel. No one has ever made me feel this desired before. This is the craziest thing I have ever done, but nothing has ever felt so right.” She looked like she was in complete awe, and she stroked your cheek. Her touch was so soft and caring, it almost made you melt.

“I am so glad I handed you that note, no matter how inappropriate it might have been. Oh, and… Would you like to stay the night? Or do you have to go?” You looked at her with a look that you hoped told her that you were dying for her to stay.

She looked at the time and sighed. “I’m afraid I have to leave. But if you’re free tomorrow, perhaps you would like to come and keep me company when you finish work? I have a long workday tomorrow, and I have a private flat at the academy for when I have busy days. I know it’s unfair, but I’m afraid this is how things will have to be, at least for now.” She stroked your cheek again, as though she was trying to apologise.

“I would love to, Larissa. The thought of fucking you in your office is a very thrilling thought.” You gave her a sly wink and she chuckled.

She got dressed and you followed her downstairs. You took a peek out the window and made sure no one would see her leaving. She leaned down to kiss you again and looked into your eyes before moving towards your ear. “It’s as if I can still feel your fingers inside me, Y/N. I’ll dress up nicely for you tomorrow.” She bit your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You had awakened something in her, and you were the only one who could feed it.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x y/n #principal larissa weems x reader #wlw #f!reader #larissa weems fanfic #gwendoline christie

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