#operator x reader

Oh, they ARE fortegreen, aren't they?! I KNEW IT. I KNEW THEY WERE FORTEGREEN. I haven't see anyone else acknowledge that and I was going a little insane about it already... Anyways YES, ABSOLUTELY, LET'S FUCK THE OPERATOR 💯💯

warnings: noncon, dubcon to consensual.

Gustave Kateb is the most prominent doctor in the Rainbows team. People come to him with all of their concerns and trust him with the most vulnerable parts of themselves. So what happens when you come along and make him realize that he should take care of himself, too and that he should put himself first? Choose-Your-Own-Adventure! Playable Story - Doc (Gustave Kateb) x reader

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The Stadium lay dormant as everyone had gone to sleep for the night, except for those on night duty and the operators who refused to rest until their work for the day was done. Gustave was one of those operators. He was locked in his office, working away at a stack of papers, hoping that the night would pass quickly so he could focus on something other than just his work.

Files upon files of recently admitted recruits and new operators led to a backlog of medical information that needed to be digitised. He had no assistant in this task, only himself and his lukewarm coffee, which he had left abandoned in the far corner of his desk as he transcribed every piece of paper that sat at his desk. Manila folders covered both sides of his desk, leaving him with just enough space to type on his keyboard and nothing else.

He leaned back on his chair, hand wiping over his eyes and pulling down in a bid to keep them open. Exhaustion began to settle in long ago, but Gustave wouldn't let himself succumb to it. He needed to finish this work. As he looked back at his work, his stomach let out a rumbling and jarring sound. He was hungry and had forgone lunch in order to finish up. That was 5 hours ago, and he still hadn't made a dent in his work. As he began typing away on his keyboard, he heard a knock on the door to his office.

“Come in.” His voice was hoarse and tired; any energy he might have had was gone after nearly a full day of just working in the clinic.

Genre/Word count: slow-burn/3.6k

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Chapter 11 - After the Storm

By the time the mission ended and the squad returned to base the adrenaline had mostly burned off, leaving behind that strange, heavy quiet that followed intense operations. Gear clattered into lockers, radios were powered down, and operators drifted away in small groups toward showers or the kitchen.

You slipped out before anyone could start asking questions.

Not because you had anything to hide.

Definitely not because every time you looked across the room you caught Maestro already looking at you.

Your boots carried you toward the observation deck on the far side of the base, a place most people ignored this late at night. The lights were dim, the wide windows looking out over the dark landscape beyond the facility.

It was quiet.

Exactly what you needed.

You leaned your forearms against the railing and exhaled slowly, letting the cool air settle the leftover tension in your shoulders.

The door behind you opened a minute later.

You didn’t even turn around.

“You follow everyone after missions?” you said.

“Only the ones who run away.”

You glanced over your shoulder as Maestro stepped onto the deck. He’d ditched most of his sleeve, rolled up, hair slightly mussed like he’d run a hand through it too many times.

“You’re assuming I ran.” you said.

“You disappeared suspiciously fast.”

“Maybe I wanted quiet.”

He walked closer, slow and unrushed, stopping beside you at the railing. The space between you was comfortable this time, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his presence.

Neither of you spoke for a moment.

The silence wasn’t awkward.

Just… full.

Finally, Maestro rested his arms on the railing besides yours. “You handled yourself well today.”

You huffed softly. “That's the nicest thing you’ve said all week”

“I have said plenty of nice things.”

“You insulted my aim.”

“It needed improvements~”

You nudged his shoulder lightly with yours. “You’re unbelievable.”

He chuckled quietly, then the mood shifted again.

Not suddenly.

Just slowly, like the air between you had decided to lean in closer.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said.

You stared out through the glass. “Just thinking.”

“About the mission?”

You hesitated. 

“...Partly.”

Maestro turned slightly toward you, studying your expression with that careful attention he had when he wasn't hiding behind those jokes.

“And the other part?”

“The hallway.”

For once, he didn’t make some teasing comment. 

His gaze softened.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“The hallways.”

Your fingers drummed lightly against the railing. “That was… unexpected.”

“You did not seem to hate it.”

Heat flickered across your face. “You’re very confident about that.”

“I have good instincts.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you.

A light breeze slipped through the slightly open window panels, brushing loose hair across your face. Without thinking, Maestro reached over and gently tucked the strand behind your ear.

The movement was small.

Careful.

Your breath caught slightly at the contact.

Neither of you moved away.

“You’re staring again bella.” he murmured.

You grounded softly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Never~”

Your head tilted slightly as you studied him now, really looking this time. “You know,” you said, “for someone who spent weeks pretending to hate me…”

Maestro lifted an eyebrow. “Pretending?”

“...you kiss pretty confidently.’

That earned a soft chuckle.

“I did not hate you,” he said.

“You called me a walking problem.”

“And you are.”

“And yet you followed me out here.”

He leaned a little closer now, his voice slightly dropping.

“Maybe I like problems.”

Your pulse skipped.

“Dangerous preference to have.”

“Yes,” he agreed softly.

The space between you closed almost without either of you consciously deciding to move. This kiss was slower than the one in the hallway. Not fueled by adrenaline or chaos.

Just warmth.

His hand rested slightly against your arm, thumb brushing against your sleeve as your lips met.

The outside world stayed quiet.

No alarms.

No gunfire.

Just the soft hum of the base and the steady rhythm of breathing when you finally pulled apart again.

You rested your forehead briefly against his shoulder, shaking your head.

“This is a terrible idea.”

Maestro smiled faintly.

“Probably.”

“You glanced up at him. “You don’t sound too concerned.”

“I am not.”

You laughed softly under your breath.

For the first time since you’d joined the team, the rivalry between you didn’t feel like a wall.

It felt like something else entirely.

Something warmer.

Something dangerous in a completely different way.

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Chapter 12 - Sparks

The squad had claimed the rec room after a long mission; a rare moment of downtime. Operators lounged on couches, some scrolling through tablets, others leaning over the table playing cards, the low hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. You were sitting near the far side, stretching your shoulders and quietly sipping a protein shake, enjoying the brief peace, when someone slid onto the seat next to you with an exaggerated grin.

“Hey, so I saw you handling that intel breach yesterday.” Twitch said, her tone teasing as she nudged your shoulder lightly. “Not bad for someone who’s always pretending to be all serious.”

You smirked, returning the nudge. “Careful, I’m serious when it counts.”

“Ohhh, I know,” she said, leaning just a little closer, her bright eyes scanning your face. “But I also know you have a… competitive streak.” She tilted her head, teasing.”Ever think about letting someone else win for once?”

You laughed softly, shrugging, your pulse slightly kicking up. “I don’t play to lose.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Hmmm… maybe I should challenge that.”

Before you could respond, the corner of your eye caught his; Maestro standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. One eyebrow lifted, dark eyes fixed on the two of you. His presence made the room feel smaller, and the air heavier.

“Bella,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. His tone had that subtle edge, the one that said I see exactly what's going on.

You glanced back at Twitch, who gave you a cheeky wink. “Go ahead,” she whispered playfully. “I won’t bite.”

“Right,” you muttered, gripping your cup tighter.

Maestro took a slow step toward you, the light hu of the rec room seems to fade fase. “You shouldn’t let her get to you.” he said softly, voice low, almost dangerous in its calmness.

You swallowed, trying to stay calm. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he replied.

Twitch noticed, tilting her head with a teasing smirk. “Wowww, you’ve got an admirer.” she, glancing between you and him, clearly enjoying the effect.

That was all it took. Maestro’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and his hand brushed against yours, a light touch, enough to make the air between you crackle.

“Excuse me.” he murmured, voice soft but firm, before gesturing toward the hallway. “Come with me.”

You hesitated for a moment, catching Twitch’s playful grin one last time, then followed him out of the rec room, leaving her behind, smirking. The door closed softly, and the quiet of the corridor wrapped up the two of you.

No teasing, no jokes. Just the tension, close proximity, lingering in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Maestro glanced at you once, expression unreadable. “We need to talk,” he said.

You nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. The burn between you had just turned up another notch.

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Chapter 13 - Jealous confessions pt1

The hallway outside the rec room was quiet.

Too quiet.

The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the distant laughter and chatter from inside. For a moment neither of you spoke. Maestro walked a few steps ahead before stopping near the end of the corridor, turning to face you.

You crossed your arm. “Well that was dramatic.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Was it?”

“Yes!” you said. “You dragged me out of a room.”

“I asked you to come with me.”

“You did it like a man issuing orders.”

“I was issuing orders.”

You huffed a laugh despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

But the amusement faded when you noticed the way he was looking at you. Not teasing. Not smug.

Focused

“Do you enjoy provoking me?” he asked,

You blinked.”...what?”

“In there,” he said, nodding his head toward the rec room. “With Twitch.”

Realization dawned slowly. You tilted your head.

“...You’re jealous~”

Maestro scoffed quietly, but the clench in his jaw betrayed him. “I am observant.”

“You're jealous,” you repeated, a grin creeping across your face. 

“I am not.”

“Maestro.”

“Yes?”

“You dragged me out of the room.”

His gaze darkened ever so slightly.

“You were enjoying it.”

You leaned against the wall behind you, folding your arms. “Maybe.”

He stepped closer.

The distance between you shrank by half.

“You let her flirt with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You flirt with me all the time-”

“That Is Different.”

“How?”

He stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“Because,” he said, his voice getting softer, “I mean it.”

Your breath caught.

The teasing grin faded from your lips, replaced by something softer.

“You mean it.” you repeated.

“Yes.”

The hallway suddenly felt much smaller.

You could hear the faint hum of building systems, the distant voices from the rec room, but everything else faded beneath the weight of the moment.

“You’re still jealous though,” you murmured.

His mouth twitched.

“Perhaps.”

You pushed off the wall, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you.

“Good,” you said softly.

Maestro blinked once, clearly not expecting that response.

Your hand reached up, lightly gripping the front of his shirt.

“I like knowing you care.”

His hand moved instinctively to your waist, warm and steady.

“You are trouble,” he murmured.

“You knew that already.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your side, slow, sending a shiver up your spine.

“You should not encourage me,” he said quietly.

“You should stop pretending you don’t like it.”

For a moment you  just looked at each other.

Then he leaned down and kissed you.

This time it wasn’t the short, surprise kiss from the mission. It was slower, deeper, built from weeks of stolen glances finally catching up.

You hand tightened around his shirt as you kissed him back, pulling him closer.

He let out soft groans against your lips, one hand sliding from your waist to your butt, drawing you flush against him.

The contact sent a hot rush through you.

When you finally broke the kiss, It was only long enough to breathe.

“You’re still jealous~” you whispered. 

He let out a soft laugh against your forehead.

“...yes”

“Good”

His fingers brushed along your jaw before he kissed you again, this time softer.

The hallway was empty.

Still quiet.

But the tension shifted, your interactions were melting into something warmer… something far more dangerous.

When you finally stepped away, your pulse was racing

“We should head back to the rec room,” you said.

Maestro studied you for a moment.

“I could walk you to your room instead.”

Your heart skipped.

“That sounds like a bad idea.”

“Probably.”

Neither of you moved for a moment.

You took a small step backwards, toward the corridor leading to the dorms.

“Goodnight, Maestro.”

He watched you go, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Goodnight, bella.”

But the way he looked at you made it clear.

This conversation was nowhere near over.

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Chapter 14 - Midnight Visits pt2

Door clicks shut at 1:25 am.

Maestro’s already inside, arms crossed, smirking like he owns the room.

“Took you long enough, bella. I thought you’d chicken out.”

You lock the bolt. “I don’t chicken out. I was making sure no one saw your dramatic ass trying to sneak in.”

He pushes off the wall, closing the distance. “Admit it. You were nervous.”

“About who? You? Please.” You tilt your chin up. “I just don’t want the whole base hearing your ego when I kick you out.”

“His laugh was low,”You won’t kick me out.” He stops an inch away. “Not tonight~”

Heat rolls off him. You feel your pulse skipping.

“Still jealous of Twitch?” you tease.

His eyes narrow, playfully. “You enjoyed that little show, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders. “She’s cute when she flirts.”

He pins you against the door, one hand braced beside your head. “And I’m what? Chopped liver?”

“You’re loud, Possessive. Annoying-”

His free hand slides to your hip, thumb pressing just hard enough. “And you like it.”

Your breath catches. “Prove it.”

Challenge accepted.

He leans in, lips grazing your ear. “I’ve spent weeks picturing this. You. This bed. Me making you forget every other name but mine.”

You swallow. “You’re talking big.”

His mouth drags along your jaw. “Big everything, bella.”

A shiver trails up your spine. “Cocky.”

“Accurate.” He nips your earlobe. “Turn around.”

You listen, slow and deliberate, making him wait.

His chest presses against your back. One arm bands your waist. The other hand rests on your throat–not gripping, just resting.

“Look at the mirror,” he says.

Your eyes catch your reflection: cheeks warmed with a deep blush, parted lips, his head bent over your shoulder.

“See how pretty you are when you’re trying not to beg?”

“Maestro-”

“Shhh.” His lips drag along your neck. Mouth opened. Hot. No teeth. “Not yet.”

His hand slips under the hem of your shirt. Palm against bare skin. He doesn’t move upward. Just spreading his fingers, slowly claiming you inch by inch.

Your head tips back against his shoulder.

“Good girl~” he breathes. “Stay just like that.”

The words hit low. Your thighs pressed together instinctively.

He notices. Of course he does.

“You’re already so wet for me?”

You don’t answer. Don’t need to. His chuckle is like velvet against your throat.

His hand finally travels up, torturously slow–until his thumb brushes the underside of your breast. Circles. Never touching where you want.

You whimper.

“Words, bella.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

Anywhere. Everywhere. You can’t think enough to be specific.

He knows.

His thumb grazes your nipple, soft and fleeting. Your back arches slightly.

“There?” he teases, circling again, even softer. “Or…” His other hand slides down, fingers dipping under your waistband. Not inside. Resting. Warm. Threatening. “...here?”

Both. Fuck. Both.

He laughs quietly at your soft frustrated sounds.

“Patience.” He kisses the hinge of your jaw. “I’ve waited weeks. You can wait a few more minutes.”

His fingers finally slip beneath the fabric, a slow drag along your folds, collecting slick without pressing where you ache most.

“All this from me barely touching you?” he mutters, almost reverent.

Your hips rock forward.

 He pulls his hand back instantly.

“Ah-ahh. Not yet.”

You whined.

He turns you around, backs you against the door. Cages you with both arms beside your head.

“Look at me.”

You do.

His eyes are black, pupils blown.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you want me.”

“I want you.”

“Again.”

“I want you.”

He crashed down harder this time. Hungry. Tongue sliding against yours as if he’s claiming every corner. You match him, hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

When he breaks away you’re both breathing heavily.

He rests his forehead against yours.

“Bed. Now.”

You don’t argue.

He follows, shedding his shirt as he goes, eyes never leaving you.

The mattress dips slightly under him.

He crawls over you, slow and predator like, and puns your wrist above your head with one hand.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You nod.

His free hand starts at your ankle. Sliding up torturously slow. He skips exactly where you want him to. Continues to your ribs. Your collarbone. Your jaw.

Everywhere except where you want it most.

“Maestro-”

“Patience,” he repeats, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I want to hear every sound you make before I give you what you're dying for.”

He drags his lips down your throat. Your chest. Pauses with his mouth hovering over one nipple.

“Beg.”

The word leaves you instantly. “Please!”

He rewards you, a hot, wet mouth sucking slow and deep.

Your back bows.

He switches sides. Same treatment. Same maddening pace.

He finally releases, leaving you trembling.

He kisses a line down your stomach. Lower. And lower.

Stopping right above your clit.

“Eyes on me, bela~”

You obey.

He holds your gaze, gives one long slow lick.

Your hips jerk. He pins them down with one forearm.

Then he settles in. 

Teasing licks. Gentle suction. Never enough pressure. Never enough rhythm. Just enough to keep you from falling off the edge.

Minutes pass like torture.

When you're shaking, thighs trembling, voice broken on his name. He finally gives you what you need.

Two thick fingers slide inside. Curl. Press.

His mouth seals over your clit at the same time.

You come hard, a whine muffled into your arm.

He doesn’t stop.

He works you through it. Then builds you towards the next one. Slow. Deliberate. Merciless.

When he finally crawls back up, shiny lips, feral eyes, he kisses you so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Still think you can handle all this?” he whispered against your mouth.

You reach between you, palm sliding over the hard length pitching his pants.

His breath stutters.

A small, wicked smile tugs at your mouth.

“Better question.. Can you handle me?”

His laugh is wrecked

“Let's find out.”

He kicks his pants off…

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Chapter 15 - Closed Doors pt3

… clothes hit the floor. Maestro’s eyes rake over your naked, trembling body, spread out on the bed like an offering. His cock stands hard and heavy, veins pulsing, tip glistening.

“Look at you~” he growls, kneeling between your legs. “So fucking eager. Spread wider.”

Yo do, thigh parting until they,” you whimper, hips lifting. “ ache. He smirks.

“Good girl, bella.” His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly, teasing both of you. “How bad do you want it? Beg. Show me how much of a desperate slut you are.”

“Please,” you whimper, hips lifting. “Fuck me. Ruin me.”

He chuckles, low and filthy. “You’re so fucking pathetic. I love it”

He positions himself, rubbing the head along your folds up and down, circling your clit until you’re whining, clit still swollen and oversensitive from earlier.

“Already soaked from my mouth,” he mutters. “Greedy cunt.”

One brutal thrust, no warning. He bottoms out, stretching you wide. Pain and pleasure spikes; you cry out, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Fuck… so tight” he grits, holding still for a second. “Made for my cock. Take every inch.”

He pulls back slowly, then slams in harder. Bed creaking. Skin sleeping. The rhythm builds relentless, and punishing.

“Choke me,” you gasp.

His hand finds your throat, giving it a firm squeeze.Your vision blurs on the edges as euphoria starts flooding. He leans down, mouth crashing to yours, teeth nipping lip, tongue invading.

“Such a good whore,” he praises against your mouth. “Squeezing me like you never want me to leave.”

You clench deliberately; he groans, his thrusts faltering.

“Brat.” He tightens his grip, hips snapping faster. “Come for me. Soak my dick.”

Overstimulation finally hits-your body becomes a live wire. Your orgasm crashes fast, you arch, soaking the sheets, your vision spotting.

He doesn’t stop. Pounding through it, hand still on your throat. “Again. You better not hold back.”

Tears prick; it’s too much, your clit raw and throbbing. But you still chase, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Can’t… fuck… Maestro-”

“You can. You will.” His free hand pinche your nipples and twists. “My perfect little fucktoy.”

A second wave starts building, coiling tight. He releases your throat; oxygen rushes in, heightening your senses. You scream his name as you break, convulsing and  shuddering around him.

He slows his pace, sliding out before flipping you onto your stomach.”Ass up.”

You obey, weak limb. He spreads your cheeks, admiring the mess he made. “Look at this. Leaking my pre-cum already.”

His tongue dives in with no mercy. Sucks your clit from behind. Three fingers join, curling deep, hitting your g-spot while his mouth works you over,

“Too sensitive… stop…”

“Shut up and take it.” A sharp slap to your ass, blooming heat. “You taste like sin. Come on my tongue again~”

You do, a third orgasm crashing, muffled into a pillow. Body shaking as your sobs escape.

He rises, wipes his mouth. “Now. Suck me clean, bella.”

You turn, knees on the mattress. Taking his length in hand, hot with slick. Your mouth envelopes him, tongue swirling, hollowing cheeks.

“Fuckk… yess,” he moans, fisting your hair. “Deepthroat it. Choke on it like the slut you are.”

You relax your throat as he pushes in, hitting the back. Your gag reflexes kick in; tears streaming down your face. He fucks your mouth slow and rough, balls slapping your chin.

“Good girl…” he chirped, “So messy. Drooling all over my cock.”

Pulling out abruptly. A string of saliva connecting. “On your back, legs over my shoulders.”

He folds you, slamming his cock into you at a deep angle, bullying your cervix. Thrust savage, making the bed frame bang against the wall.

“Choke yourself,” he orders. “Show me how much you need it.”

Your hand wraps your own throat, squeezing lightly, then harder. His eyes blaze.

“Filthy. All mine.” He rubs your clit, rolling it between his fingers. “One more. Give it to me, bella.”

Forming words was beyond your capabilities, your body protested as pleasure washes over. You tighten around him, he curses in Italian as his pace becomes erratic.

“come with me…,” you beg. “fill me… breed me…”

“Fuck… yes.” Deep final thrusts. He roars, he fills you up rope after rope.

Your fourth orgasm follows, violent, milking him dry.

He collapses beside you, sweaty, panting, both wrecked.

His arms pull you closer. Kissing your forehead. “My perfect little mess. All mine~”

You nuzzle his chest.

Sleep claims you both, still tangle together, breathing slow.

Requesting: Please put the genre (Misc, angst, fluff) as a letter (M,A,F) and the number. For headcannons, just tell me you want em! They can be a prompt list item. Special requests may have extra steps. Stay safe ya’ll, I love you guys!

Pairing: Tachanka (Alexsander Senaviev) x Reader

Warnings: Minor angst at the start (death mention), mentions of vomit, swearing, Tachanka is EXCITED

Genre/Word count: Fluff/2k

“They told me I’d died. They were wrong. I was reborn”

Your eyes instinctively rolled as he retold his famous line to the newly recruited rookies, who’s eyes widened in wonder and fascination.

 “How many times must you tell this story, Alexsandr?”

His booming laughter flooded the room as he draped his heavy arm around your shoulders. His helmet was tucked under his other arm, allowing him to place a small kiss against your cheek. He said his goodbyes to his new companions as he dragged you away with him.

“You love the story, you just won’t admit it!”

“Clinically dead! Two whole minutes!”

“REBORN!”

Genre/Word count: slow-burn/2.5k ╒════════════════════════════════╕

Chapter 1 - Unfortunate Pair

You should’ve known the day was going to be a mess the second you walked into the briefing room and heard Maestro laughing.

That laugh, loud, unbothered, and way too confident echoed off the walls like it owned the place. He was leaning against the table, gesturing dramatically at Vigil and Caveira, retelling some story you were pretty sure wasn't fully true.

You took your seat across the room, flipping through mission notes and trying to tune him out. You’ve worked alongside big egos before, but he was something else: all sunglasses and self-importance, with a grin that said he knew how to get under your skin and was about to prove it.

“Alright, people” the coordinator started, tapping a file against the table. “For Operation Null Path, we’re pairing specialists for recon coverage. We need both surveillance and on-ground adaptability.”

Maestro turned slightly, eyebrows raised like he already knew what was coming.

“Field specialist y/n, you’ll be partnered with Maestro.”

The room went quiet. A few operators exchanged glances, someone coughed to hide their laugh.

You froze mid page turn. “I’m sorry?” you said slowly. “Can you repeat that? I think my ears rejected it.” 

Maestro spread his arms out wide. “Ahhh, don’t be shy, bella. You get to work with the best. Today’s your lucky day.”

You didn’t even look up. “If this is luck, I’m buying sage.”

Doc snorted, Vigil muttered something in Korean that sounded like pity. Maestro of course seemed to thrive on it.

He strutted over to your side of the table, pulling out the chair beside you with an unnecessary amount of flair. “Soo y/n, tell me, you’re good with the field logistics, right? Because I wouldn’t want you slowing me down”

You looked up, meeting his grin with a deadpan stare. “I’m the one who fixes the messes you cause, remember?”

That actually made him pause. His grin faltered, just for a second before he laughed again, louder this time. “You’ve got a mouth on you. I like that.”

“Don’t” you warned, gather your folder. “ Don’t finish that sentence.”

The coordinator continued the briefing, outlined infiltration routes, signal interference, and surveillance handoffs. You tried to focus, but Maestro kept looking at you; like he was waiting for you to react, to play into his rhythm. You didn’t.

Not until the end, when he leaned closer and whispered,”You know, bella, teamwork is about trust. You can trust me.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes narrowing.”The day I trust you is the day you stop talking.”

He grinned wider.”Sooo never? Got it.”

As everyone filed out, you stayed behind to gather your notes. Maestro lingered too, pretending to double check his gear list. You could feel him smirking without looking.

“You know” he said, softening his voice,”I think we’re gonna surprise them.”

You slid the last paper into your folder and straightened. “Ohhh we will, just not in the way you’re hoping.”

You left before he could respond, boot clicking against the tile, and for once he didn’t call after you. He just stood there, smiling to himself like he’d just found his next favorite game.

You told yourself you hated that look.

But something about it made your pulse tick faster; a mix of irritation and curiosity.

And that was the problem.

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Chapter 2 - Drills an Disasters

The training yard baked under the afternoon sun, the air thick with gunpowder and concrete dust. You adjusted your gloves, already regretting agreeing to this joint drill.

Across the course, Maestro was waving like he was greeting paparazzi.

“Ah, bella! Finally decided to bless me with your presence!”

You stopped mid stride. “Don’t start Maestro. It’s too early for me to fake a laugh.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “Fake? You wound me. I was hoping for genuine admiration.”

“You’ll have to do something admirable first.”

That earned a whistle from someone nearby. Maestro grinned wider, walking closer, too close, until you could smell the faint mix of cologne and gun oil clinging to his gear.

“Careful, bella” he murmured. “Keep talking like that and people might think you’re flirting.”

You met his gaze, steady. “If that’s flirting, you’re doing it wrong.”

Before he could reply, the whistle blew. “Teams of two! Recon sweep and clear, GO ON MY MARK!”

You and Maestro moved like opposites forced into orbit; you precise and quiet, him loud and showy. Still, you couldn’t deny he had skill. His turret hummed beside you, locking targets with near perfect aim.

“Not bad” you said, sliding into cover.

He leaned beside you, breath warm against your ear. “Not bad? I’ll take that as a compliment. Even if you’re stingy with them.”

“Don’t push it.” you said.

“Ohhh, I plan to.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and popped up to shoot another target, just as a drone zipped out of nowhere and tagged your shoulder sensor. Maestro barked out a laugh so loud it echoed throughout the range.

“Was that the mighty field specialist getting clipped? Tragic.”

You fired back, nailing the drone in one clean shot. “Fixed it.”

“Good reaction time.” he said, eyes glinting. “Fast hands too, I like that”

“Keep talking and I’ll show you how fast they are at slapping.”

He laughed again, the sound too rich for the situation. “Promises, promises.”

By the last round, the teasing had turned rhythmic, a back and forth that made your pulse match the tempo of the gunfire. He covered your flank without being told, tossed a flashbang the moment you ducked, and even nudged you back from a corner before a target popped up.

“Look at us.” he said between breaths. “A perfect duet.”

“More like a noise complaint waiting to happen.”

He smirked, stepping closer as the scoreboard flashed First Place. “Then I guess we’re the loudest winners in the room.”

You tried not to smile, but he caught it anyway. “Ahh, there it is. That little grin, I knew you liked me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“And stop standing so close.” You added, but your voice came out softer than you expected.

He leaned in just enough to test the airway between you, not quite crossing the line, but knowing exactly where it was. “If I move bella, you might miss me too much.”

You scoffed, pushing past him, heat creeping up your neck. “Doubt it.”

He laughed as you walked away, the sound echoing through the yard.

And the worst part?

That laugh lingered, louder than the gunfire…

Even after you told yourself it shouldn’t.

╘═══════════════════════════╛

╒════════════════════════════════╕

Chapter 3 - First mission pt1

The briefing room buzzed with quiet chatter and the low hum of projectors, but all you could focus on was Maestro. Of course he had to appear right next to you, leaning casually against the wall with that infuriating grin.

“Ahhh, bella.” he said, voice smooth as velvet. “Finally ready to make me look good in front of the team?”

You shot him a flat look. “I’m only here to make sure you don’t get us all killed.”

He raised a brow, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “Protective instincts, how cute~ but trust me, you’ll need me alive. I am the charm of the operation.”

You rolled your eyes, already reaching for the projected map. Operation Null Path was a high risk recon sweep through a semi-urban complex. Automated defenses were likely, hostels probably armed with advanced tech, and everything depended on coordination.

“Here’s the layout.” the coordinator said. ‘We’ll split coverage. Field teams handle east and west wings; tech specialists support remotely.”

Maestro gestured toward the east wing. “I’ll take east; fast, efficient, with style. You take west. I suggest letting me breach first. It’s theatrical.”

You shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel. “Or you die first. Saves me time.”

“Bold~” he murmured, grinning. “I like it. You’ve got fire”

You ignored him, mentally plotting routes, clearing blind spots, running through contingencies. Meanwhile, Maestro circled the table, pointing at corridors, acting like he was starring in an action movie.

“You realize we both  need to survive, right?” you muttered.

“Exactly.” he said softly, leaning just close enough that the edge of his arm brushed yours. “Which meanss… teamwork.”

You tried not to notice your pulse quickening. “Teamwork doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Ahh, but you will, eventually.” he whispered, smirking.

The rest of the team filed out, leaving you two checking gear and final systems.

Maestro leaned over the drone feed, eyes gleaming.

“See? This is where our strengths combine.” he said. “You’re precise, calculated–I bring flair. Imagine the headlines if we fail.”

“Yeah, they’ll say ‘Operator and ego Fail Spectacularly.’”

He laughed a rich, teasing sound that made your shoulders tense. “Careful bella, that’s almost a smile I see. Admit it, you enjoyed training yesterday.”

You scowled, tugging your headset tighter. “I didn’t, I was just… calculating variables.”

“Sureee.” he said, voice dropping so only you could hear. “If you say so. Just remember; tomorrow, we can cover each other. Literally and figuratively~.”

You clenched your jaw, eyes scanning the map, but part of your mind had already wandered to him: that infuriating, impossible, charming Maestro, and somehow, you didn’t entirely hate the thought of working with him.

Which was very… troubling.

╘════════════════════╛

╒════════════════════════════════════════╕

Chapter 4 - Operation: Null Path pt2

The streets of the semi-urban complex were eerily quiet, the glow of street lamps reflecting off the cracked pavement. You crouched behind a barricade, scanning the windows for automated defenses, drones, or hostiles.

Maestro’s voice came softly through your comms.

“West wing clear. And… bella?”

“Yes?”

“Try not to make me look bad in front of the cameras.”

You snorted. “Already working on it.”

Moving in tandem, you and Maestro cleared the first few corridors with a rhythm that was both irritatingly precise and undeniably effective. You could practically feel him smirking whenever you took the lead, tossing a glance your way that said, see? I told you I’m charming.

A sensor beeped, a turret hidden behind crates. You decided and fired a clean shot. Maestro followed up immediately, disarming the system with a sweep of his evil eye and a dramatic flair that made you roll your eyes.

“Flair doesn’t count for skill.” you muttered, though your heart gave an unnecessary flutter at the quick efficiency of his move.

He leaned closer under the low cover of a wall, voice just above a whisper. “Skill and flair; the perfect combo. Admit it, bella.”

You groaned, brushing past him. “Stop trying to distract me.”

“Distract?” he said, perfectly innocent. “I’m keeping morale high. Very high~”

By the time you reached the central room, automated defenses had ramped up sensors blinking red, drones patrolling in patterns that changed every few seconds. You coordinated silently, nodding to each other as you swept the area. Maestro’s banter faded, replaced with focused determination that caught you off guard.

“Cover me.” he said, voice low. “I’ve got the breach.”

You nodded, moving to the opposite side. Seconds later, he detonated a flash and swept the room with his turret. You moved in sync, neutralizing the last few dornes and securing the objective.

Breathing hard, you looked at him; Maestro’s grin returning that same theatrical glint in his eye.

“We make a good team.” he said, softening his voice.

You lifted an eyebrow. “I carried you.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, just enough to brush his shoulder against yours. “Maybe… but I think we saved each other more than once.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t answer, because admitting anything now would be admitting too much.

Instead, you collected the date, patched the final systems, and glanced at him. 

Maestro winked.

“Next time, I’ll let you win.”

“Suree.” you muttered, walking past him.

A small, unintentional smile tugged at your lips.

You knew you were already looking forward to the next mission.

╘═══════════════════════════════════════════╛

╒═════════════════════════════╕

Chapter 5 - Post Mission

Two days after Null Path, the base still buzzed with the afterglow of a clean mission. Screens replayed highlights, radios chattered, and somewhere in the mess hall, Maestro was retelling the story, again, with his usual dramatic flair.

You passed by the doorway just in time to hear:

“...and then boom, bella drops in like lightning, right as I’m saving her life.

Perfect coordination, no?”

You leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “Saving my life? Pretty sure I was the one keeping you from getting fried by that turret.”

He turned, grinning like he’d been waiting for you “Ahh, the hero herself! Come, bella, tell them how magnificent we were.”

“We’ is generous.” you said, though the smirk threatening your face betrayed you.

Doc chuckled from the next table. “You two should get partnered permanently. It’s.. entertaining.”

Maestro raised his cup in a mock salute. “You hear that/ The people demand it!”

You rolled your eyes and walked off before he could say more, but you weren’t surprised when you heard his boots behind you a moment later.

He caught up halfway down the hall, steps easy and confident. “Soo.” he said, “when do we start the next mission? I’m feeling inspired.”

“You mean restless.” you replied. “Try paperwork for once.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “Paperwork? You hurt me.”

You kept walking, but he stayed close. Close enough that your arms brushed whenever you turned a corner. It should’ve been irksome. It wasn’t.

When you reached the armory to check your gear, he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you reshelved equipment. “You know.” he said quieter, “I never did thank you for the cover in the control room.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “You just did.”

He smiled faintly, the usual smugness tempered by something gentler. “That’s all I get? A one word reply?”

“You want a certificate?”

“I’d settle for a smile.”

You shook your head, hiding one anyway. “You’d frame it.”

“Of course,” he said. “”Proof that you secretly like me.”

You faced him fully this time, hand on your hip. “Secretly? There’s nothing secret about me tolerating you.”

He stepped forward, closing the gap by half. “Tolerating, eh? That’s progress~”

For a heartbeat, the air between you went still, quite enough to hear the hum of the overhead lights, the faint rustle of his glove as he adjusted his grip on the doorframe.

You looked away first. “You’re blocking the exit.”

He smiled, stepping aside with an exaggerated bow. “After you, bella.”

You walked past him, but his cologne lingered, mixing with gunpowder and adrenaline. You told yourself it didn’t make your pulse skip.

Later that night, when logging mission data, you found a note slipped under your tablet:

“For the record, I let you win today.

(mostly)

Don’t look so serious next time, bella.

It ruins your pretty face.

-M.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. It was so very Maestro: dramatic handwriting, cocky tone, and just enough charm to make it impossible to throw away.

You tucked the note between your reports and told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But the faint grin you wore said otherwise.

 (Hi! A little A/N before the story! I know the Rainbow fan population here is short, but I do take requests! I will post the prompt list I took for this one. I will write for any operator! I will do all and any request, for the prompt list, please put the genre (Misc, angst, fluff) as a letter (M,A,F) and the number, for example, this one would be F3.)

Pairing: Doc (Gustave Kateb x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, soft Doc, that’s it. I think...

Genre/Word Count: Fluff/606

So the Rainbow Six headquarters was currently under lockdown. You were peacefully enjoying a nice bubble bath, hours after finally coming back from a long and harsh mission. So who was it that had ruined your evening and left you blind in a slippery tub?

Thatcher had begun some testing on his EMP grenade. Long story short, the entire facility was fucked. The emergency system was activated, locking everyone inside until the team was able to get everything functioning properly.

Back to the tub.

For a highly trained and experienced operator, you had slipped on a towel you left on the ground. You cried out as you braced for impact. In a flash all you could feel was a horrible, painful, throbbing burn in your ankle.

You stared down at your ankle, which had already started swelling. Your lips pulled back, ‘All this goddamn hard work for a mission and a towel fucks me over?’, you tried your best to keep yourself standing straight. You wrapped your towel above your breasts tightly to keep from slipping off.

You stumbled out of your room. You passed Grace, who kept the flashlight on you as you dragged yourself passed her. You had no shame at all as you kept your steady pace, flashing a quick and pain-filled smile at her.

You reached the medical center of the building rather quickly, a couple of flashlights were scattered around the room, allowing you to find a bed to rest at. It also allowed you to see… No one. Doc wasn’t there yet.

With a sigh you looked around to keep you entertained. You leaned back, pressing your hand into a soft, warm material. You peeked down, squinting as you tried to distinguish the object.

Doc’s hoodie.It was still warm and had traces of his smell, so you knew he had barely stepped out. You took off the wet, cold towel and zipped up the hoodie. You sighed in satisfaction.

Nearly a whole 30 minutes had passed as you waited. “Such a great doctor.” You mumbled. You considered just slapping a couple of bandages around your ankle, not wanting to wait around any longer. You stubbled to the other side of the room, feeling around for anything that resembled the bandages. 

“Who’s there?”

You whipped around to see the door being open, and a dark, broad shouldered outline walked in. “FINALLY! What were you doing?” 

“I was helping Baker.” He paused, touching where you had previously been sitting, “Have you seen my hoodie?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“You’re wearing it aren’t you?”

“No..”

The bright fluorescent lights reactivated. You squinted, allowing your eyes to adjust slowly. Then found yourself face to face with Kateb. You backed up, stepping with your hurt ankle. You hissed and leaned up against a different bed. 

“Petit voleur.” He whispered before ordering you to sit on the bed you leaned on. He gathered a couple of supplies before placing your foot in his lap, “You did not break your ankle. But I do not recommend walking around much for the next few days.” 

You were in and out in less than an hour. You looked back at the damp towel across the room and then back down to the hoodie you currently adorned. You didn’t want to lose the warmth, but it was not your hoodie.

“Keep the hoodie, it suits you quite well,” Doctor Kateb said as he put up the left over bandages, as if reading your mind. He threw you a wink. “Though, I must admit, you’d look better without anything on.”

Your face exploded with red. “Um… I…” 

(Hi! A little A/N before the story! I will write for any operator! I will do all and any request, for the prompt list, please put the genre (Misc, angst, fluff) as a letter (M,A,F) and the number, for headcannons, just tell me you want em! Special requests may have extra steps.)

Pairing: Doc (Gustave Kateb) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, bondage, orgasm denial (M&F), Doc’s a rough boi, sort of humiliation kink?, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR TOOLS, FOOLS!!!)

Genre/Word Count: Smut/2.5k

Now, neither of you were getting bored. No, actually it was quite the opposite. You were both in a relationship long enough to trust each other and figure out what you could do next in bed. Both of you had offered suggestions as to what you two could compromise on.

So far, you both agreed on bondage. 

You had practically set a date on it. Tonight, you would be tied up and left to the will of the sweet French man. You were a little nervous, which was perfectly fine. Gustave had tried his best to comfort you throughout the day, promising he would stop the moment you wanted to back out.

How did you end up with such a sweet man? 

“Thank you Gustave. I trust you enough, don’t ever doubt that, my love.”

He pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles and pulled you into a hug. “And I wouldn’t ever risk losing that trust, ma chérie.”

-

Tonight was also Ryad’s birthday celebration, which definitely meant alcohol would be present during the event. You and Gustave had already drank about two beers each. You were both tipsy. When Gustave got tipsy, he was prone to laughter significantly. He had already giggled as he noticed that your eyeshadow had been smeared to the side.

“What?”

He laughed more as he licked his thumb, going in to clean off the tiny mistake. You slapped his hand away, “I’ll shove the neck of this bottle up your booty hole!” 

Your outburst caused the both of you to double over laughing for the next couple of minutes. Ryad and Elena had been watching and listening in the whole time, “Ni siquiera fue tan gracioso!” She said in confusion to the already heavily intoxicated man beside her, who just mumbled incoherent sentences. 

By the time the night reached its end, you and your partner were singing and dancing in the dimly lit and empty halls. The few that had gone to sleep earlier had already come out to hush you both several times. You had pouted at them, but complied nonetheless. 

Elena, who had managed to stay sober enough, had handed you both two glasses of water a while ago, in attempts to sober you both up so you could head to your rooms without somehow ending up with a broken wrist. But alas, the cups had been long forgotten on the hall floors.

Elena had stepped out, watching as you and Gustave were bumping into the walls, tossing soft hushes at the other before bursting into soft giggles. She rolled her eyes, grabbing onto the collars of your shirts, dragging you into the cafeteria. 

She sat you both down, slamming down the glasses that had previously been discarded. You both groaned, “But Elena, it’s too much!” 

“No, it is not. Now if I come back to two full cups, I’m waking the both of you up at 5 A.M to do chores. The sanitation staff would enjoy the two extra pairs of helping hands.” She strutted out, leaving you and Gustave to stare at the two big glasses of water

“Jokes on her. I already help the staff on Sundays!”

“You do?”

“We’ve been dating for two years and you’ve don’t paid attention to when I disappeared for like 3 hours???”

“I just thought you were doing something else!”

“Gustave, you’ve certainly have a Big Brain™.”

“Thank.”

You both giggled before putting your attention back onto the water placed before you. With a sigh, you picked up your glass and took a long sip. Your pouty lips returned as the water obviously held none of the fun drinks you previously drank. 

You closed your eyes, determined to drink the cold drink in just a couple of seconds. You leaned your head back, letting the cool water slip past your throat. You had finished about half of the contents before you paused to take a break. By the time you opened your eyes, you saw Gustave’s empty glass, and him on the floor, staring at the ceiling. 

“How did you finish before me? Why are you on the ground?”

“I dunno, I think some water is in my ear somehow though.”

You shook your head and downed the rest of the water, leaving the empty glass on the table for Elena to see. You rubbed your eyes and outstretched your hand for the operator resting on the floor. He reached up, grabbing your hand but making no effort to pick himself up. 

You had to practically drag your boyfriend back to his room, only when he got hit on the corner of the hallway had he decided to get up. He made his voice high pitched as he held on tightly to your arm, “Oh my god, babe! You're so strong!”

You slapped his hands away and put in the 4-number password to enter his room, “You’re lucky I love you, Kateb!”

He shut the door behind him, and without warning, dragged you back to the door, pinning you against it as he attacked your lips. You kissed back with the same intensity. His hand skillfully snuck under your shirt, prying at the only material between his hand and your breast. 

With a frustrated groan, he broke the kiss, pulling up your shirt and tossing it behind him. He went back to kissing you, trailing down your skin as his hand snuck behind your back, unlatching the hook. He kissed and bit at your neckline as he discarded the newly removed article of clothing. 

He kept his attention to your sounds as he continued to wrap his mouth around your left breast, keeping the other occupied with his hand. Your moans and other little sounds encouraged him to continue. ‘How did I get so lucky?’ He questioned himself as he tugged slightly at your skin with his teeth.

“N-Now, Gustave, I don’t t-think it’s fair you haven’t removed a-anything!”

“How right you are, my love.”

He backed away, taking in the sight of the blushing mess he made of you. With one swift movement, he grabbed the back collar of his shirt, easily pulling off the shirt over his head. He dropped it at his feet. 

“Is that better?” He teasingly asked, approaching you once again. You hid your face with your hands, covering your red face. He chuckled, “We’ve been together for two years, how does my sweetheart still get so embarrassed?”

You whined, burying your face deeper into your hands. He tsked, gripping your wrists and pinning them to the door. He lifted one hand, using his fingers to tilt your head to look up at him, a wave of arousal rushed through you as you were forced to stare at his dark eyes. 

“Don’t hide your face. You’re too adorable.”

He bit down harshly on your neck, surely leaving a hickey for you to see in the morning. He preoccupied his hands by unbuttoning your jeans, pulling them down, leaving you just in just your panties. He picked you up by your thighs, letting you wrap your legs around him for stability before he tossed you down on the bed. 

He kneeled down, opening up your legs. Your panties clung uncomfortably to you, due to how wet you had gotten. He chuckled at your eagerness. He slowly removed them, teasing you yet again. You groaned. 

“C’mon, please Gustave hurry up!”

“So needy.”

But regardless, he complied, running his tongue up against your wet slit. You shivered at the contact, lightly jerking up your hips. He laughed again and pressed his hand down on you, preventing you from moving like that again. He continued his slow and meticulous work, angering you even more.

Everytime you tried to move against his mouth, he would push down harder, to the point you couldn’t move your hips at all. You let out a desperate whine. He kept working his tongue on you, pushing in and out slowly, but never increasing his pace. 

Then, suddenly, he pulled away. He ran a hand through his graying hair, “Now, Y/N, I don’t think it’s fair that you haven’t done anything.”

What. The. Fuck. He had used your own line against him. A smirk painted his face as he stared at your stunned and angry expression. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, removing his last two pieces of clothing at the same time. He motioned you to get out of the bed. 

You huffed but did what you were told to do. Beads of precum had begun to roll down his lengthy cock. You dropped to your knees, lifting up your hand to begin. You stuck your tongue out, running across the underside of his shaft before nudging the tip into your mouth.

He let out a deep grunt, grabbing your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail in his fist. As you continued your work, you used your hand on what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His sounds of pleasure continued as he used your hair to pull your mouth further down.

Despite his tight grip you pulled away, regaining the breath you lost before continuing with your hand. He drank in your look. Your face had a dark blush, and you had begun to sweat, allowing your hair to stick to your face. A thin trail of saliva ran from your swollen lips to his tip. 

“You’re so beautiful…”

You shook your head, licking your lips and breaking the strand that connected you both. “You’re only saying that cause I’m the only one willing to suck your dick.”

“Such a dirty mouth. I love you.”

“Love you too!” You said cheerfully before opening your mouth and repeating your previous activities. You decided to get him back. The moment you knew he would cum, you wouldn’t allow it. Just as you planned your revenge, his cock had begun to twitch in your mouth. Your eyes held a dangerous glint. His breathing became heavier, he was close. 

You pulled away, pushing back on his thighs and landing on your butt. You leaned back on one hand and stared up at him. He held the same confused and aggravated face you previously held. You smirked as he did to you. Revenge was sweet. 

Your playful expression was not matched. He was nodding slightly, biting down harshly on his lip. 

“Is that how it’s gonna be? Get up.”

You tilted your head in confusion, you obeyed and picked yourself up, suddenly feeling intimidated by the older man. He pulled you close, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Do you remember our safeword?”

Your eyes widened, you had forgotten about your new experiment today. Gustave said he would find something small to start with. You nodded, remembering the safeword as ‘fishsticks’. A silly but meaningful word for the both of you.

He gently laid you on your back onto the bed. He told you not to move as he went over to the drawer that was next to his bed. You heard the sound of metal against metal. From his drawer he withdrew a pair of handcuffs.

You bit down nervously on your bottom lip. He moved on top of you, gently picking your wrists and placing them above your head. You shivered as the cold metal was clasped around each wrist.

He watched you with dark eyes as you tried to tug your hands apart, causing the short strand of chains to go taunt. At that moment, you knew Gustave had complete control over you.

Your breathing became labored, he scooped down for another kiss, forcing his tongue in your mouth. Your back arched significantly, pressing your breasts up against his chest, causing his hands to slip down and fondle you. 

He pulled his mouth away from you, causing a whimper to escape your mouth. He gave you a look, casually asking for permission without words. You gave him a short and eager nod, excited for him to start.

He positioned himself against you, pushing in rather quickly. Your urge to dig your nails into his back were resisted by the bindings on your wrists. You cried out softly as he quickly pulled out and thrusted in with a harsh pace.

You slowly lowered your hands from their place above your head, but Gustave was quick to place them above you again. “Not yet, my love, you’re still being punished for your little stunt!”

“Gustave-Fuck, I’m sorry!”

He chuckled at your desperate form but didn’t release your wrists. His thrusts increased significantly, obviously turned on from your frustration of not being able to grab on to him. 

He moved a free hand to caress your face, “You’re so cute, Y/N.”

Your lips parted slightly, wanting to retort with a witty response, but all that came out was a high-pitched moan. The slapping of sweaty skin and the pleasant noises coming from the both of you had flooded the room. 

He released your wrists, letting his fingers come in contact with your clit, rubbing slow and small circles. You shook your head, knowing you were close. You let out a lengthy string of curses, something you always did before you came.

Gustave knew this trait of yours, he loved how free you acted, breaking from your typical formal appearance you maintained in work and public. He loved that you were free around him. 

You could sense the familiar twitching of his cock inside you. Both of you were close. His thrusts were getting sloppier, but his work with his hand was still going steady. 

“Y/N-”

“Me too…”

Your release triggered his. He slowed down, but kept moving to milk out his orgasm as much as possible. He pulled out once he was finished.

With a happy sigh, he planted a kiss on your cheek and forehead. He laid back, resting one hand behind his head and closing his eyes

“Uhh… Gustave?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I think you forgot something,” He heard you tugging your hands apart, the clicking of the metal causing his eyes to shoot open. Quick apologies left his mouth as he stood and searched for the key kept in the drawer.

You laughed as he unclasped the cuffs. You rubbed lightly at the red marks the cuffs had left you. He lifted your arms, placing kisses on the red marks.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were too tight?” Worry laced his voice.

“Gustave, you worry too much.”

He gave you a nervous smile as you gestured for him to lay back down. You peppered his face in kisses as you both finally tired out. 

(Hi! A little A/N before the story! I know the Rainbow fan population here is short, but I do take requests! I will post the prompt list I took for this one. I will write for any operator! I will do all and any request, for the prompt list, please put the genre (Misc, angst, fluff) as a letter (M,A,F) and the number)

Doc and Maverick anons: I’ll have your requests posted within the next couple of days, sorry for the wait!

Pairing: Thermite x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, minor talk about death 

Genre/Word Count: Fluff (mild angst near the end)/1.3k

You had joined Team Rainbow about 3 years ago. You were a smart, and a natural born leader. You were also a practical joker, playing small, harmless pranks on each and every operator. Even the stern Taina had a laughing fit over your pranks. So you’d think the other childish person of Team Rainbow would get along with you right? Nope. WRONG. Jordan disliked you. But you never understood why. You thought you had started on good terms with the Texan.

Whenever he was assigned to the same practice groups, he would be the one to call you into the wrong hallway, leading to your early elimination and negative report. You were starting to get pissed off. Last week was the fourth time in a row he had done it, you were getting sick of his behavior. This week, you wouldn’t listen to him.

You chose to start off in a different segment of the training map. You stuck with Erik, the quieter one of the hard breachers. The two of you worked closely, eliminating the other practice team rather quickly. It had boiled down to a 2v1. Sadly, your companion had sprung a trap, forcing him to move to the spectators group. It was now down to you and Thermite. You groaned when he shot you a smug smile. 

“Looks like it’s just me and you, let’s hope I get the final kill.” 

“No. Also, I think in a second it’ll just be me left.”

He narrowed his eyes as you both kept moving, “What do you me-” His eyes widened as he spotted the trap he had triggered, signalling the last enemy of your positions. Without practically any effort, you aimed and perfectly shot the ball of paint at their head, ending your practice with a victory. Jordan looked up at you with angry eyes. You smirked and quickly bounded down the stairs to the open area. You ignored the angry call of your name as you regrouped with Maverick. You made small talk with him as you left the practice room.

At meal time, you sat next to Maverick. Surprisingly, you two got along very well, he had never laughed so hard with anyone else. And you had never had anyone stick around as long as he did while you endlessly told shitty puns and dad jokes. You ate while Erik told of a story from his childhood, but had paused to lean down to your ear, “I think someone’s a little jealous.”

He shifted his eyes toward Jordan's direction. Jordan was seated with Emmanuelle and Yumiko. He was glaring at the two of you, but mostly at the taller man seated to your left. “Him? No, he hates me. Hated me since day 1.” “What about you then, I swear sometimes I see you staring at him in wonder.”

Blood rushed to your face as you stuttered to defend yourself, “Yeah, wondering how he’s such a dumbass!” In all honesty, you did have a small crush on Jordan. He was very cute, and the rivalry had caused intrigue. But you didn’t think anything could happen between the both of you.

 At the other table, Jordan watched as Erik had leaned down, brushing his hand to move your hair back so you could hear him better. Yumiko watched as his hands tightened significantly around his fork, “Jordan, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Oh no it’s just… those two have been getting awfully close lately.”

“Does our little Jordan have a crush?” 

Emmanuelle chuckled at the thought, teasingly pinching the grown man’s cheek. He slapped her hand away, “I do NOT have a crush on that gremlin!” 

“Oh yeah, sure, yeah no, of course not.” She winked at Yumiko, which fueled Jordan’s statement of denial. For a while he was distracted, until he heard a loud laughter protruding from your table. Erik had caused you to laugh, making water come out from your nose, causing Erik to snort, which made you laugh even harder. 

Without another word, he slammed his fist onto the table and got up, chucking the uneaten food in the garbage before leaving. He let the heavy door hit the wall. The laughter from you and Erik ceased, “See? He’s jealous.” 

You shook your head and finished your meal. As you walked back to your room, the thought lingered on your mind, ‘Does Jordan like me too?’ You sat in bed, thinking over things

 “Why do I like him if he hates me?” 

For the rest of the day, you just slept. By the time you opened your eyes it was pitch black outside, and the clock next to you read 11:43 PM. You certainly weren’t going to sleep for the rest of the night.  

You changed into more comfortable clothes and headed out, spotting the room you searched for. You questioned your own thought process, but at the same time, it seemed perfect. Prank Jordan so he hates you even more so in turn you learn to dislike him too. But as you stood outside his room, you were hesitant. 

You took a deep breath and stepped in. His light snores let you know he was sleeping soundly. You tiptoed around, holding your breath as you grabbed the slim object. A practically fatal mistake. A beefy, bandaged hand held on tightly to your wrist. With a sheepish smile, you tilted your head to the right, “Oh hey buddy… I was just… making sure your alarm works!”

You tugged your arm back, but Jordan seemed to panic as the screen turned on, faced away from you. He sat up, yanking your wrist with one hand as he grabbed his phone with the other, “What the hell were you trying to do?”

“Uhh… find and send an embarrassing picture or screenshot on your phone to the group chat.”

“Fuck off.”

You huffed and stuck out your hand, “You’re right Jordan, I am very irresponsible and my pranks are childish. I swear I won’t try this stuff on you again. I know I should’ve respected your privacy, and shouldn’t have woken you up, because sleep is very important.”

He looked at you in disbelief, but too tired to care, he shook your hand. “I’m glad we have an understan-”

You moved down, gripping on his forearm and yanked him down as you threw your legs over and around his neck, making him fall forward. You snatched the phone back as you sat comfortably on his bed, while he desperately tried to pull your legs away from his throat.

“Like that move? Taina showed me how to do it!” You said cheerfully, looking down as you turned on the phone. What you saw made you pause, and release your tight grip on the poor hard-breacher. 

“Am… Am I your lockscreen?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He rubbed at his throat while you examined the picture. It was you. It was the end of your first mission 3 years ago. After a victory, you had all gone out to eat. In the photo, you had several sauces covering your chin and lips, a sneaky picture. You looked like a 4 year old as you looked around the table in shock, being around so many people you looked up too. Including him. 

“Jordan… why do you hate me?” 

“I don’t. I just didn’t want to get close.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to risk losing you. You know what happens to people like us in these fields. Every mission is a 50/50 chance of living to see the next day.”

You helped Jordan up from the floor, “I like you too Jordan. And maybe if we went on more missions together, we could protect one another…”

He smiled down at you. “Yeah, I think that’ll work.”