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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months

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Meet Me In the Afterglow

Pairing: Peeta Mellark X Reader

Synopsis: you’re the one who gets taken by the Capital and Peeta isn’t used to who you are when you return

Masterlist

The day finally came when you and the others taken by the Capital were brought to District 13. Peeta raced down to the infirmary as soon as he heard you were back and bumped into Haymitch.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you. Are they back?” Peeta asked.

“They’re back. But before you go in there-“

“Where is she?” Peeta cut him off and jumped in excitement. Haymitch did not share in his excitement and kept a stone cold face as he stared at Peeta.

“Kid, there’s something you should know.” Haymitch said. Peeta’s smile dropped and he felt himself get sick to his stomach.

“No.” He croaked out. “They said they found her alive.”

“No, not that. She’s not dead.” Haymitch said with a frustrated sigh.

“Well then is she hurt?”

“She’s not hurt. She’s just…she’s not doing well, okay? We’re not exactly sure what the Capital did to her but she’s not herself. I think you should give her a few days before you see her. Just until we figure out what’s going on and if it’s permanent.”

“Permanent?” Peeta repeated. “What happened to her? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Why don’t you go get something to eat and we can discuss it later?” Haymitch said and patted Peeta’s shoulder.

“No. I’m not waiting a few days to see her. I’ve waited 8 weeks. I need to see her now.” Peeta stated and pushed past Haymitch.

“Peeta.” Haymitch said warningly. Peeta ran through the infirmity and looked around for you. He made eye contact with Finnick, who solumly pointed to a room with the curtains drawn. Peeta nodded and swiftly made his way to the room. He burst inside with a huge smile and sighed in relief when he saw you sitting on a medical table with your back to him.

“You’re here.” He said breathlessly. You tensed when you heard his voice and slowly turned to face Peeta. Under the harsh florescent lighting, Peeta could see the extent of your physical injuries.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He said softly as he slowly circled around you. Your emaciated face was covered in bruises in every stage of healing. Your bloodshot eyes stared into his with an ice cold store. Peeta covered his mouth with one hand and reached for you with the other.

“What did they do to my girl?” He whispered and tried to touch your face. You smacked his hand away and as he reacted, you lunged for his neck. You slammed Peeta into a glass cabinet before throwing him onto the floor.

“What are you doing? It’s me!” He protested when you climbed on top of him.

“I know.” You said through gritted teeth and tried to strangle him again. You were quickly sedated and pulled off of him, but not before Peeta caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes. Even though he had known you for years, he didn’t recognize who he saw now. One of the attendants picked Peeta off the ground and quickly ushered him out of the room. He turned his head to look at you before the attendant pushed him out and saw you being strapped to a table. He tried to fight the people pulling him to go help you but they overpowered him. Peeta was quickly taken out of the infirmary and brought back to where Haymitch was.

“What was that? What’s wrong with her?” Peeta asked desperately. Haymitch rubbed his eyes and let out a loud sigh.

“We’re not entirely sure. The doctor said it’s called hijacking. The Capital showed her real memories and altered memories to confuse her. And they somehow made her believe that you are trying to kill her. She doesn’t know what’s real right now. Thats why I wanted you to wait.”

“Kill her? I love her. She knows that. I told her.” Peeta said through a shaky voice.

“She doesn’t know anything anymore. They completely rewired her mind. For all we know, she fully believes we’re all out to get her and the Capital is the only people she can trust.” Haymitch told him.

“What? She would never think that. How could they possibly get her to believe that?”

“They tortured her. Everyday. For 8 weeks. That’s how.”

“I told you to get her out. I told you to save her over me. You promised.” Peeta shouted at him as his sadness melted into rage.

“Getting angry at me isn’t going to fix this.” Haymitch warned. “If we want her back, we need to work with her. That means going in there and trying to remind her what’s real and what’s not.”

Peeta calmed and nodded his head. He didn’t understand what was happening so he put his trust in what Haymitch said would bring you back. The medical attendants induced you in a coma for a few days while your injuries healed and Peeta stayed with you the whole time. Even though you were unconscious and didn’t know he was there, he stayed and held your hand all day. He felt tremendous guilt for leaving you behind the first time so he wasn’t gonna leave you again. When you finally woke after a couple days, they brought Peeta to your room.

“Is this a good idea? She tried to kill me last time.” Peeta asked Haymitch.

“She’s strapped to the bed. And there will be a guard in there with you. She can’t hurt you.” Haynitch assured him.

“Okay.” Peeta nodded. The attendant opened your door for him and Peeta walked inside. When you made eye contact, you tugged on your worst restraints in an attempt to get away from Peeta. Peeta noticed this and as much as it hurt him, he didn’t mention it.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He said kindly but kept his distance.

“Why do you think you get to call me that?” You replied coldly.

“I don’t really know. I guess I’m just trying to get back to something familiar. I used to call you that in the arena sometimes. You didn’t really like it then either.” He said with a half hearted laugh. You didn’t return the laugh and instead turned your attention back to your TV. Peeta followed your gaze and realize you were watching his first interview with Cesar Flickerman.

“My interview?” He asked in surprised. You were surprised as well and looked at him skeptically.

“You remember this?”

“Yeah. That was the first time I told you I liked you. I just wish I didn’t make it so public. I should’ve told you how I felt way before the reaping. You didn’t deserve to find out that way.” Peeta said with regret as he stared at himself from a year ago on the screen. You’d been struggling to pinpoint which memories were real so to have him confirm that what he said in his interview was real made you feel slightly better.

“I wish you had told me privately too.” You said quietly.

“You do?” Peeta smiled with just an ounce of hope as he looked at you.

“Yeah. Because then Snow wouldn’t have tortured me just to hurt you.” You snapped. Peeta’s hope disappeared and he nodded in understanding.

“He tortured you because he knows I love you. Everyone knows. I was never shy about it.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“You’re just a mutt.” You sneered. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone.”

“That’s not true. I do love you. I always have.” Peeta said calmly. When you didn’t get the reaction you wanted from him, you disengaged.

“I watched the other interview too. From before the second games.” You said instead.

“What did you think?”

“I don’t know. Are we really married?”

“No.” Peeta shook his head. You looked confused and a little panicked to hear his answer.

“But I remember you proposing. That memory was fake?” You asked, sounding vulnerable now instead of cold. Peeta realized you were just desperate to find a few real memories to hold on to for your sanity.

“The memory was real because we staged a fake proposal for the cameras. We were never actually engaged. Or, I guess we were. But not because we wanted to be. It was a fake engagement for Snow.” He said with a tight smile.

“So there’s no baby either?”

“No. No baby. We never…” He trailed off and blushed all the way to his ears. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and then laughed meanly.

“Really? Never?”

“No.” Peeta said quietly and felt his whole face go red now.

“Wow. Whats the matter? Lover boy was too shy to get it up? Or were you just too busy making it known to everyone about how much you love me to actually take me like a man?” You asked with a condescending pout. Peeta blinked in surprise at how mean you were being and tried to remember that it wasn’t really you. It was whatever the Capital had done to you.

“That’s not nice.” He said quietly.

“Nice? I’ve been tortured everyday for the last 8 weeks because of you. So I’m sorry if I’m not nice anymore.” Your voice gradually got louder and by the end of your sentence, you tried to lunge for his neck again. Yoru restraints held you back but Peeta never flinched.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” You genuinely wondered as you sank back into your bed.

“Because I know you won’t hurt me.”

“Yes I would.” You scoffed.

“Okay.” Peeta shrugged and walked over to your bed. You watched him closely as he undid the restraints on both your arms.

“Hurt me, then.” He said simply. Your eyes darkened and you raised your fist to swing at him, then lowered it.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” You asked quietly.

“You didn’t swing.”

“Not now. Yesterday. When I attacked you. You’re twice my size. I’ve seen you throw bags of flour one your head. I know you’re strong. You could’ve easily overpowered me. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’d never hurt you.” Peeta stated. “Ever. I couldn’t.”

“Snow said you would. He said you’d sell me out in a second to save your own life.”

“Well that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d do anything to keep you safe. Ask Haymitch. I nearly killed him when he first told me he didn’t get you out of the arena. We had a deal that he’d save you before me.”

“Why would you make that deal?” You asked skeptically.

“Because I’d rather die than lose you.” Peeta said simply.

“Why?”

“I have nothing if I don’t have you. No one else I care about.”

“But I thought we weren’t actually together? You said it was just for the cameras.”

“We weren’t together. But I’ve loved you since I was a kid.”

“That’s just puppy love. A childhood crush doesn’t equate to love.” You pointed out.

“It was a crush at first.” He agreed. “But then I got to really know you. We became really close during training for the first games. You probably don’t remember that.”

“I do.” You admitted.

“You do?”

“On the train. We used to talk on the rooftop.” You recalled and Peeta could see the faintest trace of a smile.

“Yeah. We did.” He smiled too.

“That was before you became a soulless mutt who’s trying to get everyone in the districts killed in this rebellion.” You switched up on him and returned to your vengeful state.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. All I care about is getting you back to normal.” Peeta told you. Something in your eyes changed and for a second, Peeta could see the real you. You looked scared and confused and most of all, trapped. Your eyes went back to your cold stare and you leaned towards him.

“Get out. Get out before I hurt you.”

“I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not gonna do that.” Peeta insisted.

“I don’t want you here. GET OUT.” You screamed at him and threw a pillow. The attendant burst in and ushered Peeta out of the room before he had a chance to react. He watched you thrashing in your bed through the window and wondered why you chose to throw a pillow and not your fists.

After another week in extensive therapy, your doctor deemed you fit to interact with the rest of the district in short increments. You were allowed into the food hall and stuck close by Johanna for a sense of familiarity. She helped you get some food and then brought you over to the table were Gale, Finnick, Annie, and Peeta were sitting. Peeta smiled in surprise when he saw you sit down but you didn’t smile back. You didn’t say anything the whole time you were sitting until Finnick and Annie got up to leave.

“Careful, Annie. If you don’t treat him right, I might try to steal him from you.” You said jokingly. No one took it as a joke because no one knew that it was one. You’d been quiet ever since being brought home minus the spiteful remark every now and then. So your joke fell flat but you weren’t looking for laughs anyway. You said it to get a rise out of Peeta and it worked because his face burned red with jealousy.

“Why would you say that?” He asked you.

“Why do you care?” You shrugged. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

“She’s right. You’re not.” Gale added. You narrowed your eyes at him when you heard this and then checked on Peeta. You could be mean to Peeta but you didn’t want anyone else to be.

“You should watch what you say to me right now.” Peeta said lowly as he glared at Gale. You smiled in delight over the drama you caused.

“Why? Give it up already. She didn’t want you before all this shit went down. Do you honestly think there’s any chance she’ll want you now? Her brain is fried. She punched a mirror this morning because she didn’t recognize her reflection. She’s just a vegetable. Let her go.” Gale said, making your smile drop. You had been told Gale was a close friend of yours so to hear him talk about you with zero regard for your feelings made you sad.

“Maybe that’s how you feel but it’s not how I feel. I know she’s in there. And I’ve loved her for years so no, I’m not just going to let her go.“ Peeta snapped and got up from the table. He was about to walk away when he turned to Gale one last time.

“She would’ve never given up on you if you were the one the Capital took.” He reminded Gale.

“I know that.” Gale said quietly with guilt in his eyes. With that, Peeta left the food hall and went to his room. He laid on his bed for a few hours and got deep into his thoughts. He went down for dinner that night and was actually relieved that he didn’t see you anywhere. When he returned to his room, you were sitting on his bed.

“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.” He said awkwardly and stayed by the door. You had Peeta’s sketchbook open on your lap and tears in your eyes. Every page was filled with drawing after drawing of you that Peeta had made. Peeta blushed in embarrassment when he realized what you were looking at. He was even more embarrassed when you found the one he had drawn of you that morning.

“Did I love you?” You asked as you looked up at him.

“What?”

“I know you loved me, but did I love you?” You repeated. Your tone was gentle this time so he didn’t correct you for using love in the past tense.

“Honestly, I was really sure.” He admitted. “I don’t think you knew either.”

“But did it seem like I was?”

“When cameras were on us, yes. And sometimes when it was just you and me. Those were my favorite moments, actually. The ones that were just between us. I felt more love in our private conversations than in our public confessions.” He told you. You nodded as if that’s exactly what you thought he would say. You flipped through a few more drawings and touched one that was of the two of you.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you.” You said quietly. Peeta couldn’t help but laugh at that and felt himself relax.

“What?” You wondered.

“Sorry. It’s just so you to call throwing me into a glass cabinet “mean”.”

“That’s something I would say?” You smiled slightly and allowed yourself some hope.

“Absolutely.” He nodded. “You’re very smart but you have a way of getting that across in as few words as possible.”

“That’s good I guess. That I sound like me.”

“It is good. I means you’re still in there somewhere.” He smiled softly. You stared at him for a moment and then patted the space next to you. Peeta practically ran to sit next to you on the bed and gave you his full attention.

“I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake. But I’m realizing that the altered memories have this shiny film over them. My real ones don’t.”

“What’s in the shiny memories?” He asked you.

“You hurting me. Leading the careers to me in the first games. Abandoning me in the area as it burnt down. Throwing bread at me.”

“That last one’s real. That was to feed you.”

“Oh. Thank you, then. For that.” You said stiffly.

“You’re very welcome. So how many real memories have you figured out?”

“I remember making a book with you.”

“Yes.” He smiled in surprise. “We made a book about all the plants in district 12. That was when you hurt your ankle.”

“Because I always hopped over the fence instead of crawling under.” You recalled, making Peeta’s smile grow.

“That’s right! You did. I never understood why.”

“It was a few seconds faster and I got less dirt on my pants. My mom wouldn’t have to wash them as much so I told myself I was less of a burden if I jumped over instead of go under.” You said without even thinking about it. You didn’t realized you had that memory in you and smiled when you heard it come out of your mouth.

“That’s good. Thats a solid memory.”Peeta encouraged you.

“I remember you taking care of me when I had to stay off my foot. And feeing me that weird soup.”

“The hazelnut soup.” He chuckled. “I never liked it either. I’m pretty sure I was feeding you that because my mother made it and I didn’t want it.”

You cracked up laughing at how honest he was. Peeta laughed as well, then felt himself tear up.

“I haven’t heard your laugh in over a month.” He said in a wavering voice.

“Me either.” You realized. You were both quiet for a moment and avoided making eye contact as you stared down at his sketchbook.

“I’m scared I’m never gonna get back to who I was.” You said quietly.

“I’m honestly scared of that too.” Peeta admitted. To his surprise, you smiled a little at his answer. You expected him to lie to you and give you the same sugar coated answers the medical attendants had been giving you about what your future held, but Peeta didn’t do that.

“You know what’s been making it hard to decipher what’s real?” You asked him.

“What?”

“If these memories of you and me are real, I don’t understand why I wasn’t in love with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean half my memories of you, the ones they didn’t alter, are just you existing. I have memories of you sitting. Or looking out a window. Or focused on your eyelashes or hands or crooked smile. We’re not even interacting in some of them. I guess I was just always looking at you. Always memorizing you. And they couldn’t touch those memories. They didn’t know they were in there.”

“Neither did it.” Peeta said in a soft voice. You looked into his eyes and this time, he saw someone he recognized.

And you did too.

Peeta taglist 🥖

@ilovetoomanymen

#peeta mellark whump #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark angst #peeta x reader #peeta mellark fanfiction

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miupow · 3 months

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── ★ ˙🍓 ̟ tubatu as fanfic tropes !!

TXT x GN!READER ★ sfw, fluff, lowercase intended, alcohol mention, drunk!yeonjun, talk of marriage, jacket sharing, shy!soobin, kissing in the rain, best friend!taehyun, mentions of fighting (not w txt), meet cute this is a repost from my old blog! reblogs and comments are appreciated ^^

yeonjun -> drunken confessions

"i like you.." yeonjun slurs as you deposit him on the couch, cat eyes half-lidded and unfocused, limbs sprawled out everywhere-- you giggle, push his hair back, pretend he doesn't give you butterflies when his head lolls back and he gives you a lazy grin. "you're drunk." you shake your head, turn to the kitchen to get yeonjun some water, but the boy stops you with a drawn-out whine; "nooo, don't go, i mean it! i like you so much, you're so pretty, we should get married,," "i'm sorry?" you turn back to face him and laugh, cheeks heating up against your will-- you couldn't take a word yeonjun said right then seriously-- "we should get married," yeonjun repeated happily, already half-asleep just sitting on the sofa. "i'll be a good husband, just for you... i'll tell you i love you every day..."

soobin -> take my jacket

"are you cold?" soobin asks gently, frowning as he took in the way you were shaking like a leaf-- you hadn't bothered to grab a coat before agreeing to walk to the convenience store with him, not expecting the dark seoul streets to be this chilly... "i'm okay," you insist, wrapping your arms tight around your middle. "no you're not-- here," soobin scoffs, quick to shrug off his puffy jacket and drape it over your shoulders, "you can wear my jacket as long as you promise to give it back." you opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat-- soobin's coat was warm, engulfed you completely, and smelled just like him. you felt so cozy and small, wrapped up and surrounded by soobin... "thank you," you mumble into the coat instead, blushing furiously. "you're welcome-- you could catch a cold, you know. you need to be more careful." soobin was quick to hide his face, turning away to look out at the street, but you could see his red ears from a mile away.

beomgyu -> kissing in the rain

"beomgyu, i--" "shut up," he cuts off, diving in to capture your lips with his-- the height difference made you dizzy, beomgyu's deft fingers tilting your head up to face the pouring sky, protected from the rain only by his body melding against your own... it was raining so hard it was difficult to see, your clothes soaked through completely, your body chilled to the bone; you were freezing, shaking violently, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you dug your fingers into beomgyu's wet hair, deepened your kiss with a lofty sigh he tasted like fireworks. countless tiny explosions overwhelming your senses and like something sweet you couldn't name. "don't tell me to shut up," you retorted when you parted, breathing heavy, fingers still tangled in beomgyu's hair; "you shut up." "okay." beomgyu giggled, leaning in for another kiss.

taehyun -> friends to lovers

“you’re okay, i’ve got you,” taehyun murmured into your hair, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder— this was the third time he’s been the one to console you after a fight with your boyfriend, and at this point taehyun was really starting to get tired of the guy. “you’re gonna be okay,” taehyun wished you could see how perfect of a boyfriend he could be for you, how much better he would treat you than that jerk… he rubbed your back as you sobbed into his shirt, trying his hardest not to show how irritated he was— how could anyone treat a person this perfect like this? you didn't deserve this, you deserved so much better! he would treat you like royalty, spoil you rotten... if you would let him. but he was terrified that he was one confession away from ruining your friendship. so he'd never say a word. at least, not until the timing was right. he was willing to wait.

hueningkai -> meet cute

"oh, i'm so sorry!" you squeak, disoriented and mortified beyond belief. "i wasn't paying attention--" you weren't even sure where to start, knocked clean on the pavement, contents of your purse scattered everywhere-- and worst of all, your iced coffee spilled all over a complete stranger. And he was so handsome, too!! "no, no, I'M sorry!" he replied, sounding just as flustered as you were. he helped you gather your things, looking so apologetic despite you being the one to bump into him. "i should have looked where i was going!" you couldn't fathom why he felt the need to apologize when he was the one who now had a giant stain on his light colored sweater. "i'm so sorry about your sweater--" you repeated, rummaging around in your bag. "i might have some napkins in here--" "don't worry about it, it's fine!" the stranger giggled, offering you a hand-- you took it hesitantly but gratefully, face heating up at his pretty smile and strong grip. "i'm hueningkai by the way, what's your name?"

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pandorxxx · 11 months

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Treat me (decision based fic)

Lo’ak x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: heavy smut, fingering, choking, slapping, hair pulling, p in v, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft-dom to DOM lo’ak.

🔞mdni🔞

Synopsis: when your friend group becomes alittle more advanced with age, you find it hard to relate to them, seeing as you were a late bloomer in the sex department. You turn to lo’ak for help but you end up quite…helpless.

You and your friends would always meet up and talk to each other about any and everything. Wether it be about hunting, partying, or just joking around, there was always a topic of conversation. As you all got older, that topic switched to something a little more advanced….sex.

It seemed to be the only thing your friends were interested in. And you being the late bloomer in all of this made the topic irrelevant to you. Made it seem like you had nothing in common with your friends anymore. They were growing up, and you felt as if you were staying still in the sex department.

As time progressed, your friends would ask you about your sex life, and to save yourself the embarrassment, you would lie.

“Oh, yeah! He told me I gave the best head in this clan.” You would say, chest poked out in confidence. And a flow of questions would follow after:

“Stop! Was he hot?”

“Did you swallow?”

“Omg girl, tell me your tricks.”

You finally felt like you belonged in your friend group again. Even if that meant lying to fit in. One day, the lying went alittle too far. And there was no turning back without giving your entire operation up.

“You keep saying “he”. Who is this mystery boy who’s getting all of your love, girl?”. Your heart stopped, realizing that you could either come clean, or continue this drawn out lie. Even though you wanted to do the right thing, the name you thought about was coming up like word vomit, there was nothing you could do.

“Oh, no one special. Justttt….lo’ak sully.” You sung. Your friends jaws dropping in shock and excitement for you. But regret burned deep in your heart, because you knew this would end badly. Lo’ak was like an older brother to you, and it seemed to be reciprocated on his end. He never really tried anything with you, which was new.

He was a very sexual being, and this was known throughout the clan. He was popular, strong, son of a great warrior, and he was hot. So this little lie was for sure to come out soon.

Again, you contemplated with yourself:

Should I just come clean? Or should I get lo’ak to go along with it just until it all faded out?

“Bro, you told them WHAT?” Lo’ak laughed, throwing his hair into a ponytail infront of his mirror.

“Listen, I know it sounds crazy. But I need you to do this for me, please!” You pleaded urgently, pacing back and forth nervously in his hut.

“Y/n…no.” He chuckled, turning to face you with his arms across his chest. You huffed, stomping to his cot until you plopped down on it in frustration.

“And I mean, you really went all out, too. Best head? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve never seen dick in your life.” He lectured, walking over to your sprawled out body.

“You should HEAR the shit they talk about. I’ve never even heard of some of that stuff. Didn’t even know some of it was possible.” You sat up, looking up to him. He laughed out loud.

“Yeah, because your friends are a bunch of sluts. And you shouldn’t even be hanging out with them. You don’t need to impress those girls, y/n. Just stay innocent a little while longer, shit.” He leaned down, planting a kiss on your forehead, caressing the side of your head before walking back over to the mirror.

“Don’t “little girl” me. I hate when you do that.” You pouted, shooting him a stone cold glare. He smirked at you through the mirror, playing with his loincloth to make sure it was secured around his hips.

….

“you ARE a little girl.” He laughed, shaking his head before checking himself out in the mirror, vainly.

You rolled your eyes with a loud huff. “No I’m not! Skxawng.” You crossed your arms. Shooting him a deadly glare. He tilted his head, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He shrugged, eyeing you up and down through the mirror.

Your body began to get hot, shifting on his cot nervously. “Lo’ak…please. Just help me.” You sighed, hands together as you begged him to save you from the mess you dug yourself into.

He face turned serious, eyes rolling in frustration before shifting his body weight to one side.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend untilllll?”

“Until I tell everyone we broke up. I just need a couple of months, lo’ak.” You reassured him, hoping that he would finally give in for you.

“A couple of months?! No fucking way.” He shook his head. “Why not?!” You whined.

“Because im just going to assume we’re not going to be having sex. And I don’t know if you noticed but….I like having sex.” He smirked at you through the mirror.

…

“Lo’ak, i-ive never done that before.” You reminded him. Crossing your legs nervously. He scoffed, watching you squeeze your legs together.

“Yeah, I know. Which is why this is a terrible fucking idea!” He chuckled. You began to grow more frustrated, finally blurting out what you truly wanted to say.

“Lo’ak! I don’t know why you’re acting so untouchable. Every girl In this clan has had you for gods sake! Just break me in already, what’s the big deal?” You rambled, glaring at him with a confused look, waiting for him to answer your question.

“Do you hear yourself? Like…seriously.” He spoke lowly , turning around to lean against the mirror, staring at you. Your ears shot up, shooting your head to him confusingly.

“I mean…you talk about yourself like you’re an object. Break you in? Like a fucking car? You’re so much more than that. Why do you wanna be treated like a slut? Please explain.” His eyebrows ruffled in confusion as he awaited an answer.

“I just- my friend’s talk about it like it’s the best thing in the world. All I wanna do is see what that feels like. To be used and dominated. To be fucked until I can’t take it anymore, and even then he doesn’t stop. Showing me no fucking mercy no matter how much I scream for him to slow down. I want someone to make me cum…over and over again until I have nothing left to give. I wanna be slapped, choked….treated like an absolute slut.” You explained, not even knowing the tone in which you spoke. You were so in your head that your tone was borderline seductive, making lo’ak forget everything he said to you before.

“I just need the right person to show me.” You smiled sarcastically, realizing that this conversation was probably going nowhere. You stood up, walking towards the door. You only opened it inches before it slammed back shut in your embrace. You could feel his body heat radiating on your backside as his hand laid on the shut door.

…

“And after all that…you think you’re just gonna walk out? I’ll have your little ass crawling out of here when I’m done.” He growled in your ear. You let a small whimper leave your throat, completely submitting to him. He spun you around to face him, pinning you to the door by your neck with great force.

“I’ve thought about it. Who am I to deny you of what you truly want, huh? What kind of… boyfriend would I be if I didn’t treat you how you’re begging me to?” He chuckled, titling his head at you. He scanned your trembling body for a moment before meeting your face again.

“Tell me you want it.” He whispered, bringing you closer to him by your neck. His hand slid down to your waist, drawing circles into the sides. You looked up at him with nothing but lust, so hungry for him. “I want it.” You moaned, nodding in his embrace.

“Talk to me, tell me how you want it.” He nodded with you before tucking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Take me right here. Use me, please.” You strained as his grip on your neck became slightly tighter. He nodded for confirmation before ripping your loincloth off, deeming it un-wearable. He immediately slid two fingers in between your soaked folds, making you throw your head back in his embrace.

He brought his fingers up to your face, your juices dripping down his knuckles. You looked at him with hooded eyes. You stuck your tongue all the way out, using the flattest part to lick his fingers clean. He watched you intently before pulling his fingers away, bringing you in for a fiery kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance, but his won. The kiss was slow and sloppy, just how you liked it.

He let your neck go, picking you up by your thighs harshly, lips still stuck to yours. He walked you over to the table, swiping everything away with one hand before plopping you down.

He trailed his hand down to your cunt, massaging your clit gently with his thumb while he slide one finger into you slowly. You detached from his lips, back bowing as you threw your head back. A series of loud moans left your throat as he took the opportunity to leave hickeys on your neck.

He slowly added the second one, scissoring your hole gently to open you up. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He whispered in your ear, playing with the squishy ball of nerves inside of you. You let out a whimper, bucking your hips into his hand. It was safe to say that you felt no pain, just pleasure. Yet and still you nodded at his request. You both watched as his fingers slide in and out of you, coaxing squelching sounds out of your soaked cunt.

Although it felt good, you couldn’t help but think about how his cock would feel. Filling you up just right. You needed him, right now.

“Please, fuck me. I want it so bad.” You whined, still bucking your hips into his hand. He looked into your eyes, scanning your seriousness.

“Oh baby. You’re gonna need to be stretched as much as possible before you take this dick. Be patient with me.” He spoke breathily, kissing your forehead.

“I-I can take it, lo’ak. I promise! Give it to me, please.” You pleaded, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from your incoming orgasm. He smirked, watching your legs tremble slightly.

“Cum first, and then I’ll let you have it. You’re so fucking close, don’t you want to finish, hmm?” He whispered in your ear, before tugging on the lobe with his canines. He sped up inside of you, massaging your sweet spot. Your mouth flew opened, eyebrows scrunching together as your legs shook violently around his waist.

“That’s what I thought. Go ahead, and cum for me Princess.” He spoke in your ear before pecking it. Obeying his orders, you clung to his neck, eyes rolling back as you released on his fingers.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” He muttered through a clenched jaw, pulling his fingers out of you. He brung them to his mouth, sucking them clean as he eyed your small frame.

“Can I have it now? Please?” You begged, tugging at his loincloth. He chuckled, licking his fingers one more time. He used his thumb to wipe his mouth clean before eyeing you up and down.

…

“Take it, if you’re bold enough.” He licked his lips, glancing down at his bulge before looking back up at you. With his permission, you untied his loincloth slowly as you both watched in anticipation. Once it was untied, you gently let the loincloth go, letting it fall to the ground.

Your eyes widened at his size. His cock sprung up, tip touching the middle of his belly. He was pulsating, oozing with precum. He watched your reaction, and the way you used your hands to slide back on the table slightly. He finally dropped his hands to his side, eyeing you like you were his prey.

“Scared?” He asked, eyebrow cocked. You watched his cock jump with every heartbeat, gulping loudly before squeezing your legs together to hide your little cunt from his huge cock.

“Mhm.” You confessed, nodding your head frantically, still staring down at it.

“It won’t fit.” You shook your head, shifting on the table nervously. He scanned your small frame once more, palming his cock to jerk It slowly.

…

“That pussy was made for me, baby. It’ll fit.” He spoke sensually, rubbing his hand up your thigh.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, placing his hands on either sides of your thighs. You nodded frantically.

“I’m gonna talk you through it, ok? Lay back for me.” He reassured, pushing on your stomach gently. You obliged, laying all the way back for him. He gently grabbed your legs, pushing them back to open you up.

He stared at your dripping cunt, your slick trickling down to the table beneath you. He ran his hands down his face before licking his lips, in awe at the site before him.

“All for me, huh?” He asked, tapping the tip of his cock on your clit. You let out a soft moan, the friction bringing you pleasure.

He then proceeded to rub his entire length in between your folds, bucking his hips ever so slightly. You both hummed in unison, watching the source of pleasure.

“Are you ready?” He asked, looking at you through his eyebrows. “I’m scared.” You pouted.

“Don’t be. You’re safe with me.” He reassured. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but this would be the most ready you’d ever be. You nodded, motioning for him to begin.

“Just look at me, ok? Don’t look down. Not until it’s in.” He commanded, caressing your cheek. He lined his cock up with your entrance, probing it with his throbbing tip. You tensed, looking down at the source.

“No, no, no. Relax, baby. Look at me, ok? It’s just you and me.” He nodded, caressing the back of your thighs. You took a deep breath, looking into his eyes. Grabbing his cock, he probed at your entrance again, slowly pushing his length in. Your face was scrunched up as you waited for the pain to kick in. Your eyes were closed, not even wanting to see how he was making this happen.

“Princess, You’re doing so good.” He spoke breathily, watching his cock slide into you at a painfully slow pace to ensure that he didn’t hurt you. However, you were stretched to capacity and the pain was starting to settle in.

“Fuck!” You whined, throwing your head back. You let your legs go, planting your feet firmly on the table in exhaustion. He watched you intently, becoming even more aroused by your reaction to his size. He bit his lip, thrusting half of his cock into you slowly to get you used to him.

“I thought this was what you wanted. Now look at you. A complete fucking mess for me.” He moaned, pushing himself alittle farther inside of you with every slow stroke. The squelching sounds were loud, his cock dripping with your slick.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You blabbered deliriously, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his tip graze your cervix. He chuckled, realizing that you were already drunk off of him, and there was really no turning back now.

“Sorry? Don’t be sorry. I like making little sluts like you my cock sleeve.” He moaned, gripping your neck as he bottomed out. He was the deepest he’d been, almost felt like he was in your stomach. You let out a series of whimpers, feeling as full as you could possible get.

“Open your eyes.” He commanded. You obliged lazily, finally looking down at the source of pleasure. Low and behold, his tip was poking into your lower belly. Your eyes widened, sitting up on your elbows in panic.

“Told you it would fit.” He chuckled, grabbing the sides of your waist, using them as leverage to thrust into you gently.

“You’re s-soo big, lo’ak.” You whined, pouting up at him with scrunched eyebrows. He nodded, watching his cock slide into you with ease.

“I know, mama. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He moaned, focusing on his slow and steady thrusts.

“I-it feels good. So so good.” You moaned, running your hands down his abs. He tilted his head, scanning your relaxed demeanor. “Mmm, so no pain?” He asked, a devilish smirk creeping up on his face.

“Just keep it right there, don’t stop!” You whined, watching his tip make an appearance in your stomach with every slow thrust. Since it was your first time, he thought that he’d take it easy on you until you finally opened up to him. Little did you know the trouble you’d just gotten yourself into.

“That’s good to know, mama. So what was all that talk earlier? About being fucked like a slut? No mercy, remember?” He asked innocently, still drilling into you deep. You were already too fucked out to comprehend correctly.

“I-I remember.” You chuckled deliriously, nodding with hooded eyes. “Yeah? Well guess what, baby?” He chuckled, before biting his bottom lip, staring at your fucked out face.

“What?” You smiled, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth.

His smile fell immediately, sending you the hardest thrust, leaving it inside of you. You gasped, eyes going wide as you stared up at him in shock. He grabbed your neck harshly, pulling your forehead to his.

…

“I’m gonna treat you like the slut you’ve been dying to be.” He growled, pulling your legs over his shoulders, using your neck as leverage to fuck into you harshly.

“Ohhh my- lo’ak!” You moaned sharply, holding onto his wrists. He slammed into your sensitive sweetspot with every hard thrust, deeming the pleasure too much for you.

“Nope! You’ve gotta take it now, baby.” He shook his head, thrusting up into you at a fast pace. Every stroke knocking the wind out of you to the point where you couldn’t keep steady breaths. You watched his cock slide in and out of you, showing itself in your lower belly with every thrust. Although you were experiencing euphoria, you couldn’t help but panic at the abnormal print in your stomach. It made you nervous, scared even.

“Lo’ak! It’s t-too big for me!” You whined, shaking your head nervously as you tried to push on his stomach. The pleasure was too much and your anxiety was through the roof. He smacked your hand away quickly, pinning you back down on the table by your neck.

“Don’t push me away. Ever.” He spoke sternly, his gaze turning predatory. He grabbed your cheeks harshly, squishing them together.

“GOT IT?” He asked in a harsh tone, eyebrow cocked as he waited for a response. With the grip he had on your jaw, there really wasn’t much you could say, so you nodded slowly, tears beginning to well in your eyes from the pleasure.

“Now watch it. Watch me play in your guts.” He chuckled, tilting your head down to look at the source. You whined, opening your legs wider for him as your stomach tensed. The feeling started to consume you. Your eyes were low, cheeks flushed, and it was safe to say you were officially drunk off of his cock. You had no words, no voice, nothing would come out anymore. All you could do was watch, and take every pleasurable stroke he sent your way.

“That’s right you naughty bitch. Take it!” He growled, watching your eyes roll back in complete satisfaction.

“Tell me you love it.” He muttered through a clenched jaw before smacking your face lightly. “I-I love it! I love it!” You moaned, throwing your head back in his embrace. He brought you up to him by your neck, looking you in the eyes as he rutted into you with no remorse.

“I’ll believe it when you cum for me. Go ahead, cum on this dick, baby. I know you want to, I can feel it.” He whispered in your ear, sending you into a moaning frenzy. Your hips began to buck into his, chasing that euphoric orgasm that was building up.

…

“Yesss! You feel s-sooo fucking good.” You whined, face scrunched together in pleasure as you stared into his eyes. He bit his lip, watching you fall apart underneath him. Your legs started to shake around his hips, squeezing him in as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Baby, you’re taking this dick like a pro. My good little slut. All MINE!” He whispered in your ear, angling his hips up to smack your sensitive sweetspot.

And that was all it took for you to come undone on him. Loud moans left your mouth as you clung to him for dear life. He thrusted into you slowly, nice enough to let you ride out your high.

He pulled out once you came down, watching your cum drip down his shaft and onto the floor beneath him.

“Turn around.” He commanded, twirling his finger. You slowly lowered yourself off of the table, legs shaking beneath you, making it hard to complete such a simple task.

However you managed to turn around slowly. Your back flush to his chest. Without warning, he bent you over the table, making you gasp audibly.

“Now that I’ve…broken you in.” He started, running his hand all the way up your slender back, reaching the back of your neck to squeeze it tightly.

“I’m gonna fuck you like the slut you claim to be. No mercy right?” He asked with slight aggression, sliding into you slowly. Your eyes widened at the familiar fullness, humming lowly when he started to thrust into you firmly.

“No mercy.” You muttered, eyes already crossing as you shook your head in response. He immediately started to rut into you like an animal, so hard and deep that your pelvis smacked against the edge of the table harshly with every stroke. You let out a few strained cries, your cheek finding comfort on the cold hard table.

“Don’t cry, now. This was what you wanted, Princess.” He grunted, shifting both of his hands to your hips, using them as leverage to drill into your tight cunt. The pleasure was unbearable from the start. Your knees started to buckle with every hard thrust. You were a whimpering mess, your lips becoming salty from your own tears.

“No, stand the fuck up! Stay still.” He growled, holding your hips In place to keep you up. Setting that unbearable rhythm again.

“I-I can’t.” You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You sat up lazily, holding your weight with your shaky arms as you tilted your head back. He reached around, grabbing your neck from behind.

“You will, though. I want you to keep the same fucking energy.” He whispered in your ear as he abused your sensitive sweetspot. Your mouth flew open, eyes rolling so far back that they might’ve gotten stuck.

“I-it’s sooo fucking deep.” You whined through a clenched jaw, reaching for nothing as you tried to get away from him. You swung your right leg onto the table, placing your knee on the edge to try and crawl out of his grasp. Soon realizing that you made a big mistake because all that did was gave him access to slide deeper into you.

“Nice try. But I already told you about running away from me.” He spoke sternly, wrapping your long braids around his forearm, using it as a leash to tame you. You let out a series of curses, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

“Lo’ak…y-you’re killing me.” You whined, voice rippling from each hard thrust. He tightened his grip on your hair, pulling your head back until your eyes met his.

…

“I don’t care. Shut up and take this dick.” He growled, his lip finding refuge In between his teeth as he watched you fall in and out of consciousness ever so often. You let out a high pitched squeal with every thrust, legs beginning to shake from your incoming orgasm. He felt you flutter around his cock, letting out a guttural groan as he stared at you.

His lips hovered over yours, you both panting loudly. He leaned down, kissing your lips passionately as he sped up his pace. Your mouth flew open against his. He smiled devilishly, nodding his head as he stared into your puffy eyes.

“You like that shit, huh? Gonna cum on this dick again?” He chuckled, both of you nodding your heads frantically in unison, all knowingly for what’s to come.

“Mhm! S- So close!” You whined drunkenly, eyes rolling to the back of your head once more. He used his free hand to smack your ass, watching you come undone for him.

“Oh I’m cumming, lo’ak! Cumming! *thrust* cumming! *thrust* cumming! *thrust*” you announced, chanting between hard thrusts. Your legs shook, releasing your essence all over his shaft.

“Fuuuck!” He groaned, watching his cream coated cock slide in and out of you harshly. He didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down for you. The merciless rhythm turning you into a squirming mess.

“Too much, TOO MUCH!!!” You screamed, tapping his thigh to get him to ease up on you. He smacked your ass harder, leaving a purple handprint on your skin.

“Im not done yet, Princess. Stop fucking moving!” He growled, reaching around to your clit, massaging the ball of nerves.

“Ohhh shit!” You squealed, holding onto his strong arm to keep you up. Although you didn’t mean to, you continued to squirm under him, legs trembling uncontrollably, making it hard for you to stand. He huffed in anger, pulling out of you quickly. You fell immediately, your legs numb from his constant drilling. You took the opportunity to attempt to escape, lazily crawling towards the hut door.

…

“Bring your little ass here!” He shouted, walking to the front of you to pick you up. He held you by your ass, wrapping your legs around his hips. He walked you over to the wall, pinning you there to keep your back supported.

He wasted no time impaling you again. Your mouth flying opened at the single hard thrust. He stared into your eyes, thrusting into you with great force.

“You’re done when I say. Got it?” He grunted, fucking into you at the speed of light. You nodded your head frantically, words stuck in your throat. All that could be heard was aggressive skin clapping. Your legs started to shake around his waist, and your whines progressed in volume.

“Gonna cum for the 3rd time, huh?” He asked, placing his large hand above your head, using one arm to drill into you with no mercy.

“Yesssss!” You cried, wrapping your trembling arms around his neck as you came undone for the third time. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, muffling your loud cries.

Your sweet voice, and the way you sucked him in started to get the best of him. He threw his head onto your shoulder, panting loudly as he sped up his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuuuck, y/n. You’re gonna make me cum… sooo deep in this pussy.” He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your legs began to tremble hastily. squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you whined loudly.

He began to pant, using his tongue to drawl circles on your exposed shoulder. He took a deep breath, inhaling your addictive scent. Letting it send him into a trance. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck in an attempt to scent you. He contemplated on wether or not he should mark you. Your pure, unscathed shoulder was practically calling his name.

…

He couldn’t take it any longer. He flashed his fangs, grazing your soft skin with them before he bit down, just enough to leave a mark on you. You hissed at the feeling, basking in the mixture of pain and pleasure. He pulled back, lightly sucking on the puncture with a low hum rumbling in his chest.

“Mmm, y-you’re driving me….fucking crazy.” He muttered drunkenly, letting his fangs graze over the new womb. The act alone sending shivers down your spine. Enough to make you come undone again with a loud scream.

“Oh my- shitttt!” He moaned, feeling your walls flutter around him. He continued his merciless rhythm, chasing his orgasm. You cried in his chest at the overstimulation.

“Shh baby, I-I’m almost done with you. Took me so fucking well.” He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head once more as his thrusts became sloppy.

You were a trembling mess. Feeling as if your entire body was going numb. You bit your lip , trying to suppress your loud cries.

“Mmm, cumming mama!” He grunted, sending you one hard thrust, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he painted your walls with his sticky seed. You let out a strained whine with every thrust that he sent to ride out his high.

You two stared into eachothers eyes, catching your breaths. He chuckled, pulling out of you to watch his access seed seep out. He placed you on the ground gently but your legs were too numb to stand on. You fell to the ground hard with an agonizing groan. He stared down at you with a devilish grin before bending down to be eye level with you.

He grabbed your neck harshly, before speaking:

“Now you really have something to tell your friends…”

Tags: @avatarsslut @neytirishottie

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar loak #loak headcanons #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak smut #loakedit #loak sully #loak fanart #loak #loak x tsireya #loak angst #loak fanfiction #loak fluff

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judeswhore · 2 years

Text

my girl; steve harrington

summary: you never expected your first time meeting steve’s parents to go so horrifically wrong

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: steve’s shitty parents, not the best writing i’ve done

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

“you know she isn’t coming in just to rent the breakfast club every week, right?” you eyed steve as he pulled open the car door for you, his hand reaching down to grip yours so he could help you out. his fingers were cold against your skin despite the summer sunshine, his much larger fingers wrapping gently around yours. the tiny promise ring he’d gifted you for your birthday twinkled in the light, steve’s thumb momentarily brushing over it before he pulled you up.

“she doesn’t just rent the breakfast club, sometimes she rents the goonies.” he pushed the car door shut behind you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you shook your head.

“she’s not there for the movies, steve.” you slid your arm around his waist, fingers slipping slightly beneath the material of his shirt to graze over his bare skin. his gaze was light and taunting, a lazy smirk lifting one side of his mouth because he could almost feel the jealousy radiating from you.

kennedy walton had been coming into family video every friday for the past six weeks, almost always renting the breakfast club even after spending half an hour browsing the shelves. steve knew she wasn’t really looking, she spent most of her time eyeing him, twirling her hair and smiling just a little too much whenever he glanced over. steve also knew how much it annoyed you, the other girl almost always just so happened to be there when you met him after your shift at the police station and her high pitched giggles were guaranteed to bring out a scowl from you. on more than one occasion he’d heard you mutter to robin that he “wasn’t even that funny”.

“maybe she’s there for keith, he’s been getting a lot of female attention since he grew that beard.” he’d spun the two of you around, both of his hands now settled on your cheeks to tilt your head up to him, and gently pressed you up against the car. your look was so dry that steve gave a soft snort, lips coming down to smother kisses across your cheeks and nose. “or maybe she comes in just for a few minutes of your charming personality.”

“she likes you and you know it.”

“so?”

“so she comes in to stare at you like a total creeper and flirt. terribly. she’s a terrible flirt.” you were almost pouting, brows drawn together in a dramatic show of irritation but steve could only focus on how adorable you were. on how good it felt to have someone love him so much that it bothered them knowing girls came into the store just to stare at him. his nose bumped yours, his thumb brushing in soft motions across your cheek and he could feel the way you melted into him, one of your hands gripping lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

“she’s not that terrible at flirting.” he teased, unable to hold back his grin when you arched your brows. “and she always compliments my hair. you never compliment my hair anymore.”

“because i’m not trying to get you to fuck me.”

“no?”

“no.” you tilted your head, cocking it slightly to one side and watched steve carefully. “you really think her flirting is good?” this had him snorting again, shaking his head with a quiet laugh, his grin only making you smile despite your tiny feeling of annoyance at kennedy.

“god, no, it’s awful. but you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“i’m not jealous, harrington. i just find her unbearable.” steve only nodded, completely unconvinced and brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes dropping for a few seconds.

“fine, you’re cute when you find people unbearable. but you have nothing to worry about, she can flirt as much as she wants, you’re my girl.” his heart leapt at the smile that slowly spread across your face, heat creeping up your cheeks that he could feel beneath his palms. he bent his neck, head lowering as he pushed you a little further into the side of the car, lips tickling against your own.

“your girl?”

“my girl.” his mouth slotted carefully over yours, lips soft and tasting slightly of sugar and you swallowed a sigh, tugging him closer by his shirt. you knew it was ridiculous to be making out with him practically in the middle of the street but his kisses were addictive and his body was warm against yours, fighting off the slight wind blowing around you. his tongue grazed yours and a soft sound tumbled from your lips, his hand sliding around the back of your neck so he could deepen the kiss.

“steve?”

the sharp sound of mrs harrington’s voice startled you, steve pulling back with a dazed expression, eyes wide and a little bit cloudy. he blinked as if clearing his head and then let his hands fall from your cheeks, his body shifting to face his mother. his posture stiffened almost instantly and you felt half embarrassed as you peaked around his arm, flustered over the fact your first time meeting steve’s mom you’d been seconds away from tugging his clothes off. she looked confused, brows drawn in a stern line while she glanced between you and her son.

“hello, mrs harrington.”

“hello…” she trailed off, expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on your hand wrapped lightly around steve’s forearm.

“y/n. mom, this is the girl i told you about.” mrs harrington still looked clueless and it took her a few seconds before she nodded, a tiny smile appearing on her lips.

“right. of course. well, your father and i were just about to eat, why don’t you join us?” steve fumbled slightly, glancing quickly at you and then back towards the front door, momentarily unsure what to say. in the months you’d been dating you’d never met either of his parents, not because he actively hid you from them but because they were never really around. you knew his relationship with them was strained and you’d told him countless times that he could introduce you to them whenever he was ready and you hated that this had been sprung upon him so abruptly.

but, it was in steve’s nature to people please, especially if those people were his parents, and so he grinned, his head bobbing on a small nod. “yeah, sure.”

you knew steve regretted his answer the second you sat down, his father hadn’t even made it passed a proper introduction before he was mocking his son’s current occupation. he was tense beside you, back almost rigid as his knee bounced, the material of his jeans brushing against your bare leg thanks to how close you’d shuffled towards him. your fingers itched to wrap around his own, the need to comfort him almost overwhelming.

“where is it you work again, y/n?” mr harrington had never been told where you work, it was a question that he hoped would give an answer he could use to belittle steve. you were slow in answering, glancing between the older man and the boy sitting beside you.

“the police station, admin and stuff.”

“that sounds promising. working in an environment like that will look incredible on college applications, i bet you get a real insight into a peoples lives.” you gave a little shrug, feeling more than awkward given the way both adults seemed to be ignoring steve.

“yeah, i guess. my dad’s an officer there so he got me the placement. it’s nothing major, i’m not really allowed to do much.”

“even so, just being around such experienced people, you must learn a lot more than someone scooping ice cream for a living. or rewinding old tapes.” mr harrington snickered and steve’s cheeks turned pink, his head dipping until his hair fell into his eyes. his mother sent you a smile across the table.

“i bet you’ve dealt with a lot of the nut cases around town, huh?”

“well, no, i-”

"see, steve, your girlfriend's job is actually worthwhile to her." mr harrington brushed his wife’s input aside, his attention now fully focused on his son, that haughty expression back in his eyes.

"oh, well, it's not really, i only make people’s-”

"what skills are you learning working in a video store?" his tone was unkind, the look in his eyes just the same and even after having been sat down for no less than ten minutes, you understood why steve spent so much of his time around anyone but his parents. they were cruel with their words, sneering at everything, looking down their noses at him as though he was someone they didn’t really have the time of day for. it made you realise why he enjoyed being around your family, they gave him the appreciation his didn’t.

“it’s teaching me lots of things about the real world.” it was a mumble from steve, his eyes locked on his plate as he pushed the potatoes around on it. unease curled in your stomach because you’d never seen him look so down, the crease between his eyebrows enough to tug a little at your heart.

“the real world.” his father snorted, his mother giving an airy giggle but neither you nor steve reacted. “you know nothing about the real world, son and i’m not sure you ever will. you flunked high school, you couldn’t make it to college and now you’ve been stuck with two dead end jobs. they’re supposed to be weekend jobs, steve, not full time ones.”

“i’m learning how to make my own money, how to pay for my own things.” your foot met steve’s beneath the table, curling around his ankle so you could show him some form of support, too nervous to reach for his hand under his father’s stare. the older man was barely paying attention however, he’d already started on his path to insult steve in any way possible.

“and this constant running around with kids is getting ridiculous. every day you disappear to take them to school, to pick them up, to drop them off at their strange clubs. they have parents for that, it’s not your job.” the room was awfully quiet aside from mr harrington’s voice, everyone had stopped eating, the tension thick and suffocating. “i’m honestly surprised you’ve managed to make a stable relationship, especially with someone who appears to have a head full of ambition. i mean, we all saw what happened with that wheeler girl, that was a train wreck.”

“stop it.” steve’s voice was quiet, a poor attempt at halting his father’s bitter words and like expected, they didn’t work.

“i give it a few months and this one’s gonna get equally as tired of you.”

“excuse me?” your fork clattered against the plate, the glare you sent across the table one of the most harshest ones you could muster but it didn’t seem to deter mr harrington.

“you really want to spend your life with someone who has no aspirations? who’s stuck working a 9 to 5 in a vhs store because he couldn’t even pass algebra?”

“to be fair, mr harrington, i’m not sure it’s your place to be interfering in who i want to spend my life with. and the opinion you’ve formed of your son is completely wrong.” steve’s hand settled over yours on the table, fingers slotting together as he shook his head. he knew what it was like to argue with his father and he didn’t want you on the receiving end of his whiplike words.

“wrong?”

“he works in a video store, so what? at least he’s making money, at least he bothered to find a job instead of just sitting around here waiting for you to notice him. you’re never even around to be able to see what he’s achieving now, high school grades don’t define who he is. and those kids you’re so worried about? ask them how they feel about steve. ask them what he’s done for them, how many times he’s been there when no one else was. jesus, dustin henderson worships the ground he walks on, because he’s amazing. because he’s the kind of person you can turn to when everything’s upside down in the world and you know he can make you feel grounded. you should be proud of who he is, not demanding that he changes just to suit the son you want him to be.” silence followed your words, three pairs of eyes settled on you as you let out a shaky breath, heart pounding because you’d never spoken to an adult like that before, let alone your boyfriends incredibly intimidating father.

“well-”

“i’m not really interested in anything else you have to say. steve deserves a hell of a lot better than what you’re offering.” you pushed your chair back, eyes darting to steve who was watching you with a slightly stunned expression and for a second you were afraid you’d overstepped. afraid you’d wandered into territory you had no business in but then his lips curved into that favourite smile of yours and your heart thumped. before you could get up from the table, mr harrington pushed himself up and without excusing himself disappeared down the hall, his dinner left behind.

there were another few seconds of awkward silence in which steve couldn’t keep his eyes off you before mrs harrington followed her husband, muttering something under her breath about needing a vacation. and then you and steve were alone, a table full of uneaten food surround you. you swallowed thickly, turning to apologise for potentially getting him in trouble but steve got there first, his smile almost blinding.

“i love you.”

“sorry?” you blinked, more than a little surprised.

“i love you. so much. that was-” he shook his head, reaching out to brush his fingers down the side of your face, lightly trailing your jaw. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“i’m your girl, right?” you repeated his earlier words, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he let it gently cup your cheek. his own face was still slightly pink and you didn’t miss the way his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. you placed your hand over it, fingers soft against the fabric of his jeans.

“yeah?”

“so i’m not gonna sit and let your asshole dad talk down about you.” the kiss you leant in to press against his lips was soft but completely full of love, a reassuring pressure that steve wasn’t aware he needed. “i meant everything that i said. your dad doesn’t know you, doesn’t know all the ways you’ve helped saved this stupid town and everyone in it. dustin and the others look up to you so much and yeah sometimes you’re an idiot but it’s what makes you you. i love you, whether you’re working at family video or running your own business, i love you steve, exactly as you are. and so does everyone else.”

you settled another kiss to his mouth, this one slightly longer as you leant against his thigh for leverage and he hummed quietly, his tummy doing odd flips and his heart almost ready to burst from his chest. “i don’t think dustin will like you telling me he loves me.”

“he likes to think he’s all grown up now but he still depends on you. no matter what your parents say steve, you’re important to so many people, it doesn’t matter whether you’re terrible at algebra.” he laughed lightly, nudging his nose against yours.

“i’m honestly not that bad.”

“don’t worry about it, i’m pretty shit too.” you pulled back, brushing your fingers comfortingly through his hair, combing it back off his forehead. he looked tired, completely exhausted from what had to have been the shorter dinner you’d ever attended. “you wanna spend the night at my place? my mom was making apple pie for dessert, if we go now we might get a slice before my brothers eat it all.”

steve nodded and reached out to squeeze your fingers lightly, lifting your hand to his mouth to press a feather light kiss to your palm. “i’d like that.”

#joe keery #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

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iluvzaddies · 10 months

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run rabbit run (4)

pairing: yandere!childe x reader

warnings: unhealthy behavior/relationship, violence, nsfw

inspired by: episode 8 of the hbo series “the last of us”

summary: you are out of food as well as medical supplies, so in order to save your father, you take matters into your own hands. you unexpectedly run into a young master in the forest, who is after the same rabbit as you. since he is persistent on getting the rabbit, you make a bargain with him. he develops a liking to you and decides you are his new personal little rabbit.

note: hey, loves! sorry for the long hiatus. i lost motivation to write, but i’m back now! here’s chapter 4 of run rabbit run. it’s a little rushed tho and my writing hasn’t really improved :(

“then, give yourself to me.”

your breath hitched, feeling both disgusted by childe’s wet kisses on your neck and embarrassed because you were not the only people in the room.

the sound of a gun’s safety turned off and childe immediately pulled away from your neck.

your father was on his feet, his left hand clutching on his stomach and his right shakily holding a pistol, which he somehow managed to grab ahold of while childe was getting too close for comfort. “leave my daughter alone, you son of a bitch.”

you couldn’t stand to see your father in that state, but neither could he stand to see his own daughter being harassed by the man he was working for– well, the man he used to work for.

“did you just curse my mother?” childe scoffed, not an ounce of playfulness in his tone. “oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

your father pulled the trigger.

childe summoned his weapons again and skillfully cut the bullet in half.

you gaped at the scene.

your father tried to pull the trigger once again, but this time, his gun was cut in half.

he stumbled back, hitting the shelves, furniture falling onto the ground, smashing into bits and pieces. at the impact, more blood seeped out of his wound and he began coughing out blood.

childe strode towards him with malicious intent. he placed the tip of his weapon under his chin, bringing his head up to look at him in the eyes.

“you’re a pathetic fool.” he taunted. “going against a harbinger like myself? not a smart move. since you are no value to me and you refuse to hand me your daughter, i’ll have to dispose of you now.”

your father heaved out. “before you kill me, i’d like to say a few words to my daughter. tell your men to unhand her. i want this to be between us only.”

childe sighed and rolled his eyes. “fine, hurry up. no funny business.”

the second the pyro agents’ grip on you loosened, you wasted no time running towards your father.

“f–father…” you sniffled.

“my sweet, smart, talented girl. i will always love you. never forget that. you’re the greatest gift one could ever receive and i am proud to call you my daughter.” he caressed your cheek and you leaned your cheek against his warm palm, which would soon turn cold.

you shivered at the though of it.

he said he was proud of you. how could he be proud of someone as weak as you? someone as useless as you?

“i’m sorry. i–if only i was strong enough, i could–“

“stop it. there’s really no way out of this situation, (y/n). don’t blame yourself.”

“that is enough chit-chat, mr (l/n).” childe interjected.

he snapped his fingers and you were back into the arms of the pyro agents.

“no, i beg of you to let him live! i told you i would go with you willingly!” you begged.

“i’ve already made up my mind. and he’s already dying anyway. don’t worry, my rabbit. i’ll give him a quick and easy death.” childe’s gaze shifted to the pyro agents. “take her outside…” he dismissed with a wave. “…unless you want to watch?”

“no.” you whimpered, violently shaking your head.

and so, you were brought outside and you were faced with a carriage.

it wasn’t like one of those plain, wooden carriages. the carriage was black and had intricate golden patterns, drawn by four beautiful gray horses.

the pyro agents’ shoved you in the carriage and shut the door.

“shit! fuck! fuck!” you ruffled your hair in frustration, lowering your head, letting your tears fall onto the red velvet carpet.

you had to do something.

‘if i can’t save father, i should save myself.’

think.

a light bulb went on in your head.

you decided that you were going to hijack the carriage, while childe was still in the cabin and the pyro agents’ were standing around, waiting for their master’s next order. it was a better idea than trying to outrun them in the cold weather.

you slowly opened the door, the other door. luckily, carriages had two doors.

you snuck towards the driver, quiet as a mouse, and then made your move. you climbed up the seat, pushed the driver out and flicked the horses’ reins.

you made it.

you escaped.

…for now.

(part 5 coming soon)

taglist:

@elernity @whydoisworld @nebusokuxp @victoria1676 @esthelily @coolforeal @hnhshh @lady8vampire @sunniisyde @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @yummyberry @katthehatt @lynvrie @dreamlessnight @bluerskiees @haikyuusboringassmanager @scarasvision @hudiebutterfly @ieathairs @kazusbby @vvyeislazzy @ursinaw @fantasy-enthusiast @weepykisser @cryoarchoness @docosahexaenoic-san

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metalbuckaroo · 2 years

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 2: Finger Fucking

Summary// jealousy is new to Bucky, but he always knows how to make up for it

Warnings// fingering, jealous Bucky, smut, unprotected sex, use of nicknames- dollface, mentions of ripping clothes, cursing

AU// Roommate!Bucky x F!Reader

Note// not extremely proud of how this turned out, and the layout from day 1 is way too much work so I’m tapping out on it already 😂

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

“Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried out of my mind! You’ve never bitch buttoned me before!” Bucky snapped, following you to the kitchen from his seat on the couch.

“I told you I had a date, Buck.” You laughed, sitting you keys in the mug that was designated for them at some point.

“I know, I can smell the cheap cologne. And, you know our deal. Did you break our deal?”

“Why’re you so worried about it? What’s going on with you?” You looked up at him, amused by his behavior as he swallowed hard.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky shrugged. “I just wanna know if you fucked him.” He said, shaking his head. “We had a deal. If you fucked him, that deal would be off. And, I can smell his shitty cologne all over you.”

“You’ve been on dates too, James.” You pointed, getting an eye roll in response. “Keep doing that and they’ll get stuck.”

“I haven’t slept with any of my dates. I don’t want to. I have everything I need right here, in this apartment, between those pretty thighs. I don’t need to go find something else.”

“I didn’t sleep with him, okay?”

Relief washed over Bucky, the only reaction he seemed to muster being to smash his lips to yours. Hands finding your waist to pull you to the cold tile floor with him. “Buck-”

“Just tell me no.” He breathed out, shoving the skirt of your dress up as he slotted between your thighs and pulled your underwear to the side.

“Keep going.”

A content sigh slipped out when two fingers ran along your slit, Bucky’s hot mouth leaving wet kisses along your throat as he eased them in. Curling and twisting them against your velveyy walls as your fingers weaved through his hair. Biting back mewls and whines as he fucked his fingers into you, pressing his thumb to your clit.

“Buck- oh, fuck, Bucky.” You cried out as he applied just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive nub, bionic arm reaching to pull at the front of your dress until your chest was bare to him. His mouth latching to one of your pebbled buds and tongue flicking over it. “Gonna- holy shit-”

Your eyes screwed shut, hands fisting into the front of his shirt as your orgasm washed over you. Bucky’s teeth grazing your jaw as he removed his fingers and yanked at the fabric of your underwear, the lacy material ripping with ease.

Gripping the front of his shirt, you pulled until the buttons popped off. Mouth falling open when he slammed into you, Bucky taking the opportunity to slot his mouth over yours. Tongues pressing together in the hungry kiss.

The feverish pace his hips kept made it hard to do anything but pant and moan his name as his pleasured sounds flooded your ears. Body overwhelmed by the full sensation as he took you apart again, thick cock hitting every sweet spot in the most delicious way.

“S’fucking good- love how you feel around me, doll face.” Bucky grunted, tingles spreading down his neck when you tugged the back of his hair.

The familiar feeling in your lower belly formed again, the tile floor doing nothing to help cool your heated skin as the bubbling pleasure started to overflow. Fraying every nerve and raising goosebumps to your skin as you tightened your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. Rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy as his lips smothered your again.

“Shit-“ Bucky hissed against your mouth, hips stuttering when he spilled into you with a drawn out moan. Riding through both of your afterglows with short, gentle thrusts.

You shivered from the empty feeling left behind as he slipped from between your thighs, adjusting your dress and placing a brisk kiss to your lips.

“We good?” He asked quietly, tucking himself back into his pants.

“We’re perfect.” You grinned as you sat up. Bucky letting out a heavy sigh as he leaned back against the cabinets.

“Are we toxic?”

“I don’t think so.” You laughed, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

He fidgeted with his fingers, eyes glued to them as he thought over whatever was going through his mind.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. We aren’t together, it’s not my place.” He murmured, a playful grin cracking across your face.

“I dunno, how you reacted makes me wanna do it again.” You teased, shrugging your shoulders as he gave a daring look.

“Behave yourself.”

————

Taglist: @auriel187 @marvel-3407 @winters1917 @k-jones16-blog @wickedravyn @ah-blossom @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @buckybraneslover111 @bonkybarnes106 @wakandabiitch2 @vllowe @kmuir1 @alyhull @stardust-galaxies @michellefoster12 @xleggo-my-elevenx @fionanovasleftnut

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #roommate!bucky x f!reader #roommate!bucky fluff #roommate!bucky smut #roommate!bucky angst #roommate!bucky #roommate!au

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chelseasdagger · 10 months

Text

Restoring Faith

Father Paul Hill x Reader

Summary: You pay Father Paul one of your midnight visits and he finds himself struggling with his sworn devotion

Warnings: religious themes, sacrilege, smut, oral over clothes (m!receiving)

Author’s Note: This is a late birthday present for @chellestrash , my true love of my life, and I hope I’ve done this little idea you love justice :’) I’m absolutely positive I didn’t make it sounds as pretty as some of the other fics, but I hope it will be alright :)

Word Count: 4k

The cold air sends a shiver down your spine as the gravel crunches beneath your feet. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you keep your head down to protect your face from the wind. You follow the path that connects the great big church to the smaller house just behind it, the trail only visible due to the moonlight pouring down from above.

You’re no idiot, you’re aware anybody could see your somewhat frequent visits to see him. However, you convinced yourself that it was okay to go, so long as you waited past midnight to take the trip. Whether it was actually a valid excuse was a whole other subject. One you didn’t particularly want to think of and potentially use to talk yourself out of doing this.

Stepping up the old, creaky stairs of the small porch, you give one last glance over your shoulder to the abandoned street the church faces. There’s not a person in sight and you raise your hand to knock on the wooden door.

It opens after a moment and you smile at the sight of the priest in front of you. He’s dressed completely in black, excluding the stark white collar that frames his neck. You can’t help your eyes from giving him a quick once over, taking in the dark button up shirt tucked into the form fitting slacks that drape down his legs. His voice calling your name brings your gaze back to his face.

“How…,” he trails off, craning his neck higher and looking past you, “how can I help you?” His greeting is stiff, and you know he’s worried about curious eyes possibly seeing you here. You can’t fight the way your lips pull into a smirk at the idea of him already getting nervous.

“I just had a question, Father,” you begin to explain, and notice him looking at you with cautious eyes. “Is that not what you said? That we can come to you and seek guidance? Ask questions about our faith?” You can admit that it was slightly unfair using his own words against him, but it works all the same. He bows his head before nodding once, silently stepping aside and allowing you to walk inside.

It’s the same as it always was, with the couch being the only real centerpiece to the room. The curtains are drawn closed on each of the windows and it gives the sense of seclusion from the rest of the small island. The three lamps that line the right wall are all lit, painting everything in a warm glow. You’ll never get over how welcoming his home was, how it provided a safe space when you needed an escape.

The sound of the door clicking shut makes you turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, slightly hesitant as he stays silent and waits for you to speak first.

“Nobody saw me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you flash him a cheeky smirk. Paul responds wordlessly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He steps further into the room, his arm brushing yours as he walks to the small, open kitchen area.

“I haven’t seen you at Mass,” he finally breaks his silence. You watch as he grabs an empty glass from the drying rack beside the sink before filling it with water from the tap. “Can I get you anything?” he offers with wide eyes, motioning towards the cup in his hand.

“I was sick,” you pick the first thing that comes to mind, “allergy stuff since the weather is changing.” The lie rolls right off your tongue. You watch as he drinks his water down, fixating on the way his Adam's apple moves with each swallow. Giving yourself a mental shake, you answer his earlier question.

“And I’m okay, thanks,” you decline his offer as you lean against the back of the couch. The priest says nothing but gives a solemn look your way.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he speaks gently into the quiet room. His dark, brown eyes look sincere, enforcing the truth behind his words. There’s a small pout on his lips and you’re not sure if it’s from your faux illness or if he can somehow sense that you’re not speaking the truth. Either way, he continues with the conversation.

“But I’m glad you’re feeling better. W-What can I do for you?” He sets his glass down on the small counter beside him. “You… um, mentioned seeking guidance? What about?” His eyes are focused onto yours and you find yourself only able to keep eye contact for a few seconds before his stare feels like too much.

“Well,” you begin with a light laugh under your breath, “I just wanted to have you read to me again.” Your fingers toy with the thick seam of the couch cushion. “Is that okay? It just—it helps, is all.” You’re not certain the explanation makes a ton of sense, but there is truth behind it. His words help; it relaxes you to come and listen to him read, even if you don’t always find yourself secure in the faith you grew up with.

When you look up at him again, Paul is standing with a genuine smile on his face. It’s clear he likes hearing that he can help, and you feel a twinge of guilt shoot through your chest at how he genuinely enjoys what he does. It makes you being here that much worse, knowing how content and devout he is.

“Of course, I-I can do that,” he replies, his voice somehow even quieter than before. “Did you have a certain story you wanted me to read from?”

You think over his question for only a short moment. Deep down, you knew you could listen to him speak about even the most mundane things, including what he had eaten for breakfast. His voice was the thing to calm you, not the words he spoke.

“I don’t really care. Whatever you’d like, whatever we left off with,” you flash him a small smile. The priest nods only once before walking towards his bedroom, disappearing into the shadows of the small corridor leading to the door.

You let out a big breath of air you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Being alone with him felt good, it always did, but you couldn’t deny the guilt once again growing in your chest. Deep down, you knew this was wrong, but it always felt good when the guilt shaped to something else. Something stronger and impossibly difficult to ignore.

There’s only a small moment for self reflection before you hear his footsteps echoing out on the wood floor again. You glance towards the sound and find him returning back into the main room with the Bible wedged between his arm and his side. His fingers are busy, rolling the fabric of his long sleeve up to just above his elbow. As inch after inch of his skin is exposed, you find yourself unable to look away from the veins trailing up the inside of his arm.

He repeats his actions on the opposite side, gazing up at you from under the few strands of hair that have fallen out of place. Your lip finds its way between your teeth subconsciously, your own way of anchoring yourself and ignoring the need to tuck the loose curls back behind his ear.

“In moments where I truly begin to doubt my faith, I…” he trails off, fixing the last roll of his cuff over his forearm. He grabs the Bible and brushes his thumb over the raised letters as he continues, “I like to look back on the story of Job.”

You can’t even stop the exasperated sigh that leaves your body. He looks up at the sound, his head tilted slightly like a confused puppy.

“Job? Really, Father? I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of restoring faith,” you curl your fingers to create air quotes over the last two words. Paul gives a small smile, lowering his head. He’s dealt with your opinions regarding faith and why God allows things to happen as He does.

“Maybe… maybe to some but I-I find that it’s a reminder,” his voice is quiet and calm, already slipping into his usual pattern of speech when he’s behind the lectern. He steps deeper into the living room and passes by you, making his way to the empty couch.

“A reminder to trust in Him even when we’re not sure of-of the path,” he finishes. You’re thankful he’s behind your back so he doesn’t see the way your eyes roll at his canned response. He must’ve seen the tension in your body though, taking note of the way your arms are still crossed over your chest, because he tries once more to get you to listen.

“You do remember that he was rewarded? In the end?”

“Yeah, but he went through hell to get it… hardly seems fair,” you answer him.

“Well, the Lord, He—,”

“If you say ‘Works in mysterious ways’…” you cut him off with a warning glare as you finally turn to face him.

Paul lets out a breathy laugh, staring down at the thick book in his hands. “I was only going to say that He doesn’t always…” he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, “reveal His plans to us in a way that makes sense at the time. That’s all,” he finishes with a tight-lipped smile.

There’s a brief moment of silence that hangs in the air as you wait for him to move past this conversation. His quick inhale fills the room as he clears his throat quietly, his arm gesturing towards the couch.

“Shall we?”

“Of course,” you respond softly, your words tucked under your breath. He walks around to the front of the couch, his eyes fixed on you as you follow his path. He sits down as his fingers curl around the blue, knitted blanket that’s sprawled out across the cushion beside him.

“Here, let me—,” he doesn’t finish his sentence before draping it across the back of the couch. There’s a spot for you now, close enough that you knew you’d be touching him if you sat beside him. As tempting as the offer is, you find yourself shaking your head gently.

“Is-is something wrong?” he asks, his big, dark eyes searching yours. They’re wide and innocent, truly worrying that he overstepped. Once again, you’re reminded of how pure the man before you is; you nearly reconsider your original idea that made you seek him out tonight in the first place.

You shake your head as you stand in front of him, silently kneeling down and sitting on the floor. The priest’s expression instantly grows apprehensive. You flash him an innocent smile but his unsure glare never falters.

“I’ll just listen from here,” you tell him, trying to ease his worries. He looks hesitant but eventually swallows before opening the Bible. His long fingers splay out across the thin pages, turning them one after the other before finally stopping on a page.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words flowing effortlessly off of his tongue. His voice falls into the deep, rumbly tone that you only ever hear when he’s reading to you. There’s no audience, no image he has to maintain, and the words are so quiet it seems almost as if he’s reading to himself. You’ve always preferred these moments, when he appeared the most authentic he could be.

The more he reads the more comfortable you feel. Your body begins to relax and an idea strikes up in your mind. As he turns the next page, bringing in a deep inhale to continue the sentence, you let your head rest against his knee.

He immediately stutters over his words, repeating the same sound over and over. He never breaks his concentration though, and eventually pushes through and finishes the sentence. Not before flashing you a warning look as you rest your cheek against his leg, though.

It isn’t entirely inappropriate and would even be seen as a normal, platonic gesture. But given his profession, you knew it was absolutely not appropriate. You don’t pull away however, just keep your body slumped against his leg.

He continues speaking the old words, his pronounced sentences dissipating into muttered whispers the longer he goes on. Admittedly, you felt special that this tone was reserved only for you; there was a faint flare of pride in your chest knowing that you were the only one to hear his words so rumbly it’s as if they never fully left his chest.

At some point though, you begin to grow bored of just sitting there and waiting for him to finish. Usually these late night reads brought your anxiety down enough just to fall asleep on the priest, leaving him in the most awkward position of not knowing how to convince himself any of this was okay. But right now, you’d rather have some fun.

Paul knew something was up the second he saw your hand reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. The muscles in his leg immediately tense, you feel it from under your skin. But you don’t want to raise his suspicion so soon.

Stretching further towards the Bible in his lap, you spread your fingers and place both palms over each side. Once his view is completely shielded from the printed words, he immediately looks into your mischievous eyes.

“What—what are you doing?” he asks confusedly. His eyebrows are pulled together as he awaits your answer.

“Just wanted to see how much you knew,” you reply genuinely. You knew the man had poured over this book time and time again, searching for meanings deeper than the blatant lessons that were spelled out for the reader. It always sent a conflicting feeling coursing through you, the way he could recite word after word from memory as if he was the one who had conjured them up. Conflicting because you liked the reminder of how devout he was, and isn’t that just a multifaceted guilt trip.

Paul smiles at your youthful game, and mentally accepts the challenge. He parts his lips before the words fall from his tongue.

“And when the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all,” he begins, never looking away from your face as he repeats them with no hesitation.

“For Job said, ‘It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’” The priest can’t stop from chuckling at the end of his sentence, having looked at your own genuine, bright grin. “Thus Job did continually.”

Once he’s finished, he flashes you his own smile before glancing down at your hands covering the pages still. You slowly remove them, giggling under your breath at how he passed your unofficial test.

The priest licks his lips once before clearing his throat gently, continuing again with his reading. As the minutes pass, you find yourself not paying much attention to the actual weight of the words. You just focus on his muttering voice until you're reminded of how sweet his last stutter sounded. And because you just can’t help yourself, you’re determined to hear it again.

Snaking your hand up his thigh, you feel his body grow stiff all over again. That adorable stutter becomes prominent once more, his eyes quickly focusing on your fingers rubbing up the inside of his leg as he attempts to finish the paragraph. Trying to pace your plan, you curl your fingers around his thigh and give him a moment to get used to the feeling.

“What are you doing?” These words are the coldest he’s spoken all night, yet you stay silent and wait. It takes him longer this time to finally react, to give his consent in the smallest agreement possible. It’s so minuscule that anybody else wouldn’t have noticed, but you know him awfully more than you should.

Half a nod. That’s all it takes, and you let your fingers graze lightly over the black slacks. They're taught from how he’s sitting, and you can see the outline of his thigh through the stretched material. His voice shakes now, the tone less steady and sure, as he forces himself to keep reading.

You’ve got to admit he’s doing better than you thought. He doesn’t stop reading, you assume he’s just trying to focus on something else, anything but your hand moving between his thighs. You must’ve hit a sweet spot though, inching near the little alcove where his thigh meets his hip, because the next thing you hear is a shuddering exhale as he halts his reading.

And there it is only a second later—the outline of his cock showing through the dark dress pants. It never took very long, although this time it seems even quicker than usual. He continues to grow there, until you can see the fabric straining to accommodate for his now swollen head. You’ve barely touched him and he’s already so responsive.

Now that you can physically see the effect you have on him, there’s truly nothing that can stop you. Sure the nagging guilt is still in the back of your mind, telling you that you shouldn’t do this, but you push it away as much as you can. He looks so tempting right now: the loose strands of hair falling into his face, his lip caught between his teeth as he suppresses his groans, the faint twitch his cock gives when he feels your finger lightly drag along the base of his length. You love seeing him this desperate for you.

Your one finger lightly tracing the length of him is truly all it takes for the first twitch to happen in his trousers. The sight makes your mouth nearly water and you finally curl your fingers around him properly. Your grip isn’t too tight considering it’s over two layers of clothes, but it doesn’t stop the choked grunt from finally escaping his lips.

Still you continue, leaning closer until your breath is fanning over the bulge. He feels it, you can tell from the way his fingers clutch the book that’s resting on his other leg. The veins in the back of his hand become more prominent the harder he grabs it. Every part of his body is conflicting itself; he wants it but he knows he shouldn’t.

Still you wait, staring up at him and silently asking again if this is okay. He doesn’t stall as much this time—his eyes squeeze shut tightly before nodding quickly again, forcing another inhale through his nose.

You don’t waste a second and quickly press your tongue flat against the outline of his tip. Slowly licking along the length, you watch his body reel from how hard his stomach clenches at the feeling. He begins to shut the Bible but you grab his wrist before it can close all the way. You shake your head slowly, attempting to convince him to keep it open.

“Y…You know I can’t.”

“I like hearing you, Father,” you mumble quietly in the room. He stares down at you with an expression you can’t quite describe. There’s no emotion on his face, but his eyes look pained, no doubt from the name you referred to him as. He hardly moves except for the shallow breaths that you can only notice because of how close you are to him.

Waiting for his reaction seems to drag on for hours before he finally sighs through his nose and opens the book. You notice the way his fingers shake as he smooths out the page before trying to remember where he left off. Your lips pull into a smile as you hear his strained voice fill the room.

Squeezing the base of his cock tighter, you drag your tongue across his tip again before wrapping your lips around it. The story is cut off with his deep grunt, and you hum around him at the pleasant noise. The priest has his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to regain his composure.

You knew this was an awful, sacrilegious act you two were doing, but it doesn’t stop the heat growing between your legs. Leaning closer into him, you work your mouth on him faster, sucking harder through the fabric. His hand closest to you grips the edge of the seat as he seethes through his teeth.

Paul finally looks down at you, staring into your eyes that have never once left his face. You hold his gaze before glancing wordlessly to the book still in his hand. The whimper that he barely slips out is your new favorite sound, replaying it in your head as you shut your eyes.

“A-As long as… m…my breath,” he’s cut off with a shaky inhale. He tries to read aloud, but his voice trembles the entire time.

“Keep going, Father,” you pull your mouth away from the outline in his black trousers to encourage him. There’s a long, dark stripe along the fabric from your tongue, but another wet patch where the head of his cock is straining against the material.

“As long as my-my breath is in me, and t-the spirit of God is in my nostrils—,” he’s finding each word more impossible to speak. You never allow him to give up though, rubbing your hand over his thigh to support him.

“My lips will not speak f…falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit.” He manages to finish the paragraph before taking deep breaths, swallowing thickly and trying his damndest to not look at the sinful scene in his lap. But his body betrays him once more, twitching into your mouth when you hum sweetly around him as a reward for finishing what you asked him to.

Pressing your tongue right in the ridge under his swollen head, you hear a new sound escape his pressed lips. It's a guttural, raw twist of your name and it’s unexpected.

“Oh… Oh—Wait,” he tries to warn you but it’s much too late. His release happens without him realizing, his body moving while his mind doesn’t have a chance to catch up. When you feel him pulsing in your mouth you glance up at him and oh, what a sight it is.

He’s completely disheveled, biting down into his hand to muffle the noise he’s ashamed for anyone to hear, and the veins in his neck are protruding just above the edge of his collar. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but you always make sure to memorize the sight down to those details. To always keep the picture in your mind.

What really catches your attention though, is the stream of white bubbling up through the taught fabric around his sensitive tip. You didn’t realize he would have finished quite this fast, but you definitely don’t mind it. Squeezing the middle of his length tightly, you slowly slide your hand up, determined to get all of it out of him.

Paul’s thighs are beginning to shake from the sensation and you can only imagine how good it must feel for him. You stick your tongue out as you lap up the mess he’s made, and his thighs jolt to close around your body. His sensitivity to your every touch leaves a desire that burns hotly in the bottom of your stomach. You love the feeling of having power over him, admittedly too much.

Once he’s clean, you finally let go of him altogether and sit back on your legs. He’s left panting in awe as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You wish you could see inside his head, try and understand what he’s thinking. But right now his dark eyes are glossed over and he looks as if he’s somewhere completely else.

“Thank you, Father.”

He scrunches his eyes shut tightly the second the words fill the air. It’s silent except for his panting as you rest your head on his knee once more. This time it is a platonic action, your way of showing him you’re there without words. And there you sit beside your priest in the small, old house behind the great big church, with the weight of everything that just happened.

#father paul x reader #father paul fanfic #paul hill x reader #midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass fanfic #hamish linklater fanfiction #hierophilia #as someone who grew up christian i did feel a lil guilty writing this #HOWEVER #he cute.#chelsea writes #happy birthday pea!

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aka-indulgence · 11 months

Text

A Kraken’s Rage

So after making this post I’ve decided to make it. Here’s a kraken, angry because someone stole his wife >:(

————

The rain beats down on the deck, the sound of crashing rain and storm surrounding you. You hear men shouting as the ship rocks back and forth. Your dress is soaked. If it kept you warm before, you’re cold now. The chill bled right under your skin down to your bones. You shiver and shudder uncontrollably.

I’d rather be tied up under the deck…

You strain against the thick, rough ropes that tied your middle. You were hoping that, maybe with the rain, you’d somehow be slippery enough to slip out of them. Of course that wasn’t the case- you felt stupid. You wanted to itch your arms so bad, the rope was horribly coarse and whenever you moved the frayed parts would scratch your skin. You grab onto the rope with the edges of your fingers and pulled at it, to no avail. None of the men were paying you much attention, too busy attending to the ship.

Except for one, apparently.

“Ay lass, why don’t ye stop your strugglin’,”

Your face sours as the captain of the ship walks over to you, back straight and shoulders wide, like a soldier. And just because he mentioned it, you try twice harder to pull at your ropes, trying to throw your weight around to no avail.

“I see ye keep struggling fer hours now. Why don’t ye give to the sky? Yer not gettin’ out of them ropes. They’re tight, I made sure of that.”

You growled at him. “What are you doing paying attention to me? Isn’t the captain supposed to pay attention to his crew and make sure this ship doesn’t fall apart?!”

He laughed. Oh you hate him, you hate him so much. You hated how he looked at you. His band of pirates raided your seaside town and he had the gall to ask you to be his wench. Of course you said no, but the big man apparently got offended by a little woman saying no, and dragged you to his ship. You’re not sure what he’s planning to do to you by the end of this, but he does enjoy causing your displeasure.

“Never been on a ship while the storm be raging? This here ship ‘as handled just fine. Ye on the other hand might run off an’ do somethin’ stupid again.”

You shut your eyes and muttered under your breath. “Please… save me Sans.”

“Who be ye prayin’ to, lass?” You opened your eyes and decidedly looked away from the captain. “I’m surprised ya ‘aven’t abandoned hope. No one can save ye. Ye can’t save yerself less than throwin’ yerself overboard.”

You flinch when you hear the sound of a sword being drawn, and the menacing glint of the captain’s sword close to your neck. You strain against the rope, trying to keep your distance.

“Unless ye want me to end yer voyage right now.”

“N… no…” you whisper, gritting your teeth, shuddering in fear this time.

The captain’s chuckle was stopped when there was a sound, off in the distance.

It was no thunder, and though you don’t think you’ve ever heard something like it, you felt a shiver up your spine. Like the sound of landmasses creaking before they split apart. You’re sure the men felt it too, because all of them stopped what they were doing, their voices falling silent. Even through the rain and the waves, you could hear your breath. The captain turns his head towards the crow’s nest and yells.

“Wayland! What it be!?”

“I-I don’t know sir! But there be something in the water!”

“Going to need more than that there, Wayland!” The captain growls. The rest of the men have run to the railing, trying to get a better look.

“I-it’s coming… It’s huge!”

Everyone collectively yelped when something bumped into the ship, sending a couple of men off their balance. The captain himself grabbed onto the mast to steady himself. The men still at the railing start to yell and curse, throwing themselves off and towards the middle of the ship.

“It’s a foul beast captain!”

“Then what be it?!” the captain shouts, getting impatient.

The men get increasingly frantic as another sound shakes the whole ship, this time much clearer and closer. It rumbled deeply, as if the ocean itself was growling at the ship.

There was a moment where everything went quiet, and all you could hear were the crashing waves, and the rain.

…

A wail rips out of the water, the sound of a hundred grieving whales. Then, tentacles the size of redwood trees split the waves, slamming onto the deck and taking a tight grip on it, sending a couple men flying out of the way.

Your mouth opens. The captain murmurs under his breath.

“No…”

“KRAKEN!!” Wayland cries, as a tentacle wraps around the mast above him.

“I see that now, Wayland!” The captain growls, as he runs off to bark orders at his crew.

Your heart pounds as a familiar skeleton hand digs its fingers into the deck, causing it to splinter and crack under it. A skull rises out of the water, big red lights in his sockets swimming red with rage, the monster gritting his teeth, staring at everyone on the ship. He rises halfway up his ribcage. His eyelights scan over the scene, looking at every person until you meet his eyes. In a blink, his expression changes, eyes turning into a familiar seafoam color.

The unmistakable sound of his purr cuts through the screams of the panicking men for a moment.

“Sans,” you breathe.

A ‘small’ smile widens on his mouth, and you see a tentacle approach you- before someone slices their sword into it.

Sans cries, the sound as loud as thunder. His eyelights shift to red once more, glaring at the man who’d done it, still attached to the hilt. He grimaces, sending a wave down his tentacle, flicking both the man and the sword off as if he was merely a mosquito. He slams down both hands on both sides of the ship, making it look like a toy.

He shrills, his voice rippling through the air and no doubt striking fear down to the pirates hearts. A voice booms through your mind.

YOU

TOOK

HER

AWAY

FROM

ME!

Screams erupt. Chaos takes over around you as the men try to fight off his tentacles with guns and swords, to no avail.

Your jaw goes slack as you watch them get tossed around like ragdolls. You squeak when a man gets slammed down next to you, his sword thrown out of his hand as a tentacle weighs heavily on him, before he gets wiped over the deck. He snatches them one by one, throwing them off into the raging skies. You see a man’s cry end as he gets choked by the tentacle constricting him.

One man’s scream fade as he’s picked up high above the sea, in front of Sans’ snarling face. His mouth opens, revealing the sharp monstrous teeth, like sharp rocks below the cliff, and he lets out a sky-splitting shriek, drowning the sounds of the man. Lightning strikes, coloring the sky white and leaving their silhouette as black as night.

You hear an awful crunching sound, then silence.

Rain trickles down your face like a river, from your forehead, over your nose, down your cheek to your chin.

Ahead of you, liquid falls to the deck. It isn’t rain.

The portside of the deck has been ripped off. A tentacle grabs onto the bowspirit and snaps it off like a twig. His shadows move and dance over everyone. A lot of men have resorted to retreating below deck.

This… this Kraken’s Rage… his anger, the tentacles hooked on the ship, making it creak beyond what it’s capable of…

This was all for you. Maybe you should be afraid like the men much bigger and stronger than you, running for their life. But all you felt was wonderment for Sans, who had miraculously found his way to you.

The storm surged along with the kraken. The ocean a deep teal and the sky dark gray. Thunder crashed as he cried. It was as if he was the storm itself.

“W-whoa!” you exclaim, as the ship starts to rock back and forth so violently, that a wave crashes over the deck, seawater spraying your face.

“Sans! Help!”

He turns to look at you, and reaches with his hand. A finger as big as tree bark start to claw and pick at the ropes, until they split apart. You stumble out of your bindings and make your way to his hand, when you hear a yell.

“Fire in the hole!”

Your heart drops as the world slow downs for a few seconds, a cannonball shot at Sans’ ribcage.

“N-no!”

Fear strikes you, as you worry for a moment that your beloved kraken had just been shot through the chest with a bullet. It hits his rib and you hear an awful crack. Sans wails like a whale that’d just been harpooned, and your jaw falls as he falls backwards.

… But it doesn’t last long.

He growls, a flash of red in his sockets, and his fingers run through the starboard, the men falling with their cannons. You look over the side, seeing how long it takes for you to hear their splash. You swallow. The ship was bigger than you thought it was.

You shake your head, looking away from the water, and back to Sans. You make for him, but before you could get his attention, a pair of hands close around your arm.

“Agh!”

“Yer not going anywhere, lass.” You grit your teeth when you realize the captain’s dragging you away from what’s left of the rails.

“What are you doing?! Your ship’s a wreck, you should abandon ship!”

“We might ‘ave a fightin’ chance if we can get farrr away from that there beast ‘o yers. He might stop if he sees he might hurt ye…”

“Urgh… let go of me you scoundrel!”

You go back and forth from the captain, struggling for your life. You stomp the captain’s boot, but that only gets him to curse and pull you harsh enough that it felt like he’s trying to twist your arm off. You yelp, hating that despite using all your effort, the captain was still too strong for you to escape.

Luckily for you, there was someone far stronger than him.

As soon Sans saw what was happening, he shrieks, bringing both of your attention to him. His eyelights had locked on the hands on you, and that set him off. He let out a continuous high-pitched gurgling sound, and before the captain could unsheath his sword, a hand had slipped in between you and him, separating the both of you. The captain roars in frustration- sounding like a helpless seadog compared to Sans- eyes widening when a huge shadow looms over him, a tentacle posing to strike.

He manages to dodge at the last second by scrambling out of the way as it hits the deck like a cannonball. The cracks and crunches as the tentacle continues downwards makes it sound like it reached all the way to the bottom. You peek out of Sans’ fingers.

“Ah, ye missed me ye foul beast!” The captain shouts triumphantly. You grit your teeth and brace again Sans’ finger, wishing you could fight him yourself.

The captain celebrates too early, however, as the planks below him creak under his weight and cracks, screaming as he falls down the floors of the ship.

You see a flash- water was quickly filling the ship. Without further ‘encouragement’ from Sans, the rest of the men were jumping into the water.

You’re raised to Sans’ shoulder, and he lets you climb onto it. You fold, clinging onto his neck, as Sans lets out the last of his frustration, ripping what’s left of the ship into splinters, the sails falling and some screams going silent as he drags the ship under the waves.

You pant, shuddering in the cold, as you see the ship turn to nothing but frothing bubbles and driftwood. Sans puffs his chest out, as if he’d just taken down a competitor.

A speck moves in the water- and the captain surfaces, flailing onto a piece of wood. His moment of peace is quickly broken by the snarl Sans emits, shaking the air around you. As the captain looks up, a tentacle raises above him, and it sways from the base up to the tip. He thrashes his legs, trying to swim out of the way, crashing down on him like a wave, surely crushing him under the water.

He won’t be bothering you anymore.

Sans stares down, bellowing a steam of breath from his mouth. There’s a group of men on a tiny lifeboat, but Sans pays them no mind. He turns around, and they yell when a tentacle drifts near them, sending a tiny wave that rocks their boat.

The storm was merely showers now, water dripping from your hair.

You were still so cold, shivering every few seconds.

There’s an inquisitive sound in Sans’ trill. He picks his hand up close to you and lets you climb on, and you practically hug your knees to keep yourself warm. You’re grateful when he covers you with his other hand, shielding you from whats left of the rain. And his hands were starting to feel warm… like there were little flames in his palms.

His eyelights dilated. As he tries to get a better look of you, you get a clear vision of his eyes. Those seafoam orbs look so kind when they look at you.

He trills again, sounding like a mix between a dolphin and a baby whale. Timid, checking you. It’s hard to believe that your gentle giant really was the same kraken from legends that have brought many to their watery dooms.

“It’s… it’s ok Sans. I’m ok, I’m ok now. Thank you.”

He didn’t need to speak in your mind for you to understand. He purrs, as gentle as lapping waves on the shore. He smiles as sunlight penetrates the heavy clouds and the drizzle fizzles into nothing. He brings you to his face and instinctively you take a step closer to press your cheek to his.

Mmm… he’s so warm.

The sun starts to warm you and though your hair and dress were still soaked, they weren’t dripping as much anymore. Your skin started to dry. Your breaths are shaky and you smile.

You kiss him.

“Thank you, Sans…”

#kraken sans #aka writing #can u imagine. being dumb enough to steal the kraken’s wife #also theres one fanart of kraken sans angry bc wife is gone #that happens here #:]

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.3k

chapter summary: You and Joel spend the night together.

warnings: piv sex, oral sex, breath play, dirty talk, fingering, spitting, cockwarming

Chapter Eight || Chapter Ten

You know these walls too well - they're thin as paper, carrying every sound from one room to the next. You can still vividly remember waking up to the sounds of your grandparents' murmurs and footfalls in the early hours of the morning when you and August were just kids. Sound travels easily when you aren’t careful. Both you and Joel had been cautious climbing up the stairs. August was still in the shower. You can make out the steam billowing from under the bathroom door like a fiery dragon with sharp teeth.

You close the door silently, Joel right behind you. He’s seen your room before but it feels different now, having him here. The air that surrounds you is heavy with tension and blurted out confessions. You didn’t think much when you invited him upstairs. All you knew is that you didn’t want to part from him. You wanted him to stay. Finding it too difficult to face him, you tentatively walk up to the window, your fingers curling around the edge of the curtains with the intention to close them.

You can't help but think about the way his room is just across from yours. On your second day of living here, you noticed that your room looked directly into Joel's. It's like you're connected by some invisible thread. Tommy had stopped by later in the day, offering to show you around. You didn’t really need him to show you around. You already knew these parts well. But you accepted his kind offer anyway, knowing that the other man just wanted to get to know the new neighbor.

Joel creeps up behind you. His body firm and strong, his heat suffocating, his presence enough to crush you into nothingness. You notice the curtains to his bedroom are drawn tight and your stomach churns with something unpleasant. Joel traces a path down the delicate fabric of your dress with the back of his fingers, his touch following the gentle curve of your spine. You lean into his touch. The curve of your ass brush against the front of his jeans, and you can't help but let out a breath, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Your heart beats so loudly in your veins that you're sure Joel can hear it too.

“This is going to sound creepy but I always hated it when you closed the curtains.”

“I’ve never had a stalker before. It’s sweet.” he teases, kissing your shoulder. “Did you look into my room often?”

A puff of air escapes through your nostrils, “I wouldn’t say often. Just on days I felt lonely. It was more frequent when I first moved in, though. You were so cold to me back then.”

“I had to be,” he murmurs, his voice sounding almost in pain. Guilty. “I was tryin’ to keep away from you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

You do. It’s more clear to you now. You think of all the times when Joel felt like nothing but a grumpy neighbor. Back then you had no inkling that his unpleasant mood had anything to do with Tommy. You also weren’t aware that Tommy wanted you in any way else but a friend. Guilt gnaws at your insides—you should stop this right? You should tell Joel to go home and wait until one of you explained the situation to Tommy. The younger Miller was contempt to be your friend, but would he be as understanding if he learned you were screwing his brother? You’re pretty postive that’s a big no-no in the brother handbook. Your thoughts wander to August. If the two of you fancied the same person, and said person chose him…you would want him to come clean right? It would be better compared to the alternative: Tommy catching you on Joel’s lap.

A chill settles at the end of your spine. You ignore the sudden excitement coursing through your veins. This isn’t quite the moment to be exploring what kinks you may or may not have. Almost angrily, you yank the curtains closed and turn to Joel. You throw your arms over his broad shoulders, pulling him close.

Joel hums. His hands move up the back of your thighs, your skin prickles with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You feel the fabric of your skirt gather and lift, revealing more of yourself to him. Calloused fingers follow the swell of your ass. He feels the lace with his fingertips, tracing the patterns. It tickles. You feel a dampness collecting at the seam. Joel leans in, and you’re half convinced he knows the mess gathering between your thighs as he brushes his lips against yours.

“This feels like a dream,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s not, sweetheart. Hey, look at me,” And you do. His pupils are blown wide like he’s taken every drug on the planet. Your pulse quickens. You feel the warmth of his hand envelop yours. He places the tingling limb against the front of his pants. You apply pressure. Feeling the thickness through his jeans. “See? You can feel me, right? Feel how hard you make me. I’m all flesh and bone, darlin’. Real. This ain’t no dream you’re gonna wake up from.” he lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “So if you want to stop, better tell me now.”

You look into his eyes. You know that he means it. You know that if you show even a hint of reluctance, he would stop, no questions asked. He’s a good man. You can tell he’s trying very hard not to avert his gaze so you don’t think that he’s lying. Your heart beats steadily, every slow pump loud and deafening in your ears. Lifting your hand, you cup his cheek. His reaction is imminent. You feel the scruff of his cheek scratching the inside of your palm. The chafe alone to rising goosebumps over your warm skin. Somewhere you hear a clock. In his eyes, you see Dali’s Persistence Of Memory; colorful clocks melting away like cheese. Time is fleeting. Crumbling away. You’ve never felt that notion as strongly as you do now. As if the world is coming to an end soon; your body reacting and trying to warn you—SEIZE THIS MOMENT BEFORE IT’S GONE.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes. Your steady heart now beating a mile a minute. You’re having trouble understanding what’s happening. Joel is here. He’s not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere either. So why is your body reacting like it’s about to cease to exist?

“I want this,” you gasp, voice quivering. “I don’t want to stop, Joel. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Neither do I, darlin’.”

Joel strips you slowly, stealing kisses as he lowers the zipper at the back. His fingers dance over the exposed skin and slide up to your shoulders. He pushes down the straps of your dress. Your breath catches in your throat. Joel doesn’t allow the dress to fall, instead, he holds it gently and pulls it down, kneeling as he does so. You feel his lips on your bare thighs. He moves up to your clothed sex and presses his lips against the mound, inhaling your scent. Arousal builds sticky and wet underneath the fabric. Your legs start to tremble, prompting Joel to grip the back of them, steadying you. He makes his way up leisurely. Kissing your stomach, the skin above your sternum and following a path to your neck.

By the time he reaches your lips again, you’re begging him to touch you. His name a prayer exhaled from your lungs. His tongue follows the seam of your lips and as you open up for him, he undoes the clasp of your bra. It falls to the floor softly, joining your dress. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Joel presses into you, his large hands cupping and kneading your breasts as he shoves his tongue deeper, groaning into your mouth. You mold into each other. He leaves no room to breathe, suffocating you, his tongue sliding over yours. You’d happily die in his arms.

Both his thumbs simultaneously swipe over your peaked nipples and you break away. The sudden flow of oxygen makes your world spin. He’s still hungry for you. Dipping into your neck and sucking the sensitive skin. Your head falls back, his one hand slips to your back, holding you.

“Let me taste you,” he mutters.

Joel falls to his knees once more. A sign of worship. He slips his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, pulling down the fabric. You hiss when the cool air chills your soaked folds. He hums in approval, his eyes glued to you as your underwear joins the pile of clothes. Mesmerized, he pushes to fingers between the lips, stroking your clit and feels your growing wetness.

“Shit, sweetheart. What a pretty cunt. This all for me?”

“Yes,” you swallow audibly and he smiles, his eyes meeting yours. “All of it is for you, Joel.”

Numerous nights you have thought of him; his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But none of it—none of it could’ve prepared you for the actual thing.

Your knees buckle at his first taste of you. He squeezes your thighs, smoothing his palms over your tight flesh. You can’t help it though, you’re shaking like a leaf. Joel doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it looks like he enjoys how quickly you submit to him. He groans into your cunt, tongue delving deeper between your folds as his nose nudges repeatedly against your clit. Every stroke of the warm muscle a pRickling sense of pleasure that sears your skin.

You whimper, “J-Joel—I…It’s t’much. I can barely stand.”

His eyes flicker upward to meet yours. Mouth still buried in your pussy, wiggling his tongue as you coat his chin with slick. He observes you for a moment. Takes in your heavy gaze, your parted lips, your sweat-soaked skin.

Joel briefly removes himself from you, a string of saliva following his lips. You swallow.

“Fine,” he rasps, his drawl heavier than usual. “Lay on the floor.”

“W-What?”

Immediately after you’re tripping backwards, his hands coming around you to cushion your fall. You can't help the giggle that escapes your throat.

“Joel, there’s a bed right there.”

“Later,” he murmurs and dips into your heat again. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet and I’m out of patience.”

There’s something wildy erotic about being on the floor, spread out for him. Like a tired warrior finally collecting his spoils. He pushes your legs over his shoulders, saliva-filled mouth hovering an inch away from your pussy. He breaths heavily, watching you pulse and drip. Joel spreads you with two fingers, pointed tongue swirling around your clit before he dips lower, stroking and massaging you with his mouth. Your head falls back, pleasure raking over your skin. Joel is still fully clothed. You love being exposed to him like this. So needy, and bare, and open. He takes it, happily—takes every part of you and cherishes it. It almost makes you want to cry. He’s so willing. And he’s making you feel incredibly good with his mouth. He’s lost in you, and you’re lost in him.

“Does it feel good?” he groans, not bothering to look at you. Despite him not being able to see, you let out a whimper and nod frantically. He nips at the skin right under your pubic bone. “Tell me it feels good, honey.”

“It does,” you choke out with a strangled moan. “God, it feels so good. I think—”

I love you—

You cut off before the words can spill. You can’t. Not now. Not when you just got him. You blame the heavy fog that settles over your brain. You feel for him, this much you both know— but your feelings can’t be that strong yet. It’s just the hopeless romantic in you that wants to take control.

You’re not sure if Joel fills in the blanks of where your sentence was leading to. Your thighs bracket his face, soft flesh closed over his burning red ears. The only indication that gives you a hint that he heard you is from the way he groans and tilts your hips up, pushing his tongue into the tight ring.

A loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly scream his name, covering your mouth at the very last second. You’re positive he noticed that. Heat coils under the soft flesh of your stomach. He wiggles his way deeper, pushing, pushing and pushing. His mouth moves languidly between the slit. A gentle caress from his lips. You grip his head, back forming the perfect arch as you start to grind down, chasing your lingering orgasm.

But then you lose him, and you nearly sob.

“No,” he says, his voice scratchy and deep. “Let me make you come. I want to explore you, sweet girl. Want to see what makes you tick.”

“B-But—”

“Do you trust me?”

You dare and look down. His eyes are rounder, charcoal pupils eating at the color of his eyes, dilated with lust. Swallowing thickly, you nod. You catch his mischievous smirk as he dips back down between your legs.

Before you feel his mouth again, without warning he purses his lips and spits—loudly. It lands on your clit, the gentle force of it making you jump and hiss between clenched teeth. He starts rubbing your clit, wickedly, and when he’s satisfied with the extra shine of your pussy, he spits again. Seeing him makes your eyes roll back, a string of spit connecting him with you. Your chest heaving, you feel another gush of arousal rolling down your sensitive skin. He’s unbelievable. You’ve never expected him to be so raw and visceral.

“My pretty neighbor all spread out for me,” he groans, rubbing two fingers over your aching clit. The sudden pressure makes you jolt. “God, honey, I could just spend the rest of my days between your legs. Tasting you, watchin’ you go stupid for me.”

You garble out something inaudible. Joel grins and lowers his mouth, swiping his tongue over you before looking up again. “What was that?” he teases. “I couldn’t quite catch what you said?”

You swallow and lick your lips, your mouth drier than sandpaper. “Mouth.” you say, the rest of the words dying on your tongue.

“Mouth?” he grins. “Mouth where?” your breath catches in your throat when instead of feeling him on your throbbing pussy, you feel him against the inside of your thigh. “Here?” he asks. “Or…here?” then he presses his mouth above your mound, taking in a deep breath. “Oooor—”

“Fuck, Joel stop,” you snap, tugging at his hair. “My pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy—Please…”

Time slows. His gaze moves to you languidly, flitting across your face, taking in the state you’re in. He reaches out, swiping a tear that had unknowingly escaped the confinements of your lashes.

“Okay,” he whispers, the trace of cruel mocking gone. “You look so pretty right now. You know that right?”

He says it so earnestly that, despite not truly believing it, you nod. This seems to comfort him because his swollen lips close over your clit, sucking hard. A moan rips from the back of your throat. Your nails biting into his scalp. He sucks again, tongue lapping at the sensitive nub rapidly. His name falls from your lips. Your legs trembling as it frames his face, the burn from his beard a pleasant one. He moves down and pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. Two fingers deftly circle your clit—It’s too much. He’s giving you everything, all at once. Spit drips down to your chin, your mouth dropping wide with no noise.

Heat rolls in your stomach, spreads all across your body. Your skin prickles and your walls start to flutter, squeezing his tongue.

Your orgasm rips away from you. It’s violent, lingering over the line of being downright painful. Your eyes snap wide, panic flares in you when you realize all those voices you held back started to bubble from your lungs and move up your throat. Your vocal cords shaking with a need to shout. Your nostrils flare, your lungs expand, his name is on the tip of your tongue, about to burst. All the while your orgasm still rolls over you, leaving you dizzy and aching between your legs. But before your fear of your brother hearing you comes into reality, Joel clamps a hand over your mouth, his heavy palm muffling the voices.

The strokes of his tongue become softer, slower—sweeter. Like cool velvet on your burning skin. You exhale through your nose, the remnants of your orgasm fading. Your breathing evens out and his hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin gently. He kisses the swell of your stomach and you whine at the loss of his sinful tongue.

“Wow,” he croaks, making his way up your body. His lips glistens with slick, his mustache damp. A lazy smile blossoms on your lips. “You taste amazing. Best thing I’ve tasted in my life.”

“I guess dinner wasn’t good then.”

He chuckles, wet lips brushing over yours. “That ain’t what I meant, sweetheart. Your chicken was great.”

“I’m glad.”

You slightly shift to get more comfortable, and when you do, Joel let’s out a strangled moan. With a look of mischief, your smile shifts into a grin. He’s embarrassed, his eyes dropping to your chest instead of holding your gaze. A beautiful shade of red spreads out from his chest and darkens his neck. Still smiling, you lift yourself and press your mouth into the crook of his neck, sucking the sweat-soaked skin tenderly.

“Joel?” you ask and he hums, eyes fluttering closed. “Do you want to fuck me now?”

He grunts, “God, yes.”

“Do you want to move to the bed?”

Joel mulls over your question for a moment. His chin shifts to one side then the other, then, with a shy smile, he meets your gaze.

“I—” he clears his throat. “I kinda like it…being on the floor. If that’s okay? I promise after that we’ll get on the bed.”

Your smile never faltering, you nod. You’re happy you’re not the only one enjoying the instinctiveness of being on the floor. His hands skim down your body, one finding purchase between the curve of your back and the floor. He gently cups your hip, pressing his fingers into the flesh. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.”

He’s been waiting for that answer because as soon as you give it to him, his hand is between your bodies, unzipping himself with one hand and pulling his cock out. You salivate when you feel the heavy weight of him over your stomach. A bead of precum sticks to your skin, he rolls his hips, smearing wetness over your lower abdomen. You sigh blissfully, head falling and your legs parting to accommodate the width of his hips.

Sitting back on his knees, he slowly touches his cock, watching your pliant body overcoursed by tremors. With a deep sigh, your eyes drop to his length. It shouldn’t surprise you that he has a pretty dick. Your mouth waters. He’s thick, and the thought of him stretching you makes you clench and drool all over the carpet underneath. He’s definitely been blessed and you keen at the sight of him poking through his jeans. His palm swipes over the head, coating himself in a sheer amount of precum. Soft, dark curls crown the base. You imagine yourself taking him between your lips, feeling him throb deep within your throat, constructing your breathing.

With a soft moan, your fingers trace the slit of your sex, you’re so wet.

“You’re temptin’ me to just come like this,” he coos, stealing the air from your lungs.

You change the subject, eager to see more of his sunkissed skin, “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”

“Later,” he dismisses again, aligning himself with your entrance. You feel the tip of his cock and shudder.

“Oh, you like this hmm?” you purr, watching his brows pinch together with confusion. “You like having me all naked and vulnerable—completely at your mercy, while you’re still fully clothed, only your dick out—ah,” you pant heavily as he starts to fuck you with just the tip, working you open. A smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t worry, I love it too—god, I love it so much. I love opening up myself to you, Joel. I wish I could rip my chest open and show you all of it.”

He doesn’t answer with his words but with his body instead. He burrows himself into your space, his mouth finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Tongues and lips moving haphazardly, a confession of sorts. He sinks into you, inch by inch. His weight presses down on you, and you feel a familiar tingle spreading from your toes to your spine. He breathes praise into your skin. Telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him. You accept the whispered words with an eagerness that surprises even you. Your arch into him, body bending in a way so that his cock slides further in.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer as he fills you up completely. It’s overwhelming. Your walls flutter to accommodate to his width. Hot breath ghosting down your cheek, he decorates your face with delicate, fleeting kisses.

“Can I move, sweetheart? You feel so fuckin’ good.” he accentuates every word with the slow roll of his hips. “I’ve thought about you like this. So many times.”

“You have?”

Joel takes that as his cue to start moving, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. The warmth between your legs spreads throughout your body, and you can feel yourself getting lost.

“I have. But none of it could compare to the actual thing.”

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and valleys of your skin as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him, and he takes the invitation eagerly. His thrusts become harder, faster. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. This time you’re the one to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans into the kiss, hips stammering forward. His chest heaves.

Joel breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he pounds into you. You tighten your grip around him, urging him on. A moment later he’s pushing your legs up, hamstrings stretching and thinning. It aches. Into your skin, he’s whispering that he’s close, and it’s followed up by frantic apologies that dampen your neck. Your nails bite into the muscles of his back. You breathe heavily through your nose, biting back moans. He’s drilling into you, a sensation akin to being split in half warming your body. With every snap of his hips, you pulse around him, clenching and squeezing him tight as he fucks your next orgasm out of you. It’s too much, too sudden, and you’re crying. Silent tear pools down from your lashes.

Joel hears the way your breath catches in your throat and moves away only to press his lisp into your eyes. He’s still sputtering out apologies, telling you that it’s okay, that it feels so good and that he has you. Warmth blossoms in your chest and you melt into the floor, your body only for him to use.

With a high pitched sound dropping from his lips, Joel pulls out. His movements sloppy and eager, he rubs his hard length over your mound, the head catching against the swell of your stomach. You shudder when he groans, it’s raw and animalistic. He coats your trembling body with his seed, warm and wet, dripping down and staining the rug. You let out a stuttering breath and Joel leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, lips brushing your hairline. “I wanted to last longer.”

You smile, nuzzling up to his neck. “That’s okay,” you answer. “I take it as a compliment. Nothing more sexy than someone being so into you that they lose a bit of themselves, right?” Joel nods, knowing well what you meant. You press your lips against the bald patch of his beard. He smiles. “Besides, you can make it up to me. If you really want to.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, dipping down for another kiss. “You can't even begin to imagine the things I'm about to do to you.”

A soft orange light caused by a street lamp nearby trickles from between the curtains. The light forms a sharp streak from between the windows to the bed. Your clothes glow golden on the floor, alongside with Joel’s. It’s late. The sky a shiny black as the rest of the neighborhood sleeps soundly. It’s been long since August’s bedroom door echoed closed into the night. Joel had his hand pressed tightly against your mouth. Your nostrils flare with each breath. Your stomach sinks into the matress, his hips slowly rocking into you, soft, wet sounds making your skin prickle with pleasure. His body a comfortable weight above you, screaming comfort.

“Such a perfect cunt for me to fill,” Joel breathes into your ear. You shudder, a muffled moan bouncing against his palm. He clicks his tongue. “So noisy. I’m startin’ to believe you want to get caught with all the trouble you’re makin’ me go through to keep you quiet.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your hips jerking to meet his slow thrusts. A sharp exhale leaves your nose. You’re burning all over, sweat clinging to you like a second skin. He grinds himself deeper, pinching your nose with his thumb and forefinger, you jolt only for Joel to shush you.

“I think I just hit the nail on the head,” he mutters. Your chest expands, your lungs starting to burn and head growing dizzy. “Fuck—Sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. You want the world to hear don’t you, how much you love takin’ me? So perfect, so so perfect. I love fuckin’ you nice and slow.”

You pulse around him, soaking him as slick trickles down your thighs and wets the bed. Your eyes roll back and your body juts uncontrollably. The lack of air adds pressure to your temples, but it feels so good. You want him to control everything like this. You want him to be in charge as you roll about life, only to come back to him.

He removes his fingers, oxygen filling you once more. His palm is still heavy over your lips. Joel drags his nose up the frame of your face, gently nipping the skin above your cheekbone.

“Jesuus,” he groans. “Did you come, darlin’? Just from that?” he sounds almost delirious, joyful. His strokes become faster, harder. You squirm underneath. Joel’s hand moves up from your mouth to your hairline, pushing sweat-soaked strands away from your forehead. His lips touch your cheek. “Such a needy thing.”

You close your eyes and breathe heavily through parted lips, a half smile curving at the corner of your lips. You were needy. You don’t ever want to let him go. You want him to hold you like this until the end of the earth.

You want this night to last forever.

It’s the early hours of the morning. You stir awake with hands gripping tightly at your waist. You blink away the dampness of your eyes. The street lamps are turned off, the sky now a muted, grayish blue. Joel’s hands skim down your body, still reaking of sex and sweat. Your ass is bare, and he caresses the warm flesh. His cock is heavy and hard, pressing between himself and the small of your back. You sigh, rolling your hips. He lets out a choked out sound, his lips now touching the back of your neck. It feels like a dream; laying naked with him here. It’s a beautiful thing. Exquisite.

“You can’t sleep?” you ask silently, afraid to disturb the approaching day.

“Too many thoughts,” he grumbles accompanied by a soft movement from his hips. You let out a sigh.

“What thoughts?”

He wets his bottom lip, “Borin’ stuff. But the main focus is always how I want to bury myself into this here sweet pussy of yours.”

“You have quite the mouth on you, Mr. Miller,” with a smile, you shift and turn to him. His hand falling to your waist. You don’t want to think of what these “boring stuff” were. But you do have a sneaking suspicion it was to do with You, Tommy…Sarah. He’s thinking of all those who might get hurt by this, or affected. In all honesty, you don’t think Sarah would mind, but then again, you don’t really know much about her relationship with her mother. Being the nice neighbor is one thing, being in a relationship with her father is another.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

Blinking, your gaze meets Joel’s. He smiles and his thumb comes up to swipe the skin under your eyes. Where he touches burns. You mimic his expression and smile back, then you shake your head.

“Nowhere,” you answer. “I’m right here. And what you want can be arranged, you know?”

He hums, eyes dropping to your chest and pebbled nipples. “Can it, now.”

Joel cups between your legs, middle fingers sneaking between your soaked folds. He tenderly circles your clit. “You sure you aren’t too sore?” he asks.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I can handle you fucking me into oblivion again, but I can most certainly warm your cock. Help you sleep.”

“What an angel.”

You bark a humorless laugh. “Yup, that’s me. Miss angel, right here.”

“You’re thinkin’ about him aren’t you?” he asks, pushing a finger in. You suck in a breath, your body starting to shake. Joel massages your walls, working you open as his gaze searches for something in your eyes. “You’re not alone in this. I hope you know that. He’s my brother, if anythin’ I should be the one takin’ the weight of this. Not the other way around.”

“That’s not true. We’re both responsible about what might happen,” you sigh, heat licking the base of your spine. His lips brush your forehead as he pulls out his fingers and them with the head of his cock instead. You shuffle closer. “I think I’m just scared. This is all so new. Losing you is the last thing I want.”

“You ain’t gonna lose me,” he quickly says. “And we don’t have to tell anyone right now,” he adds with a whisper. He fills you, and it’s the most glorious feeling in the world. You throw your arm over his shoulder, pulling his chest flushed against yours. A faint pain blossoms between your legs, you moan at the feeling. “It can be just this. We’re in no rush.”

You have so much more you want to say. But you don’t. Instead you revel in the feeling of him inside, pulsing, and throbbing. He so close that you can hear his heart beat. He’s right, there’s no need to rush this. Maybe a weak later you would return to just being the woman that lives next door, who’s to say? There’s no need to stir anything in your already chaotic lives.

Joel nuzzles your neck, kissing the hard interior. He rests his forehead there, taking deep breaths of your scent. You want to move closer —if possible— but you’re afraid that when you do, you’ll won’t be able to hold yourself. And you’re enjoying the feeling of him inside too much to want this to end.

“Better?” you croak out, playing with the damp ends of his hair. He nods.

“It’s way better,” he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. “See you in the mornin’ neigbour.”

“See you in the morning.”

a/n: wooooo we got a new moodboard! Isn't that exciting??? I also have another one I made for a specific arc that'll last a couple of chapters but other than that, this one will probably be staying until the end so I hope you like it!

Also I'm stupidly happy to finally be writing smut for these two dfvfdvbf no one warned me that writing a slowburn would be essentially edging yourself lmaodfvdf many more horny chapter are to come! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any questions or things you want to see happen, let me know! Sending kisses and hugs to the lot of you 🧡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #young!joel miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x platonic!reader #hbo the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #stay in bed

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), spanking, fingering, PinV, choking, brat taming, slight bit of name calling (slightly dubious to have sex with someone after rescuing them from a kidnapping but we'll ignore that)

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a prolific genral who's been kidnapped while she was trying to party it up with her friends. Ghost and Soap are recruited to rescue her, and soon find out that reader's attitude might be more of a challenge than the gang they're trying to rescue her from.

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die.

Not because your family didn’t have the money, not because there weren’t enough resources to save you, or even because of your own natural pessimistic tendencies. No. You were sure you were going to die because your father had made it abundantly clear long ago that you didn’t matter to him.

You weren’t a man. You couldn't carry his title on and you’d grown up learning that that was mostly all he cared for. His legacy. It was one of the few things that cold man spoke of fondly, always lighting up at the mention of your brothers but never you. And as a result you’d grown up living for even the smallest chance at spiting him for it. You partied and drank and slept around with boys that made even your friends curl their lips at you sometimes.

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang.

It was enough to leave you disoriented, you weren't taking in much. Not that there was much to take note of. Your eyes were shoddily covered over with a scrap of harsh, scratchy cloth and you could only see little slivers of things here and there. Your hands were duct taped to the arms of an office chair and your mouth was similarly covered so as to prevent anymore screams and curses.

You watched sets of boots as they echoed around the frigid room, and saw gun barrels and machetes, men roving across a scuffed up concrete floor. You didn’t catch anything that made you want to see more. Especially when you heard the taunts they slung at you in their thick accents.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

If the blindfold came off then that would only mean one thing. They were going to make good on the salacious threats they were now casually slinging your way. The fantasies they were now trading back and forth as they returned to speaking their own language. That was a small mercy at least. Not having to hear about how the last few moments of your life would go.

You could feel your body shaking like an addict in withdrawal and your poor heart was leaping around in your chest like a caught frog. It didn’t help that you were riling yourself up either, imagining what the newspapers would say. Flashing up in your mind like something out of an old batman episode with a blaring brass section accompanying them.

Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

You couldn't even be sure if you were still in Mexico. For all you knew you were in all those other countries that you’d been too busy crafting a reputation to learn about in school. What were they again? Guatemala, Cuba? You were sure those were somewhere close by. Funny the things the mind distracts itself with when you’re stuck tightly in a chair surrounded by leering wolves.

If only you hadn’t been drawn in by that tattooed man with the big arms. If only you’d been a good girl and enjoyed your holiday and stuck close to your friends instead of going out on the hunt for attention from bad men covered in tattoos and cologne that smelt like bad decisions. You could practically hear your father’s growly voice echoing through your mind.

Stupid little girl.

He’d been saying that for as long as you had memories of him. He’d be satisfied now, you lamented. You’d proved him right in the end, he’d always said your lifestyle would catch up with you and you’d be wishing that you’d just behaved for once sooner or later.

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so.

- 👑-

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours, but as your breathing grew more ragged behind the tape you knew you were experiencing the last few precious moments you had left.

The men were sounding more and more pissed off as they rattled off curses to each other, filling the room with sharp hisses. They weren’t getting the results they wanted. They’d even removed the tape at some point and had you screaming out for a video, but apparently that wasn’t getting them anywhere either. They got tired with your cries and slapped an even thicker strip back in place.

You were starting to cry, feeling the stiff cloth go damp against your skin and irritating it further. It was so thick and itchy over your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to pull it off. You needed to see, needed to breathe. You were panicking. You needed out, you needed air, you needed to feel safe again.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

You were chanting it in your mind, it rang through your head like a death toll. It seemed like those would be your last thoughts. You’d die panicking and snotty and covered in dried salty tears that mixed into a sludge with your thick mascara.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the-

Thiew.

Crack.

Thud.

Every muscle in your body froze as you heard an alien sound zip through the room. Then suddenly everything erupted.

The men’s shouts turned into screams and barked orders and suddenly you were being wheeled around in your chair in the dark like a shopping cart. You were whizzed past men that were running and crouching into your limited vision, aiming their guns and returning fire as more bullets wailed into the room. And finally you found yourself slamming into a corner somewhere, banging your knees against a rough drywall.

You screamed behind your gag and listened out as more men hit the ground and the guns grew into a cacophony of bangs. Death’s orchestra played for a solid few minutes, ringing in your ears and distorting the sound of your thrumming heartbeat as it crawled up through your throat and into your head.

You were sure you were going to die.

The battle raged on for a few moments more until suddenly the men’s shouts silenced and the bullets grew sparse. All you could hear was the echoes of gunfire and shrill ringing from your unprotected ears.

What was that?

You swore you could hear voices coming toward you.

“It’s alright, lass.”

You jumped as you felt someone touch your shoulder and cursed behind the tape in your mouth as the unidentified man tried to soothe you. It wasn’t until he pulled your blindfold down and you were greeted with his bruised face and ruffled mohawk that you calmed down, focusing your gaze on his icy pale eyes. He wasn’t one of the men who took you.

“I’m gonna take this tape off, ye good wi’ that?”

You frowned at the man, unsure if he was speaking english. You weren’t used to that accent, what was that accent? Scottish? Irish?

You only had a few seconds to look up at him blankly before he gave up on getting a response and ripped the tape from your mouth, drawing out a scream with it.

“You motherfucker!” you shrieked, feeling a layer of skin peel from your face.

“Easy! It’s ok! What's the sayin’ agian? Best to rip it off like a band-aid, yeah?” he chuckled.

“Not when it’s fucking duct tape over my face, you- you stupid- oh, oh no, my god, oh my god look out!”

You screamed as you caught a giant man emerging through the shadows and through the doorway into the dingy room you’d been wheeled into. A skull mask obscured his face and a massive gun was braced in his hands, he looked as if he could take on an entire army by himself. He was fuck off sized and ready to kill.

Your rescuer whipped around and raised his gun at your shout, body bracing and ready to defend you. Though, as he faced the hulking behemoth behind him he relaxed and lowered his gun again, cursing you through gritted teeth. Though, he turned back around to you with a smirk.

“He might be a scary lookin’ bastard, but that ones on our side,” he explained, slinging his gun behind him and getting to work on the tape on your wrists. “Sit tight and I’ll get you out of this in a sec, ok?”

“Is she hurt?” the masked man asked, flicking his dark gaze over your slumped body.

“Nah, doesn’t look like it,” the first man replied.

“She is scarred for life actually,” you huffed out, clutching your one freed arm to your chest. “What the fuck happened? Who the fuck are you two?”

“Settle down, princess. For now we need to get you out of here and back to your father, quickly and quietly, yeah?”

His accent was different from the other man’s, though to you it was just as difficult to make out through that thick gravely timbre. That one was definitely english, you thought, it sounded like ones from TV shows you’d watched when you were younger. It made you wonder what the hell the two brits were doing rescuing you when your dad was an American general.

Did he find them on Craigslist or something?

Typical of him to find a couple of brutish thugs to come fetch you rather than calling on one of the teams that he worked with, you thought sourly.

Though, as both your arms were free and you stepped onto wobbly feet you grew to appreciate his choice in rescuers more as they both towered above you. Even if they weren’t American they clearly knew their way around a fight.

“We’re gonna need you to follow us and do exactly as we say, ok? There’s still a few men lurkin’ about and if you want to get back to your family in one piece, we’ll need to avoid them,” the first man said, putting his hand on your tensed shoulder.

“You haven’t even gotten them all?” you hissed, escaping from his hold and backing against the cracking wall behind you.

The room was unfinished, crumbling from bullet holes and exposure to bad weather from the open windows. It looked like something straight out of a movie set, Soderbergh eat your heart out.

“We’ve gotten most of them,” the Scottish/Irish man shrugged, reaching around to secure his gun in his arms once again. “Some probably ran off durin’ the fight, but we can’t assume they aren’t hiding somewhere waitin’ for us.”

“Just be a good girl and do as you’re told, ok princess?” the other man growled, turning away from you and walking back out of the room.

Your mouth dropped open and just as you were about to fire off another retort, it died in your mouth when you heard a shot ring out from the hallway.

“All good, LT?” the first man called out, ushering you behind him.

“Solid, Soap,” the other man replied.

Soap?

That’s just great, you thought, you were stuck with a man named soap and his big ape of a friend wearing a spirit halloween special across his face. You could practically feel your chances of survival drop through the ground and into hell. You could feel the hot flames licking at your feet already, biting at your toes. Or perhaps that was the fact you’d been stuck in heels for an inappropriate length of time. Who knew?

“Alright, lets get movin’. Remember to stay close and stay quiet. We don’t know where these guys are hiding,” Soap reminded you. “Stick to my back and we won't let anythin’ happen to you, alright?”

You were out of sass for the time being. You could only nod your reply as you followed his orders, too afraid of him leaving you behind as he started advancing out of the room.

You might have felt annoyed at the fact they were treating you like a stupid little girl, but you were too wrapped up in the adrenaline of the situation to object anymore. You’d heard the gunfire, could still hear the echoes of it pelting through your ears. You knew you couldn't afford not to listen to the two incredibly patronising soldiers before you.

“Try to keep your eyes up, lass,” Soap whispered, gazing back at you briefly before heading through the doorway.

“Why do I have t- oh fuck!”

You could’ve thrown up as your eyes connected with the bloody corpses that littered the hallway like flies on a roll of catcher paper. There were so many of them. You could feel the bile fighting its way up your gullet as you stopped against the wall and closed your hazy eyes. Bodies. Actual dead bodies.

You’d never seen one before. Yet here you were surrounded by them, queen bee of a dead hive. It was too much. Staying up felt like fighting gravity and you were reduced to a pile on the floor in no time, huddled on a relatively blood free patch and stuck still against the rough chalky grey wall to your side.

“Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” Soap muttered, staring down at you with a worried look.

There were a few seconds of blessed silence where you closed your eyes and everything was ok for a second. You weren’t in a shithole crack den building in god knows where and instead you were back at the hotel, getting ready to go to bed with your girlfriends. Yes. You were going to put on pyjamas and take some painkillers and peace the fuck out till noon the day after.

“Fuckin hell.”

The growl brought you out of your daydream and soon you were looking up at the cold crocodilian eyes of the now named Ghost. Had he expected you to do better in the hallway of a thousand corpses?

“Alright, princess, up you get.”

You whimpered and expected him to offer you his hand to get you to your feet again, but you were taken by surprise when he leaned over you and enveloped you in his huge arms. You weren’t sure what the hell he was doing at first, but all became clear as you were hoisted over his shoulder and sprawling down his back like a chef’s tea towel.

“What the hell, dude! Put me down,” you growled out, thumping your fists against his thick layer of tactical gear.

“Quiet down, sweetheart. It’s not like you’re much use in those heels anyway,” he growled out, tugging on one of your silvery strappy shoes for emphasis.

“You can’t just pick me up like a sack of fucking potatoes!” you protested, continuing to feebly fail to fight your way out of his grasp.

“Apparently I fuckin’ can,” he chuckled, rumbling in that horrible patronising voice of his. “Now…Settle. Down.”

And with that he started moving again, taking you past the tour of bodies that you’d folded at moments before, stepping through them like you might do through a botanical garden. The men were poked full of bullet holes and some even had knives jutting out of their skulls, but it didn’t seem to phase your rescuers. They were in their element. You were decidedly not.

You felt like you were going to be sick and wondered briefly what the terrifying man would say if you were to throw up on him. Would he drop you as revenge? You quivered in his arms as he moved through the halls, following his partner faithfully in the shadows, only seeing by the light of the moon in some sections of the house.

Not soon enough, after being thoroughly traumatised for two lifetimes, you emerged out of the house you were in. Only hearing two more men be taken out before you were free to breathe fresh air again. You cleared out the disgusting smell of coppery blood and gulped in huge breathfuls of clear night air.

Air. Moonlight. Stars. You were in a barren front garden in the middle of nowhere. You could see out for miles toward that inky black sky on the horizon.

It wasn’t like something out of a nightmare anymore, this was real. And it was a new kind of scary. It was night and it was cold and your shivering renewed again as the giant placed you back down on your feet and let you stand on your own.

Why was it so fucking cold?

“You see anyone else?” Ghost asked his partner, sticking faithfully by your side.

“Negative. Think we’re good to move out, LT,” Soap said, giving his surroundings one last careful scan.

“Thank fuckin’ god. Might even get back to the safehouse before mornin’ at this rate.”

Safehouse?

What?

“Um, what do you mean safehouse?” you prodded, feeling the cold start sinking into your clattering teeth.

“It’s a house that’s safe,” ghost ‘helpfully’ provided.

“I fucking know that,” you said through gritted teeth, “what I mean is, why the fuck are we going to a safehouse? I need to go home. I need to get to an airport or something or like- like you should be calling me a helicopter or something! Why would we go to some safehouse and stay here any longer?”

“Your dad ordered us to take you there once we had you secured,” Soap said, staring over at you with a calculating gaze. “Now are you going to come get in the car yourself or does Ghost need to pick you up again?”

Fuck you.

You didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of answering.

- 👑-

“He’s doing this to punish me isn’t he? It’s fucking typical you know! Only he would pull this shit, only my dad would find out I got kidnapped and send in two fucking random Englishmen and not even want to get me home-“

“Whoa! Watch it!” Soap shouted, interrupting you mid rant. “You can call me a lot of things, but don’t fuckin’ call me English, sweetheart.”

“English, Scottish, Irish- whatever the fuck you are! Point is he should be here! He shouldn’t be letting me stew in some random safe house with you two…two- two strangers,” you whined, throwing your arms up in the air. “For all he knows you could both be serial rapists!”

“We’re two strangers that just saved your life, princess,” Ghost grumbled from the front seat. “And if your dad is punishing you, then I think I’m beginning to see why.”

Your mouth dropped like a lead weight and you stared daggers into the mirror, catching Ghost’s cold eyes in the reflection. He was still wearing the mask.

You were driving on country road that stretched almost limitlessly into the horizon but for some reason he was still in disguise. Not that you cared to see his face! No, if anything, you hoped you’d be out of their company much sooner rather than later for him to reveal himself. Though, that wasn’t going to happen it seemed, so you resolved to make that everyone’s problem. Share the burden of being abandoned to Mexico.

“In case you haven’t realised; I’m not exactly accustomed to dead bodies and I’ve just come from the midnight showing of night of the living fucking dead here! I should be getting wheeled into a therapists office right now, not getting bundled up into another strange house, spending the night with Micheal Myers and groundskeeper fucking Willie,” you growled out, penetrating your gaze into Ghosts very soul, hoping he’d feel a shred of pity for you.

However, you weren’t doing a very good job of that. Instead of knocking sense into the big brute you only made him narrow his eyes at you. And to add even further insult, Soap choked back a laugh. Though, he composed himself quickly after casting a glance at the leuitenant and focused his eyes back on the road.

“You’ve got a funny way of sayin’ thank you, princess.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before ignoring you completely. No matter how much you moaned and groused and demanded to be taken back home, neither of the men would answer your cries. Typical men!

They left you to marinade in your own self pity - in a dish that was endlessly deep. Afterall, how could your father not appreciate how stressful your ordeal was? Sure, you both had your differences, but you’d have thought that even he would put his malice for you aside on account of an actual real life kidnapping!

After a few more miles of barren road you found yourselves coming to a small village, and started to slowly roll toward a modest concrete house on the outskirts.

It was two floors high and painted a sandy cream colour, with a small sheltered space to park the car and protect it from the elements. It seemed as if it might just fit you and Soap through its tiny door, the ceilings didn’t look that high. And it was the thought of Ghost being stuck in its old wooden frame that made you finally crack a small smile for the first time since you’d been taken.

“Any complaints about the exterior before we step in, sweetheart, or would you like to save your scathing words for when you’re inside?” Soap teased as he opened the car door for you.

“Very funny,” you huffed, smile disappearing you made sure to knock into the door as you stepped out. “Maybe you can go make fun of some terrorist victims next.”

Soap raised his brows, but didn’t bother to dignify you with a reply. He closed the door behind you instead and walked up to house and unlocked it for you, ushering you inside. Not that there was much to walk into.

There was some basic furniture, a ratty old couch, a table and chairs, a kitchen that hardly seemed stocked and an old orange cloth rug that looked like it had seen better days. The place smelt like old newspapers for some reason, and all in all, it didn’t inspire much hope in you for the rest of the house. And just as you caught yourself thinking that, you knew you’d already proved Soap right. You had many, many, many complaints.

“Well, I drove. So I bagsy first shower,” Soap announced, trailing off toward the creaky wooden stairs at the end of the hall. “Try not to cause world war three while I’m gone.”

You balked as you felt Ghost brush past you, successfully getting through the door. Who had Soap directed that last order at? Jeuss. You were the kidnapping victim and somehow you didn’t qualify for washing up first? What was this?

Chivalry was truly dead. Though, it wasn’t like they’d rode up in white horses when they’d come to get you, no they emerged through a cloud of bullets and snatched you out of the house like a drug bust they could trade in for on the sly.

“And what am I supposed to do now, hm?” You said, turning to the man now shedding his gear like a second skin onto the couch.

He didn’t give you a response though, instead he just finished off pulling the various packs and armaments off of himself until he was left standing in his uniform and mask. He looked a few pounds lighter, but he was still massive compared to you. The equipment didn’t bulk him out quite as much as you’d suspected.

“Is there a phone I can use?” You finally asked, exasperated with the silence.

“No.”

He grunted as he took a seat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick tattooed forearms. You couldn’t help but feel that that was some kind of threat. Though, your suspicions were eased as he shuffled around and crossed his arms around his head, lying down and closing his eyes.

“So, what? We’re just waiting to see when my dad magically shows up?” You needled.

“You asked If there was a phone that you could use,” he reminded, glancing over at you with slitted eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest princess, there’s rooms upstairs that you can whine in in peace.”

What!

You clenched your fists at your sides and growled out in frustration. How was it that you were stuck with one of the most insensitive men in the world right after you got kidnapped? In fact it felt like you were being held hostage all over again.

Well you weren’t going to sit there and take it this time!

Before you could think about how bad an idea it was, you marched straight over to the sofa and started digging through Ghosts things. You crouched and moved aside all the smaller pouches and sharp pointy things trying to find anything that might resemble a phone. Though you didn’t get much of an opportunity to look, you were swiftly dragged up to your feet by the masked man and knocked away from his stash.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, not sparing a single decibel from piercing your already abused ears.

“I need to use a phone! I need to call someone!” You screamed back. “I need to tell people I’m alright. My friends must be worried sick and you’re treating me worse than a prisoner! E-Even prisoners get their phone calls!”

You tried desperately to fight against his hold, and screeched and hit against him like a banshee. However the man was solid, his hands were digging into your skin like a bear trap. And even as you tried to scratch at him, it didn’t deter him any. He just held you against him, making you smell the sweat off of him, the bullets, the smoke, you breathed him in as he pinned your hands flush to your body and screamed out as it became too much.

“In case you’ve forgotten, princess, we’re hiding out in a safe house right now because you’ve just been bloody kidnapped! You can’t call anyone because we need to keep the line clear and wait for word from back home. This isn’t fucking vacation, sweetheart, this is a fucking mission,” Ghost roared.

You froze at his words. Your body felt like it had been hit by lightning and all of a sudden you could feel the storm in you shifting. All of the adrenaline was draining from you and just like that, you went from fighting like a rabid dog to blubbering like a baby. You broke down in his arms and felt the tears flowing freely back down your cheeks and fell back against him defeated.

“Oh Jesus,” Ghost muttered to himself.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten you’d been kidnapped. You were just dealing with it all in the only way you could. it just so happened, that when you fell back on instinct to get you through hard times it would result in you being, well as your dad put it, a massive pain in the ass. You were sure that Ghost would say the same.

You didn’t even try to compose yourself, you were too upset to think.

So, as Ghost came to that conclusion too, he decided to take matters into his own hands and picked you up again. Though, instead of putting you over his shoulder this time, he held you tightly against his chest and carried you off into one of the side rooms further into the house.

The floor protested with every step the big man took and even over your shaky sobs, you could hear the wood below groaning like a zombie. He checked in the first door, and then the second on the wall to the right, coming to a stop when he found what he was looking for. Through blurry eyes you could see that you were in a small bathroom. A messily tiled room that contained an old wooden cabinet, a sink and a toilet.

Ghost sat you down on the closed toilet seat and pulled some tissue from the roll, pressing it into your limp hands. You looked down at it like it was alien for a second, not sure what to do until you met Ghosts unwavering gaze. You needed to dry your eyes and get control of yourself.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he sighed, turning and reaching into the cabinet.

You gulped down a fat sob that had been threatening to come and sniffled softly instead. As much as you begrudged him, you knew Ghost’s logic was sound. You needed to get a hold of yourself and stop crying in front of him. He was hardly the sympathetic audience for it.

In fact it almost made you laugh when he turned back again and his skull mask caught the light. The hard plastic only served to remind you that he wasn’t going to sit and rub your back and make you feel better about it all. It was like he said, this was a mission for him, and his only concern was getting you out of Mexico alive.

“There you go, deep breaths,” he said in a hushed voice, putting his hand on your shoulder for a second.

The warm contact was comforting for a fleeting moment, his hand was gentle yet firm on you before he took it away. He’d fetched a cloth from the cabinet and stepped over to the sink, running it under the water and stepping back to your side. You’d expected him to hand it to you just like he had done with the toilet paper, but instead he took you by surprise and crouched at your level, stepping down from his massive height.

He smoothed the cloth over your cheeks and down your tear tracks, softly clearing up your sensitive skin. When he’d brought the cloth away and refolded it, you’d half expected it to be a muddied black from your makeup but there were only traces of grey. You’d cried most of your makeup off already. Then, after a few more goes at letting him clear up your face you almost jumped out of your skin when a piercing ring sounded out from the living room.

“Stay here,” the soldier softly ordered, handing you the stained cloth.

Ghost ducked out of the room, and you lamely held the cloth in your hand, listening out to what he was doing. He silenced the ring, presumably answering the phone he’d secreted away, and for a second all there was was fuzzy silence and the low ringing that hadn’t left your ears.

“Mhmm,” Ghost grunted, his rumble cutting clear through your tinnitus. “Yeah we’re clear I reckon. Didn’t pass anyone on the way in…no one awake, no curtains twitching…your daughter is-…mhmm…yeah…ok. Well just so you know, your daughter is…fine by the way.”

The gruff man said the last part quietly, and it was that that clued you into the fact your dad probably hung up before he could catch it. He didn’t care how you were, only cared that you hadn’t been killed by a foreign gang. That probably wouldn’t have done his image any favours, you thought to yourself. What man wasn’t able to protect his family? A high ranking general at that. All that mattered was that you were safe and he didn’t have a PR crisis on his hands. How you were doing was none of his concern.

You gulped thickly when Ghost reentered the room and did your best to put on a brave face. He didn’t say anything. He flicked his eyes over your grave expression and took the cloth back from your hands, wetting it under the tap again and handing it back to you.

“Those must be killing you,” he murmured, gesturing to your feet.

You startled when he spoke again, not used to having a conversation with someone who’s lips were hidden behind a skull facade. It was quite unnerving when his rasp broke through the cloth.

Eventually though you nodded, looking down at your feet and finally acknowledging all the blisters that had formed where the straps had dug into you. The shoes had been new, you’d been excited to wear them when you put them on earlier. Now, they were just another regret among many.

“Let’s get them off, hm?”

You nodded again, caught by surprise by the tender way that he was dealing with you out of nowhere. Perhaps out of pity after speaking to the General. You had no way of knowing if he was sympathetic to that type of thing. He was a soldier afterall. They dealt with much worse than emotional neglect and were often oblivious to the cold way your dad treated you. At least in your previous experience of them...

Ghost got to his knees and softly took one of your feet in his hands, turning it slowly this way and that a couple times, until he caught sight of the tiny buckle. He dealt with it like he was diffusing a bomb.

He carefully took the end of the strap in one hand and lifted the buckle with the other, gently letting the catch come loose. Then he slid the shoe from your foot and repeated the process with your other. You had to do a double take. Was this really the same man that had all but snapped at you like a vicious dog earlier?

“Thanks,” you whispered, still uselessly holding the cloth in your hands. “Did the General say when we could leave?”

Ghost frowned as you addressed your dad by his title, but quickly fixed his eyes into that familiar cold stare. He thought to himself for a moment before he answered you. He was probably scared you’d kick off again, you realised.

“He said he wouldn’t get here till evenin’ at least. Said he’d be bringing a chopper though.”

“Ok.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. You’d run out of words, and steam and any kind of fight and all the things that had kept you going before.

You were going to be stuck with the two strangers until almost the next day. There was nothing you could do about it, no one you could complain to, no one that cared. You might as well just accept it.

- 👑-

You’d ended up taking Ghost’s advice afterall. You’d finished cleaning up in the bathroom yourself and painfully trudged upstairs with your swollen feet, searching out the first bedroom you could find along the gloom of the lonely hallway. The lightbulb flickered and danced as you’d made your selection, chasing you into the room as it mimicked the gunfire you’d seen flashes of not hours ago.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, not like you thought it would.

You’d been convinced you’d be left sitting like a character in a movie. Painfully watching the walls in the cold silence and mourning the life you could have had if only you came from a loving home. However, as much as you loved dramatics, you weren’t fit to live up to the hurting girl stereotype.

You realised that when you woke up again and the sun was shining through your room like a big bright fuck you. You thought you were getting a moment's peace? Think again. You were going to be awake for the rest of your internment at the safehouse.

You sighed and scanned the room with your eyes, taking note of the peeling paint and sparse bits of furniture, confirming what you already knew. This room was just as shitty as all the rest. It wasn’t like there was any reason to maintain safehouses beyond being structurally sound and stocked with essentials, but it would’ve been nice to provide some comfort. At the very least they could’ve made it smell better, less musty, less like a place people came to rot.

“You’re awake.”

You yelped when you heard the voice break through the calm and looked over to the door, spotting the looming spectre that stood in your entryway. Ghost. Had he been watching over you the whole time you slept? You didn’t know whether to feel creeped out or grateful for the fact he was so concerned about your safety.

“I am,” you finally said.

“Good. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been watching over you after all. Maybe it had been Ghost’s footsteps that had woken you up. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination, he sounded worse than a herd of cows when he creaked across the floors.

You sat up when he walked into the room and caught a glance at the bowl in his hands. Something to eat was a good description of what he’d brought you. It looked like he’d heated some spaghettios. Not exactly the most appetising thing that you could think of, but given you hadn’t eaten since the morning before, you realised that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that you were often, if ever, a beggar. It was easier for your family to give you unlimited access to money and shut you up than it was for them to spend any time in your presence arguing that you should work for it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl off of Ghost after staring at it for a few seconds.

There was a spoon already shoved into the bowl, and when you picked it up, you found yourself wincing at the burning metal. Ouch. Ghost couldn’t have warned you they were hot? You glared up at him, but he was already retreating back out of the room, seemingly content that you had everything you needed.

But you didn’t feel like you had everything you needed at all.

You felt pathetic admitting it, but you didn’t want to be alone. Your ears were still ringing even hours after the firefight had ended and there was nothing to do in that bland room all alone. And now to top it all off it felt much too hot and sweaty. You felt like you might go mad. You softened your features again and called out to Ghost, praying against all odds that he’d indulge you.

“C-can you stay?”

Ghost paused and turned his head, his skeletal mask caught the golden glow of the sun. It didn't look right. He looked out of place in the sunlight. Though, you knew better than to voice that thought, he wasn’t going to stay if you insulted him again.

“If you really want me to,” he finally replied, tilting his head at you.

You nodded and watched as he looked around and found no alternative but to sit on the end of the double bed, and sighed as he plonked himself down. The bed rippled with his weight, and you almost let the bowl spill out of your hands, but thankfully caught it before it could drop.

That wouldn’t have been good, you thought. You’d already set yourself on eating it all when it had cooled. You couldn’t go without food any longer or your stomach would be gurgling like an alien. How embarassing.

“Did you manage to get some rest too?” you asked awkwardly, testing the spoon in your hands again.

“Some,” he answered, casting his eyes over you. “Soap traded places pretty quick.”

“What an asshole,” you snorted, lifting a spoonful of pasta to your lips and blowing on it.

“That arshole saved your life, princess,” Ghost reminded you, voice regaining its husky edge. “Show some respect.”

“I didn’t-I mean…I just figured you could’ve probably used the rest, I was just joking…Sorry,” you muttered, resigning yourself to eating instead of talking.

Ghost watched intently as you ate every last spoonful, but you ignored him, finding yourself greedily taking on more and more as you recognised your own hunger. You forgot about Ghost’s scolding for the moment as you felt your hunger pangs rattling from deep within you. Though, you felt a little better after finishing the bowl. You were going to eat so much when you got back home, you thought to yourself.

You set the bowl down on the floor and looked back at your rescuer, staring awkwardly at him for a few moments. The silence was making your skin crawl. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Do you ever take off that mask?” you blurted, feeling your cheeks heat up as you said it.

Ghosts eyes took on a glint as you’d said it and if you weren’t mistaken it felt like he was…smiling? You bit your lip and looked away from him, focusing instead on a particularly chipped patch of paint on the wall to his left side.

“Why? Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I just- I don’t get why you still have it on. The bad guys don’t know we’re here, right?”

“Maybe I’m just shy,” he teased, leaning back on the bed, his forearms rippling as they supported his weight.

You snorted at his answer, folding your arms across yourself. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was staring at you bare faced, messy haired and still in yesterday’s tiny dress. There was no way that he was shy, and it seemed unlikely that he was ugly under there. He walked and talked like a confident man, like a man that had never questioned himself. How exciting.

“Has Soap ever seen your face?” you asked, picking at the loose threads on the blanket you laid under.

“Why the sudden fascination?” he grumbled. “I thought I was a big scary serial rapist or somethin’?”

You winced as he threw your words from earlier back to you, it felt like you’d been burned with acid. You realised how stupid you sounded now. He’d held onto that.

“I didn’t say that you were one, I said that you could be one,” you corrected, sighing at your own stupidity. “I didn’t know who you both were, in fact I still don’t. I guess- I guess I just got freaked out, is all. Do other people not react a little crazy when you go on rescue missions?”

“Other people tend to be more gracious, at the very least,” he snorted.

You winced again.

You really were a princess sometimes. As much as the nickname had been annoying you all night, the soldier wasn’t wrong to call you it. They’d been good enough to put themselves in harms way and carry you through a sea of threats only for you to turn around and return fire, calling them names.

You put your head in your hands and groaned. You always slung your arrows at the wrong people. Always got prickly with people that tried to help. And they’d helped you more than anyone ever had.

“Thank you for saving me. I know it's a little late, but all the same…thanks for getting me out of there alive,” you murmured, catching a glance at his widened eyes. “And for- um, dealing with me earlier. That was nice of you cleaning me up like that.”

Ghost took a second to recover from you actually thanking him, his eyes staying open and shocked before returning to their usual shadowy state. They looked almost black even even in the sunlight. Though, you supposed it didn’t help they were hidden behind cloth and plastic.

“You’re welcome, darlin’” he rumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Darling?” you grinned, preening at the warmth in his tone. “Am I growing on you?”

“Like black mould,” he groused, “Can’t get rid of your questions, can I?”

“You did not just compare me to mould,” you growled, forgetting yourself - and who you were facing up against - and shooting toward him with a pillow in hand.

Ghost, cast his eyes from you to the pillow and turned, catching you before you could do anything stupid with it and held you against the wide expanse of his chest again. You were held solidly against him, packed in tight and before you could do anything else, you were disarmed and your pillow was plucked right out of your hands and thrown back to the head of the bed.

“What’d you think you were gonna do with that then, ay?” he growled, his mouth dangerously close to grazing your ear.

His breath was warm on your neck and it raised a trail of goosebumps across your flesh. You shivered in his arms, feeling his words send a shock through your body, and felt yourself go limp in his bulging arms. Why was he suddenly so much more enticing when he had you pinned down like this?

“Ay?” he asked again, releasing a low chuckle. “You think you can attack me, princess? Think you can do a bit of damage with those little arms?”

“I think I could do a lot of damage if you let me,” you breathed, scraping your lip under your teeth.

The lieutenant paused and held you very still for a moment, his arms stiffening over your body like he’d moulded to you. Oh no. Had he not liked that, you wondered. Had you just embarrassed yourself again?

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, voice not losing his amusement.

Oh good. So he wasn’t disgusted with you.

“Maybe…depends on if you liked it or not.”

“And if I liked it?”

“Then, yes, I was.”

You both sat in silence for a second, you stayed trapped in his arms, holding stock still while he mulled over what you’d said. What now? You didn’t have to wonder very long, he released you and turned your body so that you faced him again, balancing precariously on your hands and knees, capturing your face in his hands so that you were forced to look at him.

“You should be careful who you flirt with, princess. It’s like you said earlier, I’m a stranger in a mask, you have no idea who I am…No idea what I’m capable of,” he trailed, letting your own mind take over the implication he was getting at.

Not that you got the point that he was trying to make. If anything the whole thing was suddenly hotter to you. A rough fuck with the giant soldier that just rescued you from a gang of kidnappers and could pin you down like you were nothing? Hadn’t he sensed your issues from a mile off? Maybe he had, maybe that was why he said what he said.

“Maybe I wanna find out,” you whispered.

You shot forward and kissed where you supposed his lips must be and, luckily, guessed correctly. You could feel him tense up in surprise before yanking you off of him and pinning you under him, holding your body down against the bed with his sculpted body, his legs caging yours in and his hands holding your wrists like manacles.

“Give me one reason you want to, other than spiting your father,” he purred, eyes glowing with amusement and curiosity.

So he did know your game.

“You have a sexy voice,” you tried, fluttering your lashes in a way that you hoped would work on him.

“Fuckin’ americans,” he grunted, laughing lowly to himself. “I want somethin’ better than that.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to go fishing for compliments,” you snarked.

With that little comment , you were rolled over quicker than you could comprehend and before you could turn to see what he was doing he slapped you on the ass. It was solid, no nonsense. Enough to sting even though he’d done it through the fabric of your little dress. He wouldn't have to do much to expose you and make it hurt more. He’d just have to flip up the fabric.

“Answer my question,” he growled, still holding one of your hands captive.

“Because I want you to teach me a lesson…because you’re the first person in a long time that’s had me minding my manners,” you sighed, using your free hand to give your body leverage enough to rut against the soldier's bulging crotch.

“Fuck me,” Ghost grunted, voice losing its sharpness as you rutted against him.

“That worked?” you grinned, half shocked that it clearly convinced him.

“You could have any cunt from England, princess, and plenty of em’ would sound like me. You think that they could make you beg like I can?” he questioned.

You were tempted to give him a sassy reply, but already knowing you too well, he hit you with a couple more spanks, this time on your bare ass and finally slipped your skirt up so that he could admire the flesh he was abusing. You gasped as he ran his hands over your cheeks and whimpered when he ran a finger over your slit. You practically feel his eyes glowing like laser sights as he connected with your glistening flesh and paused so that he could dip his finger into you and confirm his suspicions.

“Please,” you whined, praying that he’d start moving it, praying for friction.

“Looks like I’ve got my answer,” he chuckled, removing his soaked finger and slapping your ass noncommittally. “Please what, hm?”

“Please,” you cried out, feeling awfully empty as he’d withdrawn. “Please, I want your fingers. Want you to finger me please.”

“Aw, so cute when you’re all needy, princess. Alright. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I did ask nicely!” you whimpered, feeling your body burning with desire for him.

It felt like he was all you could think of now. The kidnappers and the whole resentment thing you had going for your family was a distant memory and all that remained was Ghost. All that remained was burning lust and a need to have him inside of you, possessing you wholly and taking you for his own.

“You’re such a little brat, princess. I just told you that you could have what you wanted and you just had to go spoil it for yourself,” Ghost said, his voice forging into a chilling point. “Looks like you need to be taught better manners.”

You groaned at his words, but you didn’t get much of a chance to work out what they meant. Instead, his hand rained down hard on your already stinging flesh and he spanked you like it was his next mission. You cried out as the smacks began to burn more and more and wriggled in his grasp, fruitlessly struggling against him and fighting his expert hands to no avail.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you chanted, giving him what you thought he wanted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, accentuating each word with a slap.

They were softer than the ones he’d been giving before at least. Like caresses against your screaming skin, fiery with his rough treatment.

“Sorry…for not asking nicely,” you said quietly, hoping to god he’d just give you what you wanted.

“Sorry, sir,” he grunted, running his hands over your hot skin.

“Sorry, sir,” you repeated quickly, sighing as his gentle touch soothed your prickling burns.

“That’s better.”

You hummed as his nails scratched down your cheeks and settled into the bed, feeling like the stiff blankets were transformed into egyptian cotton as your head grew fuzzy. His hands really were quite skilled, especially since he was so easily able to have you howling one second and then had you curling up like a cat the next.

“You wanna do this for the rest of the day or you wanna try asking for what you wanted again?” Ghost asked, his voice softening as he watched you relax.

“Mmm, would rather have your fingers inside me please, sir,” you moaned, smiling contentedly to yourself.

“That’s better…good girl.”

Your masked soldier grabbed your hips in his hands, making you feel tiny as he yanked you up like you were nothing. Yanked you into a half kneeling position as you kept your head pasted onto the bed, not having the strength to bring it up. Then finally, just as you were about to start begging again, spat on his hand and pierced his finger back inside you.

You groaned at the intrusion and whined as he slowly pumped it in and out, getting you all worked up and turning you into a moaning mess. You were burning for more, your belly tightening as he worked his digit in and out and circled your clit with his other hand like it was an art. You whined and writhed and clutched at the sheets, crying out as he added another finger and increased his pace. You could feel the rumble that caught in his throat reverberate through your chest. ‘

“So pretty. Your cunt’s so wet and you’re clenching on me so hard. What would happen if I shoved my cock in there? Would you cum right away, princess?” he purred.

You whined out at that and felt your need light up anew, could feel it vibrate around your skull and through your gums. Yes. Stick your cock in me. That’s all you wanted, you wanted the big man on top of you, pinning you down and boxing you in like an animal, fucking into you like you were his own personal fleshlight. Fuck.

“Ohmygod, please fuck me, Ghost!” you cried out, “Please, oh my god please, sir! Please fuck me.”

Ghost chuckled and slowed his pace, bringing his fingers to a near stop. It was like hell, the tingles dampening throughout your body, your high being torn from you. You growled out and tried to claw your way up, tried to face him and see the stupid glint that would no doubt be in his eyes, but before you could he shoved you back down and tapped your ass again.

“We don’t have condoms here, princess. It’s not exactly standard protocol,” he teased. “Doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“I don’t care! I’m on birth control and I get checked out by the doctor every month,” you whined, fighting against any argument he could make against giving you his cock.

“Well…I suppose that changes things,” he grunted.

Thank fucking god! You were sure you were going to d-

“Fuck!”

Your strangled cry pierced the room as he replaced his fingers and thrusted into you, shattering you inch by inch with his massive cock. It seemed endless, it was torturous in all the right ways, the burn that licked through your body like a forest fire. He was huge, not that you doubted that of course.

“That what you wanted, hm? That feel good, princess?” Ghost said, coming to a stop as he filled you completely. “Tell me, how does that feel? I wanna know if anyone else has been able to make you as fuckin’ speechless as this.”

You whined out, scratching at the bed underneath you like a trapped animal and breathed in thickly, wondering if your lungs would ever recover from the events of the last few hours. Wondering how to answer Ghost. How did it feel? Did anyone else compare to him? What stupid fucking questions.

Nothing compared.

“It feels so fucking good, feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you gasped, rocking yourself against him. “Need you to move, need to feel you ruin me!”

“Oh yeah? You need me to move? What a slutty girl telling me such filthy things,” he growled, reaching around and grabbing your neck, not quite enough to choke but enough to let you know he was in control. “Tell me, slutty girl, who’s in charge?”

“You, sir!”

“Who gets to wreck this pussy?” he asked, slowly begining to fuck you, rocking himself slowly in and out of you at an agonising pace.

“You, sir!”

“Are you my little whore?” He asked again, building up speed a little, catching you in all the right places and turning your head to mush.

“Yes sir,” you cried out, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge.

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

You screamed as he upped his pace out of no where and fucked you like it was his job. Your eyes lost focus and your teeth gnashed together and suddenly it was a fight to stay upright as he pounded in and out of you and held your neck tightly in his firm grasp. It wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, this was a new level of fucking you’d never experienced.

“Fuck!” you cried out again. “Gonna- gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Good, cum for me. Clench on my cock, little slut.”

You moaned out and gripped the sheets underneath you tighter, feeling your whole body shaking as his cock forced you off balnce. Just a few more thrusts and-

It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a muffled scream as Ghost clamped his hand over your mouth and gasped wordlessly as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

He kept going like that, absolutely relentless, skewering you and turning you to mush below him, making you feel like dirt at his knees. You were nothing, you weren't any kind of princess, you were just his toy. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he could make you feel like that, but still make you feel so fucking precious as he continued to caress your skin and growl affirmations every now and then.

So fucking pretty.

Mine, princess, you’re mine.

Feel so fucking good, you’re so fucking good.

You cried out as he put his hand around your throat again and put on some pressure, making you struggle a little to pull in air, but not by much. It felt exquisite. The tremors of your last orgasm were still bolting through you and now another one was building. You felt so good, felt so impossibly warm as you struggled beneath him. Fuck, you never wanted this to end. But you knew you could hardly take much more.

“You gonna cum for me again? Gonna give me another one before I finish? C’mon, I know you have another one in you, princess.”

You whined and felt your thighs shaking like they were going to collapse and suddenly his fingers closed tighter round the sides of your throat. You gasped loudly a couple times, trying to pant out that you were close, but the sound couldn’t quite form in your mouth. Then, in no time at all it was hitting you again, that high, that euphoria. Another orgasm.

“Fuck!” Ghost growled out.

You clenching around him had sent him over the edge and all too soon, you were both collapsing into the sheets like falling scaffolding. You clattered down against him and he pulled you close. He bucked his hips a couple times as he finished inside you, grunting a little with the increased sensitivity he felt as you shifted against him. It was divine.

You were both wrecked.

Neither of you said a word as you laid there, both keeping your eyes closed and your mouths open as you panted into the arid empty air. There was nothing to say. You just had to soak in the moment and retreat into each other's bodies, accepting the burning, unbearable heat you were both giving off and enveloping each other in it.

Fuck.

“Is that a better way of saying thank you, sir?” you finally moaned, grinning to yourself as you proved yourself right.

That was one way to teach you some respect alright.

#ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod fanfiction

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months

Note

Wait imagine our girl and Eris getting closer and something happens that he has to put on his Heir of the Autumn Court face and not be mean, but maybe distant and cold to her? And she’s like nah I’ve seen this movie before and they have a big angsty moment alone about it and the next time he has to have that face, he includes her with him?

I am in love with your series, it’s all I think about 😭

Loved this request so much that I had to write it ASAP - the first time Y/N encountered Eris at a cross-court function after their initial hook up. A little bit different from your request but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless.

Bad Idea, Right? Prequel

Headcanon

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

The second meeting between reader and Eris.

Part 7 - Part 7.5 - Part 8

Warnings: Language, Smut, MDNI, not proofread

Y/N

- She felt his presence before she saw him. His scent invading her nostrils from across the throne room.

-He was walking her way. His face drawn tight, eyes intense yet unreadable. His power rolled off of him. Oh, he was on full display tonight. The fiery heir of Autumn who’d slain his own father.

- Her heart raced as he grew closer. The tension between them palpable. Could anyone else sense it? She should shy away, look somewhere else but her eyes were fixated on only him. She was the magnet to his metal.

-Was he going to say something to her? Take her hand and whisk her into a dance? What were his intentions in this show of pomp and circumstance?

-She couldn’t bare the thought of her family seeing them together. It would be so complicated but even more so, she couldn’t flee. Damn them all if he pulled her into his orbit, who was she to refuse?

- He was steps away. Her heart beat in her throat. Her shadows begging to pull him closer

-Two more steps.

- The High Lord’s cold expression only turned cruel, calculating, as his nose turned up, lip curling. A sneer in her direction before his deep, gravely tone spat. “Little Shadowsinger.” as if she were nothing more than dirt on his shoe.

- She kept her expression flat. She knew that mask. She’d seen variants of it countless times in the court of nightmares with her own family. Her heart cracked slightly though she’d never let him see.

-She was stupid to think that he was different. She’d never allow herself to be so vulnerable toward him again.

——————

Eris

- He felt her heartbeat racing through the bond as he neared her

- He shouldn’t have walked her way but he couldn’t resist. He needed to be near her if only for a moment.

-Fuck, what was he doing? He needed to keep his distance.

-It was too late, he couldn’t change direction now. It would be too obvious to the plethora of attendees with their eyes fixated on him.

-He couldn’t put her at risk like that. Couldn’t let anyone sus out the way his heart longed for her. The way that bond pulled her near.

-And her, she was so young. Had so much to experience. It killed him, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his embrace, kiss her softly and whisper to her that she was his. HIS. His mate.

-The primal desire urging him to spend weeks holed up with her, taking her on every surface in his castle. Seat her on his throne as he took to his knees between her soft, supple thighs.

-Wanted to whisper how long he’d waited for her. How he could care for her in ways she’d never dreamt of. Would give her the life he never thought possible until his father had been taken out of the picture.

-No, he couldn’t. Not yet.

-He’d waited this long. He could wait longer.

-It gutted him to sneer at her but he couldn’t risk her being targeted. Couldn’t risk someone sensing this one-sided bond and using her against him. Someone harming her.

——————

Y/N

-She was humiliated. She decided then and there that she would never be at his mercy again.

-He was just another arrogant High Lord, no different than any other nobility.

-She spent the rest of the evening in her shadows. There was no enjoying this function, just another odious show of power between courts.

-As the night wound down and all the noise became too much, she shrouded herself in shadow, exploring the silent corridors of the keep.

-Warm hands grabbed her. How he sensed her, she had no clue.

- “Get the fuck off of me, Eris”

- “Little shadowsinger, are you not happy to see me?”

- “Your whereabouts are of no concern to me.”

- “Are you certain? Your sweet scent and that pretty fluttering pulse told me otherwise”

- “Fuck you.”

- “My pleasure.” He crooned. “Crashing his lips into hers”

- Fuck, he felt so good. So good pushing her into an empty study. So fucking good groaning underneath her as she bounced on his thick cock. Filling her, stretching her in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

-She felt powerful as he wholly submitted to her. Her shadows binding him. Gagging him so that pretty mouth wouldn’t spew anymore ugly words.

-She would never let herself feel powerless against him again.

-No, he was hers to take when and how she pleased.

-And she knew he’d love every fucking second of it.

——————

Eris

-She was so fucking beautiful taking her pleasure from him.

-So fucking beautiful as her face contorted into that of ecstasy, only taking what she wanted. Those full, mouth-watering breasts bouncing as she rode him into oblivion.

-Her lovely moans filled the room, a symphony just for him. The song of his Shadowsinger.

-He would give her anything. Anything at all that she wanted to take from him.

-And someday, someday decades or centuries from now, she’d wear that mask of power with him. The mask of his High Lady. The true powerhouse of his court.

-Until then, he’d take whatever she’d offer him and ask for nothing more.

——————————————————-

Tags: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams

Sorry for tagging you all in two posts in one day. Some days the creative juices flow a little too strongly.

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lingering-42-long · 3 months

Text

The Last Goodbye

When they are Kia

Cod characters x f! reader

Inspired by MW3 and the tragic events that occurred this will be a three-part series if I do not get writers block lol.

So sorry for the not posting as much! It’s been a really crazy month and a lot of things had happened and caused me to have a bit of a depressive episode so thank you all for being super patient!

Warnings: mentions of death

John Price

You saw it on the news first before you got the visit. Your breath hitched when you saw the news of the air strike that had hit the base where your husband of 12 years was stationed at everything was decimated. And you couldn’t call or check to make sure that he was all right as he would not have his personal cell phone with him. It wasn’t until two days after the attack did two uniformed military officers showed up at your door holding prices old hat and SAS badge and dog tags. How they got them so quickly, you weren’t sure, but the news came like a sudden wave of cold water. “ we are so sorry for your loss.” One of the officers told you. The body would be arriving shortly within a week or so for proper burial you two had purchased side-by-side grave plots. And the will was already drawn up well before all of this had happened. John was a very precise man and always make sure to think 12 steps ahead. He knew his job was rough and he knew that at any moment he could drop dead. He made sure that his life insurance would be going to you, which was some relief sense the army didn’t pay much.

How to tell your daughter, that her father was not going to be coming back. What is the worst thing you could ever do to her young heart. She was only eight years old. She adored her father practically worship the ground. He walked on. She was always his little girl, and now the war stripped her of him. Stripped you of him..

When she came home from school, you had to sit her down. You held her hands, and with tears, you told the heartbreaking news. The young girl did not understand at first on why her father wasn’t coming back, and once again, you explained that he had died in action, and he would never be able to come home you’re a little girl started to cry, and when he tried to comfort her, she bolted from your arms and ran to her room, slamming the door, and she could hear her wails. You yourself cried yourself to sleep for the first few weeks all the way up until the funeral your friends and family members gathered around you doing everything that they could to comfort you and your daughter people were calling in every single day talking with you for hours on end, while other people stopped by to bring you food.

Every day it felt like a horrifying nightmare. The one that reoccurs every single time slightly more horrifying than the last. As you were going through your stuff and trying to decide what if his you wanted to keep and what of his you wanted to donate you noticed on your phone you had gotten an email from Kate Lasswell. She had sent a video to you actually several saying in the email that he wanted you to have this and gave her explicit instructions in case if he was to ever die.

Pressing the play button, you watched as his face appeared in the camera as he sat down and smiled at you. The way, his eyes twinkled and the crows feet around them creased. “ hello dove” he started at first and you had to pause the video because you were overwhelmed with the emotions. When you stabilized yourself again, you continued. “ I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you and I know that if you’re seeing this, it means that I have passed….. mission was going to be botched no matter what I just didn’t want to tell you the statistics at first…” he paused himself, as he seem to be collecting his words in his own voice was shaking “ I really wish I could come back home to you. I told you that this would be the last mission that I would do before retiring… I promise to take you out on that date that you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant.” he paused again, closing his eyes, and releasing out a large sigh.

“ I’m sorry I never got to take you…. I had so many plans to do with you and Alice… it doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get a chance to do that” once again, you had a pause the video so that you could take a minute to cry. The plans that you had with each other right now by the wayside. You unpause did it again, and continued on listening. “ I know right now you’re depressed.” he stated, folding folding his hands, and leaning on the desk in a slightly business fashion way. “ in the email that Kate sent you there is several groups that you can join that are for the spouses of the deceased militant partner. Please join one as well as make sure our daughter also goes to one for kids. She’s going to need that support… you both are.” he smiled again, but it was a Sad smile. “ I also made sure to have a college fund started for her. You don’t have to worry about it until she’s ready. There should be plenty of money for her to attend all the way up until graduate year as long as she goes to a decent university. Make sure it’s only used for that if she chooses not to go to university or to go to a less expensive one, you can use the money to buy her a car or whatever she needs to get her life started…. I’m sorry this had all come to this…. As you know I have set aside a life insurance, and the beneficiary goes to you. I also saved up a lot of my savings as well. Feel free to use it as necessary.” he knew that you were going to be smart with the money. “ He paused and looked at you “you are my beloved…. I’m so sorry my dove that you have to face this alone. Please take care of yourself. Find a husband that loves you like I did and a good father figure for our daughter.” This made him tear up. “I will wait for you in heaven and I will watch over you both. You mean so much love. No one or nothing can separate this love. The email that is sent to you also has several videos for Alice. For her birthdays, graduation, moving out to university, marriage and their child. I made sure to make a video for all of that… I also left many for you. Please don’t hesitate to just let me listen to you… I love you.”

The video ended and you sat in the chair, Thinking things though. He set life up for you and your daughter. He was still looking after both of you. You cried for a bit before getting up and knocking on your daughters door. Your little girl opened up with tears on her face. “Hey baby… daddy sent you something.” She sniffed as you picked her up and took her to your old husband’s office. After sitting down with her in his old chair, you turned on the next video. “Hey Angel!” John’s face lit up when the camera started you could see he had been crying. “Angel, im not coming home, it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s because I got called up to heaven. I want you to do something for me my sweet, I want you to watch over momma ok? She is going to need you and you are going to need her. He glanced up as if looking at you then looked back down at his daughter. “You are such a special little girl. I love you so much. Momma has the other videos for you to watch when you grow up. I’m so so sorry to leave you like this. I did not

I did not want to go. I know you were looking forward to see me and so was I… you are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He stated singing the song he sang when she was down or sad. “You make me happy, when sky’s are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away…. I love you my angel.” The video ended. Your daughter looked at you. “What now?” She asked. “Well… now we do what daddy said… we do our best to move on, but not to forget him. We will be OK.” You held her as you too watched the sunset fade beneath the horizon, a beautiful white dove landed on he window, cooed and looked at you before flying off into the golden rays of the pink sky.

Simon Riley

You were cleaning in the kitchen when you heard a knock at the door. Putting the sponge back in the soapy hot water. You wiped your hands and made your way to the door. Two military officers took at the door, Solum faces as they greeted you. “Hello can I help you?” You asked

“Mrs (y/n) Riley?” One of them asked.

“Yes that is me.” You looked at them worried.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Simon Riley was killed in action.” The officer said gravely as he handed you a box of his things.

You took the box with tears in your eyes. The men told you that his body was found and would be returning soon. You thanked them and closed the door as you held the box tightly in your arms and sunk to the floor sobbing. Your sweet Simon. He was gone, never to come home to you and your son. You knew it was a dangerous job, but it never really hit you till now. Your husband, the man that always let you take off his mask, the man that would cuddle with you at night and rub your back after a long day, the father of your 3 month old son who he would stay up late to let you sleep. He was gone, ripped apart from you. How were you going to tell your son about his father, the man who loved his son from the moment he was born. You cried on the cold floor till you fell asleep, still holding onto the box. You woke up to the sound of your son crying in his room. Getting up, you walked and a dead sonter to his room. Tomas your son named after your husbands brother, was crying in his cradle. Carfully you picked him up and held him close. He looked so much like his daddy, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin. “Shhhhh my love” you rocked your son with tears in your eyes. “Daddy isn’t coming back.” You stated as a hiccup got you. “He loved you so much…. He loved me.” You knew your son wouldn’t remember this but it was still so sad to hold your little boy and know he would never have a father and son bonding.

You sobbed as you held onto him. Tomas sensing his mothers destress, he quieted down and cooed. After a while you fed him and put him down to bed once more. You opened the box after sitting down with a hot cup of tea, ready to take on what you needed to. With a sniffle, you opened the lid to reveal his skull mask, the dog tags that he wore, his SAS badge, and a few other things. “Oh Simon” new murmured as you carefully picked up the mask and set the box down as he traced over the lines to his skeletal features on his balaclava. It smelled like him. That rich, earthy smell, that he always seems to have with a hint of gunpowder and bourbon. It was a lingering sent, but it was a good one at that. You held the mass close as you leaned back on the couch and close your eyes. You already missed him more than you did before maybe it was because you knew that you would never see him again, to have him be in the house and be present with you and your son. You would go on with your life fine you are a tough woman, one of the many reasons to why Simon married you, but it was your son that you were worried about. You wanted your son to have a father figure. A dad that he would learn to grow up and love. Simon never had that sort of dad, and had always wanted to be that way for his own children.

Now Simon was never going to live out his dream, and Thomas, your son, was never going to have that sort of special bond. I thought made you incredibly sad once more but no tears fell, your eyes were all dried from the previous crying. The weeks came and the funeral happened, your husband looked peaceful in his casket. You wanted some alone time with him first and held his stiff, cold hand. “ Thomas will miss you… I will miss you. You were my rock and shield. It’s going to be hard without you Si… I will always love you and miss you.” The funeral took place and it was a sad time. The team of 141, your family and friends helped with whatever you needed. Now, you were cleaning out things from your late husband. As you were cleaning out his bedside table drawer, you saw a note, folded up neatly. Curious, you unfolded the lined paper and read the words on the paper.

“My dear (y/n), Birdie if you are digging in my drawer then that means I have passed, the mission was botched… I’m sorry… I know Thomas is in good hands with you. Please don’t worry about money. My account will be given to you. As I am writing this, it’s late, you’re sleeping next to me. It’s the night before we leave… I am looking at you for the last time, taking in all your beautiful details. Your face is so soft in sleep, you look so angelic. I am going to miss you… I know you will miss me too… I’m sorry I haven’t said ‘I love you’ that much. I hope you know I cherished and deeply loved you. I still do. I know you are a strong woman, that is what drew me to you. I know you will move on. If you wish, find someone who can love you and our son just as much as I loved you. I will be waiting for you when you come. I will always be watching out for you. Please don’t let our son forget me. I want him to know how much I loved him and you. I love you my Birdie, my beautiful wife. ~Simon.”

You held onto the paper and cried. This was going to be ruff. You were going to be ok. A sense of comfort filled your mind and warmth flooded your body. “I love you my Simon” you smiled and the familiar sent of him wafted and you felt his warmth envelop you.

Gaz

when the news reached you, it hurt like 1000 tiny little daggers. You had just gotten married to Gaz, your Relationship was just beginning. The two of you had been high school sweethearts. Times had gotten tough for both of you and you broke off your relationship before time being until you rekindled it once again, realizing that he was the only person for you. You had only gotten married a few months prior and just had your honeymoon before he was shipped off. Four months he was gone. And he was supposed to come back in two, however, the letter that you received told a different story. He would never be coming home. His body was blown up so badly that they couldn’t find all the pieces to him. We would do everything that they could to get the majority of him back home so that there could be some proper burial. This broke your heart. He would never get to share the life with you that you too so desperately dreamed about, a small home, somewhere on the suburbs of London with a dog, and maybe a child somewhere down the line. That was your plan at least but now things have changed, and now your beloved was gone.

It had been a few weeks since the death, and the burial of what was left at him. You had moved back in with your parents for the time being. As you were cleaning up your room, doing the best to get over your grieving you noticed a note on your bed they have been delivered by your mother earlier. Carefully you walked up to the letter and looked at it. It was addressed to you by Gaz. A sense of panic swelled in your chest. Did he really survive? Or was this some cool trick that somebody was playing? Quickly opened the envelope, and you looked at the letter the date showing that it was a month ago that he had sent this; before his death. With shaky hands, you begin to read the chicken, scratch lettering, tracing over every word, and taking to heart as if it was the gospel.

“Hey Love!

Things are crazy right now! We’re going to be going into a city not too far from here. I’ll make sure to pick up some stuff for you. I know you’ve been wanting to decorate the house for a while and I’m so excited to see what sort of projects you’ve been working on? How’s the art piece coming? I remember you telling me that you wanted to start up painting again. We always had such a pretty drawings. I have no doubt that they’re not going to be beautiful. I hope you hang them on the wall for us to see. I miss you. A part of me wishes that you were here at least the part that isn’t the most violent. Unfortunately, we’re not in the best area we are being attacked left and right. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll be home soon! I promise I’ll fix the leaky faucet. I know it’s been driving you crazy. I I sent a letter to my folks, but could you tell them that I miss them as well? I want them to know how much I miss them, but I think I miss you the most. When I get back can we get a dog? Also, can we have like a full day of playing video games just with you and me? I know I sound like I’m rambling, but it’s just what’s on my mind recently. Late night cuddles with you while playing Mario kart. It just sounds so relaxing right now. I’m really tired. Well sweetheart, I better get to bed. I love you and I hope that you have an amazing day tomorrow and the next and the next after that.

Your Husband,

Gaz”

Hugging the letter, you cried your eyes out. Tears streaming down your face as you laid on the bed, holding onto the last remnant of what your husband left you. It sounded as if he was somewhere in a safer, better place. You hoped that he died quickly that he didn’t suffer and his last thoughts were good thoughts. A breeze drifted into the room from your open window and a warm bit of sunshine hit your cheek as the breeze drifted passed it felt like a stroke on your soft face. He was there sitting beside you, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel his presence. He was safe and he was watching over you.

Johnny McTavish

The news has gotten to you quickly. It was actually delivered by Price himself. You couldn’t believe it. Your Scottish highland your man was no longer going to come home to you. He was shot through the head. Taking a bullet to save a life. Your young son, John, named after his father, was going to be home from school soon the devastating news hurt you more than anything else out there. How are you going to tell your six-year-old son that he was not gonna have his daddy near anymore? Who was going to play football with him in the yard? Who is going to read bedtime stories? Who is going to play in the rain with him? Your son needed his father that boy looked up to his dad, like he was the sun, its self. The news hurt you hard calling his parents and his family was going to be hard as well if they had an already heard the news. He was close with everybody and his family and he had quite a large family.

The upcoming days to the Memorial as you wish to have been cremated, were hard and brutal. Everybody that you knew, and your friends and his family all gave their condolences to you and to each other he was loved and well liked by everyone your son took it hard he didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t coming home and cried and cried and cried it was like that for almost a whole week, he was doing so bad that you had to pull him out of school for the time being because he was unable to function properly. You did everything you could you hold him tight in your arms until he cried himself to sleep at night in which you also cried your own silent tears. You would go walk on the open, Highlands that overlooked the beautiful scenery where your husband, his father’s ashes, cast out upon the open landscape. A small memorial was placed there in memory. You would have picnics out there are frequently, simply listening to the birds call from high above and feel the warm sun cast It’s beautiful rays. They felt cold and dull to you, but you did your best to hold out for your son.

Cleaning out the closet with all of his stuff. What is your next task as you were taking some of his old stuff down you noticed a hard drive they had fallen out of one of his pockets with your name on it. Curious, you took the hard drive and you plugged it into your laptop. It open the file which had a video and it. You clicked play.

The video with your husband sitting on the couch in your living room, smiling at you “Hello my bonne Lass. if yer seeing this then ye know what happened and I don’t think I need ta say anymore abou tha’. I am so sorry that I cannot be with Yer. I love ye so much. I love our son John so much. Please remind hem’ every day how much I love him. Please play football with hem as much as ye can. Please read to hem every night fer me. I know it’s a lot ta ask with what’s going on but I think it might be good fer both of ya ta share tha’ quality time. I’m gonna miss ye both, but I’m always going te be with yer. I’m always going to be watching over mo little family. Don’t worry Lass, life insurance should cover a huge portion of everything. Hopefully it can help provide some security fer you and fer John. I also have tha’ university fund ye wanted me ta set up fer him. Let the money grow and add te it. If ye want by the time he turns 18 he can open that account. The files are actually in my cabinet on the right side of the desk. It has all the important paperwork and documentaries yer gonna need. I really wish I was there with ya Lass. I’m going to miss holding you at night and whispering I love yous.” His beautiful eyes stared right back at you with his stupid little mohawk and broad shoulders facing the camera. “ I know you got this, please don’t ferget about me, but I do want you moving on. Find a man that makes yer heart is happy to be with as it was with meh. I know it’s a lot ta ask for, and I’m not expecting ye ta get married right this instant… I want ta see ye happy I want to see you taken care of. I love ye, my princess.” he reached over to turn off the device that he was using, and the video ended abruptly. A new wave of tears hit your face as you laid your head on the desk and cried for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days. Your son came in the room and gently touched your shoulder. “It’s OK mama! Daddy’s going to be with us. He’s just going to be invisible.” he was quoting some thing that you had told him. When you had to break the news to John, you had told him that the angels up in heaven needed his daddy to help fight the battle up there because he was so good at his job. One day he would be able to meet his daddy up there as well. Now John had taken this to heart and there’s now quoting this in hopes to make you feel better. You carefully picked up your son and held him close to you. “ you know you’re the best against your father had ever giving me? When you were born, he had tears in his eyes and he was hugging you and kissing all over your face and just absolutely doting on you 24 seven. He told me how proud he was of you. He told me how proud he was of me. Those were good times.” Your son gently hold you tight in his own little arms. “ it’s OK mama will make it out together.” You could almost feel a kiss on your forehead as if…. As if your husband was leaning over to comfort you.

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