#Teaching Missy To Be Good

[angelltheninth]

Cole Cassidy Gives You a Lesson at the Shooting Range

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public sex, implied age-gap, clit stimulation

A/N: I haven't touched Overwatch in a long ass time but Cole is still one of my mains.

"You can't have your stance shaky like that darlin'." Cole rasped into your ear, his thrusts making your arms not just your hips shake. "What did I teach you just a little while ago? You have to have perfect aim no matter the situation. Not even a cock can be a distraction."

"Then let me suck you off and see how well you're gonna shoot." Nevermind that you tried that already, several times where he was thrusting his cock in your mouth, fucking his cum down your throat every time a bullet hit it's target. It was infuriating when he asked you if you thought he was shooting blanks. "Ah! Damn it, Cole, sto-op! I need to focus." Instead of listening to you he doubled his efforts, his metal fingers finding your clit, his movement a little restricted by your underwear.

When he came up behind you to observe your aim you suspected that the cowboy had something planned, usually he watched from afar, smoking on his cigar and offering comments.

"I need to get up close and personal. Otherwise you're never gonna learn anythin'." He kept his other hand on yours, showing you where to fire, "Shoot... now!" His cock buried itself deep into your wet pussyhole, your aim slipping, the bullet grazing the target. "Yup. Someone needs a lot more lessons. Good thing I'm here. With my help you'll be an expert shot in no time, little missy. I'm not gonna be in this town forever, I gotta make sure a pretty thing such as yourself can protect herself. I know you're the mayor's daughter and all but a little extra protection can't hurt."

"Says the man who said he hates the feel of condoms on his dick." There was a time when you would have slapped Cole for the way he talked to you, he was a stranger then, just another man passing through and surprisingly making a detour into your bed several times.

"I might live a rough lifestyle but I'm always clean, darlin', especially when I got a pretty lady like you to keep myself busy with." He started moving again, his cock pulsing, a feeling you knew well by now, "Aren't you gonna shoot?"

You placed the gun onto the table and bent over the smooth surface, rocking your body against his, "No. But you'll be soon, won't you Cole?"

"If you keep using that cunt like that I sure will, sweetheart." Looks like you would need to take care of him first if you had any real shot of learning how to handle a gun properly. A gun lesson and a quick, hard fuck, Cole Cassidy sure turned out be a real blessing for you in the long run.

#cole cassidy x reader #overwatch x reader #cole cassidy x you #overwatch x you #cole cassidy headcanons #cole cassidy imagines #overwatch smut #cole cassidy smut #smut drabble #smutember 2023 #x female reader

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Thinking a lot about GirlDaddy Daryl… like nobody can convince me that he wouldn’t be absolutely soft for his daughter

When she’s a baby his heart is just so full, the first months after having her he just cried everytime he held her. He’d think about how he has a family of his own to protect, and how he’s gonna work his ass off to be a worthy father unlike his own.

The toddler stage catches him way off guard. He now has a walking talking mini female version of him tailing along behind his every step. She follows him EVERYWHERE its absolutely adorable. He spends every day playing questionnaire.

“Daddy wha’s tha?”

“Don’ touch tha’ ya could get hurt”

Yes she would definitely pick up his accent, and yes it is the cutest thing. She lives up her nickname Lil Dixon all the way.

When she reaches the tween stages, tempers start to flare and arguments ensue, only unfortunately for Daryl his daughter is, well his, and not Judith, so instead of walking away she bites back, and surprisingly hard.

“Dammit girl jus’ listen ta me alrigh’?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Aye! Watch yer damn mouth missy- Don’ walk away from me!”

The conversation ended with a frilly bedroom door being slammed in his face, leaving him more grounded more than anything. He obviously ends up feeling horrible about, almost spiraling in your arms as he sobbed about how he was ending up lile his dad. You had to reassure him that “Good parents can still argue with their kids. Give her some time and then go talk to her”

Daryl may or may not have felt slightly sick when he knocked on her door a few hours later, but it was quickly washed away when the door open and she jumped into his arms.

“M’sorry fer swearin’ daddy”

“M’sorry fer yellin’ at ya kiddo”

Can you blame the man for crying a little? He didn’t get apologizes as a kid and right now he was healing himself.

Surprisingly the teenage stage ends up being the best, her having gained your sense of humor and a laidback personality, also not being afraid to speak her mind and defend her thoughts.

“Dad, yer gettin’ prettyy fuckin’ old. What am I gon inherit from ya?”

“M’not dyin’ any goddamn time soon girl, get away from me”

“Hey! S’rude to push women! Didn’t moms teach ya anythin?”

“Ya ain’t a woman, yer a girl. Now scram”

“Why are ya tearing me down?”

“Are ya gettin’ a kick out of botherin’ me?”

“Yes very much so”

She becomes his second best friend, constantly getting on his nerves and harassing him throughout the day. Having grown up with Merle, Daryl was used to some of her antics, at one point starting a prank war against her.

“Daryl, do you wanna explain to me why you’re filling balloons with glitter?”

“Yer daughter is gon have some real sparkly hair”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #norman fucking reedus #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

[lesbiten]

grabbing that pic off google images cursed me with Rewatch The Witches Familiar disease

#im not rewatching all of it but i DID rewatch the scene where missy and clara find twelve and hes just like #fucking around in the past. teaching renaissance era people the word 'dude'. winning duels with his electric guitar. #reminds me missy and claras dynamic is so good. need more of them #when they r together it is the only time i really really like clara #simon says

[scarletwinterxx]

fool for you - mark lee dad scenario

a bit late to this but OH MY GOD MARK LEE GIRL DAD😭🥺😭🥺 we already know he's going to be the best dad to his kids in the future🤍🤍

you already know my feels went through the roof after seeing that cli[ so here's another mark dad scenario and can you believe this is the 10th one OMGGGGGG anyways i hope you like it!

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"in my next life, I think I'll become a fool for my daughter"

"Lovie, can you stay with Minjee? I'm just going to the mall with Minjung to get new shoes and a few other stuff for the baby" you tell your husband who is currently on the sofa resting.

It's around that time again when you're counting down the days until the new baby comes, this time the two of you choose to keep the gender a surprise. You won't find out until you give birth. There's an on going bet in your household whether it'll be a girl or a boy.

"Why don't I come with him? You sure you okay to go out?" he asks, watching you struggle putting on your shoes. He chuckles before walking toward you, kneeling down to put it on for you even double tying the shoelaces just to be sure.

"It's okay, besides the doctor said it's healthy to walk around. And we both know it'll be easier to look after Minjung then Jee" you laugh, your husband agreeing with you

"She's the main character, we're all just living in her world" he says

You smile at Mark, giving him a kiss before getting your purse and keys.

"Call me if you need anything" he tells you

"Minjung, let's go" you shout, your son appears from the staircase ready to go

"You already know, buddy. Take care of mom, okay? Call me if something happens" he gives his son a quick hug before watching the two of you drive away

The two of you finished the errands and is now getting a quick snack before heading home. You like having one on one time with your kids. It helps you keep a closer relationship with them. And even though you know the two siblings get along very well, you still make it a point to spend time with them one by one. And so does Mark.

"Is there anything else you need, buddy?" you ask your son

He shakes his head, taking a bite of his sandwich. You smile watching him, it feels just like yesterday you were sitting in the backseat with newborn Minjung in the baby car seat on your way home from the hospital and now he's 13.

"How do you feel about getting another sibling?"

He looks at you, it's like looking at Mark's eyes. They same round, adorable chocolate eyes you love so much.

"Excited. It'll be cool if it's a boy. I'll teach him to play basketball and bike. It's okay too if it's a girl" he shrugs

"You know mommy and daddy loves you very very much"

"I know, I love you too" he smiles back at you

When you get home, Minjee welcomes you excitedly asking if you got her a cakepop which Minjung hands over to his sister

"Wah thank you, oppa! Dad look oppa got me a pink cakepop!" she screams excitedly, running to wherever Mark is. You and Minjung follow her, Mark in the kitchen getting dinner ready

"Cool, but you can have that after dinner okay? Na uh don't give me that look, missy. I ordered chicken just like you asked" the father-daughter banter continues

The two siblings help set up the table while you stay in the kitchen with Mark, "How did it go?" Mark asks you

"Good, we had fun. You sound like you had fun too" you joked

"I swear she knows how to make me says yes" he mumbles, you walk towards him, giving him a side hug

"You love her" you tell him with a chuckle and a kiss on the jaw

"That I do. I'd do anything for our kids" he says, looking down at you. He kisses you on the nose, eliciting giggles from you before breaking away

"Okay, dinner time!"

After dinner and everyone finished with their night time routines, it's finally time to call it a night.

You lay on your side of the bed, getting the pregnancy pillow ready

"Can I keep that after?" Mark asks, you watch him step out of the shower. Towel hanging on his hips while he dries his hair with another

"No" you tell him with a tight smile, Mark laughs before walking towards the dresser to get clothes

"Oh come on, let me enjoy the view some more"

"Woman, you are already pregnant" he tells you, playfully throwing the towel he was drying his hair with towards you. He puts on his sleeping shorts, leaving the shirt behind. He goes out the room to check all doors before going to bed

He turns towards you, the two of you face to face.

"Just a few more days and it'll be five of us" he whispers. His hand resting on your belly

"I'm calling it, this one will look like you again" you tell him

"You love us"

"That I do, I love you and all versions of you. Especially the little humans we made" you smile at him. He scoots closer to kiss you. Kissing you on the lips then on your cheeks a few time until you were laughing.

"Okay, time to rest. Goodnight, baby. I love you" he tells you

"Love you"

Minjung woke up to something poking his back, groggily looking to see Minjee

"Jee? What?"

The girl hiccups, still crying. This woke Minjung up more, sitting up on his bed and turning the bedside light on,

"Why are you crying? Did you have a bad dream?" he asks

"Will mom and dad not let me live here when the baby comes?" she asks, her tiny voice breaking

"What? of course not" her brother immediately answers. He gets out from under the blanket to hug his sister, wiping a few tears running down her face

"When you were born, I was so excited. Dad took me to the hospital to meet you. You had this big bow on, you were crying a lot too" he tells her

"You were there?" she asks

Minjung smiles "Yea, dad even helped me to carry you. You were really tiny. When the new baby comes, we'll go together to meet them"

"Will you still play with me when they come?"

"Of course I will, we're bestfriends right? You gave me this" he says, showing the beaded bracelet Minjee made for him. Similar to what she's wearing.

"You promise? You'll still get me cakepops?"

"Of course, pinkypromise"

The two siblings lock pinky fingers, the younger one finally smiling.

"Wait here okay?" Minjung says before going out of his room and carefull walking towards his parents bedroom. Knocking lightly before going in.

He walks towards Mark's sleeping figure, tapping him awake

"Huh what wha huh?? Minjung? Are you okay? What's happening?" Mark asks, sitting up immediately

"What time is it?" he asks, looking for his phone to see it's 2am

"Minjee woke up crying, she's in my room now"

Mark stands up carefully, looking over at your sleeping figure before quickly putting on a shirt and walking out with Minjung

"She okay? bad dream?"

"No uh it's about the new baby"

His son didn't need to elaborate anymore, already getting a hint why his babygirl was crying.

When the two walks back to Minjung's room, Jee still sitting there.

"Hey, Jee. Come on, dad will come with you. Goodnight buddy, thank you for being a good brother" Mark tells his eldest, kissing him on the head before stepping out of the room with the younger one

"Do you want warm milk before going back to bed?" Mark asks the 6 year old girl, getting a no from her

When they get to Minjee's room, the two sat on the bed

"Are you sad right now?" Mark asks his daughter

"Will you still love Jee when the baby comes?" Jee asks and Mark crumbles

"Oh my girl, of course I will. I'll love you longer than forever and that's a long long long time. You'll always be my princess. Even after the new baby comes, mom and dad might need to spend more time with them but that doesn't mean we love you and your brother any less" he tucks her hair behind her ear, pinching her cute round cheeks she definitely got from you.

"Can dad have a hug?" he opens his arms, Minjee scooting in her father's embrace

"Always remember, dad loves you so so much. I'd give you the moon and all the stars if you want. If you ever feel sad you can come and talk to me okay?"

He feels the younger one nod. Tucking her in bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before calling it a night (again)

When he gets back to your room, he slides under the sheets then he feels you search for him

"Min?" you mumble

"Here, baby. Go to sleep" he leans over to give your temple a kiss. He sees a sleepy smile on your lips before your heads goes down on the pillow again.

Just like that everyone was asleep again, but before he fades into dreamland he says a silently thank you to heaven for this life. Ready and excited to face tomorrow with his family.

#fic #story #fanfic #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mark lee #mark lee #mark imagine #mark scenario #mark fluff #mark dad #mark au #mark lee imagine #mark lee fluff #mark lee au #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct au #nct dad

[adamstnheights]

Stitches - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You’re the newest recruit to 141 and still trying to figure out your intimidating, mysterious lieutenant. Being assigned as his partner on the field for the first time on a sniper mission, you’re unsure exactly how to act around him, especially when he has such an… effect on you. But when you both get caught in the crossfire, you’re forced to take cover with him and mend his wounds, much to his (begrudging) appreciation.

An alternative take on the Recon by Fire mission in MWII. Also based loosely around the Simon Riley ASMR video by Jim ASMR on YouTube because it was just so cute :)

Reader’s callsign is Zero (iykyk)

Content: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Sniper Reader, Reader used to want to be a medic, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Ghost being super soft, You taking care of Ghost, Ghost taking care of you, Gentle touches, Needles, Bandages, Stitches, Developing feelings, Ghost trusting you, Flirting, Fluff, Ghost is a cat person (REAL)

Word Count: 7.4k

“Ghost and Zero, you’ll station up at the top of the hill and see if you can take any of the cartel guards out from a distance,” Price ordered over comms. “When the path is clear, Gaz and I will move into the hatchery and clear them out, looking for any evidence of the missiles. Laswell will be out on the water on overwatch. If we need her, she can get to shore and join us in the hatchery.”

Usually, you would be standing in the debriefing room to hear your instructions for a mission, but because of the short notice and urgency, you were listening to Price’s voice over comms in the back of one of the task force’s vans. While Price continued to speak, you slowly let your gaze move over to where Ghost was sitting across from you in the back of the van, only for your whole body to seize up when you realized that he was already staring at you. And of course, you couldn’t tell what the hell he was thinking—basically his whole expression was covered by his mask. It frustrated you to no end. It felt like he always had the upper hand, not allowing the enemy or opposition to get a read on his face, which was understandable, but you wanted to know. You wanted to be able to know what he was thinking. In comparison, it made you feel extremely vulnerable. Maybe you’d look into getting your own mask.

Being the rookie made you feel extremely out of place. It didn’t matter you had five years of being a sniper under your belt; you’ve only been with them for six months, so to the rest of Task Force 141, you were still the newbie. Talk about your skill had been passed around by word of mouth, and soon Captain John Price had approached your former unit and proposed a deal to you that was too good to pass up. So a few months and a location change later, you were the newest addition to 141, thus securing your label as “the rookie.” There wasn’t really anything you could do about it.

Luckily, the guys in the unit welcomed you with open arms, although the kindness did come along with a fair share of humorous and flirtatious remarks. Soap and Gaz basically took you under their wing immediately, taking pride in teaching you new things and showing you the ropes of 141. They urged you to join in on their game nights and when they would go out to the bar after a hard day of training or a rough mission. You felt at ease around the other men, too, for the most part.

Ghost was another story. From the first time you met him, you were intimidated. He had a towering, large figure that could speak for itself, but also his voice was deep and gruff, especially when he was barking out orders. You weren’t scared of him, per se, but you were cautious. From the interactions you’ve had with him and the way you’ve observed him on missions, you definitely wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He was mysterious—the mask and skull cover showed that the most, but on top of that, you noticed the way he expertly dodged any prying questions that Soap would ask him over comms during a mission. When you and the rest of the crew got drunk and began spewing out stories from your former lives, you noticed how Ghost would simply sit back and listen, observe, but not provide any stories of his own. You were sure he had his reasons for being closed off, but you couldn’t help but wish that he were… more approachable. Especially now that you were on your first mission with just him by your side, you felt like you knew him the least out of the other members of 141.

The van slowly and quietly came to a stop towards the top of the hill. Ghost opened the back doors and jumped out onto the ground and you followed, rifle in hand.

“Zero, on me,” Ghost said, nodding his head his way.

The fog along the coastline was thick—good for the enemies not spotting you, but not as good for you spotting the enemies. You stationed yourself about forty yards away from the edge of the uppermost hill, where the grass was thick and high. The outline of the hatchery could be seen far, far in the distance, right along the edge of the land. From where you and Ghost were crouching, you could see below where a dirt path winded slowly down the hills. It would take some time and patience to fully push forward and make it safe enough for Price and Gaz to breach the buildings down below. But you were ready; more importantly, you were counting on this mission to prove your worthiness to Ghost. It was kind of pathetic. You knew you were a damn good sniper out on the battlefield, and yet, ever since Ghost’s intense, unreadable gaze landed on you, you’d felt determined to do whatever it took to get his approval. It didn’t help that the way he looked at you kind of really made your heart race, in the most confusing way, and the periodic sarcastic jokes he would make over comms made him more endearing.

Still, you didn’t want to push your luck. The last thing you wanted was for this mission to bring you back to square one in terms of your reputation on the team. In front of you, Ghost crouched even lower to the ground, pointing his rifle outward and looking through the scope. You fell back slightly behind him, also crouching in the grass. After a few moments of silence, you furrowed your brow at him, unsure whether he was going to say something or if he was just trying to act like you weren’t even there. Maybe he was annoyed by you, annoyed that out of everyone else on 141, he was stuck with the rookie.

Finally, he nodded his head forwards, motioning you to follow him. Both of you crawled through the grass until you reached closer to the edge of the hill. You both got down, fully lying on the dirt. Through the fog, you could now make out the wire fences around the hatchery, where cartel were guarding the entrances and walking along the dirt paths surrounding it.

“I can see about ten of ’em, all ’round the entrance fence,” Ghost finally broke the silence. 

“We need to take our time,” you said, “They’ll spread out, into groups of two or three. Then we can take them out.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” he replied, “Let me know who to take out.” Normally, he would be argumentative to a new recruit taking the initiative, but there was something about you that fascinated him. He didn’t mind hearing your voice walking through the plan and telling him what to do. Price had told him about your skill; he knew that you knew what you were doing.

You readjusted your rifle just so, looking through the scope.

“On top of the building, two snipers,” you announced, “Do you see my laser on your thermal?”

You could hear Ghost repositioning his rifle a couple feet away from you in the grass. “Affirmative.”

“Go.”

You pulled the trigger, hitting the sniper on the right. Mere seconds afterwards, you heard Ghost’s rifle go off and through the scope you could see the second sniper’s body fall over.

“Got ’im,” he said. “On the right side of the fence, near the blue shipping container, there’s two.”

“I’m on him,” you said, lining up your shot next to his.

Ghost shot first this time, you followed him. The two men by the shipping container dropped to the ground. You continued scanning the area.

“Three more, below, closer to us, walking by that white van,” you flexed your hand and regripped the trigger.

“I’ll get the stray,” Ghost said.

“Copy that.”

You lined up your shot to the guy furthest to the right, watching as Ghost’s laser appeared over the man next to him. Again, seconds after you shot, Ghost followed, taking out the other. He quickly readjusted his hold on the rifle to focus in on the third one of the group. As you watched through the scope, the third man immediately went onto high alert, pointing his gun around him. Ghost wasn’t worried though as he lined up his shot. Poor bloke; unlike the first two men, this one would spend his last living seconds in panic mode.

Unfortunately, in the few seconds in between, the third man shouted and seemingly alerted someone else. Immediately after Ghost shot him down, two more men came running into view, shooting upwards towards the two of you. With a few uncoordinated shots, you and Ghost took them down quickly, but the not-so-subtle gunfire from your direction gave away your position. Before you could even think about moving, a bullet sped right past your view and into Ghost’s arm.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Ghost grunted, sucking in his breath in pain. “Where the fuck—?”

You were frantically scanning the area for where the shot could have come from when another bullet came speeding towards you, and you felt a sharp pain searing through your own arm. Furrowing your brow, you struggled to look even harder through the scope. “Shit—!” You winced.

“Got ’im,” Ghost announced, pulling the trigger, “To your left, on top of that small shed. There was another one.”

“Fuck.” You noticed two more men emerging from behind the shed. Both of you quickly took them down. “We– We need to push forward, we don’t have the best view from here. I can’t tell if we cleared the whole area.”

“Copy that.”

You began to crawl forward, the pressure of leaning on your right arm not helping the gash there. Before you could crawl even a foot you felt an unfamiliar touch on your forearm. Ghost had placed his gloved hand there, and you turned to look at him.

“You okay?” He asked lowly. You nodded your head, too shocked to speak.

You and Ghost quickly moved forward, onto an area of grass a bit lower down the hill than where you were before. You could see a bit closer now, and from the new angle, you could make out the rest of the area below. There were a handful more men on guard around the building, and you gripped your rifle hard in an attempt to distract your body from the pain. You monitored Ghost’s laser and helped him take out the men accordingly. Barely any more gunfire was exchanged.

“Price, Gaz—we cleared the outside surroundings of the buildings. You should be good to go in now,” he directed over comms.

“Copy. Good work, you two,” Price replied.

You met Ghost’s eyes from between the blades of grass and you could tell that he was intentionally not letting Price know that you two got hit. You could have spoken up yourself but you had successfully eliminated everyone and neither bullet seemed to have hit anything critical. Giving the lieutenant a knowing nod, you scanned the area and noticed a stream of water by a small stone building. It wasn’t really a building, more like a small hut. Ghost saw where you were looking and nodded his head towards it, giving you the go ahead.

Crouching slightly, you both quickly snuck towards the stone shack. Ghost positioned himself to cover the rickety wooden door, which you kicked in, instantly holding your rifle up to clear the inside. He followed you close behind, checking all corners of the worn-over room. Everything inside was covered in moss or other overgrown plants.

“Clear.” Ghost stated, lowering his gun. You were already sliding down against the stone wall towards the corner of the room, grasping the side of your arm. Ghost rushed to your side, sitting next to you. “Here,” he went to look at your arm, but you expertly reached for him first.

“Show me yours first,” you whispered, “Mine’s just a graze. Yours is worse.”

“Are you defying your superior?” He asked. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Yours is worse,” you repeated, shaking your head, “The bullet lodged in there. I need to take a look.” You were staring at his left bicep, where the layers of jacket and shirts were ripped into by the bullet. The hole in Ghost’s skin was large, bleeding profusely.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled, “I’m more worried about you, Zero.”

Your eyebrow raised and you tilted your head up to look at him. Behind the mask, you could see his eyes clearly. They were hazel, and for probably one of the first times since you’ve known him, they looked soft and genuine. Up close, you could see little spots where the black paint smudged and his skin was peeking through. His eyelashes were blonde, slightly covered by some black face paint, but definitely blonde. Suddenly, you were trying to picture Ghost’s blonde hair under the mask and balaclava. You weren’t as intimidated by him anymore as you were intrigued—deep down, you wished you could see more of him.

From what you’ve observed of him (plus things Soap and Gaz have said), you knew he wasn’t really as big and scary as he seemed to be. He cracked jokes over comms during missions. During downtime on base he’d join the rest of the group playing cards or drinking, still wearing his balaclava obviously, but without the skull cover and only minimal black eye black on, so you could see more of his face clearly. You would never admit it to the rest of the guys, certainly not Soap, but you found Ghost to be quite handsome. (You could just hear Soap teasing you: You don’t even know what he looks like! He could be ugly!) Between his deep voice, towering figure, and the way his hands worked around his rifle (you have stared too many times to admit), he was… hot. What more could you say? It felt like a silly high school crush; he was your superior and you barely knew anything about him. But… you wished you could learn more. You would, if he’d let you. You would.

And now, with his face only inches away from yours, his eyes looking at you intently, you felt determined to take care of him. You wanted to see that softer side of him, and you also wanted an excuse to dote on him. Already, he was acting a bit more flustered than usual with you trying to defy him. You wondered how long you’d be able to keep it up for.

“I’m not taking that for an answer,” you insisted. “Yours is worse, so we’re taking care of you first.”

Ghost raised his eyebrows, his mouth partly open in shock of your defiance, but his lips spread into a smirk, amused by your determined edge. He was intrigued by you, so he’d let you win this argument. He didn’t say anything more as you inched closer to him. He sat with his entire back against the wall, facing forward. You turned your body towards him, sitting cross-legged as you placed a hand on his arm where the bullet wound was.

“I… think you’re going to have to take this off. The jacket, at least. Sorry, Lieutenant,” you said.

“You can call me Ghost, you know,” he said as he leaned forward to unclip his tactical vest and shuck the jacket off.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, “I was just trying to be polite, I guess.”

“Don’t need to be polite with me,” he smirked.

“Okay… Ghost,” you smiled. You took off your own tactical vest and rummaged through the back pockets, pulling out your first aid kit. You opened the kit and took out the tweezers. “Sorry if this hurts.”

“S’alright, not the worst thing I’ve endured. And I haven’t had the privilege of such an… assertive patching up,” Ghost could feel himself blushing behind the mask. He was glad you couldn’t see.

First, you inspected the bullet. It had implanted inside his arm, making it impossible for any kind of extraction, especially under conditions like these. With only minimal shattering, the pieces embedded into the muscle, there were no critical places hit or at risk. Your main goal was to stop the bleeding so you could stitch the wound closed.

“It seems like… most of your muscle absorbed the bullet. No bone damage or critical areas hit, so… all I’m gonna do is stitch you up,” you explained. You held back a giggle, pushing away the urge to squeeze his arm; you weren’t entirely sure if he’d like that very much (you were almost positive he’d kill you). “When we get back to base, the nurses at the infirmary can keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected or anything, and if not, then it’ll just heal over.”

“Aw, no trophy for me to take home?” Ghost asked.

“You still get to take it home,” you replied, taking your two fingers and tapping his arm above the wound, “just in here. Hey, now it’ll always be with you.” He shuddered at your touch.

You began cleaning around and in the wound, earning a sharp hiss from Ghost’s mouth as you wiped the area off with a small rag and some water from your hydration bladder. You poured some water slowly onto the wound, trying to flush out any dirt or debris, before placing some gauze over it and applying pressure to slow the bleeding. While your one hand was pushing against his arm, you reached your other hand back into the first aid kit, fishing around for your stitching tools. You took out a needle with thread, along with a needle driver. You placed the needle driver on your leg for the time being.

You dug into one of your pockets, brandishing a small square alcohol wipe package, which you promptly ripped open with your teeth so you wouldn’t have to set the needle down. Ghost practically had to hold back from choking on his own breath, the way you were so focused and determined was certainly making him feel some unfamiliar type of way. He had barely gotten a chance to hesitate or argue against you patching him up, he was too mesmerized in watching you and you were already grabbing a hold of his arm again, sending a tingle down his spine as you cleaned his wound.

Then, with one hand, you pierced the skin on one side of the open wound with the needle, then the other side. Your other hand held the needle driver, which you used to grip onto the end of the needle, pulling the thread through the newly made holes. With an even amount of thread left on either side of the wound, you wrapped the thread from the left side around the needle driver twice, then grabbed the other end of the thread with the driver. You pulled from both ends gently, making a first throw of the stitch. You did it again, looping the one side of the thread around the driver, grasping the other end, and pulling it tightly to make the knot. Ghost watched, almost in awe, at your expert handiwork. You made it look so easy. 

“I... wanted to be a nurse, or a medic, or whatever, you know,” you rambled as you moved up the wound a few centimeters, piercing the skin to start another stitch, “I made it through undergrad and then… shit just didn’t really work out. But hey, I found out I was a pretty good sniper. So I’m good for somethin’, at least.”

Simon felt his whole body heating up from the way both of your hands were making contact with his upper arm. One hand was gently pressing down on his bicep around the wound while your other had the needle held in between your fingers. The gash you were closing up on him was large; it was certainly going to leave Ghost with a jagged scar. But for once, he felt at ease.

In all his years in the military, the marks and scars that have riddled his body only brought him more shame and discomfort. Sure, there were a few scars that were his “go-to” to talk about when the other guys began showing off about past endeavors (This one here, knife fight. I grabbed the bloke from behind and stabbed’im in the neck, but not before he got one in my side). Other than that, most of the bullet holes and jagged lines where his skin couldn’t fully heal only reminded him of the horrors and the pain. Now, though, the thought of having a scar on his arm from a wound that you took care of, he couldn’t be more elated. A mark on his body, stitched together carefully and gracefully by you. A secret moment—a memory—that only the two of you shared, forever imprinted into his arm; a scar that no one else would know the backstory to, unless he decided to tell it (he wouldn’t—he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else).

Okay, so maybe some sort of feelings were blossoming in the cold, cold heart of Simon Riley. You didn’t have much of an idea about it, and honestly, neither did Ghost himself. Soap had teased him multiple times about a supposed “crush” that Ghost didn’t fully realize he had. But the sergeant certainly had. Soap teased him about how he always insisted he didn’t want to play cards with the rest of the team, only to grab a seat next to you and strategize how to beat everyone else. Was it an excuse to sit real close to you and exchange whispers and laughter? Soap would never get an answer because Ghost would tell him to fuck off, but he already knew the answer anyways.

Ghost’s heart was racing, suddenly and somehow nervous in your presence.

“Why do they call you Zero?” He asked abruptly, a random question spilling from his lips. He just wanted to keep hearing you talk to him.

“Isn’t that like, impolite to ask?” You smirked.

He laughed—a genuine, full out laugh. Your eyes brightened. “I’m only curious,” he said softly. “Jus’ tryin’ to make conversation.”

“Well, why do they call you Ghost?” You shot back playfully.

“Now that’s classified, love.” His eyes immediately widened as the endearing term slipped from his lips. He hoped you didn’t catch it; meanwhile, you were going to think about it for the rest of the week. You grinned to yourself, and he looked down at his hands and focused on how your needle pierced his skin—a certain amount of discomfort, but something that felt good knowing that you were right there next to him. He didn’t want to get into his callsign; however, he was willing to give you something else. “My name—my real name, I mean… It’s Simon.”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You almost couldn��t believe that he told you, you hadn’t expected him to want you to know something like that. “Simon,” you repeated, watching as he nodded his head. “That’s a nice name. Simon. So… am I allowed to call you Simon now?”

Ghost looked past you at the wall for a brief moment, thinking. “Not on the field,” he stated, “But… when we’re back on base… sure. Yeah. Call me Simon.”

You shivered at his deep voice. Simon, Simon, Simon. You wanted to say it again and again. And he wanted to hear you say it. He would like his name a thousand times better if it was coming from your mouth.

“Simon—”

“Hey.”

“Sorry. Ghost,” you giggled. 

Three stitches down. You kept working, quickly and efficiently. Ghost kept watching you, wondering why Price hadn’t brought you onto the team as a medic. Not that your sniping abilities weren’t needed and greatly appreciated, but Ghost selfishly thought about how from now on, if he got so much as a small scrape, he’d go to you for help. Soon enough, you were finishing the last throw on the fourth stitch. You moved onto the next one, lacing the thread through the needle to start again.

“Don’t know how to use half the shit in the first aid kit,” now it was Ghost’s turn to ramble, “Usually just slap a bandage on ’n hope for the best. I mean, I’m not stupid, I don’t leave my shit untouched to get infected or anything. I just… don’t really follow up on any of my doctor’s appointments. But I’ve made it alright so far.”

“You should let yourself be taken care of more often,” you said softly. Your face grew hot when you realized the way that could have sounded and you added, “When you get hurt like this. You don’t have to always put on a brave face and grit through the pain. You need to take care of yourself.”

Ghost scoffed almost instinctively, but his heart swelled at your concern for him. He admired you for being so caring, not just to him, but to everyone on the team. Despite not always showing it, he cared deeply about all of the other guys on 141, he would die for any of them. He didn’t have a family, but 141 was the closest he had to one. The way his team interacted with each other was important to him, and watching how you melded with everyone else over the past couple of months, he felt happy, content. Your kindness only intrigued him more; he wished that he could be the only recipient of your sweet words and attention.

“Well, I– I don’t usually trust anyone to patch me up,” he attempted at some sort of compliment. Your eyebrow raised and you looked up at him.

“Hmm. So… you trust me then?” You asked cautiously. You heard stories about how Ghost hardly trusted anyone, and your heart began to beat faster at the implication that you had somehow made it on the list of those he did.

“You could say that,” he said. He cursed himself in his mind for not knowing how to properly talk to you, how to make you feel cared about the way you made everyone else feel cared about.

“And what’s that supposed to mean exactly?” A smirk spread across your face.

“Fuck’s sake, just take the compliment, will ya?” Ghost practically grumbled, sounding like an annoyed child.

You let out a soft laugh. Ghost put the sound of your laugh into the back of his mind, for safekeeping. “That’s your way of giving me a compliment, huh?” You teased.

“M’not very good at it, am I?” He sighed into a small laugh.

“Just a bit rusty,” you tilted your head up at him, your faces somehow closer than you had remembered, “But you can get better with practice.”

“Practice, hm?”

“Uh-huh. You can feel free to practice your compliments and pick up lines on me anytime.” You were too shy to make eye contact with him after that; you began to focus extremely on his wound. 

Ghost’s right eyebrow raised slightly, unable to properly register whether you were genuinely insinuating that you would enjoy it if he flirted with you. As if he even knew how to. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed that he had no idea what to say. He thought about Johnny, and how his downright stupid pick up lines he used on people at the bar usually actually worked. There was no way Johnny would let him hear the end of it if he approached him for help with flirting, but Ghost wondered who else he would want to confide in when they returned to base. 

“Almost finished,” you announced, finishing another suture. The skin was carefully pulled back together, only needing one or two more stitches. “I am fairly confident that this will heal very quickly and very nicely. Well, granted that you go back to the infirmary and get yourself followed up on.” You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Do I have to go to the infirmary when we get back?” He complained. You laughed at the way he practically whined.

You looped the thread again with the needle driver and began the last suture. In a matter of moments, you’d knotted the thread three times over and secured the suture flat to the skin. You moved your head closer to inspect your work, nodding and looking up at him.

“Well, I’m done stitching you up. And yes, you do, because you need to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected,” you said, half sternly. Soap told you probably hundreds of stories about Ghost refusing to get proper medical help after returning from a mission, and your fleeting former life as an almost-nurse made you feel very strongly on the topic. “Please, after all I did to stitch you together, won’t you make sure that it heals alright?”

His heart swelled. As much as he tried to push down feelings like this, he knew that he’d do anything for you. And you asked so nicely. However, he had a negotiation in mind.

“Well… What if I get checked up on by you? When we get back to base? You know, instead of going to the infirmary?” He raised his eyebrow and watched the gears turn in your mind. He prayed that his message would come across properly: I’d rather see you. I trust you more.

“Don’t go getting too attached to your medic, now,” you fake tsk-ed at him, but you were smiling, too. Ghost laughed. Too late for that. 

“You can give me a once over when we get back. Vouch for me so I don’t have to go deal with the other doctors,” he pushed.

“You’re very difficult, Ghost,” you tutted. “But… I’d rather be the one to make sure you’re alright. That way I can ensure you’re following the proper recovery routine.” You reached into your kit again and got out a bandage roll. You reached out for his arm again, beginning to wrap the bandage gauze around his arm.

“And what kind of recovery routine would you want me to follow?”

You clicked your tongue, thinking. “You have to let me eat dinner with you in your room. And then after, I can check your wound,” you decided. Luckily, the words coming out of your mouth were far from Go on a date with me, but it was certainly the closest you’d get. Ghost hardly ever ate dinner in the common area with the rest of the task force, you assumed mostly because eating would involve him having to pull his mask up. Remembering this fact, you quickly added, “I won’t even look at you while you eat. I just… thought maybe you’d like some company.”

He stopped himself from blurting out something inappropriate, a dumb teasing line about you just trying to make up an excuse to get into his bedroom. His usual confidence to say whatever dumb, crass joke he wanted disappeared with you so close to him. He was more nervous than anything to scare you away, to say something that would make you not want to be around him.

“I’d accept that,” he finally said. “And… you wouldn’t need to do that.” He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “You’re allowed to take a look at me while I’m eating.” He smirked as he saw your cheeks grow red. 

“I— I mean, I didn’t mean I wanted to like, stare at you while you’re—” you tripped over your words, stopping to take a breath and collect your thoughts. Slowly, you opened your mouth again, “Well, I mean, I am curious… I guess…”

Ghost was smiling proudly under his mask, finding it incredibly endearing the way you admitted your curiosity. He always stuck to his secrecy behind the mask for the most part; he was sure that the other guys had seen his jawline and mouth from the times he ate or drank around them, but they never made too big of a deal (besides Soap, who would use the mask as a prime source for his teasing). More often than not, on base, he’d retreat to his room to eat simply to avoid any annoyances around lifting the mask up and back down over and over. But now, really thinking about it, he realized he wouldn’t mind at all if you saw him eating. Maybe, just maybe, he would enjoy your company for dinner on a daily basis. He wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just yet, but in the back of his mind, he already knew.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ghost said, “I’d rather be able to look at you and talk to you while we eat.”

“So you’re taking my offer,” you beamed.

“That I am. Now let me look at you.”

The lacerations along your own arm were stinging and bleeding, but somehow the high of the lieutenant caring about you overrode that pain. Still, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to have Ghost dote on you, although you had a feeling he wouldn’t be as gentle as you were with him. Either way, you let him help you take your jacket off and you shuddered at the few moments his bare hand brushed against you. He placed his hands on either side of you, on your shoulders, turning you more towards him, closer to him. He looked at your arm.

“Look, we have matching wounds,” he said, raising his own arm up next to yours. You let out a small laugh, not expecting him to say something like that. It was sweet.

“We both have something to remember this day by.”

“You want to remember this?” He asked, as if he weren’t going to think about the way you gently stitched him up and took care of him for the rest of his life.

“Of course,” you replied, “We completed our mission, quite well, I might add, and I think we make a good team. Plus, you told me your name. So of course I want to remember this.”

Ghost blinked at you, trying to decipher any evidence of disingenuousness in your face, only to be met with the exact opposite. Your expression was soft and genuine. Your eyes shimmered for him. Ghost wasn’t used to hearing such nice, kind things towards himself, and you could tell he wasn’t used to it by the way he remained silent, not even coming up with a dry joke to change the subject. You wondered how many times you would have to compliment him before you could really get through to him.

“You’re staring, Zero,” Ghost’s deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “Can’t help that you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his cheeks were flushing again. His hands were slightly shaky as he took your arm, closer to him this time. He shifted his whole body so he was completely facing you, ready to patch you up.

You had only been grazed by the bullet, but it still hurt like hell. Your whole right arm was burning up with a searing pain, not the worst you’ve ever felt, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable. The skin on your arm wasn’t torn open the same way Ghost’s was, with the bullet embedding inside, but it was like the edge of the bullet tried to scoop into your skin like a shovel into dirt. It didn’t go through or below the skin, but it was deep enough that blood was trickling down your arm. You were so focused on taking care of Ghost that you had barely noticed it.

“Fuckin’ hell, Zero,” Ghost said, his eyes widening in concern from seeing your wound more clearly. “You’re lucky the bullet didn’t lodge in ya.”

He reached next to him and grabbed a wad of gauze, dampening it with some water and placing it over you. His large hand placed pressure on you to stop the bleeding. You tried not to think about his hand pushing against you in a different context. His hands were warm on you and you couldn’t help but shiver. You hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps along your arm.

After a few minutes of applying pressure to your wound, Ghost lifted up the gauze, inspecting you.

“Looks like the blood mostly stopped,” he told you, putting the wad of gauze next to him on the ground. He took out his own alcohol wipes, holding them up first as if to warn you This might hurt. He held your arm with one hand and wiped the wound with the other. The alcohol stung but it didn’t matter. Ghost was taking care of you. “Hold still.”

As he sanitized your wound, Ghost would wince whenever he heard you suck in a breath or make a small, pained sound from the alcohol. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to be gentle with you like you were with him. Sure, maybe he wasn’t very good at all that, but he’d like to try, for you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he ran the alcohol wipe over the scrapes a few times, sanitizing the area and wiping away the blood.

“Don’t have any antiseptic,” he mumbled.

“Wait, I do,” you speak up, taking out a small tube of antiseptic ointment from your kit. Handing it to him, he put some on his pointer and middle fingers, gently making contact with your skin. He patted the ointment into the wound and the skin around it, his expression deeply focused to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. He wiped the excess on a small square of gauze and looked at you, as if waiting for approval. You blinked at him, smiling sweetly, and he turned away, always nervous when you smile at him, to reach for the bandage roll.

“I, uh, used to have a dog. German Shepherd. He got his back paw caught in a chain fence once and I had to bandage his leg and everythin’... Guess that’s the closest I ever got to bein’ a medic,” Ghost chuckled softly, unraveling the bandage and holding the end of it in place over your arm, using his other hand to begin wrapping it around you. 

“A dog, hm?” Now that piqued your interest. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be a dog person.”

He shook his head. “Not really. More of a cat person, actually.”

“You’re joking,” you gasped. You tried to imagine Ghost with a cat cuddled up on his lap or chest.

“Cats get a bad rep,” he said. “I like that they’re independent and do their own thing most of the time. But they’re still sweet, they’ll still rub against you when you pet them and curl up next to you on the couch. They’re more stand-offish and brooding than dogs, I guess. But what’s so bad about that?”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you whispered. Ghost locked eyes with you, and you could tell that his eyebrows were raised. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. You continued, “But don’t worry. I really like cats, too. Misunderstood creatures. And cute.” You smiled at him, hoping to God he understood that you were trying to flirt with him. It was hard to tell, but you assumed by the way he chuckled softly and moved even closer to you to continue patching you up that he got it.

He placed his hand on your arm and ripped the bandage, placing the rest of the roll back into his kit. He repositioned the ending of the bandage so that it stuck on top of itself, keeping the wrapping in place without any need for medical tape. When his hands left your arm, you had to hold yourself back from frowning, already missing the skin-to-skin contact.

“Well, I think tha’ll do ya good, a’least until we get back, yeah?” Ghost said, leaning back from you a bit. Still, you noticed that the way you were sitting, your legs were still touching. 

“Thank you,” you placed your hand over the bandage, moving and flexing your arm to see how it felt.

Ghost got up from the ground and began putting his jacket and tactical vest back on. He walked a few steps across the room where he had leaned his rifle up against a dusty table. Rummaging through his vest for some ammo, he began reloading his gun and humming ever so softly to himself. You watched him, your cheeks tingling with warmth. As much as you wanted to get back to base, you also didn’t want to leave this moment. You doubted that anyone else had the privilege to see him like this. In Ghost’s world, watching him reloading his gun was probably the most domestic thing you would ever be able to watch him do. When he finished, he turned and looked at you, completely catching you staring. You saw slight motion under the mask—he had to be smiling. The thought made your heart race. But you cleared your throat and scrambled to your feet, turning around to pick up your jacket and tactical vest off of the ground. You zipped up your jacket, half turned away from Ghost, but feeling his eyes on you.

“Zero.” His gruff voice sent shivers down your spine. You turned around and met his gaze. Those hazel eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Glad you’re safe.”

Your heart raced. Ghost’s heart softened.

———

The flight back to the base landed in the early hours of the morning. The sun had barely started to rise, the sky a deep pinkish red as you and the rest of 141 walked back into the building. Gaz and Price had successfully breached the hatchery, clearing it out and finding evidence of tunnels underneath the lighthouse on the island. Laswell would talk to Shepherd and figure out a game plan, but at least for one night, you would be able to relax.

As soon as everyone reached back to the barracks, everyone scattered into their rooms to clean up, unpack, and get some shut eye. Despite it being early in the morning, everyone on 141 hadn’t slept for at least 24 hours. You took a quick shower and changed into something warm and comfy, falling asleep in your bed without any tossing and turning. You awoke later in the afternoon, around four o’clock, stomach grumbling. Your face lit up, remembering your arrangement with Ghost—Simon.

You put some shoes on and freshened yourself up in the mirror, suddenly feeling nervous and yet you were so excited. Walking into the common area, you opened one of the fridges and took out a pasta dish you had made the other day. You split the leftovers in half, putting it into two bowls and microwaving them. Humming to yourself, you realized that you were actually getting the thing you’d been wanting ever since you met him: true, one-on-one time with the brooding lieutenant. Since yesterday, your feelings towards him had only blossomed further, and from the way he had looked at you and leaned close to you, you had a little bit of hope that maybe he could feel the same. You felt like a giddy highschooler as you took the bowls out of the microwave and quickly grabbed some utensils from one of the drawers. When you spun around, you almost crashed into Price who was entering the kitchen area with Gaz.

“Oh, sorry, Captain! Didn’t see you there,” you apologized but swiftly moved past them, barely paying either of them any mind.

“Where’s she going in such a hurry?” Gaz asked, raising his eyebrow as you continued down the hall. Price gave him the same puzzled look back.

“Hey, Zero!” Price called. You spun around. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, I’m just bringing some dinner to Simon’s room!” you lifted up your hands with the two bowls of food to show them. Price and Gaz nodded slowly, and you were clearly in a hurry because you hardly waited for either of them to reply before you turned back around.

You turned the corner at the end of the hall out of their view. Both men were still staring at where you were standing seconds before.

“I didn’t know he let people into his room,” Price said, grinning ear to ear.

Gaz stood frozen in place, “I… Did she just call him Simon?”

Price choked out in laughter.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #simon riley fic #mwii #my stuff

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing and playful mentions of religion.

In truth, Eddie Munson does not care if you're not into the metal scene. Though it wasn't until instances like last Friday, in which he truly realized just how little you knew, and he had a fucking field day.

It all began when you were propped on sore elbows and laying on your tummy, as his rough carpet scratched your skin, and you attempted to do your homework. Heavy on the "attempt" because Eddie Munson situated himself right next to you, and made it his life's mission to steal your attention.

Lifelessly, he'd plopped from his bed, a heavy grunt following, and landed right next to you. "C'mon, sweetheart, you've been doing that shit for hours." Ten minutes. It'd only been ten minutes. "It can't possibly be more entertaining than me." He pouted.

You merely giggled. "Eds, I'm trying to finish so I can hang out with you."

"Can't you just hang out now?" He huffed. "I mean, isn't that the whole point of, you know, coming over?"

You could only scoff with a smile. "Uh, if I'm not mistaken, it was you who said I could finish my work here." You stated matter of factly.

"Puh-lease." His dramatic sass always kicking in. "You and I both know, sweetheart, that I just said that to get you to come over." He spoke such truth so highly, it made you laugh. "Besides, wouldn't you rather be doing something romantic, like making out with your smokin' hot boyfriend while listening to music?"

"Oh, right, because your little punk music is so romantic."

It was then you heard the most conspicuous gasp ever uttered by Eddie Munson, as he sat up, hand over his heart, like he was in a corny soap opera. The way his large eyes grew even bigger had you reeling back your words to see where you went wrong.

Now, to any normal person, the obvious would have been the clear insult of calling his taste unromantic, but to a metalhead? Yeah, it was something completely different.

"'Punk music?!'" He reiterated with such bewilderment. "I do not listen to punk music!" You've never seen such offense and disgust consume his dramatic antics. It had you dying of laughter. "You think this is funny?!"

"Yeah, I do." You unabashedly answered with a giggle. "It all sounds the same, what's the difference?"

Your rhetorical question left Eddie Munson's mouth agape. "You are walking on thin ice here, missy." He pointed a finger, as if discipling you. "I am a metalhead! Not punk. Metal! C'mon, say it with me, me-tal-head."

You laughed incredulously, with a playful slap to his arm. "Shut up!"

"C'mere!" You squealed, as he manhandled you onto his lap, ready to teach you a lesson and because you were infuriatingly cute, gushing his insides with happiness, even if you misjudged his choice of music genres.

"Look." He redirected you to a peeling poster on his wall with a point to his finger. "You see him? You know who that is?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Eddie, I know who Ozzy Osbourne is." You mocked with a bored voice.

"Good, because he's lesson number one." He put on his stern face, one that was used to mimic Ms. O'Donnell. "Me and Ozzy are a package deal; you date me, you date him."

"I can't date Ozzy Osbourne." You laughed at the obvious.

"That's right, so you worship him instead." He nodded his head in complete seriousness. "Right before you go to bed, I want you on your knees and praying to him. He's your god. An Ozzyist, if you will."

You laughed with pure joy, because, my god, you couldn't believe you got the bragging rights of dating Eddie Munson.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader

[twola]

Yo yo yo! I have a request. Do Arthur x f!reader where he's teaching her to fish because Hosea/Dutch has found out shes weirdly squirmy about fish but she's being a reluctant brat about things and Arthur loses his temper 'GODDAMMIT wOmAn!' Style. Make its as unhinged smutty as you please (so a LOT 😏) Thank you! 😘😘😘

Ooh. Well now - I do not like fish that much, so this isn’t a stretch for me 😂 This was super fun!! I hope you enjoy.

Gone Fishin'

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

As Arthur reaches the end of his convalescence after his run-in with Colm O’Driscoll, Hosea has a task for him - teach one of the girls how to fish. The task, he finds out, is a little harder than he imagined. Also, he’s a little harder than he imagined. 

Lemoyne was warm. Warm and humid, buggy, and miserable. Arthur’s work shirt stuck to his skin, even after shedding his full union suit underneath his clothes, he’s still too damn hot. 

He’s hot and bored.

The pain in his shoulder is just a niggle at this point, but Grimshaw refused to let him go work again, even though the wound has closed up, scabbed over, and is scarred with new pink skin. 

Three more days, Grimshaw pointed at him, and with that tone that he knew he would catch hell from her if he disobeyed.

But he’s past languishing under the shade of his tent. Idleness may suit a drunk like Uncle - but not a man like him. He is a man of action.

He needs to do something. Or he is going to go crazy.

-

“Oh, come on, dear. It’s relaxing.”

“Hosea, I don’t do fish. I don’t like eatin’ them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t like catching them.” You huff, standing at the end of the dock. 

Hosea sits next to you, a fishing pole in his hand as his feet dangle over the side of the dock. You fiddle with your skirts as you gaze out at the lake, the water glinting in the afternoon sun.

“It’s an art, dear girl.”

You scowl down at him, “Fish are disgusting.” 

He laughs, “Oh, you. We’re on a lake, you’re gonna have to get used to fish real soon, missy.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s hot, and you wear just a simple white chemise top tucked into your cotton skirt, baring your arms and decolletage to the sun, a welcome opportunity after almost freezing to death in the Grizzlies. 

Hosea looks back toward the camp, where he sees Arthur mulling about. An idea strikes him, genius, as his ideas often are. He stands up, and waves over to the recovering gunslinger, “Arthur, c’mere! Got somethin’ for you to do!”

“No- Hosea,” you whisper harshly, clenching your fists in your skirts, “What are you doing?”

Arthur approaches the end of the dock, running his hand through his long beard, not having shaved in weeks at this point. “Hosea,” He grunts, then looks to you, “Miss.”

“Dear, you need to learn the fine art of fishing. And Arthur over here? He needs somethin’ to do other than sit around pissin’ off Grimshaw.” Hosea waves his free hand toward the camp,

Hosea claps Arthur’s back with his free hand, then turning and tugging you toward the gunslinger on the dock.

“Now you kids take the boat and get on out there, it’ll do both of you some good.”

“Wait wait, wasn’t it you and Dutch makin’ fun of me for the trout incident? I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fish.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Nonsense, boy. You caught plenty last time we went out. Besides, it’ll get you out of camp.”

“Fine.” Arthur groans, grabbing the fishing rod from the older man’s outstretched hand.

“Hosea-”  You whine, but your benefactor nods his head, cutting you off.

“Go on.” 

You roll your eyes, following Arthur as he steps into the rowboat moored at the dock, taking his outstretched hand, and helping you step into the small boat.

“You kids have fun now.” Hosea waves, a smile on his face.

Arthur grunts, picking up the oars and pushing off from the dock. You sit in the bow of the rowboat, scowling, as Arthur rows away from the camp, scanning the horizon. A hushed quiet falls as he guides the boat southbound, the camp becoming smaller and smaller as he rows deeper out into the lake.

“Why do you want to learn how to fish?”

“I don’t.” You huff, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then why the hell are we out here?” Arthur stops rowing, a scowl also settling in on his face.

“Cause you can’t say no to Hosea.”

“Looks like neither can you.”

An awkward silence settles in between you.

“Well, we’re out here now. Might as well make the best of it.” Arthur says, pulling the oars into the hull of the boat and picking up the fishing rod. He holds it out to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh, refusing to uncross your arms.

Arthur grumbles, adjusting the hat on his head, before drawing the rod back and pulling a feathered lure from his pocket, placing it on the hook. He casts the line further out into the lake. 

“Didn’t really plan on fishin’ today, otherwise I’d have some live bait - worms or crickets or whatnot.” He turns back to you, tugging on the rod slightly, glancing back as the lure bobs in the water.

You glower, scrunching your nose at the mention of live bait.

“I hate fish.” You grit out.

“Oh, hush.” Arthur chides. The line pulls, and he feels something bite.

“Here ya go!” He pulls back the line, the fish hanging in the air. With a grin, he swings the pole in your direction, the bluegill flopping on the line, getting closer to your head.

You scream, standing up in the boat and batting the fish away from your face, causing Arthur to jerk to the side, dropping the fishing pole in surprise. The boat violently bobs side to side with your movement.

“Goddamnit, woman!” Arthur yells, nearly falling over the side of the boat as he tries to catch the pole that you batted away from him.

“I told you I don’t like fish!” You screech, sitting back down slowly as the boat bucks. 

“That’s it, Christ; you’re such a goddamn brat!” Arthur throws the pole within the hull of the boat and grabs the oars, thrusting them into the water forcefully. He heaves the oars, forcing the boat forward as he angrily pulls and pushes back toward the shore, breathing heavily as he propels the boat through the water.

“Arthur - wait-”

“Waste of my goddamn time,” He continues, fuming. It actually feels good to work his muscles like this.

“Arthur!”

By then, it’s too late. The boat hits a sandbar and beaches itself, and the speed at which Arthur was rowing causes the boat to lurch violently, sending you flying forward into his body, and you both tumble to the hull of the boat, a jumble of limbs and your skirts.

Arthur pushes you up, and you nearly fall backward with the force of his shove.

He swears as you get your footing, sitting up and looking for the oars as he pulls himself back up to his seat.

The oars are nowhere to be found. He probably dropped them when he beached the damn boat. Actually, as he squints, he sees one floating away from the sandbar, back toward the middle of the lake.

“Shit.” He curses.

“You idiot.”  You sneer at him, lifting your boot to find it wet with lakewater, a hole having sprung in the bottom of the hull, the wood splintered as water rushes in. You hike up your skirts as the level of water rises within the boat.

Arthur jumps out of the boat, grumbling, looking this way and that as you climb out as well. The sandbar the boat is beached upon is on one of the small islands off the shore of the lake, a good fifty feet to the mainland. He curses to himself as he looks back into the boat, the hull filling with water.

“Now what?” You ask critically as you let your skirts down, following him as he stalks along the island’s shore. 

He doesn’t answer, looking around at the sandy ground beneath his boots.

“Watch out for the snake.” He points at the ground next to you, and your eyes dart downward as a brown water moccasin slithers by.

You scream, jumping toward him in fear away from the snake as it glides away into the water, and in a jumble of limbs, you’re somehow climbing the man as he stumbles backward.

“Get me out of here!”

Arthur tries to have some sort of propriety as he tries to regain his balance, but it’s hard when the only hold on you he can get is to loop his hands under the backs of your thighs. You’re clutching at his shoulders, trying to get yourself off of the ground, and end up finding purchase on him by wrapping your legs around his hips, your skirts askew as you pant in terror.

“Fuckin’ stop-” Arthur grunts, stumbling backwards, finally losing his battle with gravity as you and he tumble into a sand dune. His hat flies off, rolling on its rim in a circle, finally settling a few feet away.

Of course, of course, it couldn’t suit him to land in any kind of proper or decent way. No, no, he had to land completely on top of you, slotted between your hips, your skirts creeping up while his traitorous, immature, villainous cock swells at the pressure of his weight against your clothed cunt.

The air has been knocked out of your lungs, but beneath him, you gasp as he tries to move. Your knees frame him, skirts fallen to your hips to show your skin. Your arms are still thrown around his shoulders as he tries to push himself up, his hands slipping in the sand, causing him to crumble down on you, his hips fully pressing down on yours.

Shit. Shit.

He’s trying to think of anything - rotten meat, Uncle’s laundry - anything to stave off the growing erection tenting within his pants. But alas, he is a slave to his own biology, as his cock stiffens and his blood rushes into his groin.

You stare up at him. His eyes dart away in embarrassment, a blush deepening on his cheeks.

Then, you do something that throws him even further into this pit of arousal he finds himself in.

You slowly roll your hips against him and he cannot help but to let out a low moan in response and press his swollen cock against you harder.

Christ, your hair has fallen from its bun, spread out on the sandy soil of this island like some sort of halo.

Two minutes ago he wanted to throttle you. Now, underneath him, he wants to make you gasp and cry and oh, to say his name in a high whine-

“Fuck-” he curses, but before he can go any further, your hands move from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and you pull downward gently - not enough to move him, but enough to give him permission.

He waits for a moment, searching your wide eyes, your open, wet lips, and in that moment, he throws caution to the wind and leans down to slot his lips against yours. You continue to roll your hips against him, crossing your ankles over his back in a surefire sign of what you wanted, whining into his mouth.

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to give it to you.

As he leans back on his knees, sliding his arms from around your waist, he paws his suspenders down and starts unbuttoning his pants, desperate to free his swollen cock. He grunts with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls his length from his pants, closing his eyes as he strokes himself several times. He faintly recognizes your squirming beneath him, and when he’s opened his eyes again, hand still on his cock, he’s struck by what he sees. You’ve shimmied down your bloomers, skirts flipped up and over your hips, pooling across your waist.

Your folds glisten with moisture, and his hips jut forward near uncontrollably, his cock seeking out your warmth, his body yearning to bury itself within your hips.

“Y- you sure-?” One last chance - one more opportunity to back away from the precipice - to realize that you are both being ridiculous - one second ready to kill each other, the next…

“Arthur please.”

Well, there goes his reservations.

One of his large hands spreads out over your hip, the other around the base of his cock, and he presses the swollen, dripping head of his cock against your folds, trailing downwards as he parts them to your opening, groaning in pleasure as he slips in half an inch.

His hand leaves his cock as he leans back over you, arm landing next to your shoulder, as he gently presses his hips forward, sliding in as you shut your eyes in overstimulation. By the time his hips press against your own and he’s sheathed in you to the hilt, your eyes flutter open as you let out a breath you were holding. Arthur’s other arm comes up to bracket you in, his mouth hanging open as a strand of his honeyed-brown hair falls forward between his eyes.

He lowers himself down to his elbows to press himself completely against you, seeking out your lips again as he bucks his hips forward, causing you to mewl into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers threading into his long hair, grasping it tightly as he settles into a rhythm of rolling his hips back and forth.

You pull on his hair and he groans, thrusting hard into you in response. Seems like you aren’t over your surly mood. He finds a hard and punishing rhythm, again feeling good to work his muscles after his convalescence.  It had been much longer than that since he’s worked these particular muscles.

“A-Arthur-” You moan loudly as he continually strokes that spot within you. He grunts in response, pulling his cock nearly out of your cunt before slamming his hips back into you.

You shriek in pleasure, and for a moment he’s thankful he’s marooned the two of you on this island yards away from the shore of the lake.

“Y’gonna come for me?” He harshly whispers into your ear, “Y’gonna come on my cock?”

That does it.

You cry out, back arching against him, head thrown back into the grassy dune, a high keening sound that makes him moan helplessly in response, gyrating his hips as your cunt clenches hard around his length, warm and wet and perfect.

“Fuck - fuck - woman…” He groans, rutting forward as you come down from your high, his cock pulsing and covered in your warm slick, and he is forced to pull himself from you, gliding out as he sits back on his knees and starts to pump himself.

You look up and god, is he a sight. His hips buck forward as he strokes his length, his mouth hanging open and muscles of his abdomen clenching under his shirt tails. A low moan escapes him as his other hand flies to cover the head of his cock, and he comes with his eyes screwed shut, looming over you.

He pants, for several moments, before opening his eyes. You sit up, needing, needing more, and you loop your hands around his neck again and pull his lips to yours, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, but leans into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.

You pull back, a smile creeping across your face, and as he opens his eyes, he cannot help the same.

“Is that how your lessons always end?” You laugh as he tucks himself away with his clean hand, leaning to the side to wipe his other hand in the grass as a half a smile creeps across his face.

“Only when the student is difficult.” He rumbles, tucking his shirt back into his pants as you start to pull your skirts down over your thighs.

“Mm.. I do remember you offering to teach me to shoot before Blackwater.”

Arthur arches an eyebrow as he rebuttons his pants and slides his suspenders back up. “Y’gonna be a brat about it?”

“Of course.”

He smirks, reaching for his hat on his knees. You push yourself up to stand, shaking your skirt free of sand and grass as you look for where you tossed your bloomers in your fit of passion.

“Arthur.”

“Mhm?” He replies, running his hand through his long hair before placing his hat back on his head.

“How are we going to get back to shore?”

-

Hosea smokes a cigarette sitting by the scout fire, the sun having gone down some time ago.

He’s starting to feel a niggle of concern that the two of you aren’t back. The both of you can certainly take care of yourselves.

You’re stalking back toward your tent, your clothes soaking wet, hair plastered down your neck. You refuse to give Hosea even a passing glance as you head back to the women’s tent.

Hosea arches an eyebrow as Arthur walks closer, also fuming. Also soaking wet. The gunslinger looks at Hosea briefly before carrying on.

“Lesson didn’t go as planned.”

#rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #red dead smut #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #tumblr prompt #drabble #twolafic #gift fic

[svechnikovvv]

soft launch

jamie drysdale x hughes!sister

masterlist: here

y/n.insta

liked by trevorzegras and 865,907 others

y/n.insta date night 🫶🏻🍕

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trevorzegras hands above the waist!!!

y/n.insta you’re so dramatic

trevorzegras i’m just looking out for the greater good

y/n.insta “the greater good”

trevorzegras did you just mock me?? 😧 demoted to least favorite hughes

_quinnhughes she was the favorite before??

trevorzegras i plead the fifth

_quinnhughes did y/n teach you that?

trevorzegras …i plead the fifth

jackhughes y/n soft launching???

y/n.insta showing him off and still respecting his wishes to be kept hidden 😍

jackhughes just go public already 🙄

y/n.insta easy for you to say mr i love attention

jackhughes mom, y/n’s bullying me in her instagram comments again

user1 omg who????

user2 the hand placement 😫

user3 gonna ask the morgue if they accept walk-ins

user4 me too bestie

_quinnhughes they grow up so fast (‘:

y/n.insta mom wasn’t even this dramatic when she found out

_quinnhughes someone’s got to do it

lhughes_06 WHO? WHAT? WHEN? WHERE? WHY?

jackhughes and sometimes y

lhughes_06 jack, that’s a vowel. not the basics to asking questions

jackhughes but there’s vowels in the words. i’m still giving relevant information

lhughes_06 but “sometimes y” is not a question

jackhughes luke, are you blind? theres a y in why

lhughes_06 jack, are you stupid? y is not one of the things you ask someone when asking a question

y/n.insta go watch an episode of schoolhouse rock or something to settle this

colecaufield MISSY SINCE WHEN???

y/n.insta since you’ve been gone

colecaufield do not kelly clarkson me right now

y/n.insta okay mr. know it all

colecaufield STOP

y/n.insta no ❤️

user5 the jack and luke comments 😭

user6 i’m so nosy. i need to know who this man is asap

_alexturcotte the sunset’s nice 😃

y/n.insta i told jack to tell you, turcs. i guess my brother doesn’t value you as much as you thought 😔💔

jackhughes she’s lying, babe. i would never

_alexturcotte then why am i just now finding out?

jackhughes …then it’s definitely what it looks like

y/n.insta

liked by trevorzegras and 961,747 others

y/n.insta love you the most <3 (👤: jamie.drysdale)

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jamie.drysdale you’re my favorite person in the world <3

trevorzegras you make me sick

y/n.insta you’re the sweetest, jaim. but shut the hell up trevor

trevorzegras i will not be silenced

trevorzegras OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

y/n.insta you knew the whole time?

trevorzegras i’ve been holding in my fangirling for MONTHS. i’m finally free from these shackles

y/n.insta i can’t stand you 😭

trevorzegras that’s why jamie chose me over you

y/n.insta who’s the one who gets cuddles from him? not you hoe

trevorzegras EXCUSE ME???

y/n.insta did i stutter? 🤨

trevorzegras jack, do you hear this blasphemy? 😧 jackhughes

jackhughes i’m watching the whole thing

trevorzegras this is outrageous. luke, you’re my new favorite lhughes_06

lhughes_06 i wasn’t before??

jackhughes does this mean i can post all those pictures of the two of you cuddled up together?

y/n.insta the what???

jackhughes trevor did it

y/n.insta sleep with one eye open, trevorzegras

trevorzegras jack, this is why cole’s number gets written on my stick and not yours.

jackhughes take. that. back.

trevorzegras no ❤️

user7 JAMIE AND Y/N! JAMIE AND Y/N!

user8 ohmygod????

user9 felt like an absent parent fr

_quinnhughes he better be serenading you with his guitar skills

y/n.insta he is, don’t worry

trevorzegras he’s making my ears bleed. where’s the concern for me?

y/n.insta you’re just jealous

trevorzegras i would never be jealous of an amateur 🥱

y/n.insta would be a shame if griffin got the videos of you singing in the shower

trevorzegras jamie you’re the best guitar player in the world

y/n.insta that’s what i thought

lhughes_06 soon she’ll be married and having kids 🥹

y/n.insta luke what?

lhughes_06 stop growing up.

y/n.insta but you’re younger than me????

lhughes_06 shhhhh. let me have my moment

user10 does jamie know any taylor on his guitar?

y/n.insta he’s getting there!

anaheimducks we love y/n & jamie in this household 🧡

liked by y/n.insta

colecaufield ATTA BOY DRYSDALE

y/n.insta i bet you have a “saturdays are for the boys” tapestry 😐

colecaufield i’m reporting your account for bullying.

y/n.insta this is why nick is better than you.

_alexturcotte cheers to the newlyweds!

y/n.insta all i did was announce we’re dating?

_alexturcotte exactly.

user11 never knew i needed jamie & y/n until now

user12 this is everything

masonmctavish23 he breaks your heart, you let me know

y/n.insta aye aye captain 🫡

elblue6 you guys are adorable!

y/n.insta thanks mama ❤️

jamie.drysdale

liked by y/n.insta and 985,641 others

jamie.drysdale it will always be you. (👤: y/n.insta)

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y/n.insta i’m sobbing in the costco parking lot

jamie.drysdale baby don’t cry

trevorzegras you had a costco trip without me? 😧

y/n.insta yes bc you’re stupid

trevorzegras this is bullying

jamie.drysdale and this is my comment section

y/n.insta BURNNNN

trevorzegras i’m evicting both of you 🥰

y/n.insta the lease is under all of our names. nice try 😘

trevorzegras how dare you not show y/n any attention

jamie.drysdale weren’t you just being mean to her?

trevorzegras i’m a changed man, jimbo

user13 HE posted this

user14 sliding down the wall. where do i get this

y/n.insta costco

masonmctavish happy for you guys

liked by jamie.drysdale

anaheimducks this is a y/n fan page 🧡

jamie.drysdale and i’m the president

user15 i’m passing away

user16 we’re all y/n

user17 do i want to be y/n or jamie

y/n.insta same

jackhughes i don’t see how you do it jamie

jamie.drysdale lots of patience!

y/n.insta you’re sleeping on the couch 😍

_quinnhughes glad my baby sister found someone good for her

jamie.drysdale trying hard not to fangirl right now, but thanks man!

lhughes_06 i want her home by midnight.

y/n.insta isn’t your bedtime 11?

lhughes_06 blocked.

y/n.insta

liked by jamie.drysdale and 987,450 others

y/n.insta i’d marry you with paper rings (👤: jamie.drysdale)

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trevorzegras so are you guys just exposing your messages now? is this what chivalry has come to?

y/n.insta once you get a girlfriend z, you’ll understand

jamie.drysdale ^^^

trevorzegras oh my god now he’s agreeing with you on everything. he’s in too deep. jackhughes the quicksand is deeper than we thought

jackhughes let him go, he’ll be okay

y/n.insta it’s okay babe. i got you. i can clearly see who took rose’s side while watching the titanic

jackhughes look, there possibly wasn’t enough room on that door for two of them. even if there was, it would sink because of weight

y/n.insta get out of my face

jackhughes i’m not in your face. i’m in your instagram comments

y/n.insta even worse.

jackhughes poor jamie

y/n.insta oh i’m sorry, i thought someone without bitches said something to me 🧏‍♀️

jackhughes this is why jamie is the only one that likes you

y/n.insta remember, i know where you live 😘

user18 i love y/n and jack’s sibling relationship 💀

y/n.insta i don’t. free brother for sale!

user19 y/n & jamie >>>

_quinnhughes maybe i should start posting the sibling groupchat texts

y/n.insta oh god no

lhughes_06 it’s just jack and y/n arguing the whole time

y/n.insta i think it’s pat your bedtime, moose.

lhughes_06 i think you need to be put in a home

y/n.insta 😧 i hope you fail your finals.

jackhughes “it’s just y/n and jack arguing” last time i checked, my name wasn’t luke 🤔

lhughes_06 and last time i checked, y/n’s instagram comments wasn’t the groupchat 🤔

_quinnhughes i’m related to a bunch of idiots

user20 nothing like some jamie content to get us through these trying times

elblue6 when are you bringing him home?

y/n.insta i’m afraid to with the three stooges

masonmctavish23 who is that stud-muffin? 😍

y/n.insta real

anaheimducks jamie needs to bring us coffee sometime

y/n.insta i’ll remind him 🧡

colecaufield where do i find a jamie?

y/n.insta probably doing something with a trevor. they come in pairs. it’s like 2 in 1 shampoo

trevorzegras you did NOT just compare jimbo and i’s friendship to 2 in 1

y/n.insta fight me

_alexturcotte i call being the flower girl

y/n.insta whatever helps you sleep at night turcs

a/n: i love doing insta edits so much 🫶🏻

tags: @jackhues @jackhughesily @nowandkei @starsandhughes

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #nhl hockey #nhl #anaheim ducks #del’s insta edits!

[mellowsadistic]

The Magician's Game - Chapter 3

Katherine ran down the corridor. It was well-furnished with little tables and vases and the occasional gorgeous painting on the wall, nicer even than Katherine’s own family home, but she didn’t have time to admire it. She’d slipped into her room at the same time as the others, pulled on her dress, which had magically appeared on her bed since she’d lost it during the challenge, and left immediately. One woman turned into a thumbsucker, another stripped of her stylish clothes and dressed up like a nursery schooler, and a third, worst of all, rendered permanently incontinent.

Katherine’s relief at not being in Becky’s place had quickly passed. It was pretty clear what sort of thing the Magician had in mind for them, and Katherine had no intention of ending up as some overgrown baby herself. There were still three challenges to go, not to mention whatever extra things the Magician might do to them if they were voted out. She couldn’t stand the thought of ending up like Becky, forced to spend the rest of her life in diapers. Diapers. A fashion statement that told the world you couldn’t even control your bladder and bowels, that you were no better than a two-year-old at keeping yourself clean and dry. The idea that a grown woman could be reduced to that was terrifying. She had to get out of here now.

Katherine ran as quietly as she could. She’d gone deeper into the mansion – there was no way she was going back through the hall when there was a chance Becky and the Magician were still there – but the place was like a labyrinth. Still, there had to be an exit, and sneaking out was clearly her best option. The man was obviously a real magician of some kind, but he surely couldn’t know everything. Katherine was more worried about coming across other people in the house, members of staff perhaps, maids or cooks or housekeepers, anyone who might alert the Magician to what she was doing.

She froze as she head the faint sounds of a soft, female voice coming from up ahead. There was a door on the right of the corridor just a few feet away that was slightly ajar. She’d have to be careful to sneak past without whoever was inside seeing her. She approached cautiously, and as she got closer, the words of the woman inside became clearer.

“There’s a good girl,” she cooed. “Drink it all up for Nanny now, that’s a good baby. Such a hungry girl, aren’t you? Someone’s getting her tum-tum nice and full, isn’t she?”

When she was right outside the door, Katherine peeked inside through the gap. What she saw made her freeze in place. There was a beautiful middle-aged woman sitting on a sofa. Her breasts, larger even than Katherine’s own, were out, and latched onto the nipple of one of them was a girl who seemed to be around Katherine’s age, naked but for the thick white nappy on her bottom. All Katherine could see of her head was her sleek brown hair, but there was no doubt she was nursing eagerly on the older woman’s breast.

“That’s it,” the woman crooned down at the girl laying across her lap. “Drink up all of Nanny’s milk like a good baby.”

Katherine was transfixed. It was like looking at a car crash – a girl her age reduced to the level of a nursing infant.

Quite suddenly, the older woman looked up, straight into Katherine’s eyes. A broad smile appeared on her face, maternal yet slightly sinister as well.

“Does someone else want a suckle?” she asked lightly.

Katherine squealed and fled as fast as she could down the corridor. She ran past other doors, trying not to think about what might be behind them. It was only until she came close to another open one, with a woman’s voice coming from it once again, this time stern and lecturing, that she hesitated.

“You naughty little thing! You do not take your nappy off, missy. I hope that red bottom will teach you a lesson. Come on, legs in, let’s get this over your nappy. You know what a little fountain you can be.”

Katherine couldn’t help herself. She stopped running to glance inside.

There was another Nanny in the room, and another girl. But this time the young lady was standing up, sniffling, her eyes red from crying, while her Nanny tugged a pair of plastic pants over her comically large diaper. She wasn’t wearing anything else. Her bare, womanly breasts, tight tummy, and slender legs clashed ridiculously with the bulky nappy on her bottom.

Just like before, as if she could somehow sense Katherine’s presence, the woman looked around suddenly, smirking. Katherine felt her stomach drop.

“Hang around sweetie, and Nanny will change you into a nappy and plastic pants of your own.”

Katherine fled again, breathing frantically. She had to get out of here! She had to! But as she ran, she began to feel an odd dizziness. She was slowing down, and her strides becoming more and more uncoordinated. Her gait widened, and she found herself lifting her feet too high off the ground, stomping the floor forcefully when they came down and putting her off-balance. She was toddling!

“No, no, no, no, no…” she muttered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. She kept going. At the end of the corridor was a door. If she could just reach it…

Her knees gave out, and she fell to her hands and knees. She crawled desperately towards the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was so close! She didn’t even notice as her knee-length dress shortened, rising up her legs and over her backside, until her bare bum and pussy were on display. She’d been in such a hurry to escape that she hadn’t even bothered putting on underwear.

“Where are you off to, little one?” came the Magician’s deep, amused voice from right behind her. Katherine shrieked in fear and looked around, gazing up at the man standing above her with a wicked smile on his face.

“I… I… I was just…”

“It seems like you’ve been running all over the house, silly girl!” He reached down and patted her bare bottom. “That’s very naughty, sweetie. Daddy told you to get changed and meet back in the dining room. But it looks like a certain little lady was trying to escape! Did you think I wouldn’t know, Katherine? I brought you here with a snap of my fingers, remember? There’s no getting away.”

“I’m sorry!” Katherine sobbed, terror on her face. “Please don’t do anything to me!”

The Magician chuckled and, taking her by her hands, lifted Katherine to her feet. She was relieved that she was able to stand up again, even if her new shorter dress just barely covered her pussy.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not going to do anything too bad to you. But you do need to be punished.”

“Oh God no!” Katherine wailed. “Please!”

“Hush baby. You were very naughty for trying to run away, and I think I know a very fitting punishment for you.”

Still keeping a hold of her hand, he started leading her back down the corridor. With a horrible plummeting in her stomach, Katherine realised that she was still toddling. Her stance was still wide and awkward, her steps still heavy and uncoordinated.

“There won’t be any more running for you, little miss,” said the Magician, confirming her fears. “And no more elegant struts down the catwalk either.”

Katherine burst into tears as the Magician tugged her along behind him. She was going to be stuck like this! She’d always carried herself with such dignity and grace, and now she was supposed to stomp around everywhere like some stupid three-year-old?!

“I heard you saw a couple of the other girls staying in my house,” the Magician went on conversationally, ignoring Katherine’s sobbing. “Little Lizzy getting her afternoon feeding. She used to be a particularly scathing food critic, responsible for the shutdown of many lovely restaurants. She was quite the snob when it came to food. Now she’s on a diet of nothing but breastmilk.” He looked devilishly happy about it. “Of course, most of the guests I have get to go back to their lives – their new ones anyway – but sometimes there are special cases. Since I made her unable to eat or drink anything except breastmilk, I thought little Lizzy might as well stay here with one of the lovely Nannies I employ to be her wetnurse. Then you saw cute little Jemima too. Believe it or not, she was a hardened criminal once, getting involved in gangs and doing all sorts of nasty things. But now she spends her days toddling around in her nappies, playing with her toys, and getting spanked for the slightest bit of misbehaviour. Her attitude is so much better now!”

Finally, Katherine and the Magician were back in the hall. He led her, waddling absurdly and flashing her pussy with every awkward step, into the dining room where they’d had their baby-food lunch earlier that day. The rest of the girls were standing around nervously. They stared at Katherine with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Abby, Madelyn, and Susie were standing close together, but Becky was a little distance away, still wearing a stinky, heavily soiled nappy between her legs. Madelyn was still nursing her thumb, and Susie had apparently not found any adult clothes to change into in her room, because she was still dressed like a nursery schooler.

“Little Katie here tried to escape,” the Magician explained. “So now she toddles when she walks. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

Katherine blushed bright red and kept her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Now then,” the Magician went on, “it’s almost time to have our first vote.” He waved his hand and a ballot box appeared on the table in front of them. “But first, you can all have a little discussion. Talk to whoever you want, or don’t. It’s up to you. But in a couple of minutes, you’ll all be voting to kick one of your number out of the competition. Good luck!”

He vanished, leaving the five women standing there, unsure of what to do. Becky started to move closer to the other girls, but Abby and Madelyn looked disgusted, and Susie said “Ewww! No! Stay over there Becky!”

Becky didn’t know whether she wanted to burst into tears or start screaming in rage. The nappy sagging from her hips was disgusting, but this wasn’t her fault!

“Look, I’m sorry,” Susie said, turning to the others. “But do we really want to spend the rest of this ordeal with a woman who might poop her pants at any moment? I think we should vote out Becky.”

“No!” Becky squealed, looking around desperately. “Please don’t! I don’t want to go home like this! I don’t wanna be a big baby forever!” She looked utterly pathetic.

Abby almost felt a little sorry for her, but she agreed with Susie that spending however many more challenges around a yucky, smelly, pants-filling baby woman was disgusting. But on the other hand, sobbing and crying in her nappies, the eighteen-year-old Becky didn’t seem like she would be much of a threat…

Susie and Becky continued arguing while the others watched. Abby stared at Susie, thinking hard. If anything, Susie was far more likely to pose a threat to Abby in future rounds. She glanced at Madelyn, and noticed that she was also looking at Susie appraisingly, her brow furrowed. She might almost have looked calculating if it wasn’t for the thumb bobbing stupidly in her mouth. Abby might have considered voting out Madelyn – she’d seemed so confident and powerful at the beginning – but being turned into a thumbsucker seemed to have robbed her of some of her authority. Madelyn looked up, and their eyes met. A flash of understanding passed between them. Katherine was still sniffling, mourning her ability to walk like an adult. She wouldn’t be of any use, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.

The Magician suddenly reappeared, and Susie and Becky’s argument broke off. “Are we all ready, girls?” he asked with that horrible smile. He passed out a piece of paper and a crayon to each of them. They all hurried away from one another and, covering their work like schoolchildren taking a test, they scribbled down a name. One by one, they walked up to the ballot box and placed their piece of paper into the slot. Then they all stood around fearfully while the Magician opened it up, and took them out to look at.

“Excellent!” he announced. “At three votes, we have a clear loser.” He looked around, his eyes glittering with light. There was tense silence but for the wet smacking sound of Madelyn’s thumbsucking. The magician’s gaze passed over each of them before coming to rest on Susie. “Miss Taylor,” he said. Susie felt her blood run cold. “I’m afraid you’re out of the competition.”

“No!” Susie cried. “It can’t be me! Count the votes again! I couldn’t… I won’t…”

But the Magician was walking up to her slowly, and her voice died. “Awww, don’t be scared, little one,” he cooed, tickling her under the chin. “I’m not going to throw you out to the cold. I know just the person to take care of you.” He gestured to the door. Susie looked over, and saw her mother standing in the doorway. She felt as though a bucket of ice had been poured over her.

“Hi Susie-wusie!” Mrs Taylor cooed, with a very Magician-like smile. “Are you reading to come back home?” Her voice was slow and patronising, like she was talking to a very young child.

Susie could only stare in horror. Then, when she realised what the Magician intended for her, she turned round and ran. She only made it a few steps before her mother’s voice said sternly, “Stay where you are, little girl!” and Susie felt her body freeze. “Now come back here right this instant. Come to Mummy, Susie-poo.”

Susie couldn’t stop herself from turning around and marching back over to her mother to stand submissively before her.

“W-what have you done to me?” she whispered.

“This lovely man’s sorted out everything,” Mrs Taylor said, tilting her head at the Magician. “He’s made it so you won’t be able to disobey me ever again. Anything I tell you to do, you’ll do it. Isn’t that wonderful? Mummy always did know what’s best for you, and now I’ll have full control of your life for good. You’ve been a very naughty girl, Susie. Running away from Mummy, going off to university, thinking you can be ‘mature’ and ‘independent’. You’ve been very, very naughty – and you know what that means, don’t you sweetie?”

Susie whimpered. She knew what her mother was going to say before she said it. Those horrible, terrifying, humiliating words from her childhood.

“It’s smacky bum-bum time, Susie.”

“No….” Susie sobbed, barely audibly. She hated those words more than anything in the world. It was all her mother’s strict discipline wrapped up in the most patronising, insultingly infantile language. It was every humiliating spanking she’d ever received, right up until the day she’d left home.

“Yes, baby,” her mother said, talking in that same slow, sweet, condescending voice. “Naughty girls need red tushies.” She reached under Susie’s skirt and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her cotton underpants. Then, agonizingly slowly, she drew them down to her daughter’s knees. “There we go. Now over my knee, Susie.”

Susie fought as hard she could to resist, but it was impossible. She draped herself over her mother’s lap obediently.

Mrs Taylor flipped up her daughter’s tiny skirt, exposing her pale bare bottom. She patted it gently, as if savouring the sight of her wayward daughter back over her knees once again, and then she started to rain down sharp, painful smacks.

Susie screwed up her face in pain and humiliation as her bottom quickly went from white to red. She wanted to stay in control of herself, to preserve whatever dignity she had left, but it was useless. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to cry. Her crying became louder and louder as her mother spanked her like a disobedient child, until she was wailing like a baby at the top of her lungs. “Dobbit Mummy!” she sobbed thickly. “P’ease dobbit! I don’t wanna be a little girl again! Waaaaaaaaah!”

The other girls watched with a combination of horror and morbid fascination, and in Becky’s case a tiny bit of satisfaction, as Susie got her bottom smacked like a little girl.

At last, Mrs Taylor finished. She helped Susie off her lap and got to her feet. Susie just stood there, crying her eyes out with her undies around her ankles and her bottom bright red.

“Thank you for everything,” Mrs Taylor said to the Magician. “I’m so glad to have my little girl back where she belongs. Do you think you could be so kind as to send us home? I think this little one needs to spend a few hours in time-out before bed.”

The Magician inclined his head graciously. “Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and Susie and her mother vanished.

#mellowsadistic

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

What's it like for swimming for them

Angel takes the group to a lake near the farm to teach everyone how to swim, but also to aid in their physical therapy. And, well...

Poppy is afraid. SOOOO afraid. Angel holds her close, and it takes her a lot of time before she's able to do it by herself. She's fine with bathtubs and baby polls, but something actually deep???? Her hair getting wet is also really annoying to her as well. She prefers splashing herself and using bigger toys as "boats" rather than just swimming

Huggy Wuggy likes floating in the water. Kissy Missy does as well, but she likes pretending to be a pirate's ship and splashing others in other to cannon ball them. Huggy joins in the war.

Catnap does not like swimming, it feels weeeird, but Dogday LOVES it. Drags him to the water like a mermaid dragging a sailor and laughs everytime when Catnap screams.

Mommy Long Legs is an AWFUL swimmer but she actually likes it!!!! Pretends to be a kraken. Poppy and Kissy like to pretend they're going to take her down with their pirate ship and the trio play fights a LOOOOT.

Bunzo love swimming so much he's vibrating and stimming until he's underwater. Pretends to be a shark, LOVES annoying Catnap with Dogday's help. Plays on Mommy Long Leg's side when she's "fighting" Poppy and Kissy's pirate ship.

PJ Pug-a-Pillar is carrying all the mini toys on his back and pretending to be a cruise ship. When not doing that he's running and splashing and swimming at 100 mph, he LOVES it.

Hoppy loves swimming!!!! She makes it her mission to annoy Catnap and MLL as long as possible.

Boxy Boo is an awful swimmer. Uses Hoppy to help him maneuver underwater.

Kickin LOVES it as well! He and Hoppy compete against each other whenever they swim together. It also helps his bad leg a lot.

Bubba is not as energetic as the others, and swims slowly and steady before going back to the surface. He loves how the water feels against him, even if he's not very good at it.

Crafty has to take it slow as well, and she's super clumsy, but she always has so much fun when they all go to the lake. First to learn how to swim.

Bobby tries to follow MLL's and Hoppy's pace, but in the end she's more like Bubba. Swimming is very relaxing to her.

Picky may not be the best swimmer but once she's underwater it's hard for her to leave. She loves floating above the river, loves sitting down with only her head above water. She's having a Moment and no one dares disturb her.

Miss Delight is one of the best swimmers of the group, and she also really loves it! She's there with Kickin and Hoppy, keeping score of their underwater races before OBLITERATING THEM. She always pretend she doesn't know what the duo is talking about when they tell her she's too good at it. Super smug about it as well.

Angel likes swimming!!!! They're helping the small critters and toys learn, and keep watch as everyone plays and has fun with each other. Dogday grabs them and throws them in the lake more than once just for the funsies, and also to force Angel to let HIM watch the little ones for once.

Prototype is fairly neutral about swimming as a whole. Only joins the fam two years post-rescue, and has to re-learn how to swim on his body. He likes playing with the small toys.

#poppy playtime #save everyone au #poppy worldwide #ask tag #catnap #dogday #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #picky piggy #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #bubba bubbaphant #mommy long legs #bunzo bunny #pj pug a pillar #poppy playtime poppy #kissy missy #huggy wuggy #miss delight #experiment 1006 #poppy playtime prototype

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

Various Storms and Saints- Prologue

"You still haven't told me if he's cute or not."

Scully sighed and pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead, cradling the phone in the crook of her neck. Nobody could make her regret bringing up a subject as quickly as her sister when she put her mind to it. "No, Missy, I haven't," she allowed. "Because it's irrelevant. Mulder's good looks aren't the reason I miss working with him."

"So you admit it? He is cute?"

"Missy. Can we please have a serious conversation, for once?"

"Fine, fine," Melissa acquiesced, though her tone made it clear this point would be revisited in the future. "Tell me why you miss working with him, then."

"Well... part of it is the cases we tackled together," Scully said. "The autopsies I'm stuck doing now that the X-Files are shut down seem so boring in comparison to murderous clones and mind-controlling worms in the Arctic."

Melissa whistled. "Yeah, I can see how that might be a little bit of a come down. What's the other part?"

"What other part?"

"You said the cases are part of the reason. So what's the other part?"

Scully closed her eyes. How to define this most indefinable of relationships, especially to Melissa, who so often seemed to think every person in her life fit into a neat box? "I miss the way he spoke to me," she said finally. "He never talked down to me, not even when he was standing so close I practically had to break my neck to meet his eyes. He made me feel like the things I have to say are important... that they carried real weight with him, even when he didn't agree with me." She chuckled ruefully. "Which was most of the time. He's always shown me a respect that I don't get that often, being surrounded by men in positions of authority who all love to hear themselves talk."

"That does sound like it would be tough to leave behind," agreed Melissa. "Couldn't you... I dunno, lobby to be his partner on whatever assignment he's on now, though? Then at least you'd still be working together even if it wasn't in the X-Files."

"He's working with someone else," said Scully darkly. "At least he was on his most recent case. I don't know if they're officially partners or not."

"And you don't like whoever it is," said Melissa knowingly. "I can hear it in your voice." "I don't really know anything about him," Scully admitted. "But... there's something strange about him, you know? He just makes me nervous." There had been something about Alex Krycek's fresh-faced innocence that had seemed less than genuine, even if Scully couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Bad vibes, huh?"

"Maybe." Scully sighed. "For all I know, it's just my jealousy getting in the way because I want to be the one out there with Mulder."

"See, I knew you liked him," crowed Melissa, and Scully groaned, exasperated.

"Melissa. It's not like that."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say," Melissa huffed. "Hang on a sec, okay?" The phone was muffled, as though Melissa had put her hand over the receiver. Someone's voice asked a garbled question, Melissa gave an equally garbled response, and a moment later, she was back. "Hey Danes, I gotta go, okay?"

"Wait, Melissa, what's your--"

"There's a meditation session I'm supposed to lead and they're waiting for me. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"But Melissa, where are--" There was a click, and the line went dead.

Scully dropped her bedroom extension back into its cradle on the nightstand and sank back onto her bed with a sigh, snuggling into the cardigan she'd pulled on over her work clothes when she'd walked into her apartment. She'd come home from work for lunch, having finished her morning teaching session a little early, and had been available purely by chance when Melissa called for the first time in two months. Phone conversations with her older sister, while always welcome, tended to be exhausting these days. She hadn't seen Melissa in years, not since the day after her graduation from medical school. Melissa hadn't made it to the event itself, but she'd shown up at the party her parents had thrown her afterwards. Melissa hadn't understood her sister's disappointment, and Maggie Scully, as she so often did, had defended her elder daughter to her younger.

"You know big ceremonies aren't really your sister's thing, Dana," she'd said, patting Scully's shoulder consolingly. "She barely sat through her own high school graduation. Just be thankful she's here for the celebration, all right?"

Sitting through a graduation ceremony was boring, to be sure, but that hadn't stopped Scully from doing it for all three of her siblings when they'd finished high school, plus for Bill and Charlie when they'd finished college. In her opinion, it had nothing to do with how exciting or boring the ceremony itself was, and everything to do with showing up for the people she loved when their hard work and accomplishments were recognized.

Showing up. That was something Melissa had traditionally had difficulty with, when it came down to it.

They hadn't even had a working phone number for Melissa last Christmas when Ahab had passed. Scully, tasked with handling everything while her mother waded through her initial shock and grief, had called every friend of Melissa's she could think of, trying to locate her sister, and had failed. She'd been reduced to sending a letter to Melissa's last known address in hopes it might get correctly forwarded. But it never got to her, as was evidenced three months later when Melissa had called home, chatted with Maggie cheerfully about her recent travels, and then had asked to speak to her father and had been completely lost when her mother had burst into tears.

"Free-spirited" had always been how the family had described Melissa. But deep down, in her darkest and most shameful thoughts, the word Scully sometimes landed on was "selfish."

Scully's cell phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She half-expected it to be Mulder, begging her to do another autopsy he couldn't trust with anyone else, but it was Roy Seekamp, a fellow FBI pathologist whose office in the Hoover building was next to Scully's.

"Where are you?" asked Roy. "One of the AD's came looking for you but your office is locked. Skinner, I think his name was?"

"I came home for lunch. What's going on?"

"Something big is going down in Virginia," said Roy. "Some hostage situation with an escaped mental patient."

Scully frowned, confused. "Why would they need me for that?" she asked.

"I don't think they actually need you or anything," said Roy. "The AD was just looking for you to let you know your old partner is there on the scene."

Scully's heart skipped a beat. "Mulder is there?" She got off the bed and raced out of her bedroom, tearing off the cardigan and snatching up her bag. "What's he doing there? He's not a hostage negotiator!"

"No idea," said Roy. "I think AD Skinner just wanted you to hear it from him. You coming back to the office?"

"Yes," Scully said, pulling on her shoes. "Be there soon." She ended the call and stuffed her phone into her bag, then looked down and realized she was still clutching her cardigan. She folded it in half and draped it over the back of her couch on her way out the door.

It stayed there, untouched, for over a month.

#my fic #x-files fanfic #Various Storms and Saints #Some of y'all are gonna HATE this #angst alert #Mulder/other resolving into MSR #JUST TRUST ME I WOULD NEVER STEER YOU WRONG

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Own The Pitch -P.G

Dear anon, I had a little trouble whilst writing, I had the "Publish" thing on and not the "Save draft" thing. So when I went to look for a Pablo pic, I pressed the button to "save" my work and it published 😭☠️ I had to delete it!🥴😭 I hope you see this and tell me what you think of the fic😊 I couldn't help but associate this request with Gender Reveal's world.

ALSO KNOWN AS GENDER REVEAL (5)!

Summary: It's time for Helena to own the pitch

You smiled watching your fourth year old daughter, Helena, run around the whole pitch with her father behind her as she tried to "escape" his ticklish hands, her laughter echoing the Camp Nou stadium as the guys celebrated another El Clásico win 5-1.

"Helena María, watch out, hija" You said watching how she stumbled a little not really paying attention to it but keeping on playing with her dad.

"She's crazy for Pablo"

"And she's also crazy for her uncle Pepi" Pedro laughed nodding

"How's baby?" You smile remembering the get together of three weeks ago

"Great! It's really good, other than a few morning sickness, constant cravings and several mood swings, we're incredible" You smiled discretly putting your hand on top of your non-visible stomach

Baby two was 15 weeks old, your tummy wasn't visible, barely starting to appear and it could be appreciated when you were on bra and panties, something that only Pablo got to see being honest and not always in a sexy way.

"What do you think it'll be?"

"A little angry bird has told me that he, along with all of the team, wants it to be a boy" He laughs "And I would like to be a boy too" You smile taking your hand off your stomach "But I won't mind either if it's a girl"

"As long as it's healthy" You nod smiling

"That's the most important thing"

"Mami, I can kick just like papi!" Helena said coming over to you both, high fiving Pedri and kissing his cheek, before grabbing your hand "Wanna see it?"

You wink to Pedri as he smiled ruffling your hair lightly, and you picked Helena up making your way towards where Pablo was playing with the ball

"Next female football player I heard?" He stopped playing looking at you both with a smile on his face

"Amor, you shouldn't-"

"Let me enjoy it while I can" You cut him off talking about lifting Helena up, he raised his hands lightly

"Papá, vamos a enseñarle a mamá mi tiro" She got out of your hold taking the ball from his dad's feet

"Ready, ladybug?" She nods and kicks the ball a little to hard because it goes straight to Pablo's face but he dodged it easily "Maybe try to not hit it that much, Lena" You laughed at his face

She did several times that shot until Ter Stegen came with a smile

"Nice shot, Lena. Think you can do a goal with me in front?" She looks at her dad

"Can I?" Pablo nods smiling

"It's the same like you play with me at home, ladybug. You think you can score against Ter Stegen?" She looks at you

"It's what you and daddy do all the time, bonita" You say smiling at her and then she nodded

"I think I can" She mumbles playing with her fingers while looking at Ter Stegen

"You think?" She furrowed her eyebrows not sensing the playfulness in Marc's words

"I know I can"

"Then let's do this" He clapped his gloved hands and winked at you both.

"Mami, can you tie my hair, please?" She asked after pushing it back several times only for it to end up on her face again. Pablo and you raised your eyebrows at each other surprised.

"She's tying her hair" You said laughing

"She got that from you" He said as you blushed, whenever you got competitive you pulled your hair up in a bun or ponytail.

"THE MISSY IS TYING HER HAIR UP!" One of the guys yelled "THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS!" You looked over and saw Alejandro Balde, being the owner of the attraction of the lads. Pablo joined and started talking to Helena on how to do shoot the ball into the net besides teaching her how to several times.

He spoke it the little girl's ear acting as if they were playing a real match, with the tapping their mouths with their hands and everything.

The guys were forming a circle and they were still a few of the fans recording the moment.

"Whenever you're ready, ladybug" Pablo said stepping backwards to be next to you, hugging you by the waist as you wrapped yourself against him watching your daughter prepare to shot.

She looked behind you and you both did thumbs up, she smiled and ran to kick the ball.

You knew that little girl had power in her legs whenever she kicked while being inside of you.

The ball flew flying hard at first but then it lost force, meaning Ter Stegen could easily stop her ball. But he didn't.

Instead, he throw himself a bit later, acting as he didn't know where it could go and preparing himself for it, to the floor letting the ball pass underneath his body by centimeters. The ball hit the back of the net and instantly roars were heard in the whole stadium. You and Pablo ran towards your babygirl, congratulating her as the guys cheered and hugged you three

"Helena owns the pitch!" Ansu had yell being followed by Robert, Pedri, Alejandro, Eric, Ferran, Torre, Raphinha and soon everyone was chanting it

"Looks like we've got a potential football player in our lives" Pablo said as you smiled nodding watching Helena in Ter Stegen's shoulders

"I never doubted her kicking skills" Pablo laughed knowing what you meant

"Hopefully this one isn't that hard on you"

"Are you kidding? I've got the feeling if it's a boy it'll be worse than ever" Pablo laughs hard once more shaking his head you felt him kiss your cheek

"I can't wait for Baby to be here with us" Pablo murmured as you hummed leaning into him "I can't wait for this to happen over and over again"

Your eyes locked with Helena's, her happy smile instantly making you smile and heart swell in happiness. You loved your family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

#M. is writing #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi angst #pablo gavi fluff #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi imagine #gavi icons #gavi fluff #gavi angst #gavi blurb #gavi smut #pablo gavi smut #this doesn't contain smut but still for the tags :) #pablo martin páez gavira #football players #gavi x reader smut #pablo gavi x reader smut

[loveheartarthur]

How would Arthur react if fem reader is a witch/sorceress? I don't know if magic is possible in Red Dead Redemption.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2dODceEwE0o&pp=ygUWeWVubmVmZXIgbW9kIHdpdGNoZXIgMw%3D%3D

𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . misunderstood reader . misunderstood arthur at first . tuberculosis talk . violence(?) aka gunshot talk . barely proofread

spunk - courageous and determined, confident etc

u were a witch. more specifically, a herbal witch. ur ancestors were witches too but they were massacred during the trials. if it wasn't for ur father before he passed away, god knows where u and ur mother would've been. but unfortunately, their teachings and knowledge could only go so far.. ur mother was sick, real sick. she had tuberculosis, one hell of a thing. u felt horrible, ur mother looked so... weak. u knew what was coming but u couldn't bare it. it always upset u more than you thought. she was always frail, fragile, even more soft-spoken than usual. u did everything u could to make sure she had a good remaining life.

u have some abilities. well, kinda. u knew how to help people with different herbs and herbal teas. it wasn't anything that unusual, u thought, but folk ain't too nice to u. in the near town of Emerald Ranch, they turned up their nose at u; thinking u were weird, strange, unusual. u thought u were just a normal young woman making her way through life. after making sure ur mother was all comfortable and well, u decided to take a trip away from home for more herbs and with that, u get onto ur hose and head off. nature was such a pretty sight. the flowers, plants, insects, animals... it was all so beautiful. u even saw a herd of deer, such innocent creatures they were. after a little while, u hitched off ur horse, took the lead began to walk to the edge of the river, sitting by a patch of different plants, picking off the ones u needed; ginseng, bay boylete, blackberry, burdock root, thyme...

"hey! ain't ya the witch?" a deep voice said, which had u stand up immediately and look to the direction of the sound. four men walked out into the open, giving u the time to study each other face and appearance. they looked rough, rugged even. this hasn't happened to u before. "i ain't no witch, gentlemen." u reply, a hint of sterness in ur tone. u weren't the type to back down from confrontation nor scared that easily. "that ain't what folk been tellin' us, missy." of course it's not, the folk in that town were mean, mean people. mean as they can get. they just didn't know u and didn't dare to. "though, yer quite easy on the eyes, little lady." another man said, which earned a low chuckle from the rest of them as they took few more steps toward u. ur stomach churned at the sight, this wasnt good. u trusted ur gut feeling and it told u this weren't right.. nowhere close.

this was a situation u didn't think u would ever be in.

swiftly, one man wrapped his arms around u, restricting the use for ur arms. that'll definitely leave bruises later on. and of course, u did ur best to get out of his tight grasp but that caused them to all laugh as u struggled. u were scared nonetheless u kept that feeling inside, not wanting to show that vulnerability. "let me go, ya fool!" u yelled, keeping ur tone stern and demanding. he turned to his friends with a chuckle "oh, this little lady has some spunk in her! i like that..." ur mind went wild, that wild and running miles per hour... u felt overwhelmed and a gust of strong electricity knocked them to their feet, away from u.

"goddamn it, she is a witch!" u heard one say and before u could do anything else suddenly two of them were shot down, seeing their sould leave their bodies. one mumbled a "shit." before he ran away, leaving the main there, alone. what the...? u didn't even do anything that time? "leave the woman alone, ye son of bitch." a deep authoritative tone was heard, slowly the mysterious man walked out, with a cattleman revolver in hand while he kept his aim fixated on the three men. to u, he seemed familiar. u couldn't put ur finger on it... he was tall, 6 foot tall at most, he was threatening too. he an growing beard since u noticed the small scar on his chin where the hair refused to grow. u kept ur distance from the men either way. "hey now, mister. we mean no harm t' the little lady... jus' bein' friendly." that was not being friendly, u and the man both knew it. a sudden shot was fired, hitting the man in his shoulder before his revolver shot back. one man down and the other survived...

after he holsters his revolver before turning to look down at u. "ye alright' there, young lady?" his tone was rough, deep. u looked up, studying his face for a moment, he was so familiar to u but u didnt realise why. he was likely older; in his middle thirties at least. "'m fine.. thank ya, mister." u finally replied. and then, u figure him out; ur eyes widen as u remembered, Arthur Morgan. u recognised him from the wanted: dead or alive posters. he was the threatening, ruthless man on the run, with a gang of outlaws. u backed off to ur horse slightly and once he realised it, he raised his hands up slightly in defence- his hand rough from years of work. "i mean no harm t'ya, miss. I know how it looks, but I ain't gonna hurt ya, promise ya that." u looked him up and down, arguing with ur own morals. he could be a dangerous but u couldn't argue exactly. folk thought u were dangerous too, maybe just as dangerous as any outlaw. his bleeding wound caught ur eye and u stepped towards him. "...yer hurt, look at yer shoulder, mister." u say, as ur inspecting his shoulder wound. u can fix him up, wounds were no match for ur special talents. "ah, its fine. dealt with worse." he says, dismissing his injuries like a small papercut but u weren't having it. "I'd like to help ya, 'm good at those things." u insisted, looking up at his blue-green eyes.

now u couldn't believe it. this was insane, u felt insane. u were back in ur home with ur mother in the other room. u were sitting on a chair, nearby with a table of little fabrics and a cup of herbal tea. u felt insane, bringing an injured wanted man into ur home... "dont mean to be rude but, what did ya do back there, Miss [name]?" he asked u, his voice rough but now he had a soft tone. u looked up from his shoulder, meeting his gaze. "what do ya mean, Arthur?" he took a moment, trying to figure out how to ask u out right. "back there, with the fellers... ya blew them off down right t'the ground." he continued in disbelief. he hasn't seen anything like it. he was confused, or he felt stupid, but he knew what he saw. now it was ur turn to take a moment, thinking of ur reply. what would u even say? "hey im a witch, but im not a bad person!" u felt so stupid ur gonna scare him off with whatever leaves ur pink lips anyway!

either way, u kept ur gaze to his wound as u spoke. "i ain't-... i ain't like most folk. i dunno, jus' not like that. 'm what ya would call.. a freak, a circus act. there is some things ya can't do that I can." u said, keeping ur tone calm as u began to clean his wound properly. he hissed slightly at the pain, u couldn't blame him. a gunshot wound was pretty painful. he processed ur words. he nodded at ur words, but he didn't seem to understand that well, but he had the spirits. "ya seem like a normal young lady, ya ain't no freak either. they're just fools. somethin' like that happens again 'nd I'll set 'em straight fer ya, okay?" u looked up at him, and ur heart skipped a beat. he was a nice man, a good man to u so far. "okay, Arthur... thank ya." and he nodded at ur words.

"anythin' fer a lady like ya." he replies while he adjusts himself in the wooden chair.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #i love arthur morgan

[baldeslut]

HEYYY HOW ARE YOUU!?!?? I will give you a requestt Can you do where the reader[his Gf] and Alejandro are doing matching outfits a week long and these posting it on sociales media or sum Maybe secret and fans go crazy about it finding it cute adorable ect. TAKE YOURE TIME BÉBÉ AND FINALLY SOME ONE WHO WRITES BALDE LUVV YOUU WITH MY ♥️♥️

HIIII im good thank u for asking😙 here u go!!

Matching

Warnings: none :)

It's nearing your 6 month anniversary dating Alejandro and he wanted to bring you out for the whole week until you guys' anniversary on Thursday

"Amor, I have some new clothes for you. Come try them on"

He dumps out whole bunch of clothing that almost looked the same. There was A LOT of it, knowing that your boyfriend was spoiling you with his money. You widened your eyes as you looked back up to him.

"Ale! This is too much for me!" You giggled as you ran your hands along the pile of clothes

"No amor! It for the both of us missy. For the whole week" Alejandro smiled as he picked up a shirt and a pair of jeans from the pile. "This will look so good on you bebe" He held the shirt infront of your torso as you chuckled at the huge smile on his face. He paired up all the clothes and put his to the side, you found a cute blue top that Alejandro knew you'd love.

"Can I try it on amor? I love this top as much as i love you" Alejandro blushed as he nodded

"Try all of them on amor, you look stunning"

You gave Alejandro a fashion show for about 30 minutes, you can tell he really enjoyed it. He hummed as you finished on the last set of clothes as he said a breathy ‘wow’. He walked closer as he tightly hugged you, your face engraved in his neck as he kissed your forehead.

“Lets rest up bebé, we will be out a lot tomorrow. I dont want you to be tired.” He frowned as he went to the washroom to change into his pjs to sleep. You changed into your pjs too as you flopped into bed with him.

“I love you bebé, rest well. I love you” Alejandro says as his breath hitched against the back of your neck.

“I will sleep well as long as im in your arms, I love you too Ale”

He spooned you as both of you guys dozed off to sleep.

You woke up to him waiting in the living room all ready, you thought you were late so you ran back to the room to quickly get ready.

“Amorrr, don’t be in a rush I’ll wait for you” he says giggling at you. You find the matching clothes hanging on the chair as you fix your hair, brush your teeth etc. “I’ll take a pic before we leave” He whispers as he wraps his arms around you, posing in the mirror. He posted it to his story with the text ‘mi amor🫶🏾💕’ and soon enough his phone was blowing up with notifications. You both were wearing a black hoodie with khaki cargo pants and air force 1s. His hand squeezed onto yours as you walled down the street going to the ice rink because he knew you loved to skate.

“But you don’t know how do skate bebé!?” I exclaimed as he pointed to the ice rink.

“Hmm maybe you will teach me then!” He giggles as you pouted. You both walk inside to find a pair of skates. He hands you his phone to take a pic of him falling down and laughing.

You post it on his story without him knowing with the caption ‘😭’

After an hour you guys went back to you guy’s place to rest up. Alejandro whispered into your ear reminding that both of your anniversaries are tomorrow. You nodded at his remark as his face was washed with pure excitement. You picked up your phone to set an alarm, you needed to get ready early, maybe even before Alejandro wakes up.

The alarm has woken you up as you drop out of bed, still tired you splash your face with cold water to wake yourself up. Alejandro would usually wake up 30 minutes later, at 8:00. You had your makeup and skincare done as well as your hair. You picked out a short black dress that would contrast along with Alejandro’s black button up and jeans.

He woke up seeing you on your phone, laying down on the couch as you smiled at him. He immediately blushed as he said

“Well someone is excited today, but i think im missing something. hmm?”

You rushed to your feet as you showered him in kisses all over his face. His skin felt blazing hot as your face brushed against his after you pulled away from his face. On his face was a huge smile as his eyes illuminated from the light.

He got back from his room, all ready and dressed as he asked me

“How do i look bebé?”

“I think you look so handsome, always”

He ran up to you as his arms wrapped around you. You held his hand as you got out of the house and celebrated your anniversary.

He posted a picture of him holding holding flowers on his insta captioned

“THE LOML🫶🏾🤞🏾💕💕”

The notifs blew up on the both of your phones as the day started to set.

@alejandrobalde.fanpage: OMGGG

@y/nxbalde: what a gentleman🥹

@fp_balde: so cuteee

@edibalde_: hermanitooo😏😏

@ansufati: lil bro is growing up🙏🏾

The both of you sat at a nearby shore as the soothing sounds of the waved and both of your laughs collided.

<3333

A/N it took me a while to write this cz im hashtag unmotivated😒 hoped u enjoy reading<3

#alejandro balde #alejandro balde blurb #alejandro balde imagine #alejandro balde x reader #alejandro balde x y/n #drabble #football boys #footballer imagine #alejandro balde one shot #alejandro balde x you #football fluff #alejandro balde fluff #alejandro balde fanfic #footballer x reader #footballer x you #footballer x y/n #footballer #sefutbol #visca barca #fc barça #barcelona spain #baldeslut

[eternalsa2z]

Gentle

Carson and Milo could never score with women. They were told they were too rough. Too harsh. Until they met Mindy, who offered to take them both and teach them to be proper partners for women.

The lessons focused on being softer. Putting on lotions to maintain a smooth, supple skin. Filing their long, unkempt nails into neat little ovals. Brushing out their wild hair until it was long and silky. Speaking more softly in a higher pitch.

Their wardrobes changed too. The wispy lacy of panties felt divine on their hairless skin. The caress of cashmere tops and satin skirts was addicting. It was all they could do to avoid rubbing their hands up their skinnier, more curvy bodies. Especially over the extra sensitive chests.

But Mindy taught them to be gentle, calling them 'good girls' when they performed prim and pretty actions. Cassie and Mira became addicted to that praise, to the primping, to how perfect and pristine they felt. They melted at Mindy's words as she remolded them into demure little missies.

It was only natural for two soft little angels to practice with each other. To kiss. To caress. To massage softly. Mindy would watch, guiding her good girls to gently interact, until the two were intertwined forever. A pair of loving lesbians tenderly embracing their fabulous softness together.

#bimboification #m2f transformation #sweet

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader : PINKY PROMISE?

A/N: Requested by anon 🫶🏼 also huge thanks to my buttercup @harlowcomehome for helping me on this. She always comes through 💚

You and your little family were camping for the weekend. Cassie had suggested going for a walk and throwing rocks into the river. But the moment she woke up, she was cranky and being short towards Urban.

You definitely found it amusing since that little girl lives and breathes daddy’s girl. So you were soaking this little attitude of hers up.

Plus, seeing the look on Urban’s face whenever she denied being near him was priceless. He was jealous at the fact that Cassie wanted to be near you instead of him.

“Okay Cassie, let me carry you down these rocks.”

She shakes her head “I want mommy.”

“Yeah well your mommy can’t carry you while she climbs over these. So I need to help you.” Urban reaches out for her but she goes to hide behind your legs.

You chuckle. “Cassandra, what is going on? Why don’t you want daddy to help you?”

“You help me, not him.” She looks up at you from behind your legs.

“Come here then, I got you.” You bend down to carry her and start climbing through the rocks, with Urban right besides you helping you move around them.

You were finally near the river and you let out a huge relief grunt “Finally, this nature thing isn’t for me. Keep me indoors next time please?”

“This was your idea, babe.” Urban chuckles.

“Yeah well you should’ve known that it was a bad idea with how much I hate hiking.” You glare at him, and set Cassie down so she can walk.

“Mommy, we throwing rocks?”

“Yes baby, but daddy will teach you okay?”

She rolls her eyes at that. “Why? I don’t want hims.”

“Cassandra, compórtate bien mija.”

“Ughh.” She walks ahead but not too far, just close enough that you can see hee stomping hee feet against the dirt.

You look at Urban and see he’s upset. “Hey.” You go towards him. “Why don’t you go smoke that blunt you have and I’ll see what’s up with the little attitude.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah, I need to find out what’s going on with her.”

You follow after Cassandra and finally stop in front of the little river.

“Okay missy, let’s pick up rocks while you tell me why you’re being mean to your father.”

“Momma he just rude.”

“Why? What did he do?” You’re concerned now, did she overhear something? What could he possibly have done to make her so upset.

“He did something bad and it not okay, I’m mad at him.”

“Do you mind sharing what he did to upset you mama? I promise to talk to him about it.”

She stands in front of you, her hands inside her sweat pockets.

She tells you why she’s upset and you chuckle at that. “Baby, he-“

“Okay I’m back.” Urban announces.

“I’m gonna looks for rocks.” Cassie whispers, but instead of doing that, she goes to sit down on a big rock and staring ahead at the water and sky.

You smile and turn your entire body towards Urban. “I know why she’s upset.”

“Why?”

“You ate her chocoflan.” You chuckle.

“What?”

“You ate the slice she was saving all day and when she was getting ready for bed she saw you sneaking out of the tent with it.”

“So she’s mad at me over that?.”

“Hmm.” You nod, “Our girl doesn’t play about her food baby, you should know this by now.”

“Yeah, she’s just like her mother.” He smirks. “I’ll be right back, I have to make sure my little girl is good.”

Urban walks over to Cassie, sitting beside her on the rock as she’s pouting.

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

“I guess, you’re already sitting” she pouts.

“Mommy told me that I may have upset you, is that right?” He’s scanning her face for emotions.

“It didn’t belong to you” her eyes get watery.

“Baby bug, I’m sorry. I was just really hungry” Urban stifles a laugh realizing how serious Cassie was taking this.

“What if I make sure to replace it when we go home?”

“Pinky promise?” She eyed her dad up and down, not sure whether she should immediately trust him or not.

“Pinky promise” Urban held his pinky out.

“Tio Jack said you always eat his stuff but he doesn’t get mad, but I do” she explained and Urban nodded before helping her off the rock to walk back over to where you stood.

“All good now?” You asked.

“Yupp, and I’m going to fight Jack when we get home” he mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing” he smiled.

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

TAG LIST

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#urban wyatt #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt x yn #urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt fanfic #jack harlow