#and then he fuckin ... realizes what's happening and is so startled

[beskarandblasters]

Fantasy Turned Reality

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Part two for A Twisted Fantasy

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist

Summary: The Ghoul finds you in the woods and punishes you for not running far enough.

Word count: 831

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, uneven power dynamic, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, irradiated creampie, spanking, pet names (sweetheart), praising, no use of y/n

You were so tired from all the running you did that you fell asleep in the same position; with your hand down your pants. But you didn’t even realize it until a stern voice shook you awake.

“Thought I told you to get the fuck away from here.”

You startle awake and lock eyes with the Ghoul, gulping as he cocks his head to the side, smirking at you menacingly. His eyes leave your face and trail down to the hand in your pants, chuckling as he asks, “What do we have here?”

“Nothing,” you quickly sputter, hastily trying to pull your hand away. But he stops you, his hand enclosing around your wrist.

“Not so fast. There’s three dangerous men after you and you’re worried about playing with yourself in the fuckin’ forest.”

Shamefully, you nod, looking away from him.

His other hand grabs your chin, directing your gaze back to him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

A shiver runs down your spine and the wetness in your cunt grows. Your fantasy may finally be coming to life.

“What were you thinking about?”

“…You.”

“Figures,” he tuts. “I can help you out regarding your little… situation. But first I think you need to be punished.”

“For what?!”

“For not running far enough away, sweetheart.”

He lets go of you, sitting on a large rock a few feet away. His thighs are spread wide in an inviting stance, leaving you aching to sit on his lap. He palms the bulge in his pants.

You sit up, jaw going slack at the sight of him sitting there. Your mind still can’t comprehend that this is actually happening.

“You know what to do,” he says, motioning for you to come closer.

You scramble to your feet, walking over to him and dropping to your knees. You’re face to face with his bulge, salivating at the thought of taking him in your mouth. He reaches out and caresses your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Be a good girl for me.”

You nod and reach for the fly of his pants, letting his cock spring free. You take him in your mouth and wrap your hand around the base of his shaft. He curses under his breath, moving the hand on your face to the back of your neck. You look up at him, locking eyes with him as you bob your head up and down. His salty pre-cum leaks in your mouth, mixing with your saliva and making this blowjob wetter and sloppier by the second.

“Fuck, that mouth of yours, sweetheart. It’s perfect.”

You hum in response, sending a vibration down his cock and a shiver up his spine. He curses again and his grip on the back of your neck tightens. You feel him grow harder in your mouth and feel pride in how much you’re pleasing him. You know you can escalate it further so you take your other hand and reach for his balls, cupping them slightly as you work him to the edge. Your eyes remain locked with his, putting on a show for him like such a good girl.

His balls tense up in your hand and you sense he’s at the edge of orgasm. But before you can take him there he cups your face and pulls his cock out of your mouth.

“Wanna come inside that sweet pussy of yours,” he says.

You eagerly stand up, shedding your clothes and waiting for further instructions. He remains where he is and pats on his lap, telling you, “Take your throne, sweetheart.”

You straddle him on the rock and lower yourself onto his cock, feeling it expand your walks. One of his hands holds your waist while the other gravitates to your ass. He gives you a firm spank and says, “Better get to work,” coaxing you to rock your hips back and forth.

You grind yourself against him, placing your hands on his shoulders. His cock hits the deepest, most perfect angles inside you. And he watches with pleasure as you fuck yourself on his cock.

With one last movement of your hips you come undone around his cock, moaning out into the nighttime air. He spanks your ass again as you cum until the sensation draws his own orgasm from him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises.

His cum paints your walls and finishes his orgasm with a grunt until his cock eventually goes soft inside you. Reluctantly, you pull yourself off of him and sit beside him. He turns to look at you with a grin and says, “Don’t worry, you won’t get pregnant. But I bet you knew that already.”

You nod, still breathless from your high. He returns his cock to his pants and stands up. With a hand on his hip he says, “Now, don’t let me catch you around these parts again.”

And with that, he leaves you naked and alone in the forest, with his cum dripping down your thigh.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x f!reader #the ghoul fanfiction #cooper howard x f!reader #fallout #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #the ghoul

[eff-plays]

#yes i know everyone's giffed this to hell and back #yes i know i don't have the paid camera mod (??) #but listen!! what i do have ... is LOVE #for that last shot in particular look at how soft and confused he is!!! #BABY!!! #and when they first move in for a hug he's like 'wtf are u doing. i'm pouring out my soul here and you're trying to get physical?' #and then he fuckin ... realizes what's happening and is so startled #ignore hira's poor tail clipping through their pants #bg3 #bg3 edit #astarion x tav #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #worsties to lovers #oc: hiraeth

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

-

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

-

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod mw22 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost imagine #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #fanfic

[strang3lov3]

Tis’ But a Scratch

Kinda brat tamer/dom! Joel x stubborn fem Reader

Summary: when you’re injured and refuse to accept Joel’s help, he decides to adjust your attitude.

W/C: 4.3k

Warnings: brat tamer joel kinda, dom!joel, smut, rough sex, blowjobs, orgasm denial. Slight dubcon. Degradation. A little bit of fluff, implied age gap, spanking, cream pie, a bit of come play. Descriptions of injuries, but not too bad! I’m super squeamish and was able to stomach it for the most part.

A/N: based on this request by @speckledemerald ! I had a lot of fun with it and did not expect it to take this turn, but you guys know me well enough to know I’m a sucker for some rough Joel smut!

Master list

As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. If you like this story, let me know! I am thankful for each and every one of you who support my work ❤️

The slam of the kitchen door behind you makes you jump, you feel your blood running cold. Joel’s an angry guy, but you’ve never been directly on the receiving end of his anger. At least, not this much anger. He is fucking pissed.

“Coulda’ gotten us fuckin’ killed. You realize that, right?” Joel spits out at you, chucking his backpack on the kitchen island sharply. You startle at the sound. His eyes are piercing and full of anger when you look at him. Hatred, even. You feel your heart drop to your stomach, fearful and full of guilt. “You never watch your fuckin’ back. Always dawdling or somethin’ else. You don’t take anything seriously, do you?”

He’s right. You know he is. “We’re fine, though. I was handling it,” You don’t know if your words are meant to be a comfort to him or yourself.

You and Joel were in an old store on patrol together, going through it to see what supplies you could scrounge up. Joel was constantly scolding you for not keeping up with him, not watching your back at all. He was sick of babysitting you, he told you. Too old for it, he said. You rolled your eyes every time he complained.

So yeah, handling it. That’s what you’re sticking with. When a raider snuck up behind you and your back was pinned to him in a bone crushing embrace, his knife pressed into your side. And all you could do was kick and scream for Joel and thrash your body. Handling it.

“Yeah?” he asks you, his tone sarcastic and full of venom. “Had it all under control, is that right?” Joel is pacing around the house, making sure there’s no other raiders or clickers. This is a known safe house, far away from any civilization.

You and Joel spent plenty of time here together, often playing cards or just talking. The last time you were holed up here together, he watched you closely. The way your eyes traced his face, how they traced every line and curve of his muscled body. You thought you hid your desire, but Joel knew better. He knew just how you craved him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you spit back, enunciating your words harshly. You’re lying, you know it and so does Joel. The truth is, if Joel hadn’t shot the raider in the head and dragged you out of there, you don’t know if you’d be alive to be having this argument right now. But you’ll never tell Joel that.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ a goddamn river into the fuckin’ floor right now,”

Your brows furrow. “What are you–” you trail off, eyes darting to your side. You didn’t think the raider actually stabbed you. You lift your shirt, and nothing. But then it catches your eye.

The adrenaline must have kept you from realizing what happened to you. The raider managed to knife the top of your left thigh pretty good, a long cut all the way across. You couldn’t tell how deep it went or what. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Blood everywhere. You know, that’s pretty fuckin’ close to your artery, genius,”

Don’t remind me, you think. Blood was never your strong suit. You press your hand into your thigh, your eyes flutter shut and your breaths become shallow when you see the liquid crimson painting your palm. Quickly, you walk to the couch in the living room and sit down with your head between your knees. You’re getting dizzy. “Just a scratch,” you mumble, to him or yourself, you don’t know.

“Get back here,” Joel barks at you. “You’re hurt. And I ain’t finished with you.”

You really don’t need Joel punishing you more than you’re already doing to yourself. You can’t take any more of his disappointed and angry looks. Any more of his words that cut so deep inside of your body.

“Fuck off,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself. Your vision is going spotty as you unbutton your jeans and push them down your legs, wincing as the rough fabric brushes over your wound. Your head is getting fuzzier, and Joel’s shouting something about other raiders being there at the store but you can barely understand him. He sounds miles away and underwater.

Joel follows you into the living room, reaching for your leg once he meets you at the dingy old sofa. It’s a dusty rose color with yellow and blue flowers. You kick his hand away and grit your teeth at the action. It fucking hurts. “Leave me alone, Joel. I’m fine,” your voice is weak and your eyes are getting glassy. Your lips lose their color. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” you pant.

“Oh, shit,” Joel whispers in realization, watching you lose yourself. He’s seen it all before. “You’re faintin’ again.”

Again.

You really didn’t handle blood well.

Once, Joel accidentally sliced his hand open trying to open an old can of fruit. You watched the entire thing and fainted right in front of him, ended up falling flat on your face. You have a scar on your chin from that night, now.

He spent the evening trying to bring you back to earth, feeding you the old fruit to get your blood sugar back up. Grumbling something about how you need to get it together if you’re gonna continue to be his patrol partner.

“No, I’m not,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You can’t admit defeat, admit that you should have been more conscious of your surroundings back at that old store, or else you wouldn’t be moments away from unconsciousness right now. You absolutely cannot let Joel win.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and crouches in front of you, trying to remove your hand from your thigh. You fight him, still. He can’t wrap his head around why you’re being so. Fucking. Stubborn.

“Stop it, Joel. I can take care of myself,”

Joel just grabs your wrist again, moving it away. You don’t have the energy to fight him off this time. “Let me see,” he mumbles. He takes in your injury, then leaves to grab his backpack. Once he’s situated, he begins his work. “Don’t need to be so proud. You’re hurt.”

He begins by pulling out a bottle of alcohol. You reach forward to take it from him, do it yourself. Deny him the satisfaction of picking up the pieces of the mess you’ve made of yourself, yet again.

He glares at you. “Knock it off,” he says gruffly. But you don’t, you just wiggle and avoid his touch. Pull away from him and push into his stomach with your foot. “Quit your squirmin’, for fuck’s sake. Too goddamn stubborn, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your cheeks go red at the pet name, your squirming comes to a halt. Joel takes notice of the effect his words have on you. “So that’s what it takes to get you to behave, hm? Call you sweetheart?”

He’s testing the waters…curious.

“No,” you lie. Yes.

There is an immediate change in the room, a tension between you and Joel in the atmosphere. It’s palpable, like you could reach out and grab it. Feel it between your fingers, even. Hot and heavy and impossible to ignore.

Joel reaches forward, covering your eyes with his hand. “Keep those eyes closed f’me, sweetheart. Don’t look. That’s it, now,” He removes his hand and your eyes are still closed, you know better than to look at the gore of your injured thigh. He continues, “Need to pull these pants down some more, alright?” You nod lazily in response, he pulls your pants down your legs and nudges your thighs apart. The cut goes further inward than either of you realized.

Joel gets to work then, dumping a bit of the alcohol over your wound. You groan and cry at the pain. It brings you back from your state of near-unconsciousness. “Fuck, Joel,”

He tries to ignore the little moans and fuck, Joel’s you let out as he disinfects your cut. “I know, I know,” he croons at you. “It’ll be over soon. Promise.”

He reaches for a rag and dumps some of his canteen’s water on it, then gently scrubs away the blood. He starts on the outside of your thigh and washes the blood off of your skin.

And then it happens. White-hot sparks of electricity deep in your core.

He reaches the inside of your thigh and accidentally brushes your center, covered only by the thin cotton of your panties. You let out a gasp in response.

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles. “Your wound is real close to yourself there. Might happen again.”

“No, it’s okay. I trust you,” you reply. And you do, but a part of you is hoping he touches you again.

“Doin’ so good f’me,” he mumbles, and his words have an intoxicating effect on you. Does he know what he’s doing to you? How he’s making you fall to pieces?

It does happen again. And again. And each time, you let out little gasps and moans. You almost wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, but you don’t mind. You wonder if he knows how aroused you’re getting with every brush of his fingertips.

He works for a while longer, then wraps up your wound with gauze. “All better now, sweetheart. I was feelin’ nice for some reason and didn’t torture ya with stitches, but I’ll check on it later and we might need to do some. Depends on how it’s holdin’ up, but I’ll be gentle if it comes to that,” He says softly, apologetically. His words are his olive branch extended to you, his apology for being too harsh with you in your injured state.

“Oh, how kind,” you bite back. And just like that, your feistiness has returned, you’re right back to being your stubborn and sarcastic self just like before. And you don’t really know why you build your walls back up, but you do. You’re not gonna take any pity from him. His words echo in your mind. Too proud. “I would’ve been fine without all your help, you know. And I won’t need any when we get back, so drop it.”

Joel’s soft gaze leaves and is replaced by another fiery look of offense. “Oh, fuck you. Jesus, would it kill you to say thanks?”

“Fuck you!” you spit. Joel blinks when your saliva hits his face, he wipes it from his cheek, then examines it on his palm. Slowly, he meets your eyes, his gaze dark and lustful. The tension in the air strengthens, you feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. You didn’t mean to spit on him, but you’re gonna stand your ground and not take any of his shit.

Joel rises to his feet, so big and radiating power and masculinity above you. “You wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice is low and dark, lacking any semblance of amusement.

“I, fu-” you stutter out. Your confidence is beginning to dwindle as you choke out, “Don’t need your fucking help. Don’t need to be a part of your fucking savior complex.”

Joel laughs dryly. You’ve really pissed him off now, you can see the pure hatred in his eyes. They’re icy cold, piercing right through you. “You’d better swallow your pride before I shove it down your throat myself, sweetheart. Sick of this attitude, you fuckin’ brat,”

“Make me,” you retort, challenging him. “How’re you gonna do that?”

You wonder just how far he’ll push you. What boundaries he’s gonna test…

“I don’t think you wanna find out, sweetheart. Not gonna be nice about it, I promise you that,”

“Big surprise,” you snarl, “There’s not one nice bone in your body. You’re a fucking ass–”

“Gonna start by fuckin’ that pretty mouth of yours, teach you a lesson,” he interrupts you. His voice is cool and collected, you watch his hands make their way to his front, he palms his growing erection. He eyes you questioningly for a moment, using them to ask you sincerely if this is okay. If it’s too much. You nod, understanding his silent question. He nods back.

You open your mouth to speak, but Joel wastes no time shutting you up. “You suck my dick like a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider makin’ you come. But I’m not feelin’ very generous yet,”

“What are you talking–” you trail off, watching Joel unbuckle his belt with his swift and deftly moving hands.

“You’re drippin’ for me, darlin’. Didn’t think I noticed? Could practically taste it,”

Your body betrays you and you let out a whimper at the thought of Joel’s tongue in your pussy. How he’d explore your folds with the firm and wet muscle. Joel chuckles in amusement, freeing his cock from the constraint of his jeans. He takes one imposing step in front of you, his thick and hard cock is held loosely between his thumb and his pointer and middle fingers.

“Not so tough now, hm? Not when your pleasure’s on the table, I see. Selfish fuckin’ brat,”

“Joel,” you moan. He shuts you up by shoving his cock in your mouth in one swift motion, your lips part around the soft and smooth flesh of his tip. He’s slow at first, making sure you can take it. When he’s satisfied with your readiness, he shoves it as far down your throat as you can comfortably take.

“Fuck, that’s all you needed. God, sweetheart. You’re so much nicer with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” he groans, his hands finding your scalp. He tangles his fingers through your hair and pulls gently, when you moan he tugs your hair roughly.

You hum in response, wrapping your hands around his upper thighs and squeezing his ass. He pushes them away with force. “You just don’t get it do you, you poor dumb thing? You take what I give you now, girl. Don’t be greedy,”

His words send pangs of desire through your body, you’ve never been so aroused in your life. His cock is hard and heavy on your tongue, and with each powerful thrust of his hips your nose nudges that tuft of dark hair surrounding his member.

“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. Your eyes are blown wide, tears pricking the corners. There’s spit dribbling down your chin and you look completely fucking ruined.

The dull ache between your thighs grows stronger, and ever so subtly move your hand to your center. Or so you think. Just before you can press your fingers to your clit, Joel pulls his dick from your mouth and grabs your wrist in a vice grip.

“God, you just don’t fucking learn, do you? I told you to suck my dick like a good girl,”

“I did, Joel,” you whine in protest. You move your other hand to your center in hopes of relieving the pressure, but he grabs that one too.

“God, you’re dumb. No, you didn’t. You didn’t listen, didn’t take what I was givin’,” he yanks you up by your wrists, drags you to the arm of the couch and shoves you. Hard. “So I’m gonna take what I want from ya now. And you can cry and beg as much as you want, and I still won’t let you come. ‘Cause you can’t follow simple directions.”

Your stomach drops, you realize just how serious he is. He’s gonna use you and toss you aside, leave you crying for release. “Joel,” you cry. He’s breaking you down.

“No point in cryin’ now. Just shut your mouth like a good girl and take my cock,”

You move to face him, but he turns you back in place. “Bend over,” he demands.

When you don’t jump at his command, he shoves you again, forcing your chest down into the arm of the couch. He roughly tugs down the fabric of your panties, and then you feel the sting of his big hand striking your ass, red hot pain spreading over your cheeks. “Fuck,” you yelp in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Shut up,” he tells you sternly, massaging the stinging flesh of your ass. It’s a gentle reminder he’s still here. “God, you’re stupid. Poor thing. How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?”

You let out a moan in protest and he smacks your ass again. “Spread your legs. No back talking, now. Be a good girl and open wide for me. That’s it,” he croons as you shuffle your feet apart.

He drags his cock through your folds, purposely stopping just before your clit, denying you any sort of relief. He slips the tip of his cock in your pussy, then without warning, pulls you onto his cock. Hard.

You cry out and he shushes you, reminding you to keep quiet. He repeats the motion again and you bite your lip to keep your noises suppressed.

He fucks you with both hands on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin, surely decorating you with bruises. The room is filled with the noises of his heavy breathing and skin slapping skin, as well as the wet squelching of your pussy.

“Fu-” you start, moving a hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s it,” he breathes in approval. “Quiet.”

You bite back moans, feeling your stomach tighten. You’re getting close, just need a bit more.

His cock begins to pulse inside of you, his once calculated thrusts now sloppy and frenzied. “Feel that?” He asks. “Gettin’ close, now. Almost over, sweetheart. See what this pussy’s doin’ to me?”

You can’t help the wail that falls from your lips. You’re in agony, you need to come. And after this, you don’t know if you’ll be able to relieve yourself. Your fingers will never compare to his cock, you’ll never be able to match the pace or power with which he fucks you.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” He taunts you. “Breakin’ the rules again, you know. Do I need to remind you how good girls act?” He rubs a hand over your ass in warning, tapping his fingers on the swollen and still stinging flesh.

You shake your head no. It’s painful, the way he’s punching into that sweet spot deep inside you. So close yet so far from your orgasm.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I want you to nod your head yes or shake your head no, got it? Still don’t want you makin’ any noise,”

You nod in anticipation of what he’s going to ask of you. He’s still fucking you at a punishing pace.

“Been thinkin’ that you’d look real pretty comin’ all over my cock. Don’t you think?”

You nod again.

“Unfortunately, baby, you’re not allowed to. Which is a goddamn shame, of course,” he mumbles, his thrusts coming to a slowed pace.

He continues, “I was thinking if you said the magic words, I might make it all better for you,”

You whimper at the prospect of release, then quickly swallow your moans.

“You know those words, right baby? Please, thank you. Manners,”

You nod again, pushing your ass back into his groin. He swats at you with his hand, but not terribly hard. Just a gentle warning.

“Maybe all of this could have been avoided if you said ‘thank you Joel’. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this position, practically beggin’ me to let you come,”

You nod in response, not willing to argue any longer. “Say thank you for my cock down your throat. Did you a favor, anyway. God knows you needed to shut up,”

“Joel, fuck. I need to come,” you rasp out, breaking his rule.

“Say thank you, sweetheart. Come on now, mind your manners,” God, how sexy and low his voice is.

You don’t thank him. Not yet. You won’t thank him, not until he breaks down every ounce of fight left in you.

He slaps your ass once more, then moves his hand to your clit, gingerly rubbing light circles into the sensitive bud. Teasing you. “Thank you, Joel,” he instructs you to say. “Thank you for your cock.”

You ignore him still.

He pulls you off his cock, whips you around to face him and looks deep into your eyes, notching the tip of his cock in your pussy once more. He begins pushing all the way in. “Say it.” He says in a taunting tone, elongating his words. His thumb is on your clit again, and he’s thrusting in and out of you slowly. “I’m givin’ you an out here. Just say those words f’me.”

You groan in frustration. Are you really going to give in?

“Come on, sweetheart. Know you need it. Look at the fucking mess you’re makin’, needy thing. Soakin’ my cock,”

And there it is again, that sickeningly sweet pet name he so affectionately calls you. Fuck it, you decide.

“Thank you,” you whisper, finally. Repeating what he wanted to hear you say for him.

“For what?”

The words kind of just slip out of your mouth, “For taking care of me,” you admit.

Joel’s movements falter, and he looks at you with a puzzled expression. It’s not at all what he thought you were going to say, what he wanted you to say, but nonetheless he’s pleased that he’s managed to fuck away some of your pride. He just smirks knowingly, pulls you in close and kisses you.

It’s sweet and slow, he’s taking his time massaging your tongue with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he murmurs against your lips, fucking you again. He’s rubbing concentrated circles into your clit and continues. “Not so hard, hm? Just listen to me and let me take care of ya. However I want.”

You nod feverishly and pull yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His skin is hot and sweaty under your fingertips, the circles he’s tracing into your clit have your stomach tightening and your face contouring in pleasure. You’re right there, he can feel it. He’s not far behind.

“You earned it, baby. Let go now,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear.

And with that, you come harder than you ever have. His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, he keeps fucking you through it. “Joel,” you moan. “Oh, fuck. I’m there, I’m there.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. Ride it out with me. I’m right there with ya,” he assures you, his thrusts becoming frenzied as he chases his own orgasm. His neck and cheeks are flushed red, and in mere moments, he’s pulsing inside you, spurting hot and thick ropes of his seed that paint your insides. It’s a delicious feeling, one you’ve been craving for a while now.

He’s panting on top of you, his forehead pressed to your own, slick with sweat and sticky hair. You’re still holding onto him for dear life, catching your breath. He pulls out of you slowly, watching the mixture of your come drip on to the rosy couch. He pushes it back inside your worn pussy with his fingers, then brings them to his lips and licks them clean.

You giggle, your head dropping to his shoulder. He holds you like that for a moment, letting you steady yourself.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he speaks softly. “Didn’t mean to get out of hand. You okay? How’s your thigh?” His voice is full of concern, his hands on either side of your face. His eyes are sparkly and the darkest brown, the crease between his brows a little more prominent than usual. “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it,” you admit sheepishly, assuring him that everything is okay. You’re slightly embarrassed. Who knew you were such a freak? “My thigh is…I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a scratch.”

He says your name sternly, shooting you a warning look. “Let me see it. Can’t trust you,”

“Fine,” you concede, biting back a grin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered by his concern, the way he’s fawning over you.

He bends down in front of you, gently pulling back the gauze. Your wound is a little irritated in the rigorous fucking you and Joel participated in, but was mostly okay. He decides to clean it and wrap it again in new gauze, telling you he’s not wanting to risk infection. “So,” he starts undressing your wound. “Gonna listen to me from now on, right?

You nod your head. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off, “I know you didn’t. Just need you to be careful, okay? Need you to listen to me. I’m lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,”

You wince in pain when he dumps more alcohol on your wound. “I just…I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I know you can. I know,” he says. Part of him wants to argue more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he silently works, wondering why you buck him on this, why you refuse to ask for help or admit you may need it. Whether it be on patrol or when you’re hurt, or fainting in front of him because you can’t handle a bit of blood. Thank god you’re never on nursing duty at the infirmary. He won’t press you anymore, though.

You share a moment of silence together, both unsure of what to say. What does this mean for your relationship in the future? Joel finishes wrapping your wound, and helps you stand up on shaky legs. He dresses himself, then tosses you your clothing. When he reaches for your pants, his hand falls through the massive hole on the thigh from where the raider knifed you

“Just a scratch, my ass” he mumbles, you hear the smirk in his voice. “Just a flesh wound, right?”

You smile as he tosses you the tattered jeans. “Yup. Just a flesh wound,” you say as you dress yourself again.

Joel leads you to the door, silently letting you know it’s time to get back to Jackson.

“You don’t even understand that reference,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Jesus, kid.”

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #dom!joel miller #brat tamer!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal #tlou

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Body Like a Back Road

Request: Joe Burrow and reader go on spontaneous road trip during off season.

Warnings: smut (fingering, intercourse), language, mentions of a funeral

A/N: my second stand alone Joe fic! Enjoy!

"In 500 feet, turn right". The voice of the GPS startled you out of your nap, your head knocking against the window as the car went over a pothole. "Ow!" You pressed a hand to the side of your face, grimacing at the sharp pain. Joe snickered as he glanced over at you, his hands flexing open and closed as he balanced them on the top of the steering wheel. "Good, you're awake."

"Where are we?", you grumbled out as you stood up, stretching your arm over your chest in hopes of getting the knot out of your shoulder from sleeping against the door. There were no signs to indicate your current location, and for the past eight hours, everything out of your window looked the same, nothing but trees along each side and the open road.

"We're just outside of St. Louis. At least according to the GPS, but I think I made a couple wrong turns about an hour ago, so I know fuck all where we are." Joe bit at his thumb nail, something he always did when he was stressed. "Great." You whispered, leaning your head against the window. The vibration of the car was lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids growing heavy.

The season was finally over, and after a less than stellar year, Joe was going stir crazy sitting around with nothing to do. He could only hit the gym so many times a day and watch game tape over and over before it started to get boring. When you mentioned to him that you had to travel to Denver to attend the funeral of one of your distant cousins as a favor to your mom, he offered to tag along with you, and against your better judgement you said yes.

Going to a family funeral was something that a boyfriend did for their girlfriend, not for their fuck buddy. You didn't want to give Joe, and honestly, you're own heart, the wrong idea about where you stood, but the thought of making a 17 hour drive alone sounded like torture.

Your relationship with Joe was...complicated, to say the least. You had been friends through college, and for the longest, it was nothing more than that, but when you both ended up in Cincy, Joe was drafted to the Bengals and you had just settled in the city with your first big-girl job, it became something more. You were both lonely, living in a new place, and you leaned on each other for support.

The first time you slept with Joe, you considered it a fluke, a slip up that could easily happen between friends. After months of consistently ending up in bed together, you realized that the two of you were in too deep. Now, a couple years later, it had become more habit than anything else, and you weren't even sure if you could call yourself friends as much as you had become a source of comfort for one another. You knew it was best to end it before anyone got hurt, but for some reason, you just couldn't.

Joe slapped your thigh, making you jump. "Hey, I need you to stay up. This GPS is useless."

"In 200 feet, turn left onto Franklin Street."

"Franklin Street?!" Joe gestured wildly to the left of him. "There is no fuckin' Franklin Street! Does she want me to drive into the woods?" Joe scoffed as he leaned back in his seat. You leaned forward to see there in fact was no Franklin Street, chuckling to yourself. "Don't let her get to you, J. You know she's not real, right?"

"Ya know what...its not even the GPS, its your damn car. Piece of junk." He slapped the console, the volume dial falling out of place. You grabbed it, shoving it back onto its slot. "Hey, Darla has been there for me since I was 16. She is a classic." Truthfully, Darla was hanging on by a thread, and the last time you brought her to a mechanic they offered you $200 for her to use for scraps, but you didn't have the money for a new or gently used car right now, and as long as you didn't go over 50 mph, she drove fine.

"A classic piece of shit", he mumbled under his breath, earning a slap on the arm from you. "Shit!", he rubbed at his chest, "do you wanna drive? 'Cause I can pull over right now."

"Funny, because she wasn't a piece of shit all of the times we were doin' it in the backseat." You propped your feet on the dashboard.

"Yeah, good times." Joe's ran his fingers through his hair nervously, his face starting to heat up. He was glad you went back to sleep so you couldn't see him start to sweat.

"Wake me up when we get to Kansas." You grabbed Joe's hat from the dashboard, pulling it over your eyes to block out the evening sun.

****

The next few hours went by like a dream as you went in and out of consciousness, listening to Joe's terrible singing along to the Hamilton soundtrack as he managed to eat through all of the snacks you packed for a two day drive.

You took in a deep breath as you woke up to darkness, the overhead light blinding you as you rubbed your eyes to try to focus your vision. As soon as you noticed you were alone, the driver's door was wide open, and Joe was gone, you began to panic.

"Joe! Joe, where are you? This isn't funny!" All horror movie protocol went out of the window as you unbuckled and climbed out of the car.

"Joe!" Silence. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and turned on the flashlight as you rounded the back of the car, illuminating the eerie thicket of trees you were parked next to. "Joe, I swear to God, if you're hiding somewhere I'm gonna kill you." You took a step forward, jumping as you heard a twig snap beneath your feet. You held your breath, feeling your pounding heartbeat in your ears as you listened for any sound of life. Again, silence.

"You know what? I'm just gonna assume you're already dead and keep it pushing." You called out to the open. You had seen Friday the 13th enough times to know there was no way you were going to outrun anyone. You turned back to the car, noticing a figure flash by out of the corner of your eye.

"BOOO!!" Joe jumped out from behind the car, his arms swinging above his head to appear terrifying. You collided with him, bouncing off of his strong frame, and landed on your ass.

"Ha! You should have seen your face!" Joe bellowed over with laughter as you stood and dusted the dirt off of your pants, a scowl on your face. "Fuck, that was so worth it." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

You shoved him, hard, making his back hit the car. "What the hell were you even doing? Why did we stop?" You opened the trunk and grabbed a sweatshirt out of your bag, feeling the chill on your skin as the temperature dropped after dark. "Had to take a piss."

"I feel like we've been driving forever. How far to the motel?" You were beginning to get cranky, your empty stomach contributing to your sour mood. "Still got another two hours until we get to Kansas City and stop for the night." You both got back into the car, but as Joe tried to turn the engine, it only sputtered a couple of times before dying out.

"C'mon", Joe groaned, cranking the key again to no avail. 'Fuck!" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, hitting the horn. "Your piece of shit car died, Y/N."

"Its not Darla's fault, you probably made her mad stopping in the middle of nowhere."

He pressed his forehead to the wheel. "Please tell me you have roadside assistance."

"Um...define "roadside assistance"?" You had AAA at one point, but let your membership expire when you couldn't afford the monthly payment anymore. "Y/N! What if I wasn't here?! You would have been stranded in the middle of Kansas by yourself with no way to get help!" Joe didn't mean to yell at you, but just the thought of you being out here alone was stressing him out.

"Good thing you're here, then." You harmlessly placed a hand on his thigh to reassure him as you scrolled the internet for tow trucks. Neither of you realized that Joe had grabbed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers. As you rose your head, feeling him massaging your fingers mindlessly as he stared ahead, you felt your stomach flip. "Joe", you uttered out, waiting for him to look at you.

"Oh, sorry." He snatched his hand back, running his fingers through his blonde locks. He didn't even realize he had done it. You were his safe place, and touching you brought him comfort in a way that he really didn't understand himself. You were no stranger to his touch, but it was always in the name of getting off.

"I think I found a place a couple miles away. ETA is...2 hours." You let out a frustrated sigh. Waiting two hours for a two truck meant you weren't going to see a shower or bed anytime soon. You desperately wanted to wash this road trip off with the hottest water a hotel shower could produce.

Joe leaned his seat back, the worn leather creaking underneath him as he sunk down, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "What are you doing?", you asked, shifting in your seat to face him.

"What does it look like?"

"You can't fall asleep. What if some monster comes and snatches me out of my window?" You were partly kidding, partly terrified that would actually happen. "That's not gonna happen", he huffed, "I'm not that lucky." You scoffed, throwing your feet over his lap. "You need to stay up and keep me company. Those are the rules of the roadtrip."

"Please. I just drove eight hours, five of which you were asleep."

"Joe, please. Just until the tow truck gets here."

"Fine. Tell me about your cousin. Were you close?", Joe hummed, scratching his nose. "Technically she's my mom's cousin, and no, I've never met her. My mom was close with her at one time, but they lost touch years ago. I'm just going to represent the family."

Joe opened an eye to peek at you. "You're going all the way to Denver for someone you've never met?"

"Why do you sound so shocked? I can do things out of the kindness of my heart." You clutched your chest dramatically, but Joe just chuckled, dropping his shoulders in a sigh. "It's just... ya know what? Nevermind."

"What? Tell me."

"Its just...are you sure that's all that it is? In all the time I've known you, you do things out of comfort. I'm not saying its a bad thing, but this isn't like you." He was looking at you know, his blue eyes illuminated by the orange hued overhead lighting. He was staring into your soul, like he was trying to pull something out of you, and you squirmed underneath the scrutiny.

Your head snapped when you saw a pair of headlights coming down the road, but it was just a passing car. "We have had sex in this car so many times, because you don't even want to come to my place most of the time." You turned back to Joe, whose eyes were closed again.

You bit at your bottom lip. You never realized anyone was paying attention to you that closely, especially not Joe. "I've been thinking a lot about the things I've settled for in my life, and this felt like a breath of fresh air, something different. I'm going a funeral, but I'm also getting out of Ohio for a minute."

Your words hit Joe like a ton of bricks. He quickly sat up. "Are you thinking about leaving Ohio?"

"Eventually", you shrugged. "You didn't think I'd be there forever did you?" you giggled, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "I mean, I guess, I- didn't give it much thought." Joe let in a sharp breath to stop his fumbling. He did think you'd be there forever, or at least, he always thought you'd be there as long as he was.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find a new fuck buddy", you said in jest, crossing your legs one over the other. Joe felt his throat go dry, his skin crawling in the silence. He was desperate to change the subject and get his mind off all of the terrible possibilities. "How much longer?"

You checked your phone. "Still got another hour. I'm starving. Did you really eat all of the snacks?" You sat up and crawled into the back of the car to search the bags you packed. "Really, Joe, even my Cheetos? Aren't you on some sort of athlete diet?" You threw the empty bag at him, the plastic hitting him in the face. "I was hungry." He tried to go to the sleep to the sound of you rummaging behind him.

"Hey, look what I found." Joe opened his eyes to see a gold-wrapped condom dangling in front of his face. "I have an idea of how we can pass the time", you whispered in his ear, making him shiver. "If you're not too tired."

"Fuck it." With a grunt, he ripped the condom out of your hands, and took it between his teeth as he unbuttoned his jeans. You frantically climbed to the front, stripping off your sweatshirt before climbing over him to straddle his legs. You turn off the overhead light, moonlight pouring over both of you through the window.

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you pulled him in for a messy kiss, your skin on fire even though seconds ago you were freezing. As you made out, his hands trailed around your waist, inching closer and closer to your spine before his large hands slid down the small of your back and grabbed rough handfuls of your ass, his fingers digging into your delicate skin as your back arched.

He began to move your hips slowly back and forth, making you grind against his pelvis, but he was going too slow for your taste, so you grabbed at his hands, circling your hips against him with an eagerness that had his hips bucking from sensitivity. You could feel him grow hard quickly against your inner thigh, letting out little moans into your mouth as your lips lingered together.

'Y/N, honey-", Joe could barely get the words out, his chest heaving with each breath. "What?", you huffed out without losing your pacing. "What's the rush?", His brow knitted together in pain as his cock rubbed against his zipper. "The tow truck is gonna be here any minute." Joe nodded, holding you in place. You backed away from him, pushing the hair that was stuck to his face with sweat out of his eyes. "We're having sex. I'd like to have use of my dick afterwards, okay?"

You giggled, pulling him by the collar of his shirt for another kiss, alternating between sucking on his top and bottom lips. You moved your hips again, this time with more control, focusing on the friction against your clit with each movement. "Better?", you questioned, only earning a moan from Joe. You could feel yourself growing wet, your panties soaked as you built your orgasm off of friction alone. Joe fumbled with the button of your shorts, sliding his hand down your front, feeling the wetness pooled against the cotton fabric.

"Shit, I didn't realize you were so ready." He toyed with the band of your panties, snapping the elastic against your skin. "Take these off." You lifted yourself off of Joe's lap, settling in the passenger seat, and shuffled your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them into the back seat. Joe pulled you back onto his lap, eliciting a squeal from you, and in a single breath, he has you writhing on top of him again, his thumb pressing against your clit as he draws agonizingly circles around the sensitive bud.

"Fuck, fuck, don't stop." You hiss, guiding his fingers to drag through your drenched folds, humping against his hand. He slides one of his large digits inside of your pussy, feeling you clench around him, your muscles pulsing as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He slips another finger inside, and you feel the stretch, taking deep breaths as he hooks his fingers and strokes against your cushiony ceiling.

Watching your face contort with pleasure, your chest bouncing in front of him with your head thrown back has him at a loss for words, desperate to get his hands on every inch of you. He helps you get your shirt off over your head, reaching behind your back to easily unclasp the hooks of your bra with his free hand, exposing your budding nipples to the cold air.

Joe leans forward, flicking his tongue against your nipple, and ghosting wet kisses between your breasts. You move back instinctively when he nips at your skin, but he pulls you aggressively back, hungry to feel you in his mouth again. "Feels so good, baby." Expletives are rolling off your tongue as he sucks harder on your nipples. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingernails raking against his scalps as he moves down to your stomach, pressing a kiss right above your belly button as you lean against the steering wheel.

He pulls out of you, your wetness glistening on his fingers. Without hesitation, you take both of his fingers into your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. "You look so fuckin' beautiful like this", he grunts out, his mouth slightly agape as he watches you. Instead of your usual bashfulness at his dirty talk, you hold eye contact with him, your eyelids heavy with lust as you lick him clean, popping his index finger against your lips as you pull them out.

"Fuck, lift your hips." He instructs, racing against his internal clock, like he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't have you now. You do as he says, cupping your chest as he fumbles for the discarded condom, finding it in the cupholder. He unbuckles his belt and pushes his jeans and boxers down to his knees, his pink cock springing free and resting against his lower stomach. You salivate at the engorged vein that travels from the base of his cock to the tip, which is leaking pre-cum.

"Hurry up!" You playfully push him, turning to look over your shoulder for any tow trucks or stray cars, but its obvious the two of you are alone out here. He rips the foil wrapper with his teeth, and removes the condom, rolling it down his length. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock as you slowly sink down on him, taking him inch by inch until you bottom out with a loud moan. "Oh, fuck."

He pulls at the manual recline handle and goes flying back, landing against the backseat with a thud, hitting the back of his head against the headrest. "I fuckin' hate this car", he mumbles, quickly forgetting about the ancient vehicle and his injury as you begin to bounce on his dick, the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs audible, quickly drowned out by the squelching of your wetness as he slips in and out of you.

Joe can't focus on anything but how good you feel and how good you look on top of him, your silhouette illuminated in the moonlight, his hands grazing against the curve of your waist and hips. You feel your legs start to fatigue so you lean forward, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles underneath your palms.

He takes the opportunity to worship your body as you ride him, placing kisses on your arms and chest while you're too blissed out to even notice. "So fuckin good, baby. You're doin' so fuckin' good", he praises you over and over, which has you hurdling toward your orgasm, feeling the coil tighten in your core.

"Joe", you whimper out, your pace slowing as you tire. "I've got you", he remarks, sliding his hands underneath your thighs to hold you up while he snaps his hips into you, making you take him to the hilt each time. He strokes your g-spot in perfect succession each time and you're sure you won't last much longer. "I'm-I'm gonna cum." You bite out, your words vibrating through your bouncing chest, your nails digging into his pecs, leaving red marks. He increases his pace, hitting against your cervix, the car squeaking and shaking side to side as you come undone, your release washing over you with waves of pleasure.

Joe's right behind you, his face scrunched tight as he feels every muscle in his body contract, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum", he warns just in time, and you pepper kisses against his jawline as his hips stutter. You try to kiss him, but he can only draw in sharp breaths as he releases into you, residual muscle pulses from your orgasm milking him for every drop.

Completely spent, he draped an arm around your back, pulling your weight down on his body. Your chests heave in succession as you come down from your high and try to catch your breath. You lazily kiss his cheek with a smile. "Fuck, that was-"

"I love you." You both were silent, the declaration hanging in the air. Joe was shocked at the words as if they didn't come out of his own mouth. You lifted your head to look at him, your hands still clamped around his face. "What did you say?"

"What?" Joe responded, in immediate denial. He tried to look away, but you turned his head back to you. You heard your phone vibrating in the passenger seat but you ignored it, unable to take your eyes off of him. His face was soft, genuine, his eyes very telling. He meant what he said.

Your phone vibrated for a second time. "Its probably the tow truck. You should get that." Joe was desperate for a reprieve. "Yeah." You shook your head and climbed off his lap, grabbing your phone to answer it. "Hello? Yes, we're around mile marker 152. Okay." You hurriedly put your clothes back on, Joe watching you through the rear view mirror the entire time. He could physically see you trying to process what had just happened, and he honestly wished he'd never said anything. He wasn't sure if he loved you, he was too lost in the moment, thinking with his dick instead of his head.

"They'll be here in five." Your words jogged Joe out of his trance. He nodded and got out of the car, desperate for air. You needed to talk about what happened, but right now, you just wanted to focus on getting your car towed and getting to the nearest hotel so you could get some sleep.

The ride in the tow truck was uncomfortably quiet. You rested your head against the window, your arms crossed over your chest to create as much distance between the two of you as possible, desperate to close your eyes even for a few minutes. Joe glanced over at you multiple times in the short five mile ride to the hotel. He raked a hand through his messy hair, moving to stroke his jawline, the guilt of catching you off guard and professing his love for you in the heat of the moment, gnawing at him.

The hotel was very basic, no amenities and didn't even a continental breakfast, and wasn't really up to Joe's standards, but it was the only one in town, so he'd settle for it just for the night. He stood in the lobby and watched you as you checked in, making light conversation with the desk attendant.

Maybe if he just denied it, or avoided talking about it, you two could move past this, and it could all be a bad memory.

He felt a lump build in his throat as you walked toward him. Seeing the distress on your face, he knew there was no way you were getting over this anytime soon. "Look, Y/N-"

Your face was stoic as you threw your bag over your shoulder. You shoved a key card in his direction without a word. "Goodnight, Joe." He watched you walk away, flipping the key card in his hand.

What the hell had he just done?

Tag-List:

@wonderlandiswhereitsatyo

@bernelflo

@wickedfun9

@brrbrina

@zobellagio

@tallrock35

#joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joey burrow #joey b #nfl imagine #nfl fanfiction #nfl fanfic #nfl smut #joe burrow smut

[bbyseok]

thinking about boss pro hero!bakugou and being his assistant in his hero agency. i’m sure there’s plenty of posts about it but i can’t just get it out of my head..

you’re at your designated desk, zoning out with thoughts about a certain blonde who so happens to be your boss—the very same blonde who’s interrupting your daydreaming to glare down at you.

you don’t know how long he’s been standing there—and he just stares at you. with a yelp, you straighten and sit up in your chair, wheels rolling against the carpet.

“dynamight!” you greet him hastily and flash up a sheepish smile, hoping you hadn’t embarrassed yourself. “sorry, i- uh, do you need help with something?”

“no, i just-” he clears his throat and that’s when you realize with a startling squint that he’s blushing. “i asked if- if you could take tomorrow off.”

before you can actually form words and reply to his sudden request, he winces very subtly and his blush deepens. “wait, ‘m your fuckin’ boss. you have tomorrow off,” he states matter-of-factly.

you blink in surprise, mind absolutely whirling. “i- i don’t understand?”

bakugou’s face is unreadable; his resting bitch face is present even during this confrontation—but the only difference is the pink dusting his cheeks. “there’s a katsudon restaurant a couple streets down from the agency. you better be there after my afternoon patrol is done.”

you’re pretty sure your jaw almost hits the floor. “what? i- uh, huh?”

he stares hard for two seconds before he’s scoffing and crossing his arms. “you heard me.”

you did. you really did hear him—but you’re not entirely sure that you’re not being delusional with your head in the clouds. is he.. asking you out?

albeit, not directly, as the man was practically demanding you to meet him somewhere out of the workplace.. in what sounds like a typical date setting. (it’s very bakugou of him.)

it’s obvious you’re staring in disbelief because he barks out an impatient “oi!” and you scramble for words. “yes-! yes, i- i’ll see you there, sir!”

his features soften and he looks, dare you say, relieved out of all things. “it’s bakugou, dumbass,” he corrects you in a grunt. “go back to work. you better be there tomorrow or fuckin’ else.”

and then there’s a big dumb smile stretching over your lips as you give him a nod and you swear you see his blush intensify. “i’ll be there.”

his eyes linger on you for a couple more heartbeats before he begins to stalk off. “good.” he then says over his shoulder, “and don’t be late!”

the rest of the office watches the great dynamight leave, dead quiet as the entire floor processes what just happened.

you’re in a daze. did that really just happen?

“holy shit.” one of your coworkers break the silence finally. “i’m pretty sure you just got a date with the boss.”

#bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #rain’s writing #my writing #rain’s thoughts

[thecreelhouse]

and what if i said “on your knees” prompt with st…s…ste…. oh i can’t even say it……

loml hello!!!!!!!!! 🥹 hope u like this bestie<3

———

“O-okay, you’re— you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Shoving Steve against a filthy wall in some stranger’s house, you’re determined to make Steve think of something, anything else, other than being trapped in the Upside Down. “C’mon, Steve. I’m not fucking stupid. You’ve been staring at me non-stop lately. Any reason why?”

“Because you’re- you- well,” Steve is trying his hardest to be a gentleman. Or, whatever else is close to that at this point. After diving through the watergate, he’s shirtless and wrapped in bandages, and you’ve only got a mini-skirt on (Yeah, great fashion choice before doing anything related to this hell of a different dimension. Great job!), and somehow lost half your shirt in the process.

You’re not a believer in much, but you’re sure as hell this is fate, or something close, pressuring you to finally make Steve realize you like him just as much, if not more. With your hands holding his arms to his sides, you glance up at him with the biggest gaze, one that sets off the storm awaiting inside him.

It’s the same stare he’s dreamed of time and time again, staring up at him while you’re choking on his cock.

“We could be stuck here for a very long time, y’know.” You purr, running your hands up his sides, careful as your fingertips run over his bandages. “The others are at Nancy’s anyway. We got time to kill. I literally saw you palming yourself when we were walking down the street away from the group— dude, please tell me you’re aware you weren’t that sneaky. You know that, right?”

“I— I don’t want to be mean.” Is all he can bring himself to say, but you laugh, startling him.

“Steve? As much as I love when you’re a gentleman, I’d fuckin’ love to see the old you tell me what to do. C’mon, babe, I know it’s still in you.”

You’re both the worst and best thing to happen to Steve Harrington. You’ve been such a badass through this entire adventure— it’s what you’re calling it, not him— and now you’re begging for King Steve to make a special appearance, boss you around and maybe make you cry, if he’s lucky. He wishes that thought alone, the idea of you crying while he’s ruining you, didn’t make his dick so goddamn hard. You realize how conflicted he looks, wanting to be respectful, wanting to treat you like a person, not just another piece of ass he’s chasing for one night only. You also see the way his eyes darken when you ask him to be his old self, to be mean to you, and you’re determined to lure that part out of him.

“I’m a big girl, I can tell you to stop if I need. Promise, Steve.” You’re hoping this helps, it comes off as begging, like he’s in control, but you’ve got the reins here, even if it’ll all be in his favor. “C’monnnnn, you nearly died, don’t you wanna—“

Steve’s fingers wind through your hair, soft at first, but once he has the handful he was searching for, his grip tightens, hard. You whine at the way he tugs your head up closer to his, nearly meeting him at eye level, but you’re on your tippy toes regardless.

“Nearly died saving your sorry ass. We nearly fucking died, and all you can think of is getting off? Seriously?” Steve’s eyes drop to your lips, pouting with need. “Open.”

Your eyes widen at the way he’s switched so suddenly, mouth falling open on his command. He spits into your mouth, thriving over the sight of you gagging on his own spit, without even kissing you. “That enough? Or you need more?”

Unsure what he was asking this for, you shrug, pussy throbbing as he tugs harder on your locks. “Heard you had the best mouth in our class, wanna prove it?”

Dizzy, you nod softly, in awe of how quick it was for him to jump back into his old ways. “Please? Can I?” A mixture of his spit and yours spills between your lips, right onto yourself. He watches the mess you make with a smirk, one that would’ve killed you back in high school, and still kills you now.

“Only ‘cause you sound so goddamn pathetic right now.” Steve loosens his grip on your hair, but has enough of a hold to push you towards the floor. “On your knees, honey. You said we got time to kill, don’t fuckin’ waste it.”

#aaagdgyfdjhfdg im gonnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa lose my marbles just wanna- bye #hope u enjoy this pal ty for sending this!! #prompts #answered #blurbs #steve harrington smut #ns/fw

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: Some light spice, no full on smut yet. This is in fact a Lucifer (TV) crossover. The beginning italics is a flashback.

Cooper Howard had perfected his aim in the many, many years of life spent in the hellish landscape that now inhabited Earth, so when he missed, it was purposeful.

“It ain’t good form, sneakin’ up on a restin’ man.”

His words were crisp, articulated, and honestly the intruder was just lucky he happened to be in a decent mood. It would’ve been easier to kill them.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

The replying voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of the life he lived. It didn’t belong, sounded far too gentle, and it aroused enough curiosity for him to tip his hat back.

Not a damn thing in the whole of the Wasteland could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with.

Pretty, that was his first thought.

Too pretty.

Ungodly so, actually. Your eyes seemed to shine so bright in contrast to the dingy lantern that barely provided enough light to see his own hands. The slope of your nose, the cut of your cheeks, the shape of your lips- too pretty.

Not to mention the tight jumpsuit you wore, the zipper tugged down low enough on your chest to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. His fingers twitched as his eyes traced a path down your body- slow, appreciative. It’d been a damn long time since something as simple as a look could get him this worked up.

You had one visible weapon, a knife tucked into the belt of your jumpsuit, pressed into your very alluring thigh. He wondered briefly what it would feel like under his hand, wrapped tight around his waist.

“I suggest you get on your way ‘fore the next one ends up in your skull.”

It was a threat, one he emphasized with the click of his gun’s hammer.

You seemed unbothered, almost bored.

Fuck, didn’t that just annoy the piss out of him? You stumbled into his space- that he commandeered with his hard earned bullets, thank you very much- looking like fucking Aphrodite, with an expression that could, at best, be considered unconcerned.

Last he checked he was still pretty goddamn terrifying.

“Understood,” you held your hands up, and damn it all if he could ignore the pain in your gaze.

He hesitated.

It was a fraction of a fraction of a second, where he almost slipped back into Cooper Howard: the man who cared, imperceptible to most, but the small upturn of your lips told him you saw it.

He glared, holding his gun higher. You didn’t say another word, just held your hands up and walked away, but not before you met his gaze one more time.

He wished he knew what you were thinking when you muttered a soft, “thanks,” before you disappeared from the rickety building. The image haunted him for weeks, of you with your sad eyes, your face untouched by the ugliness of the world, breathing out your gratitude.

He swore he’d shoot you on sight if he ever saw you again, if only because that one encounter lingered in his mind for far too long after.

“Think they’re fuckin’?”

You startled, whipping your head up to face Cooper so quickly he was sure that it hurt. The heat that flushed your cheeks was unexpected.

“Sorry, just didn’t think you’d be so blunt.” You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe, they certainly seemed interested enough in one another to… engage.”

Coop barked a laugh, low and deep.

“Engage, huh?” You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your arms on your knees. “That’s a real innocent term for a bonafide tease like yourself.”

“Tease?” You echoed, almost offended.

The red from your cheeks burned a path down your neck, to the top of your breasts, where it disappeared beneath the fabric of your jumpsuit- a path Cooper was all too eager to trace with his eyes.

He hummed an affirmative, spreading his legs out in front of him. His back was leaned against the pole of an old billboard, giving him a nice resting spot from the traveling you’d been doing.

A few days ago, your little trio ran into the same knight Cooper had gotten into a shootout with back in Filly. He’d wanted to shoot the man and be done with it, but Lucy had argued that he could help.

After much deliberation, and more than a few pleads of your own, Cooper agreed to let him live. For now.

“A tumble in the ol’ hay gettin’ you nice and shy, huh?”

You groaned, forcing your eyes down to the sand beneath your legs. He waited eagerly for your explanation.

“My dad was, uh, strict,” you supplied lamely, embarrassment burning a pyre in your stomach.

You would surely never hear the end of this.

“Darlin’, are you suggesting you’re a-“

“No,” you were quick to respond, beating back against the shame that you felt.

You’d never understand how Lucifer could be so free in his decisions, not bothering to feel any guilt over the many decidedly “un-angel-like” behaviors he had. His time on Earth with you was short, beckoned back to his prison before you could even spend a decade together, but he’d not been idle in that time.

“I’ve… engaged before.”

Cooper’s lips drew into a slow smirk, the brim of his hat hiding the way his eyes were drinking in your expression. He’d memorized the way you look time and time again- when you were happy, or sad, angry, annoyed.

Embarrassed, however, was a new one.

“And now?”

The indignation that flared in your gaze rivaled the red of your cheeks, a thrill running down Coop’s spine as you pulled yourself to your feet and stalked towards him.

“And now,” you whispered, voice barely audible above the crunch of sand beneath your boot.

As you approached, he raised his head, drawn to your stare. The breath he released was strained with anticipation.

“I think you know what I want, Coop.”

It was graceful, the way you dropped yourself to your knees and straddled him. His cock twitched at the look you fixed him with, filled with far more desire than he could ever hope to understand. A fire was burning in the air between you, begging him to close the distance and feel you.

His fingers ghosted up the side of your thighs, hovering just above your ass. He’d hoped for this moment- dreamed of it, even- but never did he expect the universe would be kind enough to deliver you to him, ready and willing.

“And what is that, darlin’?” His tone dropped low, barely a murmur from his lips in fear of ruining the moment. “Don’t be afraid to use your words.”

Your mouth was so close to his, warm breath fanning over his face. He was torn between wanting to pull you into him, and letting you take your sweet time with him. The vaultie and the knight would probably be gone for a bit longer, in search of medicine to help with his shot arm.

“Mmm,” that sweet, lilting voice was so close he could feel it, inching closer to his body.

It was overwhelming, the sensation of your thighs over his, your front grinding so gently down the hardening curve of his cock. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much and not nearly enough. A groan might’ve tore itself from his throat, it was hard to tell over the sound of his blood rushing south, heart pumping double time to match the throbbing of his cock.

Every bit of his restraint was focused on letting you initiate, his hands flexing in the air, waiting for positive indication that he could have his wicked way with you. He could practically taste the sweet nectar between your legs, drooling at the prospect. If you tasted half as good as you looked, he’d never wish for apple pie again.

You, his tormenting angel, with wide eyes and full lips that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. You, who he once believed was a figment of his own imagination, if only because he couldn’t fathom such a delicacy still existing in this world.

“The hat.”

Your words were released on a breathy sigh, hands tracing up the textured skin of his neck, before you quickly grabbed hold of his beloved hat, delicately placing it on your own head.

The triumph in your expression didn’t last, as Cooper had no intention of this being just another game. Faster than you thought possible, and with far more force than you were used to, Coop had hooked his arms around the back of your thighs, caging you against him so you couldn’t back away as you had planned.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playin’.”

You pressed further into him, tipping his hat back with a smirk. His hips pushed up, aching for contact that you purposefully held from him.

“If I’m taking a ride, might as well play the part.”

His retort was hot on his tongue, only to be immediately swallowed by your mouth. Your lips crashed into his, rough in their ministrations. Years of dreaming about the taste of you didn’t do it any justice.

Your tongue explored his mouth with a ravenous hunger, hips moving in time with each stroke of your lips.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He was sure that all there was left to taste on the Earth was bitter and bland. You, however, were sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined. You tasted of vanilla, somehow, and the first crisp wind after a hot summer, and like the Earth before the war, the good things that had been destroyed and gone forever.

Holy hell, you tasted like life.

Like a deep laugh that came straight from the soul- he moaned when you tightened your grip on the fabric of his shirt, chasing every inch he’d give you- and the man Cooper Howard used to be.

His hands were eager in their exploration, mapping out a path from your thighs, to your ass, up the curve of your spine.

Fucking hell.

Every inch of you was divine, perfect in a way Cooper couldn’t even begin to understand. He wanted more. He needed more. Needed it more than he needed those damn drugs, more than he needed anything, really.

He went straight from the junction of your neck the second you broke from the kiss, mouth watering at the very thought of pressing his teeth to your sweet, soft skin.

“Cooper,” it was a whimper, a plea, and a moan all in one, and damn did his ears ring at the sound.

It went straight to his cock, making him press his hips up into yours, desperately trying to bury his length in you despite the many layers of clothing.

Your head fell back, exposing your neck even more to him, and causing his hat to tumble somewhere by his legs. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of you.

His hands slid higher, on a path to your shoulders, only to stop at the sudden intake of air from you. It sounded pained, and he was dazed when you pulled away from him with a speed he’d not seen before.

One second you were hot, willing, and moaning his name, and the next you were standing over him, your eyes haunted.

“Darlin’, what-“

He saw it then, the sticky, warm red on his hands, unmistakably blood. A baser instinct wanted to lick his gloves clean of it, taste an even deeper part of you, but the human in him won out, if only for a moment.

“You didn’t think to let anyone know you’re hurtin’.”

The anger in his tone is only trumped by the worry in his eyes. Somehow, you’d wriggled your way into his nearly fucking nonexistent heart, and it seemed that you had the self-preservation of a damn baby sea turtle.

“It’s an old wound.”

The way you held your arms to your chest, almost like you were hugging yourself, told Cooper enough. It was a wound that cut deep, not because it hurt, but because of how it got there in the first place.

“Lemme see,” he said sternly, picking up his hat off the ground with a scowl.

“Today, sweetheart,” he muttered when you made no move to do so.

There was a vulnerability in your gaze, a cut so deep he knew you’d never fully heal from it. He wished he didn’t want to know, wished he didn’t care to learn what made those bright eyes dim.

You unzipped the front of your jumpsuit slowly, tantalizingly, almost like the teasing was a part of your armor- and maybe it was. Maybe it was how you convinced yourself you didn’t care as much, or how you rebelled against the father you obviously still struggled with.

You turned your back to him, baring the marred flesh without another look in his direction. Obviously, Cooper had seen many, many scars in his time. Hell, he was scarred from head to toe, flesh marked with the passage of time and the heat of radiation.

This was a little different.

You tensed as he reached a hand out. Two large gashes ran down the length of your shoulder blades, the flesh pink and raw. Scratches, deep and angry, cut between them, some bleeding and others healed. Curiously, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed to the two big scars.

In a flash you were turned around, your hands wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t.”

A command. A plea. A whisper.

“Who did it?”

His words were hard, a rage so deep and endless rose in his chest, feeling more feral than he had his whole life. That wasn’t the scar of someone who survived an attempt on their life.

That was the scar of someone who intended to cause pain.

“Was it your daddy?”

From the very small amount of information you’d given him, he tried to piece together exactly what happened between the two of you. He didn’t know the specifics, but he did know that he’d hurt you in some unforgivable way.

Your silence was an answer in itself.

Leather creaked as he balled his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Cooper Howard was a monster, self-made and self-proclaimed, but he didn’t let anyone harm what was his.

And make no mistake, you were his. That kiss did just about everything to solidify it in his mind.

“If he weren’t dead already I’d hunt him down and string him up.”

It was a promise, and he wished he could bring that bastard back from the grave to punish him for putting those marks on your back and that look in your eye.

“Coop,” you approached him cautiously, returning your jumpsuit to its proper position. “He’s not dead.”

That certainly was a surprise.

And an opportunity.

“It’s more complicated than that,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. The clench on your jaw was noticeable.

“Let’s find the fucker, then.”

A long, tired sigh parted your lips. There were clearly parts of the story he was missing, and it seemed those parts painted a picture he didn’t understand.

“Let’s focus on Lucy and her dad.”

He let the silence simmer, wondering just how much he should tell you of his past. A bit of irritation flared at the idea of revealing anything. It was better to let the past die, like you said.

He grunted his agreement, not bothering to explain it to you. Maybe you’d try to stop him, or maybe you’d help him. It didn’t matter either way. You were already far closer to him than he wanted, he couldn’t risk any more of a bond forming.

“They’ll be back.”

His words were noncommittal. It was likely the vault dweller and her puppy-dog of a knight were probably alive, but he couldn’t really care less, especially when the girl's own naivety got them into this mess.

“Her heart was in the right place.”

You could see it on his face, read the expression etched in his battered skin like nobody else could.

“The right place for dyin’, maybe.” He clicked his tongue. “But I ain’t got that sorta wish right now.”

“They didn’t have to shoot,” you muttered, not nearly as worked up as you’d been earlier.

Anger isn’t an expression you wear often, so he was a little surprised when you’d been so upset with the fiends. Lucy had the bright idea of making it around them without violence, a plan that was doomed from the start.

Cooper voiced his opinion, and so did Maximus, but your encouraging little smile to Lucy made him follow with a scowl. The second they’d drawn their weapons, Coop had already shoved you behind him and dropped one of them. The knight wasn’t nearly as quick with the draw, and got a tooth bullet lodged in his arm for the effort.

He and Lucy had departed about a day ago, claiming they’d be back soon with a fully patched up knight. If it were just him, he would’ve tied them both up and dragged their asses to the head.

Better yet, just killed them both.

But you wouldn’t let him.

You’d always erred on the side of good, a little too soft for the world around you. He’d seen you mean, seen you stand your ground, but you helped far more than you’d hurt. The vault dweller seemed to only be intensifying it, making you believe in a pipe dream that was sure to get you a one way ticket to eternity.

“I’m going to check-“

“(Y/N)!”

Lucy’s voice cracked through the Wasteland like shattering glass. Whereas his annoyance at the sudden arrival of his unwanted companions reflected on his face, you managed a small smile.

“I was beginning to think you’d left us.”

It was a joke. Whatever bond had formed between you and Lucy had clearly earned you some amount of loyalty, and even if she would’ve ditched Cooper any chance she got, she definitely wouldn’t have left you. And if she refused to, it was no surprise Maximus also did.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” Your gaze fell where the bullet had struck, and there was a curious look in your eyes. You’d mentioned before that you used to be good with fixing people up, so he had a feeling you were reminiscing on another tidbit of life he wasn’t privy to.

“Ain’t no reason to gawk here like a bunch of sittin’ ducks,” Coop stalked passed the three of you, not interested in the camaraderie.

“Right,” Lucy cleared her throat, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“Just ‘cause you took lover boy here for a little ride on company property ain’t mean the rest of the world changed.”

Your sudden intake of breath definitely didn’t go unnoticed. It seemed that despite the previous interruption, you were enjoying rubbing yourself up on Coop as much as he was.

“Sex,” Lucy clarified to Maximus at the man’s confused expression.

“Watch out,” Cooper warned the other man with a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Them Vauties are just breeding factories, might end up with a little unexpected squire.”

“Cooper,” you chided, catching up to walk beside him.

Sometimes, being bitter about children in general helped him cope with the loss of his own.

“It is our privilege to one day repopulate the Earth,” Lucy confirmed, shrugging. “Women just have the responsibility of choosing the right partner.”

“I’m not sure-“ Maximus tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Cooper.

“Unsurprising.”

“(Y/N)?”

It was a low blow, Lucy asking for your opinion, knowing that even if he didn’t say it in so many words, it was obvious the ghoul valued it far more than any others. You raised a brow, shrugging.

“I haven’t really thought of it.”

“Of having kids?” Lucy pushed.

This was quickly entering uncomfortable territory, and Lucy didn’t really know where the boundary was.

“Of any sort of future, honestly.”

She took your answer in stride, though. Allowing the topic to drop off into silence. It didn’t stay that way for very long, idle chatter amongst you, Maximus, and Lucy. Cooper would very rarely comment, but he preferred to stay focused on his surroundings.

Day bled to night, which bled to day again. Time was beginning to slip past as you neared the location of the head, frustration growing in Cooper. Any opportunity he had to speak with you in private was interrupted, the traveling party growing too large for his liking.

Perhaps, after this whole ordeal, it’ll be just you and him.

Perhaps he liked the sound of that a little too much.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard insert #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul insert #fallout x reader #fallout reader insert #this is far too much fun to write

[ddejavvu]

Bully!Eddie seeks you out one morning but he finds you hurt with a scrapped knee because some lowlifes tripped you for being the freaks plaything:-( he's not sure what happens to him but something inside him takes over and he starts to take care of you, pecking away your tears and carrying you to his van so he can drive you to his trailer to get Wayne's first aid kit

this post is 18+, minors dni. (i didn't tag this as dark, because i feel like i didn't make him too crazy of a bully. he's more of a tease, really, he just annoys her, it's not like he's beating her up or something 😭 regardless, don't like -> don't read!)

When Eddie rounds the corner towards your locker, he doesn't expect his sneaker to ram into something soft. Nor does he expect it to groan.

You blink tearily up at Eddie from your spot on the floor, scraped knees to your chest as your back presses against the cool metal doors.

Upon seeing Eddie's perplexed expression the tears in your eyes spill lushly down your cheeks, a broken sob coming from your throat as well as a gushing groan.

You tuck your chin to your chest, silently begging for Eddie to move on and realize this was not the time.

instead, you feel a soft touch on one of your knees, burning as it presses into your cuts, despite being gentle. You hiss and jerk your knees apart, not caring that it exposes your panties from under your skirt.

"'The fuck happened?" Eddie demands, "Did you fall over?"

"Someone tripped me," You sniffle, a sob wracking your frame, "Please, Eddie, just leave me alone!"

Upon hearing you hadn't been the victim of your own clumsiness, Eddie feels his chest tighten. He squats so fast that his knees crack, and you jerk your head out of your arms to stare at him, startled.

"Who tripped you?" His brows are furrowed, nearly knitting together in the middle of his face, "Only I'm allowed to tease you."

"Some- some basketball player," You gush through an anguished sob, "Eddie I really can't do this today, please. Please, just go away!"

"Will you shut your trap about me leaving? I'm not gonna skip out on you," He scoffs, "Do you have band-aids in that little pink purse of yours?"

Your lips puff out in a frown, and you shake your head, smearing a tear away from your eyes with a rough finger. Eddie swats your hand away, but when he strokes your cheek it's gentle, and he cleans away the rest of your anguish.

"'Kay. Can't tell the school nurse, she'll just give you a fuckin' ice pack. I'm gonna fix you up, okay honey?"

You feel his hands grip the bottoms of your thighs before you can process his words, but when you realize he's peeling your back away from the lockers to pick you up you bolt out of his grasp.

He looks offended, "Hey!"

"Don't-! What are you doing?" You smear away another tear from under your eye, the ache prominent behind your lids.

"I'm taking you home," He spells out, rolling his eyes, "So that I can clean you up," He reaches out a hand, "And then I'll drive you back to your place for the day."

"You.. you'll fix me up?"

"Yes," He urges, "You.. you don't think I'd, like, hurt you, right?"

"I dunno," You mumble, eyes downcast, "You push me."

"Not into anything!"

"You trip me."

"I always catch you."

"You say I'm a ditz."

"I'm a super super senior. Don't let me insult your intelligence."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you stare at him from below your lashes. He's waiting, arms wide for you, and when you take a tentative step forwards, he pulls you the rest of the way in.

"There you go," He yanks you to be flush to his chest, breath fanning over your face. You're intimidated by the close proximity, because anytime he clears this much distance between you, he usually has you pinned against something while his hands roam your waist. Your heart thumps in excitement at what you're trained to expect, and you're slightly disappointed when he doesn't touch you further. What he does do, though, is lean forward to peck your cheek, lips shining with your tears when you pull away. You sniffle lightly, hands curled into the loose fabric of his t-shirt, confused and concerned with this new side of Eddie.

It feels nice to have him kiss your tears away. But it's so much more exciting, it gets your stomach in more of a whirl when he kisses your lips, nipping at them until they're red and sore and stinging. Apparently he feels the roving of your fingertips against his chest because his expression darkens slightly, deepening from a grin to a smirk.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, this isn't permanent. I'll be back to pushing you around once you've got bandages on those knees. I think you owe me a thank-you for helping you out, don't you?"

Butterflies swarm through your tummy as you nod vigorously, mouth practically watering at the thought of his cock. You go with him much more happily now that you know what you'll get after he's done, and you find you rather like his sensitive side, even if it only lasts until he's smoothed band-aids over your knees.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson au #bully!eddie

[gyqru]

LADY OF NAMEK — ethan landry

warning: violence, harassment, cursing, murder, creepy behavior, slut shaming (?), fem! reader

word count: 3.8k

authors note: ethan gets pervy/creepy at the end, and mindy gets kinda mean at the end. (more then she usually is).

chapter one

as ethan catches up to you, he grabs your hand to get your attention. the sudden movement forces you to spin around, almost falling forward as you lose balance quickly in your heels.

reacting quicker than you, ethan wraps a hand around your waist, stabilizing you. confusion soon melts into relief as you recognize the boy. “ethan! hey!” you beamed, face flushed from the heat of the party.

“hey y/n! where are you headed?” he steps up to the same step you stood on, even in heels he still towers over you.

“bathroom; need a break from the party,” your shoulders slump as you remember why you were heading upstairs.

analyzing your body language, ethan could tell something was wrong with you. taking the initiative, he removes his hands from your waist and grabs your hand; leading you further up the stairs.

following him like a lost puppy, you let him drag you up the stairs. unbeknown to you or ethan, chad was watching from below. a smirk plastered on his face as his sister rolls her eyes next to him.

“watch, she isn't going to come back down alive—”mindy gets cut off with an elbow to the stomach. groaning, she punches her brother back, barely making chad flinch.

rolling his eyes, he walks away, happy that his friend finally grew a pair.

you and ethan sat in the bathroom, awkward silence filling the small room. you sat on the counter of the sink, while ethan sat next to you on the toilet.

fidgeting with your mini skirt, you try to stop overthinking about the situation that happened downstairs.

“you okay?” ethan’s eyes peer up at you, face full of concern. “yeah—yeah, i’m fine, ethan,” you try to reassure him, but not even you seem convinced by your own words.

“are you sure? i know we aren’t close, but you can trust me... i swear i'm a great listener,” ethan tries to get you to open up, mostly because he wants you to trust him; to let your guard down around him.

with a sigh, you decide to trust him. what’s the worst that could happen?

“it’s nothing, really. just some guy that was bothering me, wouldn’t leave me alone,” trying your best to downplay the whole situation.

“it’s not nothing if it’s bothering you y/n” ethan assured you, what you failed to realize was the way ethan’s demeanor changed.

his mind started to race, wondering who did something to you. a backpack that waited for him behind the house, filled with the ghostface entire, was set for a different purpose, but why not kill two birds with one stone?

so engulfed in his head, ethan didn’t register that you had started ranting to him about what happened.

“—and he just kept pressin’ me about going back to his place. my friends had to tell him off for him to leave me alone.”

ethan nods his head to show you that he’s listening, which he is, partly. he’s still trying to figure out how he’ll go through killing.

“like holy shit get the hint!—” loud banging to the bathroom door cut you off.

YO! WHOEVER THE FUCK IS IN THERE, GET THE FUCK OUT!

startled, you quickly hop off the counter, ethan following suit. swinging the door open, you come face to face with the asshole that was harassing you.

before you could slip past him, he steps in your way. “fuckin’ slut! you really rejected me for some fucking loser,” he sneers.

“not what it looks like, connor, he’s just my friend,” you explain, trying your hardest to move past him. you start to track back down the stairs, connor following behind you, ego hurt.

“yeah right, you just open your legs for anyone huh,” he shouts. ignoring him, you try to find your friend. looking everywhere, you couldn’t see anyone, you couldn’t even find ethan.

where did ethan go? he was right behind you when you walked out the restroom. a strong grip rips your attention away; an angry connor tries to drag you away.

fighting him, the two of your start to cause a scene. “get the fuck off of me! let go!” you try to fight him off, your useless attempts only make his grip tighten.

“hey man, she said to let go,” someone cuts in behind you; a strong arm pulls you closer to them, stopping you from getting dragged any further.

looking up, you see chad, a calm demeanor hiding anger that was bubbling from within him. turning to face chad, connor scoffs, letting go of you; he raises his hands in defense.

backing off immediately, he starts to walk off, mumbling curses and insults. whispers from people around you start to die down, everyone returning to minding their business.

letting go of you, chad starts to ask if you’re okay. “yeah, i’m fine. he’s been doing that for the whole party, so thank you for finally getting him off my back,” you grumbled, wrapping your hands around your own body.

“no worries about it! come on, i saw mei somewhere around here,” he smiles at you, wrapping a hand around your shoulder as he leads you through the frat house.

a muffled scream is drowned out by the loud music that blares through the house. ethan, now fully dressed in his black robe and white mask, plunges his knife into connor’s stomach.

blood starts to seep out of his mouth, eyes wide as he starts to choke on his own blood. more muted screams rip out of his throat, slumping forward.

twisting his knife upward, ethan rips open connor’s stomach, his squishy insides now leaking out.

finally pulling out his knife from the inside of connor’s stomach, he lets the frat boy fall down. ethan's chest heaves, staring down at connor’s limp body. wiping the blood off his knife, he starts to walk away, picking up the backpack that holds his casual clothing.

by the third ring, you give up completely. groaning, you hand chad back his phone. “i’m sorry y/n, i could’ve sworn she was here like three seconds ago,” chad tries to comfort you.

“it’s fine, not your fault. i’ll probably just call an uber—” interrupted once again, a loud crowd starts to form near the door leading to the backyard.

confused, both you and chad turn to look at each other. without saying anything, chad starts pushing past the crowd. following his lead, you start to see what’s happening.

a pool of blood is the first thing you see; your heart starts to beat faster. a limp connor now sits in the middle of the kitchen, the people who found him crouching next to him. another person stands nearby, phone to their ear, calling the police.

connor is dead, dead right in front of you. he was an asshole, sure, but he didn't deserve to die. you start to feel sick, the way his dismembered body lays, wide blue eyes blank–lifeless. rushing past the crowd, you book it outside.

gasping for fresh air, you let out a choked sob, your whole body shaking. you didn't realize that chad and his friends followed you outside. “y/n! let's go, we need to leave,” chad urges. your vision hazy from crying, you nod weakly.

as you and everyone else get into chad's car, silence falls. sitting in the front seat, you curl yourself up, bringing your knees to your chest. you couldn't help but feel guilty; he died right after what happened.

this doesn't feel like a coincidence; it can't be.

pulling up to your apartment complex, chad parks outside the main entrance. “come on y/n, let me walk you to your door,” he unbuckles his seat belt and gets out. walking around to your side, he opens the door and waits for you to get out.

as the two of you approach the door to your apartment, you start to get the feeling of dread. the door is slightly cracked open, the lights are off.

your body starts to feel like its made of jelly, feels like youre moving in slowmo as you push the door open.

a loud scream rips through your throat; your roommate and friend lay bloody at the entrance of your house. you stumble back, shaking violently, a weak whimper leaves your lips.

why? first connor, now your roommates? why? what did they do? what did you do?

tears stream down your face, your head feeling dizzy. the last thing you see is chad's face, terror written all over it.

waking up to a soft mattress, you shoot up; frantic eyes scan your surroundings. a quick glance to a window shows it’s still night.

you don’t recognize who’s room you're in, eyes glazing over the nerdy movie posters on the wall, and the small desk cramped with papers in a corner.

getting up, you start to head to the only door in sight. stepping out, light chatter fills your ears. rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light change, you start to head in the direction of the talking.

chad, ethan, tara, and two other girls are gathered in the living room. your roommate, chantel, is also there, her face looking worse than yours.

deafening silence fills the room, all eyes on you. chantel is the first to react, rushing towards you and pulling you into a hug.

your face sinks into the crook of her neck, letting all the memories from earlier flood your mind.

“i’m sorry, chantel. i-i didn’t— i don’t know why. i’m so so sorry,” you sob, small hiccups and whimpers falling from your lips as you continue to apologize.

“it’s not your fault, y/n... none of this is,” chantel reassures, pulling away from you. wiping your tears gently, you refuse to meet her eyes.

guilt eats at you, the same questions playing on repeat in your head. the image of your friends' lifeless bodies flashes through your mind; their faces contorted with fear.

holding your face in her hands, chantel forces eye contact with you. “look at me, y/n. this isn’t your fault, there was no way you could’ve prevented this, okay?” chantel’s soft gaze never falters, though you can tell on the inside she's just as scared.

nodding your head, chantel pulls away. quickly grabbing her belongings, she starts to head towards the front door.

“wait where are you going?” you question, confused on where she could go if your apartment is probably under investigation.

“we’re staying with my boyfriend; come on,” she motions you to follow her. “no, you two should stay here; it’s better to be in groups,” ethan argues suddenly.

“no.” chantel says blankly, walking back to you and pulling you away.

“why not?” ethan still fighting to keep you here with him.

“because we barely know any of you...?” chantel retorts, annoyance starting to creep into her. you know her patience is running thin.

“she has a point. i mean we barely know both of them; just because we all knew mei doesn’t mean we know each other,” someone butts in from behind ethan. mindy, chad's sister if you remember correctly.

“i mean, how do we know they didn’t do this?” she continues, bewilderment fills you and chantel. even her other friends seem shocked by her statement.

“excuse me?!” chantel barks, stepping towards the girl. before she could do anything rash, you hold her back. “come on, chan, calm down,” you can't handle this anymore, too much is happening.

before another word could come out of the mindy’s mouth, chad steps in. “alright, mindy, not the time. they knew mei longer than we did.”

“still suspicious,” mindy mumbles under her breath.

“fuck you, i don’t know where you people get off telling us that we killed our best friend. you don’t know shit about us,” chantel sneered, her face seething with anger.

“but we know about ghostface, so be my guest. go get yourselves killed.” mindy threatens, raising from the couch she sat on.

“mindy, come on,” the girl who was cuddled next to her grimaced. “no! so many people died tonight, and they’re all tied to her! so unless ghostface is after her too, then i don’t know who to trust,” she points at you, causing a chain of reactions to ensue.

chad, mindy, and chantel all start to argue. (chad more so trying to calm his sister) tara (who you knew because of sam back when you were first attacked by ghostface) then jumps in, taking the side of her friend.

overwhelmed by everything, you start to draw away from the situation, heading back into the room you woke up in. ethan notices and starts to follow you, trying his best to go unnoticed by the group still arguing.

softly knocking on the door to his room, ethan walks in, seeing you curled up on his bed makes him smile. quickly pulling himself back to reality, he shuffles next to you.

“hey, you okay?”

“not really, e.. i mean my friends just died, i don’t know why i'm getting targeted. i'm scared and confused and—and it’s just a lot,” you ramble, feeling frustrated with yourself.

you feel stupid, you feel like the weakest link. you’re not strong like sam or chantel, nor are you super smart.

is that why you’re getting targeted? why you?

you don’t realize that your eyes started to well up with tears, letting them fall down your face.

ethan decides to take a risk and wraps his hands around you, pulling you in close to comfort you.

leaning into him, you allow yourself to cry in front of him, letting your tears wet his sweater. ethan whispers sweet nothings into your ear, rubbing a soothing hand on your back, pushing you closer to his body.

after you find yourself not being able to cry anymore, you pull away from ethan.

he frowns from loss of contact but keeps a resting hand on your back, his hand drawing small circles on your clothed back. just in time, the girl who was next to mindy walks in.

“hey, i’m sorry if i’m barging in, but i couldn’t be in there anymore. the arguing was too much,” she awkwardly shuffles into the room.

“it’s fine, anika,” ethan tells her, nodding her head awkwardly as she finds herself sitting on ethan’s study chair. “you okay now, y/n?” anika’s tone was soft, not wanting to come off too strong.

“i’m fine, thank you,” you reply, sending the girl a crooked smile.

“this is our first time formally meeting, so hi, my name is anika, and i’m dating that tall girl out there. i swear she isn’t as mean as she seems. it’s nice to meet you,” she smiles, holding her hand out for you to shake.

surprised, you giggle at her introduction, shaking her hand and introducing yourself.

“yeah right..” ethan murmurs next to you, causing you to turn to him with a confused look.

“well, ethan's an exception to mindy, but trust me, you’ll warm up,” anika objected. your sadness slowly fades as you find yourself becoming more comfortable with ethan and anika.

the three of you stay in ethan’s room, talking and sharing things about each other. it was nice bonding with them, you soon find out something all of you seem to have in common is not being a part of the “core four”.

another knock to ethan’s door stops the conversation between the three of you, a pair of siblings stand at the door.

“y/n, chantel left. she uh.. gave up on arguing and just walked out, so you’re kinda stuck here now,” chad explains, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“oh.”

“on the bright side, you're safe..?” he trails off, scared of what your reaction would be to being told your friend got so fed up with them she just left you with a bunch of strangers.

“it’s fine, chad, i’ll just sleep on your couch,” you shrug. chantel can be a bit much whenever she’s mad, so you don’t blame her for walking out.

before anything else could happen, mindy lets out a breathy cough, a sign that she wants everyone’s attention. chad drops a hand on his sister's shoulder, knowing what she’s about to do is going to be a blow to her ego.

“i’msorryididn’tmeantoblameyouformeisdeathiwasjustparanoidandscared”

you shared a look of confusion then understanding as you replayed mindy’s words in your head (hearing chantel constantly rambling really comes in handy now).

chuckling, you get up from beside ethan and walk up to mindy, her eyes closed, awaiting for you to scream at her.

you awkwardly pat her arm, accepting her apology with a smile. sighing, she slumps, being able to breathe now that you don’t seem angry at her.

“now could the two of you move, i need to piss.”

staring at yourself in the mirror, you start regretting letting chantel leave without you. your mascara smeared and dried under your eyes wasn’t flattering.

your dirty party dress was even worse; god, you looked like a hot mess. shutting the lights off as you step out to peek into ethan’s room.

“hey, can i borrow some clothes? i want to shower, and i know mindy and anika already left,” you ask. ethan is laying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, and shoots right up.

“yeah! here, let me find something.” he sounds too excited to be sharing his clothes with you, but you don’t really care. you just need to wash away everything from today.

ethan scrambles to find something for you to wear, pulling out a sweatshirt and some shorts. handing them over, he apologizes if they don’t fit. (in the back of ethan’s mind, he thought about giving you boxers but decided against it.)

thanking him, you walk back into the bathroom and start the shower. (the two bottles of 2-in-1 and the single soap bar scared you tremendously, but you progressed.)

finishing up, you step out of the shower, a soft knock to the door startles you. “hey, i forgot to give you a towel! h-here, i’ll leave it on the fl—“

quickly opening the door, your wet head peering out to see ethan holding a folded towel, his cheeks blushing from seeing the upper part of your naked body.

“thanks, e! thought i was going to run out naked to find one,” you joke, grabbing the towel and closing the door hastily.

ethan just stood there, dazed by the small amount of skin he saw. the way you dressed left little to ethan’s imagination, but this was different to him.

you were naked on the other side; he didn’t hear you relock the door. he could walk in and see your wet nude body, watching how your face would look filled with terror; desperately trying to hide from him.

he could take you right now.

the sound of you jiggling the bathroom door handle makes ethan aware that he’s still standing in front of the bathroom. you swing the door open, getting startled to still see ethan standing where you left him.

“if you needed to use the restroom, you could’ve just told me to change in your room,” you mention, walking past ethan to the kitchen to grab a plastic bag to put your dirty clothes in.

ethan tried coming up with an excuse but instead he stuttered out some nonsense.

“well, could you please give me a blanket so that i could sleep on the couch,” you shout from the kitchen.

“y-yeah, sure,” he answered, walking into his room and grabbing the blanket off his bed. (it was the only blanket he had, but he didn’t care if he was cold.)

watching you as you throw the couch pillows onto the floor, ethan watches you, taking in the way you look with his clothes on.

the sweater fitting you like a dress, the basketball shorts he gave you were way below your knees. you looked tiny in his clothes. (made the both of you realize the actual size difference between the two of you.)

finishing up, you look over to see ethan with the blanket. grabbing it from him, you smile and thank him, quickly jumping into the long couch and getting comfortable.

“goodnight, e, thanks again for letting me borrow your clothes,” you say, smooshing your face into the pillow.

“yeah, goodnight, y/n.. i’ll leave the hallway light on for you, okay?”

nodding, you quickly drift to sleep. you were a heavy sleeper, so once you were out, you weren’t waking up until morning.

ethan turns the living room lights off but doesn’t walk away immediately. he watches as you fall asleep, admiring your bare face and wet hair.

ethan didn’t know you were a heavy sleeper, so when the flash of his camera didn’t wake you, he was overjoyed.

he couldn’t wait until you were finally his.

alice talks ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

finally guys! chapter two!! srry (not srry) i made ethan a little perv at the end but he’s obsessed with you. guys i almost hit 4k words like this was long (for me). hope yall enjoyed! somewhat proofread!

#scream.com ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ #ethan landry #ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #anika kayoko #gyqru #fanfic #writing

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Okay I realized a scene I love comes up in the fic on this chapter, so I was like "well, I'm not doing anything right now, why not write it?"

So I wrote it. Enjoy.

(This one has description of some gore and aftermath of torture, very short segments, not worse than was already in the fic)

Ghost woke up slowly, the slick residue of his nightmares fading away as he lifted his head and groaned. Soap had already woken up, and by the chipper way he moved around the room, a while ago.

The Sergeant is getting better at telling when he’s being stared at, and he turns around to raise an eyebrow at Ghost.

“Sleepin’ beauty is finally awake!” he says with a smile.

Ghost drags a hand under his mask, sighing, “time’s it?”

“500 sharp, sir” Soap provides happily.

The fuck’s kinda person is this cheerful at this hour? Ghost exhales loudly and finally gets out of bed. The Sergeant opens his mouth, to probably comment on his old man habits, but Ghost shoots him a stare that would’ve killed a lesser man.

Soap just gives him a shit eating grin in return, “not a morning person?”

Ghost walks towards the bathroom, “I’m a normal person, you’re the fuckin’ anomaly.”

The Scot barks a loud laugh that makes him feel a little less groggy.

At mess, the taskforce finds a table of their own, and the Sergeants busy themselves with an argument about one daft thing or another. 

Price caught his attention and started speaking to him in his mind, “your nightmares are bloody loud sometimes, y’know that?”

Ghost bites on his toast, “don’t fuckin’ listen then.”

The Captain laughs a little before his features turn serious, “you wanna tell me how much of what the Reaper said in your dream actually happened?”

That’s what he dreamt about that last night? Fucking hell. Can’t keep secrets from Price.

“Won’t have to if you just told me, Simon.”

Ghost puts down his meal to stare intently at the Captain, “what did you see? In my dream.”

Price’s moustache twitched in thought, and he replied, “it said something about Soap bringing your demise?”

“It said ‘bringer of demise’, didn’t fuckin’ specify whose.” Ghost spat back.

“What else?”

Before he could stop him, he felt Price pull the memory to the forefront of his mind to watch for himself what unfolded on the plane that day.

“It told you to stay away from Soap if you wanna live?!”

Ghost banged his fist on the table, startling the Sergeants out of their idiotic bickering. He paid no mind to them, focus fully on Price, “I’m not going to stop working with the Sergeant just because my Reaper decided to be a little shit.” he snarls in the Captain’s head.

Price huffs, “I’m not going to let you die Ghost.”

“Did it say I’m going to die?!”

“Simon…”

Gaz cuts their exchange, “what’s going on? Are you two talking in your brains?”

Soap crosses his arms, “well, yer welcome to use your outside voice.”

Ghost gets up, “no need, we’re done.”

Before he can get out of range, Price tells him “keep yourself safe on this mission, Simon. We’ll figure it out later.”

He supposes that’s manageable. 

Ghost and Soap bid their farewells to Gaz and Price, as they go on their own part of the mission, and walk back to the armory to get ready for theirs.

The two of them get dressed up, Ghost armed to the teeth with various throwing knives. He’s not going to use Limbo, not with Soap being right next to him.

And he won’t need to - Ghost is perfectly capable as a fighter with no abilities. There’s a reason the rumors about him as so varied.

Near inhuman in every aspect.

Soap is done before him (less knives, amateur), and now sits to watch Ghost finish up.

A low whistle makes him twist around, “haven’t seen this get-up since the last time we worked together, lookin’ good LT”.

…huh?

“Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Ghost voices almost mechanically.

“Aye sir, yessir.” Soap gives him an overexaggerated salute.

He rolls his eyes and ignores the warm feeling spreading through his body for the billionth time.

The cartel member’s house appears in the distance after a few minutes of making their way through the wilder parts of Las Almas. Ghost and Soap take out the guards at the front gate and make their way in.

The house is a two storey, drab building, with no real defining features. It’s surrounded by a tall fence, and a smaller shed is stuck by the far left corner of the large yard. 

The suspected location of the kidnapped people is by the far end of the house. They’re tasked with making it inside without alerting any alarms, lest they start killing the people trapped inside.

With the front door clear, the two soldiers open the door and instantly check corners, covering each other’s blind spots.

“Clear.”, Ghost announces.

“Clear.” Soap lowers his silenced pistol a bit, “seems awfully empty, LT. Sure we got the right house?”

“Affirm, stay sharp Sergeant.” Ghost starts forwards, Soap not far behind him.

He feels unnerved. The Sergeant is right, the house is quiet, as though it’s been deserted weeks ago. But a quick look at the amount of dust settled on the floors tells him it couldn’t be more than a few days.

They continue forward, clearing rooms methodically. Ghost has a sense of satisfaction from the act, an enjoyment in working together with Soap besides him for the first time.

They complete each other’s blind spots like puzzle pieces.

Soap declares the first floor clear, barring one last room at the very end of the hallway. Up until then they found several evidences that there were narcos residing here in the past, including a hefty amount of white powder, but they’re not here on a drug bust.

“On me Sergeant”, Ghost orders Soap before pushing the door open.

The scene inside is gruesome. Ghost is intimately familiar with narco torturing techniques, so the bloodied items strewn across the room were an unfriendly sight.

4 bodies lay in the room, and Ghost walks over to check for cartel tattoos on them. One of the bodies has dog tags, and he frowns while pulling it out of the dead man’s shirt.

They read “Thomas Anderson”. Why is that name familiar-

“Sergeant Thomas Anderson, 28. Revenant powers… ‘Breathing underwater?’”

Soap examines the torturing devices with wary eyes, muttering “steamin’ Jesus…” under his breath.

Ghost spots a large tub, filled with reddish water.

Anderson’s body is dry, besides the blood oozing out of his cold body.

The three other men in the room however… Their body is coated with an even amount of thinned blood, from their head down to their chests. They died from drowning.

What is the meaning of this…?

Ghost takes Anderson’s dog tags and stands up, “4 confirmed deaths, no survivors”, he radios in. 

“Copy, exfil inbound in 30, get yourself there.”

They both exit the room, “copy, out here.”

Ghost turns to stand in front of the Sergeant, “one of them was a revenant”, he dangles the tags in front of Soap’s eyes. The date of Reaping is listed right under date of birth, like in their own tags.

Soap frowns, a certain anger washing over him, “what do you think they’re playin’ at?”

“We can chew on that back at base, for now let get to exfil-”

Ghost barely finishes his sentence when he sees Soap’s eyes widen, locked on something behind his shoulder. Half a second later, he’s being spun around, and the piercing sound of bullets fills the air.

Ghost’s heart hammers, and he finally focuses on the view in front of him. Soap’s wide, blue eyes.

And several blotches of red peppered across his torso, spreading quicker than Ghost can process.

“...Soap?” his mind can’t, refuses to make sense of the sight in front of him. Soap isn’t… he can’t be…

The Sergeant’s breaths are erratic, chest rising and falling in big swells. The shock in his eyes transforms, burns away.

Until all that’s left, is rage.

“I’m so sick of this…” Soap murmurs. Shouts in Spanish echo behind them, but Ghost have eyes and ears only for his Sergeant.

Soap lets go of his shoulders, and Ghost scrambles to take him in his arms.

But Soap turns around and walks away, legs shaking and hands burning brighter and brighter by the second. 

One brave narco shoots at his shoulder, making the Scot stagger for a moment.

Ghost lifts an arm, to drag Soap back to him, to cover him from anyone who ever harmed him, to do something, anything.

But Soap unleashes a terrifying snarl and launches forward, grabbing at the narcos.

The explosions blind Ghost, screams and horrible sounds of metal creaking to the breaking point and bones snapping deafening him.

Soap whirls in the middle of this firestorm, exploding guns, heads, walls, anything in his path.

Ghost’s eyes water from the amount of dust and smoke that fills the air.

His Sergeant is radiant.

“Soap…” Ghost tries to stop the unstoppable. He just wants Soap to rest.

“Johnny…..” 

Soap finally stills, carnage creating a halo around him, and all Ghost sees is the red on his clothes, the wheezing of his breath.  

Ghost takes a step forward, and Soap collapses on his knees.

He rushes to grab him by the shoulders before he can fall further, “you’re fine Johnny, you’re going to be fine.” he sputters, pushing his Sergeant up to look at the wounds.

So many wounds.

He knows no one can survive this. Not even revenants. 

“LT…” Soap whispers, voice weak and wobbly.

“You’re going to be alright, you…” air leaves his lungs without a sound. He can’t breathe. How can he?

How can he breathe when Soap lifts a trembling hand, the gentle warmth of flames licking at Ghost’s nape, and looks at him like that?

“LT… I’m not gonna-”

They both jump at the sound of car tires getting closer. The narcos called for backup…

Ghost can’t breathe. He watches Soap shivers in front of him.

He doesn’t have a choice. 

Ghost takes Soap in his arms, hand on his nape mirroring his Sergeant, and presses his head to his own shoulder.

“Close your eyes, Johnny. It will all be over soon.”

He can hear Soap gasp, can feel his chest stuttering.

Ghost closes his eyes the moment footsteps enter the house.

Limbo courses out of him, darkness and emptiness and void filling the house, the residents of it screaming, snarling to take a bite at the intruders.

He holds Soap tight, pressing himself as close as he can. The protective wisps of light barely cover them both, but he will not let Soap be taken by Limbo.

Not Soap. Not Johnny.

In the next blink, Limbo is gone. The victims of the void quiet, as if they also mourn along Ghost.

Johnny pushes lightly at his chest, and Ghost separates them to look him in the eyes.

He seemed to try to form a sentence before a series of coughs wrecked his body, so Ghost laid him down on the blood-covered floor.

“G-Ghost”, he utters through clenched teeth, “d’ye… d’ye know how guns work?”

Ghost’s heart crushes at the sound of his Sergeants voice. He’s… not making sense anymore. Blood delirium isn’t unheard of… especially… especially with how much he-

“Yes”, Ghost softly whispers, more gentle than he ever learned to be.

“T-tell me”, Soap winces when more pain makes its way through his system.

Ghost wants to wither away with him. “The bullet goes into the chamber… and the primer is ignited to cause a small exp-”

His world stops completely.

“T-Teh cause a small ex-explosion.” Soap finishes slowly.

Johnny is…

“I’m not gonna d-die, LT”

Ghost’s eyes slide away from Soap’s, to the rest of his body. He slowly lifts his Sergeant’s shirt, to reveal multiple bullet holes where the tac vest didn’t cover him.

Bullet holes that are already closing.

Ghost wanted to scream out of joy, wail in premature unwarranted grief, shout at Soap for not telling him earlier.

But the radio informs them exfil is 10 minutes out, and they need to get a move on if they want to arrive in time.

Ghost slides his hands under Soap’s body, blood soaking his gloves in a way that takes him back 8 months ago. Back when it was different.

Soap grasps him like he’ll fall if he doesn’t.

Different, yet also the same.

The walk to exfil is quiet, save for Soap’s harsh breathing. Healing or not, he still feels pain.

The driver of their exfil car looks horrified at their shared state, but neither give an explanation and take a sit at the back of the car. It’s only after a few moments of nothing that Ghost mutters, “drive” to the Vaquero.

He feels numb, his arms and legs limp, gaze forward, but nothing truly passes through his brain.

Soap shifts beside him, letting out grunts of pain every once in a while. Making it obvious, despite what his heart tells him, that he’s very much alive.

The blood seeping under his fingernails feels freezing.

The Vaquero was at a loss of what to do with them once the car reaches the base. Ghost shuts the door loudly, and with it the connection to his heart.

Lieutenant first, human last.

“Where is medical?” He asks the man.

Ghost carries Soap all the way to the nurse’s hands, where he was stopped and told he had to clean up if he wanted to stay any longer. He wanted to scream infection doesn’t matter when the wounds will close in the matter of minutes, but the look on the nurse told him she wasn’t impressed.

He left medical to drag himself to the showers, energy left behind him with every step. 

Showers are usually a short ordeal for him, as efficient as they come. But Johnny’s blood going down the drain made him linger.

30 or so minutes later he comes out, and for the first time in what feels like hours there's  something in his brain, besides numbness.

It’s Price. Him and Gaz returned.

The voice in his mind sounds concerned, imploring him to explain why everything looks so dull there.

Ghost ignores it and goes to find his teammates.

“Ghost” Price greets, Gaz perks up from his previous position, head held in his hands. “Where’s the Sergeant?”

Ghost nods back at the hallway, “medical.” is all he provides.

Garrick startles, “Was he injured? What happened?”

“Flanked.” Ghost says, voice matching the emptiness in his head, “got shot.”

“Shot?! Fuck, where-”

“He’s immune.” Ghost cuts him off.

Gaz becomes confused, “immune?”

“To bullets. Primer ignition counts as explosion.” 

The Sergeant sits back down, body slackening, “thank fuck…”

Price catches ghost’s eye contact, “but you didn’t know that.”

Ghost just… shrugs.

“Fucking hell…” the Captain looks away, “it was one of the redacted details in his file…”

Gaz frowns, “why would they redact that?”

“Reapers know.”

The next couple of hours zoom past Ghost. His teammates try to coax him out of his unfeeling self, but Ghost isn’t truly in base.

His mind is stuck in a cartel house, in the Las Almas wilderness. On bloody and soot covered floor, with a dying man in his arms.

On eyes, shining with burning rage.

Pain! Pain! Pain! All I'm making Ghost feel is pain!

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #cod price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #I was worried this was too ooc at some point #but then i figured this entire fic is so different from canon it doesnt matter that much #anyway ignoring the part where the pain is #hmmmMMmm the plot thickens.... #technically i have enough time to write another chapter... #but i think i need to go chill lmao #this chapter is already the longest yet

[blainesebastian]

worth it

words: 1,373 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (combination of 2 requests) angry!austin + protective!austin (sentence prompt)  notes: thanks for all the requests! it’s been cool to write and realize multiple requests can fit into one writing piece :) hope ya’ll enjoy. masterlist is here  warnings: verbal abuse (men about reader)  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted

Austin’s pissed.

You can see it in the frame of his shoulders, tight across like rebar formed into the bone. He stands a bit straighter, the muscle in his jaw works, and his eyes which are usually the softest ocean blue turn hard, like the color of a frozen lake. When your boyfriend has these moments, you always remember something your mother would say when you were younger—to be wary of the anger of a gentle man. Not that you’re afraid of Austin or afraid of what he might do, but you know that he’s never quick to this emotion. So for him to be this upset? His buttons have to be pushed and pushed hard.

You feel like you should have known to just leave the bar that you’re at tonight altogether when you came in and you saw it was packed. It’s a place that you both have been to before, on dates, to hang out with friends and family, to just catch a quick drink before heading home after a long night on set. The entire makeup of the place tonight is just different given how crowded it is, people seem to have shorter fuses, tolerance, and the air is thick with a kind of tension that you can feel seeping into your pores long before Austin’s patience snaps.

But it was supposed to be an easy night of relaxation, of having a few beers, of maybe playing darts and picking up a 2AM pizza and eating it in bed together before crashing. When the first few comments from these guys around you started making things uncomfortable, you should have told Austin to close the tab and suggested heading out.

At first? It was kinda something that you were just ignoring because…it’s not the last time you’ll be out at a bar and guys are saying inappropriate things to you. Especially while drunk—you’ve learned the hard way that assholes will be opinionated no matter what. And giving these guys attention by either yelling at them or asking them to stop is just going to hype them up even more. You’re a woman and men, for the most part with a sparce few, suck. Cat-calling happens all the time and while you’re not saying it’s right? You don’t have the energy to deal with it.

Not to mention, sometimes, that when it happens and you’re alone—it’s not the safest approach to respond.

So a few comments float by while you’re at the bar with Austin, some of them you hear, other times it’s just a part of the loudness of people around you. Either way, you take a step closer to him and just enjoy the night, hoping it’ll just fizzle out on its own.

It doesn’t.

There’s these long string of moments where Austin goes to the restroom and you’re alone, doing your best to just ignore the lewd commentary coming from two or three guys a few bar stools over. You’re not about to look in their direction, give them a thrill or the time of day, but when Austin comes back he can tell you’re uncomfortable.

And then he hears it.

“Fine lookin’ piece of ass tonight at the bar.”

“Right? And usually this place is so fuckin’ dry.”

“Not tonight—you see the rack on her? Think she’s rentin’ by the hour? Could ask her—”

During the entire interaction, you can feel more than see Austin’s demeanor change beside you, the tensing of his body, the way his arm wraps around your waist to keep you close. You’re hoping he’s just going to let it go, maybe offer to go to a different section of the bar or better yet, leave altogether and find somewhere else to spend the night.

Austin leans back from the bar just enough to make sure his words land, “The fuck did you just say?”

The guys fall silent, just for a moment, startled that he’s actually said something to them. But this doesn’t deter them for long, there’s laughter which immediately sets Austin’s blue eyes alight. It’s obvious his blood is boiling and in any other situation? This might cause a shiver to course down your spine but your only concern right now is getting out of the bar without a horrible fight starting.

While you appreciate the gesture of Austin not letting these comments fly, it’s not worth throwing punches.

“We were wonderin’ if your girlfriend rents by the hour,” One guy slurs, taking another sip of beer, “Seems like a fuckin’ waste to keep her to yourself.”

Austin takes a strong step forward and you have to move quickly before you lose him, your hand falling to his chest, “Stop,” You insist, fingers digging into his shirt a little.

“Better listen to your lady, pal.”

You shake your head, tugging a bit on the fabric until he looks down at you. “Please,” And you can feel him relax, just slightly, when his eyes meet yours, “It’s not worth it, okay?”

The muscle in Austin’s jaw tightens before he lets out a short breath through his nose, “Of course it’d be worth it.” But he concedes, throwing cash on the bar counter before taking your hand and leading you out through the crowd.

The night air is cold and biting compared to the heated space of the bar, your skin prickling as a chill settles along your body. Austin doesn’t look back at you either, walking all the way to the end of the street with his hand firmly clasped around yours.

“Austin,” You try and then you pause at a crosswalk when the light changes, “Austin.”

He turns sharply at you saying his name and you…don’t have the words to tell him he’s squeezing your hand too hard when you get a good look at his face. He’s pissed. His breathing is a little off, eyes sharp like broken glass. The hand that he’s not holding quickly moves to cup his one cheek, running your thumb over the bone.

That seems to get him to restart, just slightly, taking a short, calming breath into his lungs and his grip loosens on your other hand. He tips his head back a little, sighing, running a hand through his hair.

“Nothin’ pushes my fucking buttons like that.” He comments, a slight twang in his voice leftover from Elvis when he’s upset.

You shake your head gently; he really doesn’t have to explain. “I know,” You mumble, running your thumb along his knuckles, back and forth in a soothing motion. “Definitely don’t need to be hittin’ people though.”

There’s a crack of a smile on Austin’s lips and from then on you know he’s genuinely calmed down, “Would be worth it though.” He lifts up the hands you both have laced together and presses a kiss to your fingers.

A soft sigh flutters out of your lips, a gentle eyeroll to follow even though it’s fond.

“I know I can’t protect you from everythin’, but sometimes I wish you’d let me protect you from the things I can control.”

And then that hits you a little differently, the warmth Austin obviously feels towards you rolling off in waves. You can’t help but smile up at him, touched that he wants to look out for you, even in frustrating moments like this. Maybe you need to realize that you deserve someone caring about you too—that idiots in a bar like that shouldn’t be able to just throw whatever comments they want in your direction and it just ‘be okay’.

“I mean—I guess throwin’ a punch would kinda be sexy, I dunno.” And you’re joking, of course, but the passion it represents in connection to what he’s said is still there.

Austin hums in amusement and slides his jacket off, the jean sherpa that he tends to wear out once the weather shifts into something cooler. He places it over your shoulders, drawing you close before crossing the street.

You’re not sure it’d be actually worth it to have Austin get into some sort of fist fight over you…but the sentiment is definitely there that he’d even be willing and worth more than you can put into words.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[chxrrylime]

Hi! I really love your writing and i have this idea stuck in my head for so long i just had to request it from you.

Angst about anyone from Cod characters you write with male reader.

They just returned from a mission or just had a hard week and are really overworked. They get mad about something small that the reader does and scream at him for it. The reader gets really sad and when they realize what they did they apologize to him. Maybe some soft smut at the end or whatever you want. I leave it to you.

I hope this is okay with you and thank you infront <3

It's suggestive at the end but nothing explicit! It's in the content tags but just want to mention outright that Soap and reader's relationship could be seen as a little unhealthy/abusive because of what happens, and I want to enforce there's never an excuse to hit your partner (unless it's a sexy consensual thing).

Soap x M!Reader ↪ 1575 words — ANGST.

Content tags — unhealthy relationship, arguments, borderline physical abuse, apologies, Soap's in a bad headspace.

Soap’s near blinding optimism often meant people neglected to realize just when he crossed the line into frustration, and sometimes rage. Rookies learned quickly that messing around with their sergeant was usually okay, but there was a certain point he would snap and have their asses handed to them. There were boundaries.

The 141 knew that nothing frustrated Soap more than red tape—the footering around by the brass that meant sitting and waiting when a potential target could be going into hiding, or worse, continuing to hurt people. It was times like those when the squad knew to leave him be and let him run or punch it out in the gym. 

Except, you were new enough to the team to not have seen that side of Soap just yet. Sure, a bit of scolding to the privates a few times, but not that festering rage that stemmed from Soap feeling useless.

So you had no frame of reference—not to mention, things had been going really smoothly with the most recent target. Smooth enough where you and Gaz got to sit out the last mission. 

You weren’t yet informed of how it went, Price having delayed debriefing since they’d gotten back so late, urging the boys to rest up and be back in his office in the morning.

And so you had no way of knowing that the whole thing had gone ass up—that they caught the guy but not before the intel they needed to actually pin him was wiped, so they had to let him go. Soap looked tired in Price’s office, brows a bit furrowed and eyes hard, but nothing to hint the magnitude of the storm in his head and chest.

It was late when you entered the kitchen, the overhead LEDs dimmed down and buzzing softly in the cool night air. Soap was hunched over at the metal table, a rocks glass brimming with amber liquid next to him as he slowly scrolled through something on his tablet. 

“Hi, Johnny,” you said softly, not wanting to startle him out of his focus. He didn’t even flinch, glancing up to you with a half-glare before returning to the screen. You frowned.

“Are you okay?” 

“Solid,” he responded stiffly, still not bothering to look at you, “get what you need and get out. I’m busy.”

You raised a brow at him. You wanted to argue that this was a common room—that if he was doing important work and wanted to be left alone then he should be in his room or one of the offices, not the fuckin’ kitchen. But he was using what you’d come to refer to as his sergeant voice. It meant there was no room there to even argue in the first place. The bastard was pulling rank on you.

You set your mouth into a straight line, puffing a sigh through your nose that Soap would usually ignore as an exhale of breath, though this time his head snapped up at you.

“Watch it,” he said lowly, and you barely managed to suppress the frightful shiver that tried to run down your spine.

“Sorry, sir,” you replied, monotone, body stiffening into loose attention. He eyed you for a long second, seemingly looking for something in your face you’re not sure he found as he returned to whatever was so important on his tablet. 

You let your muscles relax as his gaze left you, rounding the table to dig through the refrigerator, looking for a midnight snack. You heard Soap huff behind you at your rummaging, and your jaw tightened. What was his problem? Why was he treating you like this? Price and Ghost hadn’t seemed off when they’d come back—the mission couldn’t have been that bad, right?

You’d decided on a small bag of baby carrots. They were Price’s, and he’d be annoyed you’d taken them, but you knew it’d be fine if you just buy him a new bag next time you’re at the store. It’s not like he really ate them all that often anyway—as healthy as the man was, especially for his age, he was never really a raw vegetables kind of guy and at this point probably just bought them to feel like he was doing something for himself.

It’s just your fuckin’ luck as you close the fridge door and go to take a step back that your foot catches on absolutely nothing but the floor, and you topple back into the side of the table, trying to twist to brace yourself and only managing to smash the side of your head off the edge.

Soap launches up, knocking the chair back onto the floor with the force of his movement. The bottle of whiskey he’d had (for some god damn reason) near the edge of the table plummets to the ground, shattering barely a foot from your face and splattering liquor everywhere. 

“Are you out of yer fuckin’ mind!?” Soap shouts, accent thick, a laugh ripping through his words—not one of humor, but one that makes you wince and want to hide away. It’s dry and scary and far too loud.

You scramble onto all fours, little shards of glass sticking into your palms, about to stand when Soap grabs you by the collar of your shirt and yanks you up, spinning you and slamming you back against the counter, the hard marble digging into the base of your spine, knocking the wind out of you.

“What’s your damage!?” You growl, heaving, shoving hard at his chest and wincing as the glass shards dig a little deeper. He doesn’t budge, shaking you a little.

“You’re out of line!”

“You’re being a dickhead!”

You manage to catch his wrist before he even realizes he was about to hit you, his eyes wide as you glare down at him seconds before bashing your head against his, making him shout and stumble back, catching himself on the crooked table. 

He holds his forehead with one hand, groaning before looking up. You look furious, a line of blood dripping down your face where your head crashed together. Of course he’s not bleeding—literal hard-headed bastard. Dropped on his head as a kid too much, maybe.

You’re glaring, panting, and his eyes soften ever so slightly, regret and guilt rising in his throat like bile. 

“Fuck, Y/N—” he croaks out, reaching out for your arm. You shove him back again, pushing past him.

“Keep the hell away from me, Johnny.”

*

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, having spent the last hour picking out the glass shards with tweezers, now wrapping your hands with bandages when you hear a tentative knock on your door.

You don’t respond, but the door opens anyway. You already know who it is without looking up. The door closes behind him and you hear the click of the lock. Your shoulders tense. You keep your arms rested on your spread legs, head down as the soft foot falls approach you. You can see his boots come into view, and a gun calloused hand rests on your shoulder, gently pushing you to sit up straight so he can fit himself between your thighs. 

You glare up at him and he frowns. He looks sad. Regretful. Deep down you know he didn’t mean any of it—you know better than anyone that sometime in this profession you just snap. But it doesn’t make you any less angry, or at least any relevant amount less. 

You could handle being yelled out, fuck—even berated. When you fucked up that was part of the job. But you weren’t working, you thought you were with Soap, Johnny, not fucking Sergeant MacTavish. And yet the way he acted felt personal—that’s what broke you. That’s what made you fester with anger. You never thought he would raise a hand to you.

He does it again, now, raising his hand up. You flinch as he cups your cheek and it makes his heartbreak.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says quietly, voice thick with emotion, “I… I was in a bad headspace.”

“Yeah,” you say flatly, looking from those shining blue eyes to the window, the full moon shining brightly through the glass.

“I don’t want you to forgive me,” he swipes a thumb over your cheek, and his movements get your attention again as he slowly lowers to his knees, his big palms spreading out over your thighs, “take it out on me.”

“Johnny—”

“I-I need you to—” he cuts himself off, looking up at you eyes wide. He looks terrified. His hands squeeze your thighs hard and you place your own hands over them, “this is for you, but—if that’s, fuck, if that’s too much then I’m being selfish too. I need you to take me out o’ my head for a bit. So I stop feeling like… this.”

He gestures loosely between the two of you, but somehow you still understand. He needs to stop feeling like MacTavish. He needs something to force him out of that violent headspace—whatever happened on that mission trapped him in there, your Johnny only seeping through the cracks just enough to beg.

You run a gentle hand through his mohawk, waiting for his eyes to flutter shut before your grip tightens, tugging the strands hard. His eyes shoot open and he moans, pupils already beginning to blow out. 

“Okay, Johnny,” you murmur, pulling him toward your crotch, “make it up to me.”

#modern warfare #soap x reader #modern warefare 2 #john soap mactavish #soap x male reader #mine #angst

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l chapter five sneak peek

a/n📝 I know I just posted the last chapter like two days ago, but I decided I want to post a sneak peek of the next one now just because lmao. chapter five will be up later this week, I also have a pre out break Joel one shot in the works that hopefully I can post tomorrow night if work isn’t too crazy. thank you to everyone who reads my work, it means the whole world to me. writing has become my escape lately and being able to share it with you all has been so amazing 💗

You walked Ellie back over to the house and stood at the foot of the porch with her for a moment.

“Hey.” Ellie turned to you. “Is it alright if I like, give you a hug or something?”

Slightly surprised, you nodded. “Of course.”

She seemed almost hesitant at first, but she took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your waist tightly.

As you wrapped your own around her shoulders, it suddenly dawned on you that Ellie had asked for a hug not because she needed one—it was because she had realized that you needed one.

About a minute or two passed, and Ellie hadn’t let you go and it caused an emotional lump to rise to the back of your throat.

You buried your face right into her soft, brown hair as a fresh batch of warm tears sprang to your eyes and threatened to fall.

“Ellie,” You croaked out her name in an attempt to warn her.

“It’s okay,” she assured you, her head resting right on a spot on your chest where she could hear your pounding heartbeat and feel it against her cheek.

You let out a sob into her hair and your entire body shuddered, prompting her to squeeze you harder.

For the first time in over two years, you had finally allowed yourself to cry in front of someone else.

And for the first time in over two years, you finally didn’t feel so fucking alone.

Suddenly, the front door of the house swung open in such an aggressive manner that it startled both of you apart from one another.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathed out, letting out what sounded a lot like a sigh of relief as he came down the porch steps. “Ellie, what the hell are you doin’ out of bed at two in the goddamn mornin’? I went to check up on you and you were gone, it scared the fuckin’ shit out of me—” He stopped abruptly when he realized she wasn’t alone. He drew closer and even in the darkness he could clearly see the tears that streaked your face. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

“Nothing,” You said, quickly. “Sorry, Joel. She was with me. We were just at my house talking out on my front porch—”

He cut you off, demanding, “Why are you cryin’?”

Ellie looked between the two of you helplessly.

“Joel, it’s nothing, I promise it’s nothing,” You said as you desperately wiped at your face. “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” Joel turned to Ellie. “Go inside.”

“But Joel—”

He gave her a stern look and she sighed. She gave you one last quick hug before disappearing inside the house, closing the door behind her and leaving the two of you alone.

#joel miller x reader #;a safe haven #;ash

[awmancreeper]

♡Lonely Boy Will Stay Lonely?. 40 - One and Only

--❣︎ StayC’s Y/n is notorious for being K-pop’s social butterfly and making friends comes rather easy for her. When she’s asked to be an MC for Inkigayo, one of her co-hosts doesn’t seem too pleased to be working with her. This unknown feeling sparks a drive to become the bestest of friends with him but from the looks of it, he’ll fight her the whole way there.

Masterlist / prev / Epilogue

!!written parts!!

You anxiously waited in the living room with your members as they ranted about a terrible reality show. Your heart raced just thinking about what was going to happen and whether or not Kai would actually show up.

Beginning to worry about the possibility that he might’ve gotten caught you started to mess with your damp hair.

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t marry him after the 90 days” Yoon explained as the others agreed with her just as a buzz from the intercom startled them.

“What the-“ Seeun spoke as you quickly made your way to the intercom seeing a hooded figure looking down. Immediately recognizing the (awful) bape hoodie you quickly buzzed him in.

“It’s that him?” Sieun asked as you fiddled with your hoodie strings “Yeah- oh my god this was a bad idea!” The realization finally hits you as you begin to pace around the small living room.

“Why’d you girls convince me to let him come over?!” You shouted feeling your heart rate skyrocket and your palms get sweaty. “The slander!! We didn’t even know he was coming over until this morning” Sumin said holding her hand to her chest dramatically

“I think I’m sick! I’m sweaty and I feel like throwing up! I can’t see him like this tell him to go home!” You said trying to room away but Isa grabbed onto your hand “You’re just nervous y/n it’ll be fine”

“Yeah stop freaking out” J added throwing a grape into her mouth.

You tried to steady your breathing as Isa held onto your hands.

This was Huening Kai for Pete's sake, the guy you didn’t leave alone until he became your friend. He was down to earth and could make you laugh without even trying. Remembering how easy it was to talk to him you feel your cheeks begin to cool down.

Finally opening your eyes you exhaled a deep breath “I like him” you confessed to the girls around you. They blinked unfazed “Uh yeah tell us something we don’t know” Yeeun said resulting in a smack from Sumin.

“Is it obvious?!” You asked them worriedly as all of them shook their head in response. “I’m doomed” Dread flooded your body again throwing yourself on the floor.

*ding dong*

Everyone’s attention locked on the door while all the color drained from your face, “Oh my fuckin god!” Sumin shouted as they all began to freak out. You shakily stood up trying to calm down again when a voice broke through the chaos

“You got this y/n! Just remembered how much he hated you!!” Yoon said giving you a thumbs up as they all rushed into the kitchen to hide

“Helpful!” you quietly yelled making your way to the door.

Your hand trembled while you held the door knob, there was no turning back.

With the door now opened a comfortable scent of vanilla with a hint of musk masked by fabric softener greets you. Looking up you see Kai smiling down at you behind the mask

~~~~

Facing your bedroom door you closed it trying to calm your nerves. You turn, making eye contact with the tall boy that stood awkwardly in the middle of your room. Though it wasn’t just the boy but rather the whole atmosphere of the room, it was awkward and quiet.. too quiet.

Think about what your members might be doing at this very moment you can envision them hushing each other to hear what might be going on in the maknaes’ room.

Realizing people might actually be able to hear you and Kai, you dreaded starting the conversation. Even so, looking at Hyuka you can tell it wouldn’t be him to break the ice. So with a deep exhale, you did what you do best; spoke.

“I uh,…” breaking the silence practically rocking on your heels “I really appreciate what you did Kai, thank you” you told him.

Kai blinked as if he had stopped daydreaming. Lifting his hand to rest behind his neck, Hyuka slouched “It was the right thing to do y/n,”

“To be honest I should’ve done it sooner” he told you giving you a slanted smile.

“I know but in our line of work doing things like that will get you dropped” you spoke up with a serious tone. Kai looked down at his shoes “I know but I still stand by it”

Again it began to grow quiet.

You hadn’t been this stuck since the first time you got to know him. Trying to find a way to keep this non-existent conversation going your eyes searched around your room for… pretty much anything, soon landing on your wall.

Your wall…

That was filled with txt posters. Although it was embarrassing to have pictures of the guy that is currently in your room plastered on the walls you need a conversation starter.

“Don’t pay too must attention to my-” you said already feeling the teasing you might endure from him as you turned back around at him to see Kai staring at you. Blood rushed to your face while the hairs on the back of your neck stood up “Look! Look at my posters” you rambled grabbing his arm and pulling towards your side of the room. He chuckled moving his attention to the wall

“Wow I see” Kai nodded looking at the prints on the wall. To Huening Kai it wasn’t an awkward silence, more like he was silently admiring you since he hasn’t been able to see you for about a week. Even so, he humored your request to look at pictures of him and his friend although he much rather look at you.

He needed to tell you why he was here. It was time

“Y/n-“Kai turned to look at you but you were busy pacing around your room. It seemed like you were trying to figure something out. “Hey are you okay-?”

“Why’d you do it?” You asked him accidentally cutting him off

He blinked “I already told you why” Kai spoke

“Kai besides my group you were the only one who spoke out”

Kai sat on the bed filled with plushes, and shrugged “I’d do it again to”

Your heart flipped at his words and it didn’t help that he looked so cute just sitting there. You quickly turn away from him resting your hand against the wall as your ears burned. “Woah calm d-“

“I like you.”

Kai felt his heartbeat in his throat “What?” He spoke before thinking

You turned to him cheeks stained with pink “I like you, Huening Kai!”

“And not in a friend-like but a like-like you know”

He froze as his mind felt like it was going to explode.

“Look I know you don’t have the best opinion on me because I annoy you and you think I’m stuck up but… I think you’re pretty cool

I’ve never felt this way before even with Soobin if that’s hard to believe” You laughed as your eyes began to well up.

You looked at him giving him a straight smile “You’ve made it very clear that you only see me as a friend and I respect that but you do things that make me feel like I have a shot”

“So please tell me Kai do I? Cause if I do I won’t stop trying until you like me like I like you but if not

I’ll walk out right now… even if this is my house”

His expression was blank resulting in tears falling from your eyes. Did you just embarrass yourself, in your own room

“Kai?” your voice squeaked

“No” his voice was cold

Your breath hitched as your knees went weak, buckling under you. Meeting the floor, all your senses shut down only feeling the wooden floor underneath your hands. Your chest ached as your vision blurred with all the tears flowing out of your eyes. It was stupid of you to believe that this guy who previously hated; could see you more than a friend.

You had already told yourself he wouldn’t feel the same way in the hopes of avoiding this pain but it still hurt as it didn’t change how your heart beat for him.

Now the shards of your heart are being broken into tinier pieces as he continuously to repeat the word “no”

You held the crown of your head while your forehead rested on the ground trying to compose yourself “Right” you spoke slowly trying to pick yourself up “No, No ,No! This wasn’t supposed to happen like this!” He said standing up and looking over at you as you slowly crawled your way to the bedroom door.

Kai rushed over to you joining you on the ground. He grabbed your head to make you look at him. Your eyes were red and flowed with tears while your lips were swollen and red from biting them to conceal the sobs. Even now looking at Kai you tried not to cry

“Y/n I like you”

It felt like your heart broke over again, unsuccessfully blinking the tears out of your eyes trying to see him, you spoke “B-but you”

“But I what?” He held your face confused

“IDIOT!!, You need to learn to speak faster!” You yelled hitting Kai crying. “Ow!” He yelps pulling away from you as you show no mercy

“You just broke my heart, you meanie!”

“Okay okay, and you’re breaking my shoulder!” Kai whined holding his eyes shut

A few hits later they stop.

Opening his eyes, he sees you sniffling sitting cutely on the floor with the cutest pout. His heart jumped at the sight

Scooting closer Kai nervously grabs your hand, “You’re an amazing person y/n, not to mention everything about you is beautiful”

“It’s true I didn’t care much for you-“

“You didn’t like me”

“I didn’t like you,

Actually, I hated you yet I think that’s what showed me who you really were

Although you knew I wasn’t a fan of you, you still went out of your way to make sure I was doing fine and included me in conversations

It's like you knew I was awkward with new people and besides my group, I'm a loner but you…

You’re funny and pretty, people love you, not to mention you're beyond selfless.

You’re quite literally perfect y/n, and I couldn’t just let people tear you down because of… me

You asked me why I did it,

I did it because I know you'd do the same for me”

Kai placed one of his hands on your cheek “i like you y/n, and I wanted to be the first to say it but you just kept on talking,

Yet I adore that about you. I guess I'll just have to one-up you”

You smiled “think you already did”

“I don’t wanna stay lonely anymore, I want you to be my one and only” you laughed placing your forehead against his “Of course my lonely boy ”

“Also… C-can I kiss you?” Kai asked embarrassingly. You looked at him his face was red, grabbing onto the sides of his face you brought him in.

Although shocked by your sudden action, Kai quickly recovered melting into the kiss.

If you’ve told Kai 7 months ago he’d be kissing his arch nemesis, he’d call you just as delusional as y/n but now there’s no other place he’d rather be

Meanwhile, with Y/n, she’d consider it a possibility I mean who doesn’t love Y/n

You pulled away to see Kai practically chase after you. You giggle making him open his eyes “Did you just reference a txt song?” You asked

~~~~~ bonus scene ~~~~~

“So you’re not going back to Inkigayo?” You questioned as you and Kai headed for the room door. He shook his head “Nah both Ji and I decided to step down from MCing”

“Huh and HYBE is letting you?”

“I’m grounded so I can’t go anyways”

“Was the punishment that bad?” You placed your hand on the doorknob “Honestly I expected worse but since people are giving the credit to my statement to HYBE it’s good publicity”

“Interesting?” You spoke opening the door and revealing all of STAYC stacked up in the door way most likely listening into your conversation. “Congratulations?” Sumin spoke.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @txtbrainrot @azinwo @mackjestic @mangobee @ggggghost @adajoemaya @kainkhemistry @suzirumas @amareoverall @owotalks @justemalove @kaisdefender @aloverga @myahwritesss @justiceya @loopycorn1123 @amara-mars @samvagejkflxhrt @iraa567 @liinori @reinahwanggg @bangchansbae @heyitssarah63 @txtmetonight @lilyidk03 @roseidol @heymickyy @sofia-rom @beoms-sugar @ndriixx @myknifeyourlife @jackass1123 @fanfangying1304 @jenofairy (CLOSED)

#tomorrow x together #kpop smau #kpop #fem reader #txt smau #txt fluff #huening kai #hyuka x reader #huening kai x reader #idol smau

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Lmfao N says fuck fic how original

[SNAP]

"So, N..." Uzi sits down on her Spinny Chair Of Genius™, as she likes to call it, as N sits on a beanbag. "Since i am your new apparent admin, this means i have some form of control over you and V, yeah?"

"I guess?" N shrugs "I mean- i don't know, i'm not the human that made me, i don't know my inner workings..."

He suddenly has a small thought start to grow in his head, and immediately lets it slip out of curiosity. "Wh- what are you trying to do?? Are you gonna look through my settings..?" He scratches his head in a bashful manner, blushy as it's literally some very delicate and probably private stuff.

Uzi grins like the absolute gremlin she is, sharp teeth shining like the blade of a knife, as she fidgets with her fingers at the most chaotic thought she's had so far. Key word being: so far.

"I'm just gonna make a test, nothing harmful~" She giggles. N looks at Uzi with a metaphorical drop of sweat running down his visor as he thinks of the times Cyn giggled back in the mansion. She definetly made giggles way less scary than Uzi's.

Next day...

It started with Uzi's alarm going off. She slaps her own visor, turning it off, and promptly gets up. N seems to be deep in his sleep... Wonder what he's dreaming about? She kinda hopes it's her, but it's not something she'll reveal to any one schmuck at ALL, so thank me later.

i don't want to kill you. i don't want to kill anymore. i need you. don't go. don't leave me. please. i don't want to kill you. the universe is at risk. i can't lose more people in my life. i have to protect the universe. but you are my universe. please. no. don't go. please. i love you. i'm sorry.

XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDDISASSEMBLYREQUIREDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD

M1S5 M3? :)

"N!!" He wakes up screaming, startling Uzi who's sitting conviniently really close and in front of him. On top of his lap. Like in those bits in movies where the love interest is uncomfortably close to the main character. Like that. Yeah.

"Hi Uziii...??" N whispers in bashful surprise as she processes the situation. Okay so i'm sitting here right in front of him and he just woke up and sat up really close to my face it's looking like something else is gonna happen and oh my robo-god i am going to fuckin' pass out hhhhh-

"aaaaaooOKAYWEGOTTAGOORELSEWERELATETOTHEFUCKINGSCHOOLSHITAAAA" N yelps Uzi pushes him away by the face in a rush. N gets back up to yell (but like- not angry or anything, more like yelling so she hears him clearly) "Language! Your dad's around, you know?? It's why i say"biscuits" instead, i don't wanna be rude!". It's a long pause of silence as he thinks, realizing... "How can you even swear at all by the way???"

It started with a horrible, terrifying, traumatic, very lore heavy nightmare along with a scare and rush to school. This day is certainly not gonna go all too well and i am here for it he's boutta SNAP lol.

Next it was Lizzy doing her usual popular girl spoiled brat bullshit, and N cannot kill her because murder as a whole is wrong and it's no solution to anything at all. Uzi knows this and it bothers her so much more than i can describe.

Next was the teacher being this smug idiot doing whatever, giving the class a dumb thing to do without caring about anything, only looking through his phone either busy with other work or straight up messing around. Uzi and N are very much bothered by this and Uzi wants to speak up... Which she does. To no avail, as the teacher ran out of fucks to give. N just tolerates and tries to lighten up the mood by being his friendly self (got a dude and a chick head over heels for him and he doesn't realize, thinks they're just extra friendly), but it's mostly very little effect. All because he doesn't wanna be rude. It's gonna get real soon enough though.

Next was the discrimation towards N, as he is a Disassembly Drone and they're pretty scared of him... Well at least it's not ALL of them, some are very much enjoying his presence. Why that is i'll tell you in the dms because i don't think i can say it here lmfao.

Next was the teasing. Yes some drones in the school figured out the whole Nuzi shebang and are now teasing them about it. "Hey purple girl, how's the biting like?", "How does your murder buddy kiss? I'm just curious~", "How's it like living with a small girl like her? Bet she likes it when you pick her up~", "N you are so much better than her, there's that other murderous girl out there that killed Doll's parents, she seems right up your ally!", and it just doesn't stop. Ever. N is genuinely bothered by this, he's very uncomfortable.

Inconvience after inconvience, minor and major, impactful and not, it just doesn't friggin' STOP.

Luckily that's all there is, they're going home! Albeit not very happy but they're going to their comfortable space of a home nonetheless!

But i did say he's gonna snap at some point.

"Uzi, have you seen my glasses? I gotta read something important" Says Khan, not actually needing glasses as he's a robot, he can see just fine, but everyone in Copper 9 is all mimicking humans so Khan doesn't realize that and needs glasses anyway.

"I'm getting them, Mr. Uzi!" N chirps, happy to help like all the time, as he jumps up from his seat and walks around, looking for Khan's glasses. "Thanks, Uzi's very lucky to have you as this potential boyfriend!" Uzi lets out a very UNHOLY screech of embarrassment as she yells "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND". N does sigh at this, but he's too busy looking for Khan's glasses to care.

"Ooh! There you are!" N whips out a pair of glasses from inside... Uzi's wardrobe?? Does she prank him often??? Anywho, he found the glasses!

"I got 'em Mr. Uzi!! I found them in Uzi's wardrobe which is very weird and raises a few questions but i found them nonetheless!!" Khan processes the statement and wheezes as a response.

"What? What's funny??" N is very confused. Khan chuckles as he pats N in the back, "What just happened while i was sleeping was that Uzi just hid them away as a prank of sorts, she's very mischievous!" He's giggling as he explains, and so does N because come on it's funny how could he not?

Oh and N drops the glasses in his giggle fit. Resulting in them breaking upon landing. They stop laughing as they notice this.

N's eye twitches as his hands vibrate.

"N it's okay, i'll just get new ones-" says Khan, immediately interrupted by the next paragraph under this one

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Khan is startled and frozen up in shock. Uzi heard that from the other room and is also shocked. If there were birds in Copper 9 they would fly away in flocks.

"Are you- are you okay-" Khan's interrupted again. "NO I'M NOT OKAY SHIT JUST KEPT HAPPENING AND I'M FUCKING PISSED ABOUT THAT AND BECAUSE I COULDN'T FUCKING DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. SON OF A BITCH THEY KEPT ON TEASING ME AND BEING WEIRD AROUND ME AND OH MY FUCKING GOD WHY CAN'T I JUST BE TREATED LIKE A NORMAL FUCKING DRONE?!?!?!"

Khan is frozen in shock as Uzi silently giggles to herself from the other room. "It worked! I turned off his filter holy shit it worked eheheheheee!"

"I'M... I'm going outside for a breather, be right fuckin' back" N storms out through the front entrance, as Khan holds a hand out trying to stop him, "it's sunny outside, careful-" but it was too late.

"FUUCK!!" And so N storms right back in, with burns on his casing, "I'm going to Uzi's room then"

"I DID IT!!" Uzi whisper-yells to herself. Somehow.

Twas a very loud and messy day, hope you enjoyed this lmao

#murder drones #serial designation n #uzi doorman #nuzi #khan doorman #lizzy murder drones #tw swearing #like a LOT it's really scary #spooker's writing #also yeup lotta Nuzi in there lol it's fucking adorable and funny as hell haha