#if you didn’t like it it’s fine. If everyone stay polite it’s ok

[fantomette22]

Thoughts on the Plain Doll (long post ahead)

« There’s a LOT to say about the plain doll but for now I will only talk about why I think she was made in the first place. What’s her original purpose ? »

If you played Bloodborne, you certainly know the Doll. The Plain Doll. A ray of light and comfort in this horrible night of the hunt. In this nightmare. 

She’s a sentient and animate doll in the Hunter’s dream. In the real world she’s not. She’s just a doll, in an abandoned old workshop (but is she really just that ?) Even if she’s not a real human being she’s much more than just a doll or an animated object.

Surprisingly some actions she does are closer to the one of a human. A doll wouldn’t need to sleep or to breathe right ? and yet she does. (Doll don’t shed tears or blood ? Well it’s not human tears or human blood but… she does that too…).

She’s not just “animated” she genuinely seems to have at least a little part of a human soul. (But not enough to be fully human…). Why and how she came to life remain a some kind of mystery. Well we can guess but we will probably never know in detail what happened. When was she animated?  When the dream was create ? Some time after ? Who knows...

Well I’m not planning to talk about this for now, no. I wanted to talk about something a bit different. 

There’s a LOT to say about the plain doll but for now I will only talk about why I think she was made in the first place. What’s her original purpose ? 

I know it’s kind of a sensitive subject. I don’t want to start anything and it’s not a way to continue anything. I just want to share my thoughts and maybe offer a different view on this topic to people who like Bloodborne and are looking for differents takes. Who are doing research to try to learn more & understand this amazing game more. (Personally, I would have like a lot to find more things like this when I began my own researches).

First allow me to explain how much I love her. Before even playing the game I already really like her. For the first few dozen hours of my first run she was my favorite character (yes my first run took me 100h that’s why).

So, There’s many interpretations and speculations about the doll. I’m not going to talk about everything or we never going to finish (i won’t go into detail about Maria, Gehrman or the winter lanterns for exemple) So I will concentrate only one main thing (+ minors interpretations). The main idea I believe about is that originally, the doll is supposed to be a mourning doll.

So what’s a mourning doll ?

First, we need to talk a bit about the Victorian era (Europe, XIXe century) and their custom about death. Some things they did to honored and remember their dead were really differents from what we do today. We could even say they are disturbing today. Death was something more common (expecially among children) and a less taboo subject. They had post-death pictures (a last photography of someone who is already dead like they were still alive, sometimes taken alongside relatives who are still alive), death mask (plaster mask of the face of the deceased person), jewelry made with hair and morning dolls.

So mourning dolls. They were made to represented a dead child. Help the family grief, to honor their memory, to remember them. That depend the age of the child but they were a lot smaller that the true size of the child. It was quite expensive to make so not everyone could order one . It was generally the size of an infant/baby or a small child, for the bigger one. 

They were made in the likeness of the child  they were supposed to represent. Usually the clothes they wear belong to the child. Sometimes the hair of the doll came from the dead infant as well.

After the funeral the dolls were usually place on the grave of the lost child. But sometimes they were kept by the family. Placed resting in the crib. And sometimes aven taken care of. We could say they were some sort of surrogate children ? They filled the emptiness left during grief.

I believe it correspond with the doll. Even if of course the doll is not based on a child but on an adult woman. (And she’s scale 1/1 and 2 meters tall..)

We know that the doll is based on Lady Maria. She might have die a big while before the event of the game. And we know that Gehrman probably made the doll, (at least her clothes. Thanks to the description. They were made with great love) after the death Maria (it makes the most sense).

"Discarded doll clothing, likely a spare for dress-up."  "A deep love for the doll can be surmised by the fine craftsmanship of this article, and the care with which it was kept."  "It borderlines on mania, and exudes a slight warmth."

So I think this work whatever the interpretations of the relationship between Maria & Gehrman you believe in.

(Ok maybe not the creep one. I’m not really a fan of this one though? But that depend I guess… she’s the only one doll we saw in the game. So this method of coping with her loose might be quite unusual for Yharnam. By the way a lot of things on this subject are in fact mistranslations).

Anyway if you consider the father/ daughter relationship it completely make sense ! He made a mourning doll based on his daughter/ daughter figure ! Completely in the theme. And also on the theme of the great one losing their child and earning for a surrogate.

Now, about the second big interpretation(s) (romantic/ oneside feelings etc) I believe it work too. Her looses disturbed him so much he made the doll for the reason people made one.  So yes it’s not the usually reason why people made morning dolls but I think it has the same final purpose. To honored her memory and to have something to take care of.

Remember how mourning dolls can be placed next to the grave too?

Well now I can’t saw this the same ever again… if you consider this is indeed Maria’s grave. 

My thoughts on this topic

About the doll face / appearance :

So it’s basically the same as Maria (almost). The « cracks » is probably because the painting on the faces is really old and hasn’t been done in quite some times. The grave is half broken because of the plants too.. it’s been awhile since nobody take care of them in the real world. Still, the doll is in a pretty good state.

Her face is a bit pale too… with dark circle under her eyes, white/ grey hair…a bit weird ? Did Maria really look like this before her death ? (When we fight her she looks more dead too…)

She could not have been in really good health and that’s why… but there’s another explanation.

The doll could be base on Maria after her death. But I don’t think he just take her corpse as a model and made the doll directly based on that… my view is the same as the following :

The last memory he have of her is probably after her death. The sight might have such a huge impact on him that unconsciously he made her that way / he could only remember her looking like this.

About the clothes.

Some tend to criticize a lot Gehrman about it. I don’t really agree with this view.

First we know that Maria stop being a hunter and took care of the research hall. And throw away her Rakuyo. 

The doll clothes are not made for fighting (really low defense. Only a little fire def like all the other Yharnamites clothes + probably a good quality fabric. It’s one one the most expensive set you can sell too). (And the cainhurst dress cost nothing 😭).

So that kinda respect her wish right ? Even if she never wear that kind of clothes maybe Gehrman wanted to give her comfortable and nice clothes, far from the hunt.  There’s a lot of layers it’s proper and really respectful. Yes she even got an orange short trousers underneath her skirt :

(And that came from a girl who doesn’t wear a lot of feminine clothes XD ! No dress, no skirt…).

And maybe she did wear such clothes, outside of the hunt. (The one we get who have an extra bow tie is describe are the spare set, that Gehrman probably made. We don’t know about the first one but it might be the same thing too?)

Maybe it’s even hers. Remember how morning dolls can wear the original child clothes ? (there's the pendentif too!) (+ the clothes are black and look like mourning clothes too).

Or maybe she begin to wear this when she begin to work at the research hall. Ok i know the patient are blind but maybe it wasn’t always the case ? A Lady Hunter sight like Maria will certainly scare quite some of them. But someone who is more like the doll we know? You would certainly trust her faster. 

Both even have almost the same boots ! I find it a bit modern even ? I’m not sure people wear that type of clothes together ? It remind me of something more modern. Like a dress/ skirt with some doc/ boots.

_ _ _

Also need to talk shortly about the cut content. Original the doll wasn’t was probably not a mourning doll. Bloodborne had multiple rewriting of it’s story + a lot of cut content so originally the doll was based on a different character (Queen Annalise. She was supposed to be a surrogate for the child of the Vileblood/ cut umbilical cord description ver 1.0/ but well it was retcon. And after it was someone else (when the apprentice, Gehrman & the doll were 3 differents characters) and after she was based on Lady Maria). 

But what I always found fascinating was that she seems to be a mixt from someone from Cainhurst (clothes/look) and the Healing church (black skirt, woman salute of the church…). It was probably so intriguing before dlc.

When I saw this it clicked in my head !

Other complementary interpretations / minor interpretations : 

Also it could be a desperate way to bring her back + to reach the next level of evolution.

I’m not sure that Gehrman really wanted to animated the doll in the real world but it’s also an idea I like 👍 so maybe he did ask help from the Moon Presence too.

Or Flora noticed that Gehrman was growing more and more tired and sad and all and was like : Tada! I made you a friend to keep you company. Using the doll of the person you care a lot about. That make you Happy right ? Right ?

Another idea I like, is how the church/ Laurence could be involve in the creation of the doll. 

Trying to bring back the soul of someone into an artificial body. Who doesn’t age, doesn’t get sick, doesn’t bled, you can change the part of… isn’t it’s on the theme as to try to evolve humanity to the next stage of evolution ? Closer to the great one ?

And I read a really cool theory on Reddit (Can’t find it again…) about how the winter lanterns are dolls yes but created by the church/Mensis to take care of Mergo/ help hunters in the nightmares. But  they get corrupted… (The common ideas is that the winter lanterns are some sort of nightmare of our hunter/ Maria / Gehrman / patient of the research hall. And I agree with this too.

So hm… that was long. There’s really a lot to say about Bloodborne, the lore and the characters. I could talk about it for hours maybe.

Thank you for reading this ! I hope it was interesting. I wish we can talk more about this subject nicely if you want to add something ! Thank you :)

#plain doll #bloodborne #bloodborne thoughts #I finally finished it ! #i had a 8hours flight I had a bit of time XD #it's quite long sorry about the fault & I'm so tired #if you didn’t like it it’s fine. If everyone stay polite it’s ok #I would prefer that you ignore this post if it’s to start a not so nice argument thank you. #It’s just my thought and interpretation that wanted to write down and share #i will made an appendix / add some links later of similar view later #I hope I didn't forget anything...x) #bloodborne theory #the doll #gehrman the first hunter #lady maria of the astral clocktower #mourning doll #tell me what you think! #the plain doll

[atrwriting]

trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader

hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was

informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know

as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash

anyway.... here's trust me:

when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.

a lot of it.

and an old building.

the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.

the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.

within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.

until one day. that day.

you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.

mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?

that was dangerous. too dangerous.

even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.

on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?

you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.

when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.

you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“ma’am?”

you turned around.

a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.

but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.

you smiled. “another drink, sir?”

“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”

you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”

he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”

you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”

“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”

you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”

he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”

“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”

“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”

“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”

you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.

“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.

and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.

the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.

billy, on the other hand… did not agree.

one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.

“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”

“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”

you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”

“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.

you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”

the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.

as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”

“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”

“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”

“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”

“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”

“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”

you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.

the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.

you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.

“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”

you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.

“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”

you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”

“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”

“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.

through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”

“pay. the. tab.”

he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.

“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”

that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.

“time for you to leave, friend.”

the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”

“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.

the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.

you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.

but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”

you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”

“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”

“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”

“‘s my job.”

“i know… but still,” you spoke.

you were continuing to close before he spoke again.

“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.

“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”

“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”

you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”

“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“

“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”

from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.

he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.

you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.

but he kept that to himself.

however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.

“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.

you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”

to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.

but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.

“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”

“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.

there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”

“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”

you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.

if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...

that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.

the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.

“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.

billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.

“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”

a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.

“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”

there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.

you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.

it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.

“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”

jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.

“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”

you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”

he tipped his hat to you.

“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”

without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.

you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“

“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”

a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”

“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.

you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.

“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.

“knocked,” he bit.

you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”

“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”

you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”

“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”

you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”

you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.

he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.

you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.

no. you couldn't.

you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.

“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”

“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”

“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”

“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.

“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.

billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.

“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”

“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”

“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.

he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”

you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”

he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.

“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.

“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.

“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.

“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.

you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.

you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.

“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.

you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.

“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”

“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”

“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“

“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”

that shut you right up.

billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.

…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.

“what — what —“ you stammered.

“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”

you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.

“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.

his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.

“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.

“look at me, sweetheart.”

your eyes glanced back up to him.

like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.

“y’trust me?” he asked.

you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“say it.”

you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”

instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.

that was when his fingers picked up speed.

and, god… did it feel damn good.

“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”

“still trust me?”

“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”

he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.

“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”

you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.

“something — feels —“

“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.

“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“

“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”

and that was it.

the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.

a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.

“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.

“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”

it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”

“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”

“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”

his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”

“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”

he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.

“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”

“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”

you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.

“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”

you nodded, half ignoring him.

but it didn’t hurt.

the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.

“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“

“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”

“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.

you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.

billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.

that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.

“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”

“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.

“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”

you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”

his hips snapped against you. hard.

maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.

“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”

his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.

“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”

“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.

billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”

you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.

“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”

you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.

his touch. only his touch.

“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”

the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.

“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“

“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”

he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.

with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.

his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.

he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.

“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“

he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.

“billy — you didn’t —“

“s’alright, darlin’—“

“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”

“that... thing?”

“with my mouth.”

he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.

“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”

his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.

he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.

you tried to hide your smirk from him.

he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.

"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.

he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.

you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.

"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.

you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"

you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.

that shut him up.

a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.

you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.

but you did anyway.

you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.

"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."

you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.

you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.

tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.

you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.

both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.

above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?

he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.

"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"

"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.

the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.

"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."

you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.

"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."

you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.

"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"

he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.

"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."

you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."

"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."

you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.

"on one condition," you spoke.

his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.

"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."

"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."

---

what did we think?? xox

-L

#billy the kid #William h bonney #william h bonney x reader #kid antrim #billy the kid x reader #william bonney #William bonney smut #billy the kid smut #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time. 

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!” 

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you. 

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too. 

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile. 

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness. 

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname. 

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance. 

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’. 

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise. 

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly. 

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin. 

“Do you want us to call you that now?” 

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that? 

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.  

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him. 

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again. 

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing. 

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively. 

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be. 

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently. 

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions. 

How could you willingly let go of that? 

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment. 

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them. 

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within. 

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty? 

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s. 

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air. 

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head. 

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea. 

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered. 

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to. 

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you. 

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago. 

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could. 

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down. 

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong. 

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon. 

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn. 

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems. 

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage. 

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses. 

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons. 

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes. 

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him. 

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle. 

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight. 

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it. 

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically. 

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting. 

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights. 

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt. 

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments. 

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him. 

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were  listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.  

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go. 

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.” 

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.  

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce. 

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise. 

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor. 

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out. 

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street. 

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead. 

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot. 

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear. 

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders 

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field. 

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill. 

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face. 

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee. 

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else. 

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves. 

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!”  he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats. 

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.” 

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes. 

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?” 

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front. 

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed. 

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.” 

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching. 

Speaking of- 

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms. 

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat. 

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind. 

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets. 

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead. 

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements. 

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough. 

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could. 

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you. 

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes. 

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost. 

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?” 

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives. 

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.” 

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes. 

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times. 

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance. 

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths. 

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building. 

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe. 

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new��something you hadn’t encountered before. 

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it. 

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown. 

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered. 

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you. 

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now… 

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

[stevesbipanic]

Inspired by this post by @liightsnow

Steve had always been quick to open his home to his friends.

It began of course with allowing Tommy to throw big parties at his house since Steve’s parents were away, later he would open his home to the kids to have a safe place to just be kids. Steve enjoyed having his friends around and it helped fill the silence of his usually empty house. So it was no surprise that when Eddie needed a new location for Hellfire, Steve was the first to volunteer.

He and Eddie had gotten close as Eddie recovered in hospital, he was fun to be around, loud and bright in a way that pushed away the thoughts as to how Eddie ended up in the bed in the first place. Wayne was appreciative of Steve keeping his nephew company while he was at work and Steve always reassured him that it was no trouble, most of the time Steve stayed even when Wayne was there.

There was one issue with hosting Hellfire however, the Hellfire boys. Jeff, Gareth and Grant had visited Eddie a few times after school, all their parents keeping them at home when they could after the “earthquake”, Steve always excused himself allowing Eddie to have time with his friends. Steve couldn’t blame the wary looks that they’d send him, he knew who he was in high school, even Eddie had assumed the same.

This lead Steve to now as he opened the door to the three boys, who were last to arrive. They all nodded politely at Steve before heading straight to where Eddie was calling them in the dining room. At first Steve tried to make himself seem friendly and approachable to them, demonstrating that he had changed since his years of being King of Hawkins High. He set out snacks and got people drinks, even remembering which drinks Eddie had told them were their favourites, but all he got were polite smiles and glances towards Eddie. After receiving similar treatment when he brought them lunch, Steve gave up his attempts and retreated to his bedroom to wait out the rest of the game.

Steve curled into a ball on his bed, knees tucked tightly under his chin as he wrapped his arms around is legs. He got an eerie sense of déjà vu to when he was a child and his mother would send him up to his room once he’d been “showed off” to the guests. His purpose complete and he was no longer needed, Hellfire had what they needed to finish their game without them.

Steve heard joyous cries downstairs and wished for a moment he would’ve been able to stay and watch. Everyone always sounded so happy when the game concluded, and he knew Eddie told the best stories. He knew he couldn’t though, he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone, especially Eddie’s friends.

He was getting ready to go downstairs and clean up, another thing similar to his mother’s parties, when there was a knock at his door.

“Stevie? You ok in there?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, Eds, I’m fine, game finished then?” Steve replied as Eddie entered the room.

“Yeah, it was great, you should’ve stayed to watch Gareth made the best final attack, you have a headache or something, why are you hiding up here?”

“Oh, um,” Steve looked down at his hands, “Thought I’d just be in the way down there, didn’t want to spoil the fun.”

Eddie made a face at this, “Spoil the fun? Sweetheart, everyone would’ve loved you to stay and watch, might get Dustin off your back about playing.”

Steve shook his head, “Your friends don’t really like me much, which I get, it’s fine, glad you guys had a place to play though.”

“Steve why did you offer up your place if you didn’t want to watch? And the guys think you’re fine what’re you talking about, did one of them say something?”

“You guys needed a place to play and I have an empty house, need to be useful someway now that there’s no monsters to fight and my parents cut me off, and no, no one said anything but they always act weird around me.”

“Fuck Stevie, you’re more than just someone useful you know that right? I’d want you around just because I like you around, sweetheart, you don’t have to earn that by offering your house.”

“You sure?”

“Very sure, wasn’t getting better in Casa Harrington, was I? Got better cause I had my favourite jock beside me.” Steve blushed at that. “And as for my friends, I think I know the reason they’re acting weird around you,” Eddie said guiltily.

“Why?”

“Might’ve told them not to embarrass me in front of you,” Eddie said sheepishly.

“Why wouldn’t you want them to- oh,” Steve smiled softly, “Eddie Munson did you want to look cool in front of me because you like me?”

“Would it be bad to say yes?”

Steve lent over and kissed Eddie’s cheek softly, “Not at all.”

When the boys returned downstairs holding hands to find the others cleaning up, Jeff let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck you got your shit together Eddie, Harrington can you make those sandwiches again next time, I don’t know what you put in them but Gare ate like 5.”

“Hey, you would’ve eaten just as many if there were any left!”

Steve laughed, “Sure, will make them a Hellfire staple every week.”

The following week Steve was met by wide grins when he opened the door, and celebrated with the party when they defeated Eddie’s villain. Sitting on Eddie’s lap to watch the campaign was a good new perk too.

#steve harrington #light angst ending with fluff #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #hellfire #hellfire boys

[acciopietro]

Ok so I just read your “Bad Idea” smut and it was amazing! Can you do one where the roles are reversed? Like y/n has the sex pollen infect her?

combining with request #2: Hey 🧍🏻‍♀️ this is my first time ever requesting smut so- I feel super awkward 😅, I was wondering if you could write Pietro maximoff eating (fem?) reader out on a couch (or gn reader, anything you want :)

a week’s isolation - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! reader

summary: the strange plant thor brought to earth from asgard is housed in the lab on the upmost floor of the compound, it’s pollen safely contained; your room, however, is right below it. too bad they forgot to seal the vents.

word count: 3,878

tw: smut smut smut. oral (f receiving). apologizing in advance. both parties are 18+ and consenting adults!!!!

a/n: takes place in between the age of ultron/civil war era. pietro and wanda are adults but still young! i haven’t written smut in such a long time so forgive me for the long time it took to get this posted. i get embarrassed when writing shit like this so it takes me twice as long since after every word i have to close my computer and take a lap around my room. hope u enjoy :)

“DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?” FINISHED BANNER as he stood before the team, his face flushed and his eyes wide. Pietro had been half-listening for the first portion of the man’s speech, but at the sound of the words “highly dangerous” and “do not go near it”, his interest had been inevitably piqued.

Pietro fiddled with the string bracelet on his wrist, eyes drifting across the long, meeting table. You were sat next to the head of the table, hair daintily curved along the edges of your face, hands folded on the edge of the table, lips pressed together in thought. He blinked before he could get too lost in you; it had happened before and he didn’t feel like getting caught staring again.

A chorus of yes’s and head nods washed over the team, followed by a short moment of awkward silence as they individually considered the strangeness of the situation that was now in their midst. Pietro sent a tired glance to Wanda, who rolled her eyes and mouthed Pay attention!

“I need you all to seriously recognize the dangers this plant might cause,” Banner went on after the group gave their half-assed acknowledgements of their understanding. “Thor brought this here on accident, and it is only he and other Asgardians that are immune to it. We’re only trying to find a proper, safe way of disposing it, maybe even using a way to harness it’s pollen without... well, killing ourselves.”

“Why can’t Thor just bring it back up to Asgard?” Barton asked, scratching his chin. Shifting in his chair, he said, “I feel like that should be discussed.”

“The issue with that, Barton, is that it’s pollen has already begun to cling onto other things. Our plants, here on Earth, need some kind of vector to move their pollen from place to place, like insects or wind. On Asgard, or at least with this plant, it’s very different,” Banner explained. “The pollen acts almost like a virus, one that clings onto surfaces and grows. We don’t know how to kill this virus, so it’s harder to manage than normal pollen.”

Pietro watched you raise your hand; always so quiet, so polite, you were. It was endearing, he thought, watching you always behave so accordingly. The only time he ever saw you lose yourself was in the heat of a fight, when fists would fly and guns were drawn. It was a treat to see you in such a state, a rarity.

“Y/N? You have a question?”

“The pollen isn’t spreading into the compound, is it?” you asked carefully, something in your voice telling Pietro you were nervous. “Should I be worried?”

“No, we’ve done our very best to contain it,” Banner reassured you; Pietro watched your shoulders deflate. “As long as you all stay away from the lab, you’ll be just fine. And anyone who enters the lab will need to wear facial coverings. I’d even go as far as to say we should invest in more hazmat suits.”

“It’s not that extreme, is it?” Steve Rogers asked in disbelief. “I mean, hazmat suits? C’mon, Banner, what’s the big fuss?”

“The big fuss?” Banner gave a dry scoff. “The big fuss, Cap, is that if you’re exposed to the pollen, it’ll make your mind go into such a sex-driven frenzy that you’ll lose touch with goddamn reality! Do you want that? Because I seriously doubt you want that!”

A wave of silence washed over the room. Steve pressed his lips in a thin line, his nose dusted pink, and said nothing in response, only slowly shaking his head.

“We get it,” Natasha Romanoff spoke up after everyone spent a moment of clearing their throats and adjusting their chairs. “Stay away from big, scary plant.”

Bruce opened his mouth to keep going, but Tony Stark placed a hand on his shoulder.

“They get it,” Stark said. “We’ll change the password to the lab, anyways. J.A.R.V.I.S. will make sure no one goes in.”

All the members fizzled off, going their separate ways. Banner, Stark, and Thor ventured up towards the lab, the latter the only one not donned in a white hazmat suit. Wanda scooted her chair closer to yours, nudging your shoulder.

“Interesting, huh?” she commented. “Wonder what they do with them in Asgard.”

“S’probably like a drug,” Pietro chimed in, dragging his chair towards the two girls’ and sitting backwards on it, legs spread, hands dangling on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs, one folded gingerly over the other, the glossy black toe of your Mary Janes brushing his knee. “No doubt they get a shit ton of that pollen stuff and sell it.”

“I thought Asgardians were immune to it?” you said. Pietro paused.

“Well, maybe if they take a lot of it, it’s like that weird stuff you Americans have. Viagra. Helps it stay up, you know,” Pietro joked, to which Wanda whacked him on the shoulder. “What? Just a hypothesis.”

“Don’t be so crude,” Wanda chastised him. You giggled, the apples of your cheeks rose dusted. Pietro’s lips curled up at your reaction; you glanced over at him, matching his smile, before glancing back down at your lap. “Let’s just stay away from the lab for next few weeks or so. Play it safe.”

“I wanna see it,” Pietro ran a hand through the icy blonde tips of his hair. Your eyes widened a bit. “I’m curious now, y’know? I mean, what’s a sex plant supposed to even look like?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Pietro,” you told him carefully, the sound of his name rolling so easily off your tongue that he almost felt goosebumps trail up his forearms. He smirked, cocking his head to the side.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he finished the quote for you, raising an eyebrow. Your lips twitched, shaking your head a bit and looking away from him. Wanda rolled her eyes, patting you twice on the knee before standing up, strawberry-blonde hair tucked behind her ears.

“I’m going to find Vis,” she announced, the leather of her red jacket swishing against her waist. “I’m tired of this plant talk.”

“Your loss,” Pietro called after her as she walked off. She turned around and stuck her tongue out childishly before lifting a single hand; with a swirl of red light, the door slammed shut behind her. Glancing back at you, Pietro grinned. “You can’t tell me you’re not just the tiniest bit curious.”

“Of course I’m curious,” you told him, leaning forward a bit in excitement as you shifted around; the scoop neck of your black tee sat low on your chest as you moved, and he fought to keep his sights on your eyes. “But, it’s not worth the risk. Not in my opinion, at least.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro shrugged. “Maybe I’ll grab ahold of one of those hazmat suits and head in there myself. Just to take a look.”

You sent him a look and sighed, “Just don’t be stupid.”

Pietro gave a toothy grin. “Oh, Y/N. When have I ever been stupid?”

---

THE NEXT MORNING, PIETRO WAS bewildered to see you absent from the kitchen. Typically, you’d wake up way before he did, and he’d find you sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea or coffee and a book, silently reading. Vision sometimes would join you, or on certain days when Peter Parker would come round, Pietro would find you chatting away with him at the table. This specific morning, however, you were not there. Vision was sitting on his own, a copy of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden in front of him; a cold cup of coffee was sat in front of the empty chair.

“Buna dimineata,” Vision greeted in Sokovian, not looking up from his book. Pietro rubbed the sleep from his pale eyes and glanced at Y/N’s empty chair. “I presume you are curious as to where Y/N is.”

“Where is she?” Pietro asked, retying the white strings of his plaid blue and silver pajama pants. Vision glanced up at the cold cup of coffee, staring at it until it lifted into the air and carried itself towards the sink, dumping itself out and sitting on the chrome interior of the sink.

“I poured that for her, but she had yet to arrive,” Vision explained. Pietro furrowed his brows, crossing his arms over his chest where the white tank top he wore to sleep was wrinkled up. “I sought for Captain Rogers and he revealed to me that she’s been quarantined to her room.”

“Quarantined?” Pietro repeated, the word sounding uncomfortable on his tongue. He cursed under his breath before tentatively asking, “What for?”

Vision closed Walden and set it down on the table, letting out a simple breath and shifting his eyes to meet Pietro’s.

“It seems that the laboratory and Y/N’s room share an air vent,” he said. Pietro said nothing, not following. Vision stood up, tucking the chair back under the table and holding Walden with one hand. “They sealed off that mysterious plant, however they seem to have forgotten the air vent underneath the desk it’s planted on. That air vent just so happened to empty into Y/N’s room.”

“The pollen,” Pietro pinched the bridge of his nose. “O, la naiba...”

“So it’s just wise, according to Banner, that she is confined to her room,” Vision gave Pietro look, bowing his head forward as though he knew something he wasn’t supposed to. “Which means you must leave her alone until she has recovered.”

Pietro let out a sigh before moving his eyes away from version, clenching his jaw and thinking; maybe there was a way he could get into your room without getting infected by the pollen himself, even if it was just to talk with you. The idea of you being all cooped up there by yourself made his heart clench, but he also couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the effects the pollen was having on you. 

“Pietro,” Vision said, and Pietro met his eyes. “Do not try and see her. We don’t know how much pollen is still in that room.”

Pietro rolled his eyes and left the room, not letting Vision interrupt his brainstorming. Banner had been extreme in his warnings about the effects, but how sexually-frustrated could the damn thing make a person? Besides, you were tough. He was sure it wasn’t too bad.

And it wasn’t. But after a week, he started getting anxious. Your room was entirely off limits, the only people going in out being Banner, to asses the situation, and Steve Rogers, to talk to you. You had always been close with Rogers, however, Pietro wished Banner could lend him one of those masks so he could see you. 

One evening, Pietro couldn’t sleep. The more he laid in bed, pale eyes staring blankly at the white ceiling, the more he thought about you, cooped up in your room and probably in an unimaginable amount of pain. It had been a week and change already, and this isolation was sure to be driving you mad. He swung his legs around so he was now sitting on the edge of his bed, and he paused. 

Maybe this is a bad idea, he thought to himself as his legs carried him towards his door, Like, a really bad idea. He hand was still clasping over the doorknob and twisting, despite that little voice in the back of his head asking if this idea of his could potentially end badly.... or, he could end up helping you out. He couldn’t imagine being isolated for so long.

By the time he reached the outside of your bedroom, he paused, his knuckles hovering over the wood, hesitating to knock. He could hear you from outside, moaning and groaning in pain. His heart ached and he knocked.

The moaning stopped and Pietro gulped. “Hey, dragă...”

“Pietro?” you asked from inside. “You shouldn’t...” you paused, and he heard the sound of your bedsheets rustling. “You shouldn’t be near here...”

“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Banner says it might be contagious,” you replied sadly. He could hear you frown. “I don’t want you to catch it.”

“It’s been over a week,” Pietro rolled his eyes. “I doubt it’s still airborne. Most viruses don’t last in the air for that long.”

“I guess,” you fell silent. More rustling. Pietro sighed and put his hand over the door knob. Taking a deep breath, he twisting and opened it.

You were a sight to see, that’s for sure. Half your body was covered by the white comforter, and the parts of you that weren’t were clad in a small tank top and small pajama shorts. The ceiling fan was on top speed, and there were two other fans propped up in the room, each pointing towards the bed. 

Your face was a bright red, same with your chest, and your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail to keep it out of your face. But your eyes, that had previously been half-lidded, widened considerably when you saw Pietro open the door before you threw the entire blanket over yourself.

“You can’t be in here!” you shrilled. “You’ll catch it!”

You felt a hand grasp onto the blanket, slowly pulling it down and off of you. Pietro, his hair tousled by his hand and his lips curved into a gentle smile, let out a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m, like, superhuman. I think I’ll be okay. Let’s go get some water.”

You hesitated, letting him slide the blanket off you. You clenched your jaw, cheeks flushing scarlet as your eyes raked him up and down; he was clad in a thin white tank top that was maybe a size too small, and white-and-blue pajama pants that hung low on his waist. Taking a deep breath, you swung your legs over the bed and got to your feet.

You walked behind him, scared to get too close. Pietro could see your hesitation to the leave the room, as well as your hesitation to touch anything. 

“C’mon, dragă,” Pietro laughed at you. “It’s okay. I feel fine. You’re not going to get me sick.”

“We don’t know that,” you took another heavy breath, keeping your eyes off of him. The flushing of your face made it hard to breathe and the twisting in your lower abdomen was making your head whirl. The muscles of his back flexing every five seconds as he reached up in the cabinets for a cup was not helping. You gulped. “I need to sit down...”

“All right,” Pietro glanced back at you, holding the two cups of ice water. “You okay?”

“None of the medicines work,” you mumbled, hesitantly taking the from him. He sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, staring at you. You felt your neck get hotter and glancing down at your lap. “I just gets worse.”

“What does?” Pietro asked curiously. “What’s the issue? Nauseous? Headache?”

“Erm,” you took a shaky breath and squeezed your legs together. “Hard to explain. The plant, the one from Asgard that did this... it’s... it’s kind of odd...”

Pietro raised a brow. You had a death grip on both your cup and the couch cushion. Face beet red, you took a sip from your trembling hand, avoiding his inquisitive stare.

“How so?” Pietro asked.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled. “Banner said it’s got these, like... coitus pheromones? I don’t really know what that word means, but he refuses to elaborate.”

It was Pietro’s turn to feel his cheeks grow hot. The word was the same in Sokovian, and he knew it was a fancy term for sex, but he was shocked that you didn’t know. You were supposed to be the smart one.

“Y/N... you don’t remember what it means?” he asked carefully. You shook your head.

“Do you?” you asked, finally meeting his eyes for the first time in a few minutes. Pietro bit the inside of his cheek. No wonder you were gripping the couch like a lifeline. This whole time, he had assumed you were moaning and groaning because of pain. His chest felt hot. “What’s it mean?”

“It means sex, Y/N,” he told you slowly. “If Banner says it’s got “coitus pheromones”, that means it’s like... it really is like alien viagra. Like I had joked about before…”

He saw your eyes grow wide, your chest beginning to rise and fall with greater speed. You averted your eyes away from him in almost an instant, pressing your lips together in a thin line and shrinking back as though to pretend he were not there.

“Great,” you mumbled. Pietro shrugged.

“S’not like you didn’t know what it did,” he said honestly. “You’ve been feeling like this for more than a week, you’ve had to have some idea. Probably driving you up a wall, huh?”

You gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah.”

Pietro stared at you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “I could help you. If you wanted me to.”

You gave him a very odd look, brows furrowing just a bit. The air felt warmer, as though someone had turned off the A/C. “What?”

“You heard me,” Pietro muttered, and now it was his turn to shrink back, his back hunching. “Only if you want...”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you mumbled. Pietro pursed his lips. 

“You’re not,” Pietro said simply. “I’m asking you if you want me to help you.”

“I...” you bit the inside of your cheek, and he watched you take a deep, steady breath. “Of course I want you to.”

“Well...” Pietro trailed off, staring at you, awaiting your word. His knees were practically touching yours, the head radiating off of him making you grip the couch tighter.

“Well, what?” you asked. His hand left where it had previously rested on his lap and latched onto your knee, sliding upwards at a snail’s pace.

“Can I?” he asked softly. “Help you?”

You glanced down at where his hand rested on your thigh. Back up at his eyes. Jesus christ.

“Yes.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his lips twitch upwards, a half-smirk half-smile fighting to curl onto his face. You didn’t bother dwelling on it, though, considering you were too focused on the fact that his other hand was on your other thigh, his hands sliding up and down your leg leisurely before coming back down onto your knees.

He pushed your knees apart, his calloused fingers digging into your bare skin, pale blue eyes never leaving yours. You took another shaky breath, swallowing anxiously. He lowered himself off of the coffee table he had been sitting on, kneeling in between your knees. His fingers crawled up to the fabric of your pajama shorts, tugging on the hem.

“Y’know these gotta go, right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Mmhm,” you gulped and did nothing for a second, but as he continued to tug on them, you took the top elastic and pulled it down until it reached his hands. He did the rest of the work, discarding them beside where he knelt.

Your underwear was a light blue, which just so happened to be Pietro’s favorite color (this was a coincidence, you swear). He hummed in approval and spread your knees apart wider. His eyes darted down, spotting the darkened patch of fabric right over her sex. He gave a smirk and snapped his eyes back up to yours again.

Saying nothing, he brought his hand closer to you, running his index finger up and down the darkened fabric. You shuddered. He was barely putting pressure on you, but it seemed the pollen was making even the slightest touch feel a million times more intense than it was.

“These also have to go. As much as I like ‘em,” he said, tugging on the azure fabric of your panties. You felt yourself smile a bit. 

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, but grabbed the hem and pulled down down. Pietro grabbed them off of your ankles, and lifted them up in front of his eyes.

“Can I keep these?” he asked. You kicked him with your foot.

“Creep,” you said. He chuckled and put them on top fo your discarded pajama shorts. “Can you please just...”

“Just do what?”

You huffed and mumbled something unintelligible. He pressed his thumb to your clit rather harshly, moving in small, quick circles.

“What was that?” He asked as you gasped, hands grappling at the edge of the sofa. “What do you want?”

“Everything,” you breathed, your stomach fluttering. Pietro hummed.

“Well, I don’t have time to give you everything, but I can give you a... what do you call it? A taste?"

And then, before she could say anything more, he dove forward and pressed a kiss to your clit, eliciting another gasp from you. He skillfully traced his tongue up and down the length of your slit before returning to your clit, where he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You slithered a hand down to tangle in his hair, grasping at the white-blonde locks.

“Christ, Piet,” you breathed. You felt him smile before he lifted his mouth up for a second, licking his lips. Locking eyes with you, he brought himself back down to trace circles around your entrance with his tongue. Without a second to waste, he brought his hand up and plunged his index finger inside, pulling it out to only shove it back in over and over again.

Your head fell back onto the cushion of the couch, back arching, one hand grappling at the back of its foundations while the other grasped onto Pietro’s hair. Pietro’s eyes flickered back and forth between your half-lidded eyes and the finger that was moving in and out of you, and with a rush of adrenaline, he shoved his middle finger inside, too.

Curling his fingers, he brought his mouth to your clit. “Close, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could find words for, the combination between his fingers and his mouth making your vision go blurry and your mind go blank. “Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, dragă,” he coaxed, his words slightly muffled by his lips being pressed to your clit. “Give it to me.”

Back arching, the coil inside of your lower abdomen finally began to unravel at high speed, body spasming over his long fingers as pretty moans slipped from between your lips. Pietro was grinning as he sucked at your cunt, feeling your velvet walls tighten around his fingers as you orgasmed.

When the noises from you ceased, and your breathing began to slow, he pulled his fingers out and sat upright. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and just as they locked, he put his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. You shivered.

“Feel better?” he asked casually. You paused.

“Yeah,” you said in shock. “I actually do.”

“Told you,” he smirked. You smiled at him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” he replied, getting off his knees and sitting beside you, handing you your underwear and shorts. “Would’ve done it even without the pollen, y’know.”

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow. He gave a firm nod. “I’ll have to take you up on that, then.”

--

translation:

“Buna dimineata.” - Good morning

“O, la naiba.” - Oh, damn it.

“Dragă.” - Darling, Sweetheart, Love

taglist:

@childishnewt @mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777

a/n: this is painfully unedited im sorry. 

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #pietro maximoff #Pietro #pietro marvel #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff smut #pietro maximoff supremacy #pietro maximoff x yn #marvel #mcu #atj #atj x reader #age of ultron #maximoff #sex pollen #smut #god forgive me #marvel cinematic universe

[boxboxlewis]

fake dating, maxiel

Daniel picks Max up at the airport. He seems a little distracted, although he’s friendly enough to the clouds of gnat-people who buzz around asking them for selfies, for autographs. In the car he turns the entertainment system up loud and drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives, staring straight out at the horizon.

Max’s first thought is that Daniel is regretting having invited him to Perth. But then he imagines his therapist raising her eyebrows at him, and ok, yeah: there are other possibilities. Maybe something bad is happening in Daniel’s personal life. Maybe someone in his family is sick.

“How is your sister,” Max asks.

Daniel glances at him, and turns the stereo down. “My—you mean Michelle?"

Max reminds himself to be patient. “Daniel. You do not have any other sisters.” 

It’s hard, trying to read Daniel’s face from the side. His mouth twists and then smooths out again. Max doesn’t know what that means. 

“Michelle is great,” Daniel says finally. 

“Ok,” Max says. “Your parents? They are ok also?”

Daniel frowns, now. “Max, what the fuck. Is this like—a weird pass-agg way of saying I should’ve asked about your family?”

Max gives his imaginary therapist an imaginary middle finger. See, this is where you’ve got me. He says, “You are being weird, and I thought maybe—maybe you didn’t actually want me to be here. Sometimes, people invite you to things but they do not actually want you to say yes, it is just a, a polite thing, and you are supposed to say Oh thanks so much and then not do it.” 

Daniel starts to say something, but Max isn’t finished. He powers on. “But then I thought—my therapist says it is not healthy, to think people are upset at me always if they are upset. Because maybe, it is something else. So I thought, maybe your family. There was something. Maybe one of them was sick. So I asked you.”

Daniel blows out a long breath. The windows are down and the air smells spicy and warm, like recent rain. “All right,” he says, “yeah, it’s—I am being weird, but it’s not—everyone in my family is fine. And I definitely want you to be here.” He shoots a look at Max, like he wants to check if Max believes him. “It’s just—I did something kind of dumb, and I think maybe you’re going to be mad about it. And like, if you are, that’s fair, because, uh. I mean, I can—I’ll get it, if you want to just leave.”

Max says, “If you did it, I am sure it is not that dumb,” and Daniel closes his eyes for a second.

“Ok, well, remember you said that when you’ve heard what I’m about to say, ok? So like. My cousin is getting married, next weekend.”

“Oh, you’re right. That is dumb as fuck,” Max says flatly, and then cracks up when Daniel scowls at him. “What, come on! What is so dumb about your cousin getting married.”

Daniel squeezes his hands on the steering wheel, then relaxes them. Squeezes them, relaxes them. “Yeah, no, that part’s ok. Uh, so I like—I told my cousin I would go.”

“Daniel, that is fine,” Max says. “I can just stay at the farm, I can entertain myself for one day.”

“I-told-her-I’m-bringing-a-date,” Daniel says, words all running together. It takes Max’s mind a second to catch up. “I told her—basically, like, I told her I was in a long-term relationship and I would bring my boyfriend to the wedding. And I, uh, I said you’re the boyfriend. So. My whole family thinks we’re dating and we’re really serious about each other.”

Max contemplates the landscape for a while. The sky is huge and cloudless. It looks like you could float up into it, if you wanted to: bob around on a nice thermal, like some sort of raptor.

“Uh. Max?”

“I am thinking,” Max lies. In fact he’s not having any thoughts at all. He is imagining being a hawk. If he starts thinking about what Daniel said, he’s going to explode into a mass of a thousand squirming questions. Such as, Your family think you’re gay? Are they ok with it? Are they right? Have you dated guys before? What were they like? What were you like, when you were with them? Why did you lie? Why did you pick me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Could you tell that I wanted to kiss you always when I was younger—

“Max, listen, I’m really sorry, I know this is messed up.”

“No,” Max says, “it’s not—I have a lot of questions, that is all, but I am not… upset.”

“Ok, well, that’s good.” Daniel scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. 

“We can go to the wedding,” Max says, deciding it as he says it. “I don’t think it will be such a big deal, to pretend we are together for one day.”

Daniel lets out a wheezing sound like he’s just been punched in the stomach. “Ah—ok. Yeah. Great.”

“Of course we are good friends, so it will not be so different. Except that probably we will have to hold hands,” he adds, half-joking. 

Daniel nods, and then flicks a glance at Max and says, “Handholding, huh? Fuck, if I’d thought that far ahead I would never have suggested this.” Max punches him in the arm. They’re joking, just like normal. It’s all fine. It’s all ok.

Daniel says, “We’ll probably have to like, dance together also. It would be weird if we were at the wedding and didn’t dance.”

Max never dances at weddings. He says, “Ok, we can—I mean, I cannot dance, but I can stick my arms out and sway.” He demonstrates, there in the passenger seat of Daniel’s car, and Daniel looks at him and laughs.

“There’s one other thing,” Daniel says, and Max braces himself: what will it be this time. Max, I told everyone we adopted a child together. Max, this whole thing was a prank for my public Instagram, someone is hiding in the back seat and filming us. Max, I’m just joking, this is all a joke.

What Daniel actually says is “It’s not like, a destination wedding, but it’s a couple of hours away and uh. Because, you know, we’re a couple. Or I mean, we’re not, but like everyone thinks we are, so. We’ll have to like, share a bed or whatever.”

“Oh,” says Max, relaxing abruptly. “Daniel, that will of course be fine. I do not mind touching you.”

Daniel breaks into a coughing fit. When he’s finished he clears his throat and says, “Oh—ok. Yeah, great.”

Max turns the music back up, and looks out at the sky. It will be nice, he thinks: pretending to be Daniel’s, for a day.

#maxiel #FAKE DATING! #featuring max interiority my beloved #my fic #mv33 #dr3

[shieldofiron]

When I first joined this fandom in late 2022, I had some traction with some stories. And some people reached out to see if I wanted to join a discord server that was owned by a person who at the time had over 1000 followers and posted quite frequently. She was popular, though she presented herself as much more popular than she was. Let’s call her Z.

I did not connect with everyone there, in fact I was uncomfortable for reasons I will go into in a moment, but there were some people I really did connect with, and I stayed to be close to them. And then one day, my closest friend there was kicked out of the space with little to no explanation. He begged the mods and Z, formerly his close friends, and was blocked. I combed the server, but I couldn’t find anything that he did that in my opinion was worth kicking him out. Then he began losing followers and receiving many hurtful and upsetting anons on his tumblr. Angry, because I suspected they had something to do with it, I stopped posting in there and later left. I was disgusted that this was going on and they were acting to my face like it wasn’t, and still sucking up to me about my stories. He said he was worried about me believing him, believing that whatever he did, he didn’t understand what it was. But having witnessed Z’s behavior in her server I had no problem believing it was her and her friends.

Z used to find fanfiction or art of ships that she didn’t like, and @ everyone in the server to come look at it, despite knowing it was extremely distressing for some members. If you protested that you had no issue with these ships in fiction but that maybe you didn’t want to see that on a Tuesday at work in the general chat, Z and her closest friends would harass you (me) to say that it was bad, and evil. She often called for people to unfollow these artists, or block users who she had found and showed to us without any participation on our part. Despite this she frequently became interested in dead dove subject matter, but it was always ok when she did it. Boundaries did not exist to her, except for the boundaries of her taste and how she thought the world should be. Z would routinely make jokes about sensitive subjects like trans rights, and let's just say it felt like it wasn’t her place. But don’t worry, Z would say, I have friends who are [joke she had made] [from country she had insulted] so it’s fine. There’s only so many times you can hear a joke like that and not wonder why it’s being made over and over. If you were offended, everything was a joke, or there was something you didn’t understand.

This server was a deeply uncomfortable space. Many times I felt harassed over my politics, over my opinions in fiction, and it was often easier to just swallow this. When I met my friends there, they showed courage standing up for themselves and I am so glad that I found them. With them, my experiences of this fandom lightened enormously. Z and her friends had made me so paralyzed, paranoid and unhappy. I had been afraid to even talk about my race however tangentially. I was afraid to make posts against anti behavior, because they had so twisted the way I thought the Billy fandom would perceive them. Thankfully I do not think that the majority of the fandom agrees with her views.

Z apparently has been presenting harassing my friend as a misunderstanding. Perhaps the misunderstanding is that she thinks any of this is harmless. Misunderstandings can be overcome, discussed, apologized for. If someone is confused, you can explain, you can be civil. There was no discussion.

Z made no effort, except to further talk about him and others behind their backs. She never reached out to clear anything up at any time. Her excuses when she made them were frankly shocking. And she never explained to me why my friend was so dangerous, but hid behind fake apologies and more popular friends, lying to my face like things were all good. My friend made a post when he felt safe with her username and the username of another person who harassed him. My friends that I kept from that server are the bravest people I know who understand that reputation means nothing if you can’t look at your own actions with conviction. And Z went away for a time.

Until I earlier this year, I was invited to a very large Billy server. Immediately I was confused by a user I had seemingly never seen before who had me blocked. It was Z, with a new name. She had me blocked until she saw me interacting positively with a very popular artist. Then I somehow became unblocked. Which was very interesting. I came to find that she was very close friends with them or tried to be. She appeared to be very close with the owner of the server too.

I was obviously wary but who knows. People can change. I really believe that. Unfortunately I do not believe that she has changed yet.

All of her old behavior was back as was my paranoia and fear. And it appeared that, emboldened by her friendship with the owner of the server and others, she felt safe going even further. Here was finally what she had craved, a large platform and popularity to continue her previous behavior. I later came to find out that the owner of the server had her own issues with bullying others, twisting the truth, and other, much more serious things. They showed the same character that Z always did, sweet to my face and sour behind everyone’s back. Yet again people said that they worried they wouldn’t be believed. They were afraid of the fandom famous people who were their friends.

Perhaps it’s just me, but if I had been called out in the past for bullying a trans person online I would distance myself from any appearance of transphobia or bullying or lying. Not Z. She in fact announced that she would bully the mods and “everyone” in the server when people joined. I am not paraphrasing, she said he was a bully so often that it was almost comical. She openly said she was an anti when someone confronted her over AGAIN trying to publicly shame authors and create mass unfollowing campaigns. There were no or minimal consequences for this. She would casually bring up the same old jokes and dogwhistles that she used to, uglier with time, and to me pathetically stripped of anything that could have excuse them.

Nobody told me these things. I saw it with my own eyes. But still, somehow, she was the hero, the popular beloved person in every story. I was afraid because she had very powerful friends. Or at least she pretended she did. Because she was friends with a server owner who hurt people I cared about. I am still afraid now. But I’d rather do it afraid for my friends than watch this happen.

I would give up every stupid note on every stupid meme if it meant trans people, and all vulnerable people, felt safe in fandom spaces. I am tired of dishonest communication and trying to play some stupid game I never fucking cared about. If some popular person wants to crush me like a grape for believing my friends, they can go ahead and do it already.

Everybody wants to be liked, everybody wants to be believed. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked. But I’m done waiting for people to believe me or like me. I’m done waiting for people to wake up and take a look in the mirror. To explain and to deign themselves to listen. I believe in my friends. I believe my eyes, and I believe in my own convictions. That’s enough for me.

I believe people can change. I hope they do. But I hope they do away from vulnerable people who they can hurt carelessly.

I’m not blocking you. Clean up your own mess.

#fandom wank #but is it tho #harringrove #fandom discourse #applewillowstone #flashwaves #harringrovepolls

[hyperfixationstati0n]

I JUST SAW YOUR POST OML I NEED TO REQUEST FOR BILLY THE KID:

SO like a coryo x lucy gray inspired pic where the reader is a singer and gets billy's attention as he only comes to the bars to see her performances. they like each other, start seeing each other, making out in the back or something idk you're so talented i'm sure you'll write something amazing

anon. i love you. so much. hand in marriage. rn. (i hope this does your idea justice pooks)

Word count: 936

…………………………………..………………………………………

It started when Billy wandered his way into your town. At this point, most people had an idea of who he was. The infamous outlaw rode in, looking for a place to stay and somewhere to get a drink. luckily for him, he only had to make one stop to find both. After paying for his room, he wanders down to the bar. He orders a whisky, shooting it back before ordering another. But right when he brings the glass to his lips, someone-you-catch his attention.

You’re at your space, the small little stage this saloon had configured for you, with your guitar. This was your place. Hell, you’d been performing there since forever. You’d become a local celebrity at this point. You’re smiling and playing, most people there being regulars and knowing you. You smiled as they all cheered when you came out, someone going as far as to hand you a bottle of liquor. You laugh and take a long swig before passing it back to the man who’s given it to you.

“oh it’s to clear my pipes, y’all, to clear my pipes. Now who’s ready to have a good time?”

He leans forward and puts his glass back down on the counter, the liquid left untouched. His eyes glow in the dim candle light. There’s only one word to describe him-entranced.

And when you catch sight of him in the middle of a song, it’s all you can feel too.

You’re popular though, everyone wanted to talk to you. You got swarmed with compliments and tips and free drink offers before you can even make it off stage. And by the time you do, he’s gone.

That’s not the last time you see him though. Every single night for the next week you see him in the same spot, untouched glass next to him. Probably just an excuse to be there. Now, you figured out who he was through the gossip of the town. But…you didn’t know an outlaw could be so attractive. Or so shy, it seems. Even on quieter nights he never came up to talk to you. You got sick of it by day 6. You wanted to know what this infamous “Billy the Kid”’s deal was. After your show, you rush out the back door before anyone can catch you (under the ruse that you were putting your guitar away). You’d seen him wander around back there a few times, and this was your plan of catching him. Figuring out why he came here every night to ogle you but never even introduce himself.

And it seems you caught him at the right time, because in your rush to get out the door you run head first into him. You feel a pair of strong arms catching you by the waist to put you back on your feet.

“Woah there, honey. You alright?” His voice was low and gravelly, but in the way that pulled you in more. Your eyes flash up to him. He was even prettier up close than he was from your view on stage. It takes you a moment to stop staring and speak, although it was hard to do so until he retreated his hands from your waist.

“I’m-I’m fine. Sorry i ran into you.” You say with a breathless smile. But you can tell he’s about to walk off politely so you speak before he can. “I notice you here every night. You…always leave before i get around to you.”

He stops and you swear you can see a blush cross his cheeks, although it was pretty dark out at that point so there was no way to be sure.

“You’ve got a lot of fans, it seems. I don’t want to waste your time.”

You tilt your head, smiling but also uttering confused.

“I think I can decide for myself how to waste my time.”

This earns a smile from him. That you can tell even in the dark, because you can hear it in his voice.

“Well ok then,” He starts, hesitating. Like he’s thinking over the next thing he has to say, even though it’s only two words. “I’m Billy.”

“Yeah, I know” You say with a smooth chuckle. “I’m Y/N.”

You got lost in the blue of his eyes that night.

…………………………………..………………………………………

So, you were glad he stuck around for awhile. He came to every one of your shows, and now he actually didn’t avoid you when they were over.

When you’re done socializing you meet him in your usual spot out back. He scoops you up in a hug, kissing your cheek sloppily before putting you back down and leaning you against the wall. He keeps his hand behind your head, not wanting your hair to get messed up on the wood.

“Hi, Billy” You say sweetly, eyes wide and full of adoration. He uses the hand holding your head to tilt it up to his.

“Hi, songbird” He replies, using the nickname he coined for you. It always made you blush. “Great show tonight. As always.”

You blush even more and lean forward, nudging your nose with his.

“Needy” He teases, kissing the tip of your nose instead of where you clearly wanted him.

“Shut up.”

You pull him in by the collar of his shirt. He chuckles against your lips before reciprocating, cradling your body in his arms to keep you close. You’d learned that he wasn’t all people made him out to be. He was sweet. Gentle. And, he was yours. He’d made that much clear.

Billy pulls away and presses a kiss to your forehead before looking into your eyes once more.

You’d be getting lost in the blue of his eyes for a long time.

#billy the kid #billy the kid tom blyth #billy bonney x reader #willam h bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #tom blyth billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid mgm #billy the kid fanfiction

[malarkgirlypop]

What the Easy men are ticketed for when driving

Richard Winters:

He has all of his paperwork at the ready the police officer doesn’t even have to ask. He’s very apologetic, but he didn’t do anything wrong. Dick politely chats with the officer, he’s not intimidated by the man but he’s being cautious. When the officer says he made a mistake and lets him go, Dick is very understanding. They even exchange information, talk about meeting up. You feel like a third wheel for a hot sec. He has never had a ticket.

Lewis Nixon:

IM NOT DRUNK!!!! I CAN DANCE, I’LL PROVE IT!!! 'Darling stay in the car', proceeds to fall out of the car while trying to exit. The cop and you exchange a glance. You follow the cop car to the station, you can see Nixon’s little head in the back window. He was indeed drunk. Yeah you should've seen it coming he had to blow into a breathalyser before starting the car, turns out that's why you were there.

Harry Welsh:

Nervous around the cop, tries to make small talk but the guy isn’t having it. You sit there in awkward silence as the cops leaves to fill out the paperwork. Harry got pulled over cause he was trying to show you a trick, but the trick was swerving back and forward across the lanes and wasn’t very impressive. Sheepishly takes the fine, with a mumbled apology.

Ronald Speirs:

Asserts dominance over the cop, uses his killer stare. The cop is jumpy under his cold glare. He’s not smug about it, stating facts about the law making the cop look dumb. The officer can tell he’s fighting a losing battle so tries to rescind the fine. Ron is very happy about this reaching out if the window to give the cop a pat on his arm. "It’s ok, people make mistakes". Leaves the police man in the dust before the interaction is truly over. He was speeding, but it was fine, he had somewhere important to be.

Carwood Lipton:

I feel like he would be the same as Winters. Very calm and collected, hearing out the officer. Obviously it's our baby boy and he hasn't done anything wrong. Even if the cop was a total dick, Lip would be so polite and understanding. I think it would piss off the cop that he wasn't talking back, giving a "Have a good night officer", as the cop marches away muttering under his breath. I'm sure he would turn to you saying, "shall we?" before pulling away from the curb. He did nothing wrong, Lip getting fined. Ha! You wish.

George Luz:

Thinks he is a stand up comedian and can get out of the ticket by telling jokes. Unfortunately for Luz he gets the most grumpy, stoic officer of all time. George crashes and burns with each quip and pun, you sink lower in your seat hoping the ground will swallow you whole, (we all know second hand embarrassment is the silent killer). Finally he receives the ticket and you sit in silence while he re-thinks his entire life. Before making the most ridiculous remark sending everyone into hysterics. He is very proud of himself, "I knew I still got it. He was just a bad crowd." Very pleased with himself he doesn't even care he got a ticket. What was the ticket you ask. Trying to stand and drive. Yeah this isn't his first time either, yikes George.

Joe Toye:

Yeah no this man never gets pulled over. Even if he does, he will evade the police. His brag is that he has never been ticketed. Well, they have never been able to catch him to give it to him. He will never tell you what he does to be chased by the police, the mystery of it all. Bill says its cause he's a shit driver.

Bill Guarnere:

Knows everyone, so when he is pulled over all you get is, "Wild Bill you mad dog, I haven't seen you in years!" Buddies with the whole police force, gets let off the hook way too often. Has broken all the laws, but hey when you know everyone, what really are laws?

Joe Liebgott:

You all might think he's a bad boy rebel with the most tickets out of the lot. But you forget, hes a tried and true cabby. Like Bill he knows everyone, all you have to do is utter his name and you can get a million stories about the man. His brag is that he has never been ticketed, sure he's broken the law, but he never gets caught. Unlike some people *cough cough* Toye. But hey Toye hasn't actually been caught, just been in multiple car chases.

David Webster:

He's offended you think he drives. Clearly passenger seat princess, put some respect on his name. Has been fined for not wearing a seatbelt and standing up through the sun roof singing Unwritten, but that's just a vibe and he has the ticket framed on his wall.

Buck Compton:

The self proclaimed 'best driver of the group'. He's daddy and drives around his baby boy's. He's like the dad that picks you up from Saturday sport, 'who wants to stop at McDonalds?' His car is the vibe, everyone always fights over who rides with him on road trips. Has the best songs and snacks for the road trips, he laughs in the face of tickets, this man is untouchable and has a squeaky clean record. May have tried to do a donut, but he'll never tell.

Eugene Roe:

Pfft, this man getting pulled over. You're dreaming. The most calm driver. He's like my nana, anyone heard of the story the tortoise and the hare, yeah well he's the tortoise. No one wants to drive with him if they need to be somewhere in a hurry, he's too nice and gives way to everyone. This man panics when the police pass him, even when he's doing nothing wrong.

Babe Heffron:

If Gene is the tortoise, then Babe is definitely the hare. Hold on for dear life if you ride with this man. The most chaotic driving of all time. Over taking, under taking, side by side taking? Yeah he does it all. You see orange light, he sees pedal to the metal. Speed limits are just suggestions to this man. The amount of fines and tickets this man gets in a year he could buy a whole other car.

Donald Malarkey:

He's a good driver, but boy oh boy he's easily distracted. If you're sitting in the back showing photos to the rest of the boys, he's turning around fully in the seat to see what's going on. The most common phrase in his car is, "Don watch the road!" He's a fun driver having the best songs and also has karaoke mics in the car that he hands back, but please encourage him to keep both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road. The ads the are on the side of the road are catered just for him, he can't help himself when he sees something flashy. Has rear ended a car or two, maybe one of them was a police officer, but no one was there to see it.

Skip and Penk:

They don't drive. Skip is clearly a passenger princess and Alex is a backseat babe! Just tell them to please keep all limbs inside the car. Should not be allowed in Malarks car as they are the reason for his distraction but the love it, you will have to pry them out of the car they aren't splitting up!!

#woop woop #it's the sound of the police #wee woo #stop that vehicle #all units commence car chase #band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #joe toye #dick winters #easy company #bill guarnere #babe hefferon #eugene roe #carwood lipton #ron speirs #lewis nixon #harry welsh #skip and penk #buck compton #david webster #joe liebgott #who are you riding with?

[eddiemadmunson]

Uncle Aegon

Ok, I wrote this when I was bored at work... It’s basically porn without plot. And this is obviously targcest, so if you don’t like this kind of stuff don’t read it... 

Paring: Aegon x niece!reader Word count: 2, 100 Warnings: dirty talk, incest (uncle/niece), adultery, voyeurism, fingering A/N: English is not my first language

You were Y/N Velaryon, the oldest child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, they were your official parents, but everyone in the Red Keep knew that you were Daemon’s daughter. And maybe your parentage was one of the reasons why your traitorous heart fell in love with Aegon. Just like your mother you fell for your older uncle. But Aegon wasn’t Daemon. He didn’t care about you, he barely noticed your presence at the castle. But you always followed his every move with your violet eyes. You had spent most of your days daydreaming about your future, hoping that your mother would betrothed you to him. It broke your heart when they forced him to marry Helaena. You knew that he wasn’t happy about it, you wanted to comfort him but you didn’t find the courage to do that. He gave Helaena three children but you knew that they were not sleeping together. He spent too many nights in the brothels in Flea Bottom and you would never admit to anyone that you were jealous about all the whores in those establishments.

Your love and lust for him didn’t fade away with time, it was getting worse. You were making excuses to be somehow in his presence, you were sad when he left the castle for few days. Like today. Alicent and Viserys sent Aegon to Dorne to achieve some political goal there and you knew that he won’t be home for a few days. He and Sunfyre left 3 days ago, you watched them fly towards the cloudless sky, his platinum hair shining brightly in the morning sun, his golden dragon looked like a moving gem. You missed his presence so much that you did something very risky and sneaked into his chambers. You knew that he forbid the maids to clean his rooms while he was gone - gods know what he is hiding there - they whispered. So when you slipped inside, you found it very messy, like everything related to Aegon. You took a deep breath and smelled the familiar scent of your uncle. His expensive perfume mixed with wine, dragon fire and fine linens. You sighed happily and you could swear that you just wanted to stay at the door and be somehow closer to him, but his giant messed up bed was calling to you. You slowly walked there and noticed the sheets were   discarded around, his pillows all wrinkly and little bit dirty.

You sat gently on the edge, trying to not move anything, but it was so messy that you doubted that Aegon would notice that you were here.

You hesitantly lied down on his bed and closed your eyes. Aegon's scent enveloped you and you hummed happily. You imagined that he is there with you, holding you gently in his arms, your back against his naked chest. You knew that having these kinds of thoughts about your uncle wasn't right, but you couldn't help yourself. You desired his touch and attention.

You kept your eyes closed and imagined his hands caressing your arm slowly, touching your skin lovingly, starting at your wrist, running his fingers over your shoulder and gently angling your head so he can kiss you. The kiss would be slow and full of passion. You whimpered softly at the idea. You looked around yourself making sure that you were alone. You took one of his pillows and buried your face into it, smelling more of his intoxicating scent. You groaned and felt yourself getting wetter and wetter with every passing second. Your hand sneaked between your legs, rubbing your pussy lightly and moaning at the contact. You were so turned on just by the lingering scent of him, you couldn't imagine what would happen if he was here with you. You would probably explode. Your imagination ran wild and you got a very naughty idea. Sometimes you used your own pillows to give you pleasure. So this time you could use Aegon's pillow to do that. It would be almost as if Aegon touched your pussy himself. No one would know about this, you were here alone and the pillows will dry quickly. You bit your lip nervously, hesitating for a while, but then your horny young brain decided that it's OK. You took off your panties and folded Aegon's pillow into a suitable shape and placed it under you. You sat on it, imagining that it's Aegon's lap. You slowly started rocking your exposed pussy against the soft material of his pillow. You frowned in frustration because it didn’t feel good so you reshaped the pillow again. This time it rubbed against your pussy perfectly and you purred happily. You starred rubbing your dripping cunt against the pillow, your eyes closed again as you imagined riding Aegon's cock like this in his private chambers. You untied the laces of your dress, your breasts spilling out, your own fingers started playing with your hard nipples, imagining that it's Aegon's much bigger palms. You rocked harder against the pillow, your imagination running wild. Aegon was now fucking into you from below while he sucked on your breasts.  "Aegon," you moaned out his name quietly. Almost hearing his deep voice in your head calling you his good little girl, you saw his thumb toying with your clit, teasing you. "Aegon, please," you moaned louder this time, totally lost in your fantasy.

When Aegon arrived back to King's Landing a week earlier than he planned he expected a lot of things. He expected his mother and father yelling at him for fucking that Dornish Princess and getting banished from the Sunspear, he expected Aemond to look disappointed, he expected Rhaenyra to look satisfied with his another failure, he expected Helaena to ignore his presence as usually. But he would never expect to find his little niece in his chambers, with her hands on her perfect tits and her pussy rocking against his own pillow. 

At first he thought that this is some sick prank his stupid nephews are playing on him. Forcing you to ruin his pillow like this for him to sleep on the remnants of your arousal when he arrives back home. He quietly sat on the chair close to his bed and watched you, arguing with himself, if she should startle you or keep watching you, because that view was very arousing. You were beautiful, true Targaryen Princess, he always wanted you, but Daemon and Rhaenyra would have his head if he tried something on you. He was still confused about the whole situation when he heard it. You moaned his name quietly. Was he imagining things?? Did you just moan his name?? "Aegon please," you moaned again louder this time, your needy voice made him hard in his breeches. He smirked and licked his lips. He shifted on the chair and you opened your eyes.

First you just smelled it - the unmistakable stench of a dragon. You thought that it's just a part of your fantasy, but it was followed by a feeling of somebody's presence. You quickly opened your eyes and the last thing you expected to see was a pair of violet eyes staring back at you. Aegon sat on the chair close to his bed, looking at you with cocky smirk on his pretty face.  "Don't stop because of me," he grinned and you panicked. "What are you doing here?" you cried out. "You are in my room, kitten," he chuckled. "Who told you to stop rubbing that wet cunt against my pillow," he looked at you with look full of lust and wickedness. "Aegon, I am sorry, I shouldn't do this. Please forgive me, I will leave and..." you babbled. "Didn't you hear me? DON'T. STOP!" his commanding voice sent a zap of pleasure through your body. You rocked your body against the pillow again the intensity of the pleasure much higher now. "Aegon," you moaned desperately. "Fuck!!" He cursed and his cock was straining against his breeches. “Do you do this often, dear niece? Rubbing your soaked cunt against something, thinking about me?” he asked you and you nodded. “I asked you a question, answer me,” he demanded your words not just your nods. “Yes Aegon, I do this every day,” you admitted and whimpered in frustration. You were so ashamed that he found you like this in his room but at the same time you wanted to cum with him so close to you. But suddenly the pillow wasn’t enough, you were sure that your own fingers won’t be enough, when he was so close to you.  “Naughty girl, thinking about your uncle while you play with your tight virgin pussy,” he gave you a wolfish smile when you blushed. “What is it, kitten?” he asked you with faked concern. “You can’t cum, do you?” he could see right through you. You were rubbing your soaked pussy against his pillow, your delicate fingers were pinching your nipples but you were frowning in frustration. “Nooo,” you whined desperately. “Do you want your good uncle Aegon to help you?” he grinned wolfishly and you felt a new wave of arousal. “Only if you want to,” you said shyly and his violet eyes turned dark. He lazily walked to your bouncing body, the tips of his fingers grazing over your shoulders and you shivered, your nipples tightened almost painfully.  “Tell uncle Aegon where you need him, my sweet niece,” he teased you. He dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. You whimpered at the simple touch and he smirked. “So responsive, little kitten,” he grinned before he captured your lips with his. There was nothing sweet about the kiss, it was possessive, passionate kiss that made you stop the movements of your hips.  “I didn’t tell you to stop moving your needy pussy over my pillow, Y/N,” he scolded you and you started rubbing your cunt over his pillow again. “Good girl,” he purred into your ear and you moaned, obviously happy with his praise. “You have such a gorgeous pair of tits, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear, replacing your small hands with his bigger, rougher ones. “Aegon, fuck, this feels so good,” you whimpered. He cupped your breasts, his fingers pinched your nipples and you tossed your head back against his shoulder letting out a strangled moan. “Do you like feeling my hands on your body, kitten?” he chuckled and suckled the skin between your shoulder and neck. “Yes, more, please,” you whimpered, desperate to cum, your body melting under his touch and gaze. “Do you think you deserve that?” he teased you. “Yes, Aegon, please,” you begged him with tears in your eyes. “Say please, uncle, please make me cum,” he grinned wickedly.  “Please, uncle, please make me cum, please I need it, I will do anything!” you babbled, frustrated tears already running down your face and he loved to see you like this. The only daughter of his “perfect sister” begging him to touch her. He kept teasing your nipples and you reached behind you and your hand found his crotch, rubbing his cock desperately.  “Please,” you whined and he cursed. You were surprised to find him rock hard. He was obviously as aroused as you were. “You little cock slut. Who told you that you can touch me,” he pinched your nipple painfully hard and you moaned harder than before. “Interesting, you like it rough, my dear niece. Good to know,” he smirked and his hand finally moved to your clit. He softly rubbed it and you cried out happily. “Yes, yes, yes,” you kept moaning as he started rubbing your clit in circles. You were so close and he knew it. “Hold it for me, little one, don’t cum yet” he whispered into your ear and you whined desperately.  “Aegon, please, don’t be cruel. I need it, I need you, please,” you begged again. “Oh, Y/N. Who am I to deny you anything,” he sighed and his fingers slipped into your wet pussy. He groaned at how wet and tight you were around his fingers. You moaned loudly, his fingers were much bigger and longer than yours, he was stretching your pussy almost painfully but you loved it. His thumb rubbed your clit firmly and he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me, my niece. Soak your uncle’s fingers!” he ordered and you obeyed, you moaned his name loudly as you cum around his fingers. He silenced your moans with bruising kiss as his fingers slowly thrust in and out your pulsing pussy.  “What a good girl Y/N. You did great, little one,” he praised you and at that moment you would do absolutely anything for him and he knew it. Aegon saw the look in your eyes and he knew that you were in his grasp and he didn’t want to let you go before he will be finished with you.

#aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen fanfiction

[knightsickness]

hiii can you elaborate on the "harwin getting fucked over again and again" thing is it just the whole "everyone knows but won't acknowledge the kids being his and he has to stay and deal with that judgement while not being allowed to parent them ever" thing or is there more?

harwin i think is interesting bc he’s so obviously part of a conversation abt targ exceptionalism both in how his sons are ostracised bc of his features but also, far less addressed, how he is ultimately disposable, but bc he’s so apparently satisfied with his objectively shitty situation it never NEEDS to be addressed. he’s this deeply strange character of either inscrutable and extremely shallow motivations bc what happens to him is fucked up but if he’s doing it for anything other than enthusiastic uncoerced love of the game or at any point complains about his situation rhaenyra is doing something greyer than the show will let her be OR harwin is another bitter lowly asshole trying to dim her sparkle

interesting to compare to criston bc his arrangement w rhaenyra is exactly what she proposed to criston and he rejected + while criston is obviously a singularly awful guy for many other reasons i DON’T think he was in the wrong on that one i think not wanting to spend his life in constant mortal danger with no oaths and no honour and no reward but getting to be with rhaenyra was not unreasonable + rhaenyra not recognising that does say something interesting abt her and how she views people specifically non targs around her. it’s often flattened into a ‘he could have been the most powerful guy in westeros and fumbled’ or worse unironic ‘he should have known his place and just been her whore’ when if we’re being honest judging from the everybody else who thought they could escape the targaryen grinding wheel by going along with it (including harwin) he would have been dead in three years tops

and she can just do that w harwin not bc criston is weird (not in that way at least) but bc harwin is weird. his motivations can really only be that he genuinely singlemindedly loves rhaenyra to the point he’s fine with apparently not marrying or having legitimate kids to stay close to her and the boys and ruining his reputation for an adulterer and how his dad (even though he’s the strong knight eldest son who should make him proud) is now always angry and disappointed and yes how he’s at a middle distance from his kids and the moment that slips he goes home in disgrace and is immediately murdered in part bc of the political ramifications of his and rhaenyra’s relationship. nothing about the relationship gains him anything politically it actively ruins his life how could he do all this knowingly hang his reputation and potentially himself if he didn’t love her more than ANYTHING and he was neverr rhaenyra’s number one. and he knew this and was ok with it she’s uncomplicatedly fond of him she obviously likes him a lot but he dies and she’s sad and she doesn’t go to the funeral bc the optics are bad and she quickly marries daemon who she’s always loved. how thankless !

harwin’s relationship w her is convenient and not really dissected bc he’s acting in rhaenyra’s best interests. and we like rhaenyra !! the show is written to make rhaenyra likeable and it is well written they do a good job at that. that he IS cool with it is more important than WHY he’s cool with it. harwin is a contrast to criston bc unlike criston he doesn’t have aspirations above his station and will not try to argue with any of rhaenyra’s entrenched beliefs about targaryen relationships being inherently more meaningful and then turn around and kick a puppy to death to show he’s evil and you don’t need to take anything he’s said seriously. but like Why Is He Doing This

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd #house of the dragon #harwin strong

[crazytea5]

Yandere Tanjiro Inosuke and zenizu.

so I’m doing this because of the “What do you want me to post?” Post so I’m doing it like I said I would. Now let’s do it! Pls note that y/n uses she/they pronouns.

1 Yandere Tanjiro.

Now you met Tanjiro selling some pastries in your family’s bakery.

he noticed you and instantly became obsessed with you.

he started to stalk you until one day gaining the confidence to come and say hi. Little did you know that he had been stalking you.

he decided to buy some kelp rice balls.

He asked if you would like to see him later on but you declined due to your mother being extremely afraid of oni (demons) and apologised for not being able to but he said that it was fine.

he started to come EVERY SINGLE DAY but you didn’t mind because you believed him to be your best mate. He knows what you thought of him and believes you still think that.

You didn’t just work 3 hours a day at the bakery you also did wood chopping for 5 hours a day and then would give it to you Father to sell.

after work you would meet up with Tanjiro but that stopped when his family died.

Fun Fact: You were at the kamado household when it got attacked and you suffered serious injuries trying to protect them you also managed to save not just nezuko but also Tanjiro.

Tanjiro came straight home and didn’t stay at another house.

giyyu saved you and brought you all to the demon slayer HQ were you and Tanjiro trained under him as his successors.

Tanjiro kidnapped you on a rainy night in a alley.

He is EXTREMELY obsessive and delusional.

2 Inosuke

You and Inosuke met in the final selection.

in final selection you had seen Inosuke coughing up blood and being extremely injured so you helped him.

he felt different. He had never felt love before but after experiencing it he was safe to say it was a very real thing and not just for fairytales.

one day you and him have the same mission. You too have missions together a LOT. Due to Inosuke asking and due to him threatening to kill your Crow. Due to polite requests.

he kidnapped you when you to finished a mission. He then told everyone that you had died during said mission and said that the demon kidnapped you tortured you and ate you alive.

YOU HATE HIM! You love him he’s so kind! No we hate him… stop lying.

He keeps you in a box like Tanjiro’s when you have to leave tho thats pretty rare.

you live in a cave with him and if you do something wrong expect to almost be beaten to death.

He is extremely delusional and scary.

Zenitzu

Now Zenitzu only met you due to you being a local farmer. Only due to Tanjiro being busy as he would normally be the one to do food shopping when he seen you it was love at first sight. Totally not a obsession.

He was just crying and you had come to help him so he started to believe that you Loved him too.

So after asking Tanjiro Zenitzu was allowed to come with him to the farm to buy food.

Zenitzu after knowing you for a year kidnapped you while you were asleep and defenceless.

he is extremely delusional

You extremely hate him and try to do murder attempts to kill him but you always fail and he always says that it’s just a stage that people go through when their taken to a surprise home and that love will always fix it.

Ok I’m finally done because I am posting this at 06:51 in the morning and I have had 0 sleep so bye!

#yandere demon slayer #yandere tanjiro x reader #yandere zenitsu #x reader #yandere x reader #im so tired #yandere inosuke #CrazyTea5 #let me sleeeeeeeep

[bsd-brainrot-go-brr]

Dating a criminal is... kinda hard, actually

In summary: Fyodor x gn reader who is mildly unimpressed with the fact that he is never around but stays with him anyway because who wouldn't?

Fyodor Dostoyevsky was a feared man.

For good reason.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky could also be a cruel man.

Not that he ever had been to you(well he was occasionally, but those times always had safe words involved so you can’t really count that), but you’d be a fool to ignore who he was, what he was, to everyone else.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky was a man who always took and never gave, always reaped but never sowed, a demon, the devil incarnate blah blah blah. Back then, when you’d first met him, it had taken precisely 24 days until the rumours and comments got.... boring. Back then, when you’d first met him, which was several years ago.

Time sure flies when you’re dating a global-scale terrorist, huh?

Fyodor Dostoyevsky was, on top of that, currently absent. Which is not a good thing considering it was the day of your anniversary.

You knew you couldn’t expect much. This was either to keep you safe, or to keep him safe. There was no other reason why he’d ever keep radio silence like this. It was still mildly disappointing. Your relationship had never exactly been... conventional but still. Some flowers would be nice, Fedya. Some chocolate, maybe. With that endgame villain paycheck, he could probably afford a nice bottle of wine or a fancy scented candle(your recent trip into the city had shown you that indeed wine and candles had a horrifying price overlap). Yet here you were, sitting on your couch in a small apartment in the poorer parts of St. Petersburg with a cup of tea and a takeout delivery 15 minutes from your door step. The apartment felt cold, shabby and abandoned, despite the fact that you lived here at least most of the time. Sometimes he’d take you with him if he had to leave for longer, but not this time. This time was too dangerous, too much in person involvement, too much fieldwork. You didn’t ask further. Knew better than that. Whatever he was up to in Japan, you were probably better off not knowing. For one because you could in fact not remote control when your moral values kicked in, but also because without a doubt it’d cause a major headache to attempt to remember all the details of those ridiculously well-planned schemes of his.

No. You wouldn’t ask. You wouldn’t join. You’d sit here, in your lifeless little apartment like a soldier’s wife waiting for her husband to return from war. Except he was the war. He was the chaos, the destruction, he was the reason why he wasn’t here.

You should have felt resentful because of that but truthfully you didn’t. If a situation like this had occurred within the first couple of months of your relationship, it would surely have broken it apart. But it had been what? Five years? Longer? You took a sip of your tea, which was cooling down far too quickly, while trying to remember precisely how many years ago it was that he politely informed you that he was yours, would be yours, until the end of time. All those years ago, and he'd kept the promise to this day.

At this point, the only reason you weren’t married yet might have honestly been... nothing. There was no reason, now that you thought about it.

Might wanna bring that up with dear Mister Dostoyevsky next time he felt like visiting. Whenever that might be.Then you’d at least have a fancy ring to keep you company.

But then again marrying him might automatically put you on a couple of government watch lists if you weren’t already. That was fine.

For those eyes looking at you as if you were the only drop of colour in a desolate grey world, for the defeated sighs before successfully dragging him off to participate in any self care activity, for the near endlessly long letters expressing the things he just did not manage to say out loud, for that it was fine. It was okay.

No good friend would have ever advised you to stay with this man, that was ok too. Because he adored you. Because he was yours. No one else knew that. No one else ever would. These were your memories to keep, to treasure, to recall on nights like these when everything was cold and lonely because he wasn't there, and he wouldn't be for a while. Of course memories were not enough to keep you warm on chilly nights like these were the other, empty side of the bed felt like a punishment from the gods above, faulting you for a crime you did not commit. But memories could make the feeling of emptiness, abandonment and betrayal, that were gradually seeping into your bones, a little more bearable.

It took a lot of endurance to stay, made significantly easier by the lack of desire to leave.

The door bell rang, so you groggily got up to accept your box of lukewarm Chinese noodles. You had sat on your couch with your tea, alone. You sat at the table, which had only two chairs because no one else ever came here except you and him, alone. Evening shower? Alone. Nighttime routine? Alone.

And by the time you crawled under the covers of your ridiculously cold and empty bed, the only companion you had was the impending mental breakdown, because there is only so much loneliness a heart can take. But this was okay. It happened sometimes. That’s just how it was. This was a bad day, tomorrow would be better and once he’d return, today would be forgotten, overshadowed by the joy of reunion and the intensity with which that man could love. Adore. Worship. That knowledge, that experience, those memories, were yours. He was yours. Just...

...just not right now.

The next morning you woke up with a dehydration-induced headache and tear-stained, puffy cheeks. When you went to get the mail, you found a thick, high-quality envelope amongst the usual letters. Address handwritten in a way you recognized immediately. 

Instantly, some of the bitterness that had accumulated the previous evening seemed to vanish. Hm, who could a mysterious envelope one day after your anniversary possibly come from?

It was rare for him to use the conventional, publicly accessible ways of contact, (yes, you had shady looking people at your doorstep before who addressed you as if you were the second coming of Jesus Christ himself just to hand you a letter or convey a message in person,) but who knew what was different this time.

It was a little pathetic, how quickly you ran up the stairs back to your apartment, closed the door and leaned against it, ripped the edge of the envelope with a key.

“To whom my heart belongs,”

Oh fuck you, Fedya.

Come back soon. 

-----------

(narration voice:) what the poor fool did not know, because they do not possess meta knowledge and therefore are not up to date with the manga, was that he would in fact not return anytime soon

#bsd x reader #bsd x gn reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor x reader

[simcardiac-arrested]

Rikki cutscene?

phhhhhh my godd covering my mouth and giggling and kicking my legs and rolling around in bed and. rikki . she is everything to me. she’s like if a girl was sooo fail and had everything wrong ever. imagine masking your entire life and pretending that everything is okay. pretending you enjoy the golden child #lifestyle and that you’re actually really respectful and polite and considerate. But actually u are so full of anger. so full of rage and violence. but it’s ok really <3 you’ve been suppressing your emotions for decades and shelving away every problem ever but it’s fineeeeeee believe me it’s fine. it’s all good. yiu’re not even mad. it’s not avoidant and conflict averse behavior it’s just literally fine. also it’s less hassle if there’s no problems and everything’s gucci and no one’s mad (you are mad though. but like dont worry about it). it’s much less hassle to pretend like nothing has ever bothered you at all and to just nod along. you just don’t want trouble. you don’t want to get into trouble. you’re not honest, you might even push someone else under the bus if it helps you stay afloat. you’re only caring and considerate when it benefits you, you don’t actually know any of these people, you don’t actually respect any of them. it’s just easier to pretend like you do. and all you ever wanted was an escape, and you got it, and was it worth it? of course it was, you were doing the right thing, you were following your dreams and saving both him and you. he just didn’t understand—he’s your little brother, of course he didn’t understand. he never even cared, did he? or, wait, you shouldnt badmouth the dead—except of course he’s not dead, everything is fine, he’s just been missing for what, 7 years? but it’s fine. if you acknowledge something bad might have happened to him all those two decades of repressed feelings might just drown you for good. he’s fine. and then it turns out he really is fine. he’s just alive, and—oh. he hates you. he thinks you didn’t care. he thinks you abandoned him (he thinks you hated him). but what else were you supposed to do? you were just trying to save you both, to do the right thing. you wanted a better life. it’s not your fault that you lied, you were just trying to avoid pointless conflict—it’s less hassle that way. but of course he still got mad, because he’s him, and he only ever thinks about himself. and now he thinks you didn’t care. ridiculous. maybe he didn’t care when he tried to talk you out of following your dreams. maybe he didn’t care when he didn’t even leave a note, any sort of explanation. maybe he didn’t care when he said you didn’t care! because that’s so stupid, of course you cared, all you ever cared about was him. see, you did the right thing. you simply knew better. he doesn’t understand. nobody does (nobody ever understood how hard it’s been being the perfect one). but it’s okay. everything’s fine. you guys aren’t even fighting. you’re not even mad! everything’s good. it’s all okay. sure, your brother takes any chance he gets to antagonize you and act like the only victim on planet earth, but really, it’s all good. because you’re so polite. and you’re so respectful, and so considerate, so calm, so rational, so obedient, so perfect. nothing could ever get under your skin (except everything). nothing could ever make you mad (except everyone). and surely nothing could ever make you blow up, make the dam inside you finally burst, make all your anger and grief and every bad emotion under the sun known.

(…except him.)

#hi. rikki and william are so normal. come closer #he MADDDD he thought growing up in an abusive household was for ONE DAY ONLY ! and that it would make u NORMAL ! and make u normal about #conflict and emotions and relationships and such #god. i made rikki sound evil in this and like a total asshole . and lisyen. he was kind of an ass for (gestures vaguely) lying to his #brother and then abandoning him. but william was also an asshole for shitting on rikki’s one(1) singular dream of his entire life #and for not supporting him when he needed it the most. will kind of sucked for that im ngl #and really he could’ve left a note if he was gonna just run away from home #AUEHHH. me when im in a fucked up siblings competition. Rotating them in my head #two people who thinks the other abandoned them and hates them and never cared for them #but they couldn’t be further from the truth #imma start eating metal #cramswering

[multifandomlvr]

Chapter 4

Hikari walked into the school building slowly. She just wants this day to be over. It’s one of her long days. She was so staying home tomorrow.

“Hikari! Good morning!” Ochako yelled from across the campus. Hikari turned around suppressing a scowl and an eye roll.

“Good morning Ochako, how are you?” Hikari asks. Just to be polite.

“Please, call me Uraraka. I want us to be friends.” Uraraka says with a smile.

Hikari gave a half smile and continued to walk to her first class with Uraraka in tow.

“How was your night last night?” Uraraka asked, trying to make conversation unaware that Hikari wanted to be left alone.

“It was fine, I ended up falling asleep on the couch. That was a mistake.” She comments.

“Ahh, I see… Say I saw you with Izuku this morning. I hope this is ok to ask. But are you two in a relationship?” She asked. Hikari didn’t answer but nodded her head.

“Oh wow! That’s so cool! You’re so lucky. Once again, she nodded her head.

The two arrived at the room and Hikari saw her group of friends and went with them, with Uraraka still following.

“Oh, good morning Hikari,” Mina said in a cheery tone, she gave a look behind Hikari and gave a small wave.

“Good morning Ochako,” Mina says, soon those in the group were saying good morning as well to not be rude.

Denki pulled his phone out and quickly texted Hikari, he wasn’t sure how much he was able to say.

‘Bakugo texted Shinso this morning and asked if I could come over, so I’ll be tagging along with you.’ He sent.

Hikari’s phone vibrated and she pulled it out and read the message.

‘Oh, thank goodness, I need some friendly cuddles.’ Hikari replied.

Hikari sat down while the group asked Uraraka some questions about school, her home life, and her likes and dislikes.

You know, normal questions you ask someone to get to know them.

Denki walked over and sat next to Hikari rubbing her back. Hikari closed her eyes, enjoying the little electric shocks Denki seemed to let out, it was unknown what it was, but Hikari thought it felt nice.

The rest of the group noticed right away and made a mental note to watch out for her.

The warning bell went off and Neito grabbed Denki’s hand and pulled him out of the room. He peeked his head back in.

“See you later Hikari!” He said before he was yanked.

Hikari couldn’t wait until after class was over.

Mina and Uraraka sat on each side of Hikari waiting for Professor to come in.

“Good morning class today is our quiz. I hope you all studied. It’s a hard one.” Professor Midnight said when she walked in. The quizzes were passed out and everyone started working on them.

“When you’re done. Please bring it to the front of the class and put it on my desk and then do something quietly until the end of the class. I have another assignment for you to do.” Midnight explained.

The quiz was easy for Hikari at least. She finished quickly and walked up to the front to hand it in.

“Good morning, Hikari, thank you for your test. Say, is everything ok?” Midnight asked. Hikari nodded her head.

“Omg! Are you pregnant?” Midnight asked excitedly, Hikari couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, not yet anyway. Haven’t found the right time to start trying.” Hikari explained. Midnight pouted.

Hikari walked back to her seat pulling out a book to read. Waiting for the rest of the class to finish.

Uraraka got up and turned her quiz in and then so did Mina, then a few others did as well. Soon the whole class was finished.

“Alright! Since everyone handed in their quiz, you will get these back on Monday. What I wanted to tell all of you was that we are going to be doing a group project. Mina, Hikari, Uraraka, and Momo will be in one group. When I call your name please go into your groups and we will talk about what you will be doing.” Professor Midnight said.

The other people in the class moved into their respective groups.

Momo walked over and sat down next to Uraraka.

“How are you Momo? It’s nice to see you. This is Uraraka. She’s new.” Mina introduced. Hikari stayed silent. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to people.

“Nice to meet you,” Uraraka said. Midnight came around and gave each group a slip of paper that told them what they would be doing.

“Alright, it seems we will be working on conducting a marketing campaign for a local business. Sounds easy enough. What type of business should we do?” Momo asked.

Hikari piped up knowing she should help in some way.

“We could do some advertisement or make a social media page with product pictures or something like that.” she offered.

“That sounds like a great idea!” Mina said. Momo nodded.

“Well, we have that down. What kind of business can we do?” Uraraka asked.

“How about a sweets shop? I know a cute bakery by my house we could get some things from. It might even help the business.” Hikari says.

“Awesome, why don’t we meet up this weekend at Hikari’s house and we can get some stuff to try so we are honest and real about our reviews? That should help with the social media page.” Uraraka offered. Hikari internally rolled her eyes. How the hell is going to offer her own house as she lives there of that their friends?

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I’ll bring some tea over.” Then the bell rang signaling the end of the class period.

“See you guys this weekend. Oh! Here’s my number so we can have a group chat about this. Please send your address Hikari.” Momo announced before bounding out of the classroom.

“I’m sorry Hikari… I should’ve asked before offering we go to your house.” Uraraka said sadly, she even had some tears in her eyes. Hikari looked at Mina in shock. Was this girl serious?

“Um... I promise it's ok. We’ll see you this weekend. I’ll make a group chat and send my address.” Hikari said.

In an instant, the tears are gone. Uraraka hugged Hikari before bounding out the door.

“Oh, thank you! See you this weekend!” She called.

“Is it too late to switch colleges and move out of the country before this weekend?” Hikari asked packing up her stuff.

“Nah, I think if everyone helps. We can make that happen.” Mina said.

“Oh, how I love supportive friends,” Hikari said.

Mina interlaced her hand with Hikari, and they walked to the next class.

#mha #mha fluff #fluff story #boku no hero fanfic #my hero acedamia #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #established couple #love #mha x reader #same sex marriage #mha midoriya #izuku midoriya smut ideas #izuku midoriya x reader smut #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya inko #bakugo katsuki smut ideas #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader smut #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #polyamory #polyamorous

[onboardsorasora]

You have a medieval omegaverse wip?!? Oh my god ok it’s happening everyone stay calm all the boxes have been ticked! Do you have anymore details you can share?

Hey Bestie! Are we twins??! Is this our niche!?

I do! I've shared a few snippets previously here and here!

I haven't gotten very far in the plot yet (I have 20k written) we're on pause for now but I'll be picking it back up soon (hopefully)!! We're gonna have politically arranged marriages! omega Dan! drama! angst! miscommunication!

Here's another snippet because I can't help myself!

“What do you think of the prince?” Grace asked conspiratorially, a small smile on her painted lips. Her smile widened when Daniel didn’t even try to hold back his reaction. The rolling of his eyes told her more than enough.

“The Brute Prince of the North?” Daniel scoffed and put his cup down.

Grace giggled behind a hand, “well brute or not, I think he’s handsome.” 

“Mama,” Daniel groaned, knowing his mother won’t take his scolding. She was going to continue until he gave her something. “Ok fine, he is cute. At least I can stare at him when I’ve nothing to do in that drafty old castle.”

“Don’t be like that, I’m sure there will be lots to do otherwise. I had too much to do when I married your father.”

“Yes, but Nonno actually liked you. King Jos just wants me to get pregnant as quickly as possible.” Daniel folded his arms to his chest and pouted.

“And what of Prince Max?”

“Well I’ve seen him all of three times. And the last time was because I was looking over the balustrade at the Knights training, with the other courtiers.” He rolled his eyes again and sneered.

#aaahhh I can't wait to unleash this into the world #we have so much more to go though lol #answered #anonymous #ripe cherries #the joys of wip