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poisonedprose · 8 months

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I need way more sexworker!reader x cod characters

at this point i just need it to survive

₊˚✧ sex work! — headcanons about sex work with price, soap, and gaz !

john price, john 'soap' mctavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem!reader headcanons

warnings: lower case intended, might be typos, incomplete sentences, nsfw, cursing, sex work, tattooed reader - price, m!masturbation - price, f!masturbation - soap, cream pie - soap, m!masturbation - gaz, fleshlight use - gaz

masterlists

price ! ⋆ THIS FUCKER KNOWSSSSS

⋆ mr price over here was scrolling through the only fans home page

⋆ one girl caught his eye and low and behold she had the exact same tattoo in the exact same place as you

⋆ he was grinning like a fuckin devil when he realized

⋆ lil old you had dirty lil secrets? he was gettin a kick out of this

⋆ immediately subscribed. watching every single one of your videos. even rubbing one out.

⋆ the next day this cocky mf knocks on your door with a shit eating grin

⋆ "you never told me you had an only fans."

⋆ lets just say after that he is your top supporter also buys you cute little sets to make videos in

soap ! ⋆ he was suspicious but he didn't know for sure

⋆ him and his bad habit of not knocking was good for him bad for you

⋆ he walks in like he owns the place "hey, training starts- oh wow."

⋆ you guys just stare at each other for a good minute or so

⋆ you're just like "get out????"

⋆ his ass does not get out

⋆ that solo masturbation video you were planning? yeah now it's a 'getting caught by my coworker/friend and then getting cream pied' video!!!

⋆ anyways save to say soap is a new member of your onlyfans after that

gaz ! ⋆ not a damn clue, so blissfully unaware its painful

⋆ literally would have never guessed

⋆ then you sent him one of your videos and were like "do you think i should post this? idk if i like this set"

⋆ jaw dropped. mouth wide open. drooling. catching flies. he was not ready for THAT when he opened your text

⋆ hes so caught up with how fucking horny he got he didn't even realize you said post it

⋆ the convo went a lil something like (gaz is blue)

yeah, it looks really good but post it? on what??

of duh

of?? of what??

only fans

WHAT

⋆ begs to watch you film every time now

⋆ also shamelessly fucks himself with a fleshlight while watching you

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ💋 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏��‎

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samheughanswife · 17 days

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View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Graham (@grahammctavish)

instagram

Caitriona’s exxxy at home laser gadget doesn’t seem so unseemly right now.

If at first you don’t succeed, try again.

Back to the future from a few years ago when Graham first attempted to front an OL fan experience/experiment with a price tag of $10K.

Will he get fans to spend 10 days without an appearance from JAMMF?

Good luck Dougal Graham.

Edit. Like a museum with the gift shop at the exit there will be the Dore fireside product placement and Mrs McTavish will sell the benefits of her product. Bourbon and skincare 🟩 🥃

Edit #2. Comments have been limited on the post🤣 Did he seriously believe that he would not be questioned regarding price and of course the fact that he is no longer part of OL? I do admire his rhino skin though

#Instagram

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ceilidho · 4 months

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women are just better and the fact that i’ve been thinking about genderbent cod only for you to push the content out?? i’m so thankful🙌🏽🙌🏽🫡.

i fully need fem!soap and reader going on vacation together. and ofc soap just gets a one bed suite for them because why wouldn’t they share?? they’re best friends and it’s cheaper. they share a bed all the time, it’s no big deal. (and the bed is all dolled up with flowers and mrs. and mrs. gifts when they arrive. the staff addressing them both as mrs. mctavish) and soap just happened not to bring any pjs so she’s spooning reader fully nude. enjoying how flustered reader gets about it.

and they’ve got a private pool. forcing reader to skinny dip w her. and/or swimming up behind reader as they enjoy the view. wrapping her arms around them and fully grinding against her ass. blaming it on the current even though hello??? it’s a fucking pool. grabbing onto readers hips and ass and tummy for “support” so she doesn’t drown even though she’s a damn good swimmer.

and then they have to go out, dress up for dinner each night. soap gushing over how pretty, how gorgeous her hen looks for her. and then ruining readers hair and makeup (maybe dress too) later that night because she forgot her vibrator and best friends help each other out like that<3

then they scissor<33 and poor readers still in denial as the resort/hotel workers drop of their couple package treats the next day and remind them about their couples massage

not realizing you're going on your honeymoon with her until it's too late and you're already in another country/continent.

Soap would use "i'm jus' putting on yer sunscreen, hen" as an excuse to rub her hands all over your tits and ass. scoffs in your ear when you hiss at her that you're at a public beach - no one's paying attention to the two of you, why are you freaking out so much? 'sides girls help each other with their sunblock all the time - how else were you going to reach your back without dislocating your shoulder?

obviously showering together to "conserve water". Soap pushing her tits against yours and lightly teasing you, joking about getting all soapy with her. makes you stay in the shower with her until the water runs cold (yeah, they really ended up conserving soooo much water) because she wants to count all the moles or scars or freckles on your body and says she has to make sure to scrub everywhere so you're all clean :\\

#learning in a very fun way how many of my followers r gay LMAO

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sgiandubh · 5 months

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S on BBC 4's Saturday Live: 'anything but a quiet life'

As you all know, S was today on BBC Four's Saturday Live radio talk show, sharing the scene with people like super male model David Gandy, Catrin Finch - a Welsh harpist of international repute and the ever fascinating Lucy Worsley, a strong contender (along with Mary Beard) for the title of personal favorite (living) historian.

You can listen (as I dutifully did twice) to it here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001t96r. I don't know how to embed it on this page, but that shouldn't be a problem.

The show is always interesting and I strongly suggest to let it play along and not rely only on my summing up & comments. I particularly enjoyed Lucy Worsley's Medieval and Baroque musical selection (flawless!) - but enough said, we're here for S, who was live on show from BBC's London studios.

As usually, I am going to transcript it as much as I can, primarily for those reading this post and using Google Translate (@bat-cat-reader, you are served!). So, you will kindly excuse the length, thank you.

At the 07:40 mark, a half jocular mention when prompted by the host: not a cricketer and not a harpist either (you can say many things about S, but not that he's got no humor - always a big plus in my book). But then things quickly get emotional, when he immediately mentions his mother (the question generally asked was 'what did your parents sacrifice for you?'), who 'sacrificed a lot (...) [as] a single parent, (...) she gave us everything, I think'. And then he quickly gets emotional, mentioning Chrissie H. again:

'(...) can I give my mom a shoutout, it's her birthday, on Monday [Nikki Bedi, presenter: 'aww, of course you can!'], so happy birthday, Chrissie, and thank you so much and I wish... I'm glad you never got me a harp, because I would have never dedicated myself. I think that's why I became an actor, because I didn't have to work too hard at one thing.'

It's then David Gandy's turn to talk about his own rural childhood in Billericay (Essex), his close knit family and his parents' endeavor of building a business and the now incomprehensible need to use faxes, something he has now to 'explain to the younger ones'. Then Nikki Bedi turns to S (13:08): 'Sam's laughing at that. Do you remember faxes?' Answer: 'I do.. I mean, I remember faxes getting scripts through or couriers bringing you know, scripts to your door, it..it's just a completely different world, now, and I am sure the fashion world is completely different now, isn't it, David, I mean it's changed so much'.

Onwards to more questions asked by Mrs. Bedi. This one was interesting (19:16): 'Sam, do you fear that each job you do is an act that could be your last? Is that always in the back or front of your mind?' Answer: 'Yeah, I think.. David, I mean...um... earnestly, everything you're saying there kinda rings true for my career as well... I am sure for Catrin being, you know, being a musician, I think it's, you know [Nikki Bedi: is it true, Catrin? CF: yes, absolutely, yeah, many things David said... it's the same (...)'].

Huw Stevens mentions alternatives to 'gigs', the need to plan for the future and the fact 'you always have to remain busy', mentioning S's whisky. Gandy also mentions S ('you've got quite a few businesses [...] a man after my own heart, we'll then gonna have to go out'), immediately cued in by Nikki Bedi ('whisky, tequila, gin').

Just after Lucy Worsley's superb intervention (easily my favorite of the whole program!), cue in to the kilt on a glacier part of S's chit-chat I am sure we all dutifully 🙄, by now. I noted the slight hesitation in his voice, while mentioning 'my...my friend, Graham McTavish', so I will not - yeah, sue me-, I repeat: I will not transcript this verbatim, simply because it doesn't really bring anything new or important to what we all know, already. Sitting on a glacier 'in a kilt, in commando, yes, it's my claim to fame'. Disgruntled Tumblrettes, beware - he poked fun at himself (shall I sign this to you, or are you able to read my lips?) and that is something only very intelligent people are able to do without sounding pathetic. Another interesting thing is the way Nikki Bedi presented S ('the actor, award-winning liquor maker and writer'- 36:00), roughly midway of the whole broadcast.

His dedicated segment begins at the 49:10 mark and lasts until the end, about 10 minutes in all. He was introduced by Huw Stevens: "Sam Heughan, it seems, would like anything but a quiet life", plus some cursory bio elements, mentioning his mother's influence on his own creativity, his breakthrough as JAMMF, but also TCND (Nikki Bedi watches it and 'apparently the third episode is the most steamy' 🤦‍♀️). 'He is also a philanthropist, businessman and thrill seeker, and of course, as mentioned earlier, has his own whisky and is a best-selling author'. Mentions his 'parents, characterful people, hippies, in the Seventies, with a love for Tolkien'. S: 'my mum would probably kill me if I called her a hippie' - also, 'she is not the best singer, but there was always music around'. Stevens mentions the Gandalf's Garden Soho hippie community both his parents were a part of before he was born, but S doesn't develop it. The rest (difficult childhood, loner, using his imagination sparked his creativity, etc) we know from Waypoints. The very Scottish concept of 'stravaigin'' comes along in the conversation, which is not exactly a drifter and a bit more than a wanderer (if I understood correctly) - perhaps a good title for a second personal memoir, S? I'll leave this idea float in here for free, heh. OL comes along then, and by far the most interesting thing he mentioned about it is that "it is my life, it's taken over my life', hoping it would sparkle at least some conversation in the comments' thread. OL 'has also been hugely beneficial for Scotland, increased tourism by 200% in some locations (...), and it's all down to the magic of Scotland'.

Next projects: exciting not to really know what is next, but 'I am also saying no to a lot, because I am in a place now where I think the next decision is really important (...). I enjoy being in control now (....), producing my own shows and you know, my own products. (...) once you take control of that creativity (....) there's a lot of freedom and yeah, we shall see'.

And then Huw Stevens makes a joke - but was it really a joke? it's the BBC, after all - and says that all four of the guests could contribute something to what 'could be the next generation of Bond', (S: 'the finest British production'). Cue in an anecdote about S being invited to present an event to Buckingham Palace and taking a cab to a pub, right afterwards. MPC and tomorrow's book signing at Saint Pancras station wrap off the show.

Quickly, my 50 cents on it: way, way better than expected and S always delivers when they ask no weird questions about his private life (hallelujah, maybe they listen to us, after all?). The question about the fear of each job being the last reminded me of one of his answers in a very early interview: 'your biggest fear? getting the sack'. This time, his answer, whatever he intended to say, got lost in the brouhaha, but I suspect not much has changed, essentially, even if the 'after OL' part of the show strives to tell a more optimistic story.

But the thing that impressed me the most and in a very good way is the attention he got from all the other people invited in that studio. Unlike the social nobodies of Tumblr, they did not find bizarre the fact that he created his own spirits business and is actively promoting it. They were far from judging him: in fact, I even think he made a new friend of David Gandy, who had quite positive and nice and honest things to say about him. S was articulate and graceful and very moving every single time he mentioned Chrissie. And I am also sure he would have loved to share more things, especially when David was lovingly talking about his wife and daughters. But he couldn't. And that is a shame. But this too, shall pass - The Boy is slowly learning to say no to a lot of things, as he just let us know. Probably the best news we've got from him in a good while.

And now, onwards to a particularly venomous Anon I am still pondering the answer to.

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koufli · 9 months

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❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 ‘𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.’ 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬/𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞. 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭…𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐮…𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞. ;) 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, “𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞! ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 !𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐓𝐚𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞?𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟐𝟎𝟎-𝟏𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀!𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 !𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

Obsession.

Chapter 1.

Ever since I started your new job at KorTac, which was now a few years ago, Konig had always been like this. And when I mean, 'like this,' I mean completely obsessed with me.

I'm not intending to sound stuck up my own ass or self obsessed, I mean it literally. Konig had a problem. Everyone around me had caught onto the fact he couldn't keep his eyes off of me during work, and up until a few months ago, everyone took it lightheartedly.

John and Gaz made the subtle comments and teases about Konig having a simple liking towards me, nothing more nothing less, but when a few months ago I found him outside my door, I didn't take it as blithely.

John had described Konig as a simple man with few words, and much like Mr. Simon Riley, had a tendency to hide his face under a mask. Konig was a large Austrian man, towering at a petrifying height of 6'10 and had an undoubtedly dark aura that always surrounded him.

Today was yet another day of stressful work and I felt so under pressure with being placed in charge of shipment deals, which I'd been assigned to do by Mr. Price, especially when I constantly felt a pair of familiar eyes burning through the back of me all the time, always bringing the same chill to run up my spine.

As I work at my desk and try to shake off the feeling, I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a gentle hand on my shoulder. Mr. McTavish’s friendly demeanour and pleasant Scottish accent had caught my attention and indulged in a brief chat with me.

I spin on my chair to face him as he hands me a stack of papers, and as he did so, that same feeling of my neck hairs standing on edge shuddered across my body, forcing my eyes to wander behind him.

And there he was, Konig sat in his chair staring, but this time it was different. He wasn't staring at me, but at John, shooting daggers through the back of his head as his fists clenched by his ungodly huge thighs. Those same mysterious blue eyes that were wavering on the back of Johns head distracted me and I was sure I could see a vein bulge on his forearm.

I swallowed nervously, John's voice snapping me back into my reality.

“Sae by th' nicht, aye?”

His Scottish accent did snap my thoughts into gear and I glance up at him, shaking my head with a polite smile.

“yeah...yeah, sure by tonight."

He nods and walks off, humming a tune as he leaves the office. I turn back to my desk with a gruff sigh, groaning quietly at the fact I had so much work to finish tonight.

By the time work was over, I was exhausted and already on the way home. I decided to stop by at one of the shops across from my apartment at around six, the sky already a darkening hue due to the frosty winter season that was now making me regret not buying gloves. I was browsing through the isles, trying to figure out what shitty meal to eat for dinner when a scruffy male stopped by. He was taller than me, a disheveled beard surrounding his mouth chapped lips, staring at what I had in my hand with a toothy grin.

"good choice."

He commented, now glancing me up and down.

"You seem quite tense."

He says. I stare at him, bewildered at what he was saying. Strange, but okay. I smiled politely at him, thinking he was just trying to be chatty until he took a step closer.

"I could take you back to my place again and ease that problem for you."

Knowing what he meant, I shook my head.

"Seriously? You're one strange fucker. No."

"You ain't going anywhere,"

his voice was slurred, clearly drunk, but without a single second being able to pass by, a large figure appeared from behind the shelves and grabbed his shirt by the cuff. Konig stared down at his body as he violently pressed him against the shelves, making some cereal boxes topple down and somehow making the quivering man look unbelievably smaller.

"Don't fucking touch her. You even look her way and I'll break both of your legs."

He spits, his German accent thick through his anger, the man who he held by the scruff now trembling, grabbing onto Konigs wrist and trying to shake the undeniably strong grip off of him. Konig stared at the man with pure venom for a few moments, breathing heavily as the veins in his hands protruded through his skin. After a few moments of this, Konig let him go with a push, towering over him as he toppled from the sudden force that shot him backwards.

Konig now returned to my side and made sure he left, watching as the startled man stumbled and murmured curses under his breath. But all I could do was crane my neck up at Konig and stare at him, a single question going through my head.

How was he here at such perfect timing?

The thought scared me and intrigued me, but I realised that was probably the first time I'd ever heard him speak.

"Are you alright, Elijah?"

He breathed out, his gorgeous blue eyes scanning across my face and his accent sounding so sweet. Hell, I was scaring myself with the thought of him even being labelled as sweet. I could tell through the fabric of his mask he was frowning in a worried manner. I wonder what he looked like under that mask...

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pettypiastri · 1 year

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my boyfriend's boyfriend

jamie drysdale x fem reader ft. trevor zegras

requested by @corneliaskates: "okay in light of these photos… I’m making you write jamie for me what about like moving in with him but like moving in with him also means moving in with trevor and… chaos ensues"

wc: 2.3k

warnings: blood in the context of undercooked food and also minor injury, reference to Jamie's shoulder injury and doctors offices, swearing, mention of drugs in a medical context, chaos, buffoonary

a/n: just some fun casual writing for a collection of scenes that i think you’d likely see upon moving into the zegras/drysdale household, pls enjoy the chaos! lots of this unhinged behavior we already knew about the 2 of them but a few details came from the recent "The Players Lounge" podcast episodes with jamie and trevor so go listen! (also would the homies wanna see me write for mason mctavish cause i really would love to do so)

Jamie stares blankly at the doctor as he continues to come to. He doesn’t hear the inquisition the doctor made. The first thought on his mind is the only thought he's had since he skated off the ice, his left shoulder in a dead hang: his season is over, there’s no way around it.

“Mr. Drysdale?” The physician tries to get Jamie’s attention.

“Yes, umm I’ll be there to help him. I’ve taken time off work.” Jamie turns his head slowly to look at you. He barely registers what you’ve said. He almost wants to ask you to repeat it but he knows he heard you right. The doctor shifts toward you, flipping through the aftercare instructions and various medications Jamie will have to take. You’re collected, attentive, and receptive all the while Jamie’s eyes bore into your profile, trying to understand. He’s still drowning in self-wallowing and frustration and now is trying to parse through the funny sort of feeling in his heart watching you prepare yourself to be a part time caretaker for him. Not only are you here right now, you’ve just admitted out loud, without any previous discussion between the two of you that you are not just willing but going to help him during his recovery?? He feels an intensity to communicate his love and appreciation for you that he’s not used to but ends up manifesting as,

“Will you move in with me?” The door to the exam room has just barely clicked shut from the doctor’s exit. Your spine is rod straight now from where you were previously collecting your purse and coat. Jamie’s always been a fiddler, twitching and messing with loose skin on his finger or the belt loop of your jeans, but now he sits perfectly still as he stares at you.

“Where’s the big red button, I think they gave you too much of something bud.” Humor always serves as a great deflection tactic for you but Jamie won’t let you off the hook.

“No no, I’m serious. Do you want to move in with me?” Your expression remains slightly standoffish as you draw closer to the bed. As you prop yourself on the hospital bed, you notice his eyes are inviting, stoic: a safe place to land. Lazy fingers reach to soothe Jamie’s uninjured arm.

“Would you have asked me if you hadn’t torn your shoulder?” Jamie’s nod is emphatic.

“Yes, it probably just would’ve taken me a bit longer to ask. You still make me nervous-- but like in a good way, in a good way.” Jamie stumbling over his words endears you like nothing else. “I kind of hate being without you, not in a weird codependent way, I just really like who I am when you’re around.”

Your mind is already made up after Jamie’s unbridled honesty but you still have to ask,

“Shouldn’t you run this by Trev first maybe?” He is a member of the household, though not much of a contributing one. To sell his conviction, Jamie’s eyes don’t leave yours as he reaches for his phone in the back pocket of the jeans he thinks he’s wearing. He gets an awful fright meeting bare skin under the hospital gown. Creasing at the waist with laughter doesn’t hinder you too much as you dig for his phone in your purse. He takes it sheepishly from your grasp. As he dials Trevor’s number, you urge him to put it on speaker phone.

“Jimmy! How high are you, man??”

“Z, Y/N’s gonna move in with us.”

“I thought she already lived here?”

—

Since the moment of Jamie’s injury you’ve been practically inseparable. Surgeon consultations, post op, helping him dress, cooking for him, you’ve truly been there for it all for Jamie. Now that he’s several months post op and regained most all of his range of motion, he’s been eager to pick up some slack.

“Are they closed?”

“Jamie my love, yes. I’ve literally had them closed every time you’ve asked in the last 15 minutes.” You sigh, patience thinning at both the frequent reminders and… well… how goddamn slow Jamie’s being. To pass the time, you’ve taken to concocting a game with the yellow spots on the inside of your closed eyelids.

“Dude it’s been fucking hours would you hurry up already?”

“Trevor, no one asked you.” Jamie snips at his childish best friend. It’s date night tonight and Jamie wanted to cook for you. Trevor decided, because he is cripplingly codependent, that he just had to sit on the living room couch to scroll Instagram. You’ve mentally taken the under on Trevor stealing some of your bread with olive oil within the first five minutes of it being in front of you because ‘Jimmy why didn’t you make any for me too?’

“Okay it's ready, you can open!” Slowly doing as you’re told to readjust to the well lit dining room, you catch Jamie scurrying around to his side of the table. His face holds an adorably pleased expression, you can tell he’s very proud of himself. The spread in front of you is barbequed steak, bread with olive oil, and a green salad; a shockingly balanced meal. A normally restless boy, Jamie vibrates with excitement even more now as he waits for your appraisal.

“Jamie baby, it looks amazing! Thank you!” Crows' feet emerge to compensate for his smile becoming impossibly wider, yet he’s still a bit shy, bashful after your praise.

“I’d hope so, it took you long enough Jimbo,” the peanut gallery croons again. You don’t even acknowledge Trevor as you begin to saw through your steak… until red liquid begins to pour out… Stunned and surprised, your mouth gapes for a moment, finding the gentlest way to put things.

“Jamie,” drawing out the final vowel, your eyes flick to his. His expression is eager with eyebrows raised in question.

“How long was this steak on the barbeque for?”

“Like 10 minutes I think? Why?” Jamie pales slightly at your question.

“I think the heat was too high babe.” Jamie observes his steak with a close eye and then oggles yours from across the table before reaching for his knife.

“What do you mean? You said it looks amazing, I mean look at those char marks!”

“Jamie baby, it's practically still moo’ing…” Trevor bursts out laughing, his stupid wheeze accompanying Jamie’s panic. As his knife breaches the admittedly lovely crust, bloody liquid pours out of Jamie’s steak as well. The color of his cheeks grows to match that of what's on his plate. Jamie starts to say something but it’s Trevor’s voice you both hear instead.

“Just put it in the microwave.”

—

The team returned last night from the East coast road trip. You and Jamie have been in denial about Trevor’s return, trying to stretch out the silence with a lazy day on the couch. Trevor however has had other plans.

“Why do I have the least blanket right now? I’m literally the tallest of us three.”

“Because no one invited you to join?” You shove at Trevor’s toes that are digging into your thigh from how you’re sardine-d on the couch. He whines as you do so, pushing at you back. Harder. “Ow Trevor stop!”

“What I’m not fucking doing anything!”

“Guys! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Jamie bursts, effectively shutting you both up. Trevor glares at you as you snuggle further into Jamie’s chest, Jamie's arm visibly tightening around you. The face you give Trevor is smug.

“Fine, I’ll just go somewhere else then.” As he stands from the couch he makes an equally childish display of flipping the blanket up and over your head, messing up your hair and covering your eyes.

Jamie coos quietly at you not to say anything or react so you remain calm and settle in to watch the rest of the current episode of Yellowstone with your boyfriend.

A few minutes later when there is a distinct cacophony of falling caps, banging metal doors, and at least a liter container of liquid (hopefully closed) hitting the floor, it’s not hard to tell Trevor has decided to do his laundry. He comes back upstairs acting as if nothing was afoot.

It’s not until an hour later when Trevor has made the switch to the dryer that you notice something actually might be off. Wafting up from downstairs is a distinct smell of burning. You pause to be sure your nose isn’t confusing something else before voicing your worry.

“Do you smell that?” Jamie sniffs violently enough to be audible.

“What are you– oh shit!” Jamie moves from behind your back leaving you flopping onto yours from his quickness. “Trevor!!” He shouts while bounding down the stairs. “I told you, you have to clean the lint trap every single time you use the dryer!” His voice grows inaudible the farther downstairs he gets. Trevor peeks his head out from his room.

“Was he talking to me?” You can’t help but laugh, hands covering your face in disbelief.

“Why are we friends with you?”

“I’m fucking awesome, duh.”

—

“Okay don’t panic–” Is all you hear before you start to panic. “But umm Z might’ve slipped on the roof…”

“Tell me you’re joking. Why are you calling me? Oh my god Jamie, call the trainer or something! Is he hurt?” It’s brisk in the shade where you stepped out of your office to answer the incessant calls from your boyfriend. You’re still not off for another hour.

“I think he’s okay. Definitely tore open his leg but we put some stuff on it. He’s still complaining about it but you know him, he’s always complaining about something so I think he’s okay.” As Jamie finishes, your phone vibrates with a text. “I sent you a picture of it.” The picture reveals a shallow cut about 6 inches long down the front of Trevor’s calf. There’s still remnants of blood around the cut itself and more notably about 12 normal sized bandaids placed like a patchwork quilt over the area of interest. Idiots. “We didn’t wanna get in trouble with the team…” Jamie says softly, decidedly embarrassed.

“I see. Okay well great job with the band aids you guys. I’ll pick some more up on the way home and some other supplies. Why were you up there?”

“I was playing guitar and Trevor came up to tell me he could do it better and then promptly took it from me.” There’s a pouty lilt to Jamie’s voice that makes you wonder if Trevor’s really the one that got hurt.

“Did he damage your guitar Jim Jam?” A shiver rakes your body as you’re desperate to get back inside the office.

“No, thank god.” He’s quiet, waiting for your reply.

“You’re doing great Jamie, it’s really coming along baby.” He chirps a thank you, easily excited by your dismissal of Trevor’s insult. The two of you say your goodbye’s over Trevor’s whining in the background.

On your way home, as promised, you stop at a drugstore to grab some gauze and larger wraps for Trevor’s ‘injury.’ You send a snarky picture of two contending boxes of Band Aids side by side to Trevor. Your caption ‘Mandalorian or Tangled?’ Something tells you Trevor’s reply is completely serious when your phone lights up with ‘Flynn Rider.’

—

Jamie slips into your shared bathroom as you’re fanning gently at your face. He smiles kindly but doesn’t start a conversation. Instead he reaches for his toothbrush and sets to brushing his teeth. The two of you don’t normally get ready for bed together at the exact same time. Typically one of you is asleep on the couch and being prodded at by the other to come to bed. Well, you normally prod at Jamie while he normally gallantly carries you to bed without disturbing your sleep. As he brushes his teeth, Jamie observes you as his entertainment. He steadies himself with a hip popped against the counter and one foot crossed in front of the other.

Jamie’s attention does not bother you. Being the type not to speak until prompted, Jamie’s stays silent, his watchful gaze comforting if anything. That is until his lips form a small smile around his toothbrush that begins to grow. Finally you flick your eyes over to him in the mirror and notice toothpaste beginning to trickle down his chin. A drop that was lingering ominously begins to fall so you lurch forward to catch it in the palm of your hand, not wanting to risk the white carpet square Jamie’s standing on.

“If you keep smiling like that you’re gonna get toothpaste on yourself Jamie. Be careful.” The toothpaste in your palm is flicked into the sink before you promptly rinse your hand. Jamie heeds your warning, deciding it's time for him to rinse as well. After his hands are towel dried he moves to hug you from behind. The smile is still on his face.

“Seriously, what are you smiling about, mister?” A giggle escapes your chest. You feel Jamie’s shrug against your back as you dig for another product in the drawer next to you.

“Dunno, I’m just so happy you’re here.” Around you, Jamie’s never shied away from honesty and it’s something you’ve always appreciated. The last few months living with Jamie and Trevor has been chaos, hell at times, and insanely stressful but you’ve still found joy in every moment. So you meet Jamie’s honesty with some of your own when you say,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”

Later, when the two of you find yourselves curled around each other in bed, under an excessive number of blankets, it’s like Trevor has ESP for when he’s being left out of affections. A knock on the conjoining wall confirms this theory. His voice is muffled but you can still make it out.

“I love you guys.” Jamie chuckles and kisses your forehead, shaking with laughter of your own.

“We love you too Trevor.”

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #anaheim ducks #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #ducks hockey #my writing

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multi-fandom-imagine · 6 months

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Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

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ghostgorlsworld · 4 months

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Johnny Boy (part six)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Guys I cannot stress this enough, there is SMUT in this chapter. There is also dubious consent because of alcohol, as well as dark!Johnny being dark. He's not a good guy in this story and he's not all the way human, so his morals are WAY off--also I don't write smut very often so pls tell me if it was bad.

A bottle of wine later and you were feeling much better about the situation. After all, you weren’t sure you even wanted to kiss Charlie–he dressed like a frumpy old man and had weekly dinners with his grandmother.

Before he was a slag, those qualities were endearing, like a stray dog with an ear flopped over. Now, they were just…unappetizing.

Not like Johnny, ridiculous mohawk or no.

You uncorked another bottle of the expensive wine Tom had gotten you for Christmas and poured yourself another hefty glass, Pride and Prejudice 2005 keeping you company on the telly.

It was nine o’clock. You texted Tom to make sure he had Emma in bed, just a touch too tipsy to see the keys properly.

Yes, she’s asleep, are you drunk??

You smiled to yourself. No.

Did you get stood up again?

You sniffled. Fuck off.

You forced yourself away from the phone, focusing back on Mr. Darcy and the infamous hand scene.

You found yourself thinking about Johnny again. The first time he kissed you was a little fuzzy, but you could remember the hand gripping your chin, the fingers digging into your skin.

It had been like he had wanted to devour you, and you were just happy to be devoured.

It was half-way through the glass when a knock came to the door.

It was probably Charlie, with his tail between his legs. You sighed, pausing the telly as you wobbled to your feet.

“What?” You snapped, ripping the door open.

“Nice pajamas, kitty.”

Johnny stood on your doorstep once again, carrying a takeout box that smelled suspiciously like your favorite pizza and garlic knots. He smiled, so blue-eyed and pretty it physically made you want to cry.

“What do you want?” You sighed, steadying yourself against the wall. “Can’t a girl wallow in peace?” “Ah, did I interrupt a pity party, kitty?” Johnny teased, inviting himself in. “Perfect. I brought ye dinner.”

“Johnny,” you said, your voice pitching close to a whine.

He stilled, looking at you. His hand came up, pinching your chin like he used to. “You havnae called me Johnny in a very long time.” The rawness of his voice broke you down into someone you used to be, someone that loved him. You leaned into the warmth of his palm, unable to stop yourself. “You were gone, Johnny. I missed you.” Johnny’s fingers tightened on your jaw, his mouth twisting to the side. His eyes flickered to the table, where the empty bottle sat. “You’re shit-faced, kitty.” You nodded, his thumb sliding up to brush against your bottom lip. “M’a light weight now. Motherhood means bein’ responsible, and no drinkin’.” “It looks good on ye,” Johnny said, finally dropping his hand.

“What, the alcohol?”

“Bein’ a mother. I used to think about it sometimes, what you were doing–if you were with anyone, if you had any pups yet.” Johnny turned, busying himself with the pizza. “When they let me reach out to Tom, I think the first words out me mouth were about you.” That surprised you. “He never told me about that.” “Mmm,” Johnny rumbled. “He’s a good brother. He told me you were happy, and that you weren’t alone. That was it, no matter how much I asked.” He put a slice on a plate and gave it to you. “Now sit, kitty. I need you to sober up a bit.” You obeyed, taking a bite as you sat before him. “I stopped trying to find you after her third birthday. I just figured that you would be better off not knowing, you know, I could finally move on.” The alcohol had dampened the anger in your chest, you felt…open. Open to talking about it. Bleeding the poison from the wound.

Johnny slid a hand into his pocket, pulling out a very worn, very tattered picture of-

You. It was you six years ago, Johnny’s arm around your shoulder as you laughed.“Carried it w’me all over the world, kitty.” That contradicted everything. “But why? You don’t…” you trailed off, the wine haze falling away with your shock.

“Why do you think I left, lass?” Johnny asked, his eyes reflecting the glare of the dim kitchen lights. “Did you ever ask yourself why the fuck I didn’t call you or why I never responded to your letters?” This was confusing. You frowned. “Of course I did. I just figured you…you grew out of me. You found your family with people more like you.” Johnny reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of papers, neatly gathered by a rubber band.

They were letters. Your letters, the ones you had sent when he left the first time, the pages yellowed and crumpled with use, as if they were read often.

“I kept ‘em, every last one,” Johnny trailed a hand over the paper, gently as if they were something precious. “Does it look like I forgot you?” “Sure felt like it,” you said, but the venom was gone.

“Some of them still smelled like you. The lads thought I’d lost me mind, reading the same fucking letters every night after missions.”

“Johnny,” you said. “Johnny this doesn’t make any sense, I thought…I thought you came for Emma.” “I dinnae know she even existed, kitty, I thought I was doing the right thing, staying a world away from you.” “But why? You-you broke my heart, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me or Tommy.” Within a blink, Johnny was kneeling before you, his hands on your knees as his eyes bored into yours. You felt a chill, a whisper of fight or flight pricking your neck at his predatory stare.

“It wasn’t right, what I felt for the little girl I taught how to ride a bike, kitty,” he whispered. “I left because you were sixteen and I shouldn't have been thinking the things I was thinking. It’s different for wolves, see, we…we know when someone is right for us, we can smell it, and it’s hard to fight instinct, kitty, it’s who we are.” “But I loved you enough to think about your future. I wanted you to have a life without me standin’ over your shoulder, I wanted to give you time to choose what you wanted.” “I wanted you,” you said honestly, reeling from his words. “I know, kitty, but that didn’t make it right. I came back a few years later thinkin’ maybe things would be different, that maybe I could control myself but…I couldn’t stand bein’ in a fuckin’ room with you. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, so I signed for another contract, this one different from the others. They would take me away from you, and in return I could hunt, I could be me, the real me, for the first time in me life–because if I was myself around you, you wouldn’t like it very much, bonnie.” He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deep. “Then suddenly you were there, the night before I was s’posed to leave, and you were fuckin’ sloshed and gorgeous and everything I couldn’t have.” You remembered that night fuzzily. It hadn’t taken much, just a smile pointed his way and your clumsy kiss on his cheek then suddenly he was pulling you away from the bar, shoving his tongue down your throat in the dark back alley. He had tasted like beer and whiskey and Johnny. You had never wanted him more.

Your eyes welled up. You looked away, blinking furiously. “Johnny,” you sighed. “I can’t. I spent six years being so unbelievably hurt, you can’t fix it in a night.” He kissed your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. “I know, kitty, I’ll spent the rest of our fuckin’ life making it right. Everything I ever wanted with you happened while I wasn’t here, I’ll never let you go now.” You tried to push him away, but Johnny was a big lad, his hands sliding to your hips to clutch you closer. He licked away the tears on your cheek with a hum, just like Emma always tried to do.

“I’m not yours,” you said, your voice holding zero conviction. “You left.”

But Johnny wasn’t paying attention, his face in your hair. “You smell like the mother of my baby, ” he said roughly, inhaling. “When Tom told me you were with someone two years ago, I lost control for the first time in a fucking decade. Bit a head off or two, imaginin’ they were him, this bastard you allowed in my place.” His teeth nipped at your collar, already longer and sharper than they had been a moment before.

“John,” you said, pushing at his chest. “What are you doing?”

Johnny pulled away, his eyes sparkling. “C’mon, kitty cat, we both know how pent-up ya are,” he went in for a kiss but you turned your head, his mouth landing on your chin. It didn’t stop him though, his tongue laving a line from your chin to the corner of your mouth. “Please, kitty, lemme help,” Johnny panted, his breath hot and sticky against your skin. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You had forgotten how gross he was sometimes, how he liked to lick and bite, even when you play-fought as kids. It turned you on more than anything, white-hot liquid pooling in your belly as the musky taste of his hormones filled the air.

You let him kiss you. Johnny made a noise, a mix between a growl and a whine as he got to work ruining your mouth. It wasn’t a good kiss–but it was so Johnny, messy and wild and slightly painful, his teeth catching on your bottom lip just so he could lick the pinpricks of blood away.

“Missed ya, kitty cat,” he said, forcing you to look in his eyes while he swiped his tongue back into your throat. “All I had was a picture and letters, but I could get off just from you writing that you missed me, just from your smell lingering on the fucking paper.” You made a surprised noise in the back of your throat, the wine causing you to shift in your seat, feeling the heat of your arousal soak through your underwear.

Johnny inhaled deeply, shoving his head between your legs before you could pull away. He bit you through your pajama pants playfully, his teeth digging into the soft meat of your thigh.

You yelped and he laughed, a harsh, gritty noise that made you shiver. “Johnny,” you whined, pushing at his head.

“Johnny,” he mimicked, grinning as he nipped at your fingers. The glint in his eye reminded you of simpler days, when he was just lazy-eyed Johnny that made you laugh.

“This is such a bad idea,” you said weakly. Your head was spinning, dizzy with alcohol and desire.

“You can hate me tomorrow, bonnie,” he said fondly, kissing your knee as he slid your pajama pants down your hips.

And you allowed it. You let him shuck your pants, you let him paste sticky kisses to your underwear line, his penchant for dirty talk that you barely remembered coming in full swing as he swiped a callused finger through your slick.

“My poor girl,” Johnny cooed, sinking his teeth into your thigh as if to control himself. “I tried to be good, kitty, I tried so, so fuckin’ hard–I was gonnae take my time, win ya over, wait until you were fuckin’ gaggin’ for it, but I’m just not that man anymore.” You slid your hand through his hair, just like you used to, that old love squeezing your heart so hard you thought it might burst. It was soft and thick, your nails scraping against his scalp.

The simple act of affection pushed him over the edge. He had his mouth on you in an instant, the lacy edges of your underwear drifting to the floor in shreds.

Your whine was caught in your throat when Johnny gripped your hips with sharpened nails, dragging you closer to himself with a ripple of power.

Johnny didn’t look like Johnny anymore. The humor drained from his gaze as he looked up at you, the blue sharpening into something cruel, something like a killer.

Something like a wolf.

You looked away as he licked a line from back to front, pleasure shuddering up your spine. God it had been so long-

“Oh, no, bonnie,” Johnny panted, the sharp drag of his nails painful against your hips. “Eyes down here. Don’t ever fuckin’ look away.” His hand grabbed your chin, pulling your attention back to him. “Watch,” he said, his tone deadly soft.

Johnny had always known how to embarrass you, how to make you squirm. He licked and sucked, dipping his tongue inside of you just to tease, just to make you yelp and blush.

It felt like hours. You would make a soft noise and he would slide another finger inside of you just to make you squeal, the stretch making your jaw drop.

“She’s cryin’ for it, eh, kitty?” Johnny whispered, flexing his hand. “She was fuckin’ waiting for me.” You come embarrassingly quick, gripping his hair and squirming as you cream into his mouth. He continues licking you far past the trembling aftershocks, cleaning up his mess like a good dog.

“Too much, too much,” you hissed, wriggling away from his needful mouth.

Johnny fucking laughed at you, his mouth slick and his eyes so hazy he looked as drunk as you felt. “I’ve been thinkin’ about the way ya taste for so long I thought I dreamed it.” He looked younger for a moment, the scars disappearing, the stray gray hairs in his mohawk fading to brown. Suddenly, you couldn’t stand to look at him, the heat cooling on your skin.

“Johnny,” you said, choking on your words. You couldn’t help the tears pricking your eyes, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

“Shh, bonnie,” Johnny brought you in his arms, guiding your head into the space between his shoulder and neck with his wide palm. “You’re all tuckered out, hmm? I’m sorry, kitty, I didn’t mean ta push you so far…” He whispered in your ear while he carried you to bed, his accent twisting and turning the words into Scottish gibberish. You nodded sleepily against his shoulder, already half-convincing yourself that this was a dream as he tucked you in bed like a little girl.

“Night, bonnie,” Johnny whispered, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead.

You mumbled something incoherent, tucking your pillow over your head.

#cod x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #call of duty mw3 #johnny mactavish x reader

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enqmind · 4 days

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Okay, @leftshoeuntied, there's more of this now.

Warnings: Mention of non-consensual groping, mention of groper getting stabbed with knitting needles, in later parts there will be guilt tripping but it's cute for now

Reader notes: Knows how to knit.

Hit one, Purl One II

Just think about how baffling this would be for Ghost.

He’s just gone out to the park with Johnny and his kid. Partially so the girls can have a little peace and partially so he can get used to being around babies again before his own comes.

Johnny wanted to swing ‘round the Waitrose (urgh) on the way back to pick up some treats for his Mrs. This was where they ran into Price.

He was supposed to just be joining them for a cup of tea. Supposed to.

So when Simon heard the tell tale sounds that indicated violence, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting. Maybe Price in a scuffle with some brute while the girls took shelter behind the table?

“Wha-”

That was not what he found.

“What?”

His Captain was clutching at his face while the three women stared at him.

Mrs McTavish looking horrified, his treasure breaking out into a nervous laugh and the new girl clutching a hardback book to her chest with a guilty expression.

Johnny appeared next to him, surprising Simon in his bafflement.

“Captain, what happened to your face?”

The new girl was the only one on this side of the table, and she was holding what amounted to a blunt weapon.

“Did you hit him?” Simon asked her.

She looked at the floor.

“Yeah… sorry.”

Mrs McTavish stood and moved around the table.

“It’s the stabbing all over again,” she muttered, “you really only have yourself to blame, John.”

Price moved his hands so she could have a look and staunch the blood.

“Stabbing?”

“That’s not fair,” the new girl protested, “Captain, er, John, didn’t shove his hand up my skirt.”

All eyes bar those belonging to Johnny’s bird zeroed in on her.

“You stabbed a groper,” Price said, still commanding despite the napkin held to his face.

“It was on the bus. I was knitting a scarf… he startled me.” She remained staunchly staring at the ground. “So… yeah.”

That sounded familiar.

“Was this about two years ago?” Ghost asked.

She nodded meekly.

“I read about it in the local paper. Very impressive.” He nudged Johnny, “your Mrs has good taste. In friends, if nothing else.”

The pout was very satisfying.

“Thanks for volunteering to drive John to A&E,” she smiled at him, saccharine, “because it looks broken.”

The new girl buried her face in her hands.

“I’m so, so sorry. I’ll take you, it’s my fault.”

“Babe, you don’t drive.”

“I’ll call a taxi.”

Price let out a chuckle.

“You don’t have to, Simon will drop us off and you can call one to bring us back.”

She peered out from between her fingers before lowering her hands and looking curiously at Ghost.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Sure he is,” Price beamed, looking over her to Ghost’s bird, “right, Treasure?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll just stay here and eat gingerbread.”

“See? No problem at all.”

“I’m not-”

“It’s fine,” Ghost cut her off. “It won’t take long.”

She went from looking like a half deflated balloon to a fully deflated one.

“Okay, just… let me get my knitting out of my bag and we can go.”

Price smiled.

“There’s no need. No one will get close enough to you for you to worry about stabbing them.”

The poor thing looked mortified.

#call of duty #cod fic #call of duty x reader #cod #cod john price #john price #john price x reader #john price x #john price x oc #edit: i scanned the image so it looks better now

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saturncodedstarlette · 1 year

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Chapter VI

Mr. McTavish, in a middle of conversation with Sir Riley :

Sir Riley, who doesn’t even want to be here, but then caught a glimpse of them entering the room :

Y/N, notices them as hastily trying to pass :

Mr. McTavish : Oh, dear mate, why are you not dancing?

Mr. McTavish, holds their hand gestures to Sir Riley : Lieutenant Riley, allow me to introduce my dearest mate to you as a very desirable partner.

Y/N, forced smiling as they’re in the present of their friend :

Sir Riley, completely tuned out everything Mr. McTavish is spewing as he’s lays his full attention to them :

Mr. McTavish, oblivious to the tension : You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.

Y/N, still with the forced smile : Indeed, dear friend. I have not the least intention of dancing. Please don’t suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner?

Sir Riley, stepped forward to their direction : I would be very happy if you’d do me the honour of dancing with me, [YOUR TITLE].

Y/N, internally wants to vomit at the sight of his face but endured it : Thank you, but excuse me…—I am. ….not inclined to dance.

Mr. McTavish, laughs : Come, come, why not? When you see that Sir Riley has no objection, although he dislikes the amusement so much in general.

Y/N, sardonically : Sir Riley is all politeness.

Mr. McTavish : He is, he is! And why should he not be, considering the inducement, for who could object to such a partner!

Mr. McTavish, sneers at Sir Riley : Eh, Lieutenant?

Y/N, has had enough : I beg you would excuse me.

Y/N, does a curtesy bow then leaves :

Mr. McTavish, surprised : Oh? They’re isn’t usually like that.

Sir Riley, eyes locked onto their figure, completely enamoured : . . .

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closets-closet · 1 month

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Because I can’t get enough of Mr. McTavish I have this Idea that this man definitely has sex to Hozier OR Lana Del Ray.. Now I could be making this man a lot softer then he actually is.. But i’m saying the speed at which my clothing would disappear if he started playing Hozier.

I would set a world record 🫡

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #cute #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x you #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #johnny #soap x reader #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mwii

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maximumwobblerbanditdonut · 4 months

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The Scottish winter scuppered plans for a second domestic series of Men in Kilts.

Sam Heughan revealed he had hoped to make a follow-up to the 2021 Starz TV show and Clanlands book which was set in Scotland.

But the 43-year-old Outlander star has revealed the follow-up, which was filmed in New Zealand, was moved down under due to a combination of short days and the schedule of his and co-star Graham McTavish, 63.

He said: “We initially looked at options in Scotland, doing another season of the show exploring the north of Scotland, Shetland, its ties to Scandinavia, Ireland etc.

“I am very much interested in the Viking influence (growing up in Galloway near Whithorn and the Viking settlement there).

“My initial idea was to do ‘Men in Kilts - in boats!’, have us in Viking longship, speed boats, kayaks, swimming/scuba, however challenges with our schedules meant our window for filming would fall in the winter months, not ideal for daylight in the UK.”

Mr McTavish added: “We’d really enjoyed the first experience and hopefully will do another. We did New Zealand because I live there and New Zealand has a very strong connection with Scotland.

“One in five have Scottish ancestry, and it’s a mirror of Scotland in many ways - the people, the landscape, you can see why the Scots settled so easily.”

And the pair are set to reunite for a third chapter.

Mr McTavish added: “Our sights are set on North America particularly the eastern seaboard, from Nova Scotia down through Maine, New York, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, places with a strong connection to Scotland.

"There are bears and moose. I’m sure Sam is drawing up a list.”

It is unclear when SH and GMcT were selected and interviewed by the Scottish Sun to reveal their plans 🤔 Whether there are any projects underway at commitment level for a third chapter.

In fact, excavations showed a Norse trading settlement around the Galloway coast. SH was born in New Galloway, which is 34.7 miles (about 55 km) from the Viking settlement of Whithorn; I don't think he went very far to play every day when he was a kid. I don't remember him being interested in Viking Ages, maybe he likes watching Vikings: Valhalla drama series 🤷‍♀️

Filming has never been easy, but filming in the middle of a Scottish winter, in the Shetland islands, during the dark British winters, means that the goal was not clearly defined, unless his idea was to go to Lerwick to the Up Helly Aa parade with torches marching a Viking longship through Lerwick, during the "Shetland Fire Festival", and the idea didn't work. Lerwick Up Helly Aa is a superb spectacle, a celebration of Shetland's history, from the Norse sagas.

But there is something interesting that SH always forgets to mention: in winter 2021 he had a motorcycle accident 🏍️ which would also have prevented him from filming. So the hours of darkness and his demanding schedule led him to an unforeseen change of location for MiK2: he tries to tell a different story and that doesn't convince. He went to New Zealand to have fun and to recover physically from the motorbike accident. MiK2 was filmed when the country was on “Red alert level” 🚩 of the Omicron virus new variant and was closed to foreigners.

There is no doubt they really enjoyed the New Zealand experience because GMcT lives there, and GMcT confirmed that Sam's trip to New Zealand was a "well-deserved" holiday. However the strong connection to Scotland was not present and indeed the mirror of Scotland in New Zealand was not shown in MiK2. A trip dedicated to enjoying adventure adrenaline activities, it was a fantastic holiday.

If he misses Scotland and is looking forward to seeing it on screen with Men in Kilts: why a Roadtrip in North America, why not take up the original idea of doing it in Shetland? Or it will continue with an American romance novel construction about Scotland.

So what is the goal of MiK3, or are these two trying to turn MiK3 into something more than a business? 🤷‍♀️ while SH makes a list?

@dlansing53 His mishap was in Scotland, after a training. On that occasion, he didn't mention anything and tried to cover it up. The accident was mentioned months later in an interview in the U.S. he confirmed that he fractured his knee and tore his MCL, as you can seen in the New Zealand’s photos he received stitches and has a large scar on his left leg after the mishap.

Here at Pharos Athletic Club with Pieter Vodden (He’s not in the picture) trainer in the U.S. he’s not his physio. This photo is from before his trip to New Zealand 🇳🇿

@ajrajraj In Britain Motorcycle is a Motorbike or "Bike" 🏍️ and motorcyclists are called "bikers". When SH says "bike" he fell off a motorbike, not a bicycle. The mishap occurred when he was supposedly on his way home from the gym. SH doesn't go to the gym on a bicycle, he goes on a motorbike 🏍️

After his trip to New Zealand 🇳🇿 He mentioned his accident on the GMA show it was posted by @imahalfemptykindofgirl I reblogged her post

and days later he confirmed it in a talk in Men's Journal. if you are interested you can see both published on my blog.

@ajrajraj On 14 December 2021, on Twitter (X) SH posted that he had been in an accident "on a bike". In a conversation with Charles Thorp of Men's Journal, in the article SH says: he was on a bike, not on a bicycle. If you have the interview where he clarifies that he was on a bicycle, I would like to know more about it, because his injuries did not correspond to this situation.

He limps to the gym to pose for a photo to his fans. He plays stupid games and wins stupid prizes.

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