#so I was just about to call them and tell them 'sorry I am kind of in your cellar'
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“Promise”
Just a little thing about Clervie and Arlecchino that lowkey apart my heart thinking about it. Again, very sorry if this is not good!! Am new to writing things down other than in my notes sooo bear with me as I get better pls 😩
Contents: angst, the tiniest mention of self harm. It isn’t graphic, it is mentioned in passing only once, and very vaguely, but thought I’d put a TW anyway🥰
Word count: 2453
Writing under the cut!!:D
At age 9,
Peruere sits in the garden, holding the small box. The lid is open as she places a small lumidouce bell next to the spider. The lumidouce bell will die and wilt underground, but at least the spider won’t be lonely, she thinks.
“Peruere!”
The loud childish voices rings out in the garden once again. A sigh leaves Peruere’s lips. She isn’t in the mood to talk to the person she secretly calls sunshine. Looking down at the splayed out body of her pet spider, her lip quivers. Once, twice, before a tear falls onto the wood of the makeshift coffin. The dread rising in her as she sees her hands changing doesn’t go unnoticed, but she pushes it down. ‘What is that? Why am I changing?’
Her thoughts are interrupted by the sunshine once again, the voice now muffled with chewing.
“I brought cake. Want some?”
Peruere’s now charcoal hands take the cake, pausing as the sunshine (or Clervie, but Peruere prefers sunshine) takes it from her hands and places it on a leaf in front of the small grave.
“You must know spiders don’t eat cake.”
“Yeah, I know! They can’t eat cake here, but in spider world they can.”
Her voice is almost irritating to Peruere, who is only trying to be angsty and sad. But how can she be sad when the sunshine is right there?
“Clervie, I want to sit in silence.”
Clervie can’t help her eyebrows furrowing before she sits down with a small thud.
“I’ll sit with you, then.”
Peruere sighs as her eyes, eyes that are unlike any others in the house of the hearth, glance towards the sunshine. She doesn’t persist. Secretly, she’s glad for the company. Clervie smiles back as she plays with the small patch of lumidouce bells.
“I don’t care that you’re different. I think you’re cool.”
Her eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing before she responds.
“Why? I’m completely different from you.”
“I like that. Even our teddies are different. I think everyone being the same is boring. They won’t be the king because they are all the same. You will be king one day, Peruere. Can I sit with you when you are?”
Peruere feels just a small amount of dread at those words. The words that remind her that one day, she indeed, will have to do what Mother says and fight to be king. Something is off about Mother, she thinks. She is too kind, too caring. She doesn’t like it. Not just because she doesn’t deserve it (that’s what she tells herself in the mirror before she sleeps), but because Clervie, the sunshine, is falling for it. In that moment, she makes a silent vow to protect the sunshine always, even if it is cloudy.
“We can be king together.”
“Do you promise? I don’t want to be left behind.”
“I promise.”
At age 11,
Peruere and Clervie, the sunshine and the moon, sit in a deserted part of the house of the hearth. Their favourite part is the room with the wide window, where they sit and stare at the sky, talking about their dreams. Or rather, Clervie talks, Peruere listens. Though this time, the roles seem to be reversed. Next to them, a tray of medical instruments. Scissors, bandages, gauze, disinfectant. Peruere sits, her blackened, gentle but clumsy hands tying a bow on one of the bandages. The look on Clervie, I mean, the sunshine’s, face was much brighter than ten minutes ago. This is the first of many times, unbeknownst to them. Peruere speaks softly.
“What happened? Your wrists looked like they got hurt.”
“Nothing, Peruere.”
Alarm bells ring in Peruere’s head. Clervie was never this closed off, not with her.
“Did you do this to yourself? Like Céline? She got upset at herself so she hurt herself. I don’t like that, tell me you didn’t do that. It’s dangerous, Clervie.”
Her eyes, shining black, filled with worry. Her hand grabs the sunshine’s, giving it a little squeeze, encouraging her to talk.
“No, that isn’t it. I argued. With Mother. I don’t want to fight everyone to be king. I want to be friends with everyone, I want to eat bulle fruit with everyone. Why do we have to fight?”
“I do not like it either. I want to run away sometimes. Do Mothers always argue with their daughters?”
“I don’t know.”
Clervie’s hands, still trembling from the adrenaline, push open the window. They stare at the stars for a while, before her voice rings out once more, soft, quiet, always optimistic.
“I heard that in Snezhnaya, coloured lights dance in the sky at night. When we grow up, shall we go see it together?”
Peruere wonders if they’ll ever go and see it, or if it’s just another empty promise. Just like how Mother promised her spider wouldn’t die, how the fish she caught wouldn’t be eaten.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
At age 13,
The sun shines. Both the actual sun, and Clervie, Peruere thinks. Her fingers are splayed out on the picnic blanket, the wet paint on her nails shining in the light when her fingers twitch. Painted black, like her skin on her arms, and red, the colour of the lipstick they stole from Mother a few weeks ago, the colour of Clervie’s hair. She makes a noise of satisfaction, secretly looking at Clervie through her fingers. It looks like she’s looking through prison bars, she thinks. But Clervie is the sun. If anyone should be in prison, it’s her, not Clervie. She doesn’t like the way she thinks about Mother, but Mother harms the sunshine. Her sunshine. Her eyes widen, just slightly as she realises that maybe feeling so warm and fuzzy inside whenever she sees Clervie isn’t exactly a usual way to think of people. She doesn’t feel that for anyone else. She stares a bit longer. How the red of Clervie’s hair reminds her of the burning sun. Of the fire in the lounge of the house of the hearth. Fire is good, she thinks. She could protect her sunshine with fire. In a split decision, she takes the red nail polish in one hand, a strand of her white hair in the other. Snow and blood. Blood on snow. Those colours seem to be awfully present in her life as of late, and her heart begins to twist as she thinks of what it means for her future. Before she can think any harder, Clervie’s giggle cuts through her thoughts.
“What are you doing, silly?”
Red paints on the snow coloured hair.
“I’m like you now. I have red hair. That way, we will stay friends forever.”
“I like you too much to leave you, silly. It looks good with your hair. The red. You should paint it every day, and that way, you can—“
Words are cut off by clumsy lips meeting clumsy lips. Only for a second, a second that feels forever. Peruere’s cheeks flush the colour of the painted strand as she mumbles apologetic words.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I-“
“It’s okay. I liked it. I want to do it more. You should still keep the red strand. Promise you will?”
“Yes, I promise.”
At age 16,
Mother has been increasingly cruel, to both her and Clervie. Especially to Clervie. How could someone be so evil to someone so kind is something Peruere cannot fathom. She despises seeing Clervie cry, to hear her quiet sobs at night. Her eyes are always bright, always happy. If not for her own sake, for Peruere’s. But the sun has been hiding lately, hiding behind clouds and avoiding words. The red strand of Peruere’s hair, once painted every day with nail polish to match Clervie’s, now permanently dyed, retouched every eight weeks, hidden under most of her hair to avoid Mother’s wrath. And now? They stand in the field, Clervie, facing Peruere with resigned eyes.
“You know it’s the only way. Mother will kill us both if you are not king. Have you not noticed the children disappearing?”
“I have. It does not mean your life has to end. You cannot take your life—“
“No. That will not satisfy Mother, and you know that. You must do it.”
Hate, fear, dread and sadness twist Peruere’s gut so hard she feels as if she will throw up. She fight the urge to retch at the very suggestion that she dulls the sunshine she has grown to adore so.
“I cannot. I will not. You cannot ask me to do something like that.”
“You must.”
She hates that Clervie is right. She hates that Mother is so twisted and sick that this is the only choice. She begs anyway, something she told herself she would never do.
“Please. We were supposed to go to Snezhnaya together. To see the coloured lights in the sky. There is no ‘we’ without you.”
A chuckle is heard, the familiar chuckle that lights up Peruere’s heart, the chuckle that feels like it’ll reverse her curse entirely. She can’t deny the sadness she hears in it though, especially not when she sees a tear slip down Clervie’s face. The sight brings tears to her own eyes and she looks away, unable to stare at her any longer. The longer she stares, the harder it will be. She knows this, but her eyes move back to her anyway.
“You will look at the coloured lights, and you can trust I will be there in them.”
“No! This is not fair.”
“You know I’m right, Peruere.”
“And I hate that you are. You’re always damn right. Stop that.”
Another chuckle is heard behind tears.
“I plan to.”
“Don’t joke.”
“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry you have to do this.”
Peruere feels like her breath is being sucked out of her, like she can’t inhale enough and yet, exhaling is impossible. Her brain is telling her she has to. She has to give the sunshine a merciful end, lest Mother give her a far worse fate. But her heart is screaming. Tears drip down her face, her body wracked with silent cries. Her hand goes to the hilt of the dagger she always carries.
“But I love you. You are my sunshine.”
“I love you, too. And so I will always be here when the sun is shining. I am not afraid.”
“I am.”
Peruere is not one to be scared. She never has. But now, her hands are clammy, she feels a sweat gathering. She feels her heart thumping in a completely different way than when they share small kisses and giggles. She feels like she’s killing herself instead of her love. The dagger is unsheathed now, the blade glinting with every tremble of her hand. Oh, God, there it is again. That smile, the one that melts Peruere every time. Images flash in her mind of every time she bandages Clervie after an argument with Mother. Images of what could happen should Mother take Clervie’s life into her own hands, and before she can think twice, the dagger has pierced her skin. Clervie’s clothes are staining with blood as red as her hair.
“No. No, no— please. Clervie, you can’t. Why did you tell me to do this?”
Red ‘X’ irises stare into blue ones. A beautiful bluey green, one that Peruere has always admired. Has always adored looking into. Not now. Not while she watches the life drain from her eyes. Watching the sun burn.
“You will make a great king.”
“Stop that.”
Anger boils inside Peruere, anger like she has never felt before. She swears she will kill anyone who threatens to hurt the ones she cares about. She won’t let this happen again.
“I’m sorry. Thank you.”
Clervie’s soft words fill her ears for the final time before her body drops to the floor with a thunk. Peruere stares down at her, anger filling her so greatly, she becomes blank. She decides she will never feel again. She will never love again. The sun was a star, but the sun has burned and died.
“Do you promise you will be with me in Snezhnaya? Promise?”
“..Clervie?”
She is met with only silence, and the sound of the lumidouce bells waving in the wind.
At age 28,
Arlecchino walks through the halls of the House of the Hearth, watching stoically as the children play, as they watch the two children perform their magic show. She calls out, her voice strict, unfeeling.
“Meet in the dining hall when you are finished. Dinner is served shortly.”
Met with a chorus of “Yes Father”, she nods, satisfied, before turning away. Her heels click against the tiled floor as she walks through the halls, her hair flowing in her ponytail behind her. She takes the long route, avoiding the west wing of bedrooms, something she has avoided for many years. Her footfalls come to a stop as the sun hits her as it shines through the window. She feels a tug at her heart, and she clenches her fists tightly before sighing, turning quickly on her heel. She walks with purpose, walking past the many bedrooms until she slows, coming to a stop in front of the bedroom door she has kept locked. The ring of keys in her pocket makes a sound as she pulls them out, and she listens to the way they jingle as she unlocks the door and slips inside. She blinks back heartache as she stares around at the room. It has been well preserved, it looks like it’s still very much lived in by a sixteen year old girl. She goes about, dusting the surfaces in silence, cleaning up any signs that it hasn’t been touched in such a long time. She opens the window, watering the lumidouce bells that sit on the windowsill outside. She stops by the bed, where two teddies sit— one pink with a white ribbon, one black and white with red ‘X’s for eyes. Her hand, now black with darker patterns all over from how far the curse has advanced, softly pets the pink one, swallowing down a shaky breath. Her nails, painted red and black, like they always have been, gives a gentle scratch under the chin.
“Good morning, Clervie. The children are doing well today.”
Her hand slides into her pocket, pulling out a small, gift wrapped box, placing it by the teddy.
“Happy birthday. I told you I would not forget. The sun is shining brightly, and the colours in the sky at night have been vivid lately. You would have found them beautiful, I am sure. I would have loved to look at you as you stared at them in wonder.”
The birthday gift joins another 11 on the bed, each one in different phases of aging. She stands again, smoothing down the bedsheets before placing a small kiss on the pink teddy.
“See you next year, Clervie. I promise.”
#arlecchino hc#arlecchino genshin#arlebina#arlechinno genshin#arlechinno x reader#arlefuri#genshin impact#arle#genshin smut#genshin wlw#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#clervie#peruere#arlecchino smut#genshin impact arlecchino#arlecchino#genshin imagines
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buddie goggles and why you might enjoy wearing them more if you acknowledge them
so yeah, i think the buddie goggles are a real issue. (ive had them too, fellow shippers, no judgment) like, is it possible that buck and eddie will at some point start a deeply fulfilling romantic relationship? yes. is it what's happening on screen right now and what the show is 100% suggesting is imminent? no. sorry, it's just not.
look, the thing with analysing and interpreting any text is that it's very much about finding things that the text is doing, what could be there, looking at it from different angles and choosing to focus on certain aspects: that's why you have feminist readings of X and queer readings of Y, etc
but if you go looking at a text with the intention of looking for authorial intent and secret messages the author is leaving that only you and the fandom can pick up on correctly? that's such a slippery, tricky slope.
consider:
simply communicating ideas face to face to one single other person can often end in misunderstandings
communicating ideas in writing?... well, we live in the pissing on the poor era of the internet, don't we.
like, how many times have you read/written something, looked at the comments and gone: but...that's not what's there? like, interesting that you see it, but also, i don't know where you got that from
see where I'm going with this?
there is so much that goes into the making of a tv show besides the script and actors' delivery that i am absolutely not an expert on: costumes, set dressing, blocking, lighting, editing, soundtrack...
taking any of those aspects and analysing it and looking for connections is my favourite thing to do and read about and...
ngl, watching the show and looking for buddie in all of them is so much fun. i love it, it's what got me into 911 in the first place.
but i promise you, the moment you stop acknowledging that that's what you're doing, that what you're doing is a Buddie reading of 911, and instead proclaim it as the one single truth? that's when you set yourself up for a wild and not always pleasant ride.
and this isn't about having or not having faith in the writers or buddie or the one they call tim, and honestly, it's kind of telling that the word "faith" is used so often.
it's about accepting that while watching a tv show, we're all putting ourselves in a position of observing the shadows of plato's cave with binoculars on a low-visibility day. (ok. that's a really pretentious twatty thing to say, but i'll leave it there because i think the image is funny. ) and no amount of media literacy is going to give you a clear insight into the minds and intentions of all of the people creating the show (can we please stop shouting at people to get "media literacy" if they disagree with our interpretation of a text, even if what they're saying sounds dumb)
now, i don't know if yall were here for the TJLC thing back then, and I am absolutely not saying that what the Sherlock show did and what 911 is doing is in any shape or form similar, however, on tumblr and amongst the fandom, the lead-up to season 4 and then the secret fourth episode fallout felt exactly like what some parts of the 911 fandom are doing now. so... just take care, friends. and don't be dicks to people who disagree with you over a ship.
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It's important to me as my primary cr1 mutuals that you know that She's Always A Woman is THE Perc'ahlia song out there for me, the associations are so strong for me now (also I Know Places)
okokokokok so I FINALLY got a chance to sit down and listen and had a nice lil cry over how stupidly DEAR AND SWEET THIS SONG IS. She can lead you to love????? She is frequently kind / and she's suddenly cruel???? She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be?????
SCREAMS!!! What a perfect and gentle way to sum up all the contradictions of who Vex is!! And the steady constant way that Perce sees her. There is something so unbearably affectionate and loving about the tone of this song that's so!!!!! much to me and I'm so grateful. Your mind ma'am Grace darling!!!
I Know Places is also an equally sweet song for Vex's side, it gives me all the Briarwoods arc feelings! There is indeed something very very very lovely about someone who will take your hand and run away with you when you are going through the lowest patch of your life and finds a way for you to still be yourself through it all.
#(my personal T + percahlia song is call it what you want because i am in my heart a percy girl)#(and it contains the one image that is most important to me--#that vex meets him where he is with his curse and everything and loves him with it anyway#and waits for him to come out of it and makes it a world that will envelop him when he does#and that's what ''he built a fire just to keep me warm'' makes me think about#(i know that tal made percy to be a kind of cautionary tale about how going towards your worst impulses eventually poisons you#but instead he became a story about how when you're really loved you can be pulled back from the brink#even when you see nothing but death in your future there's still so much life to live#and you can remember how to want it too#and that's!!! a lot to me. sorry that this became this long thing but you know!!!)#sending you all my love tonight gracie darling girl 💖💕💖💖#i DO still need to read the scarlet pimpernel again and write up some parallels!!! i've been meaning to do it all year#since you drew that line between them for me! but alas. my analysis brain has been shut off!#i still want to though!! i haven't forgotten and am holding it close to think about it for a while! bless you for telling me!!#ask#cr1#friends tag
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Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.
Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.
After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.
Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).
They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.
I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.
The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.
Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.
What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!
I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”
My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.
“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”
I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.
“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”
Reader, Betty’s bathroom.
Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.
These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.
But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.
By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.
“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.
After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”
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mini skirt | theodore nott
pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 3.5k
genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am
smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing
summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.
Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.
There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"
Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."
"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"
He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"
You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.
"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."
And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"
"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.
Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."
"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."
His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.
But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.
You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"
His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."
You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."
"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.
"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"
Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."
You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."
"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."
There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"
"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."
It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.
Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.
"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"
"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.
Fuck, Blaise was not lying.
In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"
"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."
It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"
"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."
His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.
He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.
He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"
You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"
And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."
"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."
His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."
Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.
It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.
"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"
Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"
You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"
You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"
Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”
“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”
Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”
Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."
You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.
"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.
Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.
Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."
"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"
"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."
"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.
You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.
His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.
Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.
Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."
Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."
And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.
"Hey, I liked those!"
"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."
"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."
You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."
"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."
" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."
"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."
" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."
Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.
"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."
The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."
You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”
“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."
And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”
“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”
“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.
"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"
You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"
“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”
You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"
"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."
Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.
Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.
Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"
Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"
"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."
"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.
"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."
Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."
"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.
"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.
"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"
"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."
"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"
Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.
"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."
Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"
— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott smut#theodore nott imagines#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fanfic#theo nott smut#🧳: my writing#Spotify
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
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(Gif pulled from google)
You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”
“Good.”
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.
Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”
“Oh? How so?”
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”
“We’re doing our best.”
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”
You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.
Tattoos.
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.
He has a point.
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.
“It’s his fault.” You murmur.
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours.
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”
“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”
You nod. “Ozone.”
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.
“Why not?” She asks.
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.
That word again.
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”
You nod. “Thank you.”
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.
Ask for one thing that you want.
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.
You could ask for something that’s not material.
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.
You can want this.
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.
You want this.
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”
You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.
This isn’t a want.
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.
“Come in.”
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?��� He asks, his voice low and rough.
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.
The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.
You’re going to be the death of him.
Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#alpha beta omega#a/b/o#john price x reader#captain price x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#ghost x soap#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader
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I'm so over people making their problems someone else's problem. Listen buddy, you got issues, you take care of it. Don't make everyone else around you do it. Figure it out cause everyone else has to do that too <3
#ignore me#today has been a shit day and honestly i cant handle people anymore#we're not in the us you can get a diagnosis i do not care how hard it is or how much you struggle with asking for help#i do not care in the slightest. everyone else struggles with something so figure it out#but it is not my job to keep nursing feelies or doing double the work cause you just don't wanna be bothered with it#i hate this kind of thinking#i hate people who dont take responsibility for shit they do#first my dumb job fucks up and i have to wander threee hours in the cold just to find out that the kid isnt even at school#like you couldn have done one fucking phone call??? and then they say I'm so sorry it went like that???? what do you mean??? it didnt go#like that.. this was fully within your control and you fucked up AGAIN at least dont pretend otherwise#then my family as always messes up telling me stuff on time and planning anything in the slightest bit#like i do not give a fuck i gave you a week to figure out an approximate time slot.. i know it might be surprising but i am also a grown up#with responsibilities and i need to know if I'm gonna get home in the evening or not and how much waiting time i have cause then i might be#able to get some stuff done. i explained this a hundred times. i do not care. figure it out. its not my problem and honestly fuck off#if you need help go to the doctor you pay insurance for. it's not my fault you decide not to do anything about your issues#and my boyfriend has not been doing shit this week. i had to do the household alone again.#get a diagnosis or fix your behavior but its been years and I'm over it#we kicked out two people exactly for that kind of behavior and now you do the same???#do i look like your mom?? do you think I'll care??? if i have to keep asking you to do stuff for more than four months and you STILL dont#do them cause apparently you have the attention span of a fish and cant be bothered to put work into it it is not my problem#i dont care. potential adhd or depression are not a free out of jail card. figure it out. i had to do it too#i hate people so much#also what the fuck is wrong with people flirting on the job??? thats unprofessional and i do not care of youre cute. youre working#if i wanted to fucking get hit on i would go to the club or on dating sites not to the fucking bus driver#what the hell is wrong with people today????
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
#ghostedcas#casper writes#casper's 💌#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x reader fluff#ghost riley x reader
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Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.
See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.
The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.
Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!
The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.
The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.
I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.
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dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party
a small follow up from this !
|
there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.
you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.
one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.
no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?
until now.
you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,
and boy, does he look so hot doing it.
he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream
dear god, please do not make me wet tonight
“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”
toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”
“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,
“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,
“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,
“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”
you nod. “mhmm!”
“you like it?”
“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”
“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”
“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”
he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”
“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,
toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,
40..?
oh…
a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”
“how old did you think i am?”
“hmm, 27?”
he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”
god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,
“are you single?”
he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”
giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”
toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.
you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.
“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”
“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”
he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”
he’s got a kid?! holyshit,
“how old is he?”
“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”
“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”
“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”
hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”
toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”
you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”
his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,
“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”
you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”
“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”
slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”
but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”
a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,
he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”
“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,
“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,
when was the last time someone called you that?
throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—
you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.
despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.
you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,
really fucking gorgeous.
toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,
god, your pink. glossy . lips.
“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”
you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”
“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”
nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”
“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,
your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”
he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,
“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel
“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”
no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.
“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,
you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.
you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”
“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,
you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,
you really can’t wait to see him again
—
next part, first date?👀
a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3
taglist:
@fushipurro
@crocodilethesir
@chilichopsticks
@trentknd
@tojis-ball-sack
@hellokittyloverrxox
@xavlyzn
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro blurbs#toji fushiguro fluff#dilf!toji
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well, i'm still in love with you !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.
or
for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘
warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)
author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 1,725,819 others
yourusername he's in my head so much i might as well just give him some
11,628 comments
username HOLD UP
username im shaking in my big girl boots rn what the Fuck
username y/n ?????
username SCREECHING
username roman empire or roman empire
username IM DYING OH MY GOD
landonorris just because you can type something doesn't mean you SHOULD
-> yourusername shut up u literally sprouted like an unwanted weed and not even the good kind
-> yourusername i am sorry that was mean
-> landonorris 😕
-> username someone keep these two away from each other before y/n makes lando cry 😭
username live love laugh y/n y/l/n
username i need cameras recording their whole vacation !!!!!!!!!
username this whole holiday will be so much more entertaining than 90% of all the tv shows out there 😭😭
username lord i pray that this is about charles
maxverstappen1 you didn't hear it from me but he's giggling
-> yourusername tell him to stop giggling and help me chase those seagulls away
-> landonorris LEAVE MY SEAGULLS ALONE
-> yourusername THEY ATE MY SANDWICH
username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️
username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like
username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing
-> yourusername actually they're all dumb
-> maxverstappen1 excuse you
-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"
-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET
-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷
username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint
username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄
username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!
charles_leclerc i bet u think about me
-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause
-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation
-> username please never change
charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!
-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur
-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD
-> yourusername skill issue
charles_leclerc where r u
-> yourusername why r u typing like that
-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool
-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him
-> landonorris why am i catching strays
username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others
charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love
12,628 comments
username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN
username OH ??????
username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣
username y/n effect is so real
username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭
-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭
-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation
-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING
-> yourusername how do U know that tf
-> username i missed this
username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...
username crying this is everything i've prayed for
username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭
-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake
-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake
-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞
username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it
username max and lando we trust u
maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water
-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons
-> maxverstappen1 well
username crying i love every second of this
username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like
-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE
username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u
username need me a man who posts like this
yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap
-> charles_leclerc highkey
yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad
-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety
-> yourusername hilarious
-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour
-> yourusername OMGGGGG
yourusername we might just get away with this
-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice
-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess
username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)
tagged charles_leclerc
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others
charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)
tagged yourusername
12,728 comments
username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT
username PLEASE OMG
username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him
username god heard my prayers
username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME
-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.
-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."
-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)
-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS
username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️
username WAR IS OVERRRRR
username they're BACK god bless
username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr
-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind
-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.
-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me
-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc
-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to
-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour
username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah
username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING
username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭
username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris
yourusername i look so good wtfff
-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
yourusername bébé ( baby )
-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )
yourusername soulmates 4 sure
-> charles_leclerc 👍
-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier
-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭
yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone
-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
-> username y/n never leave him again please
-> username my man's TRAUMATISED
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x y/n
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Part 4 of Mafia!Price
There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
—
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#oddly wholesome for a mafia au#mafia!au#mafia boss price#assistant reader
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list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3
Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK
Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just
GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT
annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve
ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed
uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………
When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH
the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way
like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too
ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff
i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there
all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end
ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good
When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy
them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me
when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that
also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance
also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that
I AM IMPERTINENT
Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those
but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways
10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.
#Pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#Annabeth chase#the lightning thief#Grover underwood#percy jackson spoilers
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You went to bed before Kiyoomi.
You never do that. Ever since you’ve moved in with him, your nights end with a massive pile of cuddling limbs and sweet words of sticky nothings that have you cocooned and ready for a peaceful night.
But tonight, he snapped at you. Something about being too “irate” over “something small.”
He missed dinner. And normally, that wouldn’t be a massive issue for you. But he was with asshole of a PR member who’s been trying to get with him for months, calling themselves his “work babe.” Who were you to think nothing funny wasn’t going down?
It's not a lack of trust from Kiyoomi that has you choked up. It's a lack of trust with them.
You know more than anyone when kindness turns to love, it's the same thing that happened between you both, and it kills you to think they could preform the same spell and potentially take your man from you.
You tell yourself that if they can take him, they can have him.
But the idea hurts none the less.
It hurts enough where you're curled up on your side of the bed, far from Kiyoomi's, where his smell lingers and the coldness on your body isn't offset by his warmth like it usually is. You whimper and bury your face in the meat of your pillow when you hear the front door open, and a soft call of your name follows. You didn't even know he left, to be frank, but you don't say anything as he stalks into the bedroom with another call of your name.
"Are you awake?"
"Am now," you murmur.
"Can we please talk about things?" He sounds desperate, like he knows this is killing you, weighing you down like a sac of bricks and keeping you from him.
"You talk," you say, nodding into your pillow. "I have nothing to say."
"Okay. I understand."
A muscular arm reaches over your frame to reach for your hand, and when you don't put up a fight to keep his hand away, he sighs shakily.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, linking his pinkie finger with yours. You screw your eyes shut and sniffle, and you hear him swallow thickly. “I was just so upset to know that you were right to worry-“
“What?”
“Wait- No!” He says quickly, panic in his voice. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant.” He’s never been good with his words. You let him continue, your heart sinking into your stomach all the same. He sighs shakily, “I meant that you were right about me being here. I should’ve been. We haven’t had dinner together in weeks, and I just… I got so caught up in new sponsorships and gigs that I wanted more, and I thought they had more to give.”
“They want you, Kiyoomi,” you mumble. “I see it. It’s the same way I bugged you when we first started dating, just to show how much I liked you. They’re doing that.”
“I know,” he sighs. Then, he pauses, squeezing your pinky, “I went to talk to them. Told them if they couldn't keep it professional and cut the shit, they can search for other clients. Because I don't want them making either of us uncomfortable anymore. And even if they did want me, I don't care.” He crawls over to you and bends slightly to have his head dangling in front of you, curls flipping upside down at the action. “Because I want you.”
You snort at the sight.
“So can we please cuddle, and you grab my teeth or sniff me or whatever feral thing you usually do?” He asks, leaning forward to kiss you on the nose. “Miss your stupid affections.”
“I miss giving them to you,” you say, moving a finger up slowly to try and pick his nose, just to make him squirm, a sign of a truce. He grunts and whips his head back, letting your laughter fill the room, rather than your tears. When you feel him sit back on his side of the bed, you take your time in flipping over, finally meeting his dark eyes again, filled with hope and adoration that has you falling in love with him all over again.
"You are irresistible," you say, reaching for his hand again.
"Don't care. I don't want anyone looking at me if it means you and I never fight again."
You laugh and gently kiss his hand, flicking your gaze up at him, "we'll go look at paper bags for you to wear this weekend."
He removes his hand from yours to gently cup your cheek, thumb stroking over the swells lovingly.
"It's a date."
#IF HE WONT WEAR A BAG ON HIS HEAD ION WANT HIM#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi angst#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader angst#sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff#sakusa kiyoomi imagine#sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu#sakusa#sakusa fluff#sakusa angst#sakusa x reader#sakusa x gn!reader#sakusa x reader angst#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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141 + los vaqueros + könig with an s/o who is kind of naive and innocent being called dumb?? Just how they would react and comfort their s/o <33 thank you lovely!!!!
I love big strong men standing up for their sweet little s/o 😭
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
You gotta have some kinda death wish
I can’t imagine him getting violent off whip, his main concern would be removing you from the situation and providing comfort
However, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t memorized who that person is, their face, their voice, their tone, their words
And that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t track them down later and give them a piece of his mind
Before he does that, his concern is you, he’s got your favorite show playing and he’s telling you it’s not worth thinking about what they said, he wishes he can take his own advice but when you’re curled up against his chest sniffling with a quivering lip, he’s imagining how satisfying it would be to run his fist through their face
Once you’ve fallen asleep, he’s tracking them down and when he finds them, in seconds he’s gripping the front of their shirt, lifting them slightly, their back bruising against the wall he’s pushing them against
“If I ever hear your voice again, I’ll crush your fuckin’ throat, am I clear?”
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
He loves your sweet, good natured spirit, it gives him such genuine joy
He’s the only one that can poke fun at you because he’s not being malicious about it, it comes from a place of love and endearment
So when he sees a recruit making fun of you for it, he kinda loses it a little bit
Just like Ghost, his main concern is removing you from that situation but at the same time he’s pissed
So he’s wedging himself between you two with a strong emphasis on the person bringing you down, his chest is all puffed up, shoulders square, and he’s got the angriest look in his eyes
“Care to repeat what you said?”
He might not be as scary or intimidating as Ghost but that doesn’t mean that his strength is just for show either
The recruit backs away almost immediately but doesn’t get very far before Johnny grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back
“The next time I catch you even looking at them, you’ll be so fucking sorry.” The poison in his words thickening his accent in his throat and the poor idiot was tripping over his feet trying to get away
In seconds, Johnny turned to face you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed his lips to your forehead
“C’mon darlin, let’s get somethin’ sweet for my sweet somethin’.” He teased with a wink and a bump of his hips against yours
John Price:
He loves your innocence honestly, it’s so refreshing for him
Like the first drink of ice water after spending a day in the desert heat, it soothes him as much as it concerns him
He teases you about it both out of love and genuine concern, he’s not always around and it worries him how innocent and kind you are
And then while you’re all out getting drinks and wrapping up a hard day’s work, he sees you getting picked on, he sees your shoulders slump ever so slightly and he crossed the room in seconds
Honestly? He doesn’t even have to say anything, his body language, his demeanor, the vicious look in his eyes, all speak volumes to how bad this guy fucked up
He stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder and whispering loving words in your ear, you’re a little confused as you walk back to the group, looking over your shoulder, not thinking to look in front of you (luckily Johnny gets hold of you before you walk into someone)
You can’t hear what he’s saying but you get the sense it’s pretty bad considering the guy loses all color in his face and sweat starts to bead on his brow
You wave at John with a smile as he walks back to you, he gathers you in his arms and pulls you in for a kiss
An offer of home and comfort shortly followed
How could you possibly refuse?
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
Oh honey he’s poking fun at you very often, but always out of love, he loves your naivety and will often use it to tease you
He loves seeing you get all worked up, cheeks puffed up and an embarrassed blush on your cheeks when he calls you out on it, it warms his heart as much as it makes him wanna give you big ol’ smooch
However
He’s the only one allowed to do it
So when he sees one of the cadets try to pull one over you the way he does, but in a much meaner fashion that has embarrassed tears welling in your eyes, he sees red
He’s at your side in a matter of seconds, chest pushing against the other guy as he backs him away from you, he’s so angry he doesn’t know what to say, barely manages to put a filter on his words
“Think you’re so fuckin’ funny do ya? Makin’ ‘em upset, who the fuck do ya think you are?”
John has to step in and get between the two men, knowing full well how it’ll end, he physically turns Kyle around to face you and gives him a shove in your direction
Kyle takes your hand and walks away, grumbling all the while about how he should’ve punched the fuckers lights out, but when you lean into his side as you’re walking along, the anger starts to simmer and fade
It won’t be long before he’s mumbling an apology to you for how he reacted, just give him a kiss and he’ll be back to his normal self
König:
I mean… you gotta be some kinda stupid to mess with his s/o in any capacity, like have you seen him???
He’s never far from you, always in your peripheral or at your side, touching you in some way, it’s soothing for him to be around you and he knows you feel the same
So when he hears someone snap at you and call you dumb, he bites his cheek so hard he tasted blood
Without hesitation he pulled you away and behind him as he stood up at full height, glaring daggers at the man through the holes of his hood
He doesn’t even have to say anything, the angry rise and fall of his chest, the cold fury in his eyes, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides are all indicators enough of his rage
The man couldn’t apologize and scramble away quick enough, tripping over a chair as he tried to make a hasty escape
König was frozen in place, so god damn angry that he couldn’t move, it took your small voice quietly calling his name for him to snap out of it, he turned to face you and gently took your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your knuckles
You smiled softly at him, even if he wasn’t looking directly at you, his eyes pinned to your hand in his, you gave it a gentle squeeze and he finally looked up at you
The adoration in your eyes enough to melt the fury and bring him back to himself, “Let’s go, schatz, you said you were hungry, yes?”
“A while ago, yeah.”
“Then let’s go remedy that.”
Alejandro Vargas:
Alejandro loves with his entire being, he’s so steadfast in his love that any slight against you, is a slight against him
“What the fuck did you say cabron?”
He’s up in arms almost immediately, hackles raised, nostrils flaring, fists clenched at his side and ready to swing
“Alejo, please, it’s fine.” He knew it wasn’t fine, he knew you wanted to put in a brave face but he didn’t miss the way your eyes watered or the way your jaw tensed when the insult was hurled at you
“No, amor, let him repeat himself. See if he’s man enough to say it again.”
He’s seeing red at this point, his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s ready to knock out the bastard
When he sees that the man is wide eyed, panicked, and stuttering out apologies, trying to gain some semblance of spine as he tries to make a hasty retreat, he backs off and moves closer to you
“Más le vale, cabron.” (Loose translation: that’s what I thought)
He’s got his arm around you and he’s walking you both away from scene,
“You didn’t have to do that, Ale.”
“What are you talking about, amor, of course I did. If you’re wounded, then so am I.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You teased with a small peck to his jaw, he chuckled and rested his head on yours as you both made your way home
Rodolfo Parra:
He’s too good for this world tbh he doesn’t give that idiot a second glance as he’s walking you away from him
He’s kissing your temple and shooting a glare over his shoulder, a promise of retribution in his eyes
“Don’t listen to them, mi vida.”
He’s nothing if not reassuring and comforting, he’s holding your hand and lovingly stroking it with his thumb
As he’s giving you a hug and kissing the top of your head, he’s thinking of all the ways he can wring the new recruit’s neck tomorrow
But that won’t stop him from spoiling you a little bit to cheer you up
Even if you’re insisting that you’re well over it and have moved past it, he’s just as insistent in getting your favorite food, watching your favorite movies
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#konig x reader#könig x reader#alejandro x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo rudy parra x reader#rodolfo x reader#rodolfo parra x reader#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod headcanons
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do you want a compliment?
reblog this!(no more asks or comments! I’ll ofc still compliment the people who commented and sent me asks but afterwards I will turn off commenting! Asks will be ignored if it’s for a compliment. I’m doing this because it’s way more clear that way) . You WILL get a compliment. A genuine one. I’ll tell you what I like about your page. 100% honest. I will compliment everyone who reblogs this SO YEAH!! I’ll give everyone a compliment, but because they’re genuine and it takes a bit of time writing them, you won’t get one immediately. Might take a month +. So sorry for that:( you will get one tho!!
I AM A MINOR NSFW BLOGS (DOESNT MATTER WHAT KIND) DNI! I MEAN IT YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!)
THIS AWESOME PERSON CALLED: @thezeepleglobe IS KIND ENOUGH TO HELP ME❤️ they will be complimenting you guys too, so if you get complimented by them, don’t worry:3
Click on this for an explanation as to why it might take literally months for you to get a compliment!
due to the high amount of notes this got(holy shit Tysm!!) it could take months until you get your compliment. I am so so so so sorry for that!!! There’s just a lot and it’s overwhelming me like A LOT!! Like I think I don’t even have 20 people done yet and there’s like 350!!!!!!x-x and it just gets more more and more
Looking at a blog, finding things I like about a person, thinking about it and then writing down the compliment is REALLY REALLY time consuming!!
And some blogs are like with almost no stuff at all so it’s super duper hard
I am really really really trying my best!!!
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