#if i can just have some time alone in the living room at 2am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainfern · 11 months

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this is a request but i accidentally deleted it 😭

“hi babes. ur work is amazing but im sure you know this. im also sure you have lots of requests so please take your time getting to this one. but I was wonderingggg if you could do one where price is the friend of the readers dad? they've been hooking up in secret for a while but at a little house party, they sneak into someplace private and do the deed. ive seen so many other ffs about this with other characters so ikkkk price would fit this. thank you again <33”

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Marigold

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price is your dads best friend. he asks you to meet him upstairs during a party. you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship? kinda?, unprotected piv, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], fingering, recording [consensual], oral [f!receiving], praise, strong language

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You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the fabric, smoothing the wrinkles, smiling at yourself. You looked fucking good.

Downstairs, a big neighbourhood party was in full swing— something organised by your father. It was a comfortable get together to unwind before the summer holidays, complete with all of your neighbours from down the street, and even across the block.

The dress you were wearing was new. You brought it recently, actually. You liked to convince yourself you got it because you were treating yourself, but in reality, it may or may not have been a 2am online purchase after a considerable emotional breakdown. But hey, same thing, right?

It was shorter than you thought, mid-thigh, if that. The colour was pretty too, your favourite. It complimented the complexion of your skin, accentuating your figure, showing off a significant amount of leg. You smiled at yourself, doing a quick twirl.

Hot as fuck.

The party was bustling. You had arrived home late, apologising profusely to your dad before rushing upstairs to get ready. So, over the gentle thrum of the music, you weren't surprised to hear your dad call your name, hurrying you to come and greet the guests.

You bounded down the stairs, dress fluttering against your thighs, and made your way into the kitchen. You tried not to feel awkward when copious pairs of eyes turned to look at you as you shuffled towards your dad. He put an arm around your shoulders, holding you to his side for a moment, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

"There you are. Come say hi to everyone."

You did. Humming along to the music as you went, you individually greeted each of the guests. You plastered on your best people-pleasing smile, responding cheerily to the same fifty fucking questions everyone asked you.

How are you? How is work? Have you figured out what you want to do? Any plans for the future? Met anyone special?

By the time you made it to the edge of your living room towards the other side of the house, you felt a headache coming on. So, you excused yourself back into the kitchen to get a large glass of water. Your father was just departing, leading the congregation of neighbours outside. By the smell of it, someone was on the barbecue.

You were left, alone, in the kitchen, nursing a cold glass of water, listening to the music you were skeptical your dad had actually chosen. There were some good songs, surprisingly.

You placed your glass away as your dad walked in, heading for the sink. He wriggled in next to you, rinsing his hands under the water.

"You okay, honey?"

You nodded. "I'm fine."

He smiled at you, drying his hands on a towel nearby. As he did that, the doorbell rung, echoing through the house, just audible over the music.

"Oh, can you get that? I just need to take these outside..." Your dad said, scooping a couple of extra wine bottles off the counter and heading outside.

You walked through the house, heading to the front door. You opened it with a polite smile spread across your features. It drooped slightly, catching sight of the man on your front porch.

"Captain Price." It was meant to be a greeting, but it sounded more as if you were stating a fact.

He offered you a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He had a bottle of whiskey tucked beneath his arm.

"You just never want to call me by my first name, do you, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you stepped to the side, allowing him entrance.

You blinked after his form— strong, hulking shoulders, a lean abdomen paired with a slight narrow in his waist— as he meandered into the entrance hall.

"John makes you sound old." You quipped as you followed him into the kitchen.

He laughed. "I am old."

"Not that old." You said.

It was somewhat true. He was a similar age to your father, and they were best friends. They'd been in the military together before your dad retired to have a family. Price had always checked in on him, especially when he had time off work. You had known him for a while. Met him a couple of times when you were really young— not that you could remember, anyway— and then you saw him a bit more frequently as you got older. You hadn't seen him for a while up until today. Captain John Price is a busy man.

You felt your body begin to heat up once the pair of you were in the kitchen.

Well, the last time you saw him was a couple of weeks ago, before he was set to be deployed to some foreign country—

"That's it, thaaaat's it, don't talk sweetheart, just take it," Price whispered in your ear, chest pressed to your back. "Don't talk. Just take my cock, there you go. Take it, love. Doing so good for me."

He had you bent over his kitchen counter, his house dark around you, the early hours of the morning apparent by the inky black sky visible out of his windows.

You couldn't talk, even if you tried. You had been trying to whimper to him, moan his name and his rank and tell him what you wanted, but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth. He had left you speechless with the way he continuously hit that spongey spot inside you, making you tighten and gush around him.

Bodies flush together, sweat accumulating between you. Your skin was on fire, hands and tits flush with the cool countertop as he fucked his cock into you, harder and harder, your knees smacking the underside cabinetry. His grip on your hips was vice-like, keeping you steady, his pelvis smacking into your arse.

"S'this my going away present, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you choked on another string of moans caught in your throat. "Fucking perfect. I better get another one once I'm back, yeah?"

You nodded deliriously, finding your voice. "Yes, Price, fuck, I promise, I promise—"

Price cleared his throat, snapping you out of your little flash back. He leaned against the kitchen island, hip bracing against it, having placed the bottle of whiskey down. He folded his arms across his broad chest, arms looking especially good in his black jacket.

"Your dad around?" He asked.

You nodded towards the backyard. "Yeah, he's outside. Did you want me to go get h—?"

You were cut off as Price grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, pressing your body to his. Quickly, he cupped your jaw and placed his mouth to yours, backing your lower back up against the counter. You had your hands against his chest as his tongue slipped into your mouth, one hand on your jaw and the other balled at your hip. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his knuckles, still keeping his fingers tucked into a fist.

Just as you whined into the kiss, your hands travelling upwards, Price stepped back. Commotion outside drew him right across the kitchen as the back door opened and your father came in. You discreetly wiped your face. So did Price.

That was unexpected.

Your dads eyes lit up when he saw Price, and Price smiled at him.

"John! Didn't think you'd make it!" Your dad beamed, pulling Price into a hug.

Price slapped your dad a couple of times on the back before they released each other.

"I flew in last night," Price admitted. "I won't stay long. Just thought I'd pop in and say hi. Oh, I also brought this."

Casually, Price stepped past you and grabbed the bottle of whiskey off of the counter behind you. You breathed in his cologne as he passed the bottle to your dad. You had to force yourself not to close your eyes and whine.

"Jesus, mate, this is an expensive bottle. You shouldn't have."

"No worries, mate. Enjoy it." Price replied.

Your dad turned to you, showing you the bottle, and you had to pretend like it was the coolest thing ever, since your dad seemed absolutely ecstatic.

"You see this, honey? This is good stuff."

"Oh, I bet." You said.

Your dad turned to put the whiskey in a cabinet nearby. When he turned back around, he let his eyes fall on to you, and his gaze softened, a small smile still evident on his face.

"I didn't say earlier, but that's a really nice dress. Nice colour, too. You look beautiful." Your dad said.

You felt your lips quirk at the edges as you hid a bashful smile. "Oh, thanks."

Your dad nudged Price. "It's a nice colour, don't you reckon, John? Reminds me of our deployment in Damascus. Remember? That nice lady selling all those shawls..."

You could tell Price wasn't really listening to your dads military-era story. His eyes were on you. It felt like he was absorbing you whole. Eyes darkening, raking up and down your body, admiring both the dress and the way it clung to you. The pinpoint of his tongue darted across his lips as his gaze travelled upwards from your legs, resting now on your face. You cocked your head at him, ever so slightly, biting your bottom lip for a second. He followed the movement, blinking and looking away, clearing his throat as his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink.

"Yeah, nice colour. Suits you." He grumbled.

After a moment, your dad led Price outside and you watched them go. Your body thrummed in time with the music, buzzing from where Price had touched you just mere minutes ago. You felt warm.

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An hour or so later, the congregation of people had moved back inside, happy and full after the food outside. Darkness had fallen now, music still loud and just slightly vibrating the drinks resting on the counter in front of you.

You were talking with your neighbour, a girl just a few years older than you, who you had known for quite some time. The conversation was actually nice, and you found yourself enjoying it. Until she had to leave, and you were once again left standing alone in the kitchen. Until, of course, Price sidled up beside you, still a respectable distance away.

"Meet me upstairs. Give it a minute, though." Was all he said before he vanished from the room.

No greeting, or small talk. Straight to the fucking point, clearly.

You downed the rest of your drink, letting a good long couple of minutes pass before you decided to head up the stairs. As you ascended, you looked around, seeing no one paying you much attention. Your dad was on the couch, telling a good dozen people one of his usual thrilling stories of his time in the military. You smiled to yourself as you reached the top of the stairs.

You made your way into your bedroom, humming to yourself. You didn't see Price straight away, so you flinched when he slammed the door closed behind you, jamming your desk chair beneath it to keep it locked— it was an old house, with no locks on the bedroom doors— and striding across the room.

You had no time to react as he put a hand to the back of your neck, holding gently but firmly, and pressing your mouth to his. You whined desperately, folding your arms along his shoulders and carding your fingers into his hair, knocking his woollen hat off. He wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth, smoothing it against yours, drawing soft noises from your throat.

He walked you backwards until you both fell against the bed, him overtop of you. He didn't once break the kiss, even when he used one hand to pry your legs apart, forcing them to hook around his hips as he pushed you further onto the bed, crawling after you.

"Missed you." You whispered, pleasure straining each syllable. He had broken away from your mouth, kissing along the curve of your jaw and down the expanse of your throat. He nipped at the soft skin of your neck, licking along your collarbone, still heading southward. He got to the neckline of your dress, pressed taut to the swell of your breasts, rising rapidly as you breathed. He ran kisses along the soft flesh, running his hands up and down your waist, revelling in the softness of the fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath.

"Such a pretty fucking dress," He muttered, teeth skimming the line of the fabric. "Took everything in me not to flip it up and fuck you in it... right there in that kitchen."

He yanked it down, letting your tits spill out before him. With a soft grumble in his throat, he pressed his mouth to your left one, drawing your nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. He looked up at you whilst he did it, admiring the way your eyes fluttered, struggling to maintain eye contact as the pleasure built.

After a moment, he released it with a slick pop and moved to your right tit, mimicking his earlier actions. You moaned his name, gripping his hair, massaging his scalp. He groaned, mouth wet and hot against your delicate flesh. His hands had moved now— one running up to cup and massage your tits as he sucked, and the other travelling down the length of your body.

Your body hummed in anticipation, tingling as he gently flipped the bottom of your dress up, exposing your underwear. Still sucking kisses onto the mounds of your breasts, he dipped his hand past the hem of your underwear. Two fingers made contact with your slick core, and you arched further into his mouth, moaning loudly.

"Fuck me, you're soaked," Price grunted, releasing your swollen nipple and sitting back on his haunches.

Impatiently, he yanked his hand out of your underwear and ripped them away, the cotton snapping against your thighs, breaking with a loud tear. You whimpered as Price stuffed the material into his jacket pocket, swiftly pushing his fingers back towards your core.

They ran up and down your slit, collecting the excess arousal that was drooling from your cunt. He slowly dragged the digits through your folds a couple of times before he pressed the tips to your clit, drawing tight circles. You gasped, arching for him, moaning his rank as he replaced the two fingers with his thumb. His two fingers were immediately at your dripping entrance, circling.

"So wet, sweetheart. Absolutely dripping," He mused. "What's got you all wet and needy?”

You mewled at him, sensation-overload and he had barely started. Your tits were slick with his saliva, cold in the air of your room. He was still circling your clit, your arousal making his movements audible if you listened hard enough. The music downstairs was dull and echoey, as if you were underwater. Then, his two fingers, the tips barely grazing your soaking hole. You could scream.

"Eh, sweetheart? What's got you soaking your pretty little underwear, hm?" Price asked, still giving your clit attention.

"You." You whine.

"Me?" Price chuckled. "What about me?"

'You're... you're making me wet, Price," you almost sob. "Need you so bad. I missed you."

Price liked that answer, clearly. He pushed two fingers into your cunt, letting out a breathy moan as your silky walls clamped around the digits. You keened, whimpering like some kind of wounded animal as he buried his fingers to the knuckle before dragging them all the way back out. He plunged them in again, and a pace began, almost in time with the base of whatever song was playing downstairs.

"This my welcome home present?" He asked, shoving his fingers repeatedly into your tight cunt, wet sounds reverberating around your bedroom.

You nodded. "Yeah. M-missed you—"

Your lower stomach was tingling, coiling tight. Already? Fucking hell.

"Missed you too, sweetheart," Price leaned up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "Couldn't get this pretty face outta my head. Couldn't get this pretty cunt outta my head, either."

He leaned back, settling on his ankles as he watched his fingers drag in and out of you, coaxing wave after wave of slick from the depths of your cunt. He moaned, really fucking loudly, at the sight.

"Can I... can I take a video?" Price asked, breathless.

You felt yourself burning up, stomach flipping. You nodded, whining a "yeah" as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out his phone. His fingers slowed for just a moment as he readied his phones camera.

"Wish I had a video when I was deployed," he whispered, more to himself than you. "Had to rely on my imagination."

His words made you moan.

"Yeah, just had to remember those pretty sounds you make, and the sight of this pretty cunt stretched out around my cock," He groaned, turning the flash on to combat the hazy lighting in your bedroom. "Came all over my hand imagining it was this cunt 'round my cock."

He hit record as the movements of his finger sped up. You mewled, whining, arching off the bed and pushing your aching core further onto his hand as he fucked his fingers into you, thumb rubbing tightly against your puffy, wet clit. The sounds were obscene, like foley sound effects, soft squelches with each push of his fingers. You could feel your arousal pooling out of you, down the soft skin of your thighs, across the curve of your arse, bleeding into the sheets beneath you. You imagined that Price's hand would be absolutely drenched.

He was making soft, deep noises in the back of his throat, watching his fingers, phone focused on their movements. He flicked his eyes up to your face, not moving the camera though. Your facial expressions were easy to remember— chewing at your bottom lip, slight furrow in your brow, lips puffy and wet with saliva, eyelids fluttering. That was for his mind only.

You moaned, breathy and high-pitched.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Gonna... gonna cum."

He withheld a moan at the sound of your sweet desperation. It made his cock throb angrily within the confines of his boxers, already painfully hard the moment he had pushed you onto the bed.

"Go on then, pretty girl. Cum 'round my fingers," He muttered, and you did— creaming around him with a violent twitching of your legs, cunt spasming around his fingers in a burst of arousal, splattering up the length of his forearm. He smiled lazily behind his phone, muttering; "That's a good girl."

"Price—!" You cried, halfway between a moan and a sob.

He hit stop, tossing his phone aside and pulling your thighs apart. Nestling himself between them, his breath fanned out across your soaking folds. You tried to lift yourself off the mattress to see what he was doing, but you couldn't. When his warm tongue licked a fat stripe up your sensitive slit, you flopped backwards.

There wasn't as much foreplay as usual… in the sense that Price shoved his tongue directly into your drooling cunt. He ignored your overstimulated clit, probably for the best, as he lapped at the arousal that was still leaking from you. He moaned happily against your folds, nose pressed just below your clit. It nudged the swollen bundle of nerves every few seconds, and it made your hips buck, electricity zapping the base of your tummy.

You had both hands in his hair, pulling him closer and urging him on. You tugged gently at the strands, massaging his scalp, making him grumble appreciatively below you. His hands were hard and warm against your thighs, making you tingle. Your tits were still exposed, the rest of your dress pooling around your waist.

You could still hear the rest of the party happening downstairs. A small jolt of fear passed through you. If anyone— especially your dad— came searching for you, you'd be fucking dead. Whoever it may be, would find you spread out on your back on your bed, legs spread and panting, a man probably more than twice your age between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

The fear turned to thrill, and you released a shaky breath.

Your second orgasm rolled over you quickly, and Price dragged it from you with a moan of your name against your cunt. You keened, uttering a sickly sweet "captain!" before coming in his mouth.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it." He murmured against your folds, sucking up the arousal that pooled at your fluttering hole. It always made you embarrassed, the way he literally talked into your cunt, his words vibrating your core. He groaned again, humping against your bed covers, pressing the outline of his aching cock into your mattress. "Such a good, wet cunt. Tastes fucking divine."

He pulled away. You watched him hazily as he shed his shirt and pants, then his boxers, his hard cock bobbing against his stomach. You salivated at the sight as he gripped himself, moving to scoop some of your arousal into his hand. He coated himself in it, pumping his hard length, eyes raking down your body.

"So beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning over you and kissing you again. His cock settled at your entrance, fat head leaking pre-cum onto your already glistening folds. "Just made for me, weren't you?"

You hummed your agreement, barely able to keep your eyes open. He kissed you again, tongue probing, hot and wet. You whimpered, feeling his tongue skim your bottom lip, drawing further desperate sounds from your panting mouth.

Price cursed. "Fuck. Can I record another video?"

You nodded.

"Words, sweetheart, come on. You should know that."

"Yeah, okay," you said sheepishly. "You can record again."

He kissed your nose, then shuffled back, grabbing his phone as he kneeled between your spread legs. He flicked it to his camera, flash on and hitting record. His phone followed the movements of his cockhead, rubbing up your slit, smearing your arousal. Then, with no warning other than a shallow, animalistic grunt from the depths of his chest, Price pushed his cock into you.

He tried not to cum on the spot at the way you tossed your head back, moaning as your silken walls clamped around his cock. Your fists balled your sheets, twisting, as you scrambled for some kind of anchorage as he pulled out and thrusted back in, shunting you up the bed.

His pace was gruelling, sticky skin colliding with a wet fap fap fap. Your eyes rolled, mouth agape as breathy strings of whimpers fell from your lips. His cockhead nudged the plug of your womb, slamming into that spot that had you twitching and spasming.

"My good girl, my fucking good girl, look at you, taking me so well," Price muttered, definitely audible on camera. You clenched around him repeatedly, drawing throaty grunts from him. Your third orgasm was, not surprisingly, approaching quickly. Really fucking quickly. Especially when Price moved his free hand from your waist to toy with your puffy clit, giving it a light pinch before circling it. You sobbed out, clawing at the sheets.

"Captain, please—!"

"Fuck... beg for it... please, sweetheart, fucking beg for it." By the way Price was speaking, he was close.

Your cunt throbbed at that, a whine in his words.

"Please, Price, need to cum. Can I? P-please—fuck—please, captain, need to—"

He groaned, trying to mute himself as much as he could, sinking his top teeth into his bottom lip before urging himself to speak.

"Go on then. Cum 'round my cock," Price uttered lowly, eyes focused on your face. He could watch his cock fucking into your slick cunt whenever he wanted. He just wanted to see your beautiful face. "Good girl, that's it. You can cum. Let go for me, sweetheart."

"Oh my god, Price—" you keened, third orgasm slamming into you and sending you spiralling. White hot, body alight, nerves buzzing as you came around his cock, still burning hot inside you, abusing the plug of your womb.

"Fucking beautiful," Price grunted, still recording the way your cunt stretched taut around his girth, splattering wet across his pelvis.

He was close, twitching inside you. He was pawing at the mound of your belly, pressing his palm to where the imprint of his cock was visible, so fucking deep inside you. He moaned at the sight, salivating, hiking your dress up further to get a better view.

Overstimulation was creeping in. You whined, reaching down to skirt your fingernails across Price's bare abdomen.

"Please, Price, cum for me," you whimpered, voice coming out unusually sultry. "Cum inside me, please, captain."

"Holy fuck—" Price stuttered, spilling inside you instantly.

His warmth flooded you, spurting around his cock, dribbling out of your cunt. He spilled ropes and ropes, hot white ichor, filling your womb as you sobbed for him.

Price tossed his phone to the side, immediately dragging himself up your body, cock still inside. He pressed kisses all over your face, soothing you, the both of you shining with sweat. Your bare tits pressed against his bare chest as he whispered sweet words of affirmation in your ear.

You sighed.

There really wasn't any other man, your age or not, like Captain John Price.

"You alright?" He asked, kissing your earlobe, your jaw, your cheek, your nose, then finally your lips.

You smiled, his facial hair tickling your face. "Mhm."

"Good." He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking at the skin.

"You had fun filming your little videos?" You cooed, stroking a hand through his hair.

He grunted against your neck. "Of course. Straight to the wank bank they go, sweetheart."

You snorted, laughing. "For such an old man, you are so immature."

"I'm not an old man."

"You said you were earlier," you smiled. "Surprised you can still get it up."

"Fucking hell. You and Soap'd get along."

Your mischievous grin grew. "Oh, the one with the mohawk? Sexy—"

Price bit at your neck, making you yelp. He grumbled, "Don't push it."

You laughed, patting his head. You both lay in silence for a little while, listening to the dull, far-away vibrations of the music.

"We should probably rejoin the party..." You said in a disappointed mumble.

Price grunted, hugging you tighter. "Five minutes."

"Enough for round two, old man?"

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

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This was meant to be longer and a bit fluffier but I got tired and horny so here you go hope you enjoyed mwah mwah xx

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #captain john price #call of duty mw2 #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #price smut #captain price x reader #captain’snirvana #cod mw2 #cod price

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penguinbuttcheeks · 1 month

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Three's a Crowd - ghost x reader

summary: you’re the latest addition to the 141. price and gaz have each other, ghost and soap vice versa. you start to realise that you’ll never be able to gain the attention of your comrades - let alone your lieutenant - the way you so desperately crave.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

cw: angst, typical cod violence, character death, mw3 spoilers

word count: 2,318

A/N: feeling angsty so have this :D (FURTHER PROOFREADING IS NEEDED !!! but im eepy and impatient its 2am)

also i genuinely can't live without music, so i always end up adding a song that kinda reminds me of my fic. its not something that needs to be listened to - simply any song i find that kinda suits the vibe of the story and also just sharing some good music for others to enjoy !! idk, just something i enjoy doing (im rambling)

Being the latest addition to the TaskForce 141's ensemble had its downfalls.

While you were immensely grateful for the opportunity to have been recruited by John Price himself, there was still the lingering discomfort of trying to fit in with a new group.

It was childish really. Such a minuscule concern whilst in the midst of fighting a war.

It had been several months since you were enlisted, yet your relationship amongst the four members seemed to lag in comparison to the camaraderie they each shared between one another. Years of companionship amidst the terrors of combat had strengthened the bindings of their connections, forcing them to rely on one another when faced with life and death. It was something that you had yet to experience with them.

You know that these things take time - especially given that fact that it was so common to lose comrades in this field of work. Everyone was terrified of getting attached.

Over the coming days, the five of you had been preparing for an upcoming mission. It was crucial that everything panned out perfectly. Price wasn't leaving any room for fault, not when the safety of thousands were at stake. thousands of civilian lives. Men, women and children.

While Price and Gaz - with the assistance of Farah - had set out to Urzikstan to lead an infiltration on a Konni base they believed Makarov was operating at, you were assigned to Verdansk with Soap and Ghost.

The task; stop Konni from destroying the Gora dam.

The three of you were currently grouped at the meeting point, scoping the area before setting off to defuse the bombs scattered across the site. With the little numbers you had, you were going to have to rely on stealth. You hated stealth.

Stealth required trust. Trust in your comrades to complete their designated tasks without fault, trust in your comrades to stay alert.

You had none.

You were determined to change that succeeding this mission.

"Be advised, Konni personnel are grouping near multiple locations below you." Laswell's voice snaps you from your thoughts, her voice ringing through the comms.

Ghost and Soap look up at where you were perched. You were their sniper for this mission. They were relying on you to keep them covered and you were not going to let them down.

You raise your hand in the air, giving them a thumbs up to alert you were ready and in position. The two men send a curt nod in return before setting off to track down and defuse the explosives.

With Laswell over-watching the operation, and you giving the duo support from a higher vantage point, the low numbers were of little concern. The four of you knew that you would be able to carry out the mission smoothly. Besides,

Failure wasn't an option.

You watch as Ghost silently takes out several guards, advancing his way through the facility as he tries to locate the bombs.

"Bagged 'em" Laswell confirms another kill for Ghost.

“Two guards, on your three by the barrels” you alert Ghost, watching as he stealthily approaches the guards. “I’m lined up, I can get them in one”.

They’re on the ground before Ghost can even blink.

You grin as you peer through the scope of your sniper. This was going to be cake.

“Good to see you in one piece, Johnny” Ghost huffs, splayed on the floor of the heli alongside you and Soap.

“Haven’t felt better, LT.”

It was a scramble trying to meet with Nikolai and board the aircraft, lifting off amidst the enemy's gunfire. You ensured there were no men left standing by the time you all were long out of sight.

Price would be pleased.

“Yeah, I’m okay too. Thanks for asking” you huff out in annoyance, watching as Ghost lends Soap a hand, lifting him to his feet with a small grunt.

You get up by yourself, a simple side glance sent your way from Ghost before both the men turn to Nikolai. At least Soap had the decency to return a relieved smile.

“Mission accomplished, Bravo. You three took down an army and saved lives tonight” Laswell congratulates through the comms, her usual monotonous voice doing little to praise the successful operation that the three of you had completed. “Makarov will not take this well.”

“He’s a big boy,” you respond with an amused grin. “He can handle it.”

“Don’t underestimate the rage of the Russian’s” Nikolai chuckles back in response, looking back at you momentarily to ensure all three of you weren’t seriously injured.

“Speakin’ from experience, Nikolai?” You smirk back, walking over towards the front of the heli where both Ghost and Soap stand, your sniper left discarded on the metal floor of the military carrier.

“Firsthand” Nikolai simply snorts back.

The rest of the ride back is silent, Ghost and Soap sat beside each other, a singular empty seat distancing their proximity. You? You sit across from them, alone on the empty bench.

You don’t mean to let your guard down. You were simply exhausted and finally allowing yourself to stare aimlessly into space as the adrenaline in your system slowly drained from your veins.

“Don’t.”

The harsh voice has you crashing back to reality, eyes focusing in place to meet dark hazel ones, narrowed and directed at you. You hadn’t realised you were staring at Ghost while you silently decompressed. It was a rude startle from your meaningless thoughts.

“Sorry, I zoned out. My eyes were just comfortable” you respond awkwardly, adjusting your seating position and clearing your throat. “Didn’t realise I was staring”

Ghost simply glares back at you, his usual cold and emotionless stare making your hands clammy and stomach flutter. You quickly avert your gaze, turning your head away to stare at the metal tread plate flooring, instead focusing on the loud hum of the aircraft you were all seated in.

It suddenly grew too hot, too cramped in the helicopter. It was claustrophobic - suffocating almost.

You’re the first to scramble off the heli, exhaling in relief when you’re no longer boxed into the hunk of metal you had just spent the last hour travelling in. With your sniper draped loosely over your shoulder, you make your way inside the small safe house nestled on the outskirts of Verdansk. You don’t bother to wait for Soap and Ghost.

It’s late at night. Your body is near spent. Your only goal in mind was getting the heavy military gear off your body to finally allow yourself the comfort you crave.

It’s a small shack, only the bare minimum provided. An old, tattered couch and rickety square dining table with four chairs on each side, each varying in design and wood finishes. They evidently didn’t come as a set. There is a small room off to the side, various camping cots packed and stacked against the furthest wall, at our disposal for when we choose to retire for the night.

Ghost, Soap and Nikolai soon enter after you, Nikolai retreating into the small room to set up the cots and get some much needed rest.

You keep to yourself while Soap settles on the small couch, Ghost taking a seat at the dining table to clean and check over his equipment.

You hastily peel the stiff fabric from your body, vest and outerwear folded on the floor in the corner of the living room, your sniper. Resting atop of them. Your aching body can finally breathe now that the extra layers were finally discarded

“Ye did good today” Soap finally speaks up after a beat of tense silence. You turn to him in slight surprise, not expecting him to initiate any sort of conversation with you. “We’d have been fucked without ye” he continues, Scottish accent thick as ever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps on to your face.

“You guys did the dirty work. I simply scoped the area from above” you assure modestly, not wanting to come across arrogant.

“Aye. Saved our asses several times. We owe you.”

Ghost simply scoffs quietly, standing to move outside where there would be less chatter. He was tired and didn’t want to indulge.

Your smile is wiped from your lips, replaced by a slight frown at Ghost’s exit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Scot.

“He’s a crabbit old man. Pay him no mind” Soap assures you, voice low and seemingly unaffected by the Lieutenant’s departure. “The lad’s not one for meaningless blether.”

You nod, evidently disappointed

Soap observes you silently, taking in your defeated expression, a low hum of acknowledgment absentmindedly leaving his tight lips.

"Ye like the Lieutenant" he voices aloud. There was no room for argument in his statement.

Your head darts to Soap in stunned horror, mouth parted in shock. You're unable to respond, Soap speaking up before you're able to form your words.

"Keen een."

You immediately shut your mouth. There was no point in arguing. He knew.

Soap chuckles, a bitter and amused sound that leaves you feeling uneasy.

"Foolhardy choice"

You watch as Soap leaves to the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. You don't get much sleep that night.

Returning to the 141 base was a relief in itself.

Touching down on British soil allowed you to finally relax. You were finally familiar with your surroundings once again.

You sigh happily upon entering your private quarters, throwing your bag carelessly to the ground. A shower was in order. You waste no time in stripping down bare to prepare yourself for the best shower of your life.

When you emerge from the shower, hair still damp and leaving small patches of dampness along the fabric of your fresh shirt you immediately make your way to the rec room. Some caffeine was in order if you were going to set your sleep schedule back to its usual.

You inhale sharply when you see Ghost sat alone, immediately on edge.

He turns his attention to you momentarily before wordlessly resuming back to the reports in his hands.

Message received.

You quietly walk over to the coffee machine, pulling out a mug as you put the kettle on.

You keep your eyes trained on anything but Ghost, not wanting to anger him again. You can't help but lose yourself in your thoughts once again as you wait for the water to finish boiling.

It wasn't anything more than a physical attraction that you had towards the aloof man. You didn't know the slightest thing about him. You did know however, that he was loyal. Just from your observations alone - it was obvious just how passionate he was about the 141. He would lay his life down without a second thought to ensure a mission was successful, to ensure his teammates were safe.

All of his teammates, save for you.

He was a machine during training, a monster on the field. Rippling muscle and deadly speed, accuracy that rivals even Captain Price himself.

So many times you've caught yourself staring, admiring from the peripherals of your vision with your lip caught between your teeth. You felt like a lovesick teen in high school. It was absolutely infuriating.

"It won't make itself"

You jolt in alarm, head whipping towards the voice. Ghost simply stares at you, eyebrow raised. His skull mask was replaced by his usual black balaclava he wore around base, the prominent shape of his brow bones underneath the knit fabric the only giveaway of his expression. His thick thighs are spread lazily in front of him, large feet planted on the floor as he leans back against the dark leather couch, papers still in hand.

You quickly tear your eyes away from him once again.

"I know." You internally grimace at your response. Stupid. So stupid.

Ghost chuckles, still eyeing you as you stare dumbly down at the now finished boiling kettle and empty mug.

"You're an open book" he speaks up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, lowering his eyes back down to his reports. "You need to keep your head in the game, sergeant. This is a war, not a dating reality."

You glimpse over at him from the corner of your eye, fighting down the heat that tries to spread across your face.

"I'm well aware of that" you respond sternly, hastily making your coffee.

Fucking. Soap.

"Start acting like it, soldier"

You swiftly leave, coffee rushed and head lowered in shame. You didn't bother drinking the sloppy coffee, instead tipping it down the bathroom sink and watching as it swirls down the drain.

Makarov was defeated - the 141 finally accomplishing what they had chased like hell hounds for months - finally at its end.

Ghost stares down at your lifeless eyes.

What should have been Soap’s life was instead replaced with your own.

It was a selfless act of bravery.

No one was fast enough to respond. One minute you were here, yelling out to Soap in alarm, the next you were motionless. An instant death after Makarov lodged his final bullet in your skull.

Ghost knows that he should feel something - anything for the life lost. His teammate stolen from life too soon, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Price places a large hand on Ghost's shoulder, pulling him away from the scene.

The Taskforce retreats. They would send reinforcements to retrieve your body, to be able to send something back to your loved ones waiting anxiously on your return.

It was a shame really. The potential you had was evident, destined to continue fighting for your country alongside Ghost, Price and Gaz.

Ghost turns on his heel, following after his comrades and boarding the heli, your empty seat bringing a deep sense of impending doom, the reality finally setting in for the four men.

Ghost scoffs, shaking his head.

Three was always a crowd

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charliemwrites · 8 months

Text

Hello, hello! Per ceilidh's request - a Soap x Reader ficlet from the prompt thingy.

#11 "You tricked me."

I was heavily inspired by that tiktok sound (iykyk)

Rating: M CW/TW: brief/vague torture, threat of SA (doesn't happen), manipulation, dark!Soap

Being a medium in the military isn’t that much different from being a medium anywhere else.

The rules are roughly the same. Don’t talk to ghosts in living company. Don’t join idiotic 2am summoning circles. Try to help the ones you can; try not to lose sleep over the ones you can’t.

Oddly, there aren’t as many ghosts on a base as any given suburban house. Depends on the base, of course, but a reassuring number of former-military souls continue to their final rest. Even if their bodies (or parts of it) don’t make it back, tags and a symbolic burial usually suffice.

The 141’s main base only has a handful. A few you’ve already gotten closure for, sent off into the beyond. The others you’re working on, or already know they’re a lost cause. Most of them are even friendly!

There’s a corporal that haunts the mess and laments mashed potatoes. A captain appears in Price’s office occasionally, his residual energy glaring down at reports and rustling at phantom papers. On the range, you sometimes speak to the ghost of a prostitute murdered by some piece of shite back in ye olde times. She doesn’t talk back – can’t with a crushed windpipe – but she smiles when you have the privacy to acknowledge her.

Your favorite, though, is Johnny. He’s a comparatively new spirit, by your estimate. Lots of energy, still coherent. You can’t tell how he died by looking at him, but that’s not unusual. It could have been internal bleeding, or a stroke despite his youth. He won’t tell you his last name despite all your asking, always just laughs.

“Yer no’ gettin’ rid o’ me tha easily!”

He always lays the Scottish accent on in a thick velvet blanket. You want to wrap yourself up in it.

Yes, the rules for being a medium are the same, even on a military base. The main one: don’t get haunted by feelings.

That was never a concern, never even a thought, until Johnny. Until you caught his eye around Price’s shoulder during your introductory tour. He followed you for hours, interjecting little asides that put your selective hearing to the test. Always orbited just close enough to send chills down your spine and goosebumps up your arm.

You confronted him when you’d finally been dismissed back to your barrack, whirling around as he popped his mohawked head through the door. Despite yourself, you made quick friends with him.

He’s an unusual ghost. Doesn’t seem tied to a particular place or thing on base. Isn’t trapped along the same paths he walked in life. He’s always solid or near solid, doesn’t waver at certain times of day. You’re utterly charmed by his unorthodoxy, by his miraculous non-existence. And by the fact that, while he knows your secret – as all spirits do – he seems more intrigued than solicitous.

It's not that you blame other ghosts – the coherent ones – for wanting help. It’s torturous to toe that line, not alive but not at peace. Stuck and dwindling little by little. You can’t imagine what it feels like, but you can sense from some that it’s frightening, and cold. No, you’re not bothered that they ask for help. Or with the ones that are just angry; they have every reason to be.

Johnny, though… he’s special. You don’t feel so alone with him, even if the room looks like it to an outsider.

“Oh, aye, that’s pure dead brilliant. You know they’re sending you to Russia?”

You flick Johnny a glance. He’s leaning over Price’s shoulder, peering at the briefing docket that’s actively being explained. You don’t mind the extra or early info. Saved your ass a couple times before.

Your lack of response ruffles his feathers though. He stalks through the table to Gaz, flicks his pen right off the surface. You snort softly as he curses under his breath and ducks to retrieve it, trying not to interrupt Price. You make eye contact with Johnny, blink and minutely shake your head. He can see the twitching at the corners of your mouth anyway.

He smirks and wades through solid objects back to you. His presence looms behind your shoulder, an uneasy flicker at the edge of your consciousness. Like this he seems bigger, inhuman beyond ghostliness. Rougher and darker in the corner of your vision. You’ve done a double-take and gotten teased for skittishness enough times by now to quell the urge to check. It’s always just Johnny.

You’re paired with your lieutenant, Ghost. He’ll be watching with his sniper while you’re on infil. Usually, you’re paired with Gaz, but he and Roach will be at the other end of the compound taking out a target.

When the team is dismissed, Ghost only pauses long enough to give you a nod before skulking off. Not unusual for him; you take no offense. Johnny, however, is scowling something fierce after him.

For whatever reason, he’s never been a fan of your LT. The one time you asked, the lights started flickering and Johnny dismissed the question with a sharp “just don’t like him.”

You suspect that it’s because Ghost was your mentor when you joined the 141. The two of you spent the majority of your time together, training you up to run with the rest of the squad. Due to his constant proximity, your ability to respond to Johnny was greatly hindered.

Still is with how observant Ghost is. Have almost blown your cover several times and had to really watch yourself, and your reactions. You think Johnny might resent him for that.

Back in your barrack, though, Johnny happily chatters while you gear up for the mission. Base gossip and bits of intel he shouldn’t know and shouldn’t tell you. It’s standard ritual for you two; he likes to talk, and you’re accustomed to listening. You hum in the right places, storing tidbits away for your own amusement later.

A playful tug to your bitch-strap makes you yelp, then laugh when you catch Johnny’s grin. He does it again, loosening one of the buckles on your thigh. You swat him uselessly, retightening it only for him to pluck at your bootlaces while you’re occupied. He’s got so much energy, for a ghost. So adept at interacting with the physical world.

“Quit it!” you giggle, trying to dodge his darting hands.

“Why should I?” he chuckles. You curse as he gets a finger in your harness and jerks, misaligning it with the rest of your gear.

“I’ll banish you,” you lie, wriggling various straps back into place.

“Oh, sweet girl, it would take a lot more than you’ve got to get rid of me now.”

It’s an odd turn of phrase for him, but it’s the tone that draws your gaze. There’s an unfamiliar, inky darkness in his voice that pools in the pit of your stomach. You frown, open your mouth to ask what he means. But just like that, his electric smile is back, eyebrows arching as he nods to your bedside clock.

“You’re gonna be late.”

“Shit!” You snatch up your backpack and fling it across your shoulders. “I’m gonna kill you, Johnny!”

“Can’t kill something that isn’t alive,” he cackles as you sweep out the door.

You make it the transport just short of reprimand, though that doesn’t stop Ghost from narrowing his eyes as you duck into your seat. Gaz has already started a lively conversation with Roach, and Price is staying back this time.

You miss Johnny already. He may not be trapped in any particular part of the base, but he can’t come with you on missions or leave. The spaces where he’s absent feel colder and quieter. Everything seems just a bit… off. A song missing an instrument, a rainbow lacking one color.

You’re not sure when that started happening, when Johnny became such a vital part of how you perceive the rest of the world. When did longing for him become a chronic illness?

“Focus up!” Ghost barks in your ear.

You blink, shake your head, and take stock bewildered. Gone is the transport and the rest of your team. It’s just you now, hidden behind a generator, presumably about to infiltrate the target.

How?

When you try to recall, you have vague recollections of exiting the transport. Hiking to the compound. Splitting off with a few parting words amongst the lot of you. It feels watery at the edges, more of a vivid dream than a waking memory.

“Yessir.” It jumps instinctively from your tongue while you flex your cold fingers, trying to coax the nerves back to life.

You take a deep breath – lungs aching like you’ve held your breath too long – and continue with the mission. There’s no room for error now, or idle daydreams of noncorporeal men with wicked smiles.

The building is only three stories and you’re not meant to clear it. Just get to the server room, collect the information, and slip away with minimal enemy contact.

Maybe that’s why you don’t realize that something is wrong at first. You’re supposed to be avoiding guards, so you don’t notice the lack of them. Things do go right, sometimes, the intel can be good.

But it’s the quiet the finally prickles at your awareness. You may be more attuned to the dead, but you have a sense for the living as well. Always made you the worst to play hide and seek with. Now, you can feel that this building is vacant, deprived of any souls.

“LT, something is wrong,” you whisper, frozen mid-step.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s too quiet.”

To his credit, he doesn’t dismiss you immediately. “How?”

“I think the building is empty. Have you seen anyone?”

“Negative.” A pause as he considers, maybe scans the other windows for signs of occupation. “Sit tight, I’ll update Price.”

There’s barely a heartbeat before you hear distant gunfire. Too much and too soon for the plan. Roach and Gaz weren’t supposed to neutralize the target until you were collecting intel.

“Fuck,” Ghost snarls. “Get out of there!”

You’re already sprinting for the stairwell. Nearly pop your ankles leaping down, boot treads catching on the edge of steps. No one is chasing you, but your team needs help. Gaz is shouting in your ear, the channels reconnected for ease of communication. The situation is devolving quickly and violently.

“Almost there,” you report.

Your foot hits the last landing before the ground floor when the building explodes.

---

It takes three tries to get your vision focused. There’s not much to see once you do. A concrete room tinted by bare yellow halogen. There’s a drain in the floor just in front of you and old blood dried in the corners. It smells like rust, infection, and despair. Your head pounds; your entire body aches. Being tied to a metal chair doesn’t help the post-explosion soreness.

You’ve been stripped down to your fatigues, no boots. There isn’t a door in any of the three walls you can see, so it must be positioned behind you.

Confirmation comes about a minute later. Three sets of boots entering your little box. Only one of them walks into your line of sight; a mean-looking man with face tattoos and a gold tooth. He asks if you speak Russian, and though you do, you spew a string of English profanities and threats at him. The backhand you get in return says he understood you.

The questions start as soon as he switches to English. They want information; they always do. What you had been sent to collect and why. Who Roach and Gaz were sent for and why. You don’t speak a word. Even when the pain starts, and then doesn’t stop. You lose track of time, the head injury floating you on the edge of consciousness within the first thirty minutes.

Hours – days? – later, the man takes a step back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“It’s alright,” he tells you, “I like taking my time, and we have plenty. Your friends think you are dead.”

That, you think through the haze, is probably true. You thought you were dead too.

“Perhaps next time we try something… else,” he muses, running a finger down your neck. “You are not as pretty now, but… prettier than you will be later, da?”

Ice forms in the pit of your stomach and climbs up your spine. It was always on the table, you know that, but facing it is something else.

Whatever expression you’re making seems to satisfy him, because he laughs heartily and finally leaves you alone.

Alone, with the promise of his next visit looming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. There’s a dripping sound nearby that you realize, vaguely, is your own blood. Maybe you’ll bleed out before he comes back. You time your breaths with it, using it as a count to get your wild and unsteady heart under control.

Reality washes over you in waves. There is no escape. Your team thinks you’re dead. Eventually, you will break and/or die. You might even become a ghost, join the collective that darkens the edges of this very room, a thing of pain and fear and rage without any coherency or singular will.

You didn’t even give Johnny a proper goodbye.

That somehow hurts the worst. Johnny, hearing second-hand that you’ll never make it back. No one to mourn with him, to offer any comfort. He’ll be alone with grief and then beyond, no one to tell his jokes or stories to.

You miss him more fiercely than you ever have. Part of you is glad he isn’t here. You know him, know he’d be too stubborn to leave you. He’d stay and watch, helpless, as you were tortured and killed. It would tear you apart to do that to him even though it wouldn’t be your own choice.

But… an awful, selfish part of you longs for him. Even just being able to see or hear him would soften the pain and fear. Would make this hell on earth almost bearable. You want to leave this world with Johnny whispering in your ear, maybe even join him when your body finally goes cold.

Given the choice, you would want him here.

You want Johnny. No, you need him. Regret ever leaving him behind, even though he couldn’t come with you. You’d do anything to change that now; anything to be with him again.

Anything?

It’s an unbidden thought, almost intrusive. Doesn’t even feel like yourself asking.

“Anything,” you whisper aloud, just to hear something other than your own despair. “Johnny…”

“You called?”

You jolt, head snapping up so fast it makes you dizzy. The world spins but he’s there, right there, crouching in front of you, arms balanced on his knees.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

Were you closer to the brink than you thought? Is this some sort of final hallucination as you slip into death?

“In the flesh.” He tilts his head, snorts. “Well, in a manner.”

“How…?” you ask, eyes already stinging.

“Told ya, you called. I’d never – hey, now, hey. No need for all that,” he soothes. He wipes the tears from your face. You can feel the warmth in his fingers. “This is a happy occasion.”

You huff in watery amusement, shaking your head. “Did you lose your glasses when you died? I wouldn’t call this celebration-worthy.”

His eyes scan over you, flicker dark. “It will be, don’t you worry.”

You blink, try to focus. Exhaustion and injury and chemical rush are making it difficult, but you know things are off. He shouldn’t be here, least of all because you called. And… something else too. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders and the twitching around his expression.

“Johnny, really,” you say, “why are you here?”

“You offered me anything, and I’m here to collect.”

Between one blink and the next, his eyes are black. Pitch black, from corner to corner. You suck in a breath, try to jerk back but there’s nowhere to go.

His grin is sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he sighs.

He leans in, lips parting. His tongue rolls out, long and split at the tip. Licks a luxurious, burning trail from your chin to your temple. You make a sound borne of confused pleasure and fear, high in the back of your throat.

He shushes you, plants a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth. “My brave little lass, finally offering herself to the demon she’s been courting.”

The word bounces against the walls of your cell and burrows into your brain. Demon, demon, demon.

Johnny is…

“You tricked me,” you sob.

He cocks his head, onyx eyes soft with avarice. “Tricked you? No, angel, I’m saving you.”

His hands pet over the cruel ties around your ankles. The itch of them digging into your skin falls away. Gentle thumbs rub circles over the imprints the left behind. Hope and relief pounds hard in your chest.

“I’m only taking what you so willingly and enthusiastically offered,” he explains in hushed awe. Like you’ve given him such a wonderful gift, the greatest gift. Suppose you have.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he croons. His arms wrap around you, almost like a hug. His fingertips trace down your bruised arms to the cuffs biting your wrists. Those too fall away, and you find yourself reaching for him so quickly, folding into his chest, free of that wretched chair.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, a hand curling into blood and sweat soaked tangles.

“It… it is you, right?” you ask. “You’re my Johnny?”

“Always, angel,” he replies, “it’s always been me. I will always be yours. All you have to do is say yes.”

You tilt your head back, catch the wicked curve of fangs as he speaks. He smells like heat and woodsmoke.

“Yes to what?” you ask.

“To everything,” he answers, deep and rough. “You offered anything, and I want all of you.”

You should say no, you should throw yourself away from him.

There is not an inch of your mind or body that wants to leave the safety of his arms. This is Johnny, your Johnny, hellfire and all.

“And… in return,” you venture, “I get… you?”

“Eternally.”

Then it really doesn’t need much more thought.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.”

#my writing #fanfiction #john soap mactavish #reader fic #cod #writing prompts #demon!soap #soap x reader

871 notes · View notes

fruity-fruition · 4 months

Text

College Wondershow would send each other snack baskets/straight up buy each other delivery meals during exam season.

They're all accompanied by little notes.

Tsukasa's always ends with a star ☆ and some encouragement like "You can do this!!" Or reminders to take care of themselves like "make sure you've drank at least 3 glass of water by now!

Emu's notes are doodles alongside all caps handwriting. Similar to Tsukasa's, she sends words of encouragement but less... comprehensible. To outside eyes. Wondershow understands her perfectly

Rui has no words. It's literally just "nya" or :3 with no explanation. They fear he'd send them a pipe bomb one day (they know he won't. The anxiety is still there)

Nene would send lowercase lmao or rip bozo followed by a ♡. Occasionally, she would bluntly show concern and ask them if they've taken breaks.

(Ruikasa lives in the same dorms bc i think they're cute so usually these notes are for when their classes clash and they don't get to see each other for a whole day)

The entirety of Wondershow have a slight problems of taking care of themselves but they're never not concerned for each other. So sometimes, Tsukasa would have a passing thought of "I wonder if the others had eaten lunch yet" immediately followed by "FUCK WAIT I HAVEN'T EATEN LUNCH YET"

it's like. 4pm already.

Ruikasa can't stand being in their room after spending hours studying there so they cuddle on the couch.

Nene would prefer to live alone I think. She seems independent like that but she would be roommates with Emu for the time being because she's still a student, she has no money yet.

(Emu offered to help pay but Nene shot that down quickly)

Also, they have a schedule where they buy each other groceries and pass it through the SEKAI. So sometimes, at like, 2am, one of them would get a "hey I ran out of eggs btw" text and get reminded that oh yeah, it's their turn to grocery shop.

Anyways, domestic Wondershow.

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byersbootyshorts · 2 years

Text

Guitar Lessons

Summary: Eddie has a thing for playing his guitar at some unholy hour of the night. You're there to punish him for it.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: sub!Eddie, dom!reader, some heavy ass smut, mommy kink, wrist restraints

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is the first time I've ever written a one shot let alone a smutty one. Please be nice and enjoy.

You wake up with a start. What the hell is that racket? It takes you a few moments to come to your senses before you realised what had woken you from your peaceful slumber. It was the sound of an electric guitar blasting through the windows of your dingy old trailer.

God, one thing you hated about living in a trailer park was the unrelenting lack of silence. If it wasn’t the wheels of Max’s skateboard on the pavement or a random baby’s cry echoing through the park it was Eddie Munson’s BC Rich Warlock blaring whatever song he felt like playing at two in the morning.

You were surprised when you first moved to the park that none of the other residents did anything about his late-night jam sessions but you weren’t going to let that stop you from trying.

And so, every night you heard that guitar blast through your window you got up, threw on the first hoodie you put your hands on and walked over to the trailer two down from your own.

It started out as a simple telling off. Pounding the door, telling him to shut up because its literally 2am and slamming the door in his face again.

But one day he decided to say something back.

‘Hey, you just moved in, didn’t you?’ he blurted out before you could slam the door on him for the third time that week.

You paused, releasing the tension in your arm that was about to whip the door shut.

‘Uh, yeah. I moved in two trailers down last month,’ you replied, your annoyance reflecting in your voice.

‘You wanna come in?’

And that was where it started. It turned out Eddie wasn’t the asshole he made himself out to be. You’d never admit it but you couldn’t wait for those nights when you’d be awoken by a riff from another Black Sabbath song. Those few hours in the dead of night spent in Eddie’s trailer were some of the best. Underneath his rock star ego was an intriguing guy you couldn’t help but like.

As those nights of talking went on and the two of you got more comfortable around each other it soon became clear it wasn’t just talking you wanted to be doing. What started out as nights of deep conversation turned into nights of, well, deep something else.

Tonight is no different. You scramble to pull on the Hellfire Club shirt you ‘borrowed’ from Eddie as you hear the familiar thrum from down the park. You exit your room, almost running to the door when you hear your mother’s voice coming from her bedroom.

‘Make sure he knows if he plays that goddamn guitar this late again it’ll be me coming over there to give him a piece of my mind!’ she shouts angrily.

‘Oh, don’t worry mom. He’s in for it,’ you reply, stumbling out the door.

You’re barely half way to his trailer when the riff stops and the flimsy door flies open. He’s been watching for you.

Before a you even share a word, you’re pushing him back into the dimly lit living room, lips on his. After a few minutes of silent making out you reluctantly pull away.

‘How many times do I have to tell you to shut the hell up,’ you say between kisses.

‘As many as it takes for you to do that thing you did a couple nights ago,’ he said breathily.

Your mind drifts back to that night and a smirk forms on your face. Compared to what you have planned for tonight choking him like you had a few nights prior was child’s play.

Eventually the two of you managed to make your way to his bedroom. You can already feel how hard he is under his tight black jeans. You pull him off you and throw him onto his bed. The way he stares up at you with those dark chocolate eyes almost makes you melt.

‘You know, my mom said if you pull that shit one more time, she’s gonna come over here and speak to you herself,’ you began to move closer to the bed. ‘I said I’d teach you a lesson.’

You’re on top of him now, lips only an inch from his.

’You’d rather have me punish you than her, wouldn’t you?’ you whisper, grabbing his dick, making him squirm.

‘Yes, yes mommy,’ he gulps.

‘I’ll only do it if you ask me to,’ you tease, getting off him slowly, as if to leave. ‘If you beg me to.’

Without hesitation he grabs your waist and sets you back on top of him.

‘Please, please, I want you to, please.’

‘You want me to what?’

‘Punish me. Please mommy, I want you to punish me. I’ve been a bad boy.’

It almost makes you laugh how desperate he is. Lying there practically writhing when you haven’t even taken any clothes of yet.

On that note you point at his chest and order him to take off his shirt while you undo his belt painfully slowly, making sure to rub against his bulging jeans as much as possible.

When, at last, you pull his pants off, and remove your own clothes, you look up to find him with his eyes closed, gripping his sheets.

‘You can’t be like that already,’ you taunt. ‘We’re just getting started.’

He just nods, raggedly breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

‘Excuse me, look at me when I speak to you,’ you raise your voice.

His eyes whip open to reveal a look of pure desperation.

‘Good boy,’ you hum, stroking his hair. That only drives him more crazy.

‘Now I feel you need to learn a lesson or two,’ you say, beginning to leave a trail of hickeys down his collar bone and chest as he shifts uncomfortably beneath you. ‘Lesson number one, you need to learn to be patient. I mean look at you already.’ You pull his hair to lift his head so he look at the state he’s already in.

‘This isn’t going to be much fun for me if you’re done before we even get started now, is it?’

He shakes his head violently.

‘Then let’s see how long you can last for me.’

You slowly ease your way onto his dick, stifling a moan as you take it all in. He isn’t so subtle. He throws his head back, grabbing your thighs and releases a breathy moan.

‘Ah, ah, ah,’ you tease removing his hands from your thighs. ‘Don’t make me tie you up. I can’t punish you if you’re all over me like that.’

Without thinking he whines, ‘Please, fuck, please tie me up.’ He glances over to his bedside table where a long piece of rope lies waiting. You begin to laugh.

‘You little slut,’ you say, reaching over to grab the rope. ‘You wanted this all along.’

You tightly tie his hands to his bedpost, all the while still sitting on his dick. You have to admit, you’re surprised he hasn’t came already. So, you decide to up the action.

Without warning you begin to grind up and down on his dick, immediately receiving the reaction you’d hope for.

‘Mmh, oh fuck,’ Eddie moans, a little louder than you’d expected.

You smirk. It’s time for his second lesson.

‘Lesson number two. You need to learn to shut the hell up. First your loud ass guitar and now this. How about giving the people in this trailer park a bit of peace and quiet,’ you bend down, put your finger on his lip and whisper, ‘shhh.’

You remove your finger and replace it with your lips, kissing his lips, neck and chest while continuing to grind at a faster pace. Every so often his hips jut upwards but that only makes you grind faster.

‘Don’t do that. You wanna be a good boy, don’t you?’

He can only reply with a choked whimper.

‘Then start acting like one.’

After a while of grinding and hair pulling and choking, you too begin to feel yourself become weak with pleasure.

‘Okay, let’s make a deal, shall we?’ you begin, looking down into his tear-filled eyes. ‘If you can hold off and wait to cum at the same time as me, I’ll let you scream as loud as you want.’

The look in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

You use him like a doll until you feel you can go no longer. You look down at him gazing back up at you, his bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead.

‘You’re so pretty,’ you say without thinking.

And that just about sends him over the edge. His hips jut upwards again, almost splitting you in half as he cries, ‘Oh god, please. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so quiet. I did everything you asked mommy. Please, fuck, please,’ he pleads

You love it when he begs like that. Looking so pathetic but so beautiful at the same time. It’s almost too much for you too.

‘Okay, okay. You have been a good boy. Thank you for that.’ You stare into his deep brown eyes for a moment before ordering, ‘Go on then.’

He doesn’t have to be told twice. Within seconds he’s cumming, and so are you. He screams your name louder than you’ve ever heard him scream it before. And you’re whispering his, trying to keep your composure.

When at last you both come down from your euphoria you begrudgingly lift yourself off him and untie his restraints. You lie on the bed as he practically shakes beside you, breathing in time with you.

‘Well, did you learn your lessons then,’ you ask after a moment of recovery.

Still out of breath, he replies, ‘If it means we get to do that again, then fuck no.’

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson #smut oneshot #dom!reader #lord have mercy #stranger things #st season 4 #eddie munson smut

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christhopersturniolo · 2 months

Text

୨ PINKY PROMISE ୧

Summary: Y/n finally confronts her abusive dad, leading to a massive argument, where she leaves the house.

Warnings: Angst, daddy issues, violence, cussing.

Notes: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry about any mistake!

୨୧

Im on the living room couch since my dad left the house. My eyes blink slowly, struggling to stay open. I see on my phone, 2AM. The big yellow light only makes me drowsier at each second that goes by. As soon as my eyes close, I hear the door opening, automatically getting my attention.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I watch the old man walking through the living room with a bottle of beer in his hand. The familiar smell of alcohol fills the room. He looks in my direction, his eyes narrowing as they land on me. “What the hell are you doing still up?" He asks with a tone of accusation.

I hesitate before answering, finding the right words. “I.. I was just waiting for you, dad.” I reply. The tension in the room is big.

"Waiting for me? More like waiting to nag me, you little brat." He scoffs as he walks over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting another alcoholic drink.

I feel the rage burning inside me, but I push it down, knowing it will only make things worse. “I was worried about you” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “You were gone for hours, and..”

But before I can finish my sentence, he cuts me off with a bit of a laugh. “You are just like your mother, always putting your nose where you are not called” He takes another swig from the bottle. I put my phone in my pocket. I start getting up, maybe going to bed was actually the best idea, but it looks like he still has things to say. “You're the last person who should be worried about me, little bitch.”

All his words just remind me of how much I hate him. Since my mom died, nothing has been the same. He started getting into alcohol, drinking every day. I have bruises from all the times he had ever hit me. I hate when he mentions my mom, like he didn’t even loved her. I turn myself to him. “It’s not my fault you go out to drink like a fucking addicted, just because you can’t stand the idea of mom not being here anymore!” I say. “And I shouldn’t be worried?!”

“You are just like her” He looks at me with disgusted eyes. “Always running your mouth, just like your goddamn mother.” He gets closer, his breath hitting my face. “If she was here, she would be embarrassed of having you as a daughter, just like I am.” He pauses. “You are just a mistake. I wish I had used a condom that night. No one can fucking stand you.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true.” I try to convince myself. Some tears running down my face, I just can’t avoid them. I feel more and more angry.

He simply keeps talking. “And let me tell you,“ He points an accusing finger at me. “That shitty boyfriend of yours? He’s just with you out of pity.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t know him, dad.” My breath gets heavier.

“He’s just using you, like everyone around you, piece of shit. You will see, as soon as he finds someone bett-“

Suddenly, before he could finish talking, I push him away from me, making him lose balance, almost getting him on the floor. “Stop! Just shut the fuck up already! Leave me the fuck alone!” I scream, tears blur my vision.

But my father’s rage only seems to intensify. He doesn’t give up. He comes back, his hand connects with my cheek, slapping me across the face, leaving a red mark. For some moments, I froze. “I hate you!” I yell "I hate being here! I hate every moment spent under this roof with you!"

“Ungrateful brat! That’s all you are!” He affirms, louder than me.

“I hate the way you treat me, the way you talk to me, the way you make me feel like I'm worthless! I’m out of here!” I use the same tone as him, but this time sobbing. And with that, I start walking towards the front door, I open it.

“Sure! get the fuck out of my house! And I don’t wanna see your ass back here when you realize the shit you’ve made!” He tells me. I take one last look at him before shutting the door.

I start crying uncontrollably as I walk through the dark streets. I don’t even have where to go, I just wanna get out of this place. The only thing I can think of is Chris. I need him. He’s the only one who will understand me.

The panic just builds up as I walk the fastest I can to his house. Each step that I take doesn’t feel real. How the fuck is this actually happening. After an eternity, I finally reach his house. I ring on the doorbell, nothing. It just makes me cry more and more. I ring again, still nothing. Until I finally see the door opening. His eyes half closed, shirtless only with his pajama pants on. He blinks in confusion.

“Y/n? What’s.. What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” He asks with his husky voice.

“Chris.. Im sorry.. I..” I try to speak but the words catch in my throat, I’m only able to cry. He pulls me into a hug, my head buries on the crook of his neck as I keep breaking down. He holds me tightly, as I cling to him, my tears soaking his bare skin.

He kisses the top of my head a few times “Shh it’s okay..” He whispers. “You don’t gotta say anything right now, I just need you to breathe, love. I’ve got you..” We stay like this for some moments, until I calm down a bit.

He pulls me back from the hug, making me look at him. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk better, huh?” He questions me calmly. Chris leads me to his room, always holding my hand. As we get there, he closes the door behind us.

“Let me get you something more comfortable to wear” He looks on his wardrobe. As soon as he finds it, he hands me an oversized hoodie and some fluffy pajama pants. Once I'm settled into the cozy clothes, my boyfriend guides me to his bed. We lay down, my head on his chest as a pillow. He strokes my hair gently. “I hate seeing you like this.. Do you talk about what happened?”

I sniff. “It’s just.. Everything with my dad..” My voice shakes as I talk. I start tearing up once again. ”We argued again, but this time.. I said I wasn’t coming back there, but I don’t even have anywhere to go..” I go back to crying.

“Listen to me, you do. You have me, you are staying here for how long you need to. I’m sorry I didn’t got you out of that house earlier.” He rubs my back.

I sigh. I look up at him with my watery eyes. “Can I make you a question?” I whisper.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you ever.. Do you ever regret being with me? Do you ever wish you were with someone else?”

Chris's brows furrow with concern as he looks into my tear-filled eyes. “Hey, hey, hey.. Why are you asking me that?”

“I don’t know.. My dad is always telling me how you are going to leave me and.. I.. I don’t know..” I say insecure.

Chris cups my face with his hands. “Y/n listen to me, those are just lies. Im not going to leave you and I don’t regret being with you, I love you.”

“Do you promise me?” He wipes away my tears with his thumb.

He extends his pinky finger towards me. “Wanna make a pinky promise?” His sentence makes me chuckle a bit, like a little kid. Slowly, I reach out and intertwine my pinky finger with his. “I promise that I will always be here for you, Y/n.” He smiles. “Now can you promise me that you will never doubt about it?”

“I promise Chris.” He gives me a soft peck on my lips.

୨୧

omg this end was so shitty

taglist: @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @orangelala @annamcdonalds67 @lilo7sworld @soso-scarlettolivia @junnniiieee07

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fxchild · 6 months

Text

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter nine: Make you stay.

--------------------------------

Miles pov

I think it's been one- no. Two weeks, since Y/n had that.. encounter? It's not like we had sex or anything but I definitely didn't expect to make out on her bed until Flora came banging on her door complaining about a nightmare, while Y/n forced me to hide under her damn bed on the cold floor for half an hour while she made sure Flora went to sleep and didn't bother us again. I was kinda glad we got interrupted if I'm being honest. Even though Y/n pounced on me like a lion to a gazelle, she seemed pretty nervous whenever I kissed her too hard or if I touched her leg. Believe it or not things have been even more awkward than before when we were constantly nipping at each other and now I'm starting to miss the fighting more than the dry tension in the room.

Anyways, I've got about fourteen days to make things less awkward and for her to stay with us for the summer. I heard her talking on the phone a few days back, thinking about taking up a different job in California. Her teacher recommended it or some shit, get into a better college. She's not going to Harvard I know that for sure.

Something that's been pissing me off is that Quint has been messing with her head so now she sleeps with the door off and the lamp lights on. I asked him to lay off but it's not doing much. I've been trying to sneak in to make sure he's not fucking with her in her sleep or anything. She's only sixteen like me after all, he shouldn't be messing with kids our age, especially the ones I want to stay.

Uhm, another thing is that I've been out of it for a day or two. Like my throat is pretty dry and I've had a wicked headache. I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow with a cold I'm gonna be pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your pov

It's been about two weeks since Miles and I had that half-assed hookup. Ever since then it's been so awkward. We can't even speak to each other now for more than two sentences before getting freaked out and forgetting what we were talking about. I mean, it's easier to focus on Flora and her work, but at the same time it's boring without being able to pick a fight with Miles. I miss our back and forth bickering because at least it kept us talking and occupied. I have fifteen days before I go back home for the summer, I really wanted to stay but I've gotten more job offerings in new places and I want to go out and explore. Plus, spending the summer in some creepy ass house, with a boy who can't even be in the same room as me for five minutes doesn't seem like the ideal summer. I feel bad for leaving Flora, and I guess Miles because they are all alone with Ms. Grose, who is lucky if she can live another four years. But I need to put myself first, that's what's important. I just wish Miles would talk to me before I leave, because even though we snap at each other, he's been growing on me. I'm not saying I like his stuck up asshole personality but I see how he is with Flora and I sometimes wish he could be able to open up to me like that.

This morning I woke up to the sound of projectile vomiting. I figured it was coming from Flora's room since she ate a lot of chocolate last night. I ran to her room to check on her to find her still asleep in her bed. Then I realized that the puking and groaning was coming from Miles room. I debated on leaving him there to take care of himself since he thinks he's grown and can take care of himself but then I remembered the time I was drunk. The way he drove me home at 2am and stayed outside my door all night in case I felt sick again. I walked into his room and knocked on his closed bathroom door.

"Miles, it's just me. I'm gonna come in okay?" I say as I hear him groan and spit into the toilet. I open the door to see his face almost glued to the toilet bowl, gasping and throwing up. I sit next to him and rub his back, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper so he can wipe his mouth when he's done. "Get it all out, that's it.." I whisper to him as he continues to gag.

When he finishes he grabs the toilet paper from my hand and wipes his mouth, flushing the toilet. I let him sit on the floor with his back pressed against the wall for a moment as I grab a washcloth, drenching it in cold water. I put it on the back of his neck as he tries to stand up. He walks over to me where I'm putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and handing it to him.

"Make sure to brush your tongue too." I put the cap back on his toothpaste. "I'm gonna get you a new shirt, there's a little bit of puke on it." I point to the spot on his shirt. I walk out of his room and open his closet, looking for an old shirt in the piles on the floor. Miles walks back into the room and curls up on his mattress with his washcloth in his hands. I didn't even realize he came back into the room until he spoke up and groaned.

"Jesus it's fucking freezing in here.." I turned around to see him shirtless, breathing heavily and laying down. I grab a random green shirt and walk over to his mattress.

"No Miles, sit up you have to let your stomach settle for a bit." I prop his pillows against the wall and help him sit up a bit. I let him put his new shirt on and pulled the covers up to his waist. I felt his forehead and winced at his temperature. "Miles, you're really hot." I sighed and bit my bottom lip trying to think of how to take care of him.

He let out a chuckle and wrapped a hand over his stomach. "I'm hot? Thanks.." I frown at him since this isn't something to be joking about. "Not funny." I say with pursed lips and put the washcloth on his forehead.

"I'm gonna go to the store to get you some medicine. Flora used it the last time she was sick. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I put my hands on my hips and waited for his response.

He sat there for a second to think, "Am I even allowed to eat anything? Like I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat when you're sick." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes.

"You're allowed to eat Miles but only if you feel up for it. I can pick you up some grits, or popsicles? Do you sound up for that when you get your appetite back?" I rub the back of my neck, giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not hungry..I-I don't care okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow." He shakes his head and waves his hand in the air.

"Okay, well I'm still going to the store because I'm not putting up with your whining later. I'll be back in an hour okay?" I shrug and ruffle his hair lightly before trying to smack my hands away.

I brush my teeth, grab my keys and put on some slippers. I head out to the car to start for the store.

--------------------------------

Miles pov

She couldn't have taken any fucking longer to get back from the store could she? I'm sitting in my bed, trying my best for an hour to hold my stomach until she comes back but it's getting too painful. I ran to the bathroom throwing up nothing but stomach acid. I was panting and almost crying from the pain, it felt like my stomach was twisting. Y/n hears me gagging and rushes into the bathroom to rub my back and hold back my hair. When I'm done, there's tears in my eyes from the pain and she gives me this stupid sad look like she feels sorry for me or some dumb shit. I sit on my bathroom counter as she hands me my toothbrush again. She opens up a small can of Gingerale and puts it on my nightstand.

"You don't have to drink it now, but if your stomach feels funny again try some. It works trust me." She smiles and feels my forehead again to see if my fever had gone down a little. I sit there under the covers with my head against the wall as Y/n sits at the end of my mattress reading a book.

"What's that?" I say weakly, motioning to the book. I catch her attention and she smiles. "A book?" She giggles trying to be funny or something.

"Yeah, no shit." I chuckle and she gives me an unamused look. So apparently I'm not allowed to be funny anymore I guess. "What's it about?"

"It's about a prince trying to find his princess through a dream. It's really cute." She gets up to sit next to me on the mattress, showing me the blurb.

"Oh.. fantasy?" I mutter out as a question.

"Yeah, I like fantasy. You don't?" She tilts her head to look at me, tabbing her book before closing it. I shrug, "I mean, it's not bad but I just can't ever get into it."

"Well maybe that's because you haven't read a good one." She smirks, and for a second I feel like we aren't talking about books. I shook my head and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"You know, I usually get sick in the summer." I give her a side glance. I lied, I never get sick. This was the first time in probably a year and a half I've gotten sick. "I mean, who's gonna get me a cold washcloth and rub my back when I'm throwing up?" I smirk at her slightly.

"Ms. Grose?" She jokes and I roll my eyes.

"Be serious Y/n. She's so old I think she's gonna kick the bucket any day now. And when she does that, who's gonna help me take care of Flora? I don't have any parents you know." I sit up more and turn to face her, putting my hands in my lap.

She sighs and turns to face me. "Who said I was leaving?" She gives me a confused look.

"Y/n I heard you on the phone. I mean California seems nice, but is that what you really want?" I give her a dead eyed look and raise a brow.

She studies my face letting out a deep breath, "Miles, you don't even like having me around. We fight all the time, why do you want me around?" She shakes her head and leans back a little bit.

"Come on, Flora will miss you. She'll be upset that you aren't coming back. I mean she really loves you, fuck, she wants you to be her mother! She needs you, Y/n- I-I need you okay? I can't even take care of myself while I'm sick and you expect me to take care of myself, a whole property and a little girl? I mean, jesus, what do I have to do to make you stay?" I spurt out quickly, motioning my hands everywhere with dramatic tones.

She smiles for a moment and grabs my hand, "You just did." She gives me a sincere look, like we finally came to an agreement. I let out a relieved sigh I didn't even know I was holding and she giggled. "Why do we fight so much? Everything would be so much easier if we just listened to each other, you know?" She asks even though she sounds like she already knows her own reason.

"I think you know why I do it.." I look at my red candles I caught her staring at one day in particular when she first came into my room.

She looked at the candles then back at my eyes. "Because you don't know how to treat people?" She barely whispered out. She looked into my eyes for a moment before speaking once more. "I only pick fights with you cause I think you're kinda cute." She admits, leaning back again.

I raise a brow, "You think I'm cute?" I chuckle and she let's go of my hand, she's trying to bite back a smile.

"Yeah, you're cute. So what?" She smirks and we stare at each other. I think we were both waiting for one of us to do something, anything. But no one moved or spoke. After a moment of my silence she got up and put the covers back over my waist. "You should get some rest, it's not good to stay up when you're delirious." She gave me a dejected look and turned off my lamp.

"I'm not delirious." I grab her wrist gently and assure her.

"You're sick, Miles." She gives me a stern tone, and eyes me down to let go of her wrist.

"I know what I'm saying, Y/n." I gulp and give her the smallest smile I could muster and let go of her wrist, laying back into the pillows. She slides a hand on my forehead and it goes into my curls. She kissed my forehead and walked to the door.

"Get some sleep, call me if you need anything okay?" She gave me a sad smile and walked out of the room.

Now she was just confusing me because did she just reject me without either of us talking about dating? I don't think I asked her out but I think I wanted to. I want to I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when she can't take me seriously? I better get over this damn sickness soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi hi! It's fxchild back again with another chapter! Sorry if this is bad I had to rewrite it THREE times because it kept god damn deleting. This took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to write (I timed it yes) so hopefully you enjoyed it. Plsplspls if you did not see my other post to put some requests in because this will be one of the last chapters until Mr. Fairchild finishes his story. I literally do not care what you ask me to write as long as it's not acc insane. If my requests don't work PLEASE dm me I will answer because no one texts me like ever ! Anyways, I love you guys so so much 💕 thank you for continuing to motivate me to write.

-fxchild

#fanfic #finn wolfhard #miles fairchild #the turning #miles fairchild x reader #miles fairchild smut #the switch #fxchild

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sluttyminho · 1 year

Text

i'm so glad you're mine

pairing: idol!chan x fem!reader

genre: smut - MDNI

summary: chan really can't stand the thought of another man talking to you let alone hanging out with you, so when he finds out you asked another member to go with you to the park it really pisses him off.

warnings: smut, angst, jealous chan, make up sex, oral sex (fem recieving), pet names, sub!reader, dom!chan, unprotected sex (use protetction please), praise (a lot of it), aftercare

wc: idk around 1500

Chan was really busy these past few weeks, and he wasn't really paying you much attention. You only saw him at night when he came home or in early mornings before he got to work, you two almost didn't talk at this point and it was tearing you apart. You didn't even have sex for the last 3 weeks and you were desparate for his touch, to feel his lips on you, you just wanted him to at least give you some attention but he never tried to start anything. You thought he was tired so you never said anything to not pressure him into doing things he doesn't want to.

You woke up when you heard someone open the front door. The clock on the night stand read 2am, you were still so sleepy but decided to get up and see chan and maybe strike up a conversation with him after a long time.

When you came to the living room he was there taking off his coat and shoes, he looked tired like really, really tired you never saw him like that before so you started to worry about him. You went up to him put your arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck on his lips but he just pulled away. You looked him deep in the eyes and the only thing you saw in them was how stressed he was, how much he needed a good sleep and to have a few days only to himself to forget about work and every thing left he has to do.

You tried to kiss him again but he pulled away once again "channie baby what's wrong?" you asked him but he only gave you a look of annoyance. After a few moments of silence he finally said "nothing for you to worry about, now leave me alone, it's already hard enough to have the boys being around me all the time don't need you to be too" he pulled away from you, went to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

You were laying on your side of the bed for what felt like hours waiting for Chan to come out of the bathroom so you could try talking to him but once he came out he only went to his side of the bed, layed down and turned his back to you. "are you mad at me or something? Did i do something wrong?" you ask him just curious why he's acting the way he is. "can you just stop talking to me Y/N i really don't want to have this conversation right now" chan said with evident annoyance in his tone. "okay, but i just want to let you know that you mean the world to me and that i'm here for you if you need anything" he didn't say anything in return and you were a little sad about it, but it was fine as long as he was there next to you peacefully sleeping. "i love you" was the only thing you said before you dozed off to sleep.

the next morning...

You woke up and chan's side of the bed was empty like every morning the past few weeks. But it was his day off so you thought maybe he'd stay in bed with you and spend some quality time together, but you guess you were wrong. If you're being honest you weren't surprised that he wasn't here next to you after what he said to you last night.

You tried calling him a few times but he never picked up so you started texting him to ask him where he is and why he didn't tell you he was going somwhere, but no response.

you: channie baby i was worried about where you went so i tried calling but you didn't pick up.

you: call me when you have some time i need to ask you something

you: love you❤️

Chan didn't even bother to text you back so you texted Jeongin.

you: hey, i want to ask you something

I.N: hi, sure go ahead

you: so i thought maybe you wanted to go to the park with me and maybe go get ice cream?

I.N: what about chan hyung isn't he going?

you: well the thing is, i think he's kinda mad at me for some reason and i don't want to annoy him even more

I.N: oh, well okay then let's go to the park i'll pick you up in 15

you: ok, se ya

You got up and started getting ready. You put on a mini dress chan bought you for your birthday. That's so basic but bear with me. The dress is white with cute little flowers on it and it fitted you perfectly. You brushed your teeth, put on some makeup, put on your shoes and left the house because jeongin was already waiting for you outside.

I.N: i'm here, come out

you: out in a minute

You came to his car and sat in the passanger's seat. Jeongin greeted you with a warm smile and pulled off to the park.

When you arrived the first thing you did was go get the ice cream. "so, what flavour are you getting?" jeongin asked "idk i think i'll take the strawberry one it's my favourite" you replied and he softly smiled at you because it was his favourite flavour too.

Right at that moment the waiter recognized jeongin and she quickly went for her phone to take a picture of you two smiling at each other so it looked like you were on a date. "can you delete the photo you just took? It's really making me uncomfortable." jeongin said with a calm voice "sure thing" the waiter replied "thank you" he said and left the ice cream bar with you by his side.

It's been about 20 minutes and you both finished your ice creams when you got a call from one and only chan. You answered it calmly "hey baby you finally called back" you said "why the fuck are you alone with jeongin, eating ice cream?" he shouted with evident anger in his tone "how did you know i'm with him?" you said, curiosity running through your veins "what do you mean how i know? it's all over twitter" he yelled and you almost dropped your phone. You hung up and opened twitter, the first thing you saw was a photo the lady at the ice cream bar took of the two of you. You were so pissed you wanted to go back there and choke that woman with your own hands. The last thing you wanted was the fans spreading fake dating rumors and hurt chan.

Chan texted you.

channie: i'm coming to pick you up so we can talk

channie: stay where you are

you: okay

you told jeongin that chan was on his way to pick you up and the only thing he said was "i'm sorry". He knew how much you loved chan and seeing you this sad was something he hated to see because it was making him sad to. He then walked back to his car and drowe away.

channie: come to the ice cream bar, i'm here

you: there in a minute

After coming to chan's car he motioned for you to sit in the passanger's seat, so you did. The first thing he did was ask you "why the fuck were you here with jeongin? You could've asked me to come with you. The last time i checked i was your boyfriend not him" he said, his expression was giving off anger, sadness and annoyance all at once. You couldn't even look him in the eyes. "i tried chan, i tried but you weren't picking up nor texting back, what was i supposed to do? Be alone at home while you're god knows where doing god knows what." you yelled on the verge of tears. You were botling up your problems for few weeks now but fuck it, now you are going to yell them one by one at his face wheter he likes it or not. "i'm sorry chan, i'm sorry for not being the perfect girlfriend, i'm sorry i'm clingy, i'm sorry i need your attention most of the time but you know what? I'm only human too so i expect you to treat me like one. I know you have your own problems and i gave you the chance to talk to me and help you solve them, but do you know what you did? You pushed me away and treated me like a piece of shit for the past few weeks, and i'm sick of it, i'm so fucking sick of it chan" you said now fully crying, but it was better now that you got all this off your chest. "Y/N i'm so sorry, i didn't know i was hurting you this much. I was under lots of pressure because of work and i really didn't want to stress you out because of my problems, i'm really sorry and I won't be able to forgive myself for that. Why don't we just go home so i can make up for all the nights we didn't get to spend together hmm? How does that sound?" he said tears swelling in his own eyes now, realising how much he hurt you "that sounds great my love" he leans in to give you a quick peck as he drives off home.

When the two of you got into the house you took off your shoes and coats. As soon as you did that he grabbed your waist and started kising your neck while slowly leading you to the bedroom. When you were there he led you to the bed and whispered into your ear "i'm going to make you feel so good baby. Make up for all the time we lost while i was busy at work hmm, now lay down for me and let me do all the work" you listened to him and did exactly what he told you to. You were laying on your back as he leaned over you and started peppering little kisses to your collar bone and slowly moving down.

"Baby, can i take this off?" he said, pointing at your dress. You nodded and smiled at him wanting to let him know that you were 100% okay with him doing these things to you. He took off your dress along with your red laced bra. "honey you look amazing" he whispered just enough for you to hear. He slowly started sucking on your left nipple squezing the right one with his hand. It didn't take long for you to start moaning when he was making you feel this good. "hmm channie feels so good" you whimpered. He started moving his lips down your stomach leaving open mouthed kisses all over it until he came in contact with your panties, he grebbed them with his teeth and started pulling them down your legs at a painfully slow pace. when your panties were off his face came in contact with your core. He licked off your juices and his eyes widened "oh god baby, you taste fucking amazing" he licked over your clit and your whole body shivered from how sensitive you were there. "c-channie baby f-fells g-good mmm" he then pushes two of his fingers into your aching hole while still stimulating your clit. He was going at it for a few minutes when you suddenly felt a knot at the pit of your stomach. "channn i'm about to c-" and you were already cumming all over his face but his mouth was still on your pussy helping you through your orgasm. When you came down from your intense orgasm "that was awesome baby , thank you channie" you looked down at him and saw his mouth covered in your cum. He then looked you up through his eyelashes and whispered"but baby, i'm sure you can give me more, what do you think? are you ready for round two? but this time you'll be cumming around my dick hmm?" you were only able to nod and he was already taking off his chlotes. You blinked once and he was already aligned with your hole. "are you ready to take me baby" he asked, excited to feel you after all this time. "more than ever" you reply, happy to be so close to him all over again. He pushed into you with a loud grunt not even giving you the chance to adjust to his size, making you a moaning mess. He was moving fast and rough stimulating your clit with his free hand so after a few minutes both of your orgasms were aproaching you. You both started moaning so loud that you were sure even the neighbors heard but you couldn't care less, it only took one last thrust for chan’s seed to spill all over your insides and as if on command you were cumming around his cock not even a second later. It felt like you were dreaming, and chan being chan, didn't want to waste a single drop of his cum so he fucked it all into you.

He colapsed on top of you and embraced you like you were the most fragile thing on this earth. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole i really didn't mean the things i said" he whispered into your ear then hid his face into you neck so he couldn't make direct eye contact with you. "It's fine channie i just wanted you to see what you did wrong so you could see why i reacted the way i did, it was no big deal but i was so sensitive at that time because it wasn't the first time you did that, oh and i love you to the moon and back, just wanted you to know" you were so sweet he almost started melting right there and then. "i'm so glad you're mine" he said giving you a long chased kiss.

"Let's wash up then we can cuddle till we fall asleep" as he said those words he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom and right into the shower. He let the water run over you first since he's a gentleman, he then put shampoo over your hair and started massaging it into your scalp. I need a chan in my life fr. he helped you rinse it off and wash your body, then went to the drier for some hot towels so you don't freeze to death. Chan came back with two towels one for himself and one for you, and helped you dry yourself off. You ran to your closet to put on some panties and chans t-shirt that you stole from him, and layed onto the bed chan comming after you. He hugged you from the back and started massaging your lower belly in case you were in pain he whispered a simple "i love you" you pecked his lips "i love you more" is all that came from your lips before you dozed off to sleep.

[m.list]

This is my first fic so i would really appreaciate if you liked it or rebloged it. I know it's not that good because i don't have so much expirience but hey, i'm still learning. And oh i need a chan in my life so fucking bad i might cry.😭🩷

#christopher bang #chan smut #chan fic #stray kids #skz bang chan #chan angst #smut tw #bang chan

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mxnae · 6 months

Text

Late Nights, Writers Block, & Apologies

A/N: this story belongs to mxnae on Tumblr, please do not repost it as your own.

MXNAE'S MASTERLIST

Pairing: jack harlow x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, imagine

summary: you wake up at 2am alone in bed, looking around trying to find where Jack might be she finds their bedroom door cracked with light coming into the room. walking out of your room and wandering around, you find Jack in his studio with a pen and his notebook in front of him along with his face in his hands. he storms out leaving you upset, will he apologize?

you jolt awake, possibly from a bad dream. when she reaches over to feel for her beloved boyfriend, she feels his side is empty. 'hm' she thinks, wondering where her beloved boyfriend is.

walking to the sliver of light coming from the hallway, leaving the room in only her boyfriend's oversized 'Harlow' sweatshirt and some cheeky underwear, you make your way out of your shared bedroom on the hunt for her boyfriend.

after checking the living room, Jack's mancave, and the kitchen, you make your way to the only other place Jack could be; his studio.

"Baby?" you asked knocking softly on the door already cracked open with light coming from inside. She immediately sees Jack in distress.

"my love, whats the matter?'' she asked going to sit in the second chair beside jack, removing his hands from his once convered face. once his hands are moveed, she can see he's in tears. "oh baby'' she says getting into his lap as he holds her close, breaking down in her arms.

you noticed the trash can that was previously emptied was now full of balled pieces of paper, he was having writer's block.

"i cant do this anymore'' he says with slight anger.

"baby you know you dont have to do it all by yourself, you have urban and your entire team.'' you say attempting to comfort him the best you can as you move back into the nihgbooring chair to look at him face to face.

"what dont you understand y/n, i DONT NEED THEM!" jack yells grabbing his keys and storming out of the room. you stay put, in disbelief that hed ever raise his voice at you knowing what you've been through.

you immediately breakdown, going straight into your shared bedroom and locking yourself inside. engulfing into tears, upset that he'd lash out let alone at you. you never planned on leaving that room, ever again.

later that day...

'girl, you have to get up." Neelam says as shes repeated for the last few hours. its now 2 pm and youve yet to sleep. she used the key jack gave her icase of emergencies.

"but he doesn't love me anymore, why would he do that.." you say breaking down every word, you believed there was no purpose at this point. once Neelam gave up, you just curled up and slowly fell asleep.

Several times during your slumber you received multiple calls from Neelam, urban, and Jack. you declined every single one. yet this time you answered when Urban called.

"what urban" you say lowkey annoyed as you situate yourself on your bed.

"Jack's on his way back. hear him out, give him a chance.'' he says in a pleading voice, hoping to not have his favorite couple including you who is a sister to him, and Jack who is his childhood best friend, break up.

"I guess I can but you know how getting yelled at affects me urb," you say as he agrees. "I got to go, he's here," you say as your home security system alerts you that the garage door has been open, you both say your goodbyes as you hang up.

knock knock. "Baby?" Jack whispers at the door, attempting to open it, yet to find it locked. you get up open the door and immediately engulf him in a hug.

"I was so worried about you'' you say as you pull away from him yet your emotions change almost immediately "I'm still very mad at you tho," you say turning away from him and getting onto your shared bed.

"I know my love and I'm sorry, so very sorry," he says following behind you before grabbing your face so that you look at him.

"You're mine and im yours, im sorry I yelled. I know that can affect you in ways unimaginable." he says shedding a small tear, you quickly wipe it away.

"I accept your apology, but now you owe me a fuck tone of cuddles," you say making grabby hands at him as he quickly takes his shoes off and joins you lying down.

#mxnae #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut #jackman thomas harlow #jackman thomas #series #fluff #imagine #request #smut #jack harlow masterlist

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mindyco · 1 year

Text

Why'd you have to go and leave me all alone?

Warnings: hard angst, death, grief

Summary: Bakugou finds out that we died while fighting off villains and he has trouble coping.

I feel like a demon for writing this, but gimme a break, it's literally 2AM and I'm in need for some angst. ←～（o ｀▽´ )oΨ

Artwork credit: @A6Lv8

It didn't really hit hard at first, it just never felt real to him.

He watched as the monitor beeped one last time before flattening out. He couldn't feel anything, even when you smiled your last smile and took your last breath. He just watched as though he were a bystander.

He continued living like a ghost, not really knowing what the hell he was doing after he left the hospital that day.

He loved the distraction that being a pro hero brought him. Taking on more and more duties than he could handle just to avoid the suffocating weight of his grief.

He trained relentlessly, pushing his body to its limits, hoping that physical exhaustion will numb the ache in his soul, if only temporarily.

But no matter how hard he fights, no matter how many villains he defeats, he can't escape the void you've left behind.

He finds himself constantly on edge, his ears perking up at the slightest sound, hoping to hear your voice, your laughter, but it's always a cruel trick of his mind.

"Y/N?!"

He turns around abruptly, heart pounding, expecting to see you standing there, but there's only emptiness, a void that echoes his grief.

The denial he clings to can only shield him for so long. It crumbles beneath the weight of reality, leaving him vulnerable and shattered.

He became more desperate for a lifeline.

Late at night, Bakugou would reach for his phone, the bright blue light illuminating his pale face, as he dials your number, waiting for a response that will never come.

ring

Your call has been forwarded─

He listens to the ringtone, a painful reminder of your absence until it's replaced by silence, mocking his longing.

Over and over again, he'd hang up and try again. No matter how long it takes, he just needed to hear our voice now.

"Answer… please… just answer, damn it…!"

Bakugou stood outside the door of your once-shared home, his heart pounding in his chest. The silence of the empty hallway was suffocating, matching the emptiness he felt inside. He gripped the doorknob tightly, his knuckles turning white, and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The familiar scent of your presence lingered in the air, a painful reminder of what he had lost. The room seemed frozen in time, as if waiting for your return. Bakugou's eyes scanned every corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, to see your smile that could light up his world. But the room remained still, devoid of your laughter and warmth.

Guilt twisted in his gut, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He blamed himself for not being there when you needed him the most, for not being able to hold your hand as you slipped away. The guilt mingled with the grief, intertwining into a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume him.

Bakugou fell to his knees, his voice choked with unshed tears. "Why… why couldn't I be there? Why couldn't I save you?" His words were barely a whisper, lost in the emptiness of the room. He clenched his fists, his body trembling with the weight of his loneliness.

He had always been strong, the unyielding hero, but now he felt weak and vulnerable. He needed you here with him, more than ever. You were his anchor, the one who grounded him, and now he was adrift in a sea of despair. The realization hit him like a crushing wave—he was all alone.

That was the first time he's ever laid his emotions bare, but you weren't even there to witness it.

And he hated you for it.

～𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

#Bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #angst

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volklana · 1 year

Text

Gimme More

Title comes from this song:

Request: Heyyy I'm way too shy to ask this off anon but have you ever thought about writing a fic where reader has to go undercover as a stripper and she gets paired on the mission with Bucky who acts like he hates her but it's because he's secretly obsessed with her and this is the thing that drives him over the edge? I don't know just think you would do wonders with a prompt like this.

Words: 4,392

Warnings: Stripping, unwanted sexual advances, mild torture. Shower sex.

A lot of the visuals and reader’s final outfit is based on this music video:

Masterlist can be found here:

“Louisiana, Steve?” Bucky barked.

“I really think, this is the key Bucky, we know the deal is happening, we just need this final push of information.”

“Y/n, is already down there, has been the last two months, she’s making fantastic leads but I really think this could be the final step.”

Bucky sighed, and ran his hands through his hair.

“I know you’ve got some problems with y/n, but I really need you to do this.”

Whenever Steve said those words Bucky never felt like he could refuse, because it was Steve and everything he had done for him, so he relented.

Bucky dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, it was more than problems he had with you, he could barely stand to be in the same room as you, let alone have to live with you, he put off packing for as long as possible trying to prolong the inevitable.

Bucky let himself into the safe house, you had texted him the coordinates earlier, telling him you didn’t finish work until after 2am, he showered and climbed into bed.

Your headlights pulling into the driveway woke him and he was rising to let you in.

“I managed to get you work, you’re needed as a heavy hand, security, protection, that kind of thing.”

“How’d you manage that so quickly?” he mused.

“I’ve managed to get quite close to him, I’m his favourite girl at the moment. He trusts me.”

Bucky scoffed and you rolled your eyes, “I’m going to shower, just turn up on time and don’t fuck this up for me.”

Vincent was the club owner, despite never having been a member he had profited greatly from dealings with Hydra. Now he was running a money laundering campaign using the club as cover. He was good to his girls and for the most part ensured no one harmed any of them.

Your second week on the job you had purposely instigated a situation that had a man carried out of the club on a stretcher while you cried on Vincent’s lap, he was a sucker for a pair of sad eyes, you had the saddest eyes of all and you knew how to play him like a violin.

But Bucky didn’t need to know the ins and outs of what you had done to make this mission work.

And so Bucky went to work early the next day, and he didn’t think any more about you until you turned up for your shift the next evening.

“Hey Antonio,” you greeted running your hand along his chest as he moved the rope to let you in “James,” you acknowledged with a nod.

“Man tell me how you’ve known her this long and you aint tapping that,” Antonio sighed following you with his eyes.

“Watch how you speak,” Bucky snapped and he regained his composure sharply, surprising even himself with the outburst.

The dance music spilled out into the night drowning out the sound of crickets and Bucky and Antonio were moved from outside to run security inside. It wasn’t Bucky’s first time inside a strip club, but he didn’t particularly enjoy time in them.

Antonio tapped him and pointed his head in the direction of the stage, Bucky hadn’t even seen you make your way up to the stage, but he was mesmerised as soon as you began to sway your hips, your legs accentuated by the six inch heels you had on, hair tied up in a long ponytail that you swished and swirled effortlessly. You worked the pole in ways Bucky had no idea your body could move, he genuinely felt his mouth go dry as you dropped to the floor, crawling on all fours stopping in front of Vincent to run your hands up your body and swirl your hair, as you unhooked your bra.

Bucky looked away only then because he didn’t want to invade your privacy. The irony of that not being lost on him.

He may have been trust into the modern world against his will, but he still had certain beliefs and the only time he wanted to view your body was with permission and when it was squirming underneath his.

When he chanced a look in your direction again you were sitting on some guys lap while he spilled champagne over your chest and into your mouth.

Bucky made a mental note to make sure you were really were doing okay when you got back to base that night.

You were quiet when you slipped in, Bucky was still awake tapping on his laptop as you slipped your shoes off.

“Does this guy look familiar to you?” you asked simply throwing an ID at Bucky, the name read Andrew Beck, Bucky instantly clocked him as the guy’s lap you had been sitting on earlier.

“How did you get this?” Bucky was seriously impressed, “He paid for a private dance after you left,” you offered simply.

“Y/n,” Bucky sighed “Are you sure you’re okay with this, if Steve knew-”

“-Steve knew what he was sending me to do, I’m fine Buck. But you cannot be so uptight, Beck thought you were my boyfriend the way you kept watching like you wanted to pull the head off anyone who touched me, if Vincent sees you-”

-”No you’re right, I’m sorry.” Bucky interjected and you nodded.

“I’ve put a lot into this and we’re so close I can’t afford to slip up now.”

“We won’t,” Bucky promised, but you knew better than to rely on one of those. You eyed him warily and hmmed in response.

You excused yourself to bed after a shower.

To tell the truth Bucky was putting off going to bed, he had tried to sleep earlier but the thought of you on that stage had his mind going to all sorts of terrible places, and he’d had to readjust himself a few times to try to get comfortable. He didn’t want to cross that boundary but the way your body had wrapped around the pole earlier made that incredibly hard.

Bucky didn’t like you. He made it abundantly clear when you were both living back at the compound. He rolled his eyes at things you suggested, he berated you for mistakes you made on missions and that last one had been so bad Steve had to step in. When Steve had informed you he was sending Bucky down you had begged him for a solid week to send anyone else but him, but he never gave in. If you hadn’t invested so much of yourself into this mission you would have simply told Steve to stick it but you were almost certain you were within arms reach of finding out who Vincent was laundering for and if that meant sucking it up with Bucky for a few weeks then so be it.

Weeks went by of alternating shifts between you and Bucky, he was less and less on security work lately and more on the heavy handed side of things, collecting debts and rolling out punishments, while you continued to work the stage, collecting IDs and bringing them home for Bucky to run through the data base. One particular night he came home fist bloody and headed straight for the bottle of whiskey you kept on the counter. You were applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom mirror and getting ready to head in when you saw Bucky’s reflection behind you, “Y/n, be careful okay, you don’t hear the way the other guys talk about you and the things they want to do,” before you could even respond he was retreating into his room and slamming the door.

Bucky was the first to find out that Vincent was throwing a private party when he was booked to do security that night. He rushed home to tell you just as you were getting off the phone, “I know when the exchange is happening!” he rushed but his face fell when he saw yours, “What is it?”

“I’ve been booked to work that night,” you said simply, “None of the other girls, just me.”

“You think he’s on to us?” Bucky asked panicked.

“No Bucky, that’s not it. Private parties for Vincent normally mean more than just dancing,” you sighed rubbing your hand across your face.

“Well then it’s non negotiable you’re not going.”

“Bucky we have him, we have him in the palm of our hands now is not the time to back out. Let Steve know to be here, I’ll work out the rest.”

The bile rose in Bucky’s stomach at the thought of it but he had no choice but to trust you.

Bucky stood by the pool, arms folded watching like a hawk, for any sign of the buyer. He hoped Steve and the others were in place because he couldn’t risk using comms tonight.

He heard your laugh from across the lawn, you were in a pink silk and shimmery bra with a matching short shimmery skirt with a slit all the way up to your hip on one side, you looked like a goddess to Bucky with the gold glitter around your eyes and gold bangles adorning your arms.

There was a stage with a singular pole in the middle of the grounds, leather couches and small firepits surrounding it. Some men had already taken their seats in anticipation of your performance. When Vincent stood up to announce your arrival Bucky felt his throat go dry. The music started and you began to sway, there was no denying it, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, you let your hair loose, letting your fingers run through it and swirled your fingers around, dropping to a splits you eased onto your back, long legs extending into the air as you spun around onto your stomach, slowly crawling your way back up the pole.

Bucky wanted to march up on stage, grab you and drag you off into a corner and fuck you senseless, him and every other man watching you, he suddenly felt an immense pang of jealousy over that.

You weren’t his to want or have.

And then he locked eyes with you, as you bent down to touch your toes, butt pressed firmly to the pole, looking up at him through your lashes he nearly came on the spot as you smiled coyly his way.

His concentration was broken however when he heard Vincent’s voice in front of him.

“I’ll want to be compensated, she’s my best earner at the moment,” Bucky honed in on the conversation.

“I will expect to try before I buy,” the man to his right said simply, eyeing you and you slid your bra off effortlessly, Bucky knew that voice, he began wracking his brains to place just where he knew that voice.

“I’ve had only the briefest taste myself but you are in for a treat.”

Bucky didn’t know if he wanted to be sick or kill the men in front of him or both but he hoped Steve would swarm the place soon so it didn’t get to that.

As you finished your set you pulled your bra back on and climbed down from the stage, to the thunderous sound of applause.

Bucky watched you wind your way through the crowd to get to him.

“Enjoy the show?” you teased and he groaned, “I saw you Barnes, you couldn’t look away.”

Bucky lunged forward to reach for you, grasping your arm in his, swallowing thickly, his eyes glanced down to your lips.

“What the fuck did you do?” Vincent shouted, grabbing you by the arm forcing you out of Bucky’s arm to face him.

“Vincent you’re hurting me,” you cried trying to wrangle out of his touch.

Bucky barely even had time to react when he felt the jab in his neck and suddenly he was losing consciousness, your terrified eyes the last thing he saw before he hit the ground.

__________________________________

Bucky blinked his eyes open to a blinding pain in his head, his hands were secured high above his head and no amount of pulling could set him free, even with his metal arm. The dull ache in his shoulders told him he had been in that position for a while. He tried to do a quick survey of his surroundings, he was definitely in a bunke. He whipped his head around trying to spot you and his heart fell out of his chest when his eyes landed on your unconscious form, tied to a chair, head hanging forward and blood drying on your lips.

“Y/n,” he hissed, “Y/n, you need to wake up. Please,” he begged.

“She’s a tough one,” the same voice that he had been trying to remember earlier mused stepping out of the shadows, “Took down two of my men trying to get to you earlier, she’s got fight in her,” he cupped your face lifting it up to inspect your features, “She’s beautiful huh? Can see why the Cap chose her for this line of business.”

Bucky shook the chains in pure anger trying in vain to free himself, “Get the fuck away from her,” he roared.

It was only when he turned around that Bucky realised it was Jack Rollins, second hand to Brock Rumlow who had participated in disciplining him during his time as the Winter Soldier. He wished his stomach didn’t twist the way it did when he locked eyes with Rollins.

He let out a dry laugh, “So you’re who Vincent has been dealing with?”

“Surprised to see me?” he smirked making his way over to stand in front of Bucky, “Everyone assumed I went down with Triskelion so I let them believe it. But I’ve just been here biding my time, waiting for the day you would show up. I knew Cap couldn’t let his Hydra vendetta go. I was counting on it.”

“And you assumed he would send me?” Bucky spat.

“I knew he would,” he smirked, “Her on the other hand she’s a bonus!”

Bucky again fought with his restraints, “If you fucking touch her-”

-”You won’t be here to see it,” Rollins grinned, “The other guy, the soldier will however, he may even join in.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to smirk, “He’s gone, the words don’t work anymore, there’s nothing you can do to torture him out of me anymore.”

“Oh I know,” Rollins smirked “You’ve been trained to withstand torture we saw to that,” he turned his attention back to you, “She however, hasn’t. In fact shall we wake her up?”

Bucky saw red and pulled so hard he nearly pulled his arms out of their sockets, but his arms would not come free. He had to simply watch in horror as Rollins threw a bucket of water over you and you gasped back to life, pulling on your own restraints, eyes widening in horror when you saw Bucky, suspended in front of you, before Rollins' face came into view.

“Nice of you to join the party sweetheart,” he smirked and you kicked your leg out in an attempt to connect with him.

Rollins laughed dryly “You see?” he turned to Bucky smirking “Feisty!”

“Fuck you,” you spat “Untie me and I’ll show you feisty.”

Rollins fisted his hand in your hair, forcing your head back, Bucky could see the goosebumps on your skin from the cold water Rollins had thrown on you, he was furious, you were still in the attire you had worn to the party, pink bra and barely there skirt, you had to be freezing, they didn’t even have the decency to cover you.

“You’re going to do something for me,” Rollins commanded.

You tried to yank your face away “I will do nothing for you,” you spat launching forward to plant a headbutt to his face, within seconds he had his hands around your throat, the chair swung back, and the two back legs were the only thing keeping it on the ground.

Bucky watched your legs kick out as you gasped for breath, but what he wasn’t prepared for was the scream that left your mouth to knock all the air out of his lungs, Rollins was holding against your bare torso a device that Bucky knew all too well, it had been used on him one too many times, the volts of electricity that were currently running through your body had been enough to bring him to his knees more than once.

As soon as the four legs hit the ground, you slumped forward, only the restraints kept you from falling forward entirely.

“Submit,” Rollins ordered and you shook your head weakly, “Submit,” he ordered again and you wearily pulled yourself back into place, “No.”

“You want to see her dance again?” he smirked and stuck the rod into your side again reveling in your screams as your body thrashed with the pain.

“Stop! Stop!” Bucky screamed, but Rollins simply drove the rod deeper into your side, your screams like a knife to Bucky’s chest, “Stop, please I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll yield. Just stop.”

He pulled the rod away from you, with a sick smirk and you slumped to the side. Bucky watched your chest rising and falling, a sheen of sweat covering your face and chest.

“Good,” he simply said “Now that I see you can be reasoned with, get some rest. I will be back to talk business soon. Lets give our girl a little chance to recover huh? I have great plans for the two of you- might have to break this one in a little more through,” he winked.

Bucky didn’t respond, his only interest was getting Rollins as far away from you as possible.

“Are you okay?” he tried after a while.

You simply nodded weakly, “Please y/n I need to hear you say it, I need you to talk to me.”

“I’m okay Buck.”

Buck, you had never called him that before.

“But if you for one second think I’m allowing you to give yourself to that creep, you have another thing coming.”

“Y/n-”

“- I can take it Bucky, whatever he does to me I can take, do you hear me? Do not offer yourself like that again. Do. You. Hear. Me?”

He nodded but he knew full well the second he had heard your scream he would rather die than watch you go through that again.

The aches in Bucky’s shoulder was turning to pain and the discomfort was evident on his face, you were assessing the situation. If you could just get out of your binds you could make it up to the chains holding him in place and free him too.

You tried standing a few times, you were shaky on your feet the first few times but you were determined.

“What are you doing?” Bucky tried but you ignored him.

When you felt like you could confidently stand, you took a deep breath, this was going to hurt like a bitch. Natasha had taught you this move on your second week of training, you had never managed to do it without immense pain, but if that meant freeing yourself to give you and Bucky a fighting chance, you were going to do it.

You sprung into action, running as fast as you could and propelling yourself into a summersault you landed down on your back, the chair collapsed in pieces and you lay winded for a few seconds before you could manage to wrangle free from the ropes that had bound your arms in place. Bucky couldn’t even process what he had just seen, he watched you push your left shoulder back into place, wincing slightly and he almost backed away when you made your way towards him.

“Are you okay?” you asked examining him carefully.

“Am I…Am I okay? Y/n are you? What the hell was that?” you huffed out a laugh and switched your attention to the chains over his head, “I need to get up there,” you motioned and he glanced up, he didn’t even get to respond before you were essentially climbing him like a tree, you felt his torso muscles tense when you came face to face, almost like he was holding his breath. You couldn’t help chance a look into his eyes, those worried cobalt eyes were boring back into yours and you swallowed thickly, arms locked around his neck and legs wrapped around his torso.

“You should have escaped,” he said, voice raspy.

“I’m not leaving without you,” you reassured “We’re both getting out of here.”

Bucky nodded and you continued your ascent upwards, the chains were clamped in an industrial clamp, it was locked and no matter how much you tried to pry it open it would not release, it was very clearly made to withstand Bucky’s strength. You slipped one of the heavy bangles off your wrist and unscrewed one of the ends Bucky watched in awe as a tiny blade appeared and you fidgeted with the lock a few seconds before you managed to pick it. The clamp opened and Bucky felt some relief as the pull loosened on his arms.

You plopped back down to the ground, and asked Bucky to pull as hard as he could and he cried out in relief when the chains pulled free from the ceiling.

Without a moments hesitation Bucky strode over to you clasped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours and you returned his kiss greedily, leaning your weight into him, as he snaked his arms around your waist.

“Do you think you can kick the door down?” you asked almost in a haze and he hummed with a nod of his head.

“We’ll have to fight our way out doll.”

“Ready when you are,” you nodded and he made quick work of busting down the door.

It was immediate hand to hand combat and Bucky managed to wrestle a gun from a guard and take out a few more along the way. You were in your bare feet trying to avoid getting your toes trampled on as you fought tooth and nail with a foot soldier who refused to go down, a shot to his shoulder from Bucky had him collapsing and allowed you to pass by.

“Where’s Rollins?” you shot to Bucky as the two of you escaped down a winding corridor, it almost seemed too easy.

Bucky took your hand in his and pulled you along beside him, ready to pounce at any second and finally he was kicking a door out into the fresh night air, and you were both running faster than you had ever run before.

You couldn’t risk going back to the safe house now that your cover was blown, and you didn’t stop running until you were fit to collapse, your body had been through significantly more than Bucky’s tonight.

He managed to hotwire a car and only once you had been driving for over an hour did you feel safe.

Bucky stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank and returned with a sweatshirt that said Louisiana on it, “I thought you’d be cold,” he said simply when your eyes softened at him.

“I spoke to Steve,” he added after a moment, “I used the phone in the store to call him, they’re going after Rollins, Nat got a hit on him, I have the coordinates for a safe house an hour an a half away so they’re going to meet us there tomorrow.”

You relaxed back into your seat, pulling the sweatshirt on.

Bucky collapsed onto the sofa in the safehouse and you rummaged for some food, in the cabinets, finding a box of mac n cheese and opting to make that for both of you, you both ate in silence. The shift in yours and Bucky’s relationship was thick in the air and you didn’t know how to broach it.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Bucky’s voice broke your trail of thoughts and you nodded with a small smile. You bit the inside of your cheek as you heard the water begin to run, before you could overthink it you followed him into the bathroom.

He was standing with his back turned to you, water dripping down his muscled back, and your mouth went dry, you slipped the Louisiana sweatshirt off and his deep voice commanded from nowhere, “Leave the outfit on,” you smirked and slipped into the shower in your shimmery costume, gasping when he pushed you up against the cool tiles of the shower wall.

“You have no idea what you do to me in those tight little outfits,” he groaned sliding his hand up under the skirt, “Watching your body move on stage, watching every man in the room want you, was driving me crazy.”

You panted head thrown back as his fingers continued to work their magic, and just as you were about to reach your release he pulled his fingers away, “All of them wanted you, but who did you want?”

“You Buck. Wanted you,” was just about all you could muster.

Suddenly, without warning he flipped you around and you had to put your hands against the tiles to brace yourself, his pace was ferocious, pounding into you, hands fisted into your hair, your palms against the tiles the only thing protecting your face from making contact with the wall. You cried out as he pounded, the sound echoing through the steamy room and he grunted as he came, releasing his hold on your hair and slowing his pace, and you winced as he pulled out.

He spun you around much more gently this time, removing your outfit gingerly and easing you under the water, he lathered his hands with soap and gently massaged your body.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he mused and you sighed contentedly, wrapping your arms around his neck, and leaning in for a kiss.

“Next time will be more gentle,” he mused running his hands tenderly up and down your waist.

“I’m ready when you are,” you smirked pecking his swollen lips.

Tagging:

@spookyparadisesheep @jbbarnesgirl @salvatoreitmeanssaviour@princesscornbread @loki-laufeyson-1054 @firstcashheroathlete @missvelvetsstuff nana1000night sapphire-rogers @sarahrogersevans @steverogerssimpp @spudinthemud @mrsragnarlodbrok @buckgasms @miss-patriciah-maximoff @hellomissmabel @knittingknerdy @shamvictoria11 @buckysberrie @assembletheimagines @dearthofequanimity @wellthatsrandomkek @mitra-k-w @nikkitia7 @fantasticimpaladoctor @feelmyroarrrr @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @andhiseyesweregreen @frickin-bats @buckyywiththegoodhair @iiharu-kunii @bellenuit45-blog @james-bionic-barnes @avengerofyourheart @jaegers-and-kaijus princess76179 brasspistol thelittleredrobinhood

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky smut #captain america x reader #bucky/reader #MCU fanfiction #mcu prompt #volklana writes

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Note

If Bakugou’s going to fuck you he’s going to fuck you. You know he’s never one to half ass anything.

Especially if he’s been gone for a couple weeks on hero business? Omg. Even if he’s older I’m sure he’s still got some incredible stamina. Y’all will go on like a fucking marathon when he gets back home.

Idk just thinking of him being so greedy, wanting you to cum over and over and over again. As many times as possible. Mostly because he loves just how fucked out you get. You’ve long lost your mind and all you can do is moan and whine and scream for him, beg for more. You’re babbling and only have half an idea of what you’re even fucking saying after a while.

You’ve clawed him up, he’s covered in hickies and bite marks, and you’re still game for another round. SHIT he loves you so much.

Him groaning in your ear, “That’s it, that’s my good girl,” when he feels you cumming on his cock again after however many times (you’ve both lost count). You’re wrecking each other and living for every single second of it

akofkvoqkgkvjwjengkvkkqnfvikawkgkv

It’s the way you KNOW he’s been thinking about it every day since he’s been gone too, fucking his fist in hotel bathrooms and imagining you there with him. Wishing you could’ve got the time off work to join him in this fancy hotel with the bath tub and shower that are too damn big for just him alone. He knows you’d be freaking out over all the room gadgets and making him take stupid mirror selfies.

@/crybaby-bkg wrote something before about Bakugou where he’s video calling reader and he’s so turned on by the simplest things like you could be chilling at home and because of the time difference he’s just crawling into bed at 2am, but the videos and lewds he’s got saved on his phone of you aren’t quite scratching that itch so he calls you and is all “show me a tit or somethin’” (I like vividly remember that dialogue this drabble was so fucking good), and you’re just laughing when it’s all it takes to have Bakugou cumming in his fist with a grunt and staining the sheets.

Like “Fuck, I’m gonna have to fuckin’ shower now,”

and you’re just laughing like “It’s not my fault you can’t wait to see me.”

“Yeah it fuckin’ is, woman.” He groans, “Don’t you wanna touch that little pussy for me?”

And now he’s video calling you in the hotel shower while you rub your clit on camera for him, fisting his cock (again) at the sight.

Blaming you that he’s rubbed his cock raw, and that he can’t wait to be buried back inside you when he goes home because nothing else compares. (And you think about buying him a silicone cocksleeve or fleshlight for next time)

And when he’s finally home the sex is primal, he’s doing everything to you that he’s thought about the last few weeks. And he’s not satisfied until you can’t feel your legs😫

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itslottiehere · 2 years

Text

you’re no good alone (h.s) - part one

hello beautiful people 🤍 i can’t believe this is happening lmao i’m so scared. here it is: my first writing. i’ve been writing for as long as i can remember, not necessarily fiction, but even random thoughts, journal entries, everything. i’ve always loved it, and always thought about sharing it with others, but never found the courage to do so. but the other night, i had an idea for a one shot and thought it was pretty nice, so i told myself to get over my insecurities and just go with it. what’s the worst that can happen, after all? so here you go, a little piece of me for all of you who want to take it <3

please do let me know what you think! my asks are open and you can send them anonymously as well, if you feel more comfortable. so, without further ado, happy reading!

tw: angst, prescription drugs and alcohol, swearing

word count: 2.6k

part 2 | part 3 | masterlist | let me know what u think here

—

this sucked.

they both knew this was inevitable, but it still sucked.

being apart sucked.

being broken up sucked.

it was a mutual choice: he was always away, she had to graduate college. he had meetings and tour dates and movie premieres to attend; she wasn’t going to throw away all her hard work, those brutal years of studying and exams to follow him. she wasn’t going to let her own life disappear into his.

they loved each other, but love wasn’t enough sometimes.

the fights seemed never ending. they would end up saying the same things over and over again, going in circles.

“I’m just asking you to think about it.”

“you’re asking me to disappear in your own life, and you know i won’t do that.”

“so what do you want to do, huh? what am I supposed to do when you don’t want to be with me?”

“i’ve never said that. i’ve just said that i’m not going to throw away everything i’ve worked for to follow you like a puppy while you succeed in your career, and i have to forget about mine. that does not sound like something so crazy to me.”

“so what? do I have to throw away everything i’ve worked for? is that it?”

“this is where we’re different, harry: i would’ve never asked you to do that.”

harry. she only called him harry when she was mad. she started calling him pet names almost ever since they met, once they became closer.

now they were as close as strangers.

the night they broke up the fight was along the same lines, but it ended up with her packing her bags and telling him she was really done this time, and that that was it for them. she couldn’t do it anymore, neither of them could. she looked at him, told him her last goodbye, and closed the door behind her, never to be seen again.

he didn’t even try to follow her. he knew that breaking up was the right choice. they were miserable when they were apart, miserable when they were together because there was always something to do. they just didn’t work anymore.

so here he was, sitting on his living room floor, two months after that night.

it was around 2am, bottle of scotch in his hand, some pills in the other. he popped a couple of them in his mouth, and took a long swing from the bottle.

he knew it wasn’t a smart idea, mixing alcohol and prescription drugs, but nothing else seemed to make his brain shut up, make his memories about her stop replaying in his mind for even a second.

he was tired.

memories of them haunted his dreams every night, making him wake up with cheeks sticky from the tears he didn’t even know he was shedding. he couldn’t remember a night when she wasn’t in his head.

god, he doesn’t even know if he lived a second in those two months without her on his mind.

his head started to feel lighter. good, fucking finally, he thought. but then he felt like an itch to his fingertips, and before he knew he had his phone in his hand, starting a call.

maybe she would answer?

the phone rings for a while. it was 2am, she probably wasn’t going to expect a call at this hour. was she going to hear the ringtone? he knew her phone was always on silent. maybe not this time. was she going to feel happy he called? or worried because of how late it was? or maybe annoyed because she was asleep and knew this was a late night drunk call?

fuck, if this is how loud his drunken mind was, you can imagine how it is when he’s sober.

his rambling thoughts are cut short by a voice answering: “hello?”

it was a male voice. he felt his heart dropping to his stomach. who was he? what was he doing with her phone? why was he answering? did she already move on? was he the only one who was still hang up on the way they were? was she happier now?

“harry? you there? why are you calling me at this hour, it’s 2 in the morning for pete’s sake”.

what? did the person on the other side of the phone know him? who was he?

he took away his phone from his ear, and glanced at the screen through blurry eyes that signalled that he was intoxicated.

he manages to understand the name of the contact he actually called, and croaked into the speaker: “mitch?”

“yeah dude it’s mitch, why do you sound surprised?”

“fuck. i-i didn’t mean to call you.” he slurred.

“harry, what’s going on? have you been drinking?”

“yup. and something else too.”

“did you take any pills? what kind?”

“just some stuff i found in the bathroom. they are working though, feel lighter already.”

“yeah i can hear that. but you still didn’t tell me who you wanted to call instead of me.”

he stays quiet. even speaking her name out loud hurt him. he couldn’t even bear to do that.

but mitch managed to put two and two together, and the answer was obvious.

“oh no harry. dude, you can’t do that to her. it’s been two months, she’s still grieving your relationship, what would she think if she picked up your call at 2 in the morning just to hear you drunk and high off your ass? you can’t do that to her, and you can’t do this to yourself as well. you can’t keep going like this.”

“don’t you think i know this, mitch? don’t you think i’m tired of feeling like this every single second?” he sighed.

his friend didn’t know what to do. he was at a loss of words, so they stayed silent for a while, when harry broke the silence.

“her last exam was on wednesday.”

“what?”

“her last exam, she took it on wednesday. she was already studying for it months ago, wanting to ace it. it’s her last one before her dissertation. i wanted to tell her good luck, couldn’t bring myself to do that. chickened out like the coward i am.”

“you’re not a coward, har-“

“i didn’t even bother to run after her, you know that? she walked out of my hotel room, bags in hand, looked at me for the last time and all i was able to do was to stand there, in the middle of the fucking room, while she walked out of my life. i couldn’t even bother to run after her, even for one last touch, one last goodbye, one last kiss. i was a coward then, and i’m a coward now.”

mitch thought about how long harry had to have been holding onto those thoughts. it’s been two months since he saw her as well, he caught a glimpse of her walking out the hotel lobby, shoulder shaking and sobs ripping from her throat. he couldn’t even reach her and ask her what was going on before she got it in the first taxi she saw and drove away from them, from harry.

he went into the hotel thinking that she and harry had had yet another fight, which has been happening a lot lately. he heard it — hell, all of them kept hearing them fighting, even though they pretended they didn’t.

so he walked through the lobby, got into an elevator and pressed the button to his floor. he thought about checking in on harry, just to make sure he was alright. what mitch wasn’t expecting was seeing his friend standing like a statue in the middle of the room, looking at the door like he had seen a ghost. he understood that this time the fight was worse than all the times before. he managed to make harry get into the bed, and decided to sleep on the little couch. they both didn’t get much sleep that night, one because of the uncomfortable couch, the other because of her perfume that lingered on the sheets, reminding him of everything he had lost.

“harry, do you want me to come over?”

“no, i’m fine, it’s all good.”

“no harry, it’s not. you’re no good alone now, i’m coming over.”

“no, mitch, seriously. i don’t want you here. if anyone should be here, it’s her. only her. this was her home too. she should be home.”

he asked her to move in with him a couple hundred times, he thinks. this was his home in london, he always though she should’ve lived there with him instead of her flat. it was a little further from her university, but nothing major.

she always told him no, but didn’t explain why. until one night, during one of the many fights, after he accused her of being afraid of making a commitment since she wouldn’t move in with him, she decided to say it.

“you really want to know why i’m not moving in with you?”

“yeah, i fucking do!”

“because i would end up being here by myself most of the time! because you’re never fucking here. how long have you been in america, huh? three, four months? and i should be living in this house, in what you say you want to make into our home, and just imagine the life we should be living while you’re away for months at a time? to mourn a life that we are probably never going to have? do you really despise me that much to wish me this?” she said as loudly as she could, her voice breaking just like her heart.

he hadn’t thought about this. of course, he thought that she would’ve been alone sometimes, but he actually thought that being in their home, she could find comfort.

his heart broke when he heard her insinuate that he despises her. how could he? he loved her, loved her more than life itself. he would never despise her. didn’t she know this?

that night ended up with harry driving her back to her flat, because she couldn’t stay there, claiming she had an early class and her place was closer to uni.

they both knew it was a lie, but neither of them decided to admit that out loud.

they played this game far too many times, and they ended up getting burnt.

“i know harry, i know you want her there. i wish things could be different.”

“yeah. so do i.”

“are you sure you don’t want me to come over? the hotel is about 20 minutes away, i can call an uber and be there in about a half hour, just say the word.”

“no, it’s fine. i need to be alone. guess i have to start learning how to be by myself now, don’t i?”

mitch sighed. he knew he was feeling sorry for himself, and maybe tonight he needed to do just that. and even though it broke him to ask him that, he couldn’t hang up without hearing it from him.

“you’re not going to call her right now, right?”

the line was silent.

“harry? answer me.”

again, silence was all he could hear.

“if you don’t answer me right now, i’m going to come over.”

“why shouldn’t i call her? what’s so wrong with wanting to hear her voice?”

“harry, we’ve just been over this. give me thirty minutes, i’ll be there.”

harry really didn’t want anyone around him right now, anyone that wasn’t her. but he understood that that wasn’t a possibility right now, so he interrupted mitch.

“no, it’s fine. i won’t call her. i promise.”

“harry, please stick to your word. do not call her. not like this. this version of you hasn’t a shot in hell at getting her back. but sober you might. don’t fuck it up.”

he thought about what mitch said, and even if his head was a bit floaty, he knew his friend was right.

“i know, i know, you’re right. i’m sorry i called you and woke you up. goodnight mitch, thank you for being my friend.”

“anytime dude, don’t worry. drink a big glass of water and go to bed now, please, goodnight harry.”

“bye.”

he saw mitch hung up, and his screen went back to show his home screen.

a knife plunged into his heart would’ve hurt less.

it was a picture of her at a carnival. he remembered that day, it was their second date, or perhaps their real first date.

they were actually on their way to a nice restaurant, when she saw the lights from the carnival and her eyes lit up just as bright. so what could harry do if not taking the next exit and take her there?

after about twenty tries at one of those stupid shooting games, both her and harry couldn’t manage to win the stuffie she wanted. so, while she went to look around for something to eat, he begged the vendor to sell him the price his girl so wanted.

his girl, she was his girl since the first moment he saw her.

so when she came back saying that she found a little place that seemed to have a rather large vegetarian menu (she knew he didn’t eat meat and wanted him to eat as well), she couldn’t understand why the hell he was smiling, with that smirk that only meant trouble.

“what’s up?”

“huh?”

“why are you making that face? what did you do? do i have something stuck in my teeth?” she started rambling, like she always did.

“no, no, nothing is in your teeth, i promise.” he smiled at her overthinking mind.

“alright.. so what is it?”

“close your eyes for me.”

“uhm, okay.. if when i open them i see a spider in front of me, just know that i will be walking home and never talk to you again. i’m telling you.”

“alright alright, i promise no spiders.” he cackled.

he put that bulbasaur plushie right in front of her, and told her to open her eyes.

the look she held in them, he couldn’t even describe. the purest look of happiness he has ever seen. then she looked at him and he was hit by the warmth of her gaze. she looked at him like he hang the stars in the sky for her, when all he did was getting her a carnival toy.

“oh my, oh my god, oh my god, how did you - when did- can i hold it please?” she couldn’t even get a complete sentence out, she was so utterly happy she couldn’t even think.

he handed it to her and she hugged it like it was her lifeline. she squinted her eyes closed and the biggest smile spread over her face.

harry had the same smile on his, dimples denting his cheeks. he took out his phone, having to capture this moment so he could look at it forever.

and ever since that night, that has been his lock screen. and he didn’t even think about changing it.

it made him remember that there was a time when all there was between them was so much happiness, so much love, adoration, and joy. and that they did love each other at one time. that he didn’t conjure up those memories, but that they were real, still are and forever will be.

that she really had looked at him with such warmth in her eyes, before she looked at him with nothing but sadness.

that he didn’t dream about her, but she was real and what they had was real.

before he could even process, his phone started ringing again.

but now it wasn’t mitch’s voice that came through the speaker.

“H?”

—

part 2

part 3

#harry styles #harry styles os #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry styles writing #my writing #already six minutes late #oopsie daisy #harry styles imagine

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blackdevilwhitedemon · 9 months

Text

Mari Lives AU

OwO? What's this? The 25th Mari Lives AU you've seen?

You bet your ass it is. And I got brain rot to air out. Okay, so these are notes straight out of my Google Docs'. I wanna write a couple chapters first before I start posting. I think I wrote my notes too neatly instead of line of consciousness like I usually do that I wanna post them here.

Okay so my idea is that Mari lives, they drag her to bed and she wakes up and gets them to call an ambulance but makes them swear on her version of events.

She tripped down the stairs while arguing bc she wasn’t paying attention and Basil walked in as she fell down the stairs. She’s so scared that they’re (CPS) gonna take away Sunny if anyone finds out he pushed her. Or that their parents will disown him.

When the ambulance comes Basil said the same things Mari does and Sunny goes non-verbal from stress and shock. He’s shielding Sunny.

At the hospital she’s told her ribs and spine took some hits and that she’s going to be wheelchair bound for a while. It’ll take months of phy therapy to regain the ability to walk. She’s not happy about this but at least her family is still together. And since no one but the 3 knew Sunny pushed her the others won’t hate him for this. They all think she fell on her own.

She just wants everything to stay the same.

Sunny doesn’t take the news well. He feels and thinks that he’s ruined his sister’s life. He’s convinced she’ll never walk again and that he's taken that away from her. He ends up having a mental breakdown soon after Mari is discharged from the hospital and gouges his right eye out with a spoon.

Mari is absolutely distraught and terrified over this and won’t leave her brother alone if she can help it after this.

Has a breakdown while Sunny is sleeping on her lap to Hero. She ends up yelling at him before calming down. Hero brings her away to get her to relax.

I imagine she has to use a cane after her physical therapy is mostly over and she relearns how to walk. She still has the wheelchair in case she is too tired or her back starts hurting or she pushes herself too much. I think she’d have those low back accessibility wheelchairs. And a foldable metal cane that pairs w/ her wheelchair and a glossy finish wooden one for her normal walking cane.

Above are the notes I initially made at like 2am and below are notes I made days later:

Okay so obv Mari needs her room moved to the first floor since she can’t get up the stairs anymore for a long time so the piano room is now her room (later her old room gets turned into a painting room for Sunny!). Sunny starts sleepwalking after his incident and at first it’s just him walking around in his room or walking to the door of the upstairs bathroom and waking up. One night when Mari was getting a glass of water, she noticed in the dim light that there’s a small figure standing at the top of the stairs. When he doesn’t react to her questions, she realizes he must be sleepwalking again. She starts getting worried and yells for him to wake up which he does alongside their parents who put him back to bed. This unlocks a new anxiety in Mari and one day gets a nightmare that Sunny sleepwalks to the top of the stairs and she’s at the base unable to get up to him and he crumples to the bottom. In the nightmare there’s a horrible sound when this happens and blood pools around him (skull cracked) and she just throws herself out of her wheelchair and screams as she holds him, unable to help. This deeply bothers her for days and she eventually voices this to Hero who suggests she should just ask that Sunny move to room with her like he does w/ Kel. Also the door would have a lock, she can keep an eye on him, and lastly could use the excuse to her parents that it’ll make it easier to have Sunny help her with tasks (she doesn't like how they’ve been making him do so much for her. She hates the infantilizing her parents are putting on her and thinks Sunny shouldn’t be forced to do so many chores rn. He isn’t in the right headspace for that [haha pun]).

Some small details I must put in are like Sunny having to cope/make up with his new lack of depth perception. At first there were some things he broke or damaged bc he’s having trouble judging the distance between the object he’s putting down and the surface he’s putting it on. So bc of this he kinda gets banned from the kitchen after destroying plates and cups on accident when having to make Mari her meals.

Also like Mari still trying to do things on her own and constantly trying to reach out to Sunny to like hold his hand or even give him a kiss to the forehead or cheek bc she’s scared for his well being and kinda neglects her own mental health in the process. Which leads that to fall on Hero which does eventually take a toll on him worrying about everyone so much but he pushes his feelings to the back so they can lean on him. He reasons at these tough times he has to be the ‘stable’ one. Like, isn’t that kinda his character? I think most write him like this.

(The siblings don’t get therapy for their mental health bc their father doesn’t believe in that stuff and would get deeply embarrassed and think it would be shameful if ppl hear they were going to it bc then his kids are ‘crazy’ or ‘smth’s wrong w/ them’. The mother doesn't agree w/ this but dad got the final say on this.) I may or may not be projecting cough cough. Man since I’m in the crowd that headcanons the siblings as Asian-Americans w/ shitty parents (dad is the Asian immigrant parent while mother is white or white-mixed? ) imma project so much baby!

Which leads into the fact I have a cooking scene planned! Mari, Sunny, and Hero try their hand in cooking rendang since Mari has this southeast-asian cookbook she got as a gift (yes im ref-ing the one I have irl. Also shut up, im projecting and it’s like my fav food DON'T TOUCH ME!) and wants to try smth. She picks at random. She gives Sunny very easy tasks to help them. And she notices how slow and controlled Sunny is when put things to the counter and it makes her heart clench that he’s so focused on it and scared to mess things up. She’s more eye level with the counter so she’s doing all the measuring. Just needs to tilt her head to read the numbers ez. Anytime she backs up she makes sure to look behind her so she doesn’t run over the boys. Maybe make a funny and that the end result dish is meh bc they used a bad cheap brand of coconut milk. (idk I never cooked my mother did all that)

Also in this AU, Basil is always hanging at their place bc Sunny only talks verbally by whispering in Basil’s or Mari’s ear. He’s only signs nowadays which makes Mari sad bc he made so much progress over the years with talking verbally to his friends and now it’s back to square one like when they first moved to Faraway Town (w/ the expectation of Basil since he knows).

Some small things of note are like Basil getting real close w/ Sunny now and Kel kinda feeling left out (they are 12).

Earlier on Sunny has a point where he tries to avoid touching Mari as much as possible which she def notices and shakes Basil down for details bc she knows they’ve been stuck together like pb&j recently. Eventually he conceits that Sunny is scared of hurting her anymore/again and this breaks her heart. She straightens things out by sitting her brother down and talking to him. I want this to be a heart to heart scene. If I'm not sobbing when writing then what’s the point?

For later chapters I want Sunny to start coping by painting. But hehe, he’s not painting cute things. Spooky things, creepy, scary, gorey, whatever you get the point. It’s like how he gets his emotions and worries and frustrations out. His way of venting (more healthily!). Ofc there are some more ‘normal’ things he takes to painting. Like landscapes and ppl on hills, or ballerinas, just flowy fabric stuff. It’s calming for him. And what he can show to others/family. (Basil gets to see all his art and is kinda off put by it at first but kinda shakes it off for Sunny’s sake. When Mari finds out, Sunny gets upset bc he thinks she’ll react badly bc he knows their parents would but she just kinda brushes it off bc if it makes her brother happy or is therapeutic then she has no qualms. As long as it’s not physically harming him.)

Below are snippets from a discord convo I had w/ a friend after I showed her my notes and she helped me bounce some ideas! (Friend-Red) (Me-Orange)

I think Mari’s lack of going out and about should start to slowly ruin Mari and Aubrey’s friendship. Aubrey wants to play with the two but because Sunny is basically mute and Mari is wheelchair bound, they can’t really. And this leads to Aubrey becoming the bad bitch she is when she gets older?

Omg true. Mari can’t go out to play anymore/it’s hard to bc it’s difficult to push her wheelchair in non-concrete areas especially since her arms aren’t used to it yet.

Sunny shuts down for awhile and when he starts to feel better he doesn’t speak to her anymore and maybe bc he still whispers to basil and mari she takes it personally?

Hero and Basil are often at the siblings house, Kel really the only ones that’s sticking around her in her pov

I think maybe Kim should befriend her during these times too and it’ll be a trio of her, Kim, and Kel until the others start joining them again

You planning to keep the Aubrey/Sunny crush thing around or you gonna shift it to her crushing on Kel? 👀 I know Aubrey and kel are fairly popular ship. Enemies to lovers type beat

I didn’t think about that. I was gonna be tagging this fic with Mari/Hero bc I am basic and proud and minor sunflower (basil/Sunny) but it won’t be much besides like implying that basil has a crush on him and Sunny is like kinda codependent? They are 12 so nothing serious XD as for Aubrey,,, maybe

Smth like she feels more betrayed because she had a crush on him and he’s not relying on her? And she knew that he liked her back

#my writing #text post #textpost #omori #omori au #mari lives au #heromari #omori sunflower #like lightly implied #marihero #mari lives #tw injury

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