#maybe even bonnie too like fucking hell
Text
I thought of this before in passing but it's really just hit me that oh my god if any of the current animatronics knew Foxy well enough before everything that happened, and Roxy didn't know about that stuff, then a good chunk of them would have been lying to Roxy by omission this entire fucking time
#you can't really blame them#but roxy certainly can and would#only applicable if they spent enough time with him to know what was going on#just. oh my god she'd be fucking furious#chica is completely exempt from this as she never met him#she's not much older than roxy after all. she never had a chance to know this stuff#but oh my god I've had monty be his friend for a while now and never realised this#if roxy doesn't know then he's lied by omission this whole time#so has freddy and possibly sunny and/or moon#maybe even bonnie too like fucking hell#I'm gonna say DJ didn't know the whole story despite knowing him#just oh my god??? i didn't realise I'd set it up like this???#it's only just sunk in... like damn... I'm so sorry i did this to you roxy I didn't even mean to this time#oh my goddddddd what is. i just. roxy... they didn't tell her???? this whole time???#maybe they thought it'd be better this way or it was too painful and they were waiting for her to ask about it#cause she clearly didn't wanna know beforehand!!! i dunno man this is. wow. crazy#fucking WILD
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
sniffles sadly. every day im so sad that fnaf didnt go with placing vanny into aftons role.... god forbid women do anything ! ! !
#just saw gtlive finish the first ending n like. urgh#maybe if i liked eclipse more i wouldnt mind how prevalent they r but woof man#like i get it its charlie and evil baby or whatever in the same body but come onnnnn#that and the candy cadet stories just bashing the same kid going into woods framework into the ground#i miss when it was like. this dude sewed 5 kittens together! this lady melted 7 keys! stuff like that yk that was different and scarier#i do rlly think the series is going toward this like polished marketable thing instead of the grimy sludge i liked .... </3 and the AI stuf#is sooooo boring like fuuuuck its so boring. i wouldnt mind if its charliebots bc at least theyre interesting !!!!#but mimic as the new villian? bro. dude. thats so boring come on... afton was interesting bc he was fucked up severly#and robots r just like. theyre just robots dude its not even scary its just a thing being programmed smh#without the afton behind it its kinda just ..... bleh#honestly i wish they would cap the story? like make vanny take aftons role; do some shit; end it in a tragic but cathartic way#and then if they want to make more games do either other families in universe (like fazbear frights) or prequels/ world building shit like#something set in circus babys pizza world or w/e .i mean you could argue its about cassie now but if her dad is bonnie bro we're still stuc#in the afton central place. and i dont like that hteyre moving on without wrapping up the 102938120 loose ends they already made URGH ! !#is it too much to ask for a fnaf game thats crusty round the edges and really metaphorical for theorists to dig into but logical enough it#can be solved and also creates a good plotline . yeah i guess hell will freeze over before that#d.txt#sorry im sooooo normal about fnaf <- is abnormal. fuhnaffs theories r GREAT thoguh i love that guy he makes me happy about the franchise :o
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley x f reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
Sooooo, about that idea 😂😂 I'm sure you already know where this is going 👀👀
Adam and reader casually talking about something and they get to the subject of being together somehow even after death, how it would or should go if either of them dies and reader just goes: "Well, I definitely wouldn't move on if you died (Oup-). I don't think I would be able to... " and Adam just looks at him with a bewildered look and goes: "Fuck you mean 'If I died you wouldn't move on'??YOU'RE MY HUSBAND, IF I'M DYING, YOU'RE DYING. WITH. ME. AIN'T NO CHOICE! WE ARE MARRIEEEEED, WE GON' DO EVERYTHING TOGETHER AND IF THAT INVOLVES DYING THEN SO HELP ME HOLY FATHER, YOUR SPICY ASS IS GOING WITH ME". Originally I thought about the reader to say all of that, but then I just thought: No, hold on, that's such an Adam thing to say 😂😂
I swear Adam's so full of himself he'd simply be offended that reader's first intention wasn't "We're ride or die babe, if you die, I die with you" lmao
Baby we could be Bonnie & Clyde
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, talking about death, slightly cracky
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
“What’s up, buttercup,” Adam hummed as he sat down next to you on the bed. The thoughts of the upcoming extermination weren't sitting right with you, it was really nothing more than a gut feeling but something told you that Adam and you should skip extermination day this year. And maybe that was part of the reason why you've been so quiet all day, maybe not, who knew.
Well, Adam seemed to at least know that something was bothering you.
You rested your head against his upper arm and sighed, maybe talking would get it off your chest for a moment, talking to Adam about the things that bothered you often helped. “I wanna skip extermination this year,” you started, you weren't able to look at your husband, not that you were afraid of his reaction but you knew how much that day meant to him as the leader of the exorcists. “Why?” was all the brunette asked as his wing softly wrapped itself around your back, the tip of his feathers were therefore resting on your thighs, not that you minded.
Yeah, why was a damn good question. Because of some stupid fucking gut feeling wasn't exactly the answer you wanted to give but it was all you had that came close to a reason so you said that. Adam remained silent for a moment, he seemed to be genuinely thinking about a response. “I get it,” he then mumbled and that made you peek up to him with curious eyes. You wouldn't have thought he did, or maybe he just said it to ease your mind a little. “Before my first extermination I was so fucking nervous,” the first man continued with a soft chuckle rumbling through his body and his arm came up to softly caress your shoulder, “I mean every time we go down there my life's on the line, and not just fucking mine but the lives of my chicks too.” Yeah, you assumed he was right. “I mean, it's not like these demon bitches would fight back or shit, but, y’know, they could, so what if they quit being fucking bitches and hurt my ladies? They're not going to, but they fucking could and-” he paused for a moment, took a deep breath as his eyes focused on the wall across the bed, “and that's fucking scary.”
Had Adam just admitted that he was scared of something? That he was scared of the demons in hell fighting back? It seemed that way. “I don't think I'd be able to move on if they'd kill ya,” your voice was quiet, shaking and far from sounding stable. Adam's eyes moved from the wall to you, an offended look in them, “The fuck you mean ‘you wouldn't be able to move on?” You backed off a little in order to look at him properly, “Y’know, I don't think I'd be able to ever be happy again.”
The first man grabbed your shoulders and shook you lightly, playfully, yet his eyes were dead serious when he spoke, “You’re my fucking husband, if I die you're dying with me, ain't no fucking choice.” You frowned a little at his words, but now that you thought about it dying with him sounded better than grieving his death for all of eternity. Your wing nudged his shoulder playfully and you replied, “Yeah well, that offer wasn't on the fucking table.” That caused a grin to erupt on his face and he pressed your upper body backwards until your back was flush against the mattress, “Yeah well, fuck whatever offer’s on the table and what's not, we're fucking married bitch.” His face came close to yours as he leaned down and for a brief moment you thought he was going to steal a kiss from you, but then his lips moved to your nape instead, “We’re gonna do everything together and if that involves dying, then holy father help me, your spicy ass is coming with me and if I have to drag you with me personally,” he paused to press a kiss to your jaw, his teeth softly scraping against your skin before he continued, “Then fuck, I fucking will, you got that?”
A laughter bubbled up from your chest at that and you grabbed onto his shoulders to flip you both over, now you were on top of him, “When the fuck did I sign up for a double homicide, huh?” He grinned up at you from below as his hands slid down your sides to come rest on your hips, “When you signed the fucking papers to marry me, slipped in a little contract that said your ass belongs to me and that you have to fucking die with me.” You pretended to punch his chest as you chuckled, “Fuck you, bitch.” Adam's grin only widened at that as he cheekily shot back a, “Do it yourself, you fucking coward.”
If he was inviting you so nicely, who were you to reject?
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
bets made (and mistakes happened) - a restaurant au
john 'soap' mactavish
cw: restaurant!au, one night stand, smut/pwp, cocky!soap, bets/wagers, dirty talk enemies-to-lovers, (accidental) pregnancy, semi-long
bunny says: like this fic? leave a comment! really like this fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!
you could stand toe to toe with whoever got in your way. you REFUSED to be talked down to like a dog. you were a good sous chef, you didn't need the guy who washed the dishes to tell you how to do your job! you could've KILLED john.
and he probably would've let you. he wanted to see those blunt nails of yours dig into his throat. he'd take it as a challenge and give you the same energy. he'd probably grin as you like a madman before he could finally sink his teeth into you. he had been wanting to for years.
so in order to keep some semblance of peace in the kitchen, chef price sent you two out in the back for a smoke. you sat on the milk crate near the door and john pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
"i like yer fire." he said.
"i wish you'd go to hell." you replied.
he chuckled and shook his head, "yer too sweet. i'm surprised you didn't poison me when you had to show tonight's dishes to the rest of staff."
"i didn't expect you to count as staff. it was meant for the other cooks."
he put his hands on his hips, apron on and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth he tilted his head to the side and chuckled, "i'm staff, bonnie. more of the backbone than you are."
you stood up, and got close to him. you were facing each other and painfully close. you plucked the cigarette out of his mouth before you took a inhale of it. he looked at you in shock as you placed it back in his mouth. you turned away from him and said, "how about this, soap. you come to my place, we see who's the better cook."
he stood up a little taller and asked, "what do i get when i win?"
you narrowed his eyes at his words, you amped up the stakes. you replied simply, "i'll let you sleep with me."
the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth from the shock. he soon took it out his mouth and exhaled, "nah, nah. really, what is it?" there was a smile on his face. he leaned in a little bit to you.
"i told you... you, me, sex. do i need to spell it out for you?"
he laughed, "oh yeah. that's a good prize, that sweet cunt." he closed the gap between you two and took your chin in his hand, he held his cigarette in the other, "deal. maybe i can finally put ya in yer place. talkin' big game for such a little girl." he shook his head. he pulled away to have another drag of his cigarette.
-
the first thing you noticed at the end of the week. john 'soap' mactavish didn't taste like an ashtray when he kissed you. currently it was friday night, the only night you two had off, and john had just won your little bet.
he had you up on the kitchen table with his hand spread out on your thigh, pushing up your dress. his lips were on yours and you tried your best to NOT melt into the kiss.
when he pulled away he pressed his forehead to you and said, "how was that?"
"it's a bet, it shouldn't matter how i feel." you replied as you kept your arms around him. his laugh pulled something in you when you were so close to him.
you expected him to make some pasta with packaged noodles and a jar of sauce. you had seen what lunches he brought. but instead in your tiny apartment, he made you a scotch pie with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth the entire time. even with the ash, it was still the best thing you had ever tasted.
he knew he won because you couldn't hide the expression on your face fast enough after the first bite. when he laughed,you hit him then went in for seconds. who would've thought the annoying dishwasher could cook this.
"how?" you asked.
he put a finger over his lips, "family secrets. only shared through marriage, doll."
after the meal, then he took his dessert. his winnings from your bet. and in all fairness, if/when he was going to fuck you, he'd rather he did with after you had a good meal. it was going to be quite the energy waster.
you broke the kiss and looked at him, those big blue eyes stared back at you. you held his face for a moment to stop him from leaning in again. you said, "i'm not fucking on a table i got from goodwill."
he chuckled, "of course, my majesty. would you like for me to fluff the pillows first." then made a noise when you squeezed his face.
"i'm saying because the fucking thing will break." then let go of him. he backed up enough for you to get off the furniture and head towards the bedroom.
he trailed behind you, his cock stood at full attention in his jeans as he get his first glimpse of your bedroom. while he noticed that there wasn't much life to the decor of the walls. he did notice that your bed was unmade and looked very comfy.
but what drew his attention was the sight of you undressing. he watched you zip down the button of the dress. you stepped out of it then quickly got your underwear off. he was barely out of his socks by the time you were naked. your curves glowed under the light of the city outside.
you sighed and approached him, "i guess i have to do everything, huh?"
he was brought back to reality and stepped back, "you don't have to do shit, love. i just need you to lie there and look pretty. if you really wanted to put on a show, make the girls bounce a little." he chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. he showed off his lean body and caught you staring a moment before he went to his jeans.
soon both of you were naked, and you led him onto your bed. you kicked the covers further down the mattress as you laid in bed with the other man. you kissed once more trying hard not to fall for him with each linger of his fingertips across your back.
he held you like a protective force, even if his words were often biting. he wanted you. in a carnal, lustful kind of way. the kind that sent shivers down your spine.
his hands roamed your backside, his cock twitched against your thigh as you continued to make out with him. finally that cocky mouth of his was quiet.
you pulled away soon after and placed both hands on his chest. he looked up at your curiously and you gazed down at him. those blue eyes were like dark like rocky seas as you rubbed your knee up against his cock. he hissed through his teeth.
"careful, doll." he said quietly.
you held his face once more and gave him one last kiss before you moved away and got into his lap. your ass rubbed against his cock. the sensation made him exhale deeply to try and hold back a moan.
he placed his tattooed hands on your hips. you always did find his tattoos quite appealing. you did have a dream once where he was shoving those digits inside of your pussy. at the time it made you want to put bleach in your eyes. but now... you were second guessing it.
"like this?" you asked.
"oh yeah. i love a good girl on top." he purred as the two of you began to move your bodies against one another. his eyes closed for a moment as he pressed his head into your pillow. he was drowning in the scent of the strawberry shampoo you used often. he could get whiffs of it at work when you walked by, but to be smothered in it made his cock hard.
you placed your hands on his chest and leaned forward so his cock was pushed inside of you at an angle. you panted which was accompanied by his own heavy breathing.
"feel real good. like a glove." he said, heavy on the accent, "like two pieces the same puzzle. you and i, doll, are meant to be."
"one night." you affirmed.
he chuckled as he dug his fingers further into your hips. he watched you take all of his cock and replied, "that's what they all day." before he started to meet your pace more aggressively.
the bed creaked from your movements. the heavy thrusting of sex in the cramped room of your one bedroom apartment. you funded this life through cooking and you got out cooked by a dishwasher.
you should hang the apron up already!
the thought made john smirked as he felt his cock deep inside of you. he wondered for a moment if you could still run a kitchen while caring for his brats. but that thought was pushed away from the intense rush of pleasure through his body. made his head feel full as he got closer to orgasm.
"shit, soap. ah." you moaned.
he gave your ass a slap and chuckled, the sweat dripped down his back, "you can't get enough of me. you just love it so much. you love me."
you groaned, "in your dreams." the sex was amazing. you could feel the sweat on your brow as you rutted against him. your nails dug into his pecks as you moved.
he hissed through his teeth and drove his cock deeper into you. he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. nothing like a feisty chef to get his blood pumping! with a spark on inspiration, he took you by the hips and rolled you onto your stomach.
he lifted your hips up with ease and pounded away at your cunt with vigor. the angle took the air out of your lungs, you could feel his ramming against sensitive areas. your legs were practically in the air!
the angle was amazing for both of you and soon you were gripping onto the mattress under your head.
"who would've thought scotch pie would've let me fuck ya." he laughed as he scratched at your hips due to the force he was holding you.
"shut up!" you whined as your back arched. with a few more stokes of his cock, you both came. your mind went blank. you came so hard that you honestly forgot that he wasn't wearing a condom and had dumped a bunch of his scottish seed into your aching cunt.
this wouldn't be a problem later, right?
-
a month later you're sitting on top of the toliet with a pregnancy test in hand. your hand over your mouth as you watched the test read positive.
for a second you tried to rationalize that it COULDN'T have been john who got you pregnant. not that blue-eyed, mohawk having, smug dishwasher! but you sure as hell weren't pregnant before your night together.
you pulled your hand away from your face and putt he test down on the counter. you cupped your middle and sighed. you had no choice but to tell john about it. he was going to find out eventually.
you sent him a text message, 'soap. need to talk. urgent." then put the phone down. instantly you were on the phone with him, when you heard his voice you broke down. the normally cocky john sounded sincere as he asked what was wrong. you composed yourself for a moment and wiped your eyes and said, "you are your stupid scottish cock got me pregnant."
there was silence on the other end for a moment. he then said, "anythin' ya need, doll. it's yours."
you swallowed and replied, "you and some more scotch pie." you felt your heart do a somersault.
"ay." he said, "already got the scottish in ya."
xoxo,
bunny
(might do a sequel, let me know!)
#soap call of duty#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap cod#john soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish#call of duty smut#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#soap smut#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap x reader#john soap mctavish x you#bunny babbles#restaurant au#reader insert#cod smut
180 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Challenge part 2
Honestly, you forgot entirely about the challenge the next morning.
Rolling out of bed with a pounding headache, you showered quickly and tried your damdest to recover from the hangover with copious amounts of coffee. Training today would be absolute hell.
"Oi, bonnie!"
Nevermind, it seemed you couldn't even make it to training without encountering problems.
Soap bounded into the rec room, looking far too happy for a man who had drank his weight in beer only hours beforehand. Somehow even his footsteps were loud, not to mention his voice.
"Interesting night, eh?" He called, sliding up next to you where you had- rather ungraciously- flopped onto a couch. "Ooch, seems like someone cant handle their drinks well. Need your old boy to help, maybe give you a massage-"
"Stop sucking up," Gaz called, walking into the room. He too seemed fairly put together, although how they were managing this act was astounding to you. "Coddling her wont make this any easier." He took a seat on the couch across from where you and soap were sitting, studying you carefully.
"Ugh, 'ave a little fun eh?" Soap laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "The boys 'n I were talkin' last night, agreed we should set some rules up. Make this a bit easier, hm?"
You just stared at the two of them like they were idioits.
"I'm sorry- what are we talking about?" You asked, sliding away from Soap's playful grasp.
"The bet you made last night." Price and Ghost walked into the room at the exact same time, one smoking and the other holding a water bottle, just getting back from a workout. You had to figure out how the fuck these guys were functioning right now.
"Don't tell me you forgot?" Price asked, looking at you down his nose. All of a sudden the previous night rushed back to you- the singing and dancing on stage, telling the others you had been in theater as a teen.
Making that stupid fucking bet.
"Oh- you cant have been serious about that? I was drunk, I didn't really mean that-"
"Oh no darlin', don't go backing out now." Simon said, leaning against the counter. "Your word is your word, and we had a deal. Whoever finds ten photos of you, all taken before your junior year of highschool, gets to have you as their little plaything for a day."
Various murmurs of agreement come up around the room, and its then that you realize exactly what it is that you've set yourself up for.
"Quite honestly, sweetheart, I don't think any of us are backing down. It's a fairly simple challenge, anyways." Price smiled, and moved to stand right in front of you. His voice dropped to a sultry rumble, that you felt in the deepest corners of your body. "I mean, if I can say, I'm almost a hundred percent certain I'll have you tailing me around base by this time next week." He blew the smoke from his cigarette around your face, and winked at you. "See you at training, darling."
For what felt like forever, you sat on the couch dumbfounded at his obvious attempts at flirting. Slowly, the other three filed out of the room, moving to do their own daily routines.
Soap crouched in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face. "Don't mind em' yea? He'll keep. 'Sides, I promise when I get my way with you I won't be nearly as rough." He laughed and stood, patting you on your head.
"See yer at training, lass!"
Fucking hell.
My Masterlist
#cod x reader#poly 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#simon riley x reader#poly 141#simon ghost x reader#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
294 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Year, New You Part 7
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader
Personal Trainer AU
4.2k words
CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, gaslighting
Part 1, 6, 8
You begin to drift up from a deep slumber, your head hurts and the room is too bright, you can tell even through your closed lids that the room is filled with an ungodly amount of sunlight. Had you forgotten to close the curtains before bed? Very unlike you but not an impossibility. You sure as hell were regretting it now though.
You were also still very drowsy, you can’t ever remember waking up this sleepy. Maybe you’ll rest your eyes for a bit longer.
You stir in your sleep, tongue moving over the roof of your mouth, it’s dry as sand. But you don’t want to get water, you’re still so tired and your head, Fuck! Your head kills. Maybe you could get up and get some water, close those damn curtains while you’re at it.
Your eyelids feel like they’re glued closed. One hand comes up to shield your eyes while the other rubs the crustated sleep from the corners of them. Your vision clears, and you're squinting but your eyes are open. You lift your head just slightly and examine the room.
It’s not your room, but it’s familiar. Like a room you’ve seen in a dream. Were you dreaming? Had to be. This wasn't your room. Everything blurs and you blink your eyes, your dream eyes, to clear your vision. It helps. You’re lying in bed, not your bed but the dream bed. The duvet is dark blue, it’s familiar but from where is far from even the tip of your tongue.
The room is neat, there's a dark wood dresser in the corner, a pull up bar and a stand with dumbbells progressing in weight off to the side. You turn your head to see a digital alarm clock, it reads 9:48. Fuck! 9:48?!? You’re late for work. That gets you moving, you sit up but it’s too fast and your headache triples as the world begins to spin. The dream bubble pops. Not a dream after all, but still not your room.
You recover but slowly as the room gradually stops spinning. Where were you? It looked familiar, but you still couldn’t place it. What happened last night? It’s very hazy. Nancy, you can remember that much. You had gone out with Nancy, everything else might as well had been a dream for as much as you could recall of it.
Someone was in this house with you, you could smell something delicious in the air and your stomach growled its approval. You groan and put a hand to your forehead. You needed water immediately. You stare down at the bed, dark blue, a deep navy shade. A memory, hazy, begins to come forth. Your pounding head is slow processing it, it rises to the surface from the depths of your murky brain. Your dry mouth falls open just as the door swings inward and just as your recollection had summoned him, here he was, huge grin on his face and a glass of cold orange juice in hand.
“Bonnie!” You wince at his volume and he tenses up, quieting down and even stepping lighter, trying his hardest to not pain you. “Sorry, lass. Ye might be a bit woozy. Had a helluva night last night.” You must be dreaming, but you’re not. You know you’re not.
You start to say his name but all that comes out is croaky garbles. “Here, drink this.” He hands you the glass and you’ve never coveted a glass of orange juice so hard in your life. You take huge, greedy gulps and when the juice runs over the dried strip of leather that had become your tongue you nearly cry from the joy of it. You downed half the glass and heard him from beyond it. “Easy, hen. Drink slow. Ye can have as much as ye want.”
You reluctantly pull the glass from your lips and lick them, the saliva that had burst forth from your mouth now that you’d had something to drink was overflowing and you wondered how you could have produced so much in such a short amount of time if you had been so extremely parched just moments ago.
With it under control you made another attempt at speaking. “Johnny? What’s going on?” He took the glass from your hand and set it down on the nightstand next to the bed. “Well lass, ye had a bit too much tae drink I’d say. I’m no doctor hen, but if ah’m nae mistaken I’d have tae say maybe there was a bit more to it than jus’ that.”
You definitely had had too much to drink last night. But had you? You certainly don’t remember drinking in excess but then again you couldn’t really remember much of anything about last night. Wait, what did he just say? “What do you mean Johnny?”
“Well hen, I’m no expert, but I’d say maybe ye weren’t watchin’ yer drinks too closely and I’d say maybe someone might’ve spiked ye.” What? Spiked you, like roofies or something? That can’t be. Can it? But fuck your head did hurt something unnatural.
“Ahh fuck, Johnny. I’m late for work, I’ve gotta go.” You begin to pull back the covers and get up when you notice you’re naked from the waist down. “Johnny! What the fuck! Where are my pants?”
“Jus’ slow down there, hen. First of all ye dinnae need tae worry about work, I’ve already called in tae say ye won’t be comin’ in today. Yer in no condition fer it and as yer personal trainer I took it upon mahself tae take care of ye in yer time of need. Dinnae worry, Johnny’s gotcha.”
You groan as the headache throbs back into focus with a vengeance. You have sooo many questions, like how did you get here? How did he find you? What happened? How does he know where you work and how did he call into your work and use one of your sick days for you? They swirl behind your eyes, pulsing in time with the throb of your head and instead of asking all of them like you should, you just don’t. There’ll be plenty of time for questions later.
Instead you grab again for the glass of juice and down it. With it empty he takes it from you and stands. “I’ll get ye some more, are ye hungry?” The question reawakens the grumbling earthquake in your belly and you look up at him and nod. He smiles and says nothing just turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
You sit in place for a moment, staring down at the bed and trying to get a grip on your memories of last night. You remember Nancy suggesting the two of you go out, you remember not wanting to, you remember getting ready and getting in the cab anyway and then it all takes on a fuzzy, unreal feel, like a dream instead of something that actually occurred.
You remember drinking and dancing but not much else. The watch on your wrist vibrates and it surprises you, you’re not sure why, you’ve only taken it off a handful of times to charge it but there’s something about it, a piece of knowledge floating on a cloud above you, refusing to grace you with its enlightenment.
You have a look through it, see the text notifications from Nancy.
“Where are you!” 12:29 am
“Are you alright?” 12:35 am
“Ok well, Thanks for coming out tonight, it was fun!” 12:44 am
“See you tomorrow ☺️” 12:47am
“Sure, you have like a dozen of them, I’ll let Mrs. Magna know. don’t worry about it.” 6:45am
All of her replies were there as notifications, but with only her half of the conversation at your fingertips you could only imagine what was said. You assume you told her something about leaving and then the last text was about not coming into work today but you certainly weren’t up at six in the morning, you didn’t feel like you were working off of only three hours of sleep.
You had to find your phone and see the rest of the texts. You got out of bed and remembered you were naked from the waist down. In all your confusion you’d forgotten to make him explain that detail, you’d have to ask him again later.
You stood and made your way over to the dresser, pulling the top drawer open and found a neatly folded stack of boxers and socks, not what you were looking for. The next was full of shirts, also of no use to you. The third drawer down you found what you were searching for. Pulling out a pair of sweatpants you pulled them up and around your waist.
Ok, that’s one thing taken care of, now you need to locate your clutch. You look around the room, on the other side of the bed, open the two other doors in the room Johnny didn’t leave through to find a bathroom and a closet. It’s in the closet you find it but still not your pants, they must be somewhere else. You pull the phone from it and immediately begin to go through your messages.
Nancy is the only person you’ve messaged in the last twenty four hours and the conversation is foreign. The first text is from Nancy asking where you are and you had replied
“Goin’ home.” 12:32 am
That’s it? That’s all you said? That doesn’t sound like a text you would write, you’d add more detail and reassure her that you’re ok. You decide to read out the whole thing.
“Where are you!” 12:29 am
“Goin’ home.” 12:32am
“Are you alright?” 12:35 am
“Fine, just had too much to drink.” 12:42am
“Ok well, Thanks for coming out tonight, it was fun!” 12:44 am
“Oh yeah, so much fun!” 12:45am
“See you tomorrow ☺️” 12:47am
“Nancy, I won’t be coming in to work today. Can’t stop getting sick. Feel so bad. Just can’t get out of bed. Can I use one of my designated sick days?” 6:30am
“Sure, you have like a dozen of them, I’ll let Mrs. Magna know. don’t worry about it.” 6:45am
???? You don’t text like that? It’s all so short hand and formal. Did Nancy really not notice how unlike you these texts were? Of course she didn’t, she was as drunk as you were.
You lock your phone as you hear him approaching the door and slip it into the pocket of your sweats. He walks in and stops in the doorway, a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. You think for a moment he may drop them but he seems to recover and sets them down on the nightstand and rushes over to you.
You are immobilized with shock as he grabs you, hands sliding down your legs, planting his firm palms on the globes of your ass and lifting. You can feel the pure strength he possesses as he pulls you up his body and into his arms with no assistance from you whatsoever. Your mouth parts in surprise and he takes the opportunity to seize your lips with his, tongue slipping inside and melting to yours.
It felt good, his lips against yours after so long, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed it until they were upon you again and for just a moment you let yourself be lost to it. Your watch beeped and you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled away, embarrassed at being ousted once again by it.
You wanted to slip out of his arms but he held you steady, his mouth moved to your ear with a slow trail of kisses. When he reached it he whispered into it. “Did he miss me, hen? Cause I missed you.” He gently lowered your body down his until your ass nudged something hard, his erection prodding you eagerly.
“Jus’ cannae help it, hen. Saw ye wearing’ mah sweats an’ just about took ye right there against the dresser. Gonna give a man a heart attack surprisin’ me like that.” You let out a surprised little gasp as he nipped at the shell of your ear. “But there’ll be plenty of time for that later. My lass is hungry isn’t she?”
You nodded, the angry pit that had become your stomach crying out at the mention of food. He let you down and followed you back to the bed, the surface dipped as you both sat onto its plush surface. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate he’d carried in.
Sitting atop it were two round things, they looked sort of like huge meatballs. You looked up at him curiously. He simply picked one up off the plate and handed it to you. “Try it.” Hesitantly you picked yours up. It was crisp to the touch and smelled faintly like oil. Definitely deep fried whatever it was. You looked up at him once more and he nodded encouragingly. You brought it up to your mouth and took a small bite.
The rich, savory flavor of sausage floated over your tongue and you welcomed it. You chewed and swallowed and went back for a second bigger bite, this time biting into the core and getting hard boiled egg along with the sausage and you looked up to see Johnny smiling and digging into his own breakfast.
“Johnny, what is this? It’s delicious.” You took another bite as he explained. “Scotch egg. Mah mum used tae make em’ when I was wee. They’re a personal favorite. Do ye like it?” You nodded, and munched on the egg appreciatively.
“You're a good cook, Johnny.” He beams under your compliment, cheeks reddening, eyes bright and gleaming you barely catch a glimpse of as he quickly looks away to try and offset the effects. “S’nothing, hen. Cookings jus’ chemistry an’ I’ve always been good at that.”
This sparks a memory, the jumpstart of a thought just like the first that just refuses to reveal itself fully, there and gone, like someone hit you with the forget it stick.
Before you can think about it too hard he picks up the mug next to him and hands it to you. It’s warm and fragrant, a nice hot cup of coffee and as you took a sip your face puckered up a bit as the bitter twinge hit your tongue, it had a distinct pungent aftertaste, there was definitely alcohol mixed in.
He laughed and you scowled at him a little. “S’just a nip, Bonnie. It’ll help with yer hangover.” You grumbled a little and took another swallow, it went down easier the second time.
Eating made you feel a little better you had to admit, but then those questions you had made themselves evident again, circling your mind and trying to push past your lips. Before you could voice them he began asking questions of his own.
“How have ye been, lass?”
“Fine.” You lie immediately, it’s first nature. What were you supposed to tell him? You’ve been moping for a week? Just trudging through life like a lost puppy since you'd seen him last? Your watch starts to beep, indicating a tick up in your heart rate. “Lass.”
You can’t look at him, you avoid it even though you can feel the icy stare of his baby blues chilling you and you have to suppress a shiver. “I’ve been fine, works just been… hard on me.”
The watch stops as your heart rate slows. “Have ye been doin’ yer homework still?” Easy question, you answer honestly and the watch stays quiet. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment and you think the interrogation is over but then he drops the hard one.
“Why haven’t ye come back to the gym, bonnie?” You tense a bit in your spot. What would you say? That you can’t? Does he not know your trial is up? That you can’t possibly afford a membership? What would he say if he knew you’d been by, everyday for a week but have just been too chicken to go in?
You force yourself to relax and answer nonchalantly over another bite of your egg. “My trial ended.” You prayed that he’d leave it at that, but he didn’t. “So ye havnae come back because yer trial ended.” You nod to avoid speaking but the watch on your wrist says it all for you, it beeps against your words, turning your truth into lies. “Bonnie.”
The stupid thing won’t stop. Why? Why do you keep this thing on? Yet another errant memory tries to come to the surface. Something about that watch but it’s not clear, you just can’t remember. It hurts almost, the strain of trying to remember things that just won’t disclose themselves so you let it go and give him a piece of the truth. “Ok, so I’ve been by once or twice, but I didn’t go in, I just was passing by.”
You stuff the last of the egg into your mouth to quiet yourself. He scoots closer and pulls the plate from your hands, setting it down on the nightstand as you swallow and take a sip of your coffee. He takes that from you too and there’s nothing left to hide behind.
“Why did ye nae say anything tae me, ye didnae text me or anything, jus’ disappeared.” You felt hot all over, guilty and shamed, you can feel it pulling at you, tugging you with ropes, go to him they say. Push yourself into his arms and promise him you’ll never leave. Atone.
You can’t. You have questions of your own. You take your watch off, eyes locked with his as you undo the clasp and you can see the panic in his eyes but it turns to confusion as you wrap the gadget, in all its golden beauty around his wrist. He furrows his brows but doesn’t pull away, just sits and lets you.
“What happened to me last night?” He shifts a bit but you hold his arm steady, the sensors pick up his vitals and perhaps it’s dawned on him what you were doing, but if he did he didn’t fight it. “I was comin’ home late and I ran into ye outside of the club. Ye were hanging ontae the wall, couldnae even walk, hen. I tried talkin’ tae ye, tried tae find out who you’d been with but ye were out of it so I brought ye home tae sleep it off.”
The watch stayed silent the whole time, not a beep out of it. “Practically had tae carry ye if ah’m honest. Pretty lucky I came by I’d say. Ye were right sloshed.”
You didn’t know what to say, you should be thanking him but there’s still a rift between what he’s saying and what feels like truth. He just happened to be walking by just as you just happened to be outside of the club. Did you go outside by yourself? Really?
Why would you not be with Nancy? Why would you not have talked to her first? Clearly you hadn’t because she’d texted you and asked where you were. And if you’d been too drunk to walk, how could you have texted Nancy to tell her that you were going home? You were supposed to believe you could text intelligibly but not stand upright without gripping the wall? Why can’t you remember anything?
You wished you could remember more but you can’t and your little mock lie detector test hadn’t indicated he was lying to you, it sure as hell had ratted out your lies. You decided he had to be telling you the truth, as odd and coincidental as his story was, it wasn't impossible.
You sigh, accepting his account of the night before as valid, despite your inconsistencies and you felt him slip the watch off his wrist and drape it carefully over yours, he secures the clasp and lifts your hand up to his mouth and kisses the pulse point just below where the clasp sits. A soft press of his lips in a kiss so tender you feel your face heating up at the gentleness of the gesture.
He climbs up your arm in kisses, outside looking in it would have been comical to watch him treat you like Pepe Le Pew. The sheer affection in it almost cheesy but all you could do in the moment was relax into his touch. He’s reached your neck and your head dips to the side automatically, giving him more access and he takes it. Lips parting as they skim your jaw until they’re over your lips and you lean into his kiss, anticipating it, you want it, crave so very badly to be swept up by it, but he stops and leans back.
“How do ye feel?” It’s a simple question really and you find that somewhere between breakfast and your recount of last night your headache had subsided and you had a whole day ahead of you with nothing to worry about, no work to do, just you and Johnny. You felt exalted, after a week of trudging through your love sick blues you now somehow had everything you really wanted right at your fingertips.
But you couldn’t tell him that. So you just told him that you felt better and smiled, the first genuine smile you’ve had all week and it must be enough because he leans back in like he’s read your mind and gives you what you were wishing for.
His lips are soft but demanding, urgent in their press against yours and you have no choice but to succumb to their will. You lean back and he follows, chasing your lips until you’re pressed back against the pillow and he’s straddling you, strong arms stationed on either side of your head as his tongue pushes into your mouth and dominates yours.
You want more, want to roll him over and mount him, spend the rest of today alternating between riding him until your legs quivered and being flipped over and ravaged but he has different plans as he pulls away from you and backs off the bed. You stare at him in disbelief as he gathers up the dishes, smiling that gorgeous toothy grin as he does it.
“Dinnae look at me like that. We’ve got work tae do, hen.” You can’t believe he’s actually walking away from you until he does it, leaving you to stew in your arousal and stare after him. He’s gone for a bit and when he comes back you've already gotten up, made the bed and now sit on the edge watching him expectantly. He rifles through his drawers for clothes, setting out an outfit for him and then disappears into his closet, he comes out with a very familiar bag.
“What work?” He smiles and flexes, biceps bulging as he shows off his guns, you’re lost a bit at the sight of them. If he wasn’t anything else he sure was handsome, strong and lean just like you’d always fancied men to be. It’s like he’d appeared from your teenage dreams and you took him as sort of obsessed with you on top of it, an intoxicating combination indeed. “Why, our next session a’course. What else, hen?”
He hands it over to you nonchalantly and begins to strip. You recognize it immediately, It’s your overnight bag. You pull the bag close and try not to stare as he pulls his shirt off. Rummaging through it you find your workout clothes, garments you’ve worn around him multiple times, nothing shocking but you find more than just that, the bag is practically overflowing, stuffed full.
In the bag are also sets of clothes that you usually lounge around the house in, comfy things that no one ever sees you in. There’s also a few outfits that you’d normally wear to work, business casual folded neatly in the bottom. There's underwear and bras and even a couple pairs of shoes. There’s a smaller bag of toiletries tucked in the side pocket. It looks like a bag you’d pack yourself when planning to be away from home for a weekend or maybe a whole week by the sheer volume of your wardrobe stuffed into it.
“Johnny.” You look up from the bag and catch his gaze as he pulls his shorts up around his waist. “Aye, lass.”
You don’t even bother asking him the first few questions that come to mind like when did you pack this? And how? How did you know where everything was? How did you so perfectly root through my clothes and pack me a bag so thoroughly accurate of what I’ll need while I’m away? You could even see your soap, shampoo, conditioner and toothbrush. Everything you could possibly need he had grabbed.
But you don’t know how to ask him those things, don’t even know if you’d want the answer to them if you could so instead you ask the one question you don’t think you already know the answer to.
“Why is there so much?” He looks up at you like the answer is obvious and you’re stupid or perhaps just playing coy. “So ye could stay.” And he says it like it’s a concrete thing, as sound as the sea, the decisions already been made. Signed. Sealed. Delivered.
“What are you talking about?” He looks at you and his eyes are piercing and serious. “Ye cannae go home. S’nae safe.”
#cod#call of duty#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#cod x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#cod soap#twdubcon#dark!johnny#darkfic
149 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! How are you? Hopefully good! I saw that requests are open (for hazbin hotel/helluva at least) and I wanted to send one in if that’s cool with you! Here I go!
Could I request Alastor and Vox (separately) with a GN! Reader who’s like Jeongmin Choi from Dreaming Freedom? I don’t really wanna explain her entire personality so I just added a link so it’s easier that way!
Thank you so much if you do this! Have a good day (:
A/N- I’m sorry I tried my best to fit the description of her
Freedom Dreaming
Alastor:
Charlie first met you when you were quite new to Hell and ever since she found you, you became her most loyal friend. You are a girl with quite only a few words and glare at anybody 6 feet under whoever talks or laughs at Charlie’s ideas.
That’s when you met Alaster, he found you delightful and Charming in your own way.
You can make anything happen just by a dream, A dream into reality and that makes you dangerous. A target at hell that’s why he has his shadow following you around. The last time you went all berserk is when someone was flirting with Alastor so you used your own powers to kill the bitch.
You didn’t think Alastor would noticed but nope he did notice and he found it hot. So he decided to play around with you for a bit.
“Hello my dear! I was wondering if you have seen the new resident? What was her name? Ah yes Bonnie” He asked you making your eye twitch in annoyence making you wonder why he’s asking about her
“Sadly I haven’t seen her Alastor maybe she just left feeling pressured for doing so much for just redemption” You stated without looking from your book. He raised an eyebrow at you at your smart excuse before seeing your frustration making him smile even more.
“Ah I see, You seemed to know a lot more than your saying my dear” Alastor commented making you huff putting your book down.
“What’s the need of needing her now, Alastor?” You questioned before walking away but before you can do that he grabbed your hand pulling you back towards him.
“My dear, it was all jokes but I must say jealousy does suit you” He smirk making you roll your eyes in disbelief. “I do wonder what happened to Miss. Bonnie?” He asked making you finally give in as you pulled him down to kiss you.
but before he could react you pulled away “Are you done talking about the bitch now? I think she knew what she was doing when she was flirting with you” You said making him hide his blush at your bold statement and action.
“My dear we’re far from talking about her now, it’s just us now”
“Just us alone?”
“Of course My Dear, just us alone” He replied leaning down for another kiss.
Vox:
You glare at Valentino as he hid behind your Fiancé, Vox raised his eyebrows at you two before seeing you genuinely angry. “My Darling What has you so angry” He asked you making you continue to glare at Valentino.
“I saw him hitting Angel dust making him bruised” You huffed before finally lunging at Valentino making Vox hold you back as Valentino screeched in shock. “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH” You yelled at him eyes pure black before Vox carried you out the house.
“My Darling no offense but please calm the hell down, you gonna make all hell scared of you” Vox stated calmly.
This reminds him of himself when he has tantrums way too much now he sees how you feel during those. You continued to scream curses at Valentino making sure he hears you loud and clear.
He moved you to both yours bedroom moving you to your bed, “Vox-“Shh baby let us just lay here for a second” He interrupts you making you huff in frustration. You wrapped your arms around his neck anyway ms as he hugged your waist.
“I’m not gonna forget what he did, I’m actually gonna kill him” You stated making him chuckle.
“I’m sure he deserves it anyways baby” He stated with you. Putting his hands under your shirt before rubbing your back making you even more calm than usual.
“Your trying to distract me” You stated knowing he is because everytime your mad at Valentino or Velvette he would do more physical touch either in public or not. You loved his touch maybe that’s why it was easy for you to calm down usual you’ll use your lucid dreaming by now.
“It’s work isn’t it?” He smirked making you blush before sighing still thinking about your friend making Vox frown.
“I’ll tell Valentino to not hit his clients but I can’t guarantee it my darling” Vox mumbled making you smile again. He noticed it making him glad you’re happy again.
“Really? Thank you so much baby!” You said excitedly kissing him all over his face making him love the attention and affection.
“I’ll do anything for you absolutely anything” He said before kissing your lips before pulling you closer.
#vox x reader#alastor x demon reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#vox x you#alastor x reader#alastor x you
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
He’s Like A Puppy
kai parker x reader
summary: an argument starts up when damon and bonnie return to the boarding house to find you and kai spending time together. it goes south when you start to defend kai against your friends' remarks.
≪ originally publishes on ao3: 2/24/23 ≫
tags: discussion of murder, cupcakes, small biblical references, fluff
word count: 967
“Don’t you see that he’s dangerous? You’re insane to think otherwise,” Bonnie scolds you, pointing at Kai in the corner.
Kai, who, at this very moment, is sitting on a stool with a cupcake, a bit of the frosting on his nose.
“Very dangerous,” you comment, holding back a chuckle.
She rolls her eyes, “you didn’t see him in the prison world. You don’t know what he’s done.”
“Killed some people? Doesn’t everyone do that around here?”
“So you think it’s okay?”
“I mean, no, it’s not okay, but if we’re gonna declare Kai evil because he killed a couple folks, then everyone else here is, too. I mean, hell. Stefan’s been a ripper, Damon’s… Damon, Elena’s famous for turning off her humanity, Caroline’s temperamental.”
“Y/N, he massacred his family, there’s a difference.”
“Is there? Killing your family, or killing strangers who had lives and families that you know nothing about? And for all we know, maybe it was a Menedez’ brothers situation.”
“Okay, yes, I see your point about the strangers. But are you implying it’s okay to kill your family if they hurt you a teensy bit?”
“May I just say it was more than a teensy bit?” Kai interrupts.
“Shut up-”
“You shut up, Damon, I’m trying to hear all sides of this story.”
“Y/N, you’re talking crazy right now! He’s a liar. A manipulative, sociopathic liar. Besides, his name’s Malachai, for heaven’s sake! He said it himself, ‘it’s like his parents expected him to be evil’.”
You chuckle.
“What’s so funny about that?” Damon’s eyes narrow.
“You do know that ‘Malachai’ literally means ‘angel’, right? In fact, it’s a Biblical name. Malachai was a prophet of… y’know that actually doesn’t matter. Regardless, you can’t tell that someone’s evil based on their name. Unless that name is literally, like, Lilith. Or Lucifer.”
“Whatever. You can’t trust someone based on their name, either,” she counters.
“Didn’t say I trust him off his name. Just said we should treat him as we do everyone else in this massive fucking house that’s killed a bunch of people. And how do we treat them? Oh yeah - with understanding, and reason.”
“He stabbed me in the gut, Y/N.”
“So has Damon.”
“Yeah, but I have the right to kill her because we’re friends.”
“Do you even hear yourself when you speak, or is it white noise in your head while a little mouse plays scrabble with sentences?”
“Uncalled for.”
“Was it?”
They’re left at a standstill. No one is sure what to say next.
“Okay,” you carefully start, “whether or not you trust Kai, he’s here. And, for reasons I don’t know but I also don’t care, he’s been staying here, at the boarding house. Now, since I’m your out-of-town friend, I am also staying here, at the boarding house. So what’s wrong with us hanging out since we’re quite often, literally the only two people here?”
They, again, see the point in your statement, but continue to bicker about it anyway.
“He could hurt you.”
“Could, yeah. But we were chilling for two hours before you guys came back. Nothing happened.”
“Except he’s eating the cupcakes that Elena specifically made for the party tonight.”
“Maybe you shoulda labeled them ‘no touching’ or something.”
“Are you defending him over this now?”
“Well now I’m just pointing out the obvious.”
“I just… Elena’s going to be pissed when she finds her cupcakes gone.”
“Only one’s gone, she’ll barely notice.”
“I’ll tell her he stole it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, what’s she gonna do? Make him throw it back up?”
“One, gross. Two… maybe I’ll just let her finally kill him. That would solve a lot of our problems.”
You can’t help but smirk, “and we’ve come full circle. House of killers.”
Damon’s eyes widen as he realizes, “wait. No, wait. But it’s, ack, you suck. Fine. She won’t kill him. Just get him out of the kitchen.”
You shrug and make your way over to Kai, who’s now licking icing off his fingers. “Wanna go watch a movie?”
“Sure.” The answer is hesitant, but his excitement is given away with a sparkle in his eyes.
“What? This was the original problem, Damon! They can’t be alone together! What if he snaps again?”
“Bonnie,” you take a deep breath, “he’s not going to hurt me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Look at him - he’s like a puppy. Just needs a friend and he’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. We’re gonna go get out of your hair, get out of your cupcakes, and watch a movie.” You state, taking his hand.
“Call if you need anything,” Bonnie just rolls her eyes.
“Might need a grocery store run, but I won’t need help.”
“Whatever.”
◇◇◇◇
Halfway up the stairs, Kai looks behind him to face you, “why’d you call me a puppy?”
“Because you are one. Y’know, I mean what I said. I trust you, and you’re safe with me. You just need some company, Kai. It couldn’t have been easy being isolated for eighteen years.”
“So… you’re gonna be my company?”
“Is that okay?”
He smiles, his dimples showing on the sides of his face, “mhm.”
“Good. But two things… one, if you’re ever feeling angry or uneasy, come to me first, okay? I don’t want them to hurt you, so give me a chance to help you through it.”
“Okay.”
“And two, let’s not eat any more of Elena’s cupcakes. I know, pissing her off is fun sometimes, and they’re really good cupcakes. But we can make our own so Damon doesn’t kill us.”
“Fine, I won’t eat hers.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, Kai.”
“Thank you, actually. Um, for defending me earlier, and being a friend.”
“Of course. Now, let’s go watch a movie. I have Oreos in my room.”
868 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi!!! i love how you write so much and i,,,
so... since vanessa mentions being a trained EMT in the movie, what if reader ends up getting hurt by one of the animatronics (be it accidental or not) and vannessa takes the time to patch them up! maybe after, she ends up teasing the reader about their racing pulse, considering they are flustered with the personal attention from nessa.
just a silly little gay thought 🤭
Electric - Vanessa Shelly x F!Reader
Description: While being accompanied by Vanessa during one of your shifts, a quick checkup towards one of the animatronics results in you being shocked and knocked out. Luckily, Vanessa rushes to your aid and comforts you while patching you up.
# requested by anon
Media: FNaF!Movie
Character: Vanessa Shelly
Tags: Romantic Implications, Fluff, Sweet Talk, Mutual Care, Encouragement, Opening Up, Connecting, Playful Vanessa, Flustered Reader, Co-Workers to ? ? ? + F!Reader.
Warnings: Injury (Electric Shock), Descriptions of Burns, Blood, Unconscious, Brief Descriptions from Vanessa's Childhood (Abuse), Some Tension + Anxiety from Vanessa, Possible FNaF Spoilers
Read my TOS, Thanks!
"So, how long have you been working here for?" You asked, hands delicately twisting the rusted gears within the metallic mascot's darkened skeletal figure. You were struggling to get inside this trap, even why animatronics this ancient, their parts wouldn't be hard to twist. Nor smell as bad.
"Years after it closed," Vanessa answered. She had been feeling antsy staying put and watching you work, so tidying had been her priority for the last couple hours of the night. "believe it or not, it's only been recently that this place has required night guards. As soon as I became an officer, applications started opening for more security."
"Really?" You hummed, face fixed on Bonnie's complex systems. You scratched the side of your head, sweat oozing from your face. You had been told the machine had been acting unorthodox as soon as the power went on, as well as that error in his guitar. "Must have been some wild kids then if it needed more than some iron fence." Curiously, you began walking towards the still animatronics instrument. Fingers treading lightly before tinkering with it. Vanessa's eyes flickered wildly, and she screamed, "Wait, no! His guitar-"
It was too late. Soon, your vision was engulfed in white stems of electricity and wild baby blues. You yelped before falling off the stage, falling unconscious almost immediately as dark seeped into your gaze.
Your mind was plagued with a yellow haze, as well as your sight. You blinked rapidly, head twisting with pain. When your eyes began to clear, you could see a tall figure looming over your body. As the seconds drifted by, your senses began to grow back to normal. You could feel your wrists stinging as she wrapped a thick bandage around your cindered skin.
You winced, "Shit."
"Oh, thank God." Vanessa breathed, "You're awake."
You heaved, cringing coldly as pain skyrocketed through your veins. "What happened?" Your lip quivered, jaw twitching as you tried to read your current situation. You could feel blood oozing through your arms and legs which were hugged by white layers. "Oh, fuck." You coughed. Agony gripped your body, making you shutter.
"Take it easy," Vanessa grabbed your shoulder tenderly. Your eyes turned to Vanessa nervously. Maybe it was the shock, or it was something else you couldn't put your finger on. Vanessa frowned, rubbing her thumb to ease your anxiety. "Bonnie's guitar was unstable, and even at the simplest of touches, it can explode. It's not too severe most of the time, but still, it can hurt like hell."
You blinked, "When Steve said it was broken, he never said anything about it exploding." You tried to catch your breath. Vanessa hushed, "Calm down, alright? You're fine." She assured you, voice low as a whisper. "Just take a breath."
You inhaled sharply before releasing. After you did, Vanessa wrapped another section of your arms, which made your stomach twist. You never realized until now how much detail her face held so close, it was memorizing. And nerve-wracking for some odd reason. You were growing more flustered by the second, and she began to notice. Vanessa rested her hand near your chest, and you swore you could see stars.
"Your pulse is crazy fast," she said with a chuckle. You blushed, chuckling weakly. Vanessa pulled her hand away, "You look dazed. What are you so nervous about?"
"Nothing." You answered softly. Vanessa tilted her head, obviously intrigued. "Really?"
She rested her touch against your pulse again, making you shutter. Vanessa giggled, "Are you flustered? Because of me?" She gasped, "You are." Vanessa sounded almost giddy at that, childishly so. You defended yourself, "No, no. I'm just, trying to get my head together. I'm just out of it."
She teased, "Are you sure? I don't care if you get a little red around me. We all get crushes." Vanessa read your starstruck face and smiled once more before applying a light bandage to your cheek. "You feeling better?"
"Just a bit." You laid down, catching your breath. "I'm sorry I put you through this." Your eyes awkwardly shifted to your wrapped hands.
"It's alright, it was a mistake. As long as you're fine, I'm fine." Vanessa began packing away the bright red kit, eyelashes batting as she spoke. Internally, she was furious. Her father lied to you, probably to get you weak. He probably wanted her to leave you burned on the ground and leave the children to clean up everything. That's how it always had been. She was always cleaning up his messes, even as a little girl. It was horrible. Her nails dug against the table with a strangled huff, "You are okay, right?"
"Thanks to you." You told her. You sat up again and nudged your gaze ahead. "A little help?"
"Shit, right." Vanessa walked toward and you felt her warm hands around your sides. She could tell you were screaming inside, and that stole a smirk from her almost immediately. "Hey, if you fall, I'll catch you. My arms are always open,"
"Thanks for the offer." You played along.
You struggled to get on your feet for a couple short seconds, with Vanessa holding you delicately. You were able to walk again, just before the crack of dull dawn. You started gathering your tools with Vanessa next to you. She was toying with her hair when you met her gaze. You shyly extended your hand, "Thank you for helping me . . . You really didn't have to."
"I wanted to." She grabbed your hand and shook it, "I'd love to help you. Well, whenever you need it."
You both remained silent for a minute. And her eyes wandered down to your lips before you cleared your throat, "I hope we can keep in touch?"
"Yes, of course. But, not here, y'know?" She says seriously. "It was a pleasure being with you."
Your heart grew heavy and you couldn't squeeze out anything. You simply waved with a warm expression and walked out into the parking lot. For the first time in your life, you had truly felt something electric. Not just the shock from Bonnie, but from Vanessa.
#🐇 vanessa shelly#vanessa shelly x reader#vanessa shelly#vanessa afton#fnaf movie#fnaf#fnaf spoilers#💌 request!#fnaf movie spoilers#writing#writers on tumblr
283 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shady underground crew!!!
Landry
He's a little worried about everything and he is desperate to keep you at arm's length so that you don't pick up on the fact that he's obsessed with you.
Really wants to just take you out on 1 (one) date so that he can figure out if his feelings are real or not but he never will He is worried about what he’ll find out about himself
Holds his breath around you. He doesn't understand why
He will often reach out to his contacts to check up on you and ensure you’re safe.
He loves that you’re so independent and reliable. Every job he’s given you you come back from. Maybe a little bruised or scuffed but you always come back.
You’re always bringing him the most valuable stuff. It’s really helped his reputation. He wants to thank you. He doesn’t know how.
He’s always making sure you know exactly the kind of danger you’re going into when he gives you a job. He wants you prepared. He loves you
He’s always gushing about his “new friend” to anyone he can. Never mentions your name. Keeps you a complete secret and obscures your details so no one can identify you fully
Lotta sex dreams about you. He’s not proud of it. But he can’t seem to stop them.
✦•····················································•✦•···················································•✦
Briar
Absolutely the worst person you want obsessed with you honestly.
Very pissed off with you for no reason. All the time. It doesn't matter how long you've been working for him or how reliable you are he's pissed.
He always thinks you are up to something with no proof. Accuses you of stealing tips, Meeting clients on the side, cutting him out of deals, and turning other employees against him. Even small things like being late or missing a show when you didn’t. Anything you could do wrong he thinks you've done wrong and he will absolutely choke you out till you admit it. Even if you didn't do anything wrong. he's not satisfied until you “confess” Afterwards he lets you go calls you a whore and continues to employ you.
And good luck trying to quit!! The second you tell him to get bent he's calling Bailey and paying double your fee so you get sent to the underground brothel.
he's always happy to “rescue” you after a week as long as you agree to come to work for him again. If you don’t agree he's happy to leave you there for another week.
he's all about the control of the situation. Sometimes he has you in his office just as a little decoration while he works.
he's not a big fan of actually fucking you. He hates how it would “give you power over him” but when he's wine drunk in his office late at night he does jerk his dick to the thought of you until it chafes.
If you do ever manage to have sex with him he threatens to “make you disappear” if you tell anyone. Of course, you assume that means hell kill you. It's Briar after all. But he's got a cage in his living room at home with your name on it. In pretty gold lettering.
✦•····················································•✦•···················································•✦
Wren
Dude is itching for a partner in crime. He wants someone as wild as him. So he can live out a Bonnie and Clyde lifestyle.
Steals things for you constantly. Not shy at all about his feelings fucks you on the poker table with no mercy because you gave him a wink.
No shame a big fan of showing you off but not too big on sharing unless you're into it.
Will always kiss/lick/suck blood off of you. It doesn't matter what you've been doing either he's rabid for you covered in blood.
Wren is also a big fan of you when you are clever. He loves coming up with schemes and plans to fuck up the people around both of you. he's got no loyalty to his boss his work or anything else. It’s only you and he's obsessed with you.
Will bite the hand that feeds him.
Big fan of fire. So get ready for some burns on your hands back and thighs. he's gonna press his lighter to them and flick it until you admit that it hurts.
he's such a freak for you honestly. He’ll break into anywhere to fuck you there including Remeys place.
When you come back from a night with Wren you are a mess. Ash in your hair hickes burns bites and sometimes worse marks cover you. He keeps your underwear “until next time” (you never get them back). You always have a playing card hidden somewhere on your person and it sometimes takes a while to find it, he's getting really creative with the placements (usually it's from the winning hand of his poker games).
Wren is just such a mess for you and he doesn't care who knows it. As long as they understand that he's also not someone to fuck with on top of that. he's always got a gas can ready.
✦•····················································•✦•···················································•✦
Mickey
he's been watching you since you both lived at the orphanage together. It's weird that you never noticed him. And you were the one he wanted to catch the attention of… just you
He's seen pictures of you. People talking about you on forms. It's easy to find stuff about you if you know where to look and Mickey always knows where to look.
he's so careful when he looks up images of you. He makes sure that he's never caught on those online forums. The forums where terrible creeps lurk. Where they post pictures of people they've raped and beaten and left at the side of the road. He finds those people terrible. Disgusting. Evil. but he's still there to watch. Waiting for another image of you to pop up. Just you.
He got lucky once. Someone posted an image of you passed out in an alley. He knew the location. It wasn't too far away. He covered his face and left the orphanage to go and collect you. He told himself he was just going to take you back home. But he couldn't help himself. And you'd never know it was him…
He still feels guilty about that but in a weird way, it keeps him going. He misses the feeling of your skin and how warm you are. The little noises you made you were barely awake…
And you still don’t notice him around the orphanage. he's been inside you. Just you. but you still ignore him.
Until you need something. He uses you to help himself escape. He considers taking you with him but that's a risky move. He knows how Bailey describes you to clients. He knows if you were to go missing it would put a target on his back.
So he settles for doing you a favor instead.
Every image of you online is wiped the next day. The forum is a little pissed off. Especially some idiot with an anime username. they're all wondering who hacked the place and got rid of the images of just you. It feels targeted. Some people even say that they guess they'll just have to track you down and get more. But others move on to different material.
Of course, Mickey's computer has a special folder on it. Filled with pictures of you. Just you.
#landry the criminal#briar the brothel owner#mickey the hacker#tw violence#tw burn#tw rape#tw implied rape#tw blood#tw stalking#yan dol#yandere#tw yandere#yandere tropes#x reader#gn reader
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
coffee at midnight, part 7
John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader
You try the whole "dating" thing. Soap doesn't quite like that, and it shows. (4,4k)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
READ ON AO3
If you'd known how much of a fuss it would be, you wouldn't even tell him. Hell, you wouldn't even think about telling him, you'd just describe it as a simple meeting with an old friend, and he'd know everything afterwards.
Now, you felt like you were seventeen again, trying to explain yourself right in front of your mom when you did something that she didn't like.
The only difference was, Soap acted like your mom, proudly taking her place in scolding you.
"'s like a free invitation for an axe murderer to come and get ya. Bonnie, thought yer gonna be smarter than this." He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see how conflicted he was with you going out without him.
Well, maybe it was also the fact that you were going on a date; an unexpected one, but you couldn't really say no, when your best friend played as your wingman.
And, what could shock the most, the wingman wasn't Soap, but Gaz that got into the conclusion you needed something like this; after your injury, but also in general since he hasn't seen you in ages on date with someone. Truth, harsh but still truth, got into you, so you've decided he's completely right. You needed this, a fresh air in the whole situation.
Which was funnier, that date was with Cody. Cody, who got your fake number from Johnny just because he didn't like him and he gave off weird vibes and you deserved better. You felt bad for a moment considering it was a fucking helpline, but it was too late to do anything with it. What's more to it, you really didn't want to tell him that your idiotic best friend decided to joke, thinking it would be funny.
That guilt was until Garrick proudly admitted that he gave him your number because it felt right. Because Cody asked about you since he saw you with them, and after a quick "interrogation", he felt like a proud wingman to allow him to take a shot on you.
Pretty funny choice of words, but all in all, you knew what Gaz was thinking about. You've babbled with him about it for almost two hours straight, drinking wine, while Soap just listened, throwing his snarky remarks from time to time. He looked like a kid that got his candy stolen from him, and while you didn't really like that kind of behavior, it was kind of funny to see him like this.
Such a contrast to his usually playful nature, especially in something stupid; you were just getting ready for the date. Nothing too scandalous, nothing too fancy, and nothing too deep, but the last thing you kept to yourself, just to get him riled up.
"Axe murderer that I know, Soap," you groaned, when he stood in your way, clearly not wanting you to go any further. Or to at least think what you were doing, which was funny enough, given you were a grown up woman. Not his sister that he needed to protect because she's not mature enough to think for herself, his best friend that knew exactly what she's doing.
At least, she pretended like she knew it. He was so stern that even when you gave him a look, full of politeness, he wasn't impressed.
"You just met him after years," he emphasized the last word. "He could be so much different than the last time you've seen him, 'st sayin'. Yer too good to people, always been."
You sighed, a little defeated; there was nothing you could say that would convince him enough to Cody. "Yet, Kyle thinks he's pretty good for going out."
Soap laughed at your words, shaking his head with disbelief. His previously royal, blue eyes, were nothing like before; they were a bit... colder, if it was even possible. "And since when Kyle is your love advisor?" He raised his eyebrow, his arms crossed at his chest. It felt pretty defensive, even for him.
And, you would lie if you'd tell that you didn't like that, even if it was weird for you, to see him care about something like this. It was heartwarming; like he didn't actually want you to see that guy, to see him adding his statement.
But, of course, you couldn't admit that. It would only make his ego burst, and it was the last thing that he needed to know.
Besides, it would only make things more complicated.
"And like, it's..."
"Why do you care anyway?" you interrupted him; he opened his mouth for a moment, to close it right away, like your words actually hit him. "Genuinely. It's just a date."
Soap rolled his eyes, playing with his fingers – when you only glanced at them, he swiftly hid them behind his back. Like he wanted to keep them away from you, like you would say something about it. It was weird, but you didn't pay much attention to it back then.
"Carin' about you. 's all." He shrugged, looking carefully at you, when you put your shoes on. "'st... be careful, aye? 'm gonna kill this lad if he's..."
"...Johnny." You sent him a look; your hand instinctively covered his for a moment. "It's all gonna be alright. I'm not like, going to a mission where I'm gonna get another injury" you joked. He didn't take it quite well, considering that he gave you a scolding look.
"Mhm." Soap grumbled, helping you as you moved on to your coat. "Text me if you'll need anythin', bonnie. I mean it. Yer arm good?"
"Good, thank you. I'm gonna remember." You smiled softly, nudging him for goodbye, indicating that he could step down from his protective role. Cody was supposed to pick you up, so there was absolutely nothing for him left to do.
Well, at least you thought this way. His thoughts were a little different, as you saw the moment he escorted you to the exit of your apartment building, leaning against the door, as you were getting into your date's car. Cody even waved to him, but all Johnny did was a slight nod, like he was acknowledging him.
Small win, but a win anyway, you thought.
"Hope he's not your hidden boyfriend or something?" Your old friend looked at you for a second, before taking a turn to the left. "Like, he seems pretty... tense, when he sees me. Like he's protecting something."
You needed a few seconds to process what Cody was implying; and when you understood, you couldn't help but laugh and with disbelief. "No, he's completely harmless. Seriously, it's just... maybe he doesn't take strangers well, you know."
"Does he give strangers a distress hotline number instead of yours, or is it just me?" he grinned, and even then, you could hear the question in his tone, which made you gulp a little.
Well, if you’d think this way...
"Well. Johnny is... he's..."
Best friend. He's your best friend.
Why couldn't it leave your mouth?
"He's my... Johnny." You eventually said, looking at him. "He's like that, you'd understand after some time. But he's not my hidden boyfriend or something."
"Note taken. Would be awkward, if I'd taken you on a date and didn't know that." He laughed, shaking his head. "He'd probably kill me, huh?"
You laughed at this too, instead of telling him how Soap was already not pleased with you going out with him, and he was only your... best friend, technically. Heaven only knew what would happen if you'd want to meet Cody if you were in a relationship with him.
It was the possessiveness speaking. If anyone wanted to know something about MacTavish, he was possessive about his things. Obsessively so; it was cute when he clutched the Subway's sandwich to his chest from Ghost, when his friend wanted to take a bite. You, of course, had permission to take it (just a little bite since you were a girl), but no one else could. He cared about his things, he didn't let anyone touch his stuff if it had a sentimental matter to him.
The funny thing about it, he was possessive about people too, which sometimes irritated you to the core; he could have multiple friends and all, but you? Oh, he was interrogating the shit out of them, giving you the side eye if they managed to plan something with you before he did. He felt like he came before anyone, no matter what.
Not to mention, he was only like this about guy friends. Like a dog with a bone that's too precious to give to others. Funny thing is, they didn't even flirt with you, and he was acting like they were stealing you from him.
So, it wasn't really surprising when he didn't want to let you go out with Cody, especially that he somehow knew that you two had a history. You were thankful enough he didn't make a scene right in front of him because that would be humiliating.
Especially when your date seemed to be so nice. Not only did he open the car door for you, but also the restaurant's one, and you couldn't help but smile at that little gesture, nodding to him as a silent thank you. What was even better, you loved the place he chose for tonight.
Your old friend had to remember your taste, considering that the Italian restaurant was probably the prettiest building you've seen in a while. A lot of warm lamps around, climatic music that got your attention right when you walked into the room, greeted by an older waiter with a mustache; everything screamed Italy here, and you were taking in the view with pleasure.
"You like it so far?" Cody looked up at you from the menu; his bright, green eyes sparkled with curiosity in dim light. You suddenly felt bad, since you appreciated the effort more than you've probably let him know.
So, you nodded quickly, your painted nails clicking against the table. "Reminds me of this one restaurant back at home. You know, where we went with Stacy and others?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." He laughed, shaking his head "I remember how Stacy spilled expensive wine on your shirt. Before meeting with your moms, you were pretty pissed back then."
You opened your eyes a little wider at this memory, suddenly remembering it; yeah, Stacy did something like that. What was also important to mention, you were right before an important dinner with your moms and their friends (Price involved), and the tragedy was huge back then. "So, you do remember things, huh?"
"Most of them," he admitted, tilting his head to the side with that boyish charm that he always had. It was something you couldn't really take away from him. "If something is worth remembering, I remember. Mostly situations with you."
It would be a lie if you'd say that dinner didn't go smoothly – because it did. Perfectly, even, knowing how much of a gentleman Cody was, how swiftly he balanced between topics, trying to entertain you. Trying to at least get a glimpse of your life that he didn't get to know since you left your hometown after being deployed and you cut ties with most of your friends. It was something that you liked, something that you adored, knowing he once was interested in you, and you were in him, when you were at high school.
Key words: high school.
As much as you liked him now, you knew it wouldn't work the moment waiter brought your food, and you awkwardly smiled to him, when he bon apetite'd you. Even if he tried to be smug, conversation wasn't effortless like you wanted it to be, you didn't like the way he asked you about your work, implying how it was men's work. Maybe it wasn't evident at first sight, but comments about you ruining your nails and your struggle as the only woman, and everything like that, irritated you.
Maybe it was you being hypersensitive, but you didn't really enjoy comments like this, no matter who it would be.
The chemistry between you two wasn't sparkling as well, and as much as you kept yourself from admitting it, you couldn't brush off a feeling that you would enjoy time with Johnny better. Hell, you were sure that your Scot would make those few hours a lot better. Movies, cooking together, even visiting the gym together... anything.
You felt bad for the thought, when Cody was so nice overall – yet, not nice in a way that would interest you.
"Is that your friend?" You heard him, which brought you back to Earth; he frowned, as he looked behind you. You were sitting right by the window, so he had a pretty clear view on the street.
"Friend?" You raised your eyebrow, amused.
"From earlier on."
You turned around, to see if your date was right; you doubted, really doubted that Cody would see Soap. Your friend was anything but someone that would disturb your date. "I really don't think Johnny..."
Well, Johnny indeed was here, and the thought of him not interrupting your date was completely crushed. You had to give him credit, though; he wasn't that recognizable, you didn't catch him right in the moment. He was in his dark sunglasses and brown cap; if the situation would've been different, you could laugh at how ridiculously similar he looked to all the Marvel characters when they had to hide.
Back then, you balanced on the line between being amused and furious that he didn't respect your time enough with someone else.
Having fun, Johnny?
As you observed him, you saw how quickly he looked around; for a brief moment, you felt like his gaze was on you, and it only confirmed itself when he started typing in his phone again.
dinnae ken what yer talkin about.
"I guess he's just here." You shrugged, lying to him swiftly. "It's the center of the town, yeah? Things... happens."
Cody chuckled, playing with his fork. "Yeah. Yeah. Maybe he is. As long as he doesn't disturb our date, right? It's too nice."
You're a menace to the society, MacTavish; you swiftly typed out under the table. "Yeah. It's too nice." you agreed, even if you thought how interesting it got only because your best friend was outside.
and yer mean: (
You had to hold back a laugh when you've read it; so, you put your phone down and came back to talking with Cody, eating and drinking that delicious wine; you knew you had to buy a bottle after this little adventure. Maybe they didn't sell it, but you were willing to try as soon as the waiter would come with the bill.
It was a personal win for you to come out twenty minutes later out of this restaurant with a bottle in your hand, laughing to your date about something convincing enough to sell it to you. You had to speak with two managers, but it was yours after all, ready to go home with you.
Soap was ready too, even if he acted like he wasn't here; you turned down Cody's proposition of taking you home just to call your best friend to ask where he is exactly, since he disappeared from that bench before you knew it.
"Over the date already? Had to suck, eh?" His eyebrow arched, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. "Sad. But yer sure that lad ain't for you."
"You know," you started, as you grabbed his glasses, just to wear it yourself "if you wouldn't be such a stalker, I'd let you drink wine with me at home. But, now, I have doubts about it."
"Stalker? C'mon. A simple coincidence, that is," he chuckled, as you two walked into his car. "Not my fault you'd rather have me on this date, not him. Can't really blame ya, hen."
You could feel how your face heated up in the moment; maybe if his statement wasn't true, you'd react differently, maybe you would think of a snarky comment. Back then, when you felt exactly like he said, well... It was hard enough.
He seemed to catch the hesitant look at your face, considering how smiley he got. "Oh? Got ye real good, if yer blushin'—"
"—you imagine too much, Johnny, " you mumbled out, as you got more comfortable in your seat, ready to go. "Let's go home, yeah?"
"'st sayin', bonnie. I could have a better date, even at home."
You didn't say anything about his reply. Not because it wasn't true (because it was), not because you were at a loss of words, but because you were conflicted about him and you having a date, when you two were friends. Was he honest, or playing like he always did?
It was just easier to think of it as just banter, ignore it, than actually take him seriously; because if you did and he would have to explain it to you it was just a joke... You were pretty sure that death of embarrassment was gonna happen, honestly. John was too important to you, friendship with him was too important to you to experiment with things like that.
Besides, it wasn't like you two would fit, right? There was a difference between being friends and someone that you could date. Your best friend was great, but as a lover? You didn't know this side of him, you could only guess.
When you finally arrived, you automatically left the car with your head in the clouds. Maybe that's why you haven't even noticed that your best friend was on the other side, trying to open the door for you; and that end up badly, considering that you've hit him with the door.
Low "fuck" snapped you from your thoughts, as well as him holding his nose; you immediately approached him, your expression bashful.
"I'm so sorry, Soap, I—"
"—S'alright." He shook his head, smiling at you like it was nothing. "I've been worse, you know. 'Suppose I deserved that." He nudged you, laughing when you rolled your eyes.
"It wasn't intentional," you groaned, grabbing his arm to start walking with him. "Come on, I'm gonna check it. Just in case."
"Apartment first, ma'am."
So, as soon as you were in the apartment with him, you had to check if nothing was broken – and even if it sounded like a wild thought, breaking a nose in close contact with the car's door, literally everything was possible with Soap, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn't be the first time that you did something to him without intention of doing it.
Once, when he pretended to be a burglar (he thought it would be funny this way) and he grabbed you from behind in your apartment, you hit him with a flower pot. You laughed afterwards, but you were pretty mad at him in the first ten minutes, trying to find something with ice that would help his headache.
After you checked everything, he seemed to be good. At least, excluding the moment where he thought it would be funny to whine and make you worry, which you smacked him for, but that was just his idiotic side speaking.
This incident though was definitely a lighter one. You've found yourself cleaning his shirt with soap and cold water, since he had a few drops of blood on it, and somehow you felt responsible there wouldn't be any stain left. Soap kept you company even then, shirtless, leaning against the doorframe to have a joke or two about how well you are cleaning blood, suggesting that you have "close connections" with underground fighters.
A simple answer would be period, but you didn't feel like going into that kind of conversation, so you just agreed, telling him he has to book you for the next cleaning. His laugh was everything.
Quickly after this, you were off to sleep, tired with the events of the day; you really needed a good rest, where you'd wrap yourself in the sheets, a warm nest around you. Calm environment, nothing to worry about since you were on leave, and your best friend was in your apartment too, it was the sense of safety here.
Except, your nightmares had a bit different plans than you had.
Ruthless, like they needed to remind themselves, and the worst thing about it was: you lived through every one of them. It wasn't something of your imagination, monsters and creatures that had no place in the real world, no – the realness of it all was scary. The memories you had from missions blended perfectly with events that didn't happen, causing you to have a heart-attack experience.
Nightmares about your team were the worst; where everyone was killed. Where you couldn't do anything but scream; this time, you watched their execution, as every one of your boys were killed right in front of you. Gun wounds, humiliation, where killers wanted them to beg for their life, when they cut the fingers of your comrades just to shoot them afterwards.
And you had to watch all of it, teary-eyed, just begging to stop all this madness.
The worst moment was when royal blue eyes looked right into yours, terrified, with a silent plea in them, hoping that you're gonna be the one to save his life; and the worst thing was, you knew you're gonna fail him. You knew there was nothing you could do to prevent the bloodshed, not when your body refused to move, not when you couldn't even move your finger, nor legs to defend them.
To defend him.
You remembered screaming, when the hope died in his eyes; silent, maybe meaningless words from your side that you're gonna fix all of this, no matter what. How you were the only one alive, and it felt worse than being dead with all of them.
And then, you woke up.
Your breath rapid, shuddery, you had no control over it, as well as you had no control over tears streaming down your face, without you acknowledging the fact of them. The only element that you saw? A pair of blues, looking at you with horror.
Owner of them shook you gently, trying to get you out of the trance you were in; after a minute you were pretty sure that he was talking, but you couldn't really recall what.
You had other things in mind.
"You're alive," you said, breathing out; he seemed shocked at least with your statement, but as he held your hands in his, he nodded quickly.
"Yeah. Yeah, 'm alive. Always will," he whispered. For a moment, the two of you were just looking at each other in silence and breathing. He took as it personal job to ease your nerves, and you could say that he really succeeded at it – the feeling like someone ripped your heart from your chest, slowly but surely vanished. "Better?"
"A bit," you murmured, sighing. You felt kind of bad, even if it wasn't your fault entirely. "I woke you up. I'm so sorry Johnny, I don't even—"
"—sssh. None of that right now, lassie, 'salright." He shook his head, leaning even more in your direction. "Come on. Give me a bosie."
"A bosie?" you chuckled, wiping away your tears. "It's a... hug, or...?"
"It's a hug, aye," he laughed too, wrapping his arms around you tightly – he knew how you liked to be hugged, he knew what you needed back then.
Soap hid his face in your hair, as he caressed your spine softly. He whispered a lot of words back then; soothing ones, encouraging, sweet nothings that made your heart go. How you weren't alone in all of this, how you could always count on him, how he was always gonna be here, no matter what was gonna happen.
All of this, in his arms, slightly rocked back and forth by him, seemed like the sweetest promise ever made, when you listened to his heart, slowly coming back to normal, just like your breath did not long ago. You two had magical influence on each other, you knew, but seeing it in action had you on a chokehold.
If this would be possible, you'd never leave this hug. You were more than happy to stay there with your eyes closed, your arms tightly around him, chin on top of his arm, where you could just smell his scent that somehow calmed you even more.
"'m gonna bring you a glass of water. Then, you're gonna go to sleep, all right?"
You couldn't care less about a glass of water, when you had all you needed in one person.
“Can you... stay?" you asked, slowly, when he started getting out of your bed. Somehow, you felt out of place asking that, but you needed to do this, even if it could seem outward weird to him.
You saw how he froze for a moment, before sitting in your bed again. "Of course."
This wasn't the first time; you once comforted him in bed, you slept next to him on missions just to keep both of you warm, but that was definitely the first time when both of you felt... more intimate. Like it was a change in the air, and after all it was your bed, in your apartment, and you wanted him to be next to you because he brought you comfort.
And because, somehow, it felt like he belonged here.
He spooned you from behind – one of his arms going under your head, so you could easily use it as a pillow if you'd only want, the other around your waist, like he was personally protecting you from anything that could happen to you. His body heat hit you the moment you snuggled more under the sheets. Soap was like a personal heater, ready to do anything to keep you warm.
You were in heaven.
"This will do?" he asked, his voice low. "Is it good for you, lassie?"
"...yeah." You smiled under your nose, when he ruffled your hair with the tips of his fingers, when you laid your head on his arm. "Good."
"Mhm. Sleep now, I'm gonna be here, if you need me." He kissed the back of your head, and from that gesture alone, you just knew for a fact that he was smiling too. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know. Love you too."
And for the first time, it felt a bit different from "I love you" than usual.
#soap x reader#soap x you#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x you#x reader#cod x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap fluff#soap fanfic#friends to lovers#soap cod#soap call of duty#john mactavish
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
since i'm rambling about self inserts? (is that it?) now you're miserably turning over on the bed, pulling the comforter over your head because you wasted a whole whopping 70$ for MW3 only to get an unfinished game and a piss-poor half-assed shock value main character death.
You fall asleep thinking about what you'd do differently- how johnny wouldn't die so needlessly, maybe even convince Captain Price to let Johnny put a bullet in Makarov's head in that helo.
And when you wake, your surroundings are different. The bed is too small when yours is a king, the innerspring mattress creaks when you sit up, even though you explicitly bought a memory foam.
The walls are spartan instead of the personalized decor you had. Looking over the edge of the bed, the floor isn't carpet. It's an ugly, white vinyl tile.
Where the fuck are you?
Your hands are callused but the only time you even got one was when you tried your hand at gardening, only to eventually realize you could kill a cactus with your brown thumb.
Hopping out of bed, you beeline to your bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. Almost everything is the same. Eyes, hair, body, height.
Only difference is your flesh. It's littered with scars- both old and new. A thick, pink jagged line across your clavicle (a blade?), a puckered star shaped keloid above your hip bone (A gunshot wound?)
Stepping back out into the room, you carefully survey the space around you. A tac vest you swear you've seen before hangs on the back rest of your small chair.
Two black glock-19's sit on the desk. How do you know that? You don't know lick about weapons.
There's a large sheathed blade by your nightstand table. Didn't Rambo have one of those?
Suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. You're dreaming. Jesus. Maybe you should start reading some smut fanfiction before bed to get Simon in your-
A knock at your door pulls you out of your degenerate thoughts.
oooookay.
Padding quietly to the door, the metal of the handle feels shockingly cold. How wildly vivid.
"Ye- what the fuck?"
What the actual fuck?
"Language."
...
Your mouth gapes in utter disbelief. "Simon?"
His dark eyes narrow behind his skull mask. "Chummy, are we?" He steps forward, forcing your neck back at an uncomfortable angle to keep your eyes fixed on his. "You and I, Sergeant, ain't friends. It's Ghost to you. Clear?" he snarls.
You swallow thickly. "C-Crystal, sir."
He tips his chin forward. "Get decent, I'm to take ya to the debriefin' room."
what?
"Now."
Spinning on the balls of your feet, you hastily dress, and grab the vest on the chair. UK flag on it. Tactical. Heavy as hell.
Your hands move on their own, and fingers smartly clip buckles, pull up zippers and close the pockets- as if you've been doing this your whole life.
What is happening?
When you get to wherever it was you were going, you're met with more recognizable faces.
Captain Price stands in front of Laswell, bulky arms crossed as he speaks to her in a hushed tone.
Gaz sits on a chair with his head hanging back as he blankly stares at the ceiling, trademark cap in place.
And then there's- "Bonnie!"
Johnny.
"Good to see Simon dinnae eat ye on the way here."
Simon Ghost doesn't react to the jibe at all.
Why are you sitting in the middle of the 141 listening to Laswell debrief about Hassan? Why aren't you waking up yet? You're lucid. The sharp sting of your nails digging into the palms of your clenched hands isn't dulled.
"Good hunting."
This can't be happening.
This isn't real. The heavy helmet strapped to your head. The weight of the bulky tac vest full of equipment. The painfully tight straps around your thighs. The way the rifle feels in your hands, solid and dense.
Not real.
Until you're offloading with Bravo Team in Al-Mazrah on the search for Major Hassan. The tall grass grazing your pants, the NVG's over your eyes to help you see in the dark. The harsh recoil of a weapon you've only ever used in a video game. The gurgling sounds of the enemies as they choke on their blood by your feet. The bullet whizzing past you, clipping your cheekbone. The burning sting of it, white-hot pain.
Real.
It feels fucking real.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod#kyle gaz garrick#john price#is it self insert? idk
759 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ hi hi, it’s been too long since I’ve written a story… hopefully it’s good hehe ♡
……
Bonnie x Reader
……
- “Damn it Golden shut the hell up!”
There they go again, you roll your eyes expecting at least one of the dorks in the party room to freak out. Hearing Bonnie yell at the golden bear who was most likely irritating the purple rabbit. Placing your tools into your bin and closing the top right after, it read mechanic on the top in sharpie labeled on brown scotch tape. Being a mechanic did not mean fixing the emotional stress on the living animatronics, but being their friend did. At least in your book, taking a deep breath you turn your heel as the door busts wide open.
heavy breathing from Chica can be heard as she looks up finally catching her breath,
- “oh honey, I’m so glad your here!”
Her country accent evident in her voice as she points down the hall,
- “Bonnie is having a total freak out out there! Now I know it’s outta your pay but could yo-“
you giggle smiling at the chubby girl,
- “yes Chica, I was actually about to head out now”
Just as you were about to take a step out of the room a loud crash could be heard from the party room. Curses from both Bonnie and Freddy could be heard mainly Freddy telling Bonnie to calm down, only those weren’t the only words he used. Soon laughter erupted from Goldens mouth…his laughs always unsettled you.
- “I-I guess now is a good time as ever”
Chica chuckles her shoulders bouncing, nodding you follow her out adjusting your shirt and self for the mess that you’ll see. As soon as you made out to the party room you saw the main party table was flipped over and party hats were scattered everywhere. Freddy had a hand over his face as if collecting himself, a look all too familiar when he was trying to reign in his anger. You were guessing it didn’t help that Golden was on the floor legs in the air laughing his ass off, his laughter was the only thing in the room as it echoed almost mockingly.
- “Now Golden you get on now! Haven’t you caused enough trouble!”
Chica yells lifting her sleeves up marching over to the troublemaker. Glaring down placing her hands on her hips her face had a sour look, much like a mother about to scold their oldest.
- “Golden, what the hell did you do to Bonnie?”
Keeping your distance as the bear looks up to Chica having a staring match which looked as if Golden was winning, Golden scoffs rolling his eyes as he stands up.
- “Gawd, he so sensitive can’t even take a fucking joke-”
- “all you do is make jokes”
Freddy finally spoke as he glared at Golden who only rolled his eyes once again,
- “this is the third time that Bonnie has had an outburst like this”
Freddy was right, whatever Golden was saying to Bonnie has been taking a toll on the place it had gotten so bad that you’ve heard that they might turn Bonnie off.
- “all these damages that is comin’ from his tantrums are from you. And all you been doin is makin’ it worst!”
The room was quiet, Freddy was always good at bringing attention to his friends and helping them take responsibility.
- “bite me”
And Golden was not one that cared for them as you did. He grins as he teleports away, Freddy grunts as he loosens his tie taking off his hat as he sits on the party chair,
- “oh Fred, you tried”
Chica smiles as she comes over behind Freddy massaging his shoulders.
- “hey Freddy, I can try and talk to Bonnie! Maybe if I can figure out why Golden is picking on him then maybe he’ll have less outbursts!”
You offer Freddy as there was another silence,
- “sure (Y/N), give it a shot”
Freddy finally lifts his head up as he smiles at you, nodding you take you leave to the the side of the stage where a door was, grabbing your keys you unlock the door opening to find other doors. To the side was Bonnie’s room as you’ve been shown it by him many times before. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door you prepare yourself for whatever Bonnie could throw at you. Your knocks were soft as you heard a muffle come in, turning the knob you walk in.
He was sitting with his head propped on his knees as he sulked, his ears flopped down with defeat as he stared at the wall. His foot bouncing up and down, almost like a real rabbit when they stomp their feet. You had to force every ounce of your body not to giggle.
- “Bonnie, are you okay?”
You knew he wasn’t, but isn’t that what everyone asks, you go to sit next to him as you place your hands in your lap. The silence was evident that he wasn’t, as he looked away from you. During the time you’ve known Bonnie he had never raised his voice to you, even when he was upset. It was something you liked about him, he had always seemed to welcome you when he was feeling down.
- “hey, I don’t know what Golden said to you but, forget about him.”
Bonnie didn’t say anything so you decided to carry on,
- “don’t give him so much power! He probably annoys you because he has nothing else to do in the basement”
Your sass causes Bonnie to chuckle a little as his shoulders bounced he finally turns to you smiling, his foot resting.
- “geez he’s annoying”
You laugh,
- “you’re just now realizing~”
You tease him as you place your head on his shoulders, you don’t see it but it causers the bunny to blush. As he grins, trying to hide his goofy smile as he looks away again.
- “so, what did Golden say to make you so upset?”
His thumping continues as he grips his sleeve,
- “I-it’s embarrassing, I honestly shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it”
- “but, it always keeps happening, maybe if you talked about it, you can get it off your mind and it won’t bother you!”
Bonnie thumping got slower but it was still prominent, you place a hand on his shoulder causing him to jump he looks to you and you finally see his blush.
- “Bonnie, you can tell me”
- “he.. he said, you’d be better off.. with him, and that I could never… get with you…”
Him talking was like ripping a band-aid, as his face got red saying out loud of what Golden has been saying to him.
- “oh Bonnie, that is a little silly, why would you listen to that doofus when you know he’s wrong”
- “I-I guess it really got to me, I’d absolutely hate it if you went with a guy like him”
Bonnie huffs but it soon dies down as you kiss his cheek,
- “oh please, never in a million years~”
Bonnie smiles as you place your head on his shoulder again,
- “you’re sweet and kind Bonnie, I’m lucky to have met you”
- “I think that’s my line”
You both chuckle as you close your eyes, patting Bonnie’s upper arm,
- “don’t let Golden get to you please, I don’t want to loose you”
- “heh, I promise no more outbursts”
You both sat in comfortable silence as Bonnie leaned over to grab and tune his guitar, hearing the vibrations of the strings brought tranquility to the room as you closed your eyes on Bonnie’s shoulder.
- “hey maybe I can teach you how to pla-“
- “Bonnie Bunny get your Cotten tail out here and clean your mess!”
Both you and Bonnie stopped as you looked to one another soon running out the door before Freddy came and knock down the door.
…..
283 notes
·
View notes
Text
MW3 SPOILERS
Drabble(?) Writing under the cut.
A letter from a dead man (to another) —
[Soap left a letter for Ghost, just in case the worst happened— and turns out, it did.]
To Simon Riley,
I guess saying I’m sorry is the best way to start things off here.
Don’t ask why I got the impulse to write this, alright? Last mission got me thinking a lot. It got me thinking about life, about you, about myself. Realising that I loved you, and you love me too, got me thinking even more. We could’ve died, Simon. Died without knowing how much we fucking loved each other too, Jesus. Talk about a sobfest.
Took a lot of courage to admit it. I saw that you struggled too, L.t. But I’m glad we did, even though it wasn’t the most romantic place to say it. While we were hiding from enemies too, for christ’s sake. But that’s what got us to say it and I don’t regret it one bit. Especially not the part afterwards.
Okay, getting sidetracked here. What I wanted to say is that I’ve always known, Simon. I’ve always known that you were mine and I am yours. I plan on making it official too, gonna take you to the nicest place and have the fanciest meal before I get down on my knees. As long as you didn’t beat me to it. Knowing you though, maybe you will.
But that’s not what we’re here for, are we?
You’re reading this now because I didn’t make it. I don’t want to think about it, about a future where I can’t see you anymore, but if I haven’t burned this and it’s in your hands, then that’s what happened. We didn’t get married either. Because I promised myself to write another letter if we had. Our line of work, gotta be prepared for the worst, you know?
I’m sorry.
Whatever happened, I’m so fucking sorry.
I’m sorry for making you feel like this again. I know you’ve lost a lot, went through a lot of horrendous shit you shouldn't have, came out of everything a Ghost for fuck’s sake, and I was really, really hoping it wouldn’t - won’t happen to us. But it did. Because you’re reading this, I know it did.
I owe you so much, Simon. I owe you a cosy little place of our own, I owe you a kiss every day you wake up and every night you close your eyes, I owe you hugs, lots of them, whenever you need it. Whenever you don’t need it too. I owe you my heart, my soul, my entire being, every single little thing that you can take. It’s yours anyway. I owe you so much. But I couldn’t even give you myself, my name, my anything now.
Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of it.
If anything, it’s probably my fault. Blame me, okay? Put everything on my name, curse me to high heavens and hell, enough to have my body rolling in my grave and all. Don’t let me rest even after my death. Anything but blaming yourself for this. You’re not fucking allowed to put this on yourself, do you understand? I’m haunting you if you do. Better watch out, Simon Riley. Especially if you want a good night’s sleep or a good cup of tea from here on out.
Jokes aside. You know I tried, right? I would’ve fought the world with my bare hands for you, pretty man. Would've wrangled death and crawled to your side at the expense of fuck everything. I’m just. Sorry, I guess. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t rip my heart out and hand it out just for you to hold.
Fuck. My eyes are tearing up. Don’t mind if there’s some dried up tears on this. I’m trying. Really am, but I don’t know what’s worse, Simon. I don't know. Imagining a world where I can’t see your bonnie face again, or imagining you alone after everything. Bloody fuck. I don't think any amount of sorries can fix this. But I’ll say it again.
I’m really fucking sorry, Simon.
I love you so much, you daft old man. I love you beyond anything I could say, write, do or express. I love you so much I would’ve done anything just to be a John Mactavish Riley and stay by your side.
But you’re reading this.
And you know I can’t.
A lifetime’s worth of sorries can’t fix this, I know. Gonna kiss and hold you extra hard the next time I see you, L.t. Sorry in advance, even though that’s probably the ‘past’ for you. I’m planning to yank that mask right off, press my lips against every square inch of that pretty boy face and tell you how much I love you until you get sick of it. Until you have to force me away, probably grumbling and asking me what’s wrong because you’re not used to it.
You’re not used to being loved, are you?
I love you so much.
I don’t know what to do with this love sometimes. Death can’t stop it either, if you’re wondering. Know that my heart was bursting with it till the end. Know that you were probably the last thought in my head. You’ll always have my love, my soul, dead or alive. What we have goes beyond life and death. You know that, I know that. Wherever I am, if there’s even ‘anything’ beyond, know that I’m missing you to hell and back, Simon Riley.
Don’t be eager to follow me. Please. I want you to live. You’ve been dead for so long, it hurts my heart to even think about you returning to how you were before me. Empty eyes, not letting anything or anyone close, a sad fucker underneath that brooding mask. Pretty too but you already know that. Don’t be a stubborn shit about this, I’m waiting for you. There’s nothing else for me to do.
I don’t know if you’ll get it too but I’ll keep the rings I bought for us next to the letter. Proof, maybe, I don’t know. I want you to have it. Keep it safe. Took a lot to get your size right, couldn’t even risk asking directly because you’d know immediately, smart fucker. Did you know you’re starting to sleep like a log these days? Felt like yesterday that you woke up to the sound of paper shuffling from the other room. Here you are, sleeping like a wee bairn without knowing any better. Anyway, you’re mine.
I’m yours.
Always have been, always will.
Take care, Simon.
PS: I love you.
PPS: I love you a lot. Don’t do anything stupid, I know it sounds real hypocritical of me if you’re reading this but seriously, don’t. See you soon, Simon.
PPPS: Preferably not soon-soon. Grow grey hair before you get here, see the world, do everything you want first. Jesus, I don’t even know what you’re doing right now. Don’t mope and waste away, you still have my love, you tit.
Goodbye, for now.
[This is an excerpt from the wip of the next chapter of my fic, Beyond Life and Death. It's on hiatus though, probably needs to be rewritten really.]
#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghost soap#mwiii spoilers#mw3 spoilers#drabble#fic#musings ; my writing#musings ; beyond life and death#girl help how do i tag#fanfic#angst#ghoap angst#im sorry for this
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
Neil Newbon's Heisenberg Playlist
So I watched this great interview with Neil Newbon ‒ the VA and motion actor for Heisenberg, terrifically talented guy. With encouragement from the text chat, he shared a few of the tracks on the playlist he created for Heisenberg ‒ something he apparently likes to do for a lot of the characters he plays.
One track, called simply "John", was by a band called the Cold Stares (in Neil's words: hard fucking rock, very gritty, very dirty, with a country edge).
youtube
John won’t you dig that grave,
John won’t you dig that grave,
John won’t you dig that grave,
Gonna bury you in that hole someday.
On paper, it's a song about a man tracking down the grave digger (John) that his wife is having an affair with, but just taking the sound and that chorus line? Oh boy, can I hear it!
But the other song Neil singled out from his playlist? "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt.
youtube
'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't
And I mean... damn. I guess you could maybe find a way to spin it as about parental love (or lack thereof) between Heisenberg and Miranda, but that sure ain't where my mind went... XD
There's plenty more great stuff in that full interview ‒ a lot about how much he loves doing performance capture, as a medium where he gets to play so many different characters he'd never be cast as in live action. When cast as Heisenberg, he was apparently told only mid-Atlantic accent, which is a hell of a feature to emphasise.
He talks a bit about his work as Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 too (because, y'know, it's not enough that this guy is Heisenberg, he's also the whole damn Internet's new elf-vampire-boyfriend too), as the game was already in early access by then, even if it was still years short of release. The full interview is a two-hour stream, but well worth a listen.
But the one last related detail I'd like to share here is one other track by the Cold Stares which I found in their discography while looking for "John", and which I have to say strikes me as another terrific Heisenberg track ‒ Dig my grave with a silver spade... Six foot in the ground and I can't get away.
Neil doesn't mention it himself, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if it's in his playlist somewhere. It's called "Headstone Blues".
youtube
I woke up this morning, with the headstone blues
She's gonna kill me, gonna cut me loose
Tied my tie in a pretty noose
I can't win, she can't lose
I ain't the first, no, I ain't the first to leave you
Oh but I know, I may be the last
Dig my grave with a silver spade
Find a weeping willow to give me shade
Bring me flowers on a summer day
Six foot in the ground and I can't get away
I ain't the first, no, I ain't the first to leave you
Oh but I know, I may be the last
121 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
