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pupcuck · 6 months

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PUPPY LOVE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x f!reader

tags. puppy hybrids, knotting, chris is the owner but he’s like not fucking, virginity loss, vendetta leon, age gap, lots of spit

notes. i write gn reader usually but this is super sickeningly self indulgent so it’s fem reader ughdhfh im so sorry this is crossposted on my ao3 :3 NOT BETA READ If u see a typo no you didn’t!!! I am so humiliated by this fic um this only makes sense with vendetta Leon so keep him in mind

“C’mon, buddy, ain’t it a cutie?” You’re being held up, some scary man's hands under your armpits, legs dangling in the air as he shows you off to an older dog.

It. How rude. You’re a lady for god's sake. An ill-tempered little lady in fact. This is growing tedious, so you let out a noise of warning, and clamp down on his forearm with your canines. They’re just in. Fresh and white. Had taken a while, you were a bit of a late bloomer, but they're here now, and that’s all that matters.

“Shit,” the man clicks his tongue, “you got some spunk, huh, pup?” He places you down on the ground, and you sink to your knees with a soft huff. “What’d you think, Leon?”

So that’s his name. The older dog, Leon. He looks worn out and mean. Brows furrowed, wrinkled forehead, dark hair that obscures most of his face. What a creep. You’ve been set up, the old lady at the pet shop told you this was going to be fun! She said you were gonna meet someone handsome, a stud who’d give you puppies. This dog looks like he doesn’t even go into rut anymore. His glory days are so over. Ten years past his prime. You stick your nose in the air and refuse to acknowledge him. He does the same.

“Leon, come on, buddy,” the man, well, you guess he’s your owner now, tries to coax him over, “don't be like this.”

Leon simply rolls onto his side, his ears flopping over so the pink underside is seen. Rude. You’re so pretty any normal mutt would be begging for it. But, you guess he’s just faulty. ‘Cause he’s an old man. Duh. This is so unfair, a pampered pooch like you deserves so much better. A two bedroom apartment with a single bathroom, and an open-plan kitchen is just not classy.

“Fuck, Leon, you always gotta be so damn difficult.” Your owner crouches down, fastens a collar around your neck. It’s pink so that's good at least. You’re a stupid pup, can’t quite make out what’s engraved on the doggy bone charm, but you assume it would be your name. “There you go, girl, you like it?”

You tilt your head to the side, but ultimately nod your head with a forced smile. Getting on your owner’s good side would be ideal. Maybe he’d spoil you a little extra. He’s awfully handsome when you take a moment to really look at him. Why couldn’t he have been the stud?

“That’s a good girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your head, “why don’t you go make yourself comfortable, pup?” He gives you a little smack on the bottom, makes you jump. Gosh. His hands are so big. He’s so big. You felt the way he flexed under your teeth earlier. So much meat to him.

With another huff, you walk around, sniff the couch cushions, press a dainty paw to the wall, admire all the framed photos. They’ve been together for a long time it seems. Your owner and Leon. He used to be perfectly pretty. Sunflower blonde, dopey smile on his slightly rounded face, puppy fat softening all his rough edges. Cute. You wish he still looked like that. His tail looks like more of a blur in the photos, towards the end he starts to mellow out, turning into what you’ve seen of him today. Moody.

“Leon was a military dog,” your owner explains. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s important. Considering all the strange clothes with leather straps and that ugly green print, there’s even a gun in your owner’s hands. “He’s retired now though. I thought you’d cheer him up a little.”

You blink at your owner, pressing your nose into his hand when he offers it, pink tongue licking at his salty fingers. Yeah, you like him. He’s firm and sweet. Smiles at you in a way that’s kind. Leon is the only problem. Whatever. He’ll kick the bucket soon enough, or maybe your owner will get tired of him. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you’ve got plenty up your sleeve to show off. Rolling over, batting your lashes, smiling, looking pretty. You’ve got it handled.

“You know how to speak, pup?” Owner cups your cheeks, “my name is Chris,” he says it slowly, waits till you repeat it back to him.

“Chris…” you’re hesitant to speak, unsure of if you did it right. He pats your head, offers you a paw-shaped treat, that must mean you did well.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Gosh. You like him lots ‘n lots. This place ain’t so bad after all.

“She’s settling in well,” Chris is on the phone with somebody, “no, course not, god, she’s a star.” He’s talking ‘bout you, and you like it. You’re the apple of his eye these days.

He scratches behind your ears as you sit beside him, chewing on a squeaky toy you gnawed at so bad it popped. Leon is laying on the floor as usual, sleeping soundly on a warm spot. You'd given him a shifty kick earlier, but he just grunted through a heavy snore.

It gets lonely when Chris leaves for the day, you often find yourself nesting in his bed, sniffing his pillow, chewing on one of his shirts for comfort. You get scolded for all the pin-sized holes left by your needle-sharp teeth, but you continue to do it. Leon is mean. He bares his teeth when you try to play, kicks you away when you try to curl into him at night, all sorts of things. He’s no fun, it’s why you cling to Chris’ leg, whine and scratch at the door, kick your legs and throw back your head to wail.

The door clicks shut after a short tussle between your teeth and the rough fabric of Chris’ jeans. You sniffle and curl up against the front door. This is so cruel of him. Why can’t he just stay and play all day? You have so many games planned that Leon never wants to partake in. Tug of war, fetch, tummy rubs, kisses, cuddles. It’ll be so much fun! And yet there’s nobody to do it with.

You nose at his cheek as he sleeps in his usual spot. Just by the window, bathed in the warmth of the yolky sunlight, chest rising and falling in tandem with his breaths. His nose scrunches ever so often, his tail mostly still, other than the little flick to the side it makes when you approach him carefully. He smells good. That’s the one thing you like about Leon. His scent. It’s thick and rich and has your gut bubbling with an unfamiliar feeling. However, you welcome it, it feels good to you. Makes you squeeze your thighs together.

“Leon,” your slurring speech makes his brows furrow, his lips downturned, “play with me.”

A low sound rumbles deep in his chest when you continue to prod at him, is he seriously growling at you? This dog has no manners whatsoever. Seriously, who raised him? It can’t have been Chris. “Leon,” you drag it out this time, whining as you clamber on top of him.

Sniffing his neck, you lick at his Adam’s apple, watch as it bobs when he swallows. He opens his eyes, glares at you through light lashes, swats at your face.

“Play with me, Leon,” your bottom lip juts out, giving him those eyes that no one is able to say no to. None of the pet shop workers could, and Chris certainly can’t, so Leon should surely fall for it.

Leon’s eye twitches, his lip curls upwards, flashing those big teeth of his. It’s a warning that you take with a grain of salt. “Leon, ‘m wanna play,” you say again, wriggling on top of him, your hands planted on that firm chest of his.

You’re a pest. A mutt at best. A bother, a hindrance, all of the above. Leon doesn’t know many other words. He has no clue on whose idea this was, couldn’t have been Chris on his own, must’ve been his sister. Or the lady with the pixie cut, one who brings him treats whenever she visits. ‘Cause Chris knows him well enough. Knows that Leon likes to be alone lately. That a new puppy is just an extra mouth to feed for Chris. He doesn’t need company, doesn’t appreciate a hyperactive pup kneeing him in the gut every hour in an attempt to play some kiddy games.

Total cutie. He’ll give you that. Soft and sweet like all puppies are. Floppy ears, fluffy tail, cute teeth that don’t do much damage. Droopy tits, layer of pudge that puppies tend to have, full hips, and a pert ass.

Now, Leon would never hurt you on purpose. It’s why he sticks to threats he never follows through with. Snarling, baring his teeth, the regular shit. Would get any normal pup scampering away from him, but you’re spoiled rotten. You get what you want at the drop of a hat. He blames that on Chris. Old age has made him sappy. Old age has only made Leon feel like shit. His bones ache on the daily, can’t even get up to bark at the mailman anymore, his walks have been cut down to half an hour once a day, finds it harder to chew on those dental bones Chris tosses him. Stressful times. And the cherry on top of his shit sandwich is you. The little nuisance who insists on bothering him no matter what.

“Leon,” you start again, talking in that high-pitched tone, an excessive amount of spit garbling your speech, “play!”

Christ, you don’t know when to give up. He gives you a light shove, hopes it’s enough to deter you, of course that's just wishful thinking. You bounce back fast. Pressing your forehead to his, you muster up your nastiest glare. Cute. You’re cute when you do that. “Play with me.” Each word is punctuated by your fists smacking down on his chest.

You’re hovering over him, bare bottom on his clothed lap, tits pressed flush to his chest. Every piece of clothing Chris tried to put on you was deemed itchy. Snipping off the labels never helped, you seem to only like cashmere, expensive taste. So he gave up. Lets you wander around in your birthday suit.

“I don’t want to play,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, expression contorting into one of restraint when you rock your hips back and forth absentmindedly. You’re being playful. Trying to get him up, trying to get any sort of reaction from him. But he can feel you. Leon’s been out of business for a long time. He was so damn sure his dick had malfunctioned a couple years back. No seed left to spare. This old dog was dried out.

This is all it took to get him fixed up? Puppy cunt? God. What a sicko. He sits up, hands on your hips to still you. Your brow quirks in confusion, blinking at him dumbly. Poor puppy. Don’t even know how wet you are. How your heady scent is coating the walls, making it unbearable for Leon to even breathe. He’s going fuckin’ crazy.

Leon pins you down, hair hanging in your face as he hovers over you. “Playing?” You ask him, face lighting up at the prospect of getting him to join in on your games.

Oh, he’ll teach you a new game, alright. It’s cute how you act all haughty, get Chris running around like a headless chicken ‘cause you’ve got so many demands, when really you’re just a stupid pup. Can’t even take care of yourself. Walkin’ around with this drippy pussy, an itch so deep in your core you can’t scratch it. Leon can’t lie, he’s cracked open an eye to see you trying your best to get rid of it. The ache in your lower belly. Rubbing yourself all over that pink teddy Chris brought back after a trip. Pressing its wet snout deep into your cunt to get rid of that strange tingle, but to no avail. Leon found it a little funny. He remembers being that way.

The sound you let out when he spreads your fat pussy is adorable. A whine that borders on a yelp. You’re frightened and confused for a moment, until his fingertips find your swollen clit, pushing back the hood, swiping over it again and again. Then you melt into a puddle of goop. That’s right. Must feel so damn good. You’ve got a chubby cunt, pillowy lips that hide your bud from his view, fluffy fur all over your tummy and crotch that’ll shed in a few months time and grow back in a darker shade. Cute little thing. He’s gonna eat you up.

He bullies his way between your thighs. Your scent is so much thicker now. Clinging to his skin in a way he’ll be unable to wash off. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has your hips bucking up, pelvis mashing into his nose a little painfully. Leon makes sure to hold you down. You’re sugary sweet in his mouth, like he’s bitten into a ripe fruit. Your pussy sure is the sweetest peach he’s ever seen.

“Leon…” you grab at his ears, tug on them to combat the immense pleasure that tears through you. Ouch. He’s gotta get Chris to trim those claws of yours down.

His hand is splayed across your tummy, holding you down as he buries his face in your cunt. Leon nips at your inner thighs then goes back to making those obnoxious noises that any lady with dignity would be mortified by. But you’re a stupid puppy that can’t tell left from right. Eyes rolling back into your skull as he slurps away, lips smacking noisily, his tongue fucking in and out of that tight hole.

Your toes curl in your fluffy socks, hips arching up despite his hold on them, pussy gushing like a burst pipe all over him. “There you go, atta girl,” Leon hums, flicking your clit one last time for good measure. He smiles at the sound you let out, a pitchy yap of irritation.

More where that came from. You got him all worked up. That hasn’t happened in years. His cock is dripping, a wet patch forms in the front of his sweats that he’s quick to lower. Your mouth waters at the sight, smiling at him all dopey. It’s instinct, it seems, for you to be a greedy, cock-hungry little pup. Leon’s all for enthusiasm, so he’ll give it to you, reward the spoiled little pup.

He’s sheathed inside of you in no time. You’re made for this sorta thing. Made to be a breeding bitch if he wants to get crude about it. So he doesn’t worry too much ‘bout how you’re adjusting. Just moves his hips forward sharply, fat tip jabbing at your cervix, and watching as you tremble.

“Mmm, Leon,” your nails scratch down his chest, ears flattening against your head as you gaze up at him with starry eyes. This all it takes to calm you down? Some dick? Leon’s willing to give it whenever you get rowdy. Spit pools in your mouth, dribbles down your chin, and he’s quick to lick it up. You don’t know how to kiss him. But you try. It’s clumsy and open-mouthed, your tiny hands cupping his stubbly cheeks as you just kinda slobber all over the lower half of his face. That’s alright. Leon got the hang of it after about five years. He can teach you.

You’re sucking his dick in, pussy tight around him like a vice, his balls slap against your ass. It’s so good. Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. Should’ve jumped you the moment Chris brought you home. What an idiot. He was basically gifting Leon a living fuckdoll and he missed out on it for a good month or so. You’re so easy, kicking your legs, and digging your nails into his biceps as you cream on his fat cock, leaving a ring of milky white around the base.

He’s old now, can’t help the way his breath is a little ragged as he nears his high, can’t last as long as he used to. Don’t matter anyway. ‘Cause you’re satisfied. He fills you up like a creampuff. There’s a little surprise on your face when his knot begins to swell, stretching your cute hole till it’s gaping.

“Fun.” You tell him with a sleepy smile. Leon’s tongue smooths over your fluffy ears, he remembers his fur being this soft. They’re wet with perspiration, but he likes the taste of you. He grooms you to his heart's content. It’s been a while since he’s done any of that. Makes him feel rather happy actually. Like a weight has lifted from his chest. You’re falling asleep so he manages to roll over, careful not to move too fast and tear you in half while he’s knotted. He has you on top of him, face in his neck as you snore lightly. The warmth is putting him to sleep too.

Leon only stirs when he hears the jingle of keys and a few voices from down the hall. You’re still knocked out and drooling. The front door opens, Chris is talking to someone he tries to pick up on through smell.

“Jesus, buddy, what’d you do to her?” Chris kneels down beside them, pats Leon’s head then yours.

“They do get along well, Chris,” it’s Rebecca, she’s smiling down at Leon, he can sniff out those expensive treats in the pocket of her winter coat. “Guess it’s just when you’re around.”

“No, no, I swear,” he holds his hands up in defence, “Leon’s always being a fuckin’ bastard when it comes to her.”

“You’re just being mean to him,” Rebecca says, cooing as she pinches Leon’s cheek, “hey, there, good boy.”

“Yeah,” Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, “sure, whatever, glad you like your new pal, buddy.”

#resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #my fics

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tamarabeck · 2 years

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Addendum to Little Dogs

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#pups&pooches #small

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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jombee x reader x jj where they’re having sex but one of the boys obviously has an attitude and is more angrier than the other. could be from something related or completely related but the other boy is like “hey man is everything alright? gonna break er😭”

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the bed frame smacking the wall became a rhythm your ears were fond of, unsure of the world around you as you get lost in the pleasure brought to you by your boyfriends. nothing else existed outside of that room in the chateau, and as you press your cheek harder into the jj’s thigh you feel time slip from you even more.

john b had had quite the day. three lost leads, a near arrest, and on top of that he’d forgotten to pay the tv bill — all leading to quite the shitty mood for him. you’d offered to let him take out some frustration on you, and whilst he’d usually kiss your temple and tell you that you’re “more than that, pup.” he instead stared at you for a moment, tight lipped and pensive before grappling your arm and dragging you to the bedroom. naturally, jj noticed the commotion and wandered in after the two of you — never wanting to miss out on the fun.

you’d been trying to suck jj off, craving the comfort of your blonde boyfriends touch and guiding hands whilst you let john b satisfy himself from behind, but with the firm and unforgiving thrusts the brunette was releasing on you — there was no way you could stay focused, removing the cock from your mouth to drop your cheek to jj’s lap, unable to finish the task.

maybank tongues at his cheek, sliding his eyes up to his angry best friend who channeled all his focus into the way your ass jiggled against his pelvis with each thrust.

“hey man, are you good? you go any harder and uh, i think you’re gonna break ‘er.” he sasses, stroking your head in a composed manner to acknowledge you. really, he was just a little peeved you were unable to give him equal attention.

“i’m fine, jj. kinda focused here.” john b mutters, punching out whiny little ‘ah, ah, ah!’s from you with each thrust.

“yep, uh — can see that dude. you wanna take it easy? or…”

without a second of hesitation, john b scoops your body up against his, holding you by the throat to make eye contact with jj. john b tucks his chin onto your shoulder, glancing at you from the side. “everything good pup? you wanna stop?” he asks as if he already knows the answer, staring into his best friends blue eyes.

“d’nt stop— please—” you cry out and john b nods once, lips pressed together before pushing your face back down against jj’s lap.

“as i thought. any more concerns, jayj?” he asks, pulling back and grinding his cock back inside you making you shudder with a yelp.

“n—nah. that about covers it.” he responds awkwardly before dropping his gaze back to you, instead spending his energy on stroking at your cheeks supportively. “damn, poor pooch.”

─── ⋆⋅🐩⋅⋆ ───

#josibunn #jj x reader x john b

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lionasvault · 7 days

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based on this ask to @/princessbrunette . pup x johnbee!

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you hate getting overwhelmed. you go nonverbal if there is too much sound, too many feelings, smells, or people. jonbee was the only person you know who could effectively take care of you when you felt this way.

you're at the beach with the pogues. they were telling stories, surfing, swimming, and laughing. you try to follow along, but you just can't.

the sun is too warm, your swimsuit and bracelets are too itchy, and your ice water's melted. you hate drinking lukewarm water, it's so icky. jonbee's talking to jayj, all the way across from you. your eyes are watery, your mind all fuzzy and uncomfortable, and you just can't think anymore.

you don't know how long has passed, staring off into space, until you hear jayj's close voice. "yo, pooch, you good?" he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he crouches in front of you. "hey- hey, john b, come on over."

next thing you know, you're being scooped up into johnbee's large, ocean-water-soaked arms, rocked back and forth. freeing one of his hands, he searches through your beach bag for your small noise-canceling earbuds. not saying anything, he presses them into your ears, holding you close to his chest.

your senses are completely cut off from the sounds of the beach, the bright sun, and the warmth constricted by the cold ocean water on jonbee. your stomach quickly stops feeling sick, your shaking stops and your eyes start coming into focus again. he's petting your hair, rocking you like a baby.

"thanks," you mutter, still having trouble finding words. he doesn't respond, just giving you a soft kiss on your head.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

#puppy!reader #john b prompt

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marcosvitor1996 · 7 months

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Inktober 1 - Pooch the Pup with a bone on his mouth.

#pooch the pup #inktober #inktober2023

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bratzforchris · 4 days

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Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”, “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort.

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits.

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face.

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest.

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself.

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate.

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness.

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back.

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better.

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow.

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter.

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled.

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup.

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything.

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee.

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered.

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade.

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined.

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?”

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red.

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted.

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door.

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again.

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Note

I know I had already popped up earlier, but the last focus was about the PetAU, and it do be givin' me thoughts, though...

Just Mr Simon 'I'm never fuckin' jealous' 'Ghost' Riley finding a nice, pretty thing that he's been dating for a about, say.. a year and some months. He has Riley, sweet pup that he is, and he would have dropped you if Riley didn't like you. Thank the Gods that Riley found you acceptable, and you accepted the pooch back! Hurrah!

Yet.. a problem at the same time. Your attention was on the dog, telling the dog 'good boy', smooching the dogs face, giving the dog attention, attention, attention.. He wasn't fuckin' jealous.. So what is the reason why you come back home, having dropped Riley off at a few-day long doggy daycare at Simon's request, and find him on his knees, naked, wearing nothing but dog ears, a collar and- holy shit, was that a tail plug??

"Go on then, love. Tell me I'm a good boy."

this is so so tasty.

You've never mentioned it to Simon because you didn't want to scare him away with the fact that you liked to pet play, as both a pet and a handler.

But here he was, giving himself to you on a glistening silver platter, and there was no way you were going to pass this up.

He's your good boy, now— so you told him as such.

"You are just so precious." You crouched in front of his kneeled form and cupped his large face in your dainty hands. "Aren't you the most handsome pup ever? Hm?"

Simon's face flushes with the praise you shower him with— you can feel his skin warm under your touch— but you can't even control it now. The words spill from your mouth like water out of a faucet.

"Such a big, strong boy. You look like a wrestler, but I bet all the money in the world that you're a nuzzler. Just a soft, kind dog that wants love and attention, yeah?"

You're babbling at this point, but Simon is glowing under your admiration, and he looks so good on all fours. With a gentle, "Stay," you start to trail your fingers from his furry ears down— his spine arching under your touch and back muscles rippling under his skin— until you reach his thick tail.

"If this was real, I've no doubt it would be wagging, smacking me in the face. Isn't that right, handsome?"

Coiling the tip of his tail around two fingers, you give it a slight pull, and soothe him with a palm of your hand on his arsecheek when he hisses at the sensation.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know. You look so good in this; I simply couldn't resist. Now sit for me, pup."

Simon sits back on his folded legs, hands resting in between his thick thighs, and you chuckle when you notice his erection at full mast, tip slick as it leaks precum.

"Want me to help you with that?"

He only stares at you, half-lidded eyes dark, swirling with lust.

"Speak."

Simon barks once.

"Good boy, handsome."

He can't stop the whine that slithers out from behind his clenched teeth when you wrap your hand around his fat, heavy cock and give him a squeeze.

Shushing him, you give him a few painfully slow pumps— skin bunching up on the upstroke— and press your thumb lightly on his slit.

"Your knees may be padded, but mine aren't," you hinted.

Getting up with a slight groan, a rub to your achy knees, and with one scrape of your nails on his head, you command him.

"Heel."

As you make your way towards the bedroom, the sound of his collar tinkling with each movement he makes sends a jolt to your throbbing core— arousal already dampening your knickers.

Simon barking is sending me into a tizzy i don't think you understand

#simon ghost riley #call of duty

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houseofoddballs · 4 months

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Loved and Lost

Based HEAVILY on @charliemwrites 1fur1 AU!! Recently fell in love with a dog that I can't have after reading through their "Woof Woof Johnny" things, and it absolutely tore me up inside because the sweet boy looked a lot like I imagined her Ghost boy to look. So you are given this. I poured a lot of that pain into this fic, and i hope you like it. (2,644 words)

They say that the more the loss hurts, the more you loved. Maybe that’s why you’ve cried yourself to sleep the past week, his favorite blanket clutched to your chest. “Grow up (Y/n), it’s just a dog.” Your sister had chided when she caught wind of the incident, your mother must have told her. She was never really an animal person.

A whiff of pin and gunpowder fills your nose, tantalizing you with the essence of that sweet dog who would sit patiently near you no matter where you were in the house. The fluff of the black blanket was soft, but nowhere near the dense fur of your cream colored good boy. If you closed your eyes, you could still see his face, his sweet sweet face. It didn’t matter what you were doing, those brilliant amber eyes were always trained on you, peeking up from the black skull-like patch of fur on his face. But he wasn’t yours anymore. Your Ghost had been wrenched away from you by the cruel jaws of fate, taken away from you in a horrible accident. It wasn’t abnormal for Ghost to disappear into the woods for a day or two at a time, but this time in particular was different.

You didn’t think anything of the way that Ghost sat in front of the door, blocking your exit stoically. A small huff of laughter pulled past your lips as you dropped to your knees and cupped your pooches face in your hands and went to place a gentle kiss on his fluffy forehead. Ghost wasn’t too keen on touch, preferring to initiate by laying on you or something, but in those rare moments where he did want affection he would express it by doing something like blocking your path like this. So imagine your surprise when he huffed and snapped his head to the side, pulling out of your hands like a pouting child. “Fine, have it your way big guy, but I still need to get to work.”

But he didn’t want that. He growled as you stood, His fur fluffing up as he also raised from his haunches to block your exit. He was adamant that you weren’t leaving. As much as you wanted to stay home with your pup, you were already going to be cutting it close to clocking in late. So, you tricked him. You walked into your room, closed him out, and climbed out your window. You were on the first floor, so it’s not like the drop was going to kill you. But you should have known better. As soon as your feet hit the ground, Ghost was there, growling with an unsaid threat.

He tried so desperately to get you to stay, you honestly felt so bad with the way that he chased your car well down the driveway and past. Your heart absolutely broke as you finally watched him give up through your rearview mirror, his chest heaving and his brown eyes looking so desperate as his figure grew smaller and smaller until he turned around and walked into the forest, his head hung low.

That was the last normal moment you spent with him. Brushing him to the side and heading to work. You wished you had just called out, or better yet, quit entirely. When you made your way home, it was with apology treats and even some new toys for enrichment (Even though Ghost had always preferred sticks to proper toys.) Pulling into your driveway, you hurriedly made your way inside, calling for your pup with a grin on your face. “Ghost! Ghost! I’m home!... baby boy?” You expected him to be laying on the couch or your bed pouting like he always did when he didn’t get what he wanted. But he was mysteriously absent. You shrugged it off, figuring that he was still in the forest doing whatever it was he did. You didn’t think anything when he was gone the next day either, chalking it up to you making him really mad. Ghost always knew how to hold a grudge, after all. It was the fourth and fifth days that began to drive you mad with worry. You had begun combing through the forrest until your legs were heavy and your throat was sore calling for Ghost, dreading the thought that maybe he was laying somewhere, hurt and alone. You didn’t dare entertain the thought that he might be dead. Finally, midway through the fifth day, a heavy knock came at your door. You must have looked a mess, heavy baggs under your eyes, sloppy unbrushed hair, still in your hiking clothes from yesterday. You opened the door to a strapping older gentleman with a kind face and an impressive set of chops. “Hello, mam. Is this the house of Miss (Y/n) (L/n)?”

His voice was kind, a british accent intertwining with his words like clouds in the sky. Any other day, you would probably be incredibly flustered by this attractive and muscular man ending up on your doorstep, but not today, not with Ghost gone. It just felt incomplete without him trying to push his furry head through the doorway to growl at the strange man. You had to swallow hard, biting back tears at the thought as you nodded your head. “Yes, that’s um- That’s me.” Your throat was too tight, voice too high, laced with too much stress and exhaustion.

A flash of remorse and regret passed over the mans face for a moment, and you definitely feared the worst. He cleared his throat and placed his hand in his pocket, pulling out a familiar leather strap with a silver buckle and silver tags. Your breath caught in your throat as a shaky hand reached out to gently brush against the collar. A whiff of pine and gunpowder caught in your throat, making you retract your hand to your chest so quickly as if you were burnt.

Tears flooded your eyes and down your cheeks as you let out a choked sob. “No, no, NO!” This couldn’t be happening, not Ghost. Not your sweet boy Who you couldn’t convince to get into bed with you at night, but you would wake up to him licking your face in the middle of the night as he laid on your chest. Not the big brute who would pull your dirty laundry into his bed while you were gone just because he missed you. Not your precious puppy who huffed and grumbled whenever you got the urge to have photoshoots because he was just such a gorgeous dog. Not your Ghost.

The man knelt down next to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder as he held the collar out to you once more, his voice deceivingly soft as it caressed your ears. “I’m sorry lass, he’s gone…”

Ghost sat in the back of a military vehicle, skull balaclava fit neatly over his face and covering the deep frown that pulled at his lips. Hybrids were never meant to find mates, it’s why they were supposed to be doped up with suppressants and kept away from normal society. They were the military’s bioweapons, nothing else. They weren’t people, they weren’t given the graces of normal lives, they didn’t get to enjoy life unless it was in the ridiculous way that Johnny seemed to milk joy from every part of their job to keep his spirits up. Simon almost forgot.

It was so easy to forget what kind of monster he was when your hands were so gentle, smoothing down and running through his fur so tenderly, cooing softly at him as you stared down at him with those big doe eyes of yours, humming softly as you filled his dish, surrounded by your comfort and scent, the comfort and scent of his mate.

His grip on his gun was especially tight, his teeth gritting as he imagined the devastation you were going to feel. He had fought tooth and nail against the entire squad to keep the collar, going as far as to challenge Price. But not even Ghost could hold his own in a fight against his squad and his alpha.

“Can ya’ believe the’re shippin us all the way to the bloody states? Downright mad lads.” Ghost shot a nasty glare at Johnny, making the poor boy practically wilt in place. Normally Ghost would be thankful for the distraction that Johnny provided, but not when he was being distracted from you. He could still remember the scent of your shampoo, the sound of your voice, the feel of your soft hands on his face as he ripped his head out of your grip. What he wouldn’t give for one last kiss right now. He had to bite back the tears that threatened to prick his eyes, a feeling so foreign that he couldn’t even remember the last time he cried.

He knew it was coming. It was all so perfect. He could leave during the day to meet up with the squad, go out on whatever stupid mission was required of them, whether it required the wolf or the man, and at the end of the day he would come back to you. He would come back to your soft giggles and your warm cuddles. He wasn’t the best at showing it, or the most affectionate, but god did he love you.

Turns out, they aren’t lying when they say one missed day is enough to knock medication out of your system. One day without his suppressants, and he had been drawn away from his pack formation by the most peculiar scent. Simon didn’t remember what he smelt like that day, but he remembered how it made him feel. Seeing you in the middle of the woods, humming so softly and sweetly to yourself through your earbuds, was like meeting god. His chest was suddenly tight, his knees almost too weak to hold him up, his heart thrumming in his chest, his fur bristling, a shiver running down his spine. He had to resist the urge to take off after you. But you were too sweet for him, too gentle, he would ruin you. So he turned away. Simon is nothing if not a man of patience and restraint, but walking away from you was the hardest thing in his life.

He had told himself that it was just not having the suppressants in his system that was driving him mad, that you were just a pretty girl and his instincts were reacting to the first female they found. But when he returned to base and felt no such thrumming in his heart or tightening in his drawers for any of the few females on base, he knew that it was more than instinct. Ghost stopped taking his suppressants after that. He would flush them down the toilet, throw them away, put them in his pillowcase, whatever it took to keep Price from finding out. Every day the pack would pass your house on their training regimen, just close enough that your scent could flood his nostrils and fill him with that shaky feeling of pure bliss.

One day though, you found him. Simon could never forget the look of pure awe and adoration as you caught sight of him through the trees, slowly getting down on your knees and holding your hand out as you cooed. “Such a pretty puppy, oh my goodness. Who do you belong to?” And that was the final nail in Simon’s coffin. Sweet thing you were, smart too. You didn’t even make eye contact upon first meeting, a surefire way to challenge any other wolf. Not Simon though, he knew that you would never challenge him like that.

When he returned to base that night, it was with a dopy grin under his skull balaclava, his hand absentmindedly over his heart. He had been careful to roll around in the dirt, scrubbing himself of any of your delicate scent. He made up some excuse to Price about disciplinary training, living in the wilds and whatnot. Whatever he had to say to stay with you.

God, it had been great. Getting to come home every night to you. Getting to relax on the couch with you, simply bask in your presence. You were like a goddess, his savior in this damned world. You would delight in playing with his paws that were almost as big as your tiny hands, completely unaware of how many lives they had crushed. You would let him lick at your face without the slightest idea of how many throats those jaws had ripped out mercilessly. You would change in front of him so peacefully, without the slightest idea that it was a man hungerly watching you. But Simon would never make a move. Even if you knew what he was. He didn’t deserve you, he couldn’t taint you with his filth. He was content to simply be with you, to exist with you, to bask in your presence as if it were the sun.

All it takes is one mistake.

“You wear perfume now Lt? Smells fuckin amazing, i’d rail ya smellin’ like that.” Soap’s teasing comment was easily brushed aside as one of his usual flirtatious remarks with no base, but the damage had already been done. Ghost had gotten complacent, used to having his cake and eating it too. So the one day that he didn’t fully cover your scent, of course a pack of male hybrids would notice. Simon made eye contact with Price from across the room, watching as he lifted his head and sniffed the air.

“Lieutenant. My office, now.” “Yes, sir.”

A deep sigh pulled from Price’s chest as he drug a hand down his face from his perch atop his chair behind his desk. Simon didn’t know what to expect, but he already had a million excuses ready on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for the signal to burst free. What he didn’t expect was for Price to reach into his drawer and pull out a plastic baggie of the little white pills that Simon had been decidedly not taking.

“Mind explainin’ why you’re clean fella?” A grunt. That was all Simon could muster. There was no reasonable excuse for that, and he knew it. Price’s eyes darkened with recognition as he gave a single curt nod. “That’s what I thought. You get one more night, Ghost.”

Simon’s eyes practically bulged out as he looked at Price, an obvious question in his gaze. Why? Price, ever vigilant, only sighed in response- the air leaving his lungs as if it were heavy and laden with history that Ghost could only imagine. “Say goodbye, son. You’re not gonna get another opportunity.”

This isn’t what Simon thought Price had meant. Moving the Task Force all the way to the bloody states. When you left for work that day, you took Simon’s heart with you. You surely didn’t even notice your favorite picture with your pup absent from it’s frame. A bitter chuckle left Ghost’s lips at the thought of how little you really saw about your environment. Even when Simon had been living with you as well as Ghost, you never noticed.

So as you laid in bed, sobbing your heart out and clutching his blanket close with one hand, the other hand so tight around the black leather strap what your knuckles were white; Simon was all too far away, pressing his chapped lips softly against the picture of you from a tiny cold cot in a base somewhere in america, trying not to do the same. He could picture your small frame, trembling as sob wracked through you and tore you up inside.

Why does loving something have to hurt so bad?

#simon ghost riley #cod #ghost mw2 #one shot #angst #no happy ending #Hurt #my writing #@Charliemwrites #1fur1 #my heart is breaking #but i'll live #it will just take some time #and some healing #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction

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rcross62 · 11 months

Text

Sleepy pooch

#dog #pup #pooch #red #doggo #buddy #mine #mutt

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shadowhearts-ponytail · 5 months

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meeting abby anderson!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

a/n: I saw a fic (university!abby anderson by @writerseclipse1 ) a couple of days ago, and it reminded me of the opening scene in 101 Dalmatians. so this is inspired by that!

warnings: all lowercase intended, fem!reader, modern au, soft blushy abby, alice being a menace. this is just sweet stuff for a sweet girl!

words: 1,029

abby lived alone in a small, dingy apartment. it definitely wasn't the best. but it had a nice view of the local park. she could see the leaves change colors in the fall, and then snow cover the ground in the winter. she liked it. it was cozy. perfect for her and her loyal canine companion alice.

alice always enjoyed looking out to window that over looked the park. seeing other dogs walking, occasionally barking at them. like today. alice saw a woman, you, walking your dog in the park below. barking and whining to get her owner's attention, alice then begged and begged abby for a walk.

abby gave in. like always. she knew she needed to get out of the apartment. some fresh air would do her some good. get to stretch her legs too.

so abby donned a jacket and a cap along with some shoes, latching a leash onto alice's collar before exiting her apartment. the pair taking the short walk down and across the street to the park.

orange and red leaves falling from the many trees that decorate the park. their leaves litter the ground. abby is too intranet by the beautiful scenery to notice where alice is tugging her.

alice meanwhile is on a mission, searching the park for a dog she saw earlier on the street.

your dog.

her head bows to the ground to sniff in hopes of finding the fellow pooch.

alice tugs abby along the old beaten brick paths that weave around the park, stopping here and there to look at some dogs. none of them the dog she saw earlier. so she continues. yanking on the leash to urge abby forward.

with the harsh yank on the leash, abby is pulled from her daydreaming to look at alice, "what's gotten into you? you don't usually pull like this, alice. take it easy."

abby rushes to keep up with her german shepard but bumps into the pup once she notices alice stopping to stare at another dog as, you, its owner, read on a bench that overlooks a small pond in the park's center.

abby doesn't pay much attention to you and your dog, instead taking a seat on the ground near the pond to look at the water ripple. but alice had other plans.

at first alice sits next to abby and watches the water, but after a few minutes she stands and uses her mouth to yank abby's cap off.

"alice!" abby shouts as she attempts to grab the cap from her pup.

but alice rushes out of abby's reach, shaking her head and flinging the cap from side to side. she runs over to the bench and drops the cap next to you on the bench before barking out at abby as if to taunt abby.

abby blushes as she realizes you saw alice steal the cap. a rush of embarrassment floods her. this gorgeous, gorgeous woman just saw her get bested by a dog.

abby looks away to stand up and brush dirt from her pants. once she looks back to the bench to speak to you, you and your dog are gone.

not thinking about too much she grabs her cap and then alice's leash and as soon as the leash is in her hands, alice is dragging her in the direction you walked off in.

"alice!"

soon alice has walked around the woman's legs and abby, the strangers dog doing the same. causing the two to be pushed together and wrapped up in the leashed of their pets.

"Oh my-!" you are caught off guard as you feel strong hands place themselves on your arms so you don't topple over.

abby's firm hands hold onto you in an attempt to steady the both of you. but it doesn't work well and you both fall over into the small pond.

the cold water immediately soaking into your clothes and drenching you completely.

alice quickly bites down on abby's jacket and tugs to help her up. abby is a bit shaken but she rushes to her feet and helps you up. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to.." but her words are cut off when she sees your face.

your mascara is running and your lipstick is smudged but she still thinks you're absolutely gorgeous. pretty eyes, full pouty lips, well kept hair. just outside perfect.

abby is too busy gawking at your beauty to hear you apologizing until you slip. she instinctively reaches out to wrap her arm around your waist and hold you up.

your face flushes as your hands grip onto her large and sturdy form. "Thank you.."

"abby!" she blurts out.

you make a face of confusion, "what?"

she mentally slaps herself for being so stupid. I'm fumbling this so hard, she thinks.

"that'd my name. my name's abby." as she speaks she helps you out of the pond and to the bench she first saw you sitting, both of your dogs following to sit at their respective owner's feet.

soon the two of you are laughing off the fall and about your now soaking wet clothes. abby attempts to wring the water out of her shirt.

"thanks for helping me out by the way." you mutter as you pick grass out of your hair.

"thanks for not being mad about it. most people would have been pissed." she chuckles a bit, then scoots closer to you to help pick out the grass.

suddenly abby feels a wave of confidence wash over her. she sits up straight and rubs her hands on her knees to wipe the sweat off of them.

"maybe I can make it up to you. here, I'll give you my number." she reaches for her pocket but realizes she dropped it on the ground before they fell into the pond.

she stands and retrieves it, then opens her contacts to add a new one. once you both finish getting the others' contact information, you part ways. both of you go home to clean up and get into some dry clothes.

maybe something good will come from falling into a pond with a stranger.

a/n: gonna be honest here. I was so sleepy when I wrote this. but I hope it wasn't too bad! feedback is always welcome!

#the last of us #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby and ellie #abby angst #abby tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #mine

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