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atopvisenyashill · 5 months

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not to keep harping on but definitely the complaint i see that really sticks in my craw is that the only reason or the main reason robb planned to banish catelyn to seaguard was because of their argument over jon. it’s certainly a factor but they have spent the entire war arguing over every decision robb makes! ned tells robb “keep your mother in your council” but robb really does not! he has her there, yes, he lets her speak, yes, but oftentimes he will disregard her advice without any appeasement, misstep badly, and be worse off politically in the exact way she warned him of. she’s not the only person he blows off - he’s not exactly nice to edmure either, for example - but cat is right when she suspects there’s an element of “kings are not supposed to have mothers” and “wedded to his war" and she clocks this long before the argument over jon! robb tries to get rid of her at the beginning of a clash of kings when all cat has done is urge him to continue peaceful negotiations with the lannisters!

robb is angry because he’s in over his head and he knows it, and it's got very little to do with jon! robb is losing this war and his best friend was the son of a man who crowned himself and lost the war!! robb knows exactly what’s going to happen to the north if he loses and despite everything, he cannot seem to win despite being a near prodigy in battle tactics. and here his mother has been this whole time, fighting him on every front - just like the lords but he cant punish them for disagreeing can he? - and being so frustratingly right about more things than his lords, and now they’re picking at this wound in their family that has never been allowed to heal and a lot of resentment that both robb and catelyn are feeling at their general situation gets focused in on each other. this is such a tully thing too (pls remember these are canonically unpleasant people!) because look at lysa projecting years of resentment onto sansa, look at the entire cat, hoster, edmure situation, or even hoster & blackfish’s relationship. family is so important to them but in times of stress, “doing everything for family” becomes an anchor pulling them down, until the only thing left is to lash out at each other.

most of the lords are happy to let this nonsense play out! catelyn does not even have the privilege maege & dacey mormont do at being head of their own house - she’s just a wife, just a mother, just a first born daughter. when she disagrees, they don’t see an equal arguing with them, they see a woman sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. they do not give a single solitary shit about like, ~the plight of bastards~ they just believe, like robb, that sansa is currently “tainted” by her marriage to a lannister and can’t be allowed to inherit, that arya is dead, that the boys are dead, that jeyne is not yet pregnant, and a bastard boy castle raised who looks like ned is better than no boy at all (see edric storm, addam of hull, and larence snow). these men have not spent the last fourteen years cooking in their resentment over this situation the way catelyn and robb have!

jon is a reason. but so is rickard karstark, jaime lannister, willem lannister, tion frey, renly baratheon, walder frey, and theon greyjoy. ned is a reason as well, and bran, sansa, rickon, arya, hoster, edmure, perhaps even lysa and sweetrobin. jon is the final straw but robb isn’t (only) sending catelyn away because of some righteous fury on his brother’s behalf! he’s sending her away because she is an easy, socially acceptable target for all his frustrations and failures and fears that he can project on, and punish, in a way he cannot punish his enemies, his lords, or himself.

and catelyn is as always very aware of the deeper motivations in her son’s mind, and resentful that she doesn’t have the power to push back; she’s just a mother, after all.

#getting on my soap box #robb stark #catelyn stark #valyrianscrolls #catelyn stark defense squad #cat/robb and ned/sansa/arya are the most interesting & realistic depictions of mother/son and father/daughter relationships send tweet #like the jon snow of it all is always relevant. but she is also right that she’s being punished for being a woman who won’t shut up. just b #some of her advice (SOME! NOT MOST!) is sketch or not good doesn’t mean they’re not punishing her. it’s not like edmure gives good advice!#but guess which tully is sent away!!!!!! edmure gets to have flaws. he gets to be wrong. catelyn does not.#motherhood #mothers and sons #gender politics in asoiaf

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cthulhusstepmom · 11 months

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Evidence that Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is not what he seems-Lt. SR:

Soap smells like rain, it took a while to put it together because it's not Soap himself that emits the odor, it just follows him. It's less potent inside and when it's sunny outdoors but if you concentrate it's always there.

He has never been observed touching a gun or grenades without gloves. Almost every other explosive he handles with no regard for his own safety gloves.

HE EATS WEIRD SHIT. While he doesn't eat much of the food on offer from the cafe, he does eat consistently when outdoors, usually plants or flowers. Things he has eaten: dandelions(edible), garlic(edible), thistle(edible but he ate it with the thorns), foxglove(toxic, showed no adverse reaction), Several unidentified flowers and berries, grass(technically edible?) Etc.

Will sometimes refuse to enter a place before abruptly going in. The data is not consistent between different buildings or locations. Further research is required.

Sharp teeth.

Groups things in nonsensical ways. He will only fill a magazine with bullets that total a multiple of 7 or 3. The same for what weights he uses in the gym. When drawing or eating he sorts by 4s. He traded his room to get #13 (right next door, coincidence?).

Cameras will not focus on him, whether photo or video he is never in focus regardless of distance or conditions.

He has never once been in medical for more than half an hour, usually much less. Even though his hands have light burns on them almost constantly.

Dogs hate him. He seems ambivalent towards them and he's never been bit that Ive seen. Cats adore him as do birds.

John MacTavish does not blush. Not for lack of trying even when genuinely flustered or hot, his skin does not flush.

Ghost sets down the small notebook with a minute sound of frustration. The evidence is all there but looking at it, what does it really say? Other than that he's an obsessive creep. A series of quirks and coincidences compiled by a paranoid son of a bitch into a fucking stalker journal. But still, Simon can't help but feel like he's right and he'd be dead a million times over if he simply disregarded his intuition. Even if it is something batshit insane.

At this point however it seems that it'll drive him mad far before it yields any answers. After scouring what little resources were comprehensible on the internet he'd started growing out his hair, intent on tying it in knots to prevent charms. Leaving him with a problem he'd not encountered since he'd first donned the mask: unruly curls and balaclavas don't mix well at all. He'd also kept a piece of stale bread in his pocket for days as he'd read it was a repellent to- and he can't even believe he's considering it-fairies. It backfired, if anything Johnny had been more attached to him and even more touchy than usual. He'd left a small deli cup full of coffee creamer outside his door overnight and found it neatly placed upside down where he'd left it with not a drop left. Ghost chalked that up to some wise guy playing a joke or an exceptionally dextrous cat and firmly shut the door on any other possibilities in his mind. His next test had been a gift of clothing mixed with complements, he'd read that both were likely to drive away any Other. It hadn't been a very extravagant gift, a new pair of gloves and a gruff "well done Johnny" but at the time it had seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as Soap had gone white as a sheet(he can do that but he can't blush???) and scurried off. A quiet dread had filled his stomach the whole day until Soap turned up at dinner, a little quieter than usual but wearing his new gloves and eating more than usual(a scoop and a half of mashed potatoes with 4 packets of butter and 2 packets of sour cream as well as a cookie. The main course of spaghetti and meatballs went untouched though Gaz snapped it up before it could truly go to waste). Though when Ghost returned to his room late that night after trudging through hours of paperwork he found a pile of tiny, aromatic, pink flowers on the floor in front of his door and on top of them a shiny metal comb. Simon's tired brain hardly stopped to think of any of the dire warnings he'd found on forum posts and folklore sites alike, crouching and tenderly retrieving the piece from its bed of flora, careful not to crush any of the tiny blooms. Well... With all the knots in his hair-purposeful and otherwise-he's going to need a sturdy comb anyway.

#fae!soap #superstitious bastard!Ghost #little does Ghost know that Scottish fairies actually favor bread instead of being repelled by it #meanwhile the whole clothing trick would have totally worked if it weren't for the fact that Soap took as a courting gesture #also the idea of Ghost leaving out two ounces of hazelnut coffee creamer and Soap just feeling his heart beating out of his chest #but he doesnt want to be presumptuous so he waits until hes got absolute confirmation that Ghost wishes to court him #and he gives him gloves...so he can touch him and not be burned by the iron #Soap is simultaneously three steps ahead and six steps behind #cod mw2 #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #fae!au #and to think i wanted to upload this to ao3 😑

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kat-rose-griffith · 3 months

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Don’t mind me I’m just imagining a scene where Colin’s help pays off and Penelope finally gets to dance with a suitor and the song that’s playing is the orchestra version of Mamma Mia. At first Colin is really proud and happy for her because he can see how happy she is, but then as the song goes on he slowly starts getting more and more jealous to the point where he can’t stand it anymore and he needs to step in to dance with her himself. That’s when he realizes his lessons have worked too well because she has so many men lining up to fill her dance card that there isn’t any room for him for the rest of the night and he’s just standing there with the realization that something big has shifted in how he feels about his friend Pen

#bridgerton #oh and also lady Danbury is to the side watching all of this like it’s her favorite soap opera #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #polin #I don’t write fanfic so if someone does and they want to write this please go for it

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lemonwrap · 5 months

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Imagine: Ghost’s mask is permanently attached to his face.

It’s probably with pins in the bones, or something like that to make it extremely difficult or even impossible to remove. It hurts to eat and talk, so Ghost doesn’t speak much, and it keeps his identity hidden at first. It was Roba’s doing, of course.

It had been the 141’s job to take down Roba, which is why they were in Mexico in the first place and came across Ghost as he was escaping after killing Roba. They take him in, and Ghost becomes familiar with Price, Soap, and Gaz, the members of Task Force 141. Despite his trauma and initial reluctance, Ghost grows very close to Soap, begins to see Price as an almost father-like figure, and becomes good friends with Gaz.

They make it their mission to remove the mask.

#Does the timeline here make sense? Not quite but I can do what I want #They would all be on the younger side in this AU #Inspired by a fic I read years ago about the Winter Soldier #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #maybe? could also be platonic/not an established relationship as well #lemonwrap writes

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imagine-shenanigans · 6 months

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I've got severe brain worms from @391780 's fic Into Your Veins, and now I'm thinking of all the different scenarios where the 141 are also monsters in the apocalypse. like. obsessively. Also fat/chubby reader because mmmmmm yaes <3

Also this is basically just rambles and ranting over ideas for like, however long this got i didnt actually check teehee

We already have vampire simon so I won't touch on that because that is Specifically Their Brain Worms but I can't stop laughing every single time over the sunflower seeds incident (and every other similar one).

Soap as a werewolf is soooooo funny to me. Like he's constantly in this battle of "Don't swallow don't swallow don't swallow" whenever he rips a zombie in half with his teeth in wolf form and then confusion as to why people would think he's possibly infected. "Wdym I'm infected I'm just a little guy. I'm so cute. I wouldn't ever do anything. Smiles." He can't cover distance like Ghost or Gaz can, and sure he doesn't have the same authority that Price does, but he's a damn good soldier, and he's got some of the most sheer brute force on the team. So when Price tells him to start scouting in an area for survivors, he does! He's very thorough, combs over the area with a precision that would make most soldiers weep with jealousy.

He ends up scenting reader before he sees them, watches their little house from a distance. He's not patient like Simon, but he does watch reader for awhile, watches them surviving, all on their own in this little plot of land. Ends up watching your plush hips sway as you set out the laundry to dry. He's mesmerized, as he watches the sweat drip down your skin while you reinforce a few of your traps, go over the house with a fine toothed comb. You can't see him in the shadows, but by god is he seeing you. (And your ass - god he can't stop staring.)

He's not nearly patient enough to wait, so he waltzes right up, thinking his charming smile and accent is enough to win him some brownie points. He's halfway through a pickup line, maybe, when you level a shotgun at his face, completely unamused.

He's in love.

You refuse to go with him, but Price gave him orders and there's no WAY he's letting you go, not after he's seen your thighs and imagined himself using them as earmuffs. Not after he's thinking of a cute domestic life, providing for you like a good mate, and look at how precious you are, threatening him and -

and you shoot him.

Right in the chest, and thank god for the fact that it takes more than a few bullets to kill him because he's tearing through his skin in an instant, bones cracking and sinew melding as he quickly drops into his wolf form (which, jesus christ he's fucking HUGE) to help ease some of the pain and kickstart his healing process. He snarls right in your face and snaps your damn gun in half with his teeth before he tells you he'll be back in a week. (later, he feels bad, certainly, but only for frightening you)

You freak out, because JESUS CHRIST WEREWOLVES ARE REAL TOO????

Johnny's back in a week as promised, after spending a few days in bed and eating anything he could get his hands on all while gushing about the pretty little soft thing he's bringing back. He even goes out of his way to bring you a gift!!! He hunts down a deer on the way through the woods near your home, bringing dinner so he can butcher it and you can cook it because of course he's bringing you back for practical reasons but if he's going to court you no you don't need to know that.

You're gone when he comes to the home, every last item packed away and shoved into the back of the car he'd seen you drive. He's furious that his hard work will go to waste, so he helps himself to the rest of what you've got in the house and decides to store everything away for when he's on his way back to base. Fights his urge to track you down only for long enough to be practical, and then he's on the hunt.

It doesn't take him long to find you - he can run faster than your car can go cautiously while trying not to attract attention from a horde of zombies, and even though he's living he doesn't attract the same attention from the freaks that you do in a car with a gun. He tracks you down in no time flat, smiling as he taps on your window where you're parked inconspicuously to catch a few minutes of sleep.

When you scream, he laughs and waves, threatens with one clawed hand to slash the tires if you don't come out. Practicality wins in this case, and he has a long talk with you about coming back with him. He's sure he's just about convinced you when you slap him, throwing something at him that has him howling in white-hot pain. He can hear your apologies through sobs as you push him and he tangles with whatever you've thrown at him, trying to get it off in a blind panic, and you've driven off before he can stop you.

When he finally has a moment to breathe, the damn thing off of him, he realizes you'd tied together a small net of necklace chains - silver. necklace chains.

He's as angry as he as endeared, really. It's a game now, of fetch, of tag, he's not sure - he just ends up changing pace, gently herds you back in the direction of the base like a cattle dog. You're furious when he finally pops your tires when you're a good two days away from the base, just hefts you up on a shoulder and pats your ass while he walks with you. He's so smug about it too, and by all accounts, he's won your hand in marriage by finding you, whether or not you agree yet.

Now, I'm not as familiar with Gaz as I'd like to be (because I got introduced with Ghoap stuff for my entry into the fandom) so please pardon if my characterization is off but I do love him dearly and eat up all content I end up seeing of him.

I'm slightly biased with Gaz being a harpy because I just love the idea of him being a bird of prey like a peregrine falcon (and i think its bluegiragi who has the monster au of him as a harpy?) or a shifter of some sort like a panther or a cheetah (i'm biased towards cheetah actually, because I love the pictures/videos of cheetahs getting emotional support golden retrievers).

Since my idea for this isn't EITHER of those options, please consider reader putting spike traps on the roof for a bird Gaz like stores put up on their signs. He gets real angry about it for a couple days and then figures out exactly how/where to land so he can perch on your roof anyway, scaring the shit out of you when he's just sitting there, chin in his hands, with a shit eating grin when you go to make sure everything's alright on the roof.

Anyway, for this I'm actually thinking fae Gaz - he's been living amongst humans for as long as he can really remember. He's not a changeling, but his mum was fae and she loved his dad. He's visited the fae realm once or twice (and, as convincing as his mum is when he visits her, he nearly forgets about the time dissonance every single visit - none are as bad as the first time, when he had no clue about it, and ended up being gone for fifty years.)

He's sent to greet you when Ghost majestically fails, and Cap'n doesn't quite want to set Soap loose on the poor reader (yet). Ends up falling in love with how clever you are, soft hands slipping into gloves as you pile leaves over the thin nets over the punji pits and bear traps. He's military trained across multiple decades, he's seen all kinds of war (even though he's still relatively young in comparison - he stopped physically aging somewhere in his twenties, but he's barely been alive for like, fifty years) and he's seen all kinds of tricks.

He watches you pour over old books that you've either scavenged or already had, learning how to make simple, but effective traps. The older types of traps are such a clever idea when combined with new ones. The type doesn't matter much to zombies, but the combination of different types will keep humans (and others) on their guard.

He really really really intends to talk to you, instead of lingering in the shadows like a creep.

You end up seeing him, and through sheer luck (or wit, Gaz isn't honestly sure) when he asks that you give him your name, you say; "Give me your name first."

He's stuck at that one, because Gaz has spent years talking around subjects but this pretty little human just points a shotgun at him and demands his attention. He can't even think to talk around the reason he's there when he changes the subject awkwardly, and you insist on his name.

He can't give you his name, his power, not even his nickname, so it ends with him awkwardly leaving.

He's the absolute butt of the joke when he gets back to base after slipping into the trees (so embarrassed that he doesn't take the time to make sure you can't see him do it) and goes straight back to base utilizing a mushroom circle and the sheer willpower to not get distracted as he slips between realms. Makes a week long trek into an hour's worth of walking.

When he returns, he knocks politely, eyeing the newly replaced doorknob.

When he touches it, out of curiosity, he's gobsmacked to find out you've either found a new knob, or cast the old one in cold iron. He touches it three full times in complete disbelief, watches the skin on his hands grow irritated and blister.

You smirk when you open the door, make some shitty joke that he's pretty sure is a twilight reference that would make Ghost furious, and then you tell him you figured it out pretty quickly.

In comparison to Ghost and Soap, his romance is altogether extremely easy - he just keeps visiting every single day, calls you a nickname when you won't give him an actual answer.

He admires your caution, and falls just a little more in love when you call him something stupid like mushroom man.

In the end, what ends up convincing reader, I think, is that he fully gives them his name. It's akin to a proposal, and Gaz isn't quite sure how he feels when you don't realize it as you roll his name - Kyle Garrick on your tongue, testing it. You ask if you can keep calling him Mushie Man and some other stupid nickname and he laughs, presses a kiss to your temple for it. Says it's only fitting, and whispers your full name like a prayer.

He lets you stay in your home a little longer, as long as you need really, laces a misdirection hex into the branches that'll really only work on humans. He comes by every day, no matter what.

When you finally agree, he grabs your face and kisses you like you've given him the sun and stars and hung the moon just to illuminate his way.

For Price, I'm going to say dragon price because mmmm hot. Anyway I like to think it's a little bit of everything.

Ghost is the first - you find out really quickly that he fucking hates the counting trick you pull, so you're sure to carry a pocket full of something small just to piss him off if he gets too close. When you don't make eye contact (whether intentional or because you hate it) he's absolutely bewildered that this Soft Little Thing in the woods has so effectively blocked him from getting his job done initially that when he complains to Price, he puts his foot down. Says if Price thinks is so funny, he should send Johnny or Gaz out, see if they can do better.

And Price, sides hurting from laughing so much, agrees to make it Soap's problem next.

Soap returns, a net-like burn across his forearm from where you'd thrown tied together necklace chains at him. He's pissed, whines and moans for hours about how bad it hurts, and Price just snorts and tells him Shouldn't have tried to drag them out, then.

When intimidation and brute force don't work, Price lets Gaz have a go at it.

The man is practically radiating smugness as he goes to win, and Price is crying with laughter when Gaz comes back, his hands blistered and pride bruised. He clears his throat and says I think ah, I think they've just gone ahead and put every guard on the house they can think of. He does not tell anyone that the human ended up catching him in a net for half an hour afterwards, chiding him for the full thirty minutes about trying to open someone's door without asking.

(But Price knows.)

He ends up saying he's going to go deal with it himself to "Show them how it's done."

Really though, he's absolutely smitten with the idea of you. He knows that, given the time and will, his boys would absolutely bring you back - but he doesn't want that anymore. He has to see for himself the cute soft little human in the woods that's managed to catch all three of his best soldiers off guard because all three of them underestimated you.

He can't very well let anyone on base know (especially the civilians) what he is, so he waits until the dead of night to start flying - only does so when he's well past the point of being seen, even if it means he has to fly in his hybrid form, which is a little awkward when he doesn't do it as often.

He's a perfect gentleman when he walks up to your home at daybreak, letting his form go back to human.

He avoids every trap, tripwire, and camera that Simon and Johnny and Kyle had all warned him about so you don't have to spend your precious time and energy fixing them. He knocks on the door and waits until you open it, introduces himself as Captain John Price, love.

Apologies for the heavy handed attempts of his men as he stands on your doorstep. When you slam the door in his face he simply sighs and knocks again. And again, and again, until you finally relent and open the door back up.

He smiles, and asks if he can come in - you say no, and he smiles.

Love, if I wanted to I could push past you, I'm asking to be polite.

You freeze at that, trying to think, trying to evaluate. You're clever, he thinks with a pleased hum, half lidded eyes staring down at you. You sigh, and relent, finally - knowing that whatever battle that you'd be fighting uphill could at least be done over the breakfast you were starting to cook, and you didn't want to waste it.

Something twinges in John's chest as he sits at the table, and decides, like the rotten, greedy bastard he knows he is, that you're his. And not his like the rest of the people he's got, but his. You'll be his, no matter how long it takes him.

He lets you cook in silence, enjoying the mundane domesticity of it all, tucks into the plate of food gratefully, and feels like he's home.

After breakfast, John takes the time to ask you questions. About your past, about your hobbies outside of survival, how many things you've got that'll be coming with. When you remind him you haven't agreed, he chuckles and smooths a hand over your hair and reminds you that he hasn't asked.

You finally ask him what he is, and he blows a mote of smoke at you, watches the realization hit you before you go blank. A fucking dragon? You ask.

A fucking dragon, he responds.

John is extremely amused when you tell him to wait on the doorstep, and you go upstairs for something. When you come back down, you hand him a box full of jewelry (he almost laughs when he notices the amount of silver chains missing.)

He hands you the box back and curls a finger beneath your chin, calls you a silly girl/boy/pet and tells you that not all the stories are true. In this case, they are, of course- but he doesn't need to tell you that he hoards people, not things. That his hoard is every single person on base - doesn't tell you that his most treasured parts of his hoard are the three strong men who work directly with him, that he intends to keep them for as long as he lives, which will still be a damn long time coming, even if he's been around since before the middle ages.

You'll be his favorite of all though, he thinks.

He gives you a week, but tells you that his boys will keep an eye on you, make sure you're still there every day until he personally comes to escort you home. When you remind him, stubbornly, you are home, he laughs, and presses a kiss to your forehead while you stand there, bewildered.

In between that moment, and when you get back to base with him, I can't decide if its better if he ends up singlehandedly destroying a small horde of zombies with fire breath as the pits you've got full of traps fill up, or if it's better if he shows up with a box truck and a few men and they all end up moving you out of the house without asking. Maybe it's a mix of both - you decide!

But regardless, it ends exactly as he wants - you, tucked up into his lap as he reads reports and issues orders. He skips the dating and goes straight into being your husband - makes some sort of quip about being far too old (fashioned) to entertain the thought and goes straight to being married like "it used to be." Even though for a dragon he's still kinda young, hasn't even hit his comparative forties yet, actually. Even though it doesn't really matter, because as far as he's aware dragons don't die of old age so much as they die of other factors beyond their control. It's why he's so carefully cultivated his life towards survival thus far.

John lets you do whatever you want to keep you busy, the only real stipulation is that you come home to him at the end of the day. He's even quite respectful, really. He never touches you without your consent, aside from placing soft kisses on your temple or forehead, or cuddling up to you in your shared bed. (Which you say you only entertain because he's warm, and there's no heating in his room. But really, you love it when he holds you, and lets you hold him with no questions asked, all under the pretense of being half-asleep.)

He acts like he has all the time in the world for you to come around - and he does.

You'll be awfully sore later when you realize he's bound your life to his, even angrier when your teeth adjust and you can start seeing better. He'll pretend not to notice the changes at first to see what you think, and then he'll help you through all of them, cooing and sighing and rubbing into sore muscles as you learn how to control changing into your half-dragon form. Maybe in a couple hundred years you'll figure out how to fully transform into a dragon - maybe not.

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yeyinde · 1 month

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Spring is here. Has me feeling some type of way I need to baby trap a military man rn

I’m so fertile and so so empty, be a shame if a military man married me just for the perks, only to find out we’re locked in with a baby on the way.

How terrible would that be (I am unwell)

N e ways, thanks for hearing my thoughts, hope you have a lovely day! <3

i love that idea so much, but the moment you mentioned spring, my mind immediately blanked out because, hear me out:

dark!reader babytrapping, but—

you're a druid/god of spring. you find a human wandering around your forest/domain—this poor, lost little lamb. so, you lure them in. taking them deeper and deeper into the sprawling plains of your flower bed, letting them fall for your human disguise until they're sitting pretty in your palm. you fuck them, giving them an experience they'd never forget (read: fucks the mundanity right out of them) before leaving them dazed and confused on the edge of the village, sex-drunk and obsessed with the taste of you. they try to find you to no avail. they chalk it up to a strange dream only for you to show up at the end of the spring equinox like, hi. hello. you've knocked me up and traditionally i'm meant to eat you for sustenance for our little gremlin but i think i'll keep you as an offering and a pet instead. okay? okay.

and it'll be especially delicious if they knew what you were the whole time and were actively trying to lure you out. like, sure. they belong to you, but you have the absolute misfortune of belonging to this dangerously obsessed human who risked his own skin just for a taste of you as well. and the jury is still out on which one is worse.

#more eldritch horror!reader pls #more dark!reader too lmao i love a manipulative bsh #and even if we ignore the last bit they're all beguiled and helpless #Soap is absolutely the LEAST bothered #does not care at all #he's also so down to just give u what ever u want and goes overboard w it too

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auspicioustidings · 7 months

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Firewatch Part 6

Summary: Things heat up with your and Kyle, and you try to enact your plan.

Words: 2k

CW: Smut, dubcon (explanation in the tags if you want more info and don't mind slight spoilers)

Kyle Garrick was a complete mystery to you. The way he moved around you as if you had known one another forever, small touches gliding across you whenever he was close. The way he pouted cutely when even after putting food out for her, Dosia had no time at all for him. The way he asked a thousand questions and you watched as after every answer he took a moment to file the information away in his head. Your favourite colour, when you had got Dosia, what foods you liked, dream vacation spot, pet peeves and comfort shows. He received every answer with grace even when they surprised him.

“I didn’t think you’d be into horror” he said with a bright grin, deft hands peeling oranges for the dessert he was making now that lunch was happily bubbling away.

You didn’t mind cooking even if you didn’t have any great love for it, but you were more than content to just sit on one of the stools at the kitchen island and watch him work. The lazy rays of sunlight kept catching him and you didn’t even find you were reluctant to admit to yourself that he was beautiful. Of course he was still happily in those wholesome flannel bottoms and no shirt. Of course.

“I think after the past 48 hours I might have lost my love of it” you answered, as if to remind yourself out loud that this beautiful man cooking your favourite meal for lunch was not someone to fall for.

It was fascinating to watch him frown and look at you with those eyes all full of apologies and longing. Fascinating and heart wrenching because it really made you feel guilty using him the way you intended. He abandoned the oranges and moved to where you were perched on the stool.

“We saved you luv, you’re safe.”

As if it was the fire that you had found horrifying. Although thinking about it now did make your heartbeat pick up when you remembered that awful choking smoke smothering and blinding you. You didn’t remember much from when you had been fading, too terrified to move towards the doorway when you could see the blaze through it. But you remembered the figure that had barreled through and roughly held your face for a moment in some sort of relief you were alive. You remembered being lifted and the quick flash of heat as you were carried through. You remembered the sky had never looked so beautiful even as grey as it was.

Kyle saw it again, saw you experiencing it in your head. Last time it had happened he had kissed you and had felt his self-control steam out of his ears immediately. You had been in those cute little dungarees then, but now you were dressed in Price’s sweatpants and tshirt and it did something for him. It felt forbidden to touch you when his Captain had so clearly marked you his, and that made the idea all the more attractive. But he fought it, he fought it as much as he could, instead taking your hand in his and smoothing his thumb in soothing circles.

“You are right here, you’re safe. You can breathe,” he said gently.

Stupid handsome boy and his stupid comfort and your stupid feelings.

“Thank you.”

There was a moment where you just stared at one another and you thought he might kiss you, but he didn’t. He kept himself still but for the thumb rubbing your knuckles. Except for this half baked plan to work you needed him to kiss you. You needed there to be evidence on your body of him for the others to see, especially Johnny. After all the past two times you had been cosy with Kyle it had been him that caught you, him that was mad about it.

“Kyle…” you whispered, finding that the tremor and neediness in your voice came easier than it should.

He had self-control, but not that much. Not enough to turn down the open invitation you were giving him even if he did suspect that you had some ulterior motive. He wasn’t stupid and you were far from the tame little thing he had imagined you so he didn’t buy the damsel act, but he also wasn’t a good enough man to let you know that when it ran the risk you would give up on whatever plan involved getting him on you.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip and you leaned forward slightly to wrap your lips around the digit. You watched his eyes, how they were fixated on watching as your mouth welcomed his thumb and then welcomed two of his fingers when he switched to pressing them against your lips. You swirled your tongue around them, watching his eyes darken.

Honestly you had thought he would just kiss you as a response, not whatever this was. The pads of his fingers massaging orange oil into your tongue was causing a violent flurry of butterflies in your stomach, like you were on a roller coaster during the drop. You hadn't really meant to suckle on them the way you were doing, but it felt instinctual, it felt like you needed to see the bobbing of his Adams apple as he had to swallow thickly at the feeling of your tongue on his fingers.

You just stared at him as he withdrew his fingers and looked at you, both of you flushed. His fingers were glistening with your saliva and he made no move to wipe them off.

"Tell me I can use them."

You thought your heart might have thudded hard enough to smash into your ribcage as you nodded shakily.

"Words luv."

He was being serious you realised. He really wanted to make sure you were enthusiastic in your consent. The man who had, with his team, kidnapped you and faked your death, wanted you to be enthusiastic in your consent. Fuck it was hard not to like him.

"You can use them," you said, voice cracking. He stared at you and waited, obvious that he wanted more than that. "You can use your fingers on me, I… Kyle please, want you to."

And you did. You did want him to. Before you could process that little fact and feel the mortification from having said it out loud, his fingers still wet from your saliva had slipped into the waistband of the sweats you were wearing and dragged straight from your entrance to your clit. He got even closer to you which let you drop your head against his chest and just pant, focusing on trying not to get overwhelmed.

It was difficult, it was so difficult. Kyle was spectacular with his fingers, playing with you softly enough that you were biting back little whines and begs for him to do more. If the fact that this was actually doing fuck all to leave a physical mark on you came to your head, you fully ignored it. If the fact that one of the hands you had clinging to his bare chest moved down to feel him through the fabric of his pants then you ignored that too. God you wanted to see if you could take him, he felt big.

“M’going to, come on luv, tell me I can” he said into your hair as his fingers teased at your entrance, looking for permission to sink them into your heat.

When you just mumbled incoherently he pressed his thumb to your clit and drew delicious circles with it, getting you insanely close to the edge and then slowing again and again.

“Words, need words.”

“I-I- fuck please. Ok please? Just fucking finger me already!”

You were near shouting at him and horribly embarrassed at the words that had snapped out of your mouth. How long had it been since someone else touched you like this? The hand you had on him slipped under his pants to really feel him, start pumping at that hot velvety cock that you knew would fit perfectly inside you. It would be a stretch, especially after so long, but fuck you wanted it so badly as his fingers finally speared into you, making you cry out pathetically against his chest. You were enjoying this immensely, but you tried to cling onto the last shreds of your plan. Kyle needed to like you, you needed to turn him against the others. And honestly if he did run away with you, would it be so bad to give in and stay with him?

Kyle may not have had the self-control to leave you be, but he was patient and could take it torturously slow. He was glad your face was buried as it was, not able to see the feral little grin he had at how out of control you got. You probably didn’t even realise that you were going fast and hard at his cock, getting him close enough that he knew he’d wind up cumming first if he didn’t stop you. It was fucking beautiful how you were wriggling in the stool, fucking yourself down onto his fingers and making circles with your hips to get more friction from his thumb on your clit. When he crooked his fingers inside you the strangled noise you made was music to his ears. He wasn’t intending of cumming first, was fully about to make you slow down, but then you gave yourself away.

“K-Kyle! Please, I- I don’t want the others to touch me, just you. I’m yours.”

So that was your game. Honestly he felt a little bad for you with how poorly put together this little scheme was. You were barely able to even commit to the words, clearly not really caring fully about what you were saying but forcing yourself to say it nonetheless. He slid his eyes to the window, locking them with Soap and Price outside with mischief clearly on his mind. He had noticed them arrive when you had been tumbling into flashbacks, had given them a small shake of the head to indicate they should hold off coming in and let him handle it. They wound up getting quite a show with how loud you were. Price only rolled his eyes at how dumb he found your attempt to sow discord between them and lit a cigar, turning away. Soap grinned, clearly delighted with the ammunition they now had, fully intending to watch the end of this little show.

“Say it again luv, who do you belong to?”

Hearing you sob out his name while wearing Price’s clothes, while he had his eyes locked with Soap outside, that had him groaning and cumming messily into your hand. And then without much ceremony he pulled his fingers out of you and took his hand back, stepping away from you.

You were wildly confused at first, left panting on the stool with one of your hand sticky from his cum and your whole body a live wire, desperate to finish. The confusion turned to white hot anger when he smirked at you, clearly not intending on finishing what he started. You went to screech at him when you heard the door open, whipping your head around to watch Johnny swagger in. You caught a glimpse of cigar smoke, oh God Price was out there.

Without even acknowledging you Kyle held out his fingers and Johnny walked over to suck your arousal off of them with a delighted little groan. You could not fucking breathe watching it. And when Johnny turned to you and delicately put a hand to your throat, growled into your ear, you thought your heart might have stopped.

“Stupid wee bonnie thing, your naw going tae cum until ye get permission from every single one of us.”

Just like that the heat of him was gone with a little warning squeeze to your throat and him and Kyle were discussing what was for lunch. They laughed jovially about the state of Kyle, Price finally coming in and telling him to go clean up while him and Johnny sorted the rest of the cooking. They were so comfortable around one another. Oh, oh this plan was never going to work was it?

You sat, wet and miserable and angry, trying to figure out what the fuck you were going to do.

#mhairiwrites #fanfic #cod au #tf 141 x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #ok so that CW #reader does consent to the smut but is not aware there is an audience #also like these people still kidnapped you so there's that #is this perhaps the dumbest reader I have ever written?#we'll blame it on the trauma

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