#I need to write more guilty!John | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterr · 2 years ago

Note

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

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in order to not spam you i’m spit firing all my obx thoughts while i have the chance

-jj calling reader pooch (i love it so bad)

-john b x reader x jj.

- threesome w pope and jj

-rafe fingering bunny!reader

-popular reader who’s in love with pope

- needy sex w john b after he’s been away

thank you and until i’m allowed to send asks again

-sweetheart anon

lemme give my quick thoughts on all of these 😭

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

• jj calling reader ‘pooch’

it’s my fav jj nickname for puppy, i love writing about it <3 pooch just sounds more like a princess pup who gets spoiled, and he probably calls puppy!reader pooch when she’s being pampered or acting a little spoilt. i just think it’s sweet n comedic like jj <3

• john b x reader x jj

i miss writing it so much !! i feel like that au used to be like, the main thing on my blog for a while !! we need to start talking about it again bc it was such a favourite !! the dynamic between the three is just so great — i think the last we spoke of it was the roadtrip au!

• threesome with pope and jj

the difference in personalities is alot to play with here. my first thoughts on this dynamic is always pope with his actual girlfriend who is always getting teased by jj, to the point where it definitely borders on flirting. pope feels like he should feel threatened and perhaps at first he does — but he’s so physically comfortable with jj that he starts to consider exploring things sexually. jj would definitely be on board with zero convincing needed !! he loves pope and wants to be respectful, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t jacked one out thinking about popes pretty shy gf on her back looking all guilty whilst she takes his dick :(

• rafe fingering bunny!reader

i always see this as a quick fix for bunny when she’s being needy in public. he can’t give her his dick all the time, sometimes he just needs to find a quicker solution. things would get out of hand at the country club when she’s clinging onto his arm telling his friends alarming facts about their sex life because she’s in that mood — until rafe has to press a hand over her mouth and march her to a toilet cubicle where he quickly makes her cream on his fingers whilst scolding her and telling her she better start behaving after she cums :(

• popular reader who’s in love with pope

this trope is always funny because it’s like everyone can see it but pope. she’d be all over him, clinging to his arm, finding him at every party practically throwing herself at him and pope is just trying so hard to be respectful and when asked about it he’s always like “nah, she’s just friendly. she gets like that.” and jj is literally on the verge of exploding like “dude. you’re supposed to be the smart one okay how can you not see that this chick is begging — no, dying for it. she wants you to give her that heyward special bro. please swoop on that. you’re killing me!” and popes like oh. what? no. she’s not— no—

• needy sex with john b after he was away

this is very puppy!reader coded <3 she’d pounce on him as soon as he’s through the door to the chateau and doesn’t care if the other pogues are in tow behind him, jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and humping up and down as she kisses him all drooly and desperate, teeth clashing. he’d literally be like “woah, okay— hi. hi baby.” smiling so hard as he pulls back but she hasn’t got time for introductions!!!!! get that dick out!!!!!!!

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

#sweetheart anon #rafe cameron prompt #jj maybank prompt #john b prompt #pope heyward prompt

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sunfairiess · 5 months ago

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Request for John b: reader finds out she is pregnant and is scared to tell John b because they are still teenagers

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐨 | 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐛 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞

pairing: john b routledge x fem!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration I accidental pregnancy | fluff

synopsis: based on that request.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, teenage pregnancy

wc: 1k

it's my first time writing based on a request, so i really hope i did well! i’m so sorry it took longer than expected, but i just had the worst stomach bug of my life and couldn’t do much <3

song rec: next thing you know - jordan davis ♡

it always starts like this. two lines, one pink stick or three in her case.

pregnant. she was pregnant. she didn’t plan for this to happen, who did anyway? getting pregnant while still being a teenager. when you’re a teenager you can’t even take care of yourself, how can you take care of another human being?

oh, she was so screwed. her parents were going to get a stroke at the news, not to mention her boyf- shit. her boyfriend. how was she going to tell him? was he going to be happy? was he going to leave her? she felt like the floor was swallowing her.

she breathed deeply, trying to clear out her head, but all she could think about were those positive pink sticks. she loved babies and obviously she wanted them in her future, but having one so early in her life felt almost like a mistake. she only had that thought for a second, but hell she felt so guilty.

“babe you done in there? dinner’s ready!” she heard him shout from the kitchen. “coming!” she quickly took the tests and put them in her pocket. looking at her reflection in the mirror before going out, she decided that everything was going to be okay, or at least she hoped, and that she’d tell him in a week. she firstly wanted to take some time to think about it on her own, and to also talk to her parents.

the night she decided to finally break out the news to him, he had just came back from a day with jj and pope. she had cooked dinner, in hopes to relax herself a little bit, but the whole time she was cooking, she was thinking about what to say to him, which made her even more stressed than before.

now, she was pacing back and forth in the living room of the château, while her boyfriend was mimicking and recreating some jokes and obviously stupid things jj made during the day.

“john b.” nothing. he kept going on and on about his fishing trip with the boys. not that she didn’t like listening to him, it just wasn’t the right time to talk about fishing. “john b.” nothing. absolutely nothing. did he became deaf in an afternoon? “john b! i really need to talk to you.” his head snapped back at her, silencing the second he heard her shout.

“okay- yeah, okay, let’s sit down.” she smiled thankfully at his words. he took her hands, as they both sat on the couch, turning their bodies so they could face one another.

they stood silent for a couple of minutes, him not wanting to rush her and her trying not to freak out for the thousandth time. she then took a deep breath and gave him a soft smile, rubbing her thumbs on the back of his hands. “i- uhm, i-, i’m pregnant.”

a strangled whine left his throat as his eyes widened out, like he had just seen a ghost. “you- you’re pregnant.”

she nodded along. “i’m pregnant.”

“and you’re a hundred percent sure? like totally and completely sure.”

“yeah, i took three tests just to be sure.”

“alright, and how are we feeling about this?” his tone was low, and uncertain. he didn’t want to rush anything. he wanted her to know that she was his priority and he was going to do anything to support her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean of course i’m happy, a baby is a blessing, but we’re so young. we have nothing figured out, or nothing at all anyway. i was so scared to tell you because what if you don’t want it? what if you leave me? i can’t bring up a child on my own. and what if you get bored of me? what if i’m not a good mom? or if you-“

“woah, breath, baby. take a deep breath with me, yeah?”

he inhaled and exhaled slowly, making her follow his rhythm. he placed both of his hands on her belly, like he was trying to create some sort of contact with the little one. he knew it was way too early to fully addressing it as a baby, but either way that was his child. it sounded so strange to say that. being a parent while still being so young was certainly not in his plans, but that was going to be his son, or daughter. he would have part of his blood in them, maybe they would have his hair or eyes, even though he hoped they would take after his mother. he would’ve loved a little copy of his girlfriend running and laughing around the house.

“listen to me, baby. i would love nothing more than having a family with you. you are it for me. i wanna marry you, and have a bunch of baby us makin’ a mess ‘round the house. i would never, ever, leave you or our child. he, or she, is my flesh and blood, and baby, you are the person i love the most in the world. if you wanna go on with the pregnancy, you’ll be a wonderful mother, because you’re kind, and gentle and so loving. i know i can’t offer you much, but i promise, i’ll try to be the best father this baby could ever have.” he took a small pause, looking at her in the eyes, this time even more serious than before. “you’re gonna carry them for nine months, so you tell me what we’re gonna do, and i whatever you choose to do, i will support you every step of the way.”

her eyes started to fill up with tears, feeling fortunate to have him by her side. how did she get so lucky, she had no idea. there was no doubt john b was going to be the most wonderful and caring father.

“honestly, i’d like to keep it. i wouldn’t mind having a little john b blabbering about surfing.” they both shared a laugh at her words.

“very well, mama. we’re gonna figure everything out, don’t worry. i got you. both, of you.”

john b wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. it was going to be hard, and frightening, but they were together, and they were going to figure it out. they always did.

#outer banks #obx #obx4 #obx1 #john b obx #john b routledge #john b outer banks #john b x reader #john b x you #john b x y/n #obx3 #obx2 #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge x you

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flo-zoinks · 4 months ago

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Plzplzplz i love ur headcannons sm!! Could u do some if they found a small cat wander into camp ??

Aw ty!!!!! (This is the first normal hc req I've had LMAO 💀)

HOW EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER REACTS TO A CAT IN CAMP (MY OPINION)

Arthur - quite indifferent to it, probably jokes at least someone else'll be bringing in meat they hunt to camp, much to Dutch's distaste. He sketches it a couple times however

John - doesn't like cats too much, but grows a little close to it by them both sitting in silence in chapter 2 whilst John was still recovering

Javier - wants to keep the cat, often strokes kitty but isnt a huge cat fan, although perhaps he plays guitar whilst the cat listens. Calls it gordito

Pearson - rambles on sight that sailors and navy boys believe cats are good luck to anyone who hears as an excuse to bring up being in the navy. Offhandedly will feed it chunks that can't go into the main stew for whatever reason later on- (Arthur hates that)

Uncle - ignores the cat mostly but they are often found in the future lazing around together in camp. The people in camp say it's Uncle's protege

Bill - Worried on how Cain would interact with the kitty but if all goes well and they keep the cat he likes to keep the 2 animals together, insisting Cain could use some other friends

Hosea - Wants to keep the cat as long as its self reliant (eg hunts for itself), saying it'll boost a camp morale to have a pet. Reads the newspaper whilst it sits on the table together.

Dutch - immediately uses it as reason to have another speech praising cats for not following society's clutch and doing as they please with no care. Calls it Ruth (Ruthie by most)

Mary-Beth - falls in love with the cat, likes to write with them curled up on her lap and brushes it with a special hairbrush she (stole) got. Once also (stole) got a cute pendant and put it on the cat as a collar - though had to take it off knowing it would get stolen and put the kitty in danger

Tilly - also wants to keep it, and rants to the cat about Miss Grimshaw whilst the kitty listens. Probably a little protective of it and wants the cat to be a pet for the girls and keeps it away from select guys

Karen - "aw that's cute". Doesn't really care past that but perhaps makes a sarcastic comment to the cat every once in a while talking shit about someone

Grimshaw - at first didnt want an unhygienic animal here, but quickly grew to love it as a mini helper in removing vermin and mouse. Often is seen walking around camp with the kitty and tells camp members to take notes as it's a lot more clean then half the gang

Abigail - strokes the kitty and likes the cat, though is also quite indifferent to it. However shes one of the first to look for it if it goes missing for Jack's sake

Jack - ADORES THE CAT. Cried a little to Abigail saying he felt guilty for liking a cat which is a dogs enemy, therefore Cain's. But now often they play together and when he has naps the cat curls up close next to him

Trelawny - REALLY likes cats, surprisingly. Ensures Micah isn't near to the kitty and uses it as an assistant for his magic tricks. Says every wizard needs his cat. Probably when disappearing will reappear more often to check up on the cat

Strauss - a little avoiding to it at first thinking it's quite dirty, yet as he spends so much time in camp the cat grows to be his little helper whilst he does work, sitting in silence next to him. The only time Strauss ever shared his wealth was buying the cat a little bed next to his desk, partly to avoid it from sitting on his papers again.

Sean - quite superstitious on cats, so if it came around Christmas time hes very happy to see the cat. Believes it's good luck, but watches it closely in case it let's a mouse escape or purrs with it's back to the fire. Teaches all this to Jack, and likes to pat the cat periodically.

Lenny - doesn't care much for the cat, but if everyone else likes it then he supposes it's a good thing to have in camp. Worries to Hosea on having a cat whilst they move often the cat would struggle to adapt, but Hosea says not to worry as the cat is a lot smarter then half of camp, (he names Bill), and they manage.

Molly - also incredibly superstitious about cats, and at first doesn't want them to keep it saying its unhygienic. After time shes seen with the cat on her lap as she complains about her life to it brushing the kitty. However she says it's only to stop it being messy on her things. Insists it's a she and calls her Princess

Sadie - could not care less about the cat, probably ignores it if it comes close without realising

Charles - likes cats, pats the kitty often and gives it spare food he has. However he can't stand how the cat plays with live food, and had to put some animals out of its misery when the cat got bored with them, much to his disdain

Kieran - doesn't say anything but REALLY wants them to keep it. At first he's a little nervous around the cat but instantly warms up to it soon after and tries to spend all his time with the cat. Tries to get the cat and horses to bond

Micah - "Do we NEED another mangy lazy animal we've already got Swanson" really doesn't want a cat in camp, probably kicked it once without realising but didn't care much. Calls them weak animals for being always 'sneaky' rather than fighting everything head on on

Thanks for asking me!!!❤ what do you think?? HAVE A NICE DAY I LOVED THIS ASK XX

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sixfootrod · 2 months ago

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I just saw a TikTok where the wife was on the ground in pain from ovarian cysts and the husband was being a jerk.

I was wonder how would Price help his significant other, who was dealing with that.

This is oddly random, but I’m here for it.

Price is a man that’s seen all kinds of injuries throughout the years — I mean, 18+ years of military service will give you a lot of knowledge. (I needed to research for this).

to the person who sent the other ask (you know who you are), I’m working on it. I’m bad at writing smut. It’s coming, I promise.

He’d noticed you’d been a little off. Complaining a lot more about period cramps, which was nothing new, was it? He’d been with multiple women in the past, he knew all about it. A hot water bottle and some cuddles, and he figured you’d be right as rain.

Well, he thought so.

John had never felt genuine fear like he had when he’d walked into the kitchen — expecting to see you back on your feet, cooking something for yourself or maybe refilling your water bottle. But instead, the sight of you kneeled down on the floor greeted his eyes. And it was one he never wanted to see again.

His feet were moving before his mind had even registered it — heavy footsteps making their way over to you before taking a knee, and placing a hand on your back. “Darlin’, what’s goin’ on? Cramps, or—“

“I don’t know,” you hiccuped, instinctively curling yourself closer into him. John cursed internally, moving a hand towards your stomach and rubbing over it gently. Just to see if it would help. Part of him was panicking internally. Captain John Price; the cold, unfeeling bastard who was usually so composed in any situation, felt helpless here. Yet, he concealed his panic and schooled his expression back into place.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha. c’mon, bug.” He grunted — gently helping you stand from the floor.

And one GP appointment later? An ovarian cyst. Well, shit. Part of him felt guilty. He should’ve seen the signs, should’ve called 111 or something once you started complaining—

But the sight of you now, curled up against his chest, blanket covering you was enough to soothe his worry. He was still silently fuming about how long it’d taken just to get you into the GP.

#call of duty #captain price #john price #cod #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #simon riley #john price x reader #simon ghost riley #lollyrambles

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

Text

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost cod image #ghost cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader #simon riley x reader

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year ago

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Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake.

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity.

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children.

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather.

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

taglist: @novausstuff, @cutiecusp, @ittosbigfatmantitties, @helpimhyperfixating, @hihhasotherfixations, @dugiioh, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @lethalchiralium

#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

Text

Stay For A While | John Marino

summary: you’re all John wants so it’s about time he made a move on you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), drinking, swearing, slight spanking.

word count: 2.43k

authors note: I know I’ve left this with a part two it’s just the request for of felt like it needed to be separated so I promise I’ll get the second part up soon! @babydollmarauders I’m a woman of my word so here is the John smut I said you’d be getting! I don’t know what it was about this one but I actually really did like writing it.

part 2

Mississippi summers were always your favourite.

Endless amounts of sweet tea and bonfires with friends were exactly what you needed to cleanse your soul from the stress that the rest of the year brought you. Usually you just saw these nights as time to have fun, as a girl who wanted nothing serious intent on living out your twenties to the max.

But that all changed when you saw John, he had every girl in town weak in their knees as nobody could say no once he flashed his smile. Yet the real thing you loved the most about him was that he only seemed to have eyes for you.

From ignoring girls to wrapping his hand around your waist to show people that he wasn’t interested in anyone else. All of that was good yet you had gone to week three of knowing him and nothing had happened yet.

Lingering glances meant nothing as they were compared to the intricate thoughts that you had which ultimately ended with him in your bed. Part of you wanted to feel guilty as you thought that you liked him more him than he liked you.

Yet those worries washed away when his eyes lit up seeing you walk into a room “y/n you made it!” he’d cheer opening his arms up to pull you into a hug. Even as people fawned over him he still just remained the calm John that you knew, the John you grew to love.

No red flags appeared as you knew nothing about him besides for the fact that his name was John and he lived in New Jersey. Despite the little you knew about him it seemed to set your heart on fire as it all felt so freeing.

Tonight was just like all the previous nights as you all sat out looking onto the water “I think that’s my cue to go in too.” Clara yawned as she was hot on her boyfriend James’ tail “I’ll come in later.” John called out as he had been staying with them.

That left you two out on the camp chairs with nothing more than a cooler full of beers and the roaring fire. It made you shut your eyes as you rested your head in your chair letting the sounds of crackling wood soothe your mind “you’re so far away from me.” John’s complaint made you open your eyes again as you looked at him.

He sat six seats away from you with his fingers tapping on the rim of his beer battle “you could come over to me.” You proposed with your teeth catching your lower lip as you smiled.

It turned into a staring match until John sighed “I need to learn how to say no to you.” He murmured pushing his hands through his curls as he got up not letting his eyes leave yours as he made his way over to you.

You turned your body to face his as you stared at him “but where would the fun be in that?” You teased sending him a giggle as your fingers rubbed your arms attempting to get you warmer “c’mere.” John croaked out pushing the blanket that was resting over his legs as you two had gotten cold as the wind picked up.

Even though you wanted to play hard to get, the idea of missing out of the knitted blanket and the excuse to take in his cologne was too good for you to say no to “you sure?” Your voice was soft as you got up not wanting to seem desperate as you feared scaring him off.

John shook his head “wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” He was serious as he sent you a look ushering you closer to him.

His shorts were soft against the back of your legs as you smiled “you comfortable?” The hockey player asked wrapping his arm around your back.

You nodded looking down at him “you look pretty tonight.” You blurted out noting how the moonlight lit up his face “just tonight?” The boy quipped back causing your red cheeks to warm further.

Your silence was met with laughter “I’m just fucking with you y/n.” John smiled rubbing his thumb against your waist “you look gorgeous too.” He added using his free hand to grab his beer.

He noted how you watched him lift the glass to his lips “want some?” John offered tilting the glass in your direction. You accepted it a little surprise as you watched him bring it to your lips “trust me?” There was amusement in his voice as he waited for your answer “of course John.” You knew it was crazy as his eyes took in the sight in awe as he watched the beer go down your throat.

The hockey player let the glass go back into the pocket of his seat “what?” John noticed the way that your lips had opened letting your top teeth show through “I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna be gone soon.” You knew he was heading back to New Jersey for work soon so the concerns of losing the opportunity you hoped to have with him were weighing on your mind.

It made him laugh “I’ll keep in contact with you baby.” John cooed brushing his thumb over your cheek “can I kiss you?” You blurted out causing him to nod. He let his hand move the back of your neck as he brought your head down to his.

His lips were soft against yours as your eyes shut. John pulled your legs causing you to straddle his lap making your skirt bunch up by your hips as he ran his tongue over your lower lip “Johnny.” You moaned driving your hips against his.

The boy nodded letting out a groan “fuck baby.” John pushed his head against the backing of his chair as he looked up at you.

You smiled sending him a devious grin as you could see that his cheeks turned flustered when your movements didn’t slow “you’re gonna be the death of me.” He murmured drawing circles on your bare thigh looking at you like you were the only girl in the world in that moment.

Surprisingly your confidence didn’t waiver as you leaned down running your tongue over your teeth “and what are you going to do about it?” You mumbled hovering your lips over his as your noses touched.

John let out a soft gasp as his pants began to tug when his bulge pushed against the fabric “let you do it.” He groaned capturing your lips in a kiss once more.

The two of you stayed like that for a while until John’s hand moved to your ass squeezing the soft cheek between his fingertips “John please.” You begged resting your forehead against his.

Your panties had turned wet with him beneath you “look who is the needy one now.” The hockey player teased as you had now stopped your hips movements against him “now what is it that you want me to do?” His voice egged you on as it hung bait in front of you.

It made your eyes screw shut when his lips nipped at the skin on your neck “anything-” John clicked his tongue at your words “going to need you to be more specific than that now princess.” You had grown flustered as you stared down at him.

He smiled as he awaited your response letting his hands pinch at your hips “your cock or even your fingers fuck I don’t-” your complaint was short lived as John took the opportunity to cut you off as he kissed you.

It felt like a drug you needed becoming your new oxygen “I don’t think I can make it back to yours.” John confessed letting out a low laugh as the feeling of your lace panties against the pads of his fingertips.

Even as the sound of the water and the fire went through your ears, the idea of sleeping with John out there brought a whole new layer to the desire you already felt “I want you, right here.” You mumbled into his ear causing him to groan.

If you were anyone else John would have been ashamed for what came out of his mouth next but as you seemed to be in a similar mindset to him he truly didn’t care “god I need you.” The hockey player grunted as your hands reached beneath you to undo his shorts.

The soft traces your fingers made were agonisingly slow “move faster before I make your speed up, fuck y/n.” John’s eyes screwed shut as you pulled his cock from his boxers “like it when you threaten me.” You teased sending him a dazed smile as you ran your hand up and down his cock pumping it a few times.

Wind whooshed around you both but neither one of you seemed to care as you were both focused on how you pulled your panties to the side with too much alcohol in both your systems to even care about using a condom. Which was probably for the best because John had made the mistake of not bringing any along for the trip “god you’re soaked!” You rubbed the head of his cock against your clit letting it spread your wetness up your slit “all for you.” You gasped teasing yourself as you only let your cunt swallow half of his cock.

But John didn’t like that as it caused him to use his hands that were on your hips to guide you through bottoming him out “fuck!” You cried as you were forced to quickly adjust to his size.

That noise was your face scrunched up was the best ego boost that he could have ever gotten as you tapped his arm “please J,” you whispered beginning to move your hips again.

It felt perfect as though you were made for him as your body began to loosen up “there’s my pretty girl.” John cooed smiling as your eyes opened causing you to look at him.

His cock felt good as it stretched out your cunt letting him hit spots that not even your vibrator knew existed “so big.” You whined bringing your hips against his as you began to speed up “you’re taking me so well.” John let out a grunt as his teeth nipped at your bare collar bone.

Your outfit was standard for the summer, a cropped vest and a skirt “surprised I stayed away from you for so long with you in these.” His tone came in a growl letting his hand slap your ass “you don’t know how much I just wanted to bend you over any table when I see you in these stupid skirts.” Those words made your cunt clench around his cock as you gasped.

John moaned at the feeling “that’s what you wanted me to do wasn’t it?” His question didn’t have long to weigh on your mind as he used his free hand to lock onto the back of your neck “yes John.” You whined as the image of him fucking you on the kitchen counter of your lake house came to your mind.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him and he knew that but with how responsive you were John truly couldn’t let the opportunity go “god this pussy is perfect.” He confession as you leaned down to kiss his neck in an attempt to suppress your moans “like it was made all for me.” As his hand went to lay another slap to your ass you moaned “all yours John, all for you.” You repeated as you placed your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to bring yourself more support.

His tongue ran over his lips when he realised that you were close “I’m gonna-” your cunt fluttered around his cock as you were dangerously close to your high “you’re gonna have to beg to come baby.” John blurted out making your eyes go wide “you’ve been a bad girl wearing these all week.” Somehow when you put on your skirts each morning you truly never thought that you would land up like this.

John showed you that he was serious though as he wrapped his hand around your jaw “please John.” You cried making him click his tongue in disappointment “it’s like you don’t even want to cum.” Those words made tears form in your eyes as the fear began one that could be real.

You shook your head “I do J, please.” You whined as the lace of your panties wasn’t helping your case rubbing against your clit “then beg properly.” Each word came out fully enunciated even though he would have barely enough energy to walk back to the house.

It didn’t take you long to start as your legs began to shake “I’ll be your good girl John I promise.” You offered pursing your lips together “please just let me come and I’ll make it up to-” you were cut off as a shaky moan left your lips.

John decided to finally have mercy on you in that moment “you can let go baby.” His words were soft as he realised that he was close to “right there John.” You pleaded using all of your energy to help yourself get closer to your high.

Even as you were outside the sound of your skin slapping against his roared in your ears “god shit!” You gasped as your body stuttered causing your head to collapse into his shoulder “fuck there.” John grunted as his come coated the walls of your cunt causing your vision to go cloudy.

You stayed pressed against his chest for a few more moments as you caught your breath “you up for round two princess?” John joked pressing a kiss to your lips “not on this chair.” Upon sitting on as your adrenaline dropped you realised how truly uncomfortable it was.

“I’ll go wherever you want me.”

Seven weeks later

It couldn’t have been like this. You had gotten a new job during the summer in an attempt to get a fresh start and this was not a fresh start at all “shit!” You cried out seeing that the tests came back with two clear lines.

That meant that not only were you pregnant, you also hadn’t spoken to the baby daddy in six weeks.

So now you were left with the giant task of finding your John when you had no way of contacting him.

#john marino imagines #John Marino smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

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moody-alcoholic · 4 months ago

Text

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 11 - Epilogue

CW: nightmares.

AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Previous parts - masterlist

As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.

You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night.

John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them.

Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon.

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them.

“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen.

“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.

“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.

“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head.

“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning.

“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace.

“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop.

“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.”

He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his.

“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile.

“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers.

“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.

…

You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room.

“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off.

“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table.

“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.

“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb.

“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork.

“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses.

“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it.

“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you.

“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter.

“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs.

“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope.

“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up.

You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.

…

You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture.

He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle.

Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains.

You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be.

You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake.

“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in.

“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.

“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that.

“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark.

“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile.

“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss.

You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep.

…

You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine.

“Mornin’” he says, turning it on.

“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.

“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him.

“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back.

“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks.

“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.

“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.

“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine.

“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea.

You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.

You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.

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ultramarinaa · 6 months ago

Note

I got inspired to write my own short Champion fanfic, so here you go :) don't mind any typo/spelling/grammar errors, no beta we kayak like Tim

Martin wasn't sure how he ended up here, but he was at Jon's flat. He has been for the last few days, as a matter of fact. Elias had begun to cause a stink about a cat staying in the archives, so Jon simply decided to take Martin–Champion–home.

Not that Martin was complaining. Jon had a nice home, though it seems underprepared for a cat. Jon seemed to be quite the minimalist apart from things he'd like to collect, random little trinkets that took up space on his desk.

Also, not to mention living with his crush that had never dwindled, despite Jon's harshness. Jon treated him like a prince, at least by cat standards, but it's still more attention than he ever gets. He curls up on Jon's lap, on blankets, and Jon's bed had also become his. It was pure bliss (also, Jon's bed head was adorable).

It was also because of this that he'd get quite sad when Jon left for work. He'd meow, rub on his leg, sit in front of the door, but to no avail Jon would leave with a regretful look on his face. This wasn't the biggest of his problems, though.

Alone and nothing to do, Martin decides to take nap on top of the couch. He stretches, extending his claws as he does, and curls up. He dozes off into sleep, but when he opened his eyes, he noticed something was off.

He blinks as his vision clears, and realizes he is laying on the main part of the couch. He shifts, only to look down to see that he is human again–which would be fantastic if Jon wasn't going to be home at any moment. Martin had been missing, though nobody really tried to find him, and he was sure it would be a shock to find someone suddenly in your flat.

Martin gathers himself before sitting up, promptly adjusting to being back in his old and human body. How was he going to explain this? 'Yes, Jon, I was a cat and definitely didn't break into your house'?

Before he had too much time to think he heared a click and then the door knob begin to turn. Ready or not, he thought, and listened to door break as it opened to show Jonathan Sims.

Jon lookes baffled to put it lightly. He stood there, unmoving and unchanging, making long eye contact with Martin. He can feel his face get red as it makes him nervous, and he thinks this is the last thing that should be happening. "Uhm, hi. Jon, I'm so sorry–"

"How did you get here? I–" Jon tosses his bag to the side as he makes his way over to Martin, his voice sharp. Not angry though, which surprises Martin. He sees worry in Jon's eyes as he talks. "Where on earth have you been?"

Martin has to process what is happening, giving a small nod before he starts talking. "Right, I...might have been stuck as a cat?"

"You were Champion?" The tone initally came off as surprised to Martin, but he can see Jon frown slightly. "That's...I'm glad you're okay."

"I touched a Leitner, it was my own fault," Martin says simply. He feels guilty about the situation, but he can't help feeling a sting of hurt knowing nobody actively looked for him.

"If I would have known...I'm sorry." Jon rests his hand on Martin's shoulder, though he has to look up at him. "Elias told us you were taking some sort of break from work. Should have never trusted his word."

"He told you I was taking a break?" He didn't know what else to do other than gesture his hands to emphasize his point. "That bastard knew what happened!"

"Let's give him a taste of his own medicine," Jon said, having a beautiful determined look his his eyes. "Wouldn't hurt to have another cat around the archives."

Martin was certain he was in love with this man.

I fully believe John just wants to have a cat and getting one but also getting rid of Elias at the same time… is a wonderful deal

Also hehehehehee happy ending for cat!Martin, no angst just sillies

Just what I needed, thank you so much!! 💞💞💞💞

#asks #tma fanfic

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 6 months ago

Text

Do think I’m your babygirl? I think the fuck not.

Pairing/au: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4095

Rating: +18, NSFW, minors please don’t interact

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, smut with very little plot, angst, casual sex, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina and wearing a dress and heels, no other description of her is given, reader’s thoughts in italics, mention of infidelity, swearing, pet names (babygirl, good boy, baby, princess), reader is bad at feelings (she has her reasons though), soft!Joel, brief mention of Sarah, a lot of kissing, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl, please!), reverse cowgirl, balls grabbing, a little of bit of scolding during sex 😈, plot twist, neck kissing, nipples play, teasing… I think it’s all? If I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

A/N: First of all, if you happened to read something similar but badly written on AO3 don't worry, it's still me, no one stole anything from me and I didn't steal anything from anyone lol

I've been wanting to rewrite this for a long time and I think I'm pretty happy with how it came out this time. I really hope you like it too. As always, English is not my first language, I don't have beta and I finished writing it last night at 3am (ops, I did it again!), so please forgive me if you find any mistakes.

To anyone reading this, thank you for your time! I added a brief A/N at the end, see you there!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Should we get out of here?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “where?”

“My house”

You give him a quick kiss on the lips agreeing “okay”.

You just met him but he’s the most handsome man to ever approach you in a bar so you don’t care.

You’ve already been the good girl, the one to introduce to someone’s parents, the one who’s always kind and modest, who never says a word too much and does everything in her power to make her man happy.

Turns out it didn’t do you any good.

You were engaged, a year ago.

You and Mark had the whole plan.

The wedding, a house with a white picket fence, a nice yard, a dog, a big family.

It was all decided, until you found out he was cheating on you with one of his coworkers.

All those “babygirl, I’m going to be late”, “babygirl, don’t wait for me for dinner, that asshole of my boss gave me a ton more paperwork to deal with”, “babygirl, tell John I’m sorry I couldn’t come to his party today but I still have a million things to do here at the office”, “I miss you, I wish I didn’t have to work so much” texts…all bullshit.

One day you came home early from a work trip and found him on the couch of the house you had rented and where you had lived together for two years with his dick stuck in his colleague’s pussy.

What a piece of shit.

You spent four years of your life with him and yet it felt like you had never really known him. You wondered how he had managed to lie so well, for so long, without even flinching.

You cried, you screamed as he made up some lame excuse to justify himself, you wondered how you had wasted all those years with someone like that. How come you hadn't noticed before how fake and manipulative he was? How come you hadn't noticed that every time you argued he tried to make you feel guilty even though he was the one who was completely in the wrong?

Oh yeah, you were in love. Blind, dazed, completely drunk with love.

Love that chews you up and spits you out.

What a huge scam.

Never again, you thought.

Mark could have gone to hell with his colleague, you were done.

You would no longer let feelings get the better of you.

Sure, men were still nice. When they were quiet and fucked you good and then went back home, no strings attached.

He says his name is Joel.

You put a finger over his mouth to silence him when he tries to add his last name. “I don’t need it,” you tell him.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” he replies.

His voice is definitely a plus. Deep, husky, charming. It goes straight to your cunt.

Even his beard brushing your cheek as he speaks in your ear to make himself heard over the chaos of the bar isn’t bad at all.

A small talk later you decide he is the perfect one night stand.

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt with a plaid shirt over it.

His hand is wrapped around your waist in a delicious way, just above your hip. Big, expert hand. His brown eyes are staring at you, intense and piercing. Chocolate eyes, and you've always liked chocolate.

His plushy lips curve into a smirk when you say “let’s go cowboy, it’s time to show me what you got”

He chuckles, reaching down and squeezing your butt.

“After you, princess”

You roll your eyes at the pet name but he’s too gorgeous to back down.

He walks you to his pick up truck, in the parking lot.

He drives to a nice neighborhood, full of small houses with well-kept yards and safe streets where you imagine kids riding bikes and playing softball. The contrast between him and what’s around you makes you laugh. Joel doesn’t seem like a friendly neighbor, a candidate for trick-or-treating on Halloween, or the life of the block parties. He seems distant, a man of few words, a grouch. Which is perfect as far as you are concerned. You had stopped caring about men’s chatter.

When you were talking at the bar you noticed that his hands are calloused, rough, you were about to ask him what job he did but you decided you weren't interested.

Who cares, this guy will be out of my life after tonight.

You look at his profile in the truck, his expression when you put your hand on his thigh while he’s driving, his lips that twitch slightly, his Adam’s apple that jump in his throat, his hand that grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Really, truly, delicious.

You like him. His thick raven hair with just a few streaks of gray, his high forehead, his aquiline nose, his strong jaw. Your best friend sent you a tiktok a while ago about her favorite actor with a little song that said Girl dinner playing in the background. Watching Joel in the car you think of that. Except he isn’t just dinner but a six-course meal at a fancy restaurant.

By now your opinion of men is that they are all assholes and cheaters and the guys you met after Mark only supported that theory.

When you met someone cute your new philosophy was legs open, heart closed.

You wouldn't have opened your heart for Joel, but your legs yes, very willingly.

He parks in front of a cute little house, with a rose bush climbing up a trellis to one side and an impeccable lawn.

A small porch with a rocking chair and pots of geraniums complete the picture. “Jesus,” you think “This guy and his house have nothing to do with each other”

Joel has a worn-out, 90s rock star look in a flannel shirt and combat boots, a guy like him could have lived in a shitty loft with a mattress on the floor and wooden crates for nightstands.

“Here we are, princess” he says. He got out of the pick up and come to open the door for you.

“Quaint neighborhood,” you observe.

“See, I’m unmarried but I have a daughter” You stop him right away. “Nah, too much information.”

He has a daughter. You didn’t expect that either. And you don’t want to know, you don’t want to know a damn thing about him other than how good he fucks.

“Okay” he mutters, shrugging. He seems a little confused by all your restrictions but it is essential for you to keep your distance.

Knowing this already bothers you, you should have taken him to some motel instead of his house. He has a daughter, so he's a responsible family man? A guy who never does things like pick up a stranger in a bar? What if he hasn't gotten laid since Bush was president?

You don’t have time to waste on foreplay and cuddles, he’s not the “let’s talk first” type, is he? He doesn't seem like it but at this point you're not sure of anything anymore.

You enter his house and look around. It's a nice place, comfortable, simply furnished, there's too much brown around for your taste but it's okay.

You don't have a chance to process the photos hanging on the wall and scattered around on the tables and bookshelves before he pins you against the wall and kisses you.

It's a hungry, sloppy, passionate kiss, his lips moving over yours as if he wanted to devour you in one bite.

“Great job” you think, at least you were right about something, he is a man who doesn't waste time on ceremony.

His tongue slides warm into your mouth and it tastes like whiskey, his hands run over your body, caressing you.

First the neck, tightening slightly against your throat, then on your shoulders where he slides the straps of your dress. Then on your chest, to pull down the fabric just enough to uncover your bra. He cups one of your breast with his hand, squeezing it. He pulls down the bra and uncovers your already hard nipples. He leaves a trail of kisses and small bites on your jaw and all the way down the column of your neck, until he reaches your chest taking one of your buds into his mouth, you feel the warmth of his tongue and lips, licking greedily at it and then sucking it slowly, his beard tickling on your skin.

Fuck, this guy knows what he's doing.

 You mentally apologize to him for doubting it, as you throw away your heels, kicking them to the floor.

You moan loudly as his heavy hand lifts the hem of your dress and covers your entire pussy. He presses hard on your clit and your body tenses like a violin string, you arch your back seeking more friction. He places his other hand on your hip, caging you between him and the wall. He continues to kiss you, while he dip in your slit through the now completely soggy fabric.

He grunts in your ear “so fucking great mmm pussy is dripping on my floor, isn’t she?”  You don't even have the energy to cringe about him using pronouns for your cunt as he pulls your panties aside and dip two fingers into your slit, moving up towards your clit, rubbing it.

His eyes are settled in yours, you feel hypnotized by his gaze, so overwhelming and beautiful. It pierces you to the wall.  His fingers stroke your clit in small circles, slowly and then faster, applying pressure every now and then. His smile widens as he watches you needily and hotly arch into his palm.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” You desperately clench around his thick fingers when he slides his index and middle into your hole. When he begins to slowly sink inside you you feel like you can’t hold his gaze anymore, it’s almost like he’s digging into your soul, your head crush into the crook of his neck and your arm tightens around his shoulders.  Your brain is completely clouded with pleasure and its scent, wood and leather with a fresh clean undertone. He smells so good. It’s intoxicating.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, just enough to allow his hands to feast on you. His fingers keeps getting in and out of you reaching your most sensitive spot while his other hand goes back on your tit, playing with one of your nipples, twisting and gently pulling it between his fingers.  You can no longer hold back your whines, they mix with his hoarse grunts, filling the air in the room. “Fuck, it feels so good” you wail and he grumbles “yeah…such a nice cunt, fuck, so tight”  He pumps even harder into you, scissoring a bit, hitting your g-spot again and again, his thumb on your clit and you feel your peak building up from your tummy and raising hot into your chest, you’re gasping for air as he bites in the tender skin of your neck and lowers his mouth back on your nipple.  “mmm I would never stop sucking your tits, God, they are so - fuck” His voice dies in his throat as you clench hard around his fingers whining “don’t stop please don’t stop oh fuck sogoodsogoodsogoodsogood”, you sound almost like you’re on the verge of crying.  He gently urges you “let go, gorgeous, give it to me, drench my fucking fingers”  And you come, as much as you hate being told what to do he’s having the best of you. It’s basically the only moment in which you give yourself the chance to get lost, when your climax starts shuttering all over your body, wave after wave, washing away your control over yourself.  He holds you down as your body shakes uncontrollably.

His mouth leaves small kisses on your sweaty skin, cradling you through your orgasm along with his hands that gently cup your ass, squeezing it. You moan against his neck, clinging to his flannel shirt.

His fingers slide out of you and he brings them to your mouth, he runs them over your lower lip, wetting it with your pleasure and then gliding them over your tongue to his knuckles, you lick them greedily under his satisfied gaze.

You stay hugged against the wall for a while, not saying anything, just breathing on each other's skin.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly when he feels your breathing return to normal. “I’ve never felt better.” You answer, finally looking into his eyes again and running a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

He's cute, too cute, his eyes look at you sweetly and he caresses your cheek, brushing his thumb on your skin.

This is no good, this is no good at all, you think.

You have to do something before you make the terrible mistake of melting like ice cream in the sun for this man. You can't afford that. So you take matters into your own hands.

You push him against the wall in turn and his wide eyes tell you he wasn't expecting it.

You give him a smile as you lower your hand to his pants, feeling him hard under your touch. He’s big. Much bigger than you expected even though you just got a preview of him pressing against your thigh as he finger-fucked you.

Your hands quickly fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them. You make room in his underwear to reach his cock. Joel grumbles “oh fuck, yes”

“Take off your clothes” you order. Joel undresses in a second, throwing his clothes and boots on the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of his bulging boxers. You move back against him, massaging him from above the fabric, feeling a large stain spreading across the front. He’s dripping profusely, which makes you even more hungry and eager to try him.

You smile at him as you lower yourself to your knees, bringing his boxers down with you.

His cock springs free right before your eyes, hard, uncut, and impossibly perfect. Your hand slides over the line of hair leading to his crotch, slightly beaded with sweat, and wraps around his base. He doesn’t stop staring at you, enraptured.

Your hand moves up and down his length, lingering at the tip, collecting his precum and spreading it out.

You feel your saliva building up in your mouth and as much as it annoys you to admit it your clit twitch, you can’t wait to taste it. Your mind is fighting against this guy, but your body knows exactly what it wants and doesn’t care if it gets carried away.

You place your tongue on the tip, swirling it around and then sliding it flat down his shaft, over his throbbing, engorged vein, down to where your hand encircles him.

You hear him grunt and your mouth twists involuntarily into a smirk.

His musky flavor coats your tongue as you continue to work his length, you look up and there he is, hair tousled, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape, eyes like ebony that sparkle with lust, beautiful as a painting. He almost hurts your eyes. You squeeze them shut, concentrating only on the heat in your mouth and your movements on his red and swollen tip.

You slurp greedily increasing the pace as you feel him throbbing more and more intensely.

You are enjoying the silence filled only by the sound of your obscene lapping and his hoarse moans when he decides to speak.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re incredible”

Your blood runs cold, it’s like an unconditioned reflex you can’t escape. An uncontrolled anger rises from the pit of your stomach, you stop and let it out through your mouth. His face becomes confused, you take a deep breath to try to calm the fire that burns inside you and ask him sharply: “what did you call me?”

Mark's face materialized before your eyes, vivid as it hadn't been in a long time. It’s terrible.

He hesitates for a moment before saying “babygirl” in a garbled whisper.

“Don’t ever do that again” you tell him in a firm voice before moving closer to his cock and he mutters “no one has ever complained”

You stop again “It gives me the ick. So if you want me to continue I suggest you stop nagging like a child. Otherwise I can always walk out that door and let you finish with your hand”

“It’s just a pet name” he says, rolling his eyes, like it were no big deal, as if it didn't mean you were going back to where you started, to when you were too blind to realize how much of a liar your fiancé was, to when your heart was in pieces.

He can’t know, that’s true, so you haven’t completely blurted out. But that annoyance still rises in your throat. And you can’t cry, you really can’t. So sarcasm creeps in. “You think I’m a little girl? A princess who needs saving? Fucking Snow White?”

His cock is still standing between you two, waiting for attention. You might laugh at the situation, maybe make a joke about how well he holds his erection, but you're not really in the mood.

His Adam's apple moves in his throat, he gulps air before answering: “no, but…I mean, it’s just a word”

You shrug, looking at him with reproach and resignation at the same time, and try to answer with all the nonchalance you can muster. “Okay. It will mean that pornhub will take care of you, I don’t give a damn” If he can’t compromise then he’s not worth your time, just like every other man.

You start to get up and he stops you, a slight panic in his eyes “oh no, come on, don’t be like that. Ok, ok, I won’t say it again”

You lower yourself again and are about to start over in silence when it occurs to you to teasing him a little, just a little and only because he ruined the moment for you. He did it unintentionally but still. You don't mind the rough play and you think this big guy in front of you can take it. “Let's try” you think “I can always stop”

It’s not like you’re going to hurt him badly, just teasing.

So you look him in the eyes with all the candor you can, taking one of his balls in your hand. You squeeze it and say “Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to shut the fuck up for me?”  “Yes” he murmurs.  “I’m not your fucking babygirl, we clear?”  “Yes”  “Say it.” “You’re not my babygirl” he whispers. You squeeze hard on his ball, seeing his lower lip twitching with pleasure, his eyes dark with lust. Yeah, he likes that, it’s clearly painted all over his face. “Louder” “You’re not my babygirl” his voice breaking in the attempt as you put your mouth on his ball sucking hard on it. You let go with a satisfied smile “Perfect” You take his shaft back into your mouth, squeezing the other ball gently with your hand and he leans against the wall, eyes shut and whimpering. It’s so good to hear him like that, your clit is throbbing between your leg and your arousal is dripping all over your inner thighs. You stop when you feel him on the edge, another few licks on his red and angry tip would be enough to send him over but you’re craving him into your cunt. And also, you like seeing him all pent up and needy for you.

He’s basically babbling at this point, begging you and swearing, eyes desperate for a release, all his body tense and covered in a light layer of sweat.

He’s totally gorgeous and you’re not done yet.

“Don’t cry baby, I will give you what you want” you coo, your lips curved into a smirk.

You get up and take his hand, guiding him on the couch in his living room.

It’s a nice brown leather couch, there is a little hollow in one of the pillows and you imagine that is where he usually sits to watch tv. This is also unnecessary information that makes him much more human and cute than you would like.

You can see him on Sundays, sprawled out there, his feet up on the coffee table placed in front, a beer in his hand, watching football.

No, that’s too much.

You sit him down in the center, caressing his cheek. You pinch one of his nipples and he lets out a groan. You take off the dress that at this point is practically dangling uselessly from your waist, your now soaked panties and your bra which he took care of pulling down earlier making it useless as well.

You’re finally completely naked before his eyes.

You throw everything aside on the floor, feeling incredibly vulnerable but trying not to show it.

Joel is silent but you can see his eyes feasting on your body, lusting over every curve before settling on your pussy that glistens with your juices.

You move closer and lean him against the back of the couch and sit on him, holding his cock with one hand and gently pushing it into your hole. You are incredibly wet but you proceed with caution anyway, he is too big to take in one thrust.

He pants beneath you, lacing his hands on your hips and guiding you gently. You can't see his eyes anymore, which is good for you, he's already made you feel exposed enough. It’s better this way, you can take what you want from his body without letting him affect you too much.

When you are fully seated on him you start to move, bouncing on his thighs, swinging your hips, he tries to keep up with your pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can, sinking into your wetness.

One of his hands moves to one of your breasts, cupping it and squeezing it, brushing your nipple with his palm and then taking it between his fingers.

You lean forward slightly to let him reach that soft spot inside you that always makes you see stars. Your ears are filled with his moans, the sound you like to hear when a man fucks you.

Nothing more than his natural, delirious, desire-filled sounds.

You throw your head on his shoulder and he kisses you, you cry into his mouth as you feel his hand move from your breast to your clit and begin to rub it furiously.

His tongue is warm and delicious in your mouth, a small trickle of saliva runs down your chin as you try to chase it and dance with it.

He's at his peak now, you feel him pulsing hard inside you, his moans muffled on your lips.

“Come inside, I’m on the pill” you only manage to whisper.

His pubic hair tickles your ass as he slams into you repeatedly, until you feel long, hot streaks of his cum painting your walls.

You continue to rock on his hips, lacing one hand around his neck, kissing him, until everything gets confusing, blurry, overwhelming in a way you can't explain. You reach him in a state of bliss, sweaty and exhausted but never as satisfied as you are now.

You pull his cock out of you and sit on the couch, he is on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of small hungry kisses as you both try to catch your breath. You close your eyes so as not to see his, probably softened and vulnerable, nothing more wrong than letting yourself be taken by the tenderness after sex.

After a while he gets up and disappears into the kitchen without saying anything. He returns with a glass of water and hands it to you. “Thank you,” you say, before quickly swallowing it to ease the dryness in your throat. You set it on the coffee table and stand up before he tries to say something stupid.

You gather your clothes, getting dressed as he watches you from the couch, you feel his eyes on you the whole time.

You lean in to give him a kiss and his hand on your hip feels like a silent request to stay.

You don't say anything, there's no need to say anything.

You walk out the door without looking back.

You're not a babygirl.

A/N: I personally don't mind being called "babygirl" and Joel could call me anything, really. LOL I just wanted to try something different, hope you all liked it. Thanks again for reading, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated ❤️

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel miller x afab!reader #pedro pascal

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vivgst · 1 year ago

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COD Headcanons

I mean they're not hc it's just shit I think they say/do but I needed the title okay?

As I previously said this is just my silly little opinion, I would love to read yours but don't take this too personal and I'm saying this cause Imma bout to write SHIT about two characters and I'm scared cause they're loved by the whole fandom.

Okay thats all thanks<3333

Let's start with my favorite piece of shit, shall we?

Alejandro Vargas

I don't care what yall say this man is a CHEATER and he would make you feel guilty about it too because you're not "meeting his needs".

“I’m not sexist???? We cannot do the same things, it's basic biology!”

Maybe he's good in bed, let's give him that.

Alain meza said he loved Rudy so let's assume he's bi, uh... he wouldn't admit that shit, not in a million years, probably would get offended if you even dare to suggest it.

He doesn’t argue to fix things, he argues to repeat how much in the right he is, I feel like he NEVER admits he’s in the wrong, he seems very stubborn.

Now can we address that fucking temper of his? Breathe mf, no ones gonna die if you stop yelling for a second.

I feel like he must’ve had A LOT of trouble when he just joined the army because of his anger issues, think about it for a moment: someone with a higher rank yelling at him and you think he just took it? I doubt it.

MUST HAVE fought with Valeria more than once cause that temper of hers is just as shitty.

I promise I don’t hate him, well I do but he’s one of my favs, I don’t know how to explain this bye.

Simon Riley

He’s very chill I love him <3

I think of him like a very nostalgic man, he thinks a lot about his past, past lovers, past experiences, when he was new in the army, you know? Not in a “I’m still traumatized” way, he’s just nostalgic.

He’s absent minded, he’s always daydreaming (when he’s not doing something important ofc).

Thin and I don’t fucking care, THAT MAN IS THIN, you can even see it sometimes!!!! He’s got chicken legs, I love them.

He really seems to enjoy dad jokes.

He cares a lot about his teammates and I love it, it’s very cute.

Can we talk about how everyone put him as a fucking beast in bed? I don't see it, I think he's ruthless when he needs to but I don't think this applies when it comes to sex, he suffered a lot too and sadly I know too well that sex is pretty fucking terrible after rape, especially because you feel like you're gonna hurt the person you're having sex with so...

John MacTavish

Typa guy everyone loves, even your dad and your grandma's always saying how handsome he is.

Maybe he was bullied bc of his accent but he just told them to go fuck themselves.

Caring and loving, buys his partner flowers and their favorite candy/chocolates/desserts.

Remembers anniversaries, birthdays, medical or school appointments.

Too charismatic and funny.

Kyle Garrick

He’s too good for his own good… I feel like he always end up going out with INSANE people, the jealous type, they’re always bitching and making him angry and stressed but he forgives them cause he’s an angel.

Very sweet, loves cooking for people he loves.

Kinda family oriented.

He smells good, I can almost smell his perfumeeeeee he smells good, he spends MONEY on it too.

Even the devil is afraid of him when he’s mad.

I think he's very private about his life in general, doesn't like to vent his problems.

Hot lover.

John Price

Now this man is a FATHER, my fucking dad I swear.

He seems pretty conservative to me, not in a bad way like he wants you to be his personal maid and slave, more like he wants to date to marry, hates casual sex.

Loves whiskey.

Dad energy, he would be so caring and loving with his child, he would give that baby the moon.

I don’t think he would love to date a younger woman, not a woman in her twenties at least, I think he would be into women his age.

If you feel disappointment by that, maybe you could try fixing your relationship with your dad, sweetheart ;).

Hates confrontation and loves to work things out.

Let’s not talk about how sex with be with the old man, okay? Thanks.

He's not that old, I get that but he looks like he's fucking 68.

Phillip Graves

He looks kinda daddy in that pic, not gonna lie.

“How come you don’t want to have sex? What about me? Have you thought about how that makes me feel? If your head hurts, sex would help but you never consider me, I’ll sleep in the couch”.

A selfish, self-centered bitch, only thinks about himself.

Feeling good having sex with him? Aw baby, try again cause this mf would use you like a damn toy and he couldn’t care less about your feelings or how much pain you’re in.

Cheater, he wouldn’t even be quiet about it. “Oh you want to divorce me? And where are you gonna go, sugar? You’re nothing without me”.

Doesn’t fucking know where the clit is, he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Of course straight, loves to be white and American.

“Of course I can say whatever I want, I’m from America I have freedom of speech”.

Fuck you graves.

Rodolfo Parra

Perfect.

He seems so sweet and kind and considerate I love him.

Smart as hell, probably got the best grades when he was a kid.

Doesn’t hate anyone, no one hates him.

Loves nature and animals but he can’t enjoy it too much cause he is always busy.

Dreams about having a big family and a dog (a golden, probably).

Forget about having rough sex UNLESS he’s mad (fr mad like losing his shit but that doesn’t happen frequently).

Could be a teacher if he wasn’t in the army, he’s very patient and can explain things easily.

Have a pretty smile.

Valeria Garza aka MAMI

Feels like she needs to prove something, she was underestimated for so long in the army that now she’s always trying to prove to herself how badass and good at her job she is.

Almost no one knows the real Valeria, her favorite things, music taste, if she prefers cold or hot, coffee or tea etc.

She hates cold weather with all her MIGHT.

Likes to smoke only when she’s stressed.

Likes animals but thinks they’re so much work and she doesn’t have the time.

Did drugs once and hated it.

Feels guilty when she spots a church but she WOULD NEVER admit this shit to anyone.

Used to the worst of life so she didn’t like when someone is kind with her, is like “tf am I supposed to do with it???” but she gets used to it eventually.

I don’t think she has anger issues but def she doesn’t fucking know how to regulate her emotions, she lets stress take over her.

She would love a narcowife, kind of woman who wears a lot of beachy dresses and have a shitty personality like her (like Kate del Castillo in La Reina del Sur or in Bad Boys, exactly that kind of narcowife) (I’m kinda projecting, sorry lol).

I can’t picture her with a sweet girl and I think a sweet girl wouldn’t be able to handle that woman.

She keeps arguing even though she realized she’s in the wrong.

She wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time with her S.O, she's such a workaholic.

I don't think she likes to wear men clothes.

I don't think she hates kids but I can't picture her with kids.

Wouldn't divorce once she's married.

Btw I didn’t want to make this too sexual bc lately this fandom is full of just that, too much smut, too much violence and rape in the smut and it’s so graphic that I feel I’m watching instead of reading wtf, its uncomfortable and I honestly can’t picture the characters being that violent and vile.

As I said in my previous hcs… these guys are surrounded by violence, stress and blood every day, I personally don’t think they wanna get home to torture their partners (well, maybe graves cause he is a piece of shit that mf. Okay kidding, not even Graves is that much of a bastard).

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melanieph321 · 2 years ago

Note

Hi can you write angst Rúben finding you sick because of your pregnancy in the bathroom after an away game, he's panicking and take care of you for the rest of the night

Love this! Switched it up a lil bit.

Ruben Dias x Reader - Here For You

Enjoy!

You were pregnant with your second child, and Ruben had been the epitome of support and care for you throughout the entire journey. He had been there for every prenatal appointment, had endured the late-night cravings and mood swings, and had even renovated his office so that you could work from home and focus on your growing family.

One day though, when Ruben came home from training, he was greeted by a scene that made his heart race with panic. You were lying on the bathroom floor, clutching your stomach and gasping for breath. Your face was crunched up with discomfort and your eyes were glassy with fear.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Ruben shouted, dropping his gym bag and rushing to your side. "Are you okay?"

You tried to speak, but your voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know," you managed to say. "I just feel so sick. I've been vomiting all day."

Ruben's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, but he knew he needed to stay calm. "Should I call the paramedics?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back.

"No. I think it's normal. I'll be fine. Just help me get off the floor."

You had barley finished the sentence before being cradled into Ruben's strong arms. He brought you to your bedroom, setting you down on the bed.

"I'll be right back." He reassured.

You knew what he was going to do. He was going to call the school your son went to. You were supposed to pick him up an hour ago, however, with your aches, you hadn't made it out of the front door.

Nevertheless, your son was picked by one of Ruben's friends who's daughter went to the same school.

You had managed to drift off to sleep when a small set of hands patted your face.

"Hey, mommy needs to rest." Ruben said, catching your son next to you in bed, trying to get your attention.

"It's okay." You smiled and invited your son to lay under the covers with you. You were feeling much better now that you had gotten some rest.

"Is the baby sick too?" Your son asked, his small hands roaming your pregnant belly.

"No, the baby is fine." You ran a hand through his locks. "How was school honey?"

"Okay. Uncle John picked me up."

"He did?"

You looked to Ruben who stood watching you in the door frame.

"Remind me to call and thank him." You said.

"No need. John was glad to help."

Still, you couldn't help but to feel guilty for being such a trouble when pregnant.

"Come on son, time to get you washed up and ready for dinner." Ruben took care of most of them chores that night. He left you to stay in bed whilst he took care of dinner, helped your son with his homework and eventually put him to bed.

He returned to you in bed once the house was quiet and all the lights were off.

"What?" You asked, as Ruben had crawled into bed without saying a word, just grabbing a hold of your hands and pressing them to his face and his lips.

"I was so scared when I found you in the bathroom like that." Ruben pressed soft kisses to your fingertips. You ran your free hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, but I promise you, I'm all good now."

Ruben shook his head. "I know, I know. I was just....so scared."

There was more to it than that, you could tell. "What is it baby?"

Ruben lifted his head to meet your eyes, reavilng that his eyes were glossy with tears. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you." He said, voice thick.

"Oh, baby..." You pulled him into your embrace, letting his weight press you down against the matress. "You will never lose me." You said, your hands cupping his face.

"Us." He muttered.

"What?"

"Lose us." He corrected, a hand slipping under your shirt, stroking the crease of your belly.

You smiled and nodded. "That's right, you'll never lose us."

Ruben's head dropped to your lips, kissing you hard. You kissed him back with equal amount of passion, reminding yourself how greatful you were for your family.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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dreamingofep · 5 months ago

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Forbidden Love Pt. 9 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem! reader]

TW: Fluffy and angsty mixed in with some tension

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hi everyone! Long time no see. I could never abandon this fic, life just got tough. But this series is back and I’m excited to show you where this is going. I’ve missed writing about ‘69 E and I think it shows🫣 More to come very soon, I’ve been writing a lot and will post more in the next few days 💕

As a refresher, I’d recommend rereading where we left them on part 8 ❣️

❣️

Just turn around.

Turn around and don’t ruin your life.

You wouldn’t listen to the voice of reason. You needed to see Elvis. You couldn’t stay away any longer and avoiding all the problems you two had wasn’t going to help anything.

The rod iron gates open for you and you slowly drive in. Your clammy palms gripped the steering wheel, nerves wracking your body. The biggest fight in your life had taken place here and the last time you saw Elvis, you told him you still didn’t want to see him ever again. It was terrible for you to say to him and you can only imagine how he’s been feeling these last few weeks. The crisp air washes over you as you try to act like nothing is bothering you. You gently knock on the front door and hope you don’t cause a scene being here.

The housekeeper opens the door and has a surprised look on her face when she sees you.

“Hi y/n, what a nice surprise,” she says gleefully and glances at the duffle bag in your hand.

“Hi, so nice to see you. Umm, is Elvis home?” You ask timidly.

“Yes, he is. Would you like me to go get him for you?” She asks.

“Yes please.”

“Okay, come inside honey it’s too hot out here.”

The cool air conditioning makes you sigh a breath of relief. It was so much better in here. You nervously walked to the living room, pacing a bit. You were nervous to talk to Elvis. You were fearful he would be the one who didn’t want to talk to you this time and tell you to go home. Then what? Where would you go? Most of your friends were in Memphis. You had no other place to hide from your shitty husband.

You hear footsteps come down the hall and come towards your direction. You feel your stomach drop and you have to breathe sharply before you see him. Elvis rounds the corner, dressed in an all-black suit, a blue silk scarf around his neck, looking dapper as ever even late at night. He gets closer to you and you start to notice different details about him. How he had some darkness underneath his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping. He leans against the entryway of the living room, crossing his arms when he looks at you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you respond shakily. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” he says matter-of-factly. “I haven’t slept very much,” he explains.

You instantly feel guilty. You knew it was because of you and whatever you wanted to call this situation you two had.

“Yeah me either…” you mumble.

“What are you doin’ here?” He sighs.

His serious eyes look straight through you, sending a chill right through your bones. His tone wasn’t the normal excited one he always has. He was giving you the same energy you’ve been giving him. Cold and reserved.

“Our power got shut off and I needed some place to stay for a bit,” you explain to him. He throws you a confused expression, not understanding what you mean.

“Your power got shut off? By the city? Why would that happen?” He asks.

“I don’t know… John wouldn’t tell me. He’s hiding something,” you murmur, looking down so he wouldn’t see your hurt eyes.

He walks closer to you and takes your bag out of your hand. You look up again at him, needing comfort from him.

“I’m sorry honey. You stay here as long as you need,” he tells you.

“What’s about Dianne, I don’t want to cause any attention. Or what about the guys…” you say apprehensively.

“Don’t worry about them. I’ll take care of it,” he says a bit peeved.

“Okay,” you say solemnly.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room,” he says.

You follow closely behind him, still nervous about being here. He turns to the bedroom that’s next to his and opens the door for you. He lets you step in first and then sets your bag down on the bed for you.

“Is this room okay?” He asks sweetly.

“Yes, thank you,” you smile.

You both stand there looking at each other, unsure what else to say.

“Thank you for letting me stay here,” you say quietly.

“Of course, I love having you here,” he tells you.

His words rip at your heartstrings. He was always so genuine and loving even when things were difficult between you two. He takes a step closer to you and then retracts back almost immediately.

It was like he could feel that magnetic pull you had for him. He doesn’t want to be far apart from you, the closer he is the better. Neither of you could fight the attraction.

“I‘ll let you get some sleep,” he says as he starts to leave the room.

“Wait,” you say abruptly, “can we talk? I want to talk,” You ask nervously.

He nods his head, turning to quietly close the door.

You sit on the edge of the bed and look at him.

“Can we start over?” You ask softly.

“How do you want to do that?” He sighs.

“By just being honest with one another. No more lies or hiding anything from each other. That’s all I ask,” you tell him.

His eyes melt into yours, “Of course, I can do that,” he murmurs.

You’re happy he’s agreed to all that, you expected him to put up a bit of a fight and insist he hasn’t lied to you.

“Okay good… Is there anything else you need to tell me?” You ask him, quietly nervous for that answer.

“Yeah, there’s a few things,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You look at him expectantly, “like what?” You ask apprehensively.

“Just how desperately I’ve missed you these last few weeks. It’s like I can’t function without you here,” he admits. His eyes have you locked on him. They’re so seductive and beautiful that when they look at you, you melt away.

“I know. I feel the same way. I just needed time alone to deal with how I felt about the situation,” you admit to him.

“I don’t blame you, honey. I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. That guilt has stayed with me for years. I was just too scared to tell you the truth,” he admits.

“It’ll take time to heal from all of that, I won’t lie, but I missed you. So much.” You say as you feel your throat become tight with emotion.

His eyes soften and you feel the heavy mood shift. You wanted him to hold you, tell you everything was going to be alright between you two. Honestly, anything would sound good coming from his lips.

But you don’t think you were ready for his touch. You two needed to work on being cordial again.

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?” He asks.

“Oh yes actually, I haven’t eaten since lunch,” you realize.

“Okay come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You follow him to the kitchen and try not to make a noise. He still hasn’t told you if you two are the only ones in the house or if Dianne is here too…

You try not to let it worry you and try to act as calm as possible. Elvis opens the fridge and peers in, contemplating what to get you. He scratches his head and closes the door to go to one of the cabinets to grab a plate. He goes into another cabinet to grab a pan and places it on the stove, looking at it with concern.

You’re trying not to giggle because you know what’s going on; he has no idea how to cook and doesn’t know what to do in a kitchen. You sit patiently on the barstools and watch him continue to shuffle things around and act like he knows what he’s doing. He nervously looks at you then looks down immediately a bit embarrassed.

“I uhh… I really don’t know how to cook… I can make a sandwich for you,” he says unsure. You giggle softly and nod your head.

“Yes, that sounds perfect.”

He grabs the bread off the counter and grabs some condiments from the fridge as well as the lunch meat and pickles. You watch in silence as he articulately makes your food, spreading the mustard to the very edges of the bread and then stacking the pickles and lunch meat on top. He gave off nervous energy and thought it was cute that he was so desperately trying to impress you with something as mundane as this. He goes to sift through other drawers to find a knife and cuts the sandwich in half for you. You take the plate from him and he leans against the counter on his elbows, expectantly waiting for you to try it.

You try to wipe the smile off your face but it was impossible, he was being so damn cute. You grab one of the halves and squish it down a bit before biting into it. It tastes good, you can hardly mess up a sandwich. You feel his eyes burn into your skin and watch you take another bite.

“Do you want a bite or something?” You chuckle.

He looks down and shakes his head. His cheeks were tinged with pink.

“Oh, no, sorry for starin’. I just wanted to make sure you liked it,” he tells you.

“I do, thank you for making this for me. I had no idea you could make your own food,” you murmur cheekily.

He heard that last part and hiccups a laugh.

“Hey now, I’m not completely useless.”

“I didn’t say you were!” You joke, “It was just an observation.”

You giggle as he tries to hide his own smile from his face.

You finish the sandwich while you two mostly sit there in silence. You didn’t mind it, being near him was nice.

“Can I make you something?” You ask timidly. You weren’t sure if he’d take your offer but it could hurt to ask.

“Sure, I’d love that.” He says lovingly.

You get down from the barstool and make your way around the counter. You head to the fridge and turn around to see him.

“Well, what do you want to eat?” You ask.

His eyes drink you in, slowly and analytically, making your ears burn. He should not be allowed to look at anyone like this! It was absolutely heinous for him to do this! Especially to you! You should not have asked this man such a question. He’s already shown you what he likes to do with his tongue…

Don’t you dare say something coy you smartass, you think.

He bites the inside of his lip momentarily before speaking, “I think there’s eggs in there. I’ll take a couple of eggs.” He says as he leans against the counter.

You turn back around to grab some butter and the carton of eggs off the middle shelf. You sift through the drawers like he did since you had no idea where anything was. He watches your every move, moving when you move and watching how you’re cooking. It only takes a few moments for the eggs to cook and you serve them on a plate for him with a few pieces of toast.

You serve him the plate at the counter and he has a charmed look on his face. God, he’s so easy to love. That face makes you feel like a little girl in love with a boy you saw across the schoolyard. You were in love with his presence, in love with the way he looked at you. But were you in love with him? You don’t think your heart will let you. Everyone fell in love with Elvis, but actually getting to love him was almost impossible. His life was busy, chaotic at times, and something that didn’t have room for you. As much as his eyes pleaded for you to accept him, you just couldn’t. You’d get hurt sooner than later.

He doesn’t finish the whole plate and just plays with the remaining food on it with his fork. He’s looking at you while you’re deep in thought about him. He shakes his head and looks back down at his plate.

“What?” You ask him.

“Just had a funny thought that’s all,” he says low.

“Yeah like what? I’m sure you have funny thoughts all the time,” you joke.

He chuckles in agreement and looks back up at you.

“I was just thinking how I can get used to you making me food and being here all the time,” he hums.

Your heart stops and you stare at him for a moment. Was he insinuating that he wants something more from you? It just wasn’t possible. You had no idea what to call this relationship and it was still so messy with Daniel, that you didn’t know where you’re future led to.

You try to brush it off as if it was a joke. You couldn’t get attached and get your feelings hurt more.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Your housekeepers would have nothing to do then,” you joke and go to clean the pan. You can’t look at him to see the reaction of your blasé answer, you don’t think you can handle that right now.

After you were done cleaning up, you were met with his soft, needy eyes. God, how does he do that? He doesn’t even speak a word and he makes you weak.

“Did you want to go to bed now?” He asks. You glance at the clock and see it’s almost three in the morning. You weren’t tired, but it would be best to get some rest.

“Yeah I think I’ll take a shower and get some sleep,” you agree. He gets up from his chair and walks with you out of the kitchen. You don’t wait and see if he’s following you to the bedroom, you just pick up your duffle bag off the bed and head straight for the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You take your time in the shower, letting your body relax and clear your cluttered thoughts. You knew you needed to figure out what to do about your future and if John fit into that plan anymore. So far, it wasn’t looking possible. He’s only grown more cold and distant through the years. He’s made it clear he won’t support you in your career choice. You just hadn’t been without someone to help you in so long. You’ve been married for almost eight years. It’s a long time to just get up and try to figure out everything on your own.

You knew Elvis would be there for you in some capacity. He’d probably insist that you stay with him until you’re comfortable moving somewhere else on your own. But you feel that would be too messy. There would be too much talk that Elvis has not one but two women living with him, neither of them being married to him. It just wouldn’t end well for him and didn’t want to harm his image.

After some time, you get out of the shower and put some pajamas on. They were simple cotton shorts and a button-up top. You open the door and jump startled to find Elvis standing by the window.

“Hi darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t expect you in here that’s all,” you say timidly. You put your bag at the door of the bed and try to cover yourself. You didn’t have a bra on or anything and your nipples poked through the thin fabric. His eyes burned into your skin already and couldn’t bear the tortuous looks that he’d give you when he saw your thin pajamas.

You sit on top of the bed and bring a pillow to your chest, covering yourself quickly. You look at Elvis to see if he noticed your weird behavior but his expression didn’t wavier.

“I think I’m going to try and get some rest now,” you tell him. He nods his head understanding and doesn’t go anywhere right away.

“Okay honey, you need your rest. Do- umm, do you mind if I stay in here tonight? I’ll sleep on the floor,” he tells you softly.

Your heart aches for him. The parallel words he just spoke to you took you back eleven years when he said the same thing the night he was about to leave for the army.

“Yeah sure, Elvis.”

You grab the extra pillow next to you and place it at the foot of the bed.

Any other night, you’d love him to sleep with you. But tonight just isn’t the night.

You get underneath the blankets and watch Elvis get another blanket from the closet. He takes off his jacket, unbuttoning the shiny onyx buttons before lying down. He looks damn fine in nothing but his black slacks. You have to look away or else he’ll see your burning cheeks. You flip over and lay on your side facing away from him.

“Good night honey,” he murmurs softly.

“Good night,” you whispered.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you searched the house frantically. The sense of dread filled your veins and you couldn’t control your emotions. You try to yell out for help but your voice is hoarse and weak.

You feel like giving up and crumbling to the ground. There are double doors in front of you and need to be hidden from anyone seeing you have this breakdown. You quickly open the door and lock it behind you, trembling with anxiety. You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down but it’s no use.

You realize all you want is him.

You want him to hold you.

To tell you everything is going to be alright.

“Baby?” A deep voice says coming from the corner of the room.

Elvis appears looking like he just woke up. His hair was messy and his eyes squinted at you in the low light. You run to him, needing to be close to him.

“Oh God, oh God I found you,” you tremble rushing to him.

He looks at you a bit confused and stays silent. You wrap your arms around him and find comfort in feeling his warm body pressed against yours.

“Where have you been? I’ve been so worried,” you tell him. He slowly puts his hands on your hips and looks at you concerned.

“Honey, I’ve been right here. I haven’t gone anywhere,” he tells you.

“No, you left me. You left me all alone and never said anything about why. Please don’t do that again,” you sob into his chest. He holds you tight, trying to comfort you the best he can. The scent of him intoxicates you, it is so comforting and alluring.

You wipe your tears before looking up at him.

“Love me. Please love me,” you whisper.

“Honey I-, you know I already do.”

“No, I need you to show me. I need you to show me how much you love me,” you plead.

“Baby,” he sighs shaking he’s head, looking away from you.

“Elvis please,” you try to say louder but your voice cracks.

You put your hands on his chest and play with the buttons on his shirt. You lean in and kiss his exposed chest. His skin was so soft and felt so good to touch. Your fingers quickly work his shirt off of him and wrap your arms around his naked torso once more.

“Love me,” you beg, placing kisses on his collarbones.

“Honey you know I want to,” he grumbles and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Then do it,” you say scratching your nails along his back.

“No, honey.”

Your hands slither down to his belt and slowly start to unfasten it.

“Please I need you. I need you to make love to me.”

“God I want that, I want to so bad honey,” he groans as he holds onto you tighter, and his breathing quickens. His hands grapple onto your dress and squeeze tightly at your hips. You gasp and pull at his waist, leading him backward to the bed.

“Please love me,” you whimper louder.

He stands in between your legs and covers you head to toe with kisses, each one making you more breathless than the last.

“Yes baby, I love you,” he whispers into your ear, pressing his heated body against yours, aching and trembling in anticipation for him…

“Baby? Baby, are you okay?” Elvis’ voice says worriedly, lightly shaking you. You stir awake and flutter your eyes open. Elvis is kneeling at the edge of the bed holding one of your hands and the other hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, oh God, yeah I- I think I’m okay,” you say dazed as you sit up on your elbows.

“Are you sure honey? You were cryin’ and whimperin’ in your sleep. I got worried,” he explained. He raises his hand to your cheek and wipes away tears that gathered at the corners of your eyes.

You try not to blush as you remember the dream you were having about him.

Begging him for love.

For anything he could give you.

“Oh yeah I’m sorry for waking you,” you say quietly.

“It’s okay. Were you having a bad dream darlin’?”

“No… It wasn’t like that,” you say weakly.

“What happened baby, you can tell me.”

You didn’t want to tell him any of it. You couldn’t tell him how you secretly craved him to love you in every shape and form.

“It was just about something I couldn’t have.”

His eyes look like they could cry. He saw through the lie and felt your heartache.

“What did you want honey? Maybe I could give it to you,” he says softly.

Oh no this was too much. You felt the dam break and your tears fall down your cheeks. You squeeze his hand that hasn’t stopped holding yours and wish you could explain. You wish you could tell him what you want.

“It’s not something you can give me,” you weep.

He grows more concerned and gets up off the floor. He sits on the edge of the bed and brings you to his chest. He lets you cry, holding you tight and telling you it’s alright. You believe him everything is going to be fine. But there will always be that part of you that wants him to love you. It started that night, so long ago before he was shipped off to Germany. You desperately wanted him. You wanted those lips to kiss every care away and have him love you as much as you grew to love him.

Your love never faded for him, it was just buried underneath a pile of insecurity and doubt. Having him back in your life made it more complicated than ever and only made that love grow.

This love you had for him was a forbidden love.

You were married.

He was the biggest musician on the planet and was infatuated with a married woman; you.

Too many people were in the way to let you two fully love one another. There would always be a blockade that would hurt you in the end. So you had to love in secret, hiding how much you actually needed him to make you whole.

You pull the covers back and move over to make room for him to get closer.

“Please lay down with me.”

His eyes flash a look of apprehension, not sure if he should. You pull at his arm and plead for him.

“This is what I want, please give this to me,” you whimper.

His breathing falters and he nods his head, getting underneath the blankets and bringing you to his chest. You instantly feel satisfaction. He was your comfort and he didn’t have to do anything else. The sound of his fluttering heart doesn’t slow down the longer you lay on him. Was he nervous to be in bed with you again? Excited? You couldn’t decipher what he feeling at the moment but you didn’t want it to ever stop racing for you.

“Get some sleep baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs. You hug him, thanking him silently, and let yourself drift off into a blanket of dreams.

•

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