#all i really had to do was stop using bar soap on my face

[thatfizzyyyy]

i have clear skin now where is the good mental health 🧍🏾‍♀️

[fidogo]

john price x reader, but accidentally running into the 141 after only going on a few dates with Price wc: 0.9K warnings: mentions of sex, age gap, daddy kink, dacryphilia, use of sweetheart + angel a/n: I make such a stupid joke in this about Ghost and Soap LMAO forgive me

The pub was warm, a sweet haven from the chill outside. It was already decked out with cheap garlands and holiday lights, all hung with care. Your friends tear off to the bar to order a few drinks, leaving you to find a booth. 

You slink through the chairs and the tables, making a beeline to the one available booth. You’re about to get nice and cozy when you stop in your tracks. 

He’s here.

You didn’t know John terribly well. The two of you had only gone on a few very successful dates, but you were not close enough to know who he was sitting with.

What you did know was this:

1. John was older than you.

2. He was an absolute gentleman whenever he took you out.

3. He really liked when you called him daddy and liked fucking you until you were in tears (and after...especially after). 

Back to the three men at the table with him. Given their demeanor, it was safe to assume they were also military. One of them was maybe Gaz/Kyle...bu that was it.

Your feet move automatically. (Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop walking and go back to the booth you found. Maybe it’s too early to meet his friends.)

The men’s boisterous voices quiet as you approach, and the one with a mohawk elbows one who's masked. You ignore them, focusing on John, whose face softens a smidge (and his eyes light up).

“Hi, John.” You’re a little more nervous than you thought you would be. (He had you creaming on his cock and whining like you were in heat the other night. This should be nothing!)

“Hi, Sweetheart,” he answers, standing to kiss your cheek. “What’re you doing here?” His eyes are warm and earnest, immediately putting your anxieties to rest.

“Just getting a drink with my friends before the new year. Things are about to pick up, so we’re trying to just get a drink one last time.” John looks at you so fondly, it warms your heart. Fuck the alcohol, fuck the fire or radiator or whatever’s in here, all you need is John Price to look at you like this to make you warm and toasty. 

“Would you all want to sit with us?” He asks, knocking on the table. You glance at the table full table, trying not to laugh at his friend's expressions (shock and disbelief coupled with some respect for Price). 

Remembering his manners, John introduces you to his men and places one large, strong, hand on the small of your back.  You lean into him slightly, trying to not seem too pleased to be here with him. 

“This is Gaz, Soap, and Ghost,” John introduces. You freeze, confused for a second. You thought..... Oh. Oh.

“Oh.” You say aloud. Stupidly. John quirks a brow at you, prompting you to ramble on.

“I’m sorry. To be candid, I thought Soap and Ghost were your dogs..." you say trailing off at the end.

To be fair, he had only ever been to your place. You stare at Soap and Ghost. Based on the small amount of information you knew, you had just assumed...

John lets out a deep laugh and pulls you closer into his side. 

“What?” Soap yells. He’s no longer checking you out appreciatively and just looks at you in disbelief. “How could you think that, lassie?” 

“Well, John seems like a man who lives alone with two big dogs that have manly names.” You explain, sinking more into John’s side, trying to embed yourself into this warmth.

His thumb lightly strokes your back, sending shivers up your spine. He's so big and strong and... Your brain turns to mush for a second.

“Well, what about Gaz?” Soap gestures to said man, trying desperately to make any ground in this. Your push away your vaguely horny thoughts. You have to lock back in for Kyle's sake. You smile at Gaz and politely extend your hand. 

“No, I knew Kyle was a man. A pleasure to meet you.” Gaz shakes your hand and beams while Soap slumps over, and Ghost looks like he’s rethinking how he got here.

“Need to work on your manners. That way when Captain talks about you, people don’t think you're dogs,” Gaz says drawing out and emphasizing dogs with a cheeky smile. Soap just grumbles. 

“Anyway,” you start to say, turning your attention back to John. “My friends and I are about to take that booth back there, but thank you for the offer. But call me. Or text.” He nods and leans in to press a quick, chaste to your lips. 

“Have a good night, Sweetheart.” You nod before going to finally claim your booth. 

You hear Soap ask why John ‘calls Kyle by his name but not me or Simon’, making you smile. They seem nice.

And then you hear what you assume to be Ghost, say, “Not bad, Captain. Not bad at all.”

You preen at that, chipper mood carrying you through the night, even as your friends bombard you with questions once they’re all seated.

You wave shyly at John and his friends when they eventually file out into the cold. John sends you a wink that has you sinking into the booth. You’re so fucked. 

About 15 minutes later, your phone buzzes.

Can’t stop thinking about you, angel

Apparently, he’s fucked too.

[countcvnt]

Dwell On It

[Ghost x Fem!Reader x Soap]

Summary: Your roommate hits you with the worst sentence you've ever heard in your life, and you can't help but dwell on it. Warnings: MINORS DNI!! 18+ Oral (f! receiving), pet names (doll/love), praise, threesome, not beta'd Word Count: 3.2k A/N: Was gonna write this with like ghost not wearing his mask, but i was already halfway through so... Mask Stays On During Sex. (don't ask why i didn't just have him take it off, idk...)

“Fuck!” You get home and slam the door of your apartment.

You want to scream louder, but you don’t want anyone to complain. You kick your shoes off at the door, a little too violently, and your roommate walks out from his room.

“You good?” His voice is full of confusion, he looks tired.

“Sorry, Hunter,” You groan, “I didn’t know you were here…”

You sigh and walk towards your room. He rubs his eyes and watches you closely. He squints at you. “What happened?” You scrunch your nose up. “I don’ wanna talk about it.” You mumble, entering your room. “It’s just, I have to do everything! All the time! Dishes? Me. Trash? Me. Paperwork? Me!” You want to scream again.

“Oh, so you do wanna talk about it?” Hunter cocks a brow at you.

You refrain from swinging. “Hunter, I’m tired. Okay?” You walk towards your bathroom and Hunter trails behind you.

“You still going out tonight?” He asks, like he’s planning something. “WIth those, uh, big military men?” You nod. “Well, tell them something for me?” You nod again. “You need your pussy ate.”

Your mouth drops. Hunter leaves your room. His name can’t even form. You're stunned. Your roommate has successfully stunned you. You stand in your bathroom, for a moment and hear Hunter’s door click. You come to your senses and rush towards his bedroom. You jiggle the doorknob. Locked.

“I won’t be here tonight.”

You let out a frustrated scream into your hands and walk back into your room. You look at the alarm on your nightstand and see you have two hours before you have to be at the bar. You groan. Two hours to dwell on the words Hunter had just said to you.

You sit at the bar, face contorted with displeasure as you wait for Simon and Johnny. You sip your water and huff. Your feet kick off the barstool and you keep thinking about Hunter. You wish you would have throttled him.

“Hey bonnie! Oh- You look-”

“Happy to see us.” Simon lets out a low rumble, causing you to turn towards them.

You lighten up. Or try to. “Sorry, had a horrible day. Roommate decided to make it worse and go to his room with no remorse.”

Johnny cocks his head. “How’d he make it worse?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I came home stressed, and he said the most untrue statement I’ve ever heard!”

“Which was?” Simon asks.

You want to not tell them, but they’re curious. And you’re still butthurt about it. “That I ‘need my pussy ate’!” You exclaim. “Which,” You put a finger up, “is so far from the truth- Like? Why would he say that?”

“Did he offer to do it?” Johnny really asking the important questions is pissing you off.

“No!”

“Bad roommate etiquette.” Simon smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkling gives it away.

“Shut up.” You mumble and sip your water. Johnny laughs. His hand hits your back as he continues to laugh. “What?” You give him a blank stare.

“I think your roommate was onto something.” Johnny can’t stop laughing. You want to get up and leave. You look at Simon, who is also finding amusement in your situation. You want to die. You stand from your chair and roll your eyes at them. Johnny reaches for your arm but you don’t yank away. “Where ye goin’, bonnie, we just got here!”

You pout at him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Johnny gives you a concerned look. Hunter’s words run through your head, ‘so you do wanna talk about it?’ You do want to talk about it, but not right here. In front of everyone. “I don’t need that. Never have, never will.” You stand firm on your words. And let something slip that you normally only would if you’ve been drinking. “Not like it’s that great anyway.”

Simon and Johnny both stare at you. Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’ve never- Wait a minute.” Johnny collects his thoughts. “You’ve never had some good head?”

You want to hide. Run to the bathroom and escape through the window. As if either of them would let you do that… Knowing you have nowhere to run, you answer. “No. I guess not.”

“Y’know,” Johnny hops off his seat and locks eyes with you, moving closer. “I can’t speak for Ghost,” he motions towards his friend, “but I’m sure I could change that.”

Your stomach flips. The butterflies in your stomach are rapidly turning into bumblebees. Your eyes widen and you look at Simon. He moves himself from his stool and is looming over you. You look up at him.

“Our hotel isn’t far from here, doll.”

Your mouth is agape. “Oh.” You say, placing a hand on your chest, ready to clutch your non-existent pearls. Without thinking, you speak up. “My roommate’s out tonight. We can go to mine?”

“Too dangerous.” Simon shakes his head. Johnny nods. You put your hands up. “Anyway,” Simon continues, “don't need any noise complaints from your neighbors.”

“Oh?” Johnny smirks at him. “Think yer gonna have her screamin’ that loud?” Simon rolls his eyes. You're standing beside the bar, baffled. All you can do is blink up at them. “What’d’ya say?” Johnny questions you. “Wanna come back with us?”

“You'll never wanna leave.” Simon's voice is gruff, sure. He's so sure of himself.

“Y'know what,” you nod, “yes. I don't think I can pass this up…”

Johnny seems relieved. He begins to leave the bar, you trail behind him, and Simon walks out behind you. Johnny is quick to wave down a cab. The three of you pile in the back, and you are so very sure that they can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage. You think the taxi driver can by the way he looks back at you when Simon gives him the hotel name.

His eyes linger on yours, you give him a smile, really not wanting him to think poorly of your currently awkward situation. You're in the middle of Simon and Johnny. Johnny's hand grips your thigh, just where your short black dress ends. He's almost massaging in. Simon places hand on your other thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. You look up at Simon and see he's looking at the driver through the rear view mirror. His eyes cut down to you and you swallow hard.

The cab reaches the hotel and you bring out your purse. Johnny is quick to stop you from paying and Simon pulls out his wallet. Johnny exits and helps you out. “Thank you,” you look back at the taxi driver and wave at him.

As you three enter the hotel, Simon walks up beside you, his hand snaking around your waist. “Did you thank and wave at the cab driver?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Yer so sweet.” Johnny compliments you. His hand grabs hold of yours. “Can't believe ya've never had-”

“Sh,” you swat at him with your free hand, when someone walks past the three of you. Johnny smirks at your reaction. The three of you make it into the elevator and Johnny hits the floor they're on. You're standing in the elevator; Johnny, you, then Simon. Johnny is holding your hand and Simon is still latched onto you like a lifeline. You're watching the floor number go up when Johnny steps in front of you, his grip on your hand tightening. “What?” You whisper.

“Y'know, we've been on a couple dates-”

“Is that what those were?” You genuinely didn't have a clue.

Simon stifles a laugh when Johnny is taken aback. “Yeah!” He groans, “Not the point. We haven' kissed, bonnie.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’. “You can change that, you know.”

Without a word, Johnny leans in and kisses you. Your heart, which is still pounding, is now in your throat. Simon is watching the both of you. He shifts, situating himself, his eyes and arm never leave you. The elevator stops. Simon's grip on you tightens and Johnny pulls away. He moves back to the side of you and you're left standing there, eyes locked with the woman stepping on.

“Oh my,” the words leave her mouth seemingly without thinking.

You smile at her. Awkward but genuine. Simon directs your attention to him. Johnny is still holding your hand, he's watching you and Simon now. Simon leans down and moves his mask up slightly. “My turn, love.”

You eagerly push yourself up and into the kiss, forgetting a woman was in the corner of the elevator. Johnny's hand tenses around yours, his thumb rubbing the back of it while you kiss Simon. The elevator is abruptly stopped and the lady immediately exits. Simon pulls away and you're left staring up at him, like he’s hung the moon and stars.

“Guess she wanted to take the stairs. Can't imagine why…”

The elevator goes up a couple more floors and stops on Simon's and Johnny’s. Johnny leads you out of the elevator and Simon follows you, not letting you go. You follow Johnny down the hall and reach their room. You swallow hard, heart beating in your ears. He unlocks the door and swings it open, motioning for you to go in. Simon escorts you into the room and Johnny closes the door behind the three of you. It locks, the click echoes through the room.

“So… Men,” you look at the both of them, “what now?”

“I think it's sorta obvious,” Johnny smiles at you. “If at any time you are uncomfortable, let us know.”

You nod. “Of course. Um,” Your palms are sweaty against the outsides of your thighs now, “how do we start?” They both stare at you. “What?!” You whine, “I’ve only ever had one serious boyfriend and this was not his forte!”

Johnny and Simon both give you solemn looks. You want to hide again. You can't help but feel like you're being judged. You shift your weight and keep yourself planted, from running away.

“Simon,” Johnny looks at his friend, “wanna do the honors? Since you're so sure you can get her to scream?”

You want both of them. “We have the whole night.”

Johnny perks up. “You wanna stay the whole night?”

“I mean, I can-”

“You're so cute.” Simon remarks. “I'm sure we'll find something to occupy us all night.”

And so your long night begins.

“You can take that off…” You whisper to Simon, “I know your name, why can’t I know your face?”

“It’s better this way, love.” Simon pulls the bottom of his mask up, uncovering his mouth again.

The mysteriousness… The anonymity is hot… You will not deny it. But you want to see him. You want to gently touch his face and kiss him softly. By the look in his eyes, he wants to kiss you too, but maybe not as gently. You reach up and cup Simon’s face, bringing him towards you. Simon lets you. He lets you grab him and place a soft kiss against his lips.

You’re so soft and sweet. And he has every intent of making you his.

“If you two are gonna make out, can I-” Johnny motions towards you. Simon sighs, pulling away from you. “I wanna taste you, bonnie…” It is at that exact moment you realize just how convincing of a man Johnny is. You nod at him. Johnny moves behind you, causing you to cock your head. You look over your shoulder at him.

Simon seems to know what’s about to happen.

Johnny’s hands grab your waist and he kisses your neck before dropping to his knees. ‘Oh,’ You think as you look back at Simon, ‘he’s doing it right here.’ Johnny moves to a sitting position, pats your thigh for you to spread your legs slightly, and you do. He scoots himself between your legs and is now on the floor, between you and Simon.

Simon gives you a moment before kissing you again. He observes you. Johnny looks up at you as he grabs your thighs with a grip you have never felt before, and he hitches your dress up some.

“No panties, huh?” Johnny smirks at you, his fingers going straight for your entrance.

“No!” You jump at his warm hands, “Those were not an option with this dress.”

Simon and Johnny both nod. Simon begins to kiss you once more, as one of Johnny’s fingers push into you. You moan into Simon’s mouth and you grab his forearms, tightly. Johnny kisses your thigh and pushes another finger inside of you while Simon slips his tongue into your mouth. Simon’s hands hold you in place, they grip your hips. You are sure you are going to have marks in the morning.

Johnny is good with his fingers. Phenomenal even. The way you’re being kissed by Simon while Johnny nips and sucks on your thigh and fucks with his fingers is magical. You let out a high pitched whine and Simon pulls back.

“You feel alright?” He asks. You can only nod. You try to answer but only whimpers and moans are escaping you. “You’re doin’ great, doll.”

Your whole body is on fire. You can’t think straight and your stomach is in knots. Your eye clinch shut and finally words form, “I’m gonna-”

Johnny’s fingers pull out of you and you gasp. You look down at him in shock and confusion. He places his fingers in his mouth and sucks on them. Simon watches Johnny and then looks back at you. You pout. Hard. Words aren’t forming again and you are a mumbling mess.

“Use your words, love.” Simon smiles at you.

“Why’d you stop! Please continue.”

“Anything for you, my sweet girl.” Johnny looks up at you and you realize his pupils are dilated. His big blue eyes are dark with lust and hunger. He dives in. He is slowly lapping at your pussy and you’re tensing up again.

Simon steadies you and keeps you from falling forward. You are holding onto Simon like your life depends on it. Johnny’s tongue hits your clit and your body jolts, your back arching. Simon’s lips latch onto your neck and he begins to suck on the sensitive skin, he still keeps you steady. You are moaning out and crying for Johnny; for him to let you finish.

His name falls from your lips, “Johnny!” You whimper, legs clenching together. He is quick to hold your legs apart. Your orgasm hits hard and fast. You’re shaking above Johnny, holding onto Simon, who is still sucking at your neck.

Johnny pushes himself back between your legs and stands up behind you. “You’re so good,” Johnny turns you towards him and his mouth and chin is sticky from the slick of your pussy. “You’re bein’ so good for us.” He gives you a kiss and you’re still trying to collect yourself.

Simon pulls away and you stare at him. He’s looking at you, his eyes darker than Johnny’s. His smile has dropped. His face has dropped. He is watching you with a predatory gaze.

“Your turn,” Johnny smacks Simon on the shoulder.

“Take your dress and shoes off.” His voice… You immediately comply. “On the bed.” Once again, you do as he says. “Get behind her Johnny.”

Johnny seems thrilled. He must know what is about to happen. You are set at the end of the bed, and Johnny crawls behind you. He lets you lean back onto him, he lets you get comfortable. You watch as Simon stalks towards the bed, towards you. You are putty in his and Johnny’s hands. You are sure by the end of the night, you would do absolutely anything or them.

Simon drops to his knees in front of you and looks with the same hunger Johnny watched you with earlier. You, in your fucked out daze, could still pick out the difference in their stares. Johnny’s gaze was filled with a sweetness, one that gave you butterflies. Simon’s gaze is wild, full of fire, and has you gripping the sheets before he’s touching you.

Johnny’s hands are rubbing your biceps as he whispers praises in your ear. You’re too focused on Simon to really catch what Johnny is saying. Your heart is pounding again, and you want nothing more than to be touched. You need Simon to touch you.

“If this is too much-”

“Let us know.”

You are nodding, violently. “Please,” You beg, “please just touch me.” Simon’s smile returns, and it’s lethal. His hands grip your thighs and you flinch. You can already see marks from Johnny’s earlier grasp on you. Simon begins to bite and suck at your thighs, a lot harder than Johnny had. One his hands moves up your thigh and two fingers push into you. His movements are somewhat harsher than Johnny’s. He is no way harming you, but Johnny was so gentle. The difference is jarring, in a good way.

Simon’s mouth moves up your thigh and he easily finds your clitoris. He sucks at the bud as his fingers pick up the pace inside of you. You are crying out for him, begging him to go faster, harder.

“Sure ye can take it?”

“Yes, please-”

Simon doesn't argue. He gets a little more rough with you. His hands holding your hips down holds you tighter. Johnny’s mouth connects with your shoulder and he kisses you softly, still giving you praises. Your hips buck slightly, but Simon is holding them too tightly for you to go anywhere. You let out a cry of pleasure. One of Johnny’s hands is on your arm, rubbing circles into the skin, while the other goes towards your chest, settling at your breast. He begins to massage it, before pinching your nipple.

Your back is arching again. Your hips are chasing after Simon’s fingers. Your body is hot again, your stomach is knotting up. Your toes curl and you let out a loud whine.

“Simon!” You’re gripping the sheets. “Please- So close-” You moan.

“So good,” Johnny reassures you, “Bein’ such a good girl for us.”

It sends you over the edge. Your body is shaking. You’re seeing stars and don’t want either of them to stop touching you. Simon pulls away from you as you’re coming down. He looks up at you, and your eyes are on Johnny. You’re breathing heavily. You look down at Simon through half lidded eyes and he stands up. He is so fucking big.

“I’m glad-” You start, “I’m glad my roommate was an asshole.”

“I’m glad he didn’ offer to do that for you.” Johnny presses his forehead to your shoulder.

You let out a soft laugh. “He definitely would not have done that…” You begin to sit up. Johnny and Simon are quick to stop you.

“Where are ye goin’?”

“I, uh, was gonna-”

“You’re not leavin’ now, are ya, doll?” Simon asks. He seems genuinely curious. He doesn’t want you to go. Not yet.

“I don’t have to. The night is still young…” Johnny hugs your waist tightly as you say that. “And I’d love to repay the both of you…”

It was definitely going to be a long, eventful night.

[angel5ofp0rn]

idk, just a thought 😋

141 x Drunk!Reader / Jealous!Ghost x Drunk!Reader

TW: implied drunk sex

(idk what’s up with me and making the reader drunk all the time ???)

also idk i just like the idea of Soap being a perv and Ghost being a fuckin weirdo 🫣

You didn’t expect the guys to actually give a shit about your birthday... Maybe it was just the excuse to drink.

Still, you couldn't deny that you loved seeing the squad out of uniform and all dressed up for the night.

You even put on a little skirt and low-cut top, curled your hair and wore makeup for the first time in months.

Price bought you your first drink just as a 'happy birthday, kiddo', but it didn't stop there.

Soap got you a few shots and Gaz let you sip from his drinks throughout the night.

You were feeling pretty buzzed by the time you convinced some of the guys to move to the dance floor.

Ghost watched quietly from his spot at the bar across the room. You expected as much.

The two of you have been keeping your distance; you were basically still strangers, apart from the random glances you give each other during training.

Ghost thought of at least saying happy birthday to you, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He wasn’t exactly an affectionate man. Wasn’t great at showing his feelings.

Feelings? The fuck was he thinking?

You’re just nice to look at, that’s all.

It was strange seeing you with your hair curled and your skin showing, almost like a real woman. He had a nagging thought that if the guys weren’t around, he would've gone over to you.

You and Soap are on the dance floor, you tipsy and swaying while he holds your waist, keeping you steady as he mumbled something close to your ear.

"I don't think so." You muse, looking up at Soap. He had asked if Price was watching the two of you, knowing Price has a tendency to act like a father towards you especially. "Why?"

Soap took a moment before he spoke again, the alcohol clearly getting to him. His words were becoming more and more slurred throughout the night, although he still had that Scottish accent mixed it that kept him sounding charming... though almost unintelligible.

"Y'know yer beautiful, aye? An' th' lads, they've been eyein' ya for the whole night. 'Course ol' Price, he's been' tryin' to keep us from gettin' yer attention… But even Ghost! Ghost thinks yer fuckin’ gorgeous.”

"Ghost thinks that?" You tried to focus your eyes on Soap’s, fighting the alcohol.

Soap leaned in even close now, his breath smelling like strong liquor. He even placed his hand on the small of your back, right above your skirt as he spoke again.

"Oh, aye. But we all do… I do."

You giggled at that. Soap's arm wrapped tightly around your waist now, pulling you chest to chest and murmuring more drunken ramblings into your ear.

You quickly forgot what Soap mentioned about Ghost.

But Ghost was still watching.

He watched the way Soap leaned in to whisper in your ear, the cocky smirk on his face, how dangerously close his hand was to your ass.

He watched you drape your arms around Soap’s neck, eyelids heavy. He watched how your eyes wouldn’t focus on Soap’s eyes; they kept darting down to his lips.

Ghost didn’t watch to watch anymore.

“The steamin’ hell’r you doin’, LT!” Soap calls after Ghost as the masked man grabs your arm and drags you off.

“Let me go!” You groan, trying to pull away from his grip. When that didn’t work, you tried to stomp his toes.

No use, he had those fucking steel toes on as usual. After more ignored pleas, you resorted into trying to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes; like an unruly toddler.

Ghost didn’t miss a beat. He easily scooped you up and slung you over his shoulder as he head towards the bar’s exit.

The second he set you back to your feet outside on the pavement you tried to shove him.

Stupid idea, really. Fucker didn’t budge.

“What is your problem?” You glare at him.

“My problem?” Ghost’s voice was low. “You were about to let MacTavish feel you up in front of everyone in there.”

“Who cares if Soap and I have a bit of fun? What, are you jealous or something?” You groan.

“Of course I am!”

You froze. Your eyes locked in with his.

“You’re… jealous?” You ask again, softer this time.

You can see the subtle movement of Ghost’s jaw clenching beneath his balaclava.

“You’re drunk.” Ghost states. “You should get back to base and sleep it off.”

He’s right, of course. But you don’t listen.

You don’t fully realize you’re doing it, but you reach your hand up and touch his face.

Well, his mask.

Ghost’s breath hitches, and he thinks of swatting your hand away but he doesn’t. He lets your cup his face. Caress his jaw. Rub your thumb over the fabric covering his lips.

He even lets you pull him in closer, lets you get just an inch away from touching noses before he speaks again.

“I cant kiss you.”

You finally come back to earth, your drunken mind suddenly sobering.

“Oh.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both silent. Both unsure of what happens now.

“Guess I’ll just go-”

“I want to.” Ghost speaks again. “I would like to.”

“Okay…”

“But I can’t.” His huge arms cross as he looks down at up. For something so genuine, he’s saying it as if it’s a threat.

“Right…” You nod slowly, your drunken brain trying its best to gauge what’s happening. “So..?”

“I can’t have you flirting with MacTavish.” He practically growls. “He doesn’t want more than a quick fuck.”

You frown at this, eyebrows lowering into a scowl.

“So you won’t kiss me, but I can’t flirt with anyone else?”

“Yes.” Ghost acts as if this was common sense.

“‘s’not fair.” You roll your eyes. “You can’t do that t’me.”

“Well, I am.”

“Are not.” You challenge. You push past him and re-enter the bar, leaving him outside and alone.

“Bonnie!” Soap calls you over as soon as he sees you.

He’s sat at a table with a bunch of other men that you don’t recognize. He pats his thigh, inviting you to have a sit on his lap.

Ghost’s warning still fresh in your head makes you hesitate.

But who is he to tell you who you can and can’t flirt with? He doesn’t even talk to you.

You try not to stumble as you make your way towards Soap, accepting the invite to sit on his lap. His arm instantly wraps around your waist, holding you in place.

“Didn’t know you had a barracks bunny.” One of the men snickers as he looks you over.

You frown, looking to Soap, waiting for him to correct them. To explain that you’re actually on the squad- no, the best sniper on the squad. An asset to the team, really.

Instead, Soap laughs along with the rest of them, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Nah, nah. ’m keepin’ this bunny all to m’self.”

You had to have heard him wrong, right? Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your hearing.

Before you could defend yourself, you felt Soap’s hand sliding up your thigh, slipping under your skirt.

Your face is burning. The guys all laugh. You feel sick.

Flirting and kissing is one thing… Soap treating you like a sex toy is another.

“Soap, stop.” You mumble, pushing his hand away.

Soap gives you a wink. He thinks you’re playing some sort of game here. His hand starts to creep up your bare thigh again. His lips press against your neck.

“I said stop!” You stand up and shove him by his chest, admittedly harder than you intended to.

Soap landed on his back on the dirty bar floor, his face a mix of pissed off and confused.

Price was by your side immediately, pulling you away from the table as Gaz helped Soap to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Price, I just-“

“I’ve got you a cab outside. Get your ass back to base and sleep it off.” Price barked.

Sober you could handle commands and threats like they were nothing.

Drunk you started tearing up immediately.

Price mumbled something that sounded like ‘for fuck’s sake, kid’ as you turned and walked outside.

Ghost was still outside, balaclava lifted so he could smoke a cigarette.

You didn’t notice him as you slid into the back seat of the cab, but he saw you.

Then he saw Soap and Price exiting the bar one your cab took off.

He watched calmly, smoking as normal while Price stood with his foot on the side of Soap’s head/face, Soap’s cheek pressed against the pavement.

He couldn’t hear what they were fighting about and frankly he didn’t care. He wondered if any of it had been the cause of your teary eyes.

•••

You lift your face off of your pillow and squint at the caller ID as your phone rang.

You’d only been back in your room for about an hour at this point and you’ve been trying to battle the spins.

You swipe to answer the call, smushing your face back into the pillow and closing your eyes again.

“H’llo?”

“Make it back to base okay, kiddo?” Price’s stern, gruff voice came through the speaker

“Mhm.” You mumble your response.

“Good. Sorry about MacTavish; drunken Scot can’t handle his alcohol…” Price sighs. “He’ll be dealt with in the morning.”

“s’okay.” You nod even though he can’t see it.

“You sure you’re alright then?”

“Mhm…”

Price exhaled a deep breath. “Get some shut eye. I'll be seeing you at 0530 sharp for PT."

"Yes sir. Love you."

You didn't fully realize that you told Price that you love him as if you were speaking to your dad.

Price was quiet for a second before his tone subtly shifted to sounding more gentle. "Love you too, kid. I'll see you at five-thirty."

You end the call and force yourself to sit up despite your still tipsy state. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything on your mind.

Well… with Ghost on your mind.

You call him next, not really expecting him to answer at all. He kind of doesn’t; there’s no voice on the other end, but you could tell he was there.

“Ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“So- Why… why didn’t you kiss me?” You stand up off of the bed and pace your room. More like stumble around your room.

“Can’t.”

“But why?” You groan. “Is it because of Price?”

“We work together.”

“So?” You find a hoodie and pull it on over your going out clothes. “That didn’t stop Soap.”

Silence.

“And I… I really wanted you to, y’know? And… I think I said ‘love you’ to Price. Y’think he’ll be mad at me?” You start kicking your heels off.

“…you told Price that you love him?”

You kind of giggle at that, hearing it back. “No, I didn’t tell him I love him. I just said ‘love you’ to him.”

You think you hear Ghost snort at that. “Are we done here?”

“Well, no…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to open your door.”

Ghost doesn’t speak. You look around the hall to make sure none of the guys would see you.

“Please?”

The call ends. Ghost slowly opens his door and peers at you from the small open space.

You look up at him, messy hair and mascara smudged under your eyes. Your hoodie covered most of your outfit and you were barefoot.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Can I come in?” You ignore his comment.

Ghost hesitates but he does step aside and let you into his room.

It was so dark in his room that you almost didn’t notice that he was maskless. Too bad you couldn’t see him better.

You didn’t really know what you planned on doing now that you were in his room… You honestly didn’t think he’d let you get this far.

Ghost’s hand touched your face. His thumb wiped under your eyes, attempting to fix your makeup.

The gesture was considerate though you knew he was just making the smudge bigger.

“I can’t kiss you.” Ghost repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was softer. More gentle.

You shook your head.

“We don’t have to kiss.”

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[miniwheat77]

Shakin’ (Ghost x Reader.)

!I aged Simon up a bit for this chapter. He’s around 44. Smut, unprotected p in v sex, (wrap it up-_-) military talk, teasing, you know the drill babes, absolutely NO MINORS, enjoy!

(Bc I bet Simon totally listened to Eddie Money when he was a teen XD. Obvi my song inspo is Shakin’ by Eddie Money.)

At this point, everything he did was routine. 141 had Simon busy most of the time so he didn’t spend too much time off base anymore. He had nothing better to do, the most exciting thing he did was stop by a bar with Johnny and Price. That was it. A round of new recruits were coming and this was always the hardest part, getting used to the newbies. Because some of them were insufferable. Ghost liked to be left alone. But the new recruits were always all over him. Trying to make friends and be nice and ask for advice which he didn’t mind, not at all. But sometimes he’d just want to be left alone.

For some reason, there weren’t many women on base. Aside from a couple that didn’t work out for… inappropriate reasons. There was no one but Laswell around.

“Ghost.” The scot accent pierces his ears and he turns to see Soap approaching with a girl by his side. “This is Y/N. She’s one of the new recruits.” He tilts his head to you. Ghost nods his head. “Hi.” You send a small wave his way. “Hey.” He says. “See, he doesn’t bite.” Soap laughs. “No, but I might.” You smile. Your sly smile pierces Simon right to his core, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. As you walked away with Johnny, he wondered what the hell that was.

He didn’t know it, but it was the start of something special.

You settle in pretty quickly and Ghost sees how well you and Johnny get along together. He sees the both of you together quite often. Ghost worried about him catching feelings for you, and having you turn out to be like every other girl that’s come onto this base. A barracks bunny.

His worries all came to an end when he watched you resist every guy on base. Seriously, they’ll hit on you while you’re sitting across from the both of them and you’ll have to spin around and tell them to piss off.

You’re usually eating, listening to something Soap is saying and someone will walk up behind you and start trying to flirt with you. He can see the immediate anger on your face, wanting to be left alone.

Something Ghost didn’t expect is the both of you to start spending time together. Without Johnny around. You were a productive soldier. Always offering to help, always busy doing something around the base. You hardly ever complained about something and when you did it’s usually because you hurt in some kind of way. Which he understood all too well. You always offered to help him with anything he was doing. Jumping right up when he was going to do some heavy lifting. So the two of you started hanging out and doing those things together like it was second nature. A routine. Ghost started catching feelings for you pretty quickly and he tried to avoid it.

Especially after he found out how young you were.

You followed him out to load up the Humvee, and you spoke about your parents. Something about the age of your mum made Simon perk up. “Wait. How old are you?” He asks. You smile. “Why you want to know?” You smirk. “Because it sounds like your mum is about the same age as me and that means you’re really young.” He freezes up. “Yeah, I’m 21.” His eyes widen. “Jesus Christ. You do not look that young. You’re really mature for your age.” He mumbles, tossing a box into the back of the Humvee. He hears you chuckle. “Yeah, I get that a lot. But.. age doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.” The slyness of your words have the hair on his neck standing up. “Yeah right, I’m old enough to be your dad.” He rolls his eyes.

You set a box down, only maybe a foot away from him. “Doesn’t scare me.” You smile. Stepping away from him. What exactly did you mean by that? Were you… flirting with him?

—

“Rosanna’s daddy had a car she loved to drive.” You mumble out the lyrics as you pass by Ghost. You don’t see him yet but he’s there. As soon as those lyrics hit his ears, he smiles. Reminding him of when he was a teenager, being crazy. Something he didn’t seem to think about too often anymore. “Stole the keys one night and took me for a ride.”

“Fuck.” You mutter as the box splits open, the contents of it falling out the bottom. Ghost steps out of the darkness. “What you singing there sweetheart?”

You jump when you hear him behind. “Jesus Christ.” You breathe. Tugging an earbud out of one of your ears. “Gave me a heart attack.” You laugh. Theres something inside of him brewing. Looking at you now, he knows there’s no going back.

He can only pray Johnny has no feelings for you, because there’s no going back. “Price told me to get you and check out some surrounding areas. Take the Humvee.” He nods. “Really?” You ask. He nods his head, lying through his teeth. What Price doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He could still hear your music through your earbuds.

“Turned up the music just as loud as it could go, blew out the speakers in her daddy’s radio. She was shakin’” he smiles. “Eddie Money ah?” He asks. Hearing you laugh.

“Of course.”

“Snappin her fingers, she was movin’ round and round. That girl was shakin’”

“Come on, let’s go.” He helps you put everything back into the box, telling you to worry about it later. When you get inside the Humvee, he snags one of the earbuds from you. Sliding it into his ear. He pulls out of the garage. He could get in so much trouble over this, but can’t remember the last time he’s done something this crazy. You haven’t done anything and you’ve already lit a fire inside of him.

“We started drinkin’ wasn’t thinking too straight. She was doing 80 and she slammed on the breaks. Got so high we had to pull to the side. We did some shakin’ til the middle of the night.”

He reaches his hand across the middle, resting it on your thigh. You tense up immediately, turning to look at him. “Ghost.. what are you doing?” You ask. His hand glides further up, and he hears you gasp. “Simon-“ you laugh.

“Shakin’, snappin’ her fingers. She was up and down and round and round. Shakin’”

“Cmere baby, sit in my lap.” He forces you over onto him, facing the steering wheel. You can feel his bulge against your ass. You twist around in his lap. Straddling him and keeping your face tucked into his neck so that he can see. He groans as you start attacking his neck. Sucking and biting at his skin. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. “Drive me fucking crazy.” He hisses.

“I got a little nervous. She took her coat off. She looked so pretty, ah yeah.”

He takes in a deep breath as you reach for his cargo pants. “Focus on the road. Don’t kill us.” You laugh. “Fuck- doing my best.” He laughs. You unzip his pants, tugging his cock through the hole in his boxers until you could see it. Taking a deep breath. You wiggle your own cargo pants down, off of one leg, freeing up your hips, you straddle him.

“I’m always talkin’ baby, talkin’ too much. I love that little girl and I just can’t get enough. It takes a lonely night with nowhere to go, just call Rosanna and it’s a hell of a show.

And she’s shakin’”

A hiss leaves his lips as he grips your hips with his rough hands. You swallow him up, sliding down onto him. He’s driving fast, way faster than he should. But he’s so fired up from you, he can’t help it. It’s fucking thrilling. Your skin is soft compared to his calloused hands. He grits his teeth, muscles tightening in his body as you slide down around him. Clutching onto him like a glove. The music is loud, nearly hurting your ears as you rock your hips into him. “Fuck- fucking hell you’re a minx.” Simon grits his teeth harder, gripping onto you and rocking his hips up to meet yours. He presses his foot into the gas harder, thanking whatever god is out there that this road is empty.

The pleasure is white hot, wrapping around the base of his spine and working its way up. You make him feel young again, like a crazy teenager. You attack his neck, you’re loud and you can’t help it as you ride him, raising yourself up onto him and moving back down. Riding him like your life depends on it. Chasing after that high. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, crying out. You gasp out when he slams onto the breaks, pulling over onto the side of the road. He forces you to look at him after he throws it into park. He grips your hips tightly, thrusting up into you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” He growls. He grasps the bottom of his balaclava, tugging it over his head. He grips your chin, pulling you in to kiss him. You’re whining as he fucks up into you.

The windows are starting to fog up, your bodies are sweaty as they move against each other. He feels hot, fully dressed. Feelings just how hot the two of you have made it in the car. The fat of your hips clutched hard between his massive hands. Making you feel small as he fills you up. You stare him in the eyes, keeping eye contact. You smile, making him narrow his eyes. “What?” He asks. “Do I intimidate you Simon?” You smile. He shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You seemed intimidated by me flirting with you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, rocking into him. He’s panting almost. “Just not used to it. Usually it’s the other way around. I’m supposed to intimidate you.” He laughs. Clutching onto the seat of the Humvee. “Fuck- you’re getting me close sweetheart.” He grits his teeth. “Me too.” You breathe, adjusting yourself one last time. He tilts his head back against the seat and you lean in, biting down on his throat, feeling his pulse against your tongue. His breaths pick up. He’s getting close, you can tell. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight. Thrusting up into you. “Fuck- fuck baby. I’m gonna cum.” He gasps. His eyes roll back and his lips part. He gasps, hips jerking up into you. Your eyes narrow shut, closing tight. That knot forming in your belly. The warmth of him sends you over the edge, crying out into the crook of his neck. He holds you tight to him like you’ll fall apart if he lets go.

Your thighs shake as he adjusts you in his lap. “You did so good.” He breathes. “Such a good girl for me.” He breathes. He hears you laugh into him. “Fuck. We’re gonna be in so much trouble when we get back.” You mumble against him. “Yeah, probably.”

“One more, make it worth our while?” He smirks. You glide your tongue over your bottom lip. “Let me restart the song.” You giggle.

[leosxrealm]

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ ꜰᴛ. ʀɪɴ ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ᴀɴᴅ ʜʏᴏᴍᴀ ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ

pairing(s): Rin Itoshi x reader, Hyoma Chigiri x reader

warning(s): fluff, jealous rin? jealous rin! nothing in chigiri’s part

a/n: i wrote this with male! reader in mind but no pronouns were used so it can be read as gn! reader. also tall! reader

Rin Itoshi

"Rinnnieee," you whined out his name, "i'm sorry Rinnie." all you heard from the boy in front of you was a scoff. "go away. your boyfriend must be missing you," he grumbled. you pouted at his words. during lunch, your seatmate had dragged you with him to finish the chemistry project that was due earlier today. he was a bit of a worrywart who wanted to make sure everything was perfect. anything low would not be tolerated. and now your actual boyfriend was being petty because he lost a whole 28 minutes with you. 28 minutes that you could have spent with him! it was honestly adorable seeing your boyfriend get jealous over some random dude from school. you would never admit that though; because you know that Rin wouldn't talk to you for a whole week after that or a month. yeah, your boyfriend was petty like that. and now on the walk home, he was walking ahead of you, ignoring your whole being. you tugged on the strap of his backpack, pulling him back. hugging him from behind, you pulled him as closer to you as possible. resting you head on top of his, you mumbled, "i'll make it up to you, yeah? how about we go to my house and watch your favorite movies? we can cuddle and then i'll make you ochazuke and you can stay the night? hm? how does that sound?" you asked, still nuzzling your face into his hair. he quickly looked around, before escaping from your grip. "okay okay. let's go already," he had already started walking towards your house, not even looking back to see if you were coming or not. you know your boyfriend hates pda, and normally you respect his wishes, but you couldn't just let him ignore you like that anymore. you deserve some attention too alright! he may not have stopped for you, but he didn't miss the happy "okay" you shouted before running up to catch up with him.

Hyoma Chigiri

it was friday, a day you both loved and (kinda) hated. it was your weekly skincare night, a concept your lovely boyfriend had introduced you to. you loved spending time with your boyfriend but you also thought doing thousands of things to keep your skin healthy was a hassle. you had never learned to take care of your body or your face like that. when Hyoma found out you washed your face with a bar of soap, he gave you the stinkiest side eye you had ever received. ever since then, he would force you to do skincare with him. you didn’t really think it was necessary; you were doing just fine before this, weren't you? but it quickly became something the two of you bonded over. you even found yourself looking forward to it. you were applying the green paste, with a weird smell, on Hyoma's face. he was perched up on the bathroom counter, with you standing in between his legs. after carefully applying the mask, making sure it didn’t go into his eyes or in his hair, you nodded at your work. you passed the container to Hyoma, for him to apply it to your face now. he scooped out a decent amount and started applying it to your face with his fingers, evenly smoothing it out. you started to lean into his hand, when he pulled your ear with his clean hand to make you stop leaning. "stand straight, will you?" he asked you with slight irritation in his voice. after a few seconds, he booped your nose softly, indicating that he had finished applying the mask to your face. you leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips, your green clay mask-covered noses bumping together. he pushed you away gently, "it's just there for 20 minutes, alright?" you looked up at him with a soft frown on your face. he just wanted to pinch your cheeks, you looked so adorable, with a bright baby blue headband pushing your hair back, and a green paste covering your face. "if you don't ruin the mask, i'll give you kisses as reward, okay?" he tried to bargain with you. you give a happy nod before hooking your hands under his thighs to lift him up. he instinctively wrapped his legs around your waist, as you carried him to the living room to re-watch your favorite series, closing the bathroom light on the way.

[no-one-anon]

So this is my second ever, and little fanfic? Blog? I think you know what I mean- So if it's really crap, don't come at me pls

SN: did this at 1 in the morning so ignore all grammar mistakes -

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Team force 141 + Valeria w/ reader who has lots of pillows on their bed. E.g. six, seven, eight - just A LOT.

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Simon Ghost Riley:

Ghost was injured. Very injured. So when you all landed back onto base you rushed into the base with Ghost leaning on your shoulder. You knew that your room was closer to where you both currently were, and that you also had a med kit somewhere in your room.

So, that made you rush in the direction of your room instead of the medbay. Now, ghost was disoriented. So disoriented that he didn't seem to know where he was being lead to. He had only noticed where we was when you had plopped him onto your bed. Right on-top of something squishy.

What he had landed on, was a soft pillow. Multiple pillows. They were quite soft, but there were so many. He would have to use two hands to count the amount of pillows.

When you had found the medkit in the corner of your room. You hurried back to where Ghost was sitting. He was bleeding out on your bed. On your pillows. Your abundance of pillows.

So, of course he had to ask about your mountain of pillows. While you were patching him up, of course. He asked you. "Why do you have so many pillows?" It was so sudden you had to take a moment. "Oh, uh. I just.. like them. They give me comfort and I just like them overall."

He just gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. But, expect to see a couple of pillows at your door every now and then.

John Soap Mactavish:

Soap woke up. In your bed. Yes, in your bed. The reason? He drank too much. Way too much. He was so drunk that you had to drag his body from the bar, all the way to base.

Now, his first thought was. Why is my bed so squishy? Obviously his question was immediately answered when he gained consciousness and opened his eyes. The sunlight was attacking him from behind the thin curtains. Soap tried to stop the attack from the sun, but it was no use.

He was already awake and awoke in a room he doesn't know of. He shot up, a wave of nausea hitting him like how the sun had done not long ago.

"Where the hell am I? What the fuck...." Soap groaned. He didn't drink that much....... Did he?- The door opened, quietly. Moving his attention from the wall to the opening door.

He saw, you. Holding a glass of water and a pill bottle. "Oh, I hope I didn't wake you up." You softly spoke. "You didn't, where are we?" Soap asked curiously.

"My room, you were too drunk to be dragged to your own room." Oh. Well, made sense. He did drink a bit too much.... "Why do you uh.. have so many pillows here?" Picking one up Soap asked.

You replied, snatching a pillow from the bed. "Oh! They bring me joy, I like them. Some as presents form my family and friends, some I just bought that were soft or cute."

"This one's cute." Soap says while picking up a small brown dog. "Oh, you can keep it if you'd like, I have too many. Plus, I don't think anyone gave me it, must've been one that I bought a bit ago."

"Sweet! Thanks!" He was quite happy, even thought he had a throbbing headache. At least his hangover wasn't so bad now that he has a soft and squishy buddy with him.

Captain John Price:

John was checking up on everyone late at night after a mission. As some people were injured severely on the mission. So, when he made it to your room. He noticed that there was light peeling out from underneath your door. You know what happened to that cat about curiousity.

So, John bit the bullet and opened the door quietly. Only to find you on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish. Your hair was everywhere. All over the pillow where you head was resting on, and on your face. You were lightly snoring and you had left your bedside lamp on. With the way you were positioned on the bed, your pillows were bunching up and creating small hills.

You looked like you were having the best sleep of your entire life. Sleeping away without a worry about the world and its problems. But, of course. Not all good things last forever. He had to wake you up. You had to change into your pajamas. Price would never forgive you and himself if you slept in your gear.

So, he shook you awake. Lightly, of course. "Hey, you gotta get up." Your response was just a groan and turning to your side.... Back facing him... Price sighed.

"Hey, wakey wakey. You gotta get changed.." This earned another groan from you and you sitting up. "Why'd you wake me up...." You whined.

"You gotta get changed, and why do you have so many pillows?" Price chuckled seeing as you were slightly cuddling a cute cat pillow. You groaned and yawned. Taking your time to answer his question. "I like pillows, they're cute and comfy. Don't you agree?" Holding up a pillow to his face.

Price chuckled. "Yeah yeah, kid. Time to get changed." You groaned once again.

Kyle Gaz Garrick:

You and gaz decided to have a movie night. In your room. So, when he arrived with the snacks. He laid down on your floor and started watching the movie. Paying no attention to anything else but the movie. It was one of his favorite movies after all.

When the movied had ended, Gaz was very sleepy. So sleepy, that he decided he was going to sleep on your bed. In your room. Even though his room was only 3 rooms over. But, oh well. It's late, you're both tired. Why not? Plus, nothing bad would happen.

Yeah. Nothing bad did happen. Except, something embarrassing did. You didn't have the time to put away all your pillows, since you didn't know that Gaz was going to be sleeping in your room. In your bed. So, when he walked over to your bed. All he saw was pillows. A mountain of pillows. On what should be your bed.

"Hey... Uh... Why are there so many pillows here?" Gaz started. "Oh, uh. Yeah.. that's my uh, collection of pillows." You replied. Nervous on how he would react.

"Oh, cool. Which one is your favourite?" Gaz questioned. "Oh, uh. This one is one of my favourites." You replied, holding up a small dog pillow.

"Cute, but why are there so many?..." You hadn't really noticed about how much you had, but now that you were looking at.. Your bed? "Well.. I admit I have a bit too much, but I like all of them."

How embarrassing.... "I'm too tired to deal with this." Gaz needed his beauty sleep. He'd deal with you and your obsession on the morning. Right now, he just wants to catch some z's.

Alejandro Vargas:

Alejandro looked for you all over base. He was bored and needed something to do. You weren't in the dining hall, nor in the medbay. So, he went to your room in hopes to find you.

When he reached your room, he could hear some humming from inside. Alejandro knocked and could hear a muffled 'Come in!' from the other side of the door. He opened the door to see you sitting next to your bed and cuddling a pillow while reading a book whilst some music played in the background.

He noticed that, around you. On the bed, and the ground. Was littered with pillows. All different shapes, sizes, colors, etc. How could someone have so many pillows? Jesus Christ. You had an obsession with so many things. He heard you humming along with the song, not even paying attention to who had opened the door and entered the room.

Alejandro decided to break the silence. "Hey. What are you doing?" All you did was look up from your book and respond with a simple sentence. "Reading, why?" Jesus Christ, you looked totally unfased with how many pillows there were.

"Why do you have so many goddamn pillows?" Alejandro asked. Oh.. You hadn't realized that all of your pillows were laid out on the bed and some had fell onto the floor. "Well, I like them. Some of them were gifts from some people, and some that I had just found." You said, as you grabbed another pillow that had fallen to the floor.

Alejandro hesitated for a moment. "Alright.... Well, would you like to hang out with me?" Well, it would be good for you to go out and stretch your legs rather than sitting on the floor and reading by yourself. "Sure, I don't see why not." You replied while getting up and brushing the non-existent dust from your knees.

Valeria Garza:

Valeria was walking by your room when she noticed you lounging about on your bed. You were cuddling a pillow and the rest of your pillows were surrounding you. There was at least ten. They were colorful, and looked soft. What were you even doing with this amount of pillows?

"What the hell? What are you doing?" Valeria said as she leaned on the door frame. "Huh? Me? Oh, I'm just reading, why?" You were confused on why Valeria was asking you.

"Well, you have so many of these pillows here. Why do you have so many? Did you steal these?" Valeria asked. "I like pillows, they bring me joy, and no. I did not steal these. Some of these are gifts that my friends and family gave me." You huffed out.

Well, you had to admit. You did have a bit more than what an average person would have... But, you couldn't throw out any of them! They were apart of you, and you loved every single one of them. You didn't know why Valeria had such a problem with your obsession with pillows. Was she jealous of them or something?

"Are you jealous of the pillows, or something?" To be sure you asked, duh. "No. I would never be jealous of an inanimate object. That's just stupid!" Well, Valeria was a bit too quick to shut that down..... Ah, oh well.

"But, do you like them? A lot?" Ah, she definitely was jealous of them. Well.. Maybe?- "Yes, I do like them. Quite a lot. If you don't like them you can just leave." You huffed out.

So, with that. Valeria left your room. But, expect to see some pillows to appear on your bed when you go out of your room to go shopping or what not. Or expect a knock on your door, and seeing a pillow on the floor when you open the door. Maybe also seeing Valeria speed walk around the corner.

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

Wordcount: 5,9k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for full series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Panic attack, Alcohol

Description: Simon takes you to the doctor in the morning, while Soap takes you to a bar in the evening.

A/N: My wrist is starting to flare up again, this shit is so hard to manage, ugh :( but I finally got the chapter finished. Almost ten chapters, I'm rather impressed with myself how far I've gotten already. My usual friend who reads through my stuff was unfortunately unavailable this time around, so I hope it's not too bad. Hope you all enjoyed <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The sterile smell of the medical office is enough to make you want to collapse into a ball of an overstimulated mess. You felt guarded the second Simon had dragged you out of the house this morning, and here at the clinic it was no different.

The office itself is cosier than you'd thought it to be, there hadn't been a lot in the waiting room, and even the receptionist was exceedingly nice. And still, you couldn't find it in your heart to be as nice back to her. Your tone earned you a glare from Simon, but the man wasn’t one to talk, he hated trips like these as much as you.

"There we go...you're all good, let me just go finalize your file, and you'll be good to go," the doctor smiles at you. He'd been nothing but gentle and caring ever since you entered his office. Not that he had much of a choice with the imposing figure that was Simon, and your own death glares sent his way.

He rises from his chair and leaves the two of you alone in the medical office.

You slide your legs off the medical table, getting back up into a sitting position so you could shrug your pant leg back down. As you had suspected, you really hadn't needed to go here, but Price's insistence was something you couldn't get around.

As long as you took it easy, didn't do too much running, then it'd heal just fine with no extra help.

"I don't like him," you mumble to Simon when he hands you, your boots.

"You don't like any doctors" he grumbles right back at you.

You give him a glare that he remains unfazed to. "Am I wrong?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing look on his face that made something inside your heart twitch.

He was wearing a black surgical mask; one Soap had shoved in his hand before he left the house. Price kept on insisting that he not be an idiot, and actually try to blend in a bit more. There hadn't been much protest from him, but he did seem more tense without the usual skull mask covering his features.

It was easier to hide behind a mask. To not let people see any humanity in you when you take them down. Every cruel act would be confined to the mask, it would a separation of who you truly are.

They had tried to force a mask upon you, create an identity they could shape and mould. They had failed with the mask, so they took something much more personal from you.

His mask was a choice.

Yours hadn't been.

Carved with tooth and nail, wooden and strong, it had been strapped to your face. Only a knife could cut it away the meaning it held even after you put it to rest. You could almost imagine it, the flesh peeling down from your face as you try to cut away the sins beneath. You could cut all you wanted; no amount of blood would wash you clean.

It would be so easy too.

The doctor had so many tools in here, each and every one could be used if you knew how, and you did.

Cut cut cut

Wash away the sins

"Spider?"

Ignore him

Your attention is brought back to him. It still feels foreign, that nickname on his lips so easily, as if he'd never stopped. It sounded different, with his voice being deeper, more brute. 

He always kept his voice a tad quieter when he addressed you, compared to how he addressed someone such as Gaz. It was different, yet still lacked the warmth he held for Soap.

You try to see past the cover of his face, but it all remains hidden to you. Even with the smaller mask. You should be able to see his face, the smooth skin beneath, his locks of hair. Instead, it's all covered in black shadows, creating a terrifying display of limbs and mass.

He reaches for you again, a steady hand to support you down from the table. You flinch away.

He tucks his hand back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A defensive manner you'd say, but there are more layers to it. He lets out a deep-rooted sigh and turns away from you, picking up the backpack he'd brought.

Essentials, Price had said when he shoved it into his arms.

Essentials for what you can't quite imagine, you weren't planning on being out long. Simon unzips the bag, placing it on the table next to you to rummage through it. He picks out a wrapped sandwich, shoves it into your hands so you have no choice but to take it. He gives you a pointed look.

"You didn't eat breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry," you protest, but by the growl of your stomach, you aren't given much choice than to accept it. He keeps staring at you, and you realize a little late that he intends for you to eat it now. With a huff, you open it up and take a bite. It's actually not too bad.

The doctor comes back in soon after, forcing your muscles to tense up once more. He gives you a few painkillers, on the house he says, despite how you protest to it. Simon takes the bag for you, probably to make sure you actually kept eating your meal.

"Bloody hell...cold is starting to get annoying," Simon grumbles when the two of you exit the clinic.

"At least this place actually gets snow...most places I've been to recently have just been cold and wet...no snow," you tell him quietly while looking over at a young family of four going further down the street, probably on their way to the market.

"If we're lucky we'll have a white Christmas here too" Simon says in the same grumpy tone. He didn't seem all that excited about it. Maybe he'd rather be at home, and not out here. You'd understand that, not that you had anything to look forward to yourself.

"Lucky?" you raise a brow he doesn't get to see, your attention still darting between the people walking by and in and out of stores.

"Gotta look for the positives Spider..."

Simon gains your attention back with a wave of his hand, he gestures towards the store just opposite of the clinic.

"We should pop in before we head back...need a couple of things for dinner," He starts walking without much of a confirmation, forcing you to pick up the pace to keep up.

"Didn't Soap say he had a surprise for dinner?"

He lets out a rumble of a chuckle and shakes his head, "Yeah but something tells me it's not going to include a lot of actual dinner"

Soap has an eager smile when he leads the flock of you to his most recent discovery. He'd insisted the lot of you needed even a moments' relaxation, to do an honoured tradition within the group. It had been in your suspicions, but somehow you still find yourself slightly disappointed that it's just a bar.

"Beautiful corner piece of the town...or well...that is what ah was told," he takes the step down to the dark wood door. He opens it paying no mind to it's creaking in complaint; quiet music lures the lot of you closer to the dim lighted bar. He gestures with his head towards you, beckoning you inside.

You step forward with your question as you descend behind him, "are you sure this is really a good idea-"

An abrupt hand grabs your arm and saves you what could've been a nasty trip down the extra two stairs that comes after the door. "Easy! Watch your step," Soap chuckles, quickly letting go of your arm when you find your footing and take the last steps fully into the bar.

The rest follow close behind, some more eager than others at the prospect of a drink and some downtime without the stress. Someone answers your question, but you don't hear it. You're too busy looking at where Soap's touch had been, as if you expect burn marks to suddenly appear.

Three of the men walk past you, not minding your little stop in the middle of everything. They go to find a table in the back, taking in the rest of the bar. It's small and quaint, not room for many, but not a lot seems to even frequent this place.

You feel Simon's looming presence behind you. He's refusing to move past you, intent on not letting you be the last, for whatever reason.

You follow after the others. No need to hog the space and attract more attention than you undoubtedly already do.

The booth they've found sits up against the wall, close enough to the bar but also in the lower light of the back. Price and Gaz have taken a seat inward, Soap takes a seat at the edge next to Gaz and Simon next to Price.

You stop for a moment, contemplate where to squeeze yourself in. Soap moves further in and makes space for you next to him. You sit down with little other choice, but quietly appreciative of not sitting in-between the burly men. There was space to make a quick exit should you ever need it.

Simon's eyes meet yours briefly before you rip them away, putting your attention to Gaz and Soap who are already collecting the group's orders to go get them all some drinks.

"And what about you, Spider?" Gaz asks, an excited smile on his lips; he has a pretty glint in his eyes.

Of course. Alcohol.

When was the last time you drank any? Hard to say.

"Uh...yeah, whatever you're having," your mind is only been half there since the morning. Your thoughts occupied, as they often are. You survey the area, looking for the familiar faces, but your own mind sabotages your attempts.

The shadows are persistent.

You could only hope that the alcohol would silence them, even if only somewhat.

This was going to be an interesting night, that was for sure.

He set off enough time. A proper goodbye.

It's time to go. Simon knows it's time, the only way out of here is waiting for him, yet he can't get himself to move. The suns coming down, and you're still not here. He looks at his watch, the ticker going at a steady rate. It couldn't be his timing that was wrong. Despite your usual punctuality, you're late. 5 minutes he can handle, 10 even, but you're still not here and it's been 20 minutes.

And you were missing it.

Maybe you were still angry with him. Still too huddled up in your own thoughts of childish betrayal. He understood why you were upset, but he didn't understand why you were so hell-bent on resenting him for it.

He was getting his way out; you should be happy, right? It's what the both of you have been wanting for years. Since you were little kids and barely even knew each other. It was his only way out; he wasn't going to pass on it to keep you comfortable.

He would come back. He'd swear it to you, to any god that's never answered his prayers. He'll come back for you, to take you with him. When he's got enough money, a place of his own and a secure way out. He'll come save you.

He'll promise it as many times as he needs to, until you believe him, until you have enough reassurance to wait just a little longer.

But he can't wait for you forever.

He lets out a sigh, tugging his coat closer around himself. It's getting colder, the night air can be relentless.

"Where are you, spider..."

The graveyard looks lonely without you. It's hard to believe this is the place you've spent so many years, a morbid refuge only the two of you truly know. He could walk around blindfolded here if he had to, one time you even made him for a fun game. Perhaps it wasn't the most respectful thing for the dead, but you two kept them company in their cold, dark graves.

You'd all end up in the ground eventually, some sooner than others.

He had to go.

If you wouldn't come to him, he'd come to you.

He'd walked the way to your place countless times. Had sneaked around just the way you showed him. A rule the two of you had whenever you didn't come, typically you'd gotten grounded, because you never missed your hangouts, never. You showed him just where to step to not be seen, just where to hit the window to your bedroom to get it loose. A faulty lock that never got replaced.

He used his own precision to crawl into your room with as little noise as possible. A skill he hoped to refine when he got his place in the military.

He did it like clockwork, crawled inside like it was nothing.

But you weren't in your room, either.

It's not often Simon allows tears to rise to his eyes these days, but this hurt. It really fucking hurt. He was going to miss you way more than you knew, and you didn't even seem to care. Where the hell were you.

There had never been a whole lot to look at in your room. It was pretty bare-bones, always neat and clean because there were consequences if it wasn't. Too white and bare for his own taste as well. He might not be much better in decorating, but your room still seemed to be overkill in the amount of nothing it exuded.

Simon sat down on your bed, wincing at the creaking springs. He could only hope your absence meant that of your families as well. They'd never quite taken much of a liking to him, something about his lack of faith, something about his lack of showing it, or just about the family he came from. The reasoning never stayed the same for long.

"Oh, spider...what am I going to do with you..." he runs a hand over his face, following an exhausted huff.

He couldn't ignore it any longer. The time ticked on, and he didn't have forever. He didn't time, he never had enough time.

In a last effort to contact you, he grabs a page of your notebook, scribbling down a parting message for you. Hopefully you'd find it, hopefully you wouldn't hate him or blame him for how this is turning out. He tried.

He places it on top of your pillow, staring at it longer than he should. He knows he should get a move on, that the world won't wait for him, but part of him can't get himself to move. He still hopes you'll walk through the door any moment now. That you can get some time together, even if it's just a few seconds so he can kiss your lips and apologize a million times over.

The sound of the opening door makes his heart skip a beat; he turns around with a haste he didn't have before. He's disappointed to see it isn't you, only to be panicked at the knowledge that it really isn't you.

Simon is frozen in place, looking at the unfamiliar adult before him. He's got a piercing gaze, there's no question in his eyes, as if he already knows who and why Simon is here.

Simon's eyes dart up to the man's hair, something unnatural about the blonde colour, too bright and too slicked back to give off any comforting vibes.

"They're not here," his voice is icy cold, stating the obvious.

"I know-"

"You should leave, they don't need you here."

Simon's brow furrows at his words, taking offence to the near insult thrown his way. Who the hell even was this guy, and why did he care that much. One look at the time, and he reminds himself that it's not a fight he has the time for, not even to question the man.

"Yeah...whatever... I'm leaving...tell them I'm sorry I missed them," he walks towards the door, intent on leaving on more conventional means than he came in. He stops In front of the man, only now really realizing how big he was compared to Simon himself.

"Excuse me," he tries to walk past, but only receives another glare from him.

The message doesn't need to be spoken aloud for Simon to get it, but it doesn't make him any more happy about it. "Bloody hell, man, are you serious," he complains and crosses his arms.

"Get out."

The air has a crisp sense of the oncoming dark winter. Hell, it was practically in the middle of winter already by all the damned snow that just kept falling everywhere. It made for pretty scenery but came along with a cold Simon wasn't a fan of.

Still, it wouldn't keep him from ruminating by himself, smoke in hand, as he took time away from the stuffy atmosphere the bar started to adopt.

Unfortunately, Simon has a habit of stewing on old memories when he's left to his own devices. Typically, he goes over things in his past, painful memories like the good ones. Of his younger days in the military, of when he met Price, of how he became ghost, newer additions being his early relationship with Johnny and how it's evolved.

He finds it gives him a sense of peace to ruminate over his choices, whether good or bad. To analyse situations and prepare for similar ones, no matter the circumstance or person. Though ever since being shipped out here, his thoughts seem to only ever be on who his spider used to be.

Trying to piece together the puzzle of your mind and figure out how you became so. It's one of the greater puzzles of the universe. At least to him.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs one final time as his thoughts come to a close over the last memory. How he left you behind. Not a fond memory, and even then, his mind is a muddy walk to go through.

He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, lets the smoke run its course. There's not much left of it, and it was his last light. He'd be damned if he didn't savour it. He could likely bait Price into buying some more for him when he makes his own run to town for more cigars. If they even have any. The captain did have a particular taste, as much in people as his smoking habits.

This place hadn't been much help when it came to gathering intel. He was getting restless in the lack of progress. He knew it to be a delicate process, but normally he'd been able to probe somebody about something by now. He'd have a goal to focus on, instead he's left to wondering about too many things.

The only thing that was keeping him in somewhat of an amenable mood this evening was the towns’ ability to provide a decent drink.

If he was being fair to his own faults, he'd even allow himself to acknowledge how nice it was to be out with the entire team again, with you again. He'd been surprised to see you eager enough for a drink, finishing it off even faster than Johnny or Gaz.

It was nice to see you comfortable, to see you smile. Even if the alcohol likely had a part in getting you to be more open to them. You got a lot more daring, that was for sure, a lot more talkative. Not many of your stories made much sense, changing course and directive half-way through, but you did speak rather fondly of the old team you'd been with a few years ago.

Even if he hadn't been in on your life in a long time, he was glad you'd found comfort in others when he wasn't there to provide it. Even if you had changed, deep down you still kept the same quirks from when you were young, though of course more muted.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs along with a deep sigh. He wanted to get closer to you, but it felt like an impossible prospect. He didn't understand how Johnny made it look so easy, he could be at the ends of the earth, and he'd still make friends wherever that would be.

His attention is lured back to the door at the sound of the little bell ringing above it.

He watches as you come stumbling out of the little bar, almost tripping over your own feet as you take the three steps up. He raises a brow at your form, you definitely hadn't looked that drunk when he was in there. What the hell did you drink.

"You alright there, Spider?"

You garble out some nonsense before coming to stand beside him, leaning all of your weight back on the wall behind you. "Yeah...M'fine..." you said in the most unconvincing voice he's ever heard. He keeps his eyes on you, surveying your expressions. He wasn't about to let you barf all over him.

"You know... I wish I'd found you a bit earlier...you're all so nice..." you let out a little huff as if you'd been running for a while. You let out a quiet giggle, something he truly doesn't think he's ever heard you do, at least not like that.

"Yeah... It's good to have you back, Spider..." he almost allows himself to spout out how much he's missed you. It hangs in the back of his throat, right along with his emotions. It's not the time. He doubts you'll even remember this conversation in the morning. But maybe that was all the more reason to do it.

"Why did you even join up, spider?"

You don't answer at first, and he thinks that maybe you've already clocked out mentally for the night. Your head turns to look at him, something unreadable in your expression. "You never came back..." you sound sad, small in your voice.

His brows furrow, his mouth slightly open before he snaps back to reality and takes another puff of his cigarette. He realizes this is probably the first time you've seen this much of his face without the mask. He'd been lucky enough that it was late and not many around to stare at his ugly mug...but you.

He feels out of place under your gaze, an odd need to crawl away and hide in the darkest corner he can find. It's a foreign feeling with you.

"Figured I needed to do something with my life, and it's not like I had many other opportunities waiting for me back home," you turn your head away once again. For a moment, you sound completely sober, the conversation doing more for you than any amount of cold air ever could.

Then again, the more you seem to stand there, the more your grimace widens. In a swift motion, you push yourself away from the wall, putting your weight back onto your unsteady feet. You push past him, to the edge of the building, the little alley gap in-between.

"Hey where are you going!" he shouts out confused. You turn the corner of the building, disappearing into the darkness. His brows furrowed as he took another puff of his cigarette, hoping you'd emerge shortly after. Maybe you just needed to walk it off?

When he hears the horrid sound of your retching, he knew he was wrong.

"Oh, bloody hell," he throws his cigarette to the ground, crushing it against the pavement before hurrying over to turn the same corner. Surely enough, there you are. Bucked over and barfing up your insides, which seems to be more stomach acid and alcohol than any food.

His movements are as gentle as he can make them, not keen on having you flinch away from help when you're like this. He places his hand on your back, the other supporting your shoulder so you don't fall over. You don't seem to react at all.

"Steaming Jesus, ah was wondering where ye ran off to."

Simon turns his head, seeing Johnny come closer to the two of them. "How much did they drink..." Simon grumbles in a worried tone. When you seem finish puking, he helps you back up, steadier on your feet this time. With a groan, you lean back against the wall behind you.

"Ffffuck..."

"Didn't think ye drank that much...don't hold ye alcohol too well," Johnny gives you a cheeky grin.

You tip your head forward, losing your balance like a newborn foal. Simon is quick to act, gently cupping your cheek to hold up your head, so you don't hurt yourself. "You need to get back to the house and sleep this off..." he didn't think your tolerance would be this shit, but he doesn't recall you ever having much of a tolerance to begin with.

"Help me with them, will ya" Simon moves your arm, helping you use him as support. Johnny takes your other side, helping you lean on them both before they embark on the way back. They help you stumble back out of the alley, where they're met with the questioning stare of Kyle.

He lets out a low chuckle at the sight, "time to go, then?"

  

He'd found it amusing then, more frustrating now. "Spider- no- do not-" he puts a firm hand on your waist so you don't trip over your own legs down out of the car. You lean all your weight on him, and he has to do a mental double take to not keel over right along with you.

Getting you inside is a struggle and a half. Simon isn't sure where your little spouts of energy are coming from, but they surge through you at a random pace. You're almost worse than when you had just gotten freshly drunk in the bar itself.

"No, no... we need to.... ffgh-" you try to tell him something, but he doesn't have half a mind to listen when he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. You refused to wear a jacket, and he will not have you freezing out here without you even realizing it.

Johnny comes up next to him, helps walk you inside, despite your little protests and seeming urgency to be somewhere else. "C'mon, let's get ye inside" he hooks an arm around yours and together the two of them manage to get you in.

The way to the bedroom is just as annoying and long as it was to get you to the car and back home in the first place. And then as the three of you reach the door, Price calls Johnny away intending on talking to him about something important, leaving Simon to bring you in and into your bed.

"There we go," Simon huffs as he gets you to lean on him again so he can close the door with a click. He tries to walk you in the right direction, but fails to steer you towards your own bed, charting a course for the one he and Johnny shared instead.

It didn't matter too much for one night, the three of you could switch if needed.

"C'mon love onto...the...bed," he manages to walk you backwards until the back of your knees meet with the bed and makes you fall down on to it with a huff. You mumble something incoherent again, writhing a little bit until you seem to deflate on the mattress.

Simon lets out a deep huff, standing back up to look at your dishevelled form. He'd dealt with Johnny drunk enough times by now, but at least he wasn't trying to run in ten different directions as if you were either late to something or running for your life.

Seeing as you'd clearly be incapable of taking care of yourself before you fell asleep, he might as well get to it. "Okay Spider...let's get you ready for bed," he mumbles and crouches down to take off your shoes, one and then the other.

"Mh...no..." you writhe a little bit.

"It's alright...you can sleep in a minute," Simon assures you, but he's not entirely sure if you even hear him. He walks over to your closet, rummaging through for something else to wear. He's stunned by how little you have, it's barely a hunt for it, it's right there within eye height.

He brings the other set of clothes over to your bed, not paying too much attention to your mumbling. He leans back again, running a hand over his face. How exactly was he supposed to do this. He doubted that you would change clothes if he asked you.

"M'sorry love but...well...you gotta," he lets his words trail out realizing you were definitely not listening to any words of assurance he was trying to give you.

Just gotta get it over with, and quick, you were starting to rile up again, and he wasn't about to go chasing after you again if you got another sprout of energy.

He leans over you and unbuttons your pants, but he hesitates as he pulls down your zip. Something in him feels awkward, and he switches his course of direction to your shirt instead. His hands gently reach for the edge of the white fabric.

"No-....m'not......can't....ready...."

His hands take a hold of it and with just as gentle movements he starts to pull it up your torso.

"No- NO! Father, please! Not again-"

He lets go like he's been burned. His eyes wide as he takes a firm step away from you in pure shock. His own heart pounds, his mind reeling to understand what just happened. You clutch your shirt around your abdomen, your body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Your body scrambles to lay further away from him on the bed.

His own hands shake, the worst-case scenarios running wild in his mind of all the possible ways he could've just hurt you.

And still, he doesn't understand your reaction.

"Spider..." he says quietly, carefully. You don't respond to it, so he calls your name even softer.

Your breathing is too rabid for his liking, but he doesn't want to risk touching you again. He doubts you'd react positively to it, and he knows that feeling.

At first, he's at a loss at what to do, how to make you calm down, but he realizes it's really so painfully simple. There's nothing much he can do, but he can do what he had wished someone had done for him way back.

Careful to not collide with your shaking form, he lays down beside you. You instinctively roll onto your side and curl up even further, but you don't turn away, so he takes it as a good sign. Your eyes are shut tight, and your body still trembling just as bad as before.

"I'm here..." he whispers quietly, without knowing if you can even hear him. He extends his hand between the two of you, he doesn't touch you, but it's there whenever you're ready. He doesn't know how long the two of you stay like that, and whatever Price needed Johnny for, he's glad it's taken longer than expected.

He doesn't move, almost doesn't dare breathe any more than necessary as he keeps his eyes on your form. His little praises and words of encouragement doesn't seem to do much, but his heart feels desperate.

Simon takes notice of every little movement, of every twitch and hitch in your breath when you slowly open your eyes to meet his. They're glassy, tears threatening to spill over, but they never fully come.

His hand grabs unto the sheets beneath to not reach out and touch your cheek, to be ready to wipe away any tears that may fall.

"M'sorry..." your apology is quiet and raspy, and for a moment it feels like you're still just the scared kids from back home, trying to survive in a world that's not built for them.

"It's just I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself..." he cuts you off sharply. He doesn't know if it was the right call from the deflated look on your face. You nod, biting your lip softly.

"Simon..." your voice is soft and searching. Your shaking hand bumps into his, and he takes it in his, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"It's okay..."

"Please don't go."

"I won't."

His answer is firm, it's the truth, and he would swear it to you if you asked. He's not going to leave. Not again. Never again. He's here to stay whether you push him away or not, he's here by your side, watching. Always.

He makes a decision on a whim without forethought. Simon's arm hooking around your waist and pulling you closer until he can envelop his arms around you and keep you close to his chest. You tense at first, before you relax in his hold, resign your drunken state to him in favour of falling asleep in the arms of the only person who's ever truly made you feel safe.

"M'not going anywhere, Spider..."

Simon doesn't dare move as you lay your head to his chest, and feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. He doesn't dare move when he hears your breathing even out. He especially doesn't dare move when he can feel your body go lax, and sleep take over you.

The door to the room opens with a quiet creak, and Johnny's footsteps comes closer to the bed. "Mh ah see ye got a head start then..." Johnny's smirk is too wide on his lip, and Simon could easily wipe it off if he wasn't holding something more important at that moment.

"Should ah be offended? Jealous even?" Johnny is merely teasing, but it still elicits a groan from Simon.

"Get in here, dumbass."

Johnny lets out a quiet chuckle, looking down at him with a fond smile. "Let me just...scoot in here..." he crawls unto the bed, struggling to make room for himself, but with a bit of adjusting to your sleeping form, Simon manages to make space for him.

"Are you done wiggling around trying to wake them?" Simon mumbles with a thick layer of sarcasm.

"Ah am not trying to-"

"Ssh!"

Johnny settles in, unashamedly cuddling up to your sleeping form and peeking at Simon over your head. "Goodnight, grump" Johnny whispers quietly, reaching over you to squeeze his arm. He lets out a quiet sigh, letting his own body relax down into the mattress.

"Goodnight, Johnny" Simon murmurs, watching Johnny ever so slowly join you in the realm of dreams.

As he lay there with two of arguably the most impactful people he's ever met, he can't help but feel a sense of warmth within him. Not a physical warmth, but a warmth that blooms in his heart. It's unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. The thoughts that occur with them are dangerous, unsure, things he'll undoubtedly have to entertain when the sun rises again.

But for now, he's content with holding his unknowing world in his arms, and let the warmth lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @kaoyamamegami @lilynotdilly @chickennn-soupp @spicyspicyliving @ellabellabunny123 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @haipasa

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 4

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

You woke up still tired in the transport, still leaning on Ghost. He hadn’t moved since you landed on him, what a sweetheart. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as your gut was telling you.

You sat up yawning, looking around and noting that the drivers had swapped sides and Soap was still dead asleep— now lying in your lap. You didn’t bother to shove him off like you normally would have, being too tired to care.

“Five hours.” Ghost mumbled next to you, opening his eyes as daylight shone into the window next to him. “You slept for five hours, on the worst roads we could be driving on, after eating both of our energy bars.”

You grumbled, leaning back against him scooting a bit closer to be more comfortable. “Aye, greedy gal, isn’t she?” Soap chimed in, catching himself just before his head fell off the seat. Instead of sitting up, he also scooted closer, still using your lap as a pillow. “Now I’m gettin’ peckish and don’t get nothing to eat. Gonna have to scrounge on the floor before long.” This made Ghost chuckle, shaking you.

“Oh be quiet, both of you. I have spares in my pack, you can have those.” You grumbled, swatting both of their chests. “Not that you’d want to, they're probably as crumbly as a nature valley bar by now. Considering how much I got thrown around tonight.” You said, making Soap snicker at the minor innuendo you’d made— and earning another quick swat.

“Soap threw you around. I was nice about carryin’ you. Should be thankful I didn't toss you to the wolves.” Ghost said, a bit smugly.

“Not that you could, Price would bite your head off if he found out either of you willingly watched me get hurt.” You stated smugly. “I am only here “temporarily”, after all. He’d hate to lose a soldier that wasn't his in the first place.”

“You think he doesn’t think of you as part of the team?” Soap asked, “Lass, the second you set foot on a base with him, you were part of the team, no ifs ands or buts about it. He’ll care for you like he does the rest of us.” He yawned, laying back down without a word.

“Do you know how long until we hit base?” You asked, looking up at Ghost, who was in the process of removing the plastic mask from his face.

“Few hours. You should finish resting.” He said, strapping it to his thigh holster, then leaning back. “I’ll probably join you and Soap here in a bit.” You could hear the yawn brewing in his voice. Poor man was tired.

~

Sleep talkers— the both of them! They had both talked the entire time they slept! Johnny kept going on and on about his sisters and kelpies, how they “was gonna take ‘em and never see him again” and Ghost was just mumbling loudly to himself, talking about yard work and food and he kept saying “sorry”. That last one made you feel like bad for being upset with his sleep-talking— but it was really annoying. By the time you fell asleep, you only got about an hours worth!

The transport came to a harsh stop, jolting you awake as the door swung open. The late-morning sun blinded you as you opened your bleary eyes, only to see Price— who seemed glad to see you, but less than happy with your performance. However, his upset was subsided temporarily by the sight of the three of you piled on each other, mostly asleep. It made him chuckle a little and turn to call Gaz over, who burst into a fit of laughter. This woke up Soap and Ghost, who got embarrassed and annoyed respectively.

“Be quiet.” Ghost grumbled at Gaz, gently pushing your head off his shoulder and getting out, leaving you barely enough time to catch yourself as you started to topple over in the seat. He walked past Price sluggishly, shuddering as he stretched lazily. “Let's finish all this so I can go to bed.”

“Agreed.” Soap said, waiting for you to jump out. When you did, he followed suit and shoulder-checked Gaz. You only mumbled and tried to stand up straight as you followed the other two.

~~

You watched what little movement you could on base from your vantage point in an empty watchtower tonight, listening to music from days long since past. It was your birthday, and since you hadn’t been with the task force very long, you’d assumed they wouldn’t care to celebrate. You usually ended up drinking yourself into a puddle of tears and anger on your birthday, but Price tried to discourage drinking the pain away so you’d try to make him proud. You’d decided to take the night slow and quiet, instead of spending your wallet at the bar.

Sighing, you laid back on the cold metal grate of the platform, staring up at the stars. Memories stirred but didn’t surface, making tears well but not spill over.

“Rough night?” A low, rough voice asked you. You rolled your head to look at the source, seeing Ghost. He wore a lower face covering, that hid everything up to his cheekbones, revealing a torn ear and messy blond hair. “It’s only 8pm and you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

“More than.” You replied, turning back to the sky. The stars were barely visible over the light of the base, but you could still pick out a few. “Missing someone. Today has been overall pretty shitty. But nightfall always makes it worse.” Your hand went to your tags, fiddling with the ring on them.

He hummed, going to sit next to you. He stayed silent for a bit, eyes flicking between the sky and base. “Happy birthday, by the way.” He said finally, sighing at the end of it. “Price mentioned it briefly this morning but we were pretty busy so we couldn’t do anything for you, if that’s okay.” He looked down at you, but you couldn’t tell what emotion he had going on.

“Thanks. I don’t mind,” You said, sitting up. “Haven’t celebrated my birthday with anyone in a little over seven years, so I’m used to it. Does the Task Force celebrate everyone’s birthdays?” Looking at him, his brow seemed to furrow at that comment. “Probably not, huh?”

“Price tries when he can. We don’t do mine though, because that’s classified.” He shrugged. “He’ll probably try to make it up to you. He’s not one to forget.”

“You’re super classified, huh? I wonder what that’s like. Must be nice having no one know who you really are. Well—” You paused, thinking. “Probably not. I was hearing legends of you even before I got sent this way.”

“More painful than anything, both metaphorically and physically.” He answered. “Only four people know what I look like. Only one knows my full name. It’s not great that everyone approaches me in fear, either. It’s not all fun and games.”

You nodded, getting what he was saying. After a long moments silence, you spoke again. “Do you have anyone back home? Do you think they miss you?” You asked him, standing to lean against the railing. He took a moment to think about his answer, knowing the answer to the first one, but not sure about the second.

“Not anymore. Only person I had disappeared after I did. Don’t blame her, though. I would too.” He stared up at you for a moment, still thinking about his answer to the next question. “I know she misses me. What I wonder is if she’s angry with me. I up and disappeared from her life, not thinking about the consequences.” He said, a hint of regret in his tone.

“I’d be pretty upset. I know the pain of being left behind… That’s pretty shitty of you, don’t you think?” You asked, looking down at him. He grumbled and sighed a little.

“Yeah. I know it is. But I did it for a reason though. I was being sent on a series of missions that would’ve put her in… in a lot of danger. The best route to avoid that was to cut all ties and disappear.” He bit his tongue. “I found her recently. Seems she’s holding up well enough. A deep dive told me she’s never really gotten over me, though. Adds to the rest of the guilt I suppose.”

“Good. Even if you were being chased by the worst monsters in the world, I don’t think she deserved that. You could’ve at least told her it was for her safety!” You scoffed without thinking. You groaned as the words that had left your mouth sank in, and you expected him to get up and walk away or give you a lecture. Instead, he stayed where he was, looking off into the distance. “Shit, I’m sorry. That just slipped out. My own anger got the better of me. That couldn’t have been easy, leaving her—”

“No, you’re right.” He cut you off. “She definitely didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Especially not in the way I did it. But that’s what I did and I have to live with it. Even if I regret it every day of my life.” Standing, he pulled a small pouch out of his pocket, passing it over to you. “Happy Birthday. Later, Firefly.”

You took the pouch and watched as he walked away. When he was out of sight, you opened it and held it up to look at. It was a small, expertly carved firefly figurine. It made you smile and you tucked it back into its pouch, deciding you’d display it on your desk.

[hydroj1ns]

onsen with mitsuri

cw: gn reader with cock, breeding, she picks up soap, uhh boobs, mentions of pregnancy but like twice, aftercare, cringe dialogue, NOT PROOFREAD (o god)

After an exhausting day working for the demon slayer corps, you were excited to finally retire for the night, but not before a nice, long soak in the hot springs.

What you didn’t expect was someone already in the water. You thought you’d be alone; after all, no one was normally awake during these hours. Uncaring and worn out, you stepped past the fence and into the warm water. The heat of it immediately relaxed your tired muscles, and you tilted your head back onto the stone behind you, closing your eyes.

That was until you were interrupted. “Oh! Hello! Are you also a demon slayer?” Opening your eyes, you were met with the love pillar of all people, with her signature pink and green braids just covering the peachy pink centers of her full breasts. Trying to maintain contact with her, you replied, “Y-yeah… long day, you know…”

“Ah! Same here!” she exclaimed cheerfully. How someone like this was a hashira, you hadn’t a clue. But how she could keep a good posture with those heavy jugs of hers was a more important question. The curve and shape of them was perfect, you doubt you had seen better ones before. Not only that, but her slender body and milky skin was begging to be touched.

Your gaze followed her body as she exited the hot spring. God, even her ass was perfect, round and voluptuous. She took a stool on the side and began scrubbing herself. That was until her bar of soap happened to slip out of her hand. Hurriedly, she got up to chase it, the fat of her behind recoiling with every stride. When it finally stopped sliding, she bent over to pick it up, displaying her juicy pussy from behind. Eyes widening at the erotic view of her pink folds, you felt yourself get aroused in the water.

As the hashira turned to walk back to her stool, you whipped your head away the sight, feigning ignorance.

“Ah.. excuse me! Do you think you could help me scrub my back? I cant quite seem to reach some spots.”

After muttering something about taking orders from a hashira, you crouched behind her sitting form, rubbing the bar of soap all over the expanse of her back, which was noticeably hard and toned. Surprising you, she suddenly stood up so that you were face to face with that glorious ass. Turning around so that you were now face to face with the lips of her cunt, she explained, “My arms are a bit sore right now, do you think you could also help me clean down there? I cant quite reach it.” She asked politely.

Of course, who were you to say no? You directed her to sit back on the stool and spread her legs around you. You first took your sudded hand to massage the inside of her thighs, drawing suppressed little moans from her. You moved onto her outer lips; your fingers were in a v-shape, rubbing up and down her lips teasingly. Then, using two fingers to spread her puffy folds, you were greeted by her tight hole. Using your other two fingers, you shoved them inside, stirring slowly and sensually. You watched as she arched her back and threw her head back, finally letting out loud moans. Her thick braids fell to the side of her large breasts, revealing the blushy pink nipples, which were hardened from the chilly night air. This only encouraged you to continue, so you started scissoring your fingers inside of her.

“Miss Mitsuri, I believe I can clean you deeper inside, if you would allow me.”

“P-please… I-ah! want to get clean…”

With her consent, you shoved your cock down to the hilt inside her convulsing cunt. Her warm walls felt so good spasming around you, so much so that you could cum right there, inside of her.

“Your cute little pussy is squeezing me so hard, what does it really want?” you asked teasingly.

She could only stutter, “G-give me your cum. Cum in my womb!”

“Dropping the act now? Wouldn’t that be the opposite of cleaning you inside?” You smirked. After all, this would most likely be your final and only chance to fuck a pillar.

“Give me your babies! I don’t care who you are! I’ve been celibate for months because of my duties! Give me anything!” She exclaimed passionately.

As per her request, you thrusted deep into her, and with every pull out and back in, she cried ecstatically, until she finally came, forming a white ring around the base of your cock. However, you kept abusing her throbbing pussy. While groping at her tits like your life depended on it, you could feel the head of your cock breach something inside of her.

“P-put it in my womb! Make me carry your child!”

Smirking, you wondered, “How heavily will these tits get once a make you round with my kids? They’re already quite heavy, are you sure you aren’t already pregnant? Am I fucking a pregnant woman?”

“I-I don’t kn-know!” She shouted, clearly drunk on your cock. You took the liberty to release inside her now-abused womb, filling the cavern inside of her with your white essence. Giving her nipples a few final pinches, you pulled out of her. She quickly used her well manicured fingers to stop to the cum dribbling out of her, desperate to keep every drop inside of her. God, she looked amazing, with her perky breasts shiny with sweat, pussy red after your fucking, and milky thighs shaking from it all.

While cleaning her, for real this time, you wondered how often the love pillar got fucked like this. It made sense when you really think about it, since her whole theme was love and lust. Also, why else was she the only one with a breast window anyway? And that short skirt? Her asscheeks practically hung out of those. Was her outfit really corps-approved?

Depositing her slumbering form at her inn-room, you thanked her before leaving, even though she probably couldn’t hear you. This was probably the last time you would see her, as you were just some low-rank, practically fodder for most demons.

You took your leave, trudging down the dirt path in search of your next assignment.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Chance 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Summary: You move into your parents’ house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.

Part of the Brother’s Best Friend Universe

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The next day, you acquiesce to your mother’s whims. There was rarely a time when you could deny her and the times you did, had her often reminding you of your ‘rebellious’ teenage years. You don’t bother to mention that wearing black and not wanting to hold her hand in public wasn’t much of a rebellion.

You just have to remember that this isn’t about you. Tandi doesn’t yet know the storm she’s marrying into. You’ll let her have her grace period before it truly sets in. It could be seconds, it could be months, but eventually, your mother will turn the screw.

You walk behind the pair through the crowded rows of the farmer’s market. They almost seem to forget you but that doesn’t bother you. You prefer it.

They stop at the soap booth and the battle of scent threatens to trigger a migraine. You hold your breath until Tandi finishes her purchase; some body scrub and a piece of soap that looks like a fruit parfait. Your mother opts for her own collection of cinnamon heart soap bars. You wonder where she’ll hide them as she only ever allowed white items in the bathroom; down to the soap and the shampoo.

“Do you have friends coming for the party then?” Your mother asks as they stroll along.

“Uh, yes, hopefully they can make it,” Tandi answers, “work and all that.”

“Of course, that’s understandable but it’s a very important event,” your mother chirps back, “do you have something to wear? You would look marvelous in rose.”

“I have some options,” your brother’s fiancee flick her hair back. “I was thinking it might be nice to do a brunch, rather than a dinner.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. And of course,” your mother pauses, peering back over her shoulder as she recalls your mournful existence, “we can help.”

“That’s so sweet,” Tandi purrs.

“Well, you know, we haven’t much going on.”

You frown. It’s an obvious jab at your current predicament. It isn’t as if you haven’t been trying. You filled every open job posting you can find and haven’t heard back from a single one. Yet, your mother would never believe you to be helpless, just lazy.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” you mutter but neither seems to hear or care.

You break away from them and delve into the crowd. You feel desolate in the roiling crowd. You don’t miss Ransom, or Hugh, or whatever he wanted you to call him that day, you just miss having someone else. Someone by your side to face the outside world. 

He never really was that, was he? You just convinced yourself he was. He settled for you and you thought that was good enough. You made yourself believe you were good enough.

You find the bathrooms and hide inside. You don’t need to go, you just need to get your shit together. You take out your phone and put on your rationed data so you can check your emails. Junk, junk, junk… ‘Invitation to Interview’. Huh.

You quickly scroll and scan the email, not wanting to waste the data. It’s nothing special, nothing as glorious as your previous job. It’s a customer service role at the local travel planner, a vibrant business among the burgeoning retirement community. It’ll have to do.

You flip the switch to disconnect from the network and emerge to wash your hands. You make your way back into the market and search among the tides. You wander in circles until you find the duo. They sit at the cafe bar in the corner, drinks in front of them, and a set of half-eaten scones. They didn’t wait for you or even think to grab you something.

You shrug it off. You think you might have been wrong. Again. Your mother isn’t going to bulldoze this daughter, no, Tandi is going to be the daughter she never had. Jaydon always was her favourite; the infallible baby boy.

💋

You accept the invitation. The pay is barely above minimum wage and the role is tedious but it’s all you’ve got. You don’t tell your parents, not wanting to disappoint them. It would be better to surprise them with good news, not let them down with another failure.

You find the nicest skirt you could salvage in your hasty retreat from the city. You sneak out through the back as the rest of the house delights in their perfect fairy tale. You’d rather have a stuffy interview than to bear another day of fake smiling and dulled blades aimed at your throat.

The agency isn’t very far. The bus takes you to the core of the town and your heels click down the half-block to the storefront painted with palm trees and beach umbrellas. You peek inside before you enter and check the information on your phone just to be sure. You’re early.

A woman named Brenda greets you and tells you to wait in the seats meant for clients. You fidget as the clock ticks in the quiet office until she finishes with the old couple at her desk in the tight cubicle. They leave, happy, and she invites you back.

It isn’t anything beyond the usual; what will you bring to this job? When’s a time you had to be spontaneous? How would you handle a disgruntled customer? You recite the acceptable answers and at the end, she offers you the job. You don’t think it’s because you’re anything exceptional but judging by the two-hundred days the posting’s been up, there hasn’t been much interest. You both are ready to take the first thing that comes along.

She sends you off with a smile and you try not to let your fake one fall before you’re out of the office. Out of the sight of the windows, you let your shoulders drop and sigh. It’s good news, you got a job, but somehow you think your parents will find a damper. ‘How much does it pay? What do you do? Oh, that’s a starter job.’

Well, dad, mom, I am starting over. I fucked up. I built nothing but a disaster.

You round the corner and stumble as suddenly you hit a wall you don’t expect. You stagger until you’re caught by firm hands around your upper arms. You gulp and your eyes round as they meet another pair, blue and bold. Jonathan grins as he issues an apology and your own tumbles off your tongue.

“I wasn’t… looking,” you murmur.

“Quite alright,” his hands linger on your arms and you wriggle. “Neither was I.”

He laughs at himself and you look down at his hold on you. He squeezes before he lets go and drops his hands to his side. He tucks them into his pockets. He’s dressed effortlessly in a pair of gray slacks and powder blue pullover.

“Special occasion?” He wonders as he looks you up and down.

You peek at your skirt. It’s nothing special. Pinstripe, black, pencil cut. It doesn’t fit you the way it used to. You think Ransom noticed that too…

“Job interview,” you shrug.

“Oh, exciting. So when do you hear back?”

You rub your neck and sway. He’s just being nice. He’s always been polite, on the outside, but you saw the antics he got up to with Jaydon. He always had that charming grin for your mother but never hesitated to cause chaos with your menace of a brother.

“You don’t have to ask. Really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Mm, well, what if I genuinely want to know?” 

There he is, that oppositional twerp. You blow out between your lips and smile, “I got the job. It’s at the travel agency so… big whoop.”

“Big whoop indeed,” he remarks, “I’d say we should celebrate with a drink but I’d also say you sound like you need one. Desperately.”

You meet his eyes again. You squint. Was he always this handsome? Or is that another trick of time? You pack on some love handles and you look chronically tired, but his lines only refine him, his age becomes him.

“That’s nice but I should head home.”

“Why? So you can listen to Jay brag about his convertible? Even I’m over that. He’d do better with something economic but he always knows best, doesn’t he?”

You scoff, “wow, sounds like you had quite the reunion.”

“Well, time changes us all,” he says, “but you always were more fun to drink with.”

[tiredlilguy]

I’m writing from my phone because I have carpel tunnel and my hands hurt. Take these randomly assorted BSD hc’s:

(possible SB spoilers, but just the characters)

- Albatross has every piercing under the sun: like he’s got a nose ring, eyebrow piercing, snakebites… anything u can think of

- Oda wears rings 🤤, plays with them when he gets anxious (he’s also my husband)

- Chuuya is a summer child (born in the summer), so he love it when it’s hot af outside and drags his friends outside to go eat lunch with him or smth (HES HUMAN IN MY HEART STFU, I DONT WANNA HEAR IT RN)

- opposite to Chuuya, Dazai is a winter baby, but he also hates the cold

- sometimes Adam sends Chuuya random incriminated texts on his phone. It’s usually just something silly like “Hello! I hope you’re eating sugar and growing very healthy.” Or maybe a random fact like “Did you know that cows have a strong sense of smell? They can perceive smells at a distance of up to ten kilometres.” Chuuya will usually not respond back, but he scoffs and lets out a small laugh to himself before closing his phone

- Ango hates bugs, he will cry if he sees a spider sitting on his paperwork

- Oda and Ango when drunk are very enthusiastic and energetic. Oda will dance on the counter while pretending his glass is a mic. Ango will join him too- The only person that knows this side to them is Dazai

- animals love sigma for some reason. Like Disney princess style love sigma. Sigma however, hates that this happens to him, and actively avoids walking in forests or places where animals usually reside.

- Oda is a good dancer, like good… old style bar dancer. He’s quite impressive actually, and it’s attractive-

- Chuuya and Albatross both have heterochromia.

- Literally no one except for Chuuya has seen Albatross with his sunglasses off. That shit is basically glued to his face

- Verlaine is bougie as hell. Like I know he’s Mafia, but I think it’d be funny if he was… more bougie than like everyone else in the Mafia. Like he actively buys and wears expensive shit.

- Verlaine has a good hair routine.

- Doc may or may not have a plushie collection. And they may or may not all be sea animals

- Kunikida seems like he’d have an emo phase. Idk why… I just think he would.

- Despite only using one bar of soap for showering, Atsushi actually smells really nice for some reason (he smells like lavender)

- lippman is a swiftie, doc is a barb (I discussed this with one of my moots and now I can’t stop thinking about it)

- since it’s hinted is SB that Lippman would still make ppl fold at him wearing feminine clothes, I hc that he does not rly give a shit about gender or what one should/should not wear

- Chuuya has taken this tip from Lippman and has worn skirts before with his outfits

- the real reason why akutagawa dislikes mandarins (that’s canon btw) is because one time he was offered one to eat and as he was peeling it the mandarin juice got in his eye and he chopped it up into bits out of anger

- Chuuya only ate bread and soup when he was in the Sheep, since then Kouyou has introduced him to the finer foods in life, and Albatross introduced him to junk food

- Dazai used Chuuya’s shower when he was in the Mafia because he didn’t have a shower in that old ass storage container

- Oda does not pay for haircuts. He cuts his own hair, and one time he was too busy so he had to tie it up in a low pony

- Kunikida likes things that are weighted (weighted blankets, etc)

- Oda’s a little bit tanned because of jobs that have to do with being outside in the sun for long periods of time

Ok that’s all. Enjoy. I should make an Odasaku hc list because he is my absolute favorite character (next to the flags). Let me know if u want a specific bsd character hc. I will write it >:3 (also please tell me ur hc’s too. I love hc’s) I’m gonna eat lunch now.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Analysing my favourite lines from Six of Crows chapter by chapter: Chapter 4

Same as usual: famous or popular quotes being missed doesn't mean I don't like them it just means I don't have anything new to say, and some quotes will not have explanations because I just like them I don't really have anything to analyse

“Inej knew the moment Kaz entered the Slat” - first of all I think it’s relevant that this is our second chapter from Inej’s POV and both of them have begun with the focus entirely on Kaz, the first one being the infamous “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, which she immediately disproves to be factual and instead shows as something created by the opinion of the many who don’t really know Kaz and disputed by the few, herself included, who do. To some extent it’s possible that the same action is being completed with this introduction, since it’s actually less about Inej being aware of Kaz’s presence than it is about her being aware of the Dregs’ acknowledgment of him. Secondly I find it an interesting parallel between the pair, that Kaz recognises Inej’s presence despite no-one else knowing she’s there whilst Inej recognises Ka’s presence because everyone knows he’s there. This not only summarises their drives, for Inej to melt into the background and stop being noticed for her physical appearance and instead valued for her skills, and for Kaz to be seen, to rise to prominence, and to be noticed by Pekka Rollins, but also tells us about their particular gifts for reading people. Kaz reads individuals incredibly well, he explains this in many of his quotes about lock picking and blackmail and we also get the brilliant idea of the way he notices everything about a person down to their scent and the story that their scent tells (I’ve written before about the relevance of him being bothered by the fact that Inej doesn’t have a scent but in the Bathroom Scene he comments on how he can smell soap on her), he sees small details, tells, and nervous ticks and these things give him a massive advantage in the control he exercises over individuals. Inej reads crowds, she sees collective responses to people, events, or objects and uses that response to evaluate the thing that caused it, she doesn’t notice tells until Kaz suggests she looks out for them but she is able to very quickly assess Kaz’s chances of success, and how quickly those chances change, when he faces the Dregs at the Slat and leads a coup against Per Haskell in Crooked Kingdom.

“The worst part of the Barrel […] Most of the buildings in this part of the city had been built without foundations, many on swampy land where the canals were haphazardly dug. They leaned against each other like tipsy friends gathering at a bar, tilting at drowsy angles” - I love the description, I love the imagery, I have a deep obsession with worldbuilding… this is just great, like I don’t really know that’s there’s anything to say it’s just great

“Inej’s room was on the third floor, a skinny slice if space, barely big enough for a cot and a trunk. But with a window that looked out over the leaked roofs and jumbled chimneys of the Barrel. When the wind came through and cleared away the haze of coal smoke that hung over the city, she could even make out a blue pocket of harbour” - ok first of all I’m obsessed with the imagery and the description, and second of all I’m actually just going to copy and paste a post I made a while ago about the window because I find it an incredibly important detail for Inej and I think this is worth saying again:

‘I find it really interesting that Inej’s favourite part about her room at the Slat, despite it being “barely big enough to fit a cot”, is that she has her own window. I think this is important not only because all the windows at the Menagerie were barred, but also because the whole idea of a window is representative of the difference between her life in Ravka and her life in Kerch. Travelling through Ravka, she had no need or want of a window because she was part of and at one with the outdoor world, free to explore it and enjoy it as she saw fit, but in Ketterdam windows and rooftops are her way of travelling the city. They bring her a source of hope and connection to the life she lost whilst simultaneously being her method of completing jobs for the Dregs to slowly claw her back to that very life. So in a way, the window has become a physical manifestation of both a veil of separation between her and everything she’s ever loved or cared for, a literal sheet of glass between her and her world, and of a hope for salvation to return to that love and care.’

“If you had a gripe, you settled it outside where you didn’t risk interrupting the hallowed practice of separating pigeons from their money” - I love this quote so much but I also think it could be interpreted as quite sarcastic on Inej’s part; she talks a lot about how “nothing [is] sacred to the Kerch except trade” and finds a lot of their traditions baffling since their cultural attitude and religious attitude are both so different to the ones she was raised in. This could be seen as a subtle undermining of the culture that abused her whilst appropriating her own culture of peace, which is of course deeply ironic of them, and also reflective of the battle constantly waging inside her over the morality of her surroundings and the core moral code she knows she has broken and will continue to break because circumstance has left her no other choices - possibly linking to the way she specifically considers more fear of her parents not forgiving the actions she’s taken since leaving the Menagerie than what she was forced to do whilst imprisoned there

“I didn’t hurt you none. It was just words” - this is Rojax’s response to Inej punching him in the face whilst wearing brass knuckles after he insulted her, demanded money that neither she nor the gang owed him, and then tried to grab her collar. Now ignoring the money since to be fair we don’t know how much he stole and how much his pay cheque should have been so we don’t know if it evens out or not, the important thing here is that Rojax fails to identify his ability to do Inej damage by calling her “little girl” (words Tante Heleen weaponised against her), referring to her as though she’s Kaz’s property, and threatening violence towards her. I don’t think Rojax meant to affect Inej in the way he surely did, but I do think it shows so well that there’s a massive lack of understanding in the Barrel for the kind of pain that people like Inej have experienced and carry with them, especially since she herself comments on the way even though she hid the scar from her Menagerie tattoo “they all knew it was there”. I how this makes sense I’m not sure if I’ve articulated it quite right

“People were watching now, so she hit him again”

“It would’ve been easy enough to turn away when they called her names or sidled up and asked for a cuddle, but do that and soon it was a hand up your blouse or a try at you against a wall” - this again emphasises that there’s no real acknowledgment of Inej’s experience as traumatic but almost as intriguing or even erotic, and it reminds the reader of the rampant misogyny that travels through the Barrel not only in the dehumanising treatment of women and children in the pleasure houses but also in the cultural attitude as a whole. Although no-one sees Inej as a less threatening force because of her sex, it’s undeniable that the Barrel sees women as something to be conquered or won, and we also see this reflected by the upper classes in the attitudes of merchants and in Van Eck’s marriages.

“Nothing was sacred to the Kerch except trade” - laughing at myself because when I talked about it earlier I didn’t realise this quote was in this chapter

“Inej like Rojax, but right now he was just a frightened man looking to feel bigger than someone”

“Still clutching his cheek like a stunned toddler”

‘ “You look exhausted. Will you sleep at all tonight?”

Jesper just winked.

“Not while the cards are hot. Stay and play a bit, Kaz will stake you”

“Really, Jesper?” she’d said, pulling up her hood, “If I wanna watch men dig holes to fall into I’ll find myself a cemetery”

“Come on, Inej!” He’d called after her as she passed through the big double doors onto the street, “You’re good luck!”

Saints, she’d thought, if he believe that he really must be desperate. She’d left her luck behind in a Suli camp on the shores of West Ravka. She doubted she’d see either again” ’ - this conversation is so important in developing the reader’s baseline understanding for Jesper’s situation and addiction, and it’s not something I see people talk about a lot. Other than Kaz staking him and Jesper calling himself “a creature of habit”, this is the first concession to Jesper’s gambling “habit” being a genuine and debilitating addiction, and I think it’s important for us as the reader to so early on see that Inej, someone whose opinion Jesper so highly valued and someone he is evidently so close to, is unable to talk Jesper out of the card game - in fact the entire conversation to me gives the air of there having been many previous conversations where she tried and this one being one of many following where she’s all but given up. She expresses her opinion on the situation with the beautiful cemetery line, she directly confronts him in the issue by asking if he’s going to sleep tonight, and doesn’t hold back on pointing out that the addiction is having a physical impact on his health by saying that he looks exhausted, but she doesn’t make active strides to pull him away from the game. I think Inej has reached a point where she accepts that it isn’t her job to try and fix the people she cares about, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to. She desperately needs Jesper to hear what she means through what she’s saying, and if he isn’t going to then she cannot stand by and helplessly watch his self-destruction. Jesper on the other hand seems to seek support in her and her presence because of his fears surrounding failure and not being cared for by others as much as he cares for them; he knows Inej leaves because she can’t help him and can’t watch him, and he knows that her trying to help him would make little long term difference as he explains in Crooked Kingdom when talking directly about his addiction, but that doesn’t mean that the cruel, self-destructive, disparaging part of him isn’t taunting him with the idea that she’s leaving because she doesn’t care about him and because she doesn’t want to help him, and that fear/pain only makes him feel more hollow and only makes him need to play more. Again I hope this makes sense it’s starting to feel like I’m just rambling

“Inej moved aside a bucketful of cleaning supplies that she’d placed there precisely because she knew no-one in the Slat would ever touch it” - I couldn’t cope in the Barrel. There’s no way I could cope with the fighting anyway, but if I by some miracle survived it would only be for the general lack of cleanliness to finish me off

' "This place is like anything in Ketterdam. It leaks,"

Inej could've sworn he looked directly at the vent when he said it. ' - I love this so much because Kaz never mentions anything about this himself but it just so fluidly becomes part of the way he's always aware of her presence. There's also never any surprise at meeting her right outside the closet she's hiding in immediately after the conversation with Haskell so I think we get the idea that's quite routine, and it begins more and more to introduce us to this quiet dependence Kaz and Inej have on each other without addressing it; there are so many things that they each know the others does but never mention, and I think generally speaking they both know that the other knows as well but their ease with one another doesn't require voicing it aloud - if anything it may even rely on keeping it silent, since neither of them are in a position yet where they can admit to themselves the need to rely on someone/the care they feel towards each other.

"You're smart Brekker, but you need to learn patience," - this line always catches me out a little, but I think it's actually just giving us another hint to the extent of disconnect Haskell has from the real experiences of his gang members. We already know Kaz to be a patient character at least in some of the situations we've seen so far, and he goes on to prove himself as immensely and genius-ly (I have no idea what the real word for that is, work with me) patient in his processes and his plans - particularly in Crooked Kingdom when he explains that "you don't win by playing one game". Remember it's in chapter TWO of Crooked Kingdom the Kaz puts the plan to hand Wylan his father's fortune into motion, we just don't know it until after the auction for Kuwei's indenture. Kaz does have a quote somewhere about how too many people aren't patient enough in committing crimes and that's how they end up making mistakes but I can't remember it exactly (I'm working off my audiobook at the minute so I can't flick through and find it), if any one knows it feel free to comment it because it's a great quote and a really interesting reference for this! My point here is that we know Kaz is a very patient person yet Haskell, someone who would appear on the surface to work so closely with him, is accusing him for a lack of it. Because realistically, Haskell has no idea of the everyday workings of the gang or anything of the scope of work Kaz puts into it, and I htink this is just another of the many unsavoury characters building hints we have to encourage the reader to develop an immediate disliking for Per Haskell in this scene.

"But you'll get your twenty percent" - it took me a while to actually think about the money and why the total is 30 million but the main six characters are only getting 4 million kruge each because honestly I won't lie it just didn't occur to me to actually think about the maths. Like I was vaguely aware that didn't add up but I didn't really think about it. But let's talk, because 30 million kruge split between 6 crew members should have meant each character receiving 5 million kruge each (30/6=5). But Per Haskell is owed 20% of any money that the Dregs earn, so he's taking some of the money. On the surface, does 20% seem like an unfair margin? Probably not, considering that theoretically the Dregs members owe him money, live at the Slat seemingly rent free, and are his employees in a business taht has to make money somehow. Personally I odn't think it's a great business model, but I literally know noting about business and also that's not really the point right now. The point is that on the surface 20% doesn't sound wholly unreasonable, and it doesn't sound unreasonable in this conversation. It's not until later, when Kaz offers Inej and Nina 4 million kruge to join the Ice Court Heist that it really occurs to us that they're kind of getting screwed over. Because 20% of 30 million kruge is 6 million kruge. SIX. This man is about to make 2 million more kruge by sitting around in Ketterdam playing with a ship in a bottle than any of our main characters are about to make for nearly dying a thousand times over and successfully infiltrating the Ice Court. What is interesting to me is how the decision of the money is made, because it seems that we're regarding it as if the income is solely Kaz's so he's paying Haskell is twenty percent then choosing to split the remainder between his crew, which seems to make sense since he was the one who was approached for the deal and the one who was offered the money. But if the money had been offered to hte six of them, the financial implications could have been far more complex. Wylan and Matthias aren't members of the dregs, so they would have no need to lose 20% of their income. They would each take 5 million, whilst the other four took 4 million and gave Haskell 1 million from each of their hauls. SO HASKELL WOULD STILL MAKE EQUAL TO THEM. Wylan and Matthias would come out marginally richer than the others, which neither of them were particularly bothered about anyway, and Haskell would still have done nothing and successfully screwed over Kaz and the other Dregs members. And I'm not saying they would've gone for that, because I don't doubt that Wylan and Matthias would have suggested splitting the income the way they do in the book anyway, but I'm saying it's so important that ultimately the person winning here is always Per Haskell. But what's really interesting about Kaz is that not only does he never question the suggestion of splitting the money evenly when he could have easily claimed more for himself as the person who made the deal nad hired on the others, effectively putting himself in Haskell's position except with more involvement, but even when he cuts Haskell out of the business he keeps none of the 6 million kruge for himself, instead splitting it between Rotty and Specht for their smaller roles in the Ice Court Heist. Kaz represents so many things that Per Haskell doesn't, and in that way he comes to represent key things that Pekka Rollins isn't as well, since the book makes strides to show Haskell and Rollins as effectively representative for all the gang leaders. Even though Rollins appears far more involved and on the ball than Haskell, when Inej attacks him in the final chapter of Crooked Kingdom he is forced to question the last time he "felt real pain" since no-one dared to actually fight him any more. I really hope this makes sense because it's very rambly and I'm starting to think I just explained fairly straight forward maths for no real reason.

"Rich as Saints in crowns of gold" - ok I love this because it shows us so much of what Kaz, or if we assume this is a common saying then the Kerch or just citizens of the Barrel, think of the Saints and of religious iconography. We know from the King of Scars duology, the Lives of Saints, and probably to some extent Shadow and Bone that the Saints' lives were not ones of riches, fame, or power, but Kaz exercises this idea of people turning themselves into religious icons for crude, financial purposes. I actually wonder if the way he views them is a kin to the way I've talked about viewing Jarl Brum as a reader, and I think that it's really important to hear this from Inej's perspective because we're already heightened to such an opposite idea by the overall style and tone of the chapter.

"And why Pim? The thought shamed her a bit. She could almost hear her father's voice: So eager to be the queen of thieves, Inej. It was one thing to do her job and do it well, it was quite another to want to succeed at it. She didn't want a permanent place with the Dregs, she wanted to pay off her debts and be free of Ketterdam forever, so why should she care if Kaz chose Pim to run the gang in his absence? Because I'm smarter than Pim," - First of all shout out to the Inej narrator of the soc audiobook because she nailed the intonation of "I'm smarter than Pim" I love it. Second of all we get this really interesting implication of Inej's moral code here, because as I've talked about before her morality is incredibly important to her and the necessity of crossing that line to survive has wreaked havoc on her emotional and probably mental states. She sees a clear distinction between doing what she has to in order to survive and enjoying what she does and I think this is possibly her 'new' moral code to cope with the inability to control her life and stick to what she considers her core moral values.

' "What would you say to 4 million kruge?"

"Money like that is more curse than gift,"

"My little Suli idealist. All you need is a full belly and an open road," he said, the mockery clear in his voice.

"And an easy heart, Kaz"

That was the difficult part. '

"We'll be kings and queen, Inej. Kings and queens,"

"Kaz was not a giddy boy smiling and making future plans her. He was a dangerous player who was always working an angle. Always."

' "I'll need Wylan waiting at the Crow Club tomorrow night,"

"Wylan? If this is for a big job..."

"Just do it," ' - Inej throws so much shade on Wylan early in six of crows and I always seem to forget and then be caught off guard when she's just complaining to Kaz that he's useless and Wylan's like '... I'm right here,'

"One moment he made her blush and the next he made her want to commit murder,"

' "Fence it,"

"Whose is it?"

"Ours now," ' - I shouldn't find this romantic, should I?

"Move the DeKappel we lifted from Van Eck's house into the vault. I think it's rolled up under my bed," - pleaseeeeee he doesn't even have the painting up, the audacity in this boy know no bounds. I talked a lot about the DeKappel when I was writing about the last chapter so I'm not going to detail it here, but everything about it makes me so happy

"Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won't you do me the honour of acquiring me a new hat?" - first of yesssssssssss we love, and secondly I wrote a whole thing about Kaz using sarcasm as a defence mechanism and the complexity of his inability to express emotions a while ago with particular focus on this quote and a few others so if you want to you can find that on my page or I might be able to tag people on it or whatever if you can't find it because it was some time ago now

' Inej cast a meaningful glance at his cane.

"Have a long trip down," she siad, then leapt onto the bannister sliding from one floor to the next, slick as butter in a pan. '

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed and that my scattered thoughts made at least some sense <3

[solacescastleglow]

🫧🧼Hygiene Tips I Learned Recently🧼🫧

The TikTok algorithm has finally borne fruit, and I went down a rabbithole of people talking about their best tips. And me being me, I took notes. Credit goes mostly to vanilla swirl and pickleflipflops for these, their videos have saved me I swear.

Hair

Using glycolic acid as a scalp exfoliator. I'm allergic to a lot of things they put in normal scalp exfoliators so this one is a game changer.

Double shampooing. My hairdresser told me to do this too FWIW.

Stop overconditioning. If you have hair like mine (low porosity 2C-3A), you don't need a rinse out and leave in conditioner. Just pick one.

Teeth

OK, so I do my 'everything toothbrush' on the same days I wash my hair (twice a week) in the evening, but you can totally do this every time if you want, I'm just unmotivated. For me, this means: 1. Oil pulling for 10 minutes 2. Brushing my teeth with fluoride (I like the Tom's cinnamon one) 3. Scraping my tongue 4. Water flossing 5. Hydrogen peroxide as a mouthwash (I'm allergic to mint)

When water flossing, use a mouthwash instead of water (or, in my case, adding a little hydrogen peroxide to it) for extra clean teeth.

Brush your teeth before eating breakfast. I didn't grow up with this so it's taking some getting used to.

When using fluoride toothpaste, leave it on for a bit after brushing.

Skincare

Double cleansing with oil based and water based cleansers even when you don't wear makeup, especially in the evening. Really make sure to get all the sunscreen off.

Adding castor oil to moisturiser.

Using castor oil under the eyes daily gets rid of dark circles.

Hypochlorous acid spray instead of cleansing in the morning (for all us executive dysfunction havers), and spraying it throughout the day to keep your face clean.

If you get really red, painful skin after eating certain foods, it could be a fungal thing. My dad had that for years and it's gone now because he uses an antifungal.

Showering

Dry brushing before getting in the shower. I lied when I said this is recent I've been hearing about this for years but it's important enough that I'm putting it here.

Wash your body after you've washed your hair. I like to do my whole hair routine and put it up in a T shirt, then go back into the shower to wash my face and body.

Double cleanse your body, first with a bar of soap, then with a body wash. Oh, also wash your legs and feet properly.

When you get out of the shower, thoroughly dry your armpits, between your toes, your privates, and your crack. The rest of your body, leave damp for your lotion.

Put on lotion before body oil. Oil traps in whatever's underneath, so if you put oil first, you're wasting lotion.

Body Odour and Perfumes

Glycolic acid kills the bacteria under your arms that cause odour. I don't even need to use deodorant anymore because there's just no smell.

If you still smell, try using a benzoyl peroxide cream as a mask, leave it on for 5 minutes then wash it off.

Places to spray perfumes: inner forearms near the elbow (putting it on your wrists means it'll rub off faster), middle of the chest/collarbones.

Toileting

Use! A! Bidet! After! You! Poop! If there's no built in one where you are, they have portable ones for like $30 on Amazon.

Apparently, wiping from front to back means the direction you're wiping? And not just to do your vulva first? It kinda hurts for me to do that but I don't want poop particles up around there so.

Misc.

Disinfect your phone and headphones once a week. I know you don't do that already. Dirty phones and headphones cause acne and also it's just gross.

Take your underwear off at night. Wear boxers or pyjama shorts or something if you want, but nothing too tight.

Not really a hygiene tip but waxing your eyebrows and dyeing them every couple of weeks means you never have to fill them in again. Same goes with dyeing your eyelashes and mascara.

[miniwheat77]

Tipsy. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW Smut, unprotected p in v sex, public sex, Price is being rough ;), alcohol, this is really short. Been sitting in my drafts for some time (sorry if I missed any.)

“I’m thinking we all go out. As a celebration.” Soap smiles.

“Oh please, you’re just looking for a reason to get your hands on some tequila.” John mumbles.

“Whaaaat? I would never.” He pretends to look offended. He shakes his head. “Alright fine. For just an hour though, nothing crazy.” John mumbles. Once they’ve arrived back at base they gather everyone up and they’re walking down the streets to get to the small club. It was nice being here, nobody knew who they were when they were dressed normally. It was peaceful. An hour later, you’re nowhere to be found.

“Is she still out on the dance floor?” Captain Price looks at his watch. “Yeah probably. You’ll have to drag her away Captain.” He rolls his eyes. “Christ in heaven, I didn’t sign up for this.” He grumbles, standing up from his spot at the bar.

They know exactly how you get when you drink, so sending their Captain out to get you is going to be funny. Your Captain hadn’t seen it yet. He was always so uptight, never wanted to go out. They knew you can be pretty persuasive, maybe it’d help him lighten up.

He’s shoving through the crowd to get to you and when he runs into you, you’ve got a grin on your face, grasping his hand and pulling him into you. He laughs awkwardly, you’re very pushy. “Uh.. it’s time to head back now.” He mumbles, you’re dancing in front of him. “Nooo. Come on. We just got here.” You grasp his hand, spinning around.

His eyes widen as you back your hips into him, moving with the beat of the song.

The rest of the task force is witnessing it, Soap is trying not to laugh. “He’s gonna kill us for sending him out there.”

“Oh absolutely, but it’s good for the old man.”

They can see how rigid he’s gone when you back your hips up into him. They can’t help but laugh.

“Y-Y/N. Stop.” He spins you around, you pull him into you. “Oh come on Captain. Live a little.” You smile. He swallows hard at how forward you’re being. You’re drunk. He’s drunk too, had a little more bourbon than he should’ve. He can feel himself getting hard in his jeans, something he hadn’t felt in ages. He growls when you back up into him again. “Y/N..” he grits his teeth, face near your neck.

“So. How many push ups do you think he’s going to make us do?” Gaz asks.

“Good question. I bet we’re up early for extra drills.” Soap laughs. Taking another drink of his Tequila.

You let out a gasp, tilting your head back to rest on his chest, feeling him hardening against your ass. “Captain..” you smile. Grinding back into him. “You’re in a lot of trouble for this.” He breathes, rocking his hips into yours. By now, the crowd around you has you buried between them and nobody is focused on the way you’re rocking into him. He grasps a handful of your hair, tilting your head back. His breath is hot against your ear. “Bathroom. Now.” He growls. You bite your lip, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. You can feel yourself sobering up, nervous as you make your way for the bathroom.

“She’s gonna keep him out there a while, I say we check out this pool table.” Soap nods. They all agree, standing up and making their way over to it.

You push open the door seeing your Captain standing in front of the sink. Luckily it was a small one person bathroom. He makes his way over to you, locking the door and pushing you up against it. “You’re a bad fucking girl, making a fool of me like that.” He growls. You look up at him, eyes wide and you appear intimidated until a smile creeps onto your lips. “I can make it up to you Captain.” You breath. “Oh you will baby.” He growls. He spins you around, pushing your face into the wall and forcing you to arch your back. Pushing your dress up over your hips. He pulls your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers over your bare pussy.

“Fucking soaked.. such a fucking slut.” He breathes. He unzips his cargo pants, tugging them down far enough to expose his aching cock. His tip is blushing red and leaking precum from being teased for so long. He spits in his hand rubbing it over the entrance of your pussy, feeling you mewl into him. He rubs his cock back and fourth over you until you’re whining.

When you don’t expect it, he’s thrusting into you. A gasp leaves your lips and your hands are resting against the wall, wishing you could hang onto something as he starts his aching hard thrusts into your pussy. Gripping your hair hard and pulling you back to kiss him, resting his hand on your throat as he fucks into you. “Such a bad fucking girl. You like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes- yes Captain!” You moan. “Mhm. I bet you do.”

“W-wanted you so bad.” You cry. Choking on sobs and cries as they leave your throat. “Yeah. I guess you got what you wanted hm.” He smiles. He wraps his hands around your waist, fucking into you and holding you tight. He hisses as you clench down on him, only now realizing just how long it’s been, how good you feel on him. “Fuck- gotta be quick before we get caught.” He breathes.

He pulls you back into him more, moving his fingers down between your legs and rubbing fast circles into your clit, you know you won’t last long. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum!” You whine, tilting your head back as he tugs on your hair once more. “Cum on my cock baby, yeah that’s it.” He growls. He’s right on the edge of his own orgasm, ready to let you have every bit of it. You pull away from him, and he growls. “What are you-“ you turn around to face him. “Wanna see you.” You breathe. He laughs, shaking his head. He grasps your thighs, lifting you up and pinning you to the wall behind you, a gasp leaving your lips at him manhandling you. His cock is slick with your orgasm still, making it easy for him to slide back into you. Hearing you moan. He pins your legs up, pressing his forehead to yours and thrusting into you, fast and hard. He’s reaching deeper places than before, growling as you start to claw at him.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him tight as he cries out. “M’gonna cum.” He gasps. “Gonna fuckin cum baby- fuck.” He grits his teeth, hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes, crying out as he finishes. He holds you tight to him, panting as he comes down from his high.

He pants hard into your shoulder. “Fuck.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “For what?” You breath, pulling away. “I was rough.” He breathes. “I haven’t.. done anything like this in a long time, I couldn’t control myself.” He breathes. You say nothing, deciding to kiss him instead. When he lets you down off of him, he slides out of you with a groan. “Fuck..” he sighs. “We should get back out there, they’re probably wondering where we are.” He laughs awkwardly. “Probably.” You smile, sliding your dress back down.

The both of you emerge from the bathroom, thankful that nobody is waiting outside.

When the both of you approach the pool table, you’re getting glances. “Finally got her off the dance floor ah?”

“Yeah, she’s uh.. quite the party animal.” He laughs. Hearing you laugh. “Nah I think she just sobered up enough to be done.” He lies. “Right, we’re just about done with this game.” Soap laughs, turning back to the table. They don’t see the way your Captain squeezes your ass as he passes by, a quiet gasp leaving your lips.