#i actually love how strong their accents still are

[ye4gerism]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

author’s note hi. happy thanksgiving. still writing the two final parts of good luck, captain. who knew writing smut could be so embarrassing? anyway, these headcanons take place in the world of good luck, captain. my requests are open - feel free to drop by

PRE - CRASH

• You and Curly had been talking about Thanksgiving for months. You had tried to convince him to come over to California but he insisted you come to Colorado to meet his maternal side

• You were really just trying to avoid this mom, who made it very very clear you weren’t the one for her son (in her eyes) and his weird roommate, Jimmy.

• You give in and months later you’re met by multiple cousins, aunts, and uncles. They’re actually pretty chill. It’s fun hearing their strong Australian accents going back and forth about if chicken or seafood is a better alternative to turkey

• Curly’s nieces and nephews are so in love with him and you fall even more in love with him when you see how much he cares for them

• “Isn’t he adorable?” Curly’s holding the youngest member of his family and you’re up against his arm, admiring the baby. “You two would look good as parents,” an aunt says.

• Okay, external family? Perfect. But his mom? Ooh…

• You try to extend an olive branch by presenting the pie you brought for dinner - she gives you a dirty look and goes on to greet another family member. You offer to help finish up with dinner - “You…don’t really look like you know what you’re doing.” You even breathing Curly’s air had miss girl fuming

• But your boyfriend, as usual, just smile nods and tells you that his “mumsie” will warm up to you

• This is the one holiday where you don’t run into issues with Jimmy because he’s fed - for free! You actually see him crack a smile once

• At the end of the dinner, you go up to Curly’s old room for bed. You’re cuddled up against him. “Can we do my place next time?” you ask, “Don’t get me wrong, the rest of your family’s nice…but I think you’ll like my Thanksgiving better.”

He looks back at you and chuckles. “I guess it’s only fair.”

POST - CRASH

• It takes a few years to get Thanksgiving on its feet in your home

• At the beginning, you’d both acknowledge the holiday and the hospital he was being treated at would send over a little Thanksgiving plate

• But when he could finally come home, you slowly started to integrate a lot of festivities in your lives, like Thanksgiving

• It’s really just the two of you - you rotate between turkey, chicken, and ham each year

• You watch a little bit of football before watching a Christmas movie on your couch before dosing off

[maximura]

Things only an Australian STAY will understand: When homesick Chan reflects on the Qantas commercial song (and he's absolutely right and real for that. If you know you know) but for Felix, it's the O'Briens commercial song. They repair windscreens. I died. Why does he remember that? Omg lol.

[loadsofcats]

Have a feeling that, if more of you read Riders of the purple sage by Zane Grey, you’d be going mad over Lassiter

[gloomwitchwrites]

You get drunk and don't remember giving them a hickey. So you get mad at them.

Oh, anon! I love love love this prompt. Even though the prompt itself is fairly straightforward, there is some wiggle room about how this could play out. I stuck to the prompt but did my best to keep them on the shorter side.

Some of these get spicy but don't fall into graphic detail.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, arguing, sexual tension, kissing, alcohol

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“These reports are shit, Price. What am I supposed to do with them?”

You’re trying your best not to sound irritated, but your head is pounding. You agreed to go out for drinks but told yourself you wouldn’t have more than one or two. That went completely out the door when multiple people began paying for rounds. After the fourth, the night started to come blurry. Not all the pieces are there.

Of what you can recall from last night, you remember that you sat in a man’s lap. Well—sat isn’t the correct word. More like straddled. You remember strong arms, an accent, and an excitement in what you were doing. But the face is still foggy.

“What you always do,” replies Price. There’s a tease in his tone you don’t particularly like. It’s too friendly, and it stirs something fierce inside your belly.

Price shifts in his chair behind his desk, the collar of his jacket flops open slightly. You catch a hint of something dark on the side of Price’s neck. You frown, your rebuttal gone.

“What is that?” You nod toward his throat.

Price leans back. “What?” he asks. “This?” He reaches up, pulling back on the collar.

It’s a…oh fuck.

“You were happy to give it to me.” Price shrugs.

Fuck.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, tossing the manila file folder on Price’s desk.

The man you straddled last night was Price? The man who is always fucking up reports and ignoring all your suggestions for corrections? That one?

“You looked good doing it, too,” he continues, that teasing smile falling into a comfortability of a lover.

No. No no no.

You place your hands on your hips. “And you let me do that?”

Price shrugs. “We’re consenting adults.”

“I was drunk.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest. “We were both drunk. And you’re the one who pounced on me.”

Embarrassment rises hot and wild in your cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You did,” he confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he smirks. “Ambushed me actually.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Your voice cracks, going a bit high.

“I tried.”

That’s almost worse. You jumped him and then sucked on his neck until it left a mark. What an absolute fucking mess.

You roll your eyes. “You tried? A big strong man like you couldn’t stop me?”

This time Price is the one rolling his eyes. He makes an irritated groan. Price pushes up from his chair, one hand waving out in front of him as he speaks. “You said you’d been thinking about me.”

It’s not entirely untrue. While you attend the clerical side of things, you do make excuses to come see Price. He’s older. Handsome. Assertive. His reports aren’t always shit but it’s the only reason you have to bother him.

“I didn’t mean it,” you reply but even you don’t believe it.

Price comes around the desk and steps into your space. “Really?”

You square your shoulders, staring into Price’s face. “Really.”

He shakes his head, clearly not believing you at all. “As I recall, you were in my lap. Practically begging.”

“And you allowed that? In front of everyone?” Even Price couldn’t be that careless.

This time, Price smiles like he knows something you don’t. “You don’t remember.”

“What?” you ask, flustered.

Price starts laughing, but it’s not mocking, more like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“John,” you snap.

Price sinks down into his chair, legs spread wide. “I think I liked it better when you said my name while seated in my lap.”

Your fingers dig into the top of Price’s desk. Pieces begin to return. Fragments of you squirming in his lap. Lips pressed against his.

“How did you say it?” he ponders, almost aloud rather than to you. Then, he smiles, not even answering his own question.

Price rests his palm on his thigh and your gaze drops to its subtle movement before returning to his face.

“Think I’d like a matching one,” he says. He runs his hand down his thigh and then back up. “Or I could give you one just like it.”

“John,” you murmur, not knowing what it is you want to say.

“Doesn’t have to be on your neck,” and his voice is nearly a growl. Price lightly squeezes his thigh and you know exactly where he’s referring to. “Be easier if you sit on the desk.”

You snatch up the folder on Price’s desk, clutching it like a shield against your chest. Price doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t appear fazed at all. Stomping over you shove it against his chest, intending to walk right out the door.

But Price is quick.

With one hand he’s clutching the file and with the other he grabs your wrist before you manage to move away.

“Remove your hand,” you say but there is no venom in it.

Price’s gaze lingers on your lips before shifting up to meet your eyes. “Come back when you know what you want.”

Price releases you, and you nearly stumble forward into his lap. Catching yourself on the edge of his desk, you spin on your heel, exiting Price’s office as the final fragments of memory fall into place.

You don’t want to admit it.

Not out loud. Not yet.

But you will be back.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s unbelievable. Unfathomable.

You’re not angry with Kyle. You’re upset with yourself. You’re upset that you were so careless about how many drinks you had, and how you couldn’t control yourself in the moment. Kyle is not a liar, and he doesn’t take advantage, so whatever you did, is on you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, swallowing down some of the rising irritation. “It’s my fault.”

Kyle shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not like I pushed you away.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist, flinging your arms out in exasperation, nearly knocking over bottles of cleaner.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, catching one of them before it hits the floor.

This little storage room isn’t big enough for this. You need space. You need to run far away from here and pretend like last night didn’t happen. Not that you can remember all of it. You don’t recall giving Kyle that mark on his neck.

“It does matter. We both had too much but I still had more of my head than you did.” Kyle places the bottle of cleaner back on the shelf. “I should’ve done better.”

“We’re coworkers, Kyle. And I had no right. We aren’t together.”

Kyle smirks and you want to smack it right off his face. “We could be,” he murmurs, taking a step forward.

“Absolutely not,” you retort but you don’t retreat.

Kyle’s smirk faulters a bit but he doesn’t shrink away. If anything, he looks more determined, like the rejection is a farce.

“You remember anything you said to me last night?”

You lick your lips and cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Even if I did, does it change anything?”

Kyle sighs and runs his hand over the top of his head. “It does for me.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you consider your options. Kyle is a sweet man, at least to you. Everyone always comments on it to you when he isn’t around, and you’ve always dismissed their observations.

Maybe he does care, and you doing this tipped him over the edge into a place neither of you might be able to come back from.

“I need some fucking air,” you mutter, wanting to escape this situation, even for a bit.

Kyle shoves forward, blocking the door. Your lips move, forming the shapes of words, but Kyle shakes his head, all seriousness.

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t need to talk about anything,” you snap.

Kyle’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline and his head tips slightly to the side, revealing more of the mark. “Everyone knows what happened.”

“What?” you breathe.

“We weren’t alone when you straddled me.” You’re too stunned to speak. All the words you want to say are gone. Lost to the void that is your mind.

Kyle sighs and leans against the door. “Soap got a great view.”

“Stop talking. Just—stop.” Your throw up your hands and Kyle does as you ask. “You are going to move out of my way. I am going to leave. And we won’t talk about this again.”

Kyle only stares, the silence stretching.

When you think he won’t give in, Kyle shifts to his left, leaving the door completely clear. Without taking a second to reconsider, you push open the the door, nearly running over Soap in the process.

He stumbles backward, cheeks bright red. Ghost is next to him, arms crossed, staring at the wall like he isn’t there at all.

Soap’s brief fluster turns into a wide, knowing grin. “Gaz give you a matching one?” he teases.

Ghost makes a noise that sounds like a snort.

“Both of you can fuck off.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Ghost.”

“What?” he grunts, side-eyeing you before returning his attention back to the tablet in his hand. He absently rubs at his neck for the third time in the last few minutes.

You frown. “Are you injured?”

“Why would you think that?” he asks, tapping at something on the screen.

“You keep rubbing your neck.”

Ghost pauses, his finger hovering just above the screen as he turns slightly in your direction.

You’re not trying to be pushy or nosy. Ghosts hates that. But there’s something wrong, and you care enough to ask him about it.

“You know what’s on my neck,” he replies cooly.

“No. I don’t.” A swirling fracture of unease blooms in your belly. It curls outward to claw up your throat. “What are you talking about?”

Ghost’s hand holding the tablet drops to his side. With one gloved hand, he reaches up, tugging the neckline of his jacket down enough to reveal a portion of his throat. The mask he always wears is in the way, but you reach out with a tentative hand, brushing the fabric upward to reveal a mouth-shaped bruise.

You drop your hand and take a step back. “Why would I know anything about that?”

“You gave it to me,” he says, matter of fact.

Sure, you had a few drinks last night, but did you really have that many? Enough that you can’t recall giving Ghost a goddamn hickey.

“You’re mistaken.”

“Never wrong, love.” Ghost locks the tablet and places it on the table next to him. “Especially about a woman sitting in my lap.”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, hips adjusting slightly as he pivots to glare down at you. “Try again.”

A deep rush of embarrassment floods your system, curling up your neck to heat your cheeks. “I wouldn’t.”

“You did,” insists Ghost. You glance down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Perhaps you had one too many. Sometimes you can hold your alcohol but clearly not. At least not last night.

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.” An apology is best. You have no idea how Ghost feels about you, but you are irritated that he didn’t try to stop the whole thing in the first place.

Ghost is silent a long moment. “I’m not.” Your head snaps up, but Ghost isn’t done. “I liked it. And you enjoyed giving it to me.”

You need the pieces to fall back into place. You need to remember. Because right now, you’re just confused, and Ghost’s behavior is entirely different from his usual demeanor.

“You don’t know that.”

Ghost shrugs. “I do.”

His certainty is confusing. Ghost is not a liar. He is always truthful, always to the point, even if his bluntness comes across as rude. And that’s what so frustrating about it all because you know that Ghost is right. You probably did like it, probably begged and writhed in his lap. Ghost wouldn’t lie about something like that, but he would tease you. Might even hold it over your head.

“This conversation is over.” You step around him to grab the tablet, but Ghost is quick like a viper, his large hand encasing your wrist.

“Do you remember?”

No. I don’t.

“It doesn’t matter.” You try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, but Ghost holds firm.

“When you’re ready. Find me.” He leans forward, masked face nearly touching the side of your cheek. “We’ll recreate it.”

Then his hand is gone, and Ghost is pulling away, presenting the tablet to you like he didn’t say anything at all.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What the fuck is that?”

Soap’s brilliant smile turns in your direction. He sits on the seat of a bench press, elbows resting on knees, sweat dripping from his brow. Soap is shirtless and a white towel is draped over the back of his neck.

Reaching up with the edge of the towel, Soap wipes away some of the sweat on his face. “What are you on about?” He adjusts his stance, his large palm pressing into his knee as he leans on an elbow.

The small gym isn’t crowded but there are people here. Some of them turn and glance in your direction but otherwise keep to their business. Ghost and Gaz are over by the boxing ring observing a few new recruits who slug it out for bragging rights.

Is Soap so aloof? Does he not see the massive mark on the side of his neck? And who gave it to him? A group of you went out for drinks but you don’t recall who might have given it to him or when.

You step closer, lowering your voice. “Your neck, Johnny.”

That gorgeous smile of his widens and he chuckles. “Did you forget?”

Did you forget? Forget what? Are you part of this?

You swallow, the salvia nearly sticking in your throat as you try to calm your thudding heart. “What do you mean?”

Soap leans back a bit, observing you. “You gave this to me.” His voice is too loud, and you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s heard. Everyone appears to be preoccupied with the recruits in the ring.

“I didn’t,” you insist, turning back to him. “I’d remember.”

Soap guffaws and removes the towel from around his neck. “Took a seat right here.” He indicates the spot by tapping his left thigh.

“Did we…” you begin, and then trail off.

“Did we what?” he prompts, clearly enjoying this.

You bend forward, lowering your voice until it’s a hiss. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Soap smirks, and then rises to his full height. “Promise I was a perfect gentleman.” He matches your movement, leaning in so that your faces are close. “But you? You were no lady.”

You inhale sharply, and Soap pushes right past you, heading for the showers.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath

@enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@hantheconqueror

[yamujiburo]

Hello, I’ve always been impressed by your design decisions so I wanted to ask: are there any Pokemon or trainers that have really spoken to you design-wise? Not necessarily your favorite, but left a strong impression on you.

Hope the rest of your day goes well! ^^

Aw thanks so much! I love character design, it was my first passion before storyboarding actually

Here's my faves:

RYME!!!! They nailed that older gen rapper look. Backwards cap, sequins, lots of gold and a puffy jacket! Also I'm not quite sure this is the intention with her shoes but they kinda look like grillz which is sick. I'm a sucker for a limited palette so the black, gold with turquoise accents in her nails, mic, earrings and eyes spoke to me. Also OF COURSE her hair (you're gonna se this pattern for the next two LOL). Making her locks look like a skeleton??? Genius. I love the hand bone for the front and the hip bone for the back. Literally one of the coolest trainer designs pokemon's ever given us.

GRANT! Just an immediately readable design. Oh, he looks like a rock climber, must be a rock type gym leader. Simple fit, I love a sleek black top. The carabiner, climber straps and chalk holder add a little more complexity to the design but not too much. It's a smart choice with how wild his hair is. I feel like if you do too much in the fit AND the hair, you risk your design feeling overdesigned and busy. I love that his hair is meant to look like a rock/cliffs with the holds! The holds add a nice dash of color without being too much.

AMARYS <3 It's the fact that she's in uniform but still has a design that immediately caught my eye. But to her being in uniform, I find it really cool that the other Elite 4 members really alter theirs or have accessories that make the uniforms feel like their own or really different but Amarys doesn't really. It goes to show how rigid she is and gives you the impression that she's a very "follow the rules" kind of person. Her main accessory seems to be her boots which just LOOK heavy, and sleek and look like they have bolts in them. It really makes her design feel bottom heavy and grounded which I feel is appropriate for a steel type trainer. Now, hair. Look at her hair. SO GOOD. I loveeee that pokemon is utilizing black hairstyles like this. Her hair being screws that kinda resemble banto knots is so CUTE. The could have left her hair at that but the braid across her forehead adds a nice asymmetrical aspect to her design. It's so cool that it mirrors her pocketwatch chain, creating a focal point on the school crest. And lastly her glasses! Super cute, I think it's cool that it gives the illusion of bottom lashes which makes her eyes feel a little more droopy or sad than they really are. It just really brings her facial features all together and helps sell her personality.

[wileys-russo]

a deals a deal II l.williamson

"where'd you find this place?" you smiled in awe as you followed leah into the arcade, the blonde not missing the ways your eyes had lit up the moment the two of you had even parked outside, exactly the reaction she'd hoped for.

it having been your girlfriends turn to organize date night leah reveled in the fact that it was already seeming to be a success before it officially started, and you had to admit the older girl knew you like the back of her hand with this choice.

with both of you working full time, leah as a footballer and you as a primary teacher you both made a commitment early on, the moment things started getting serious, that despite your hectic schedules you'd still make every effort to keep consistent with spending quality time outside of work together.

and so the weekly date nights came into effect.

they weren't always big significant events nor did they always mean the two of you left your shared home, the key takeaway was quality time and so long as the two of you were focused on one another then that was guaranteed.

"lotte put me onto it, tao brought her here on one of their first dates." leah admitted as you gasped sarcastically. "and you're not even taking the credit? oh baby i'm so proud of you!" you cooed mockingly, pinching her cheeks as the taller girl shoved you playfully, the two of you making your way to the counter.

"i'll be taking credit for all the games i'm about to smash you at my girl, don't you worry your pretty little head about that." leah smiled smugly as you rolled your eyes and she hooked you both up with a large bag of tokens, even further fueling your excitement at the fact they still ran their games the old school way, physical tickets printed and all.

"oh my love me and my pretty little head cannot wait to watch you eat your words!" you grinned in response to her call out, and given neither of you liked to lose and were incredibly competitive, it was sure to be an interesting night.

there was a reason the two of you stopped getting invites to game night with leahs family, both of you banned until you learned how to behave like well mannered young women and not hotheaded impatient numpties, in the words of her grandmother.

"well either way you can consider tonight endless tokens, if you can spend them then i will buy them gorgeous." leah promised, pecking your lips sweetly with a charming smile and offering for you to pick the first game.

"mm good question babe. what do i want to beat you at first?" you pondered, stroking your chin as leah sighed dramatically at the time you were taking, tapping her foot and shoving her hands into the pocket of her jacket with a bored look written into her features.

"oh come on!" leah groaned impatiently as you pivoted away from yet another game, amused smirk on your features as you finally stopped and nodded happily.

"basketball. lets start off simple!" you decided, grabbing your girlfriends hand and dragging her over toward the game, the blonde hurrying to yank you back as a gang of young boys sprinted past almost smashing into you, leah looking after them with a deep seeded scowl.

"hey lee, need i remind you this place is actually designed for kids baby, relax." you smiled poking at her cheeks as she huffed air out of her nose but focused her attention back on you, both of you slipping tokens into your sides as the game lit up and a strong american accent yelled out the rules.

"ready...set....go!" leah counted down as the buzzer sounded, both of you scrambling to grab the balls, zoned in on your own rings as the points started to rack up for both of you.

leah snuck a quick glance to your side, bright eyes widening in shock seeing you were in the lead and by quite a significant amount. and just as you said neither of you liked to lose, which is what lead to her next move.

"oi!" you gasped as the defender leaned over and knocked the ball out of your hand, shooting with her other, doing it again and again as you reached for the basketballs.

"leah!" you laughed at her blunt competitiveness, shoving her as the final buzzer for the game sounded and the blonde cheered victoriously, pumping her fist and doing a victory wiggle having just beat you by two points.

"you are such a cheat and a shit loser." you shook your head as leah continued her victory dance, snatching her tickets from the machine and shoving them into her pocket.

"nah i'm not, cause i didn't lose." she booped you on the nose with a token as you smacked her shoulder. "right well if you want to carry on like that. would you care to make this interesting then williamson?" you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest.

"mm perhaps, what do you have in mind for a wager pretty girl?" leah raised an eyebrow curiously, cocky smirk still curled into her features.

"if i win, you do all the dishes and the laundry for a month." you stated, leahs jaw dropping and your smile widening knowing she detested the two tasks and would often offer you anything in return for not having to do them.

"a month!? nah two weeks mate max." "aw, are you that scared you'll lose baby?" "i am not! fine, a month then."

"but if i win... then you have to do that thing i've been asking you to since christmas, with my special gift." leah cocked her head to the side, storm blue eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you frowned a little in confusion before it clicked just exactly what she was after.

both half jokingly and half seriously the blonde had gifted you a very ill fitting maids costume for christmas, stating as part of your gift to her you should spend the day wearing it, claiming it would be great motivation for her to join you in doing the housework.

you only laughed and put it away, teasing that not even that would get her to pick up a dirty dish.

but every now and then leah would find it in the back of the wardrobe and the begging would start for you to live out what was clearly a fantasy for the taller girl, and each time you'd just teasingly shake your head in amusement and depart the room with a kiss, leaving her without a real answer.

"fine, a deal's a deal." you shrugged in agreement which was clearly to your girlfriends surprise as her eyebrows shot up in shock and you extended your hand, wiggling your fingers eagerly.

"brilliant. a deals a deal." the blonde echoed as she shook your hand but not before using it to pull your body into hers, stealing a kiss and nipping at your bottom lip, pulling away with a cheeky grin as your head spun and your cheeks flushed pink.

"right, my turn to pick then. and unlike some i won't take an hour to decide!"

~

"how in the hell do you even do this? its got no bloody control!" leah huffed, the two of you sat on motorbikes as you raced around the track on the screens in front of you, the girl beside you far from getting the hang of it despite it being the second time you'd raced, leah demanding a rematch after crashing her bike and earning a loss.

"like this, winner!" you cheered loudly, pumping your fists in the air as you zoomed across the finish line sitting back smugly as leahs eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown and she smacked at the handle bars in annoyance.

"loser." you pointed to her now with a wink as she flipped you off, rings glinting in the bright neon lights above.

"maybe i should get a motorbike." you teased, turning your body as leah jumped off the bike, appearing instantly in between your legs as you stayed sitting side sadle. "over my dead body, maybe focus on learning how to drive a car first babe." leah teased making you roll your eyes, her hands settling on your thighs and squeezing them with a grin.

"i'm a great driver thank you very much." "mmm but those handful of fines in your glovebox say differently baby girl." "those are parking fines leah, not driving offences." "oh i'm so sorry. correction then not only are you a shit driver but you're an appalling parker as well, can't even be trusted when the car is stationary!" leah tutted with a dissapointed shake of her head as you punched her in the shoulder and scoffed.

"sorry let me just get a score check, whose winning?" you asked, cupping a hand over your ear and leaning toward leah whose smile dropped.

"shut up." she mumbled with a small pout as you slid off the motorbike, the two of you wandering around for a moment as leah took her time choosing.

"perfect!" the taller girl grinned spotting a football shootout game in the back corner. "and how many goals do defenders normally score?" you hummed, pretending to be lost in thought as leah slotted in some tokens and rolled her eyes.

"don't be bitter that they don't have a teaching game babe, times tables aren't exactly something kids do in their time off for fun!" leah pouted sarcastically at your chosen career, you now the one to flip her off and gesture for her to start.

"right go on then superstar, dazzle me."

you had to hide your smile behind your hand as leah missed more kicks than she scored, the game clearly designed for a child with much less leg power as every ball sailed up and over the goal.

you watched as her shots became sloppier the more wound up and angry she got, only fueling her to continue to miss time and time again. "nah this is bullshit that's rigged!" leah scowled, kicking at the machine once her turn was over and grumbling under her breath.

"leah!" you scolded, moving her away from causing actual damage as she wound up for another kick.

"hey. breathe for me please, it's just a stupid arcade game, you're still a champion of europe baby. nothing takes that away!" you grabbed at her face, placing a soft kiss to her lips and feeling her body relax somewhat.

"...its just a good thing they didn't need you for any penalties because those attempts? massive yikes." "oi thats a red card for you my girl, absolutely uncalled for!"

~

"right, this ones the final game." leah glanced at the time and announced with a clap, the two of you so caught up you'd not even realized the time and how long you'd been here.

"oh how convenient, we're tied." you rolled your eyes, not believing that the 'score card' leah had been in charge of was really all that accurate, having been typed up in notes on her phone.

"and what is that supposed to mean?" "i'm accusing you of score tampering, williamson." "no idea what on earth you're on about love, i'll even be so kind as to forfeit my turn so that you choose our last game." "wow, and they say chivalry is dead?"

"mmm that one." you nodded to a shooting game in the corner you'd not yet tried, leah humming in agreement as you made your way over. "was that your stomach?" you asked in disbelief hearing a loud gurgle.

"yes! i'm fucking starving." leah moped with a huff, earning herself an unimpressed look from a mother standing at the next game with her two young kids, you smacking leah lightly and mumbling about her language.

"sorry miss." your girlfriend teased with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes and gestured for her to take her turn. the gunner shot down 8 tin ducks out of 12 and shrugged, seemingly happy with her efforts.

"beat that, four eyes." leah smirked, flicking at your ear as you smacked away her hands and shot her a dirty look.

you only wore your glasses when you were using your laptop, reading or occasionally when teaching, and as much as leah found you utterly adorable in them the english captain also would never miss an opportunity to rib you about your poor eyesight.

"happily, noodle legs." you quipped back with a smile, grabbing the gun as leah mocked you under her breath and ordered for you to hurry up as her stomach rumbled again.

closing one eye you balanced the toy gun on your arm as the game commenced, shooting down six ducks with ease, a few more to go and you'd win still with plenty of time left to do so.

however as you placed your finger on the trigger, the timer counting down from ten, a set of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, one hand in particular slipping up the inside of your top and harshly squeezing at one of your boobs.

in shock at the unexpected touch you squeezed the trigger and dropped the toy gun, missing the ducks by a mile as the timer went off and leah's hands suddenly disappeared, your skin burning where they'd once been.

"oh that is so not fair! you. are. a. dirty. dirty. dirty. dirty. dirty. little cheat." you protested with a growl, turning on your heel to glare towards a smug looking leah, poking at her chest angrily with each word.

"i simply do not know what you're talking about gorgeous, i guess your aim was just off. and that is not my fault!" the blonde simply smiled cockily, knowing she'd now won.

though sensing your rapidly growing annoyance leah reached for your hand, pulling your body into hers and stepping the two of you in between two pinball machines, briefly tucked away from sight.

"leah catherine williamson you are an unbearably bad loser, a big child, bad mannered, short tempered and-" not even giving you the time to finish your sentence the taller girl cut you off by bringing your lips together, pressing your body against the arcade wall.

leahs hands settled themselves on your hips tucked away under her jacket you'd stolen from her earlier in the night, the defender slowly swiping her tongue against your bottom lip, taking control of the kiss as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck, tangling themselves in her recently chopped short blonde locks.

though before the two of you got any further carried away someone winning a game meant a loud siren went off behind you, the two of you jumping away from one another in shock at the abrupt noise of the machines, sharing a look before breaking out into soft laughter.

"come on hangry, lets go get you some food then." you smiled with a sigh as leahs stomach rumbled yet again, previous annoyance melting away as it always did when it came to the mischievous footballer you were head over heels for.

"no i think we should head home, i'm hungry for something else now." leah murmered quietly, thumb stroking your jaw, lips curling into a smug smile at how your cheeks flushed scarlet at her suggestive tone.

"plus i think you're due for a little outfit change baby girl. a deal's a deal and you're nothing short of a woman of your word, right?"

[elementroar]

Analysis of Paracelsus' initial bloodlust and its longlasting effects on A.B.A (Part 2)

Analysis behind the backstory and personal story arcs of A.B.A. and Paracelsus (part 1)

So this actually started out more of a 'funny' post, but I realized that it really is a very important insight into how A.B.A. and Paracelsus function and interact, especially for his earlier days in XX/Accent Core +R

And I wasn't joking about the vore. It's not in the erotic sense...but it certainly is in the 'literally eating parts of your partner ' sense...

Also apologies for the long word dumps, it got wordier and longer than I expected.

Paracelsus (used to) REALLY love blood

It goes without saying, Paracelsus really loves blood. Well he used to anyway.

By STRIVE, he says he felt he lost his sanity whenever he gets hyped on blood in the past. To the point, he has sworn off blood (and violence) as if it was an addiction. Basically, he has managed to go clean sometime between their last appearance and STRIVE.

To not go too far into his backstory again (which you can read here), Paracelsus is a magical axe that fed on blood and increased his own power with blood; and would use warriors as hosts to cause more bloodshed and thus gain more blood and power for himself. Paracelsus doesn't need to 'eat' blood to survive (he was left host-less for about 20 years, and now abstains in STRIVE and is just fine), making the addiction metaphor seem to be accurate.

Back in XX/ACCENT CORE, he needed to drink fresh blood to transform into his superpowered Moroha mode (this is mechanically replaced by Jealous Rage mode now). Similar to his current gameplay, he could get blood and transform by A.B.A. piercing someone with his bladed end; or if A.B.A. fed him one of three blood packs she'd have on her.

He reacts pretty much like a dog getting a treat, anticipating it when she reaches into her pockets for a pack too. And he truly didn't care where the blood comes from, even if it's from A.B.A. herself.

A.B.A. coughs up blood and all Paracelsus wants to do is have a taste. Note that he barely actually reacts to her or himself getting hit or fighting in the old games. It's kind of a stark contrast to his many reactions and concern for her wellbeing now.

Make no mistake, despite being "kinder and gentler" than how he treated his previous hosts - by not completely mind controlling her into a frenzy and caring enough that he doesn't want her to die - Paracelsus was truly obsessed with drinking blood still, and all the fighting skills and power he imparted on A.B.A. was to make her strong enough to defeat opponents and gather blood for him too. Hence the 'manipulation' he felt guilty of in STRIVE.

And he gets even more bloodthirsty in Moroha mode aka what Paracelsus is without his 'sanity'.

You're the worse you when on blood

Prior to STRIVE and Paracelsus' current sludgy form, his powered-up form gave him a goat's head and his persona changes into that of his old berserker self.

This increase in aggression and bloodlust also affected A.B.A. through their empathetic bond, making her also take joy in violence and also clearly hyperventilating and tweaking out in some animations, like she's high.

Not to mention that to fight in this mode, every time Paracelsus makes a successful attack, A.B.A. also gets damaged (hence 'Moroha' mode as it means 'double-edged'). In-universe, this could mean that Paracelsus is sapping both the blood of an opponent and A.B.A. at the same time, indiscriminately as he says.

And he seems somewhat crueler in this form, as he has an even more violent and vicious state above Moroha mode called Goku Moroha mode. He enters it by consuming another blood pack, but he also seems to bite down on A.B.A.'s hand without a care and holds onto it while he transforms.

The impact of all this on A.B.A

Picking up Paracelsus was truly a double-edged sword/axe for A.B.A. On one hand, he was older and savvier about the outside world (even though he spent like 20 years just rusting away on the ground somewhere) and having him as her emotional support key and literal weapon led her to actually daring to explore the outside world, and he provided and (attempted to) advised her on things she didn't know about.

On the other hand, Paracelsus' satiating his bloodthirst was still his main objective, and it was also hurting A.B.A. Although Paracelsus was making some effort to not outright get her killed, A.B.A's additional resilience as a homunculus probably also helped her survive take being Paracelsus' host as long as she did.

Paracelsus was the original toxic element in their relationship, and it's likely over the years he's come to realize and regrets the harm he was doing to A.B.A. constantly, and why he has completely sworn off blood and violence entirely by STRIVE.

However, his bloodlust fueled and amplified the worse tendencies of A.B.A. from early on, and this seems to have stuck with her till the present in STRIVE. Her current extremely violent reaction when feeling jealousy or anxiety is likely how she's been conditioned to do so by Paracelsus, even when he himself is no longer the source of that bloodlust.

The difference now is that A.B.A.'s new powered-up state of Jealous Rage is mainly fueled by her wrath and fear instead of Paracelsus' bloodlust. Paracelsus becomes sludge now, affected by the toxicity of her unstable emotions going haywire and her will becoming decidedly dominant over his. The one who is toxic has become inverted.

What's more, it seems that the skills Paracelsus imparted on her before also carried over and stuck with her, allowing her to fight independently since Paracelsus isn't trying to encourage her to violence this time. She's become so dominant that she now can even force a new form/transformation onto Paracelsus when she does her Overdrive The Law is Key, Key is King while in Jealous Rage.

In the game files, this red form is called the "Hyoui" form, meaning 'possession'. It being red is interesting because it seems to be a callback to Paracelsus' moniker of being the Sanguine Gale. The concept art also shows the pretty disturbing way he's being morphed into it by A.B.A. when she does the Overdrive.

When in her Jealous Rage mode, the bottom half Paracelsus' where his axe blade is, somehow becomes more axe-like than it ever has been in the games. In the earlier games, his blade half didn't change, only his head does into the goat-head. What's more disturbing is that eyes already started appearing on the axe half even while Paracelsus tries to maintain his original face as much as possible.

When executing the Overdrive, A.B.A. swings with the axe half as the sludge pulls from Paracelsus' face to form this new toothed red axe head. Is it a new persona? Is Paracelsus still conscious in his face half or in the axe half at all? Does 'possession' have double meaning where A.B.A. is possessed by her own wrath, but also Paracelsus is now the one being possessed by A.B.A.'s will into forming the red axe form?

The interesting thing too is that A.B.A. executes the Overdrive with precise strikes, liked a skilled warrior. IMO, at this moment A.B.A. ironically became the exact kind of warrior that berserker Paracelsus would have wanted and caused him to even revert back into that primal early form of his that was barely sentient. They gained perfect synergy for the attack, but both are literally out of their minds.

What started this post

Just a funny thing but the reason why I even thought of, and then looked into all this, was because of A.B.A.'s biting of Paracelsus at the top of the post. I was wondering why Paracelsus doesn't say a word of protest when she does this to him, then remembered that he used to kinda drink her blood (and turns out he too has bitten her before), and I think he's prolly thinking "I deserve this".

[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.”

[bunnybunbun0]

robert chase boyfriend headcanons

look whos writing fro a dead fandom again?! well boo hoo,im nearly done with house,and im experiencing dr chase brain rot,so heres this!

enjoy!

-chase is the type of guy to celebrate monthly anniversaries

"happy three months anniversary baby" and he has a cake and everything

-pays attention to your bad habits in order to prevent them. Like,if he sees youre chewing on your nails hell give you a pen to hold and stim with or a sucker to distract you.

-also,he is a terrible liar,blame catholic guilt fro this one.

-if youre trying to hide your relationship from house and the rest of the team good luck,because this boy cant be sneaky for the life of him.

-we all agree he is a cocky flirt right? that is until you flirt back,then he instantly becomes a blubbering mess os shyness.

-you look sad? he will have none of it,goofy mood is activatd and hell do every silly trick on the book to get a laugh out of you.

-will do anything posible and impossible to cheer you up;pull you in for a dance,tell embarassing stories from his college days,anything!

-it goes without saying that hes very particular about his hair,yet youre still the only one who have the privillege of touching it

-overprotective at his top. hes okay with being mae fun of or treated poorly by patients or the hospital staff,but when you become the target hes ready to show how far the medicine malpractice really goes.

-if youre in a point in the relationship where you share a house be ready to hear the most obnoxious songs being sung at the top of his lungs while he does chores.

-loves loves loves! showing you hes strong; cant open a jar? there he is! yur water bottle cap is on too tight? super chase to the rescue!

-after cameron he gets very insecure,so he needs constant reassurance that you actually does love him!

-small action that shows hes always paying attention to you;like pulling up the lose strap of your summer dress,covering the sharp edge of the tables with his hands so you dont bump on it and hurt yourself,refilling your bottle with cold water when he sees its running out,this type of thing.

-when he has the aux on the car and a romantic song comes on he sings in looking directly at you in a serenade style,bonus if the singer has a deep voice or an accent,then hes doing a full blown impression.

-gives the best massage ever,has your eyes rolling while undoing all the tension knots on your back,and he takes pride on it.

-you two definetely have a spicy playlist and when hes in a specially nasty mood he plays a few of its songs in public to fluster you.

hope yall have liked,i loved this baby girl so much

send an ask if you want headcanons from any other character

[muldermuse]

An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

OR

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays.  The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall. 

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck” 

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name? 

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical. 

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top. 

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?” 

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty. 

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

[wonderjanga]

Billy Disillusioning Himself

So I saw a post a long time ago about Billy using Marvel to disillusion himself into thinking his dad is still alive. So imagine if disillusioned Billy as Marvel also thought that he was C.C.. Like Billy ends up building this whole personality for himself as his Dad from the memories of when he was still alive. Like, it becomes a sort of split personality Billy takes up whenever he turns into Marvel. I think it’d be so confusing for Mary to first time she met Marvel.

Imagine, a 10 year old Mary meets Billy as Marvel. She’s seen the man in the newspaper and is excited to meet a real life super hero. Then, the man claims that he’s her father and at first, she doesn't believe but soon, she comes around to the idea, and she’s so happy! She gets to have a father that looks at her with all the love in the world. “If only your mother were here to see how much you’ve grown.” He told her, with a small, affectionate smile as he stroked her hair. And then, out of nowhere he transforms into some scraggly little kid who claims to be her brother. At the time, little Mary chalked it up to Billy being both C.C. and Billy. A sort of two for one package if you will. He’s nothing like her- or rather their dad, but she still loves him. She’s never had a brother after all. And so, the idea sticks in her mind, so now she gets a brother and a father. She’s still extremely happy. Soon after, she gets to be Mary Marvel and now she gets to spend even more with her father! She loves every moment. There are multiple videos and clips of Mary and Marvel acting like father and daughter, so much so that the league eventually asks about her. “Oh, yes! Mary is my daughter. She’s grown to be so strong. I’m proud of her.” He declared fondly. One of the leaguers remarks that she doesn’t really look like him. “She takes after her mother, Marilyn.” Then, another leaguer speaks up, asking how he met his wife. “We met…” He trailed off. Billy never got to ask how his father met his mother, as a result, he, or rather C.C. had a gap in his memory. “I… can’t seem to recall for life of me,” he said, sounding slightly puzzled.

Also, he always talks in a slight, barely noticeable transatlantic accent, and he makes many references to old 50’s movies because in my heart he went to the movies with kids a lot. C.C. actually used to make references to even older movies from the forties and thirties but because Billy wasn’t even a sperm cell at the time, he doesn’t know any of them and just makes references to ones he actually saw when he was alive.

And in case none of this makes sense, my Billy and Mary were born in 1950. C.C. and Marilyn died in 58 when the twins were 8 years old. Around 60 to 62, the time bubble formed.

[corvidae-00]

Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747

The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.

You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.

Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain

"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow

"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better

Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.

"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose

"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.

"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head

"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.

you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language

"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum

Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!

[russo-woso]

I just want to feel something | Alessia Russo

Warning smut, MDNI

Summary Alessia’s been feeling down so you take it upon yourself to make her feel better.

First smut so I’m a bit nervous about this one.

Let me know what you think

—

You always loved going to England camps. You felt at home when you were with them. You felt at home when you were with her.

Her being Alessia Russo.

You'd grown up with Alessia in the youth age groups but somehow, you'd never really spoken to her.

Sure you had spoken to her briefly after a match, telling her how well she had played but you couldn't remember a time where you'd spoken to her about anything apart from football.

You had always wanted to talk to her but you'd always change your mind at the last second. With your heart beating unusually fast and sweat gathering on your forehead, you'd figure that it wasn't worth it for you knew she didn't like you.

This time at camp though, you had made a promise to yourself. You were going to speak to Alessia.

And that's what you had done. Well, attempted to anyway.

Your heart had begun to thump in your chest as you watched her from across the relaxation room.

She was sat with Ella, laughing and smiling about whatever they were talking about.

You looked into her eyes. They were glistening in the light. They were perfect, just like her. You felt as though you could get lost in them forever.

As you continued to examine her features, you watched Tooney get up, leaving Alessia by herself.

At this point, it was just you, Alessia, Millie and Rachel in the room.

Millie and Rach were deep in conversation whilst Alessia had turned towards the match that was on the TV.

The smile that was on her face two minutes ago was gone. The glistening in her eyes had gone. It seemed as though you were looking at a completely different person.

You didn't know where the confidence had come from, but with one final breath, you stood up and moved to sit next to Alessia.

"You okay? You seem to be, I don't know how to describe it. Out of it?" You asked, a calming tone in your voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Alessia turned towards you, a small reassuring smile on her face.

The smile seemed to disappear far too quickly though.

"I know we don't really know each other well, but I'm always here, okay?" You tell her, placing your hand on the centre of her back.

"Thank you, Y/N." Again, she looked at you, giving you a small smile before turning her attention back to the match. "Actually, Y/N, can I tell you something?"

"Anything, Less."

"I feel-" She began but a strong accent cut her off.

"-Less, I went to get us a cuppa but there was a massive spider in the kitchen." Ella came bouncing into the room. You couldn't understand how she was so energetic. Everyone had done so much in training to the fact that some people were having an afternoon sleep, but Ella was still bouncing off the walls. "Sorry, were you two talking?"

"We were but it's nothing serious. I'll see you around, Y/N." Alessia said and you removed your hand from her back.

"Yeah, see you around." And with that, you got up and left, heading straight to your room.

You didn't feel like talking to anyone. You didn't even go down for dinner. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you forgot.

The sad look on Alessia's face clouded your head. The different possibilities of what she was going to say. The way the conversation would have gone if Tonney hadn't interrupted.

The thoughts wouldn't leave your mind.

That was until a small knock echoed throughout your room.

You got off your bed, quickly glancing at the clock that read 22:48, before opening the door.

You didn't really know who you were expecting to open the door to, but it certainly wasn't the blonde forward.

"Alessia?"

"Hi, sorry, I know it's late, but the conversation we had earlier hasn't left my mind and I feel like we need to finish it." She said rather quickly, scratching the back of neck as she said it.

"No it's okay. I can't get to sleep so it's fine. Come in." You opened the door more so she could walk in.

Once she had entered, you both stood awkwardly looking at each other.

"I don't really know why I came here. I just — you're different from everyone else. I feel like you'd actually listen to me. Actually, no, it's unfair for me to put this all on you. I'm sorry for com—" Alessia began to walk out but you grabbed ahold of her wrist, pulling her back towards you.

"—Alessia, I meant what I said earlier. I'm always here. If you want to talk, you can. I'm here to listen." You told her, rubbing your thumb across her hand to comfort her.

"I don't know how to describe how I feel. I just feel so alone. I feel empty. Since I left United, I've felt as though I've left my whole life behind. My life was in Manchester and I don't know if I'll be able to create a new life in London. It's such a big change and I don't know if I can do it. I just have no emotions that are good. I just want to feel something." Alessia admitted, tears running down her face as you brought her in for a hug.

"Oh, lessi. I promise you, you'll find a life in London. I did. I moved from Manchester city to Chelsea. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I'd been with city for four years and then I made the final decision and I restarted my whole entire life at Chelsea. It was so hard. So so hard. But I learnt to value the new beginning. It's gets better, I promise." You said to her, wiping her tears away.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"You've got such beautiful eyes, less." You complimented her, watching a small smile appear on her face.

"You've got a beautiful smile." She said back, similarly, a small smile appearing on your face, along with a red pigment in your cheeks.

"Alessia, you said you wanted to feel something. Would you feel something if I did this?" You asked, cautiously as you began to move towards her.

You got to the point where you could feel her breath on your face.

You made eyes contact with her before flickering down to her lips.

What surprised you the most, wasn't the fact that you were about to kiss Alessia. It was that Alessia had made the final movement to connect you two.

The kiss was gentle. Both too cautious to even move in case you overwhelmed one another.

You pulled away at the same time, smiles on both your faces.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time." Alessia admitted, your heart missing a beat as she said it.

"Me too." You agreed, pausing and taking a few breaths. "Alessia, I really like you and I don't want that to be a one off."

"I really like you too." She whispered against your lips.

This time the kiss was lustful. There was a sense of desperation from the both of you.

I mean who'd blame you? You and Alessia had been waiting for this moment for years.

The kiss continued, getting messy and sloppy.

Eventually, after fighting for dominance of the kiss, Alessia won and picked you up.

Your legs wrapped around her waist as her hands were under your thighs supporting you up.

She walked you up against the wall, moving her lips down to your neck.

The whines that left your mouth as she sucked on your pulse point made it clear to Alessia what you wanted.

"Can I take this off?" Alessia asked, putting you down and playing with the hem of your shirt.

"Yes please." You said, Alessia putting you down so she could take it off.

After a strip show of you both taking your clothes off, barely being able to take your lips off one another, you allowed Alessia to move her lips down to your collarbone.

"You're gorgeous, Y/N." Alessia whispered in your ear as she pressed a final kiss to your neck.

"So are you, lessi."

"I'm gonna pick you up, okay, baby?" Alessia asked you, her voice all husky.

You nodded in approval and she pressed two hands on your ass and lifted you up with ease.

She walked you over to the bed, putting you down gently before climbing on top of you.

"Lessi, baby, please." You whine as her hands explored your hips.

Her lips started trailing down from your neck to your torso.

You let out a gasp as you felt her mouth around your nipple.

As she continued down your body, she caressed every small detail of you.

Kissing scars from the injuries of past games, noting down where you enjoyed her mouth, memorising the small noises that left your mouth.

As Alessia approached your core, she looked up at you one more time.

Without her even saying anything, you understood what she meant and you sent a  desperate nod to her.

She grabbed ahold of your thighs, stroking her thumb across them before sliding her tongue between your folds.

You bucked your hips into her face and tangled your hand in her hair.

Alessia moaned at the taste of you, the vibrations making you whimper.

"That feels so good, lessi baby." You moaned and Alessia increased her pace.

You were so confused. Less than ten minutes ago, you were lost in your own thoughts. Thinking about what Alessia was going to say.

And now, she was here with her head in between your legs.

You couldn't think straight though, the pleasure had taken over your whole entire body.

You felt numb from it, a good numb.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close." You managed to get out as Alessia's tongue continued to flick at your clit.

Alessia detached her tongue from your clit, and instead stuck two fingers inside you.

"Does that feel good, baby?" She asked you, leaning down to kiss your collarbone.

"So good, lessi."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." She said and a familiar knot appeard in your stomach.

"Shit. 'm gonna cum, less."

"Cum for me, love." Alessia said and with that, your high came tumbling on you.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes slamming shut.

You felt your legs begin to shake and a mix of curse words and Alessia's name slipped out of your mouth.

Once you'd calmed down and your heart rate had started coming back to normal, Alessia laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She revealed, turning her head to look at you.

"Me too." You admitted, before the room was filled with silence.

A small giggle left your mouth and Alessia looked at you with a confused look.

"What are you laughing at, baby?"

"This. Ten minutes ago you were telling me how alone you felt and now you're laying down next to me after giving me a mind blowing orgasm." You explained and a smile appeared on Less' face.

"Thank you Y/N for taking my mind off of things."

"You seriously don't have to thank me. I think you already did." You replied, a smirk resting on your face before getting serious again. "Less, I know you might feel alone. But please know that you're not. I'm always here for you. I want to be there for you. I know it's not easy but I'll be with you wherever life takes you."

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? I'm sorry if it's really sudden but I feel like you're one of the only people who truly get me. You're kind, you're beautiful, you're thoughtful. And I think I've been in love with you for years but I've just been too afraid to ask you. It's fine if you say no. I know it's—" Alessia started to ramble but you simply smiled at her.

Her cheeks were red and her blonde hair was in her face.

You knew you were already in love with her. You had been for years.

"I'd love to, lessi." You placed a piece of her hair behind her ear and placed your lips on hers, connecting you two into a gently kiss.

"You know, I can't feel my legs." You told less as you pulled away.

"That's what you think about? We were having a really romantic moment then and all you can think about is how you can't feel your legs?" Alessia questioned, laughing at your randomness.

"Well yeah, we've got training tomorrow and it's gonna be bad if I turn up with loads of hickeys and the fact that I can't walk." You explained as she continued to laugh.

"I think it's a job well done to me then."

"It's sure is, baby."

[tariah23]

Like???

Again, the fact that Naoya has fans 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[summer-princess]

Far From Angry: Hardersson x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: You meet a stranger and her girlfriend at the bar. Things escalate quickly. Pairing: Hardersson x Reader Warnings: 🔞Smut. Mdni🔞 Disclaimer: Obviously fiction Words: 2778

Pt. 2

Ever since you entered the bar, the pretty blonde sitting a few stools away hadn’t taken her eyes off of you. 

You weren’t normally one for going out, especially without your friends, but the sound of music and unseasonably warm night air had drawn you out of your apartment, walking downtown to your favorite bar, ready to enjoy the evening. 

You were certainly enjoying the sight of the beautiful woman in the flowy white top, her sweet smile as she looked across the bar at you.

Her eyes didn’t leave you as she finished her drink, sliding her glass back across the bar. You blushed as she looked away, and you caught a hint of white teeth scraping across a pair of ruby lips. 

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, hoping you were interpreting her glances correctly, you hopped up from your stool and walked the few feet between you, hoping you looked more confident than you actually felt. As you sat down on the stool beside her, the pretty blonde tucked her hair behind her ears, turning her head to smile at you again. 

“Hi,” she said, and you caught the slightest hint of an accent, one you couldn’t quite place. 

“I’m Pernille,” she said, turning her stool to face you. She leaned forward, toward you, giving you the same  brilliant smile that had drawn you over in the first place.

You introduced yourself, pleasant shivers running up and down your spine as she made eye contact with you, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to continue.

“So, Pernille,” you said, matching her posture, hoping to convey just how interested you were in getting to know her and her pretty smile a whole lot better. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

Before she could answer, another blonde appeared over Pernille’s shoulder. Her hair was darker than Pernille’s, and the hand she put on Pernille’s shoulder was attached to a muscled arm.

“What’s going on over here, love?”

Love?

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head as you processed the words.

Love.

She had a girlfriend.

Of course she had a girlfriend.

As the other woman, just as blonde and just as gorgeous, claimed Pernille’s lips with her own, you felt a humiliated blush rising to coat your cheeks. 

You wished that someone would break one of the legs off of the barstool and beat you over the head with it. Or that a freak sinkhole would open beneath the floor, somehow burying only you in the dirt. Because this was beyond your worst nightmares. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, not sure which one of them you were talking to as apologies began to spew from between your lips. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean… Fuck, I’ll just-”

You made to stand up, charting the path that would get you to the exit quickest, but before you could make your escape, Pernille reached out and grabbed your hand, clasping it in hers. You let out a tiny gasp, still on your stool, at the contact, your eyes flickering back and forth between your skin touching hers and the woman whose hand had moved from her shoulder to her waist, possessively gripping her flowy white top.

“Don’t go,” she said, voice somewhere between a command and a plea. Even though your heart was racing, your legs longing to carry you far away, it was enough to make you pause.

You looked back and forth between Pernille and her partner, beyond confused. There had been no mistaking the look in your eyes as you approached her, or the undertones when you asked to buy her a drink. But there was also no mistaking the fact that she had a girlfriend, a very pretty and very strong looking girlfriend who had, out of some miracle, not yet put you on the ground. 

“B-But,” you stuttered, trying to make sense of the increasingly odd situation in which you found yourself. 

“Y-You, your girlfriend- She’s already angry enough at me, I-”

You didn’t have time to finish your runaway train of thought before you were unceremoniously interrupted. 

“Do I look angry?”

You didn’t think you could stand looking at Pernille’s girlfriend any longer without wanting to light yourself on fire, so you didn’t. Instead, you stared at your nearly-empty drink, trying to think of how to escape this humiliating and bizarre situation with some of your dignity still intact.

You didn’t see the look they gave each other, but you definitely felt it when a hand grasped your chin, forcing your head upward. A pair of blue eyes met yours, clouded by mirth and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your eyebrow crinkled in confusion at the absence of anything identifiable as anger, a confusion that only grew when she spoke again.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said. “Do I look angry?”

Answering wasn’t optional this time, you could tell. So, trembling a little, you shook your head.

“N-Not really.” 

“Clever girl.”

Her voice, smooth and seductive and just a bit condescending, hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through your body at the tone, from the tips of your fingers to between your legs. You quickly lowered your eyes again, hoping that she wouldn’t notice. 

The self-satisfied smirk on her face made it clear that your hopes were in vain.

“Magda, baby,” said Pernille, standing and taking her place at her partner’s side, tucking herself under the taller woman’s free arm. “I think she likes it when you talk to her like that.” 

Your mouth was slightly open, gaping in shock as you pressed your thighs together, unable to deny the arousal beginning to pool in your core. No matter how embarrassing Pernille’s words might have been, they were undeniable- the condescending tone of Magda’s voice made your mouth water, the need for the two of them to do what they wanted with you taking over your mind. 

“Oh, she’s so cute,” said Pernille, relishing the way you shuddered as she placed her hand on your thigh, fingers sliding upward and creeping closer to the hem of your panties under your new skirt. Magda nodded in agreement.

“Her face is all red,” she said, the two of them exchanging comments as if you couldn’t hear them speaking. You had an idea of where this was going, one that you desperately hoped was correct, and the thought of it made you press your thighs together with need. 

“I wonder what she’d look like all spread out on our bed.”

You gasped quietly, initial arousal only amplifying as they confirmed the thought that had been solidifying in your mind. With a squeeze of Pernille’s hand, Magda took a step forward towards you, her gaze piercing through you and making you whimper again. 

“Do you want this?”

Magda’s breath was hot against your neck as she whispered the question into your ear, and you were sure that she could hear your pulse pounding. 

You nodded so quickly that you could have given yourself whiplash, still gaping in disbelief even as she smirked, helping you to your feet and throwing a wad of cash behind her, payment for the drink you had tried to buy her girlfriend.  

This was actually happening. 

Their apartment was only a few blocks away from the bar, and when they guided you through the door, you had barely kicked off your shoes when you found yourself pressed against the wall by a pair of strong arms.

You hadn’t noticed Magda’s muscles back in the bar when you were refusing to look at her, but now that they were being used to pin you against the wall, they were difficult to ignore. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan, one which she immediately swallowed with her mouth. Magda’s tongue pressed insistently against your lips, and you didn’t waste any time before granting her access, letting her dominate the kiss. 

You weren’t normally this submissive- typically, you would have made at least a token effort to take back some control, but something about these women made that seem like a concept far too difficult and complex to grasp. So you let Magda devour your lips, her hands on your waist as you started to move again.

Guiding you backward into their bedroom, Magda’s hands migrated downward to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. You could vaguely sense Pernille nearby, a few steps ahead of you, but you couldn’t see the way she’d already shed her top, tossing it carelessly aside as she flicked on the light switch in their bedroom.

When Magda stopped moving, hands on your ass stilling you as well, you felt the other woman come up beside you, but still shivered when she whispered in your ear.

“You gonna do what we tell you, baby? You gonna be a good girl for us?”

The coaxing voice in your ear made you tilt your neck in the opposite direction, exposing the soft skin to Pernille as Magda broke your kiss, releasing you from her hold.

“Uh huh,” you said, and were rewarded by a new pair of warm lips pressed against your own. Pernille’s kiss was dirty and tender at the same time, her pink tongue gentler than Magda’s had been but with a similar level of control and the identical result of making you crave more of her touch. 

“Let us give you what you need, honey,” said Pernille, voice saccharine as she pulled away from your lips. “Let us fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

Your nod was desperate, her words only adding to the copious arousal between your thighs.

“Good. Then strip for us, pretty girl,” she whispered in your ear before releasing her hold on your body, raising an eyebrow and fixing you with a coaxing smirk.

Blinking a few times to regain even a modicum of composure, you blushed as you pulled your shirt over your head, both of the women’s eyes locked on you predatorily as you set the garment atop their wardrobe, revealing your lacy bra. 

“So pretty,” said Magda, as you reached for the hem of your skirt. You had to wiggle your hips to slide out of the slightly-too-small fabric, a sight which made both pairs of eyes locked on you darken, the couple exchanging a look full of hunger. When the garment finally dropped to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and matching panties, you looked back over at them and found the pair exchanging a heated kiss of their own. Sensing your gaze, Magda pulled away from Pernille’s lips to raise an eyebrow at you.

“All of it.”

Your flush deepened as you undid the clasp of your bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it join your skirt and top in the haphazard pile on the floor. With your breasts exposed to their hungry gaze and nipples beginning to harden, unprompted, into peaks, you reached for the waistband of your panties and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them when they pooled around your ankles. 

You had somehow missed Pernille approaching you, the lighter blonde woman reaching out a hand and slipping it between your legs. You gasped at the sudden contact, unable to stop your hips from jutting forward, seeking friction against your throbbing cunt. 

It only lasted for a moment before she turned her head back towards Magda, giving her a smirk and a nod.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You nodded quickly, scurrying across the room and seating yourself on the edge of their sizeable mattress. One look from Magda told you that that wasn’t what she had meant and so, still blushing, you laid yourself carefully back against one of their pillows, hyper-aware of their eyes on you, gazes locked on the curve of your breasts and the copious arousal gathered between your pretty thighs.

You could tell what the order of things would be when Pernille walked toward the edge of the bed, lingering beside you without sitting down, and Magda climbed up immediately, her large hands pulling you just slightly further forwards to where she wanted you. 

“Open your fucking legs.”

Magda’s words weren’t a request, but the order was one that you were all too happy to obey. Letting your thighs fall apart, you watched, unbreathing, as the other woman pulled a hair elastic from her wrist and tied her blonde waves up into a careless bun. 

Feeling the bed dip beside you, you heard Pernille’s voice against your neck as she left a trail of kisses across the sensitive skin. 

“Magda’s going to taste you now.”

Barely had the words left her mouth then Magda’s tongue connected with your core, the woman wasting no time before licking a wet stripe over your soaking hole. You gasped, fingernails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands tightly, and the sound must have pleased the other woman, because her soft chuckle vibrated against your core. 

She took a minute to explore, warm appendage tracing a path up and down your cunt, unmoved by your breathy pleas for her to go faster, or to put her mouth on the one place you needed it most. 

“Patience, honey,” crooned Pernille, noticing your gyrating hips. “Stay still. Let her enjoy you.”

You sobbed in pleasure as Magda’s tongue swiped through your pussy again and again, Pernille’s soft hands tugging at your nipples. The woman between your thighs was talented, the wet muscle of her mouth lapping and kissing all the right spots, finally running her tongue across your swollen clit, even letting a hint of teeth scrape across your thigh once in a while.

You couldn’t have closed your legs if you wanted to, a combination of Magda’s shoulders and her hands combining to hold them open.

“Stay still,” she reminded you with a gentle smack to one of your thighs.

Still, you couldn’t help but buck against her tongue, trying to get her mouth back on your clit.

“I told you to stay still,” said Magda with a growl, strong hands pushing your hips back down to the mattress.

A shudder ran up and down your body at her harsh tone. Pernille, you noticed, now had one hand on each of your tits, the strength in her arms a warning that, if you moved again, she wouldn’t hesitate to use that muscle to keep you pinned down with no choice except to take what her partner gave.

Your body shook with the effort of keeping still, of not allowing your hips to rock against Magda’s tongue, but you were rewarded by attention lavished on your bud, able to feel the other woman’s smile against your cunt.

You shuddered, feeling your muscles tighten as your peak began to grow closer. Apparently Magda could sense it as well, because she pulled her mouth away from you and reached for her girlfriend.

Pernille obeyed the summons, leaving you writhing on the bed, whining pathetically at the loss of contact as Magda pulled her in for a deep kiss. Your eyes went to the two women, unable to stop a groan as you watched them, Magda’s hands wrapped around Pernille’s waist as their tongues battled. As hot as the sight was, it only made you wetter as you realized that they were sharing the taste of you between them. 

Even through your haze, you knew that, no matter how desperate your cunt was for their attention, you couldn’t let your fingers drift down between your legs. They had made it clear since you met that they held the reins of control, that you were their plaything for the night.

“Pernille,” said Magda, rocking her hips subtly as Pernille pressed a line of wet kisses along her neck. 

“Look at her.”

Pernille’s eyes drifted back toward you, wriggling desperately on the bed, twisting your hands in their covers as you fought not to touch yourself. 

“God,” said Pernille. “She’s desperate, isn’t she?”

You made no move to deny her claim, rather nodding in confirmation. Any shock or disbelief you had felt at the situation you were in had certainly vanished, replaced with pure, undiluted need. 

“Please,” you whimpered, soaking pussy still perfectly visible between your spread legs. “Please, I need…”

You trailed off, the blush that was quickly becoming a familiar companion returning once again to your cheeks. Luckily for you, Pernille was able to translate the low moan which replaced the words you couldn’t find.

“I think she needs your cock, Magda.”

[cynicalrosebud]

Hello!! I saw your requests are open! So can I ask shy! civilian! reader x Soap (my fav), Ghost, Gaz and Price that reader is gun! nerd? Like reader knows weapons, very well since they play shooting games (only in single player), do research (especially in her novel because she wants to write gun fights.)

Tactical Observer

The rest of dear nonny's request was a separate ask so I'll add it below:

"Oh! I forgot to say by shy! civilian! gun nerd reader that they like to analyse and touch weapons, even if it's fake. But they prefer not shoot, they prefer to watch it."

Oh nonny, you are fueling my lifeblood. Wrote this shit in a coffee and frybread daze over the span of an hour.

Summary: Y/n, a quiet and reclusive civilian with an uncanny knowledge of firearms, is brought on as a consultant for Task Force 141. Her expertise, gained through research for her novel and a deep obsession with the mechanics of weapons, quickly captivates the team. Though she prefers to study and observe rather than engage in combat, her presence draws the attention of Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Price. Beneath the surface of their professional interactions, a deeper, more complex connection begins to form—one that transcends the battlefield. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the team isn't just fascinated by her skills—they’re enthralled by her. As the tension grows between them, Y/n finds herself pulled into an intricate, mysterious bond that leaves her both protected and adored by all four men.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Y/n had been minding her own business, walking through the quieter outskirts of the city, notebook in hand, jotting down ideas for her latest chapter. Her novel—an action thriller that involved military operations—required a lot of research, particularly about guns. Y/n spent hours reading up on weapon mechanics, loadouts, and modifications. It fascinated her, though she had never been one to actually shoot. She just liked knowing how it all worked.

But her peaceful research day turned into chaos when gunfire erupted nearby, throwing her into a situation she never expected. Ducking into an alley, her heart raced. She knew enough about firearms to recognize the sharp crack of an M4, followed by the deeper, heavier shots of AKs. This wasn’t just a random street brawl; it was organized and lethal.

Before she could react further, a strong hand grabbed her and pulled her behind cover. She yelped but quickly realized her rescuer was a soldier—decked out in gear, with a Scottish accent thick enough to cut through the noise.

“Gaz! Price! We’ve got a civilian!” Soap shouted into his comms as he shielded Y/n from the spray of bullets.

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed and shaken, clutching her notebook to her chest. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. She had written about these kinds of scenes, but experiencing it firsthand was a different story entirely.

Another soldier appeared, this one towering over her, his face obscured by a skull mask. Ghost. She recognized him from stories she’d read online, from the games she’d played, but seeing him in person was a different kind of intimidating.

“Who the hell are you?” Ghost’s voice was rough, filled with irritation but also concern. “And what the bloody hell are you doin’ here?”

“I-I was just… I’m just a writer,” Y/n stammered, clutching her notebook tighter. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stay low and don’t get in the way,” Ghost growled, helping her crouch down further. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Hours later, after a whirlwind of gunfire and chaos, Y/n found herself holed up in a safe house with the team of soldiers who had inadvertently rescued her. She was still processing everything that had happened, but her mind kept drifting to the weapons they carried. They were all so finely tuned, customized in ways that made her writer's brain buzz with excitement.

Soap, sitting nearby, noticed her staring at his rifle. He had seen that look before—usually in people who loved guns. He leaned back casually and grinned. “Yer eyes haven’t left that M4 since we got in here. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, eh?”

Y/n blushed, shifting awkwardly. “Oh, um… It’s just… It’s a really nice setup. You’ve got a Geissele MK8 rail and a Trijicon MRO optic, right? Solid choice.”

Soap blinked, a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to know her stuff. “You know your weapons, lass.”

She ducked her head shyly. “I’ve done a lot of research. For my book. I’m a writer,” she explained. “I do all this research on military operations and firearms because I want my novel to be as accurate as possible… but I don’t actually shoot. I just like knowing how it all works.”

Gaz, who had been cleaning his own weapon nearby, raised an eyebrow. “So, you know all this stuff, but you’ve never fired a gun?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “I prefer the research. Watching someone else handle a weapon is more interesting to me than pulling the trigger.”

Price, who had been listening from his spot by the window, chuckled. “That’s a first. Most people who know this much can’t wait to get their hands on the trigger.”

Y/n smiled nervously. “I just… like the mechanics, how everything fits together. It’s fascinating.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension easing. Soap watched her with a thoughtful grin, noting how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about weapons. He leaned in a little closer. “Yer somethin’ special, Y/n. No shame in that.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Soap’s playful charm was almost as dangerous as his gun skills.

Ghost, who had been standing silently nearby, finally spoke up. “Knowing is just as important as shooting. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Y/n looked up, surprised at his words. For a man who rarely spoke, his approval felt oddly reassuring.

Over the next few days, Y/n became an unexpected asset to the team. While she stayed far away from the firefights, her knowledge of weapons proved invaluable. When Gaz needed help adjusting his L85, Y/n suggested modifications that improved its handling. Even Price asked her for input on some of their loadouts.

“You ever think about joining the service?” Gaz asked one evening, adjusting his optic according to Y/n’s recommendations.

Y/n shook her head, laughing nervously. “No, definitely not. I’m just a writer. I like researching and imagining how things play out in stories.”

Gaz smiled. “Well, you’ve got a good eye, at least. Could’ve fooled me into thinking you were a professional.”

Y/n flushed with embarrassment, but a part of her felt proud. Being recognized for her knowledge was a new experience, and it felt… nice.

Soap had been watching them from across the room, his gaze lingering on Y/n a bit longer than usual. There was something endearing about her shy, awkward manner, and the way she came alive when talking about guns. He’d never met anyone quite like her.

“Oi, lass,” Soap called, walking over and resting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we grab some food after this? We’ve got time to kill.”

Y/n blinked up at him, surprised by the invitation. “Um… sure?”

His grin widened. “Good. I’ll even let you pick my brain about my rifle mods. Bet you’ve got some ideas.”

Y/n’s stomach fluttered. Was this Soap’s way of… flirting? She wasn’t sure, but the prospect of spending more time with him made her nerves buzz with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

As the team prepared for their next mission, Soap handed Y/n his rifle again, grinning as she took it into her hands.

“Take care of her for me while we’re gone,” he said softly, his tone more serious than usual.

Y/n nodded. “I will. Be careful, Soap.”

“Careful is my middle name, lass,” he replied, his smile softening as he glanced down at her. “And don’t miss me too much, aye?”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. “No promises.”

Price gave Soap a knowing look as they geared up. “Keep your head on straight, Sergeant.”

“Always do, sir,” Soap replied with a wink, though he couldn’t help the quick glance he shot Y/n’s way.

Ghost, watching the exchange in silence, pulled Y/n aside before they left. “You’ve got their attention,” he said quietly, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “But just so you know… we’re all watching out for you, too.”

Y/n looked up at Ghost, her heart fluttering. “Thank you, Ghost. I… appreciate it.”

Ghost gave her a small nod before rejoining the team. There was something almost protective in the way he spoke to her, and it left Y/n feeling a little less alone. Maybe it was more than just professional concern… she wasn’t sure.

When they returned, the 141 arrived to find their little civilian surrounded by sketches and pages on Soap's weapon of choice, crumpled ideas filling a small trash bin off to the side.

Soap raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You weren’t kiddin’, were ya? What’ve you got for me?”

Y/n hesitated for a moment before handing over the notebook. “Just some ideas… I thought the balance might be improved with a different stock. And maybe try swapping the optic for one with better peripheral vision…”

Soap whistled low. “You’ve got a sharp eye. I might just try these out.”

Price nodded approvingly as he glanced at the notes. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little armorer here.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at the compliment. “I’m just… happy to help.”

Y/n sat across from Soap, her fingers tracing the outlines of the modifications on his M4. She was shy, but Soap had a way of coaxing her out of her shell. As she explained her thoughts on the mechanics, Soap leaned in a bit closer, his gaze softening as he watched her talk. He wasn’t just listening to her words anymore—he was captivated by her passion.

“Y’know, lass,” Soap said quietly, his Scottish lilt more pronounced as he leaned even closer, “you’re somethin’ else. Never met anyone who could talk about guns like this and make it sound… beautiful.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, and her voice faltered for a moment. Soap wasn’t shy about his interest—there was a hint of playfulness in his smile, but something more genuine in his eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something soft, affectionate even. And for a moment, Y/n wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this connection than just professional respect.

Gaz noticed the exchange, nudging Soap with a knowing grin. “Careful, mate. Looks like someone’s got their sights set on you.”

Soap chuckled, his eyes still on Y/n. “Wouldn’t mind if she did.”

Y/n found herself spending more time with Gaz as he tinkered with his weapons. He appreciated her insights and enjoyed the quiet moments they shared as she worked beside him.

Gaz would often lean in just a little too close, their shoulders brushing, or he’d offer her a smile that lingered just a bit too long. One evening, as they worked on his rifle together, Gaz’s hand accidentally brushed against hers. Instead of pulling away, he let his fingers linger, his warm touch sending a tingle through her skin.

“You’re really somethin’, Y/n,” he murmured softly. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. There was a warmth in his gaze that made her feel safe… and something more.

Soap had been openly playful with Y/n, but Ghost had always been more guarded. Still, Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes followed her when he thought no one was looking, or how he’d linger near her after missions, checking in on her quietly. One evening, when the team returned from a particularly rough mission, Ghost approached Y/n while the others celebrated. He didn’t say much, but his presence alone was enough to make her heart race.

“You did good today,” Ghost said in that deep, gravelly voice of his. “You’ve been lookin’ after us. Makes me want to do the same for you.”

Y/n looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. For a man who rarely showed emotion, Ghost’s words felt like a confession of sorts.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I… I feel the same.”

Ghost’s hand brushed her arm—just a brief touch, but enough to send a shiver through her. There was something protective in the way he hovered nearby, as though he was guarding more than just the team’s safety.

As the team geared up for their next mission, Y/n found herself spending time with Price. The captain had always been a calming presence, his steady demeanor keeping her grounded when things got overwhelming. He’d started inviting her to have tea with him during quiet moments between missions, and Y/n found comfort in those simple, peaceful interactions.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day, Price handed her a cup of tea, his fingers brushing against hers as she took it. His touch lingered, and Y/n looked up, catching the warmth in his eyes.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Y/n,” Price said softly. “You’ve got a sharp mind, a good heart… and I reckon there’s not a man in this team who doesn’t see it.”

Y/n blushed, her heart fluttering as Price’s words settled over her. He was always so composed, so calm, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze tonight.

“I… I’ve never met anyone like you either, Captain,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Price’s hand found hers, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in a tender gesture. “John,” he corrected gently. “Call me John.”

The bonds between Y/n and the members of Task Force 141 had been growing stronger every day, but as time passed, the affection each man held for her became undeniable. They had all noticed the way they each gravitated toward her—the protective glances, the subtle touches, the playful teasing that always ended with Y/n blushing. None of them felt jealousy; instead, they shared a sense of understanding that their love for her wasn’t something that needed to be exclusive.

One evening, after another long day of planning and preparation, the team sat around a campfire, Y/n nestled comfortably between them. Ghost sat beside her, his large hand resting gently on her thigh, while Soap leaned against her shoulder, his arm draped around her waist. Gaz sat across from them, his gaze warm as he watched her, and Price, always calm and collected, looked at her with a fondness that had grown over time.

Y/n felt the tension in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they were all waiting for something to be said, some unspoken truth to be acknowledged. Finally, Soap was the one to break the silence.

“Lass,” he began, his voice unusually soft, “we’ve all been dancin’ around this for a while now. It’s clear we all care about you—more than just mates, if you know what I mean.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked around the fire, meeting each man’s gaze in turn. They were all watching her, waiting for her response, but there was no pressure in their eyes. Only love and patience.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly. “I… I care about all of you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But how… I mean, is this even possible?”

Price smiled, the kind of smile that always put her at ease. “It’s possible if we make it so,” he said gently. “We’ve all had a talk, and none of us want to hold you back or keep you from anyone else. If this is what you want, we’ll figure it out together.”

Ghost’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, his gaze dark and protective. “We’ll take care of you, Y/n,” he murmured. “All of us.”

Gaz nodded, his usual playful demeanor softened by the seriousness of the moment. “You don’t have to choose between us. We’re in this together, yeah?”

Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes, but they weren’t from sadness or confusion—they were from relief. She had never imagined that the people she had grown so close to could share their love so openly, without jealousy or resentment. It was a kind of love she had never known, but one she had always craved.

“I… I want this,” she said finally, her voice stronger now. “I want all of you.”

As time went on, the team found their rhythm. They took turns spending time with Y/n—sometimes individually, sometimes together. There was no need for jealousy or competition, because they all knew that Y/n loved them equally, and they loved both her and each other in return. The dynamic was based on mutual respect, love, and understanding.

When they were on missions, they worked seamlessly together, their bond only strengthening their performance in the field. Back at base, they shared moments of intimacy and laughter, knowing that their love for Y/n—and for each other—was something rare and beautiful.

Y/n had never felt so loved or accepted. Each of them brought something different to her life, and together, they completed her in ways she had never imagined possible. And in return, she gave them her heart, her trust, and her love—knowing that, together, they were unstoppable.