#soap usually helps out with the fixing but he's out on a date with his ugly ass skullhead bf //affectionate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fuctacles · 2 months ago

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Small World

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

@genderthings Stobin at Work: custodians T | 771 | Hellcheer, Stobin, one-sided Steddie and Buckingham | Hellcheer's POV, pining, Stobin sharing a braincell, Humor, Everybody Lives AU, banter

Life is good. Everyone is alive and well, escaping Vecna with only minor injuries. And now Eddie and his best friend Chrissy, safe and sound, can focus on the mundane things in life once again. Like evading their gay crushes as they try to figure out their sexualities and not make a complete stuttering idiots out of themselves.

It seems simple, at first--ask the boys of Corroded Coffin to rent movies for them so they can avoid Family Video, or just keep up to date with what's currently showing.

It's at one of the latter instances when they first learn how difficult it could be to actually avoid them.

They're at the late night screening of some hyped up thriller. On a weekday, there were barely any people at the cinema, and Eddie was taking advantage of it by having his legs thrown over the backrest in front of him. The lights are already back on and Chrissy is ready to leave, but she settles in to wait him out--he's a firm believer of having his money's worth and he's paid for the whole movie, end credits included.

The employees usually hate him for it, but worst case scenario they'll start cleaning everywhere around and get to his seat last. But it's not like they come in vacuums blasting as soon as the lights are on.

Well, unless it's a weekday and there are literally just two assholes between them and going home.

"Hey man, could you put your feet down?"

Eddie almost falls on his ass in his haste to fix his position. Because he knows that voice.

He cranes his neck to see down the row of seats, where an unimpressed figure stands with a broom in one hand, the other one resting on his hip.

"Steve?" he asks, unwilling to believe his eyes.

"Yeah, don't get so excited." Steve rolls his eyes in that bitchy ways of his. And then he's walking down the aisle towards them, so Eddie straightens himself up. Chrissy throws him a judgmental look, but is otherwise occupied looking for her own kryptonite, undoubtedly hiding nearby.

Now that he can see him better, he can tell Steve is wearing a shirt in cinema's signature colors, thrown haphazardly over his civilian clothes.

"Don't you work at Family Video?" he blurts out.

Steve shrugs, stopping next to them and leaning against one of the seats. He finally seems to spot Chrissy, giving her a small finger wave.

"Hi, Chris. Robin is right behind, had an accident with a butter nozzle," he tells her, because her looking was not subtle in the slightest. Then he turns back to Eddie. "Well, they've cut our hours so we're looking for extra gigs."

Before Eddie can ask any extra questions, there's a clatter at the entrance, followed by a sound of distress.

"Steve! Everything is buttery!"

Steve sighs, turning around.

"I told you to use the paper towels. And the dish soap. You said you had this!"

"Well, I don't!" Robin pointedly waves her hands around, shiny with, presumably, butter residue. "I had to touch the doorknobs and the sink and the soap bottle and now everything--! Oh, hi, Chrissy!"

Chrissy waves at her, stunned.

"Well, sorry to interrupt your chit-chat but I really need Steve to be doing his job right now."

"I am!" he pointedly waves his broom around. "And what are you doing? Adding more job to our job!"

"It was not my intention! Now come help me, it's an all hands on deck situation!"

"It will be an all hands situation when we clean yours from grease!" He sighs, leaning the broom against the wall. "Sorry guys, we'll talk some other time." He smiles apologetically to their friends while trying to dodge the hands trying to oil up his face and hair. "You okay to see yourself out?"

That's a weird question. Eddie has been to the movies enough times to know his way around, and the doors stay open until the last screening is over.

The credits are still rolling, but he nods his head.

"Sure, don't worry about us Steve-o." Eddie hastily stands up, pulling Chrissy along. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Bye Chrissy, bye Eddie!" Robin yells as she's pulled into the dark depths of cinema corridors by her wrists.

"Bye guys!"

"Bye Buckley!"

"Good luck with the butter!"

Once safely outside, they scream into the dark night sky.

"Nowhere is safe," Eddie sighs, looking at the joke of a universe spreading above him.

"Not anymore," Chrissy sighs along.

"Let's just grab a TV guide on the way back."

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bunnyreaper · 2 years ago

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merrier the more

pairing - john price x f!reader x john mactavish

wc - 3.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, double vaginal penetration, wife sharing, unprotected sex

notes - after a million years i've finally gotten this out of my brain and written out! underrated threesome imo, lets goooo!! proofread but definitely not enough ♥

Thursdays were date nights, almost every week without fail, unless John was on a mission. Even when paperwork keeps him tied to his desk into the dark of the night, you join him in his office with takeout and a good book, content to enjoy his company in silence.

It was one of the keys to your marriage being as successful as it is, and both you and John agreed—quality time was a must.

This Thursday was a break in routine—John's energy has been decidedly different since you stepped foot in his office. He's always a little on edge when you see him at work, his jaw and shoulders tight, but tonight there's a hint of determination in his eyes.

Captain Price is present, rather than your husband, John.

The second difference comes in the form of a knock on the door, usually, the two of you go undisturbed as your standing date is known among the 141, and none of the men dare interrupt and draw their captain's ire. On the rare occasion that a knock would come, words would be exchanged quickly before being dismissed.

Tonight, John invites the guest inside.

"Sit, Soap." John commands, his voice low and dripping with authority in a way that draws your attention.

The younger man complies, seemingly not on edge—his usual cocky confidence is still in full swing, in defiance of your expectations of the situation. Whatever Johnny is here for, he's not to be reprimanded or to report something grim.

Both men's eyes are firmly fixed on you, gazes roaming over the way you lounge in your pretty dress on John's shitty office couch, your legs exposed to both of them.

"C'mere love," John speaks, rolling back his office chair and patting his thigh temptingly. "Need your help with something."

You rise uncertainty, leaving your book behind as you make your way over to your husband, your eyes darting between him and his subordinate. Neither man says a word, just continuing to watch you as you move closer to them.

Your mind starts to race, thinking of just what John could possibly need your help with. Occasionally, he asks you to read one of his men's imperceptible handwriting or gets into a debate with you about whether his own reports make grammatical sense.

Something tells you neither is the case this time.

When you make your way around the desk, you fall into John's lap obediently, facing away from him and watching Johnny watch you.

The look in his eyes is not something you're blind to, not now, not ever. John MacTavish has always wanted you. John Price has never let you forget it—he's teased you multiple times about his soldier's crush, and made you admit while being fucked mindless to being attracted to the younger man too.

Your husband got off on knowing his power, knowing that you belong to him regardless of Johnny or any other man's wishes, and knowing that while your eyes can still appreciate other men, they'll never be enough compared to Price himself.

You sit patiently and wait, deferring to John and his air of authority as you wait for him to speak whenever he is good and ready. The silence is thick, John's paw trailing across your thigh, up to your waist where he holds you still, his grip insistent.

"Sergeant MacTavish here is about to become a Lieutenant." He begins again, graveled voice now right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "If Soap is getting a promotion, I need to know he can get the job done."

John snaps his fingers at the Sergeant, beckoning him around the desk as John spins you both to face where Johnny is now standing. His hands move back down your body to your thighs, parting your legs slightly by opening his own so that you sit spread.

You know exactly where this is headed. Johnny's azure eyes burn into you as they spectate every single one of John's slow, luxurious movements—touches that slowly begin to undo you. The air in the room thickens, and your skin burns under John's fingers.

Johnny's eyes flicker away, and you can tell the captain is holding his gaze.

"Need to know I can depend on him, and that he can do what he needs." He purrs, his tone filled with intent. "That he'll take what he wants, yeah?"

John pulls up the hem of your dress, exposing your now-soaked panties to his sergeant and delighting in the way you both shiver in response—you from being exposed, Johnny from finally getting to lay eyes on intimate parts he'd only dreamed of.

You stay obediently frozen as John teases you further—the whiskers of his beard tickling at your neck as he smirks, his fingers stroking so softly up your inner thighs.

When you look back and catch Johnny looking you right in the eye, you swear you can feel yourself gush—he looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"He's always wanted you, love. Isn't that right, sergeant?"

"Yes, sir." Johnny agrees so eagerly, but the look he sends your way is anything but submissive. His grin is almost predatory, his anticipation and arousal clear after years of lusting after you from afar.

Johnny finally comes closer, his hands settling on the arms of John's chair as his face stops inches away from your face—hot breath sweeping over your features. One hand moves to clutch at your jaw, demanding your attention as if it wasn't already entirely focused on him. "Tonight, you're mine."

He growls the words before diving in for a searing kiss, his actions rough and hungry, bordering on violently enthusiastic. His stubble is so different from John's softer brush, nipping at your sensitive skin.

"Only for tonight, MacTavish." Your husband growls from behind you, pulling your hips back into his hard cock as a reminder. He might be sharing you, but it's just this once. You'll always be his.

As Johnny kisses you fervently, his hands begin to wander too, groping at your tits as John continues to hold you steady as he works his erection into your ass. While the sergeant occupies your mouth, John sucks kisses into your neck, humming at the feel of you falling apart under both men's touches.

You gather just enough strength to surface for breath—panting and shaken under their joint attention. Neither of them shows signs of stopping. While your husband was offering you to another man, he wasn't going to sit back and watch either.

"Both of you?" You gasp, words unsteady and breathless. Handling John under normal circumstances was hard enough, throwing Johnny into the mix might just break you.

You shiver with need as the men share a laugh, and John's hand slips up to embrace the column of your neck. "Someone has to show him how to do it, love."

The two men dive back into making you fall apart, a flurry of lips and hands tearing you apart at the seams and driving you mindless with each touch.

"Fuuuck." Johnny practically whines, his hands falling to grope at your tits and pull them free out of the top of your dress.

His hands are calloused and warm in a familiar way, but his movements are quick and rough and make you squirm under his touch. The two sets of hands on you are almost too much already, as well as John's erection rubbing against your core.

A quick flicker of your gaze to the sergeant's jeans shows he's similarly affected, and the sight of his hard cock straining against the denim has you wanting.

It's hard to think straight with every sensation you feel, every thought consumed by the two men ravaging you—yet your mind flickers back to the conversation you and John had months ago now, the one where he mentioned sharing you.

You turn your head to the side, snuggling into your husband's cheek as you whisper to him. "I always thought it'd be—"

He interrupts you with a greedy kiss, before freeing you to continue speaking. "—Simon, if you ever actually went through with this..."

You sigh through your words, Johnny almost biting at you when he hears the other man's name fall from your lips.

The truth is, you had thought it'd be Simon that John invited into the bedroom first, as his trusted right hand and someone he knew would be discreet. Clearly, though, your husband had been paying more attention to your soft spot for the sergeant than you thought.

How long had he been concocting this plan? Waiting for the opportunity to have you at Johnny's mercy too.

Said man's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to the smirk on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me yer disappointed, bonnie."

You can tell from the way his voice drips with amusement that he knows you're anything but. The easy confidence has always been part of his charm, but as he toys with your breasts and stares down at you expectantly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you—that confidence feels like lightning down your spine.

"Far from it, Johnny." You whisper, finally taking an action of your own and pulling the man in for another kiss. It's sloppy and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips, but Johnny's mouth tastes so good, and his need is evident in every single brush of him against you.

His hands climb to cup your jaw, holding you exactly as he wants you as his tongue explores your mouth and dances with yours—it's dirty the way he kisses, the way he groans into your mouth as you thread your fingers into his mohawk, the way he swallows your own moans as John bucks up from below you.

Johnny pulls away, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours and holds you in a tender moment. "Ye must have a thing for blue eyes, aye?" He smirks once more, and you wish you could protest, but the sparkling blues had been what captured your attention first about both men.

One set belonging to the man that you married, one set belonging to the man you'll now get to fuck.

The blue eyes before you flicker down, breaking the connection as his hands wander lower—down past your breasts, brushing past your husband's on their way to your thighs. He grasps greedily at your softness, kneading his touch into your skin as he parts your thighs, exposing your soaked panties to his burning gaze.

"'m gonna touch that little kitty of yours now." He purrs, his curled finger brushing across your sensitive inner thighs in a way that makes your legs squirm—even more so when he traces up the hem of your panties.

"Didn't say you could, MacTavish." Your husband all but growls, his usual authority bursting through him.

Johnny ignores his captain entirely, his fingers pushing your panties aside to plunge deep into your weeping cunt—he curls them against your walls, a wolfish smirk directed at you, watching you flail as he continues to disregard John's words in favour of driving you crazy.

"Don't remember asking, captain." He snarls in response, taking control.

The sound of your cunt getting ravished by Johnny's fingers fills the room, drawing sweet whines out of you. One hand works to find the best angle to scrape against your spongy walls, his other coming to replace John's as he holds your neck and stares you down.

You feel a shift, a moment where Johnny's attitude changes from cocky confidence to earned authority, him taking encouragement from the way you fall apart under his touch and writhe in the lap of your husband who isn't currently the cause of your pleasure. It has Johnny soaring, and you can tell he's falling into the new headspace with ease.

"He's a quick study, John." You whisper.

"Clothes off, yeah, lass?" Johnny tugs you to your feet, holding you steady in his arms for a moment before he eagerly strips you off your clothes.

Your dress comes off first, revealing your tits hanging out of the cups of your bra, and the way your panties settle on your hips, digging into your skin. Johnny's hands move to roam over each piece of your exposed body, kneading and admiring, his eyes ablaze like the hottest part of a flame.

Then he works to rip off your underwear, leaving you bare before both men. "Fuckin' hell don't know how you tear yerself away from her."

"Feels impossible some days." John purrs as he stands from his chair, paws falling to your waist once more.

Both men grope at you—Soap pulling you in for another kiss, John nibbling at your neck. Your legs almost give out from beneath you, and you know you'd be so unsteady were it not for being pinned between the two men's bodies.

It's overwhelming. John on his own is enough to bring you to your knees, but him and Johnny, with his blessing? Each touch, each kiss has you whining—high-pitched and almost brainless as your mind fizzles with pleasure.

Johnny holds you close, pressing his solid body against yours—rough fabric and a hard cock against soft skin. He watches your expression as his fingers dip back into your soaked folds, as your husband's fingers roam over your ass and into your hole. The two men work in tandem to reduce you to a quivering mess, vicious fingers making you drip down their hands and your own thighs.

Johnny flicks your clit absentmindedly as his other hand moves to work on freeing himself from his jeans, pushing his boxers aside to reveal a long, slender, leaking cock.

"Wow, bonnie girl. Yer that excited for me? Or dae ye just really like yer husband sharing ye?" He purrs as he strokes his length languidly, teasing you with the sight of his pre-cum leaking down the head, as well as the way he squeezes his member.

You laugh breathlessly, unable to summon a real response until the men's fingers still inside you. "We'll see... how you fuck first, sergeant. Don't let me down."

Both men share a chuckle, but Johnny is the first to act, with strong hands wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you into the air.

Johnny gives you a devilish smirk as he hovers you inches away from his cock. "I never back down from a challenge, lass."

He eases into you slowly, lowering you down and stretching you on his length, each delicious inch pushing its way inside in an almost torturous way. He’s not as thick as your husband, but he might just be longer, as he finally seats himself inside and the tip of his cock bullies your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck." The sigh that releases from you is beyond shaky, betraying the deep effect Johnny’s cock has on you. "So deep."

"He feel good, love?" John asks, stepping up behind you, his voice close to your ear and his hands guiding you up and down the other man’s cock.

"Y-yeah."

He clicks his tongue in approval, speaking again with honeyed words that make you keen. "Good girl, keep taking him for me."

John mostly watches, his hands remaining on you, yet passive, as Johnny starts to move. The younger man thrusts with fervour, bouncing you onto his dick over and over and over again, not satisfied until he has you crying out for more and babbling.

Johnny certainly knows how to move his hips, knows how to fuck—he eases off the second you show any discomfort, and is quick to learn the exact pace and motion that makes you moan the loudest. If you could think straight, you’d wonder if John had already given him strict instructions on exactly how to fuck you. Of course, he’d have planned this to a T.

Your nails scrape up Johnny’s muscled back, clinging to him desperately as he continues to shove his cock into your wet hole, as John’s hand snakes around your waist to toy with your clit. Both men are clearly intent on ruining you. Your insides twist, your head falling back into your husband's chest as you just feel.

Johnny’s hips abruptly stop, buried deep inside you in a way that blanks out all your thoughts. "Need your help, captain." He grumbles over your shoulder.

"What with?"

"Think she needs her husband's cock inside her too. Stuff tha' pretty cunt completely full, yeah, bonnie?" Johnny raises a brow at his captain, waiting for the man to make a move.

Each second drags as your husband considers the situation and you're left needy and waiting, Johnny's hips entirely still—John's hands on you inactive too.

The idea of being stretched by both of them at the same time sends you wild, two gorgeous cocks stuffing your hole full.

"Please, John." You start to babble, unable to control your own pleas. "Need you both, need you both, need—"

John's cock slides between your ass, nudging forward until he knocks against where Johnny is buried inside you. The sensation on its own has both you and Johnny bucking.

"That kind of thinking'll take you far, sergeant," John whispers before his fingers crawl down your skin to where you and Johnny are connected, and he starts to guide the head of his cock into your hole. "Shhh, nice and slow, gotta stretch you out for both of us, love."

“Gonna be a tight squeeze, bonnie.” Johnny mutters, his voice showing signs of further strain as his captain’s cock rubs against him.

The stretch is painful, John’s girthy cock bullying its way inside and forcing you to accommodate him alongside the sergeant—you know you won’t be sitting right anytime soon, and you couldn’t be happier.

Your hole burns with each inch your husband slides in, pleasure only beginning to come when his head brushes against your g-spot—after that, he slips right in, your cunt reshaping itself in acceptance and swallowing his cock.

"Fuck.” You pant, barely able to catch your breath, and no one has even moved yet. You can’t think straight, can’t breathe right, can’t even really contemplate the way your body is being overwhelmed by the two men. All you can do is whine and moan and cry out. "It's too much!"

John holds your hips steady as he presses kisses to your shoulder, and Johnny runs a hand through your hair—both men cooing reassurances at you.

"Ye can take it, fer me and the captain. I know ya can."

“You can do the work, sergeant, make her feel good, yeah?”

Johnny nods once before springing into action, his cock gliding out of your pussy before forcing its way back in, squelching against John’s length as it goes and drawing groans from both men.

It doesn’t take long Johnny's pace to escalate, as he shoves in repeatedly and thrusts both his own and John’s cock deeper inside you. You feel your brain slip into a haze of pleasure, all thoughts becoming incoherent as moan after moan makes its way from your throat.

"There we go, love. Stuffed full of two cocks, how'd you like it?" Your husband asks before turning your head to face him, and then devouring your lips in a passionate, loving kiss.

"Love it, love it so much." You whisper against him. "Fuck me, John, Johnny, please."

The two men thrust together momentarily, forcing you to the limit of what you can take from both of them—smirks dance across their faces, both beyond pleased to have you pinned between them.

"Cannae wait until we're both filling ye with our cum." Johnny purrs as he buries himself deep.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, gorgeous girl?"

#soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader x john mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish #price x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #captain john price #john price #bunny writes #god i want them both SO bad

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redtsundere-writes · 4 months ago

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Date 4. Running

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

Beginning. 🡨 Previous | Next 🡪

Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

Word Count: 3756 words.

TW: MDNI. +18. Self-harm. Smut. Possessiveness and Jealousy.

“Holy shit,” you huffed, dropping the weights after a deadlift. Out of all the exercises, you hated lifting weights. It was always an uncomfortable experience not being one of the strongest on the team, but you still had to include it in your training. More than strength, it improved your grip, which is sometimes all it takes to save a life.

Your headphones played your favorite song as you massaged your finger joints in a short break. The gym was packed with soldiers, but you could still spot Soap approaching you with his typical contagious energy. Even though he had given you a bad feeling when you met him a year ago, you now considered him a good coworker. You paused the music as you realized he wanted to talk to you as usual.

“Are you done with your routine?” Soap asked you with that suggestive tone that characterized him, you no longer knew if it was on purpose or if he really talks like that.

“I’m done after some reps, why?”

“I was just thinking about you… And me… Some cardio.” Soap raised an eyebrow, emphasizing the last word.

“In your bed or mine?” You played along, already used to his attempts to sleep with you.

“Mine. I don’t want to bother LT.” Soap answered with a mischievous smile, humping the air and making bed sounds. You rolled your eyes and pushed him to shut up.

“Wait for me outside,” you said with a smile.

Soap laughed, but he listened to you. This was already part of your daily routine. You would train separately and then go out for a run around the base as a final cardio. You shook your head at his attempt at flirting as you took the bandages off your hands. Even though you had already rejected him on several occasions, the guy was still trying to win you over. You thought that was kind of adorable.

Ghost had watched the entire interaction like a curious hawk from across the gym, where he was doing backstroke on one of the machines. He tightened his grip on the rope that connected to the weights as he watched you fix your hair in front of the mirror before following his coworker. Why did you care about your appearance out of nowhere? Did you even like Soap? He knew how the saying went: Behind every joke there is some true. Price, who was nearby, saw how the lieutenant stopped in the middle of the exercise to focus on you. Today he was in the mood to tease the lieutenant.

“I’m glad those two are getting along now,” Price commented, bringing Ghost out of his thoughts.

“Ah… Yes,” he replied dryly, clearing his throat. “Interesting answer,” the captain thought.

“They work very well together, too,” Price pressed on the wound.

Ghost remained silent. You really could work with anyone, as you were excellent at teamwork. Even though you weren't as strong as the rest of the men on the 141, you had great reflexes and worked better under pressure. In your time on the task force, you had gotten into the swing of things pretty well. However, that didn't mean he'd like to see you flirt so blatantly with MacTavish.

“You like her, don't you?” Price concluded at his silence.

Ghost's eyes widened as he realized his own feelings. After spending the whole year together as your supervisor, the fact that you cared about him, that he felt at peace when you were alone, or that he loved the way you made tea, wasn't because of something platonic. It was because of something more. From that to him admitting it, that was a different story.

“Nothing to see, Captain,” Ghost replied reluctantly, leaving the machine to go to the weight area he had recently abandoned.

Price couldn’t help but giggle as soon as he left. He had seen this a thousand times in the military. Two lovebirds ignoring their feelings in the name of “professionalism.” Price knew the consequences of having accepted you into the 141st. He knew his men, many looked at you with interested eyes as you were one of the few women on the base, but Ghost’s eyes shone more. If he didn’t do something soon, this was going to get interesting.

Ghost moved his foot anxiously. He tried to fall asleep, but his knuckles itched to be destroyed again. It had been almost a month since he had last taken out his resentment on a punching bag. His foot moved harder, to the point that it shook the bunk a little.

“Psst.”

Ghost opened his eyes and saw your head peeking out of the bunk bed like a little bat hanging from a tree branch.

“One of those nights?” You whispered. Ghost just nodded.

You both left the building. It was one of those classic nights in England, cold and full of mystery. The clouds were so heavy that there weren’t any stars in sight. The mist infiltrated the air. You closed your hoodie and put on your hod. Ghost, like a good Brit, was only wearing a gray shirt as if it were a quiet summer night.

“Well, cleaning doesn’t work in the long term and eating out of anxiety isn’t the best option either.” You sighed, disappointed that your first attempts to get Ghost to stop self-harming had partially failed. “I was reading about self-harm and experts say…”

You couldn’t see it, but Ghost was smiling under his balaclava as you explained what you had researched on the subject. It was nice to see you giving your best effort to help him, even if it negatively affected your routine. That smile faded as guilt settled over his chest. You should be asleep under the warmth of your butterfly blanket, not awake in the middle of the cold morning. You didn't deserve to have such an incompetent supervisor like him.

“So I thought: What's the closest thing to destroying your fingers but without causing physical pain? Running. That will tire your body out so you can sleep easily,” you explained proudly, warming up your muscles.

It was worth a try. Ghost just had to find a way for him to avoid self-harm without depending on you and running seemed like a good idea. After stretching, Ghost started jogging and you followed behind him. You sometimes envied his physique. He had everything you didn't, the ideal body of a soldier. Tall, wide, strong, a big butt. He was good at everything too. Spying, interrogation, hand-to-hand combat, use of firearms of all calibers. You shook your head to focus again on following his burly back. You were still a bit tired from running all over the base with Soap earlier that day, but you were sure you could keep up with him if you took it easy.

It had started out well. You both jogged through the empty streets, following the white streetlights. The cold seeped into your lungs. You both quickened your pace once your bodies got used to the activity. Right, left, right, left in a loop. A small drop of water landed on your head. You stopped and held out your hand, sure enough, it was about to start raining. You should have checked the weather forecast before you left.

“Hey, Ghost, I think we should head back,” you said, but it seemed like he didn’t hear you as he kept running. “Ghost?” You called out to him again, confused as you watched him walk away at a faster pace than you were going.

The drops began to fall slowly, a countdown before the deluge. You had nothing to protect you from the rain. If you didn't go back, the chances of getting sick were high. The lieutenant kept running on his own. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You ran after him when your intuition told you to go back to base, but you would never leave a soldier behind. Your legs hurt, but you had to get him back to the dorms.

“Ghost!”

“Simon!” His father shouted at him.

He was barely 12 years old, that age. A complicated stage for anyone. His emotions were on the tightrope, his mind was in chaos, and he wanted to jerk off all day like any teenager. Simon was an ordinary boy with tastes and dreams, only he had a terrible father.

A violent drunk, a stinky smoker and a man stressed after the death of his wife. He was obsessed with his children being strong and big, so he beat them often and forced them to do dangerous challenges like kissing snakes to build their character. Being the oldest, Simon was the one who received the most beatings, but he was also the one who had to beat his father to exhaustion. He would do anything to survive in his own home.

He was 12 years old when his father decided to take him to a concert of the band where he used to play, Bone Lickers. He had blocked out most of that night, but he remembers the multicolored lights, the disgusting smell of alcoholic vomit, and feeling his eardrums about to burst for the first time. He was alone in the middle of the audience. While everyone was dancing like idiots, hitting each other in the mosh pit, or singing the lyrics until their vocal cords were destroyed, Simon was lost in the artistic disaster.

That was when Simon made the worst decision of his life: to look for his father. He opened a door and surprise! His father was fucking a prostitute who was more dead than alive due to an overdose. If a tree falls in the middle of the forest, but no one hears it, did the tree really fall? He still didn't know the answer, but he was sure that the prostitute was real when she fell dead at his feet. The screams of his furious father faded into the background while his mind still tried to understand that he had a corpse in front of him. It took him years to realize that the first death he saw in his life had been caused by his father.

“Simon!” That was the only warning he needed to know he had to escape.

The rain suddenly enveloped him as he left the compound. He ran through the streets, but he had no destination. His father shouted his name over and over again in an attempt to stop him, but he would never stop voluntarily. His breathing was labored, his breath hot against the cold Manchester weather and his steps were wet but fast. His legs were beginning to tire as he ran through the paved streets of his city.

In search of shelter, he entered an unknown street. Terrible mistake. It was a dead end. Before he could change course, his father, drunk and drugged, was already on his way. His heart pumped panic in his veins with each step backward. The man he didn't know every time he drank shouted incoherent threats at him because of the effects of everything he had consumed that night.

“Simon!” His father shouted in anger as he grabbed him by the shirt. Simon closed his eyes as soon as the fist was about to hit his face.

“Ghost!” You screamed when you finally caught him.

Ghost opened his eyes suddenly as he came out of the trance. The heavy rain, the white lanterns of the base, you holding him tightly by the arm and his soaked shirt. Realizing that he had returned to his senses, you pulled him towards the nearest warehouse. It was being remodeled, so it was open. As soon as they crossed the door, you forced him to sit on the floor.

“You are safe. You are at the Task Force 141 base, Lieutenant Simon Riley. You just suffered from a flashback,” you explained as you kneeled in front of him, taking his face to connect eyes to make sure he heard you loud and clear while both of you shivered from the cold.

You had seen this before, you just didn’t know how to face it at the time. Fear, anger, the desire to escape a memory that haunts you all your life. You had already lived this in different ways throughout your life, but this time you knew what to do. You wouldn't allow yourself to lose someone to PTSD again.

“Breathe with me,” you asked him to help him catch his breath, but he had other plans.

Ghost took off his shirt. You froze at the unexpected action. Unlike the fact that you had already seen half a base shirtless at the gym, this was the first time you saw the half-naked lieutenant. His broad shoulders, his perfectly sculpted biceps were bigger than your head and his pecs… for a second you thought they were bigger than yours. Your eyes expanded more and more as you continued to admire the reliefs on his skin from the combat wounds and stretch marks. You came back to reality as Ghost tried to unzip your hoodie.

“Wait, wait! What are you doing?!” You exclaimed as you covered your chest.

“You're going to get sick if you stay in wet clothes,” Ghost replied.

“We can go back to the dorms!” You argued with blushing cheeks.

“The dorms are at least 5 kilometers away. You’re going to get pneumonia before we get back. You’re not used to this weather.” And with that, Ghost unzipped your hoodie.

He knew it was a terrible idea, but it was what he had to do if he wanted to protect you from the cold. After all, it was his fault you were in this situation. Your gray t-shirt clung to your curves like a latex glove. The worst part? Not wearing a bra, your cold nipples felt like they wanted to break through the fabric. “Shit…” he thought. He was about to take off your shirt, but you stopped him.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered with some shyness.

Ghost nodded before pulling you against his body, sitting you on his wide lap. He took your shirt by the edges and closed his eyes. He pulled the wet fabric slowly to prevent his fingers from rubbing against your damp skin, but it was practically impossible. He held his breath to not let out a moan, evidence of his excitement at feeling you in such an intimate way. He hugged you tightly to increase the heat between your bodies. Heat rose to your flushed cheeks at being in this uncomfortable situation with your supervisor.

Simon took advantage of your head being on his neck to take off the balaclava, heavy from all the water it had absorbed. He ran his fingers through his wet hair. He needed a haircut already, but he always forgot to wear the mask. You froze up, but not because of the cold, but because of the discomfort of the situation. You put your arms in front of you in an attempt to put as much distance between you as possible, but if you really needed to warm up, you should be chest to chest. Simon raised his legs so you were as close to him as possible and pressed your back so you would break down the wall between you.

Simon quickly realized that this had been a terrible idea. Both of them half naked, completely alone in the early morning, the rain giving a romantic touch to the whole thing. He soon realized that the blood wasn't just reaching his cheeks. You lifted your head as soon as you felt a lump in your crotch.

“Tell me it’s a gun,” you pleaded, not having the courage to look him in the face.

“I wish that too,” he whispered to you embarrassed.

“Lieutenant…” You groaned.

“Please don't call me that now,” he begged.

“Does it turn you on to be called by your rank?” You mocked with a mischievous smirk.

But the moment you faced him, the smile fell. It was the first time you saw your superior's face. You wanted to make fun of the situation to downplay the fact that your tits were on top of his, but seeing him only made you blush even more. His uncut blonde hair fell unruly over his forehead, his honey eyes were framed by his dark circles, his nose was strong, the short beard didn't look bad on him at all, and his jaw was as sharp as your knives. “Holy shit! He's handsome!” you thought.

“Wow…” you sighed, baffled.

“Don't say shite. It's just a physiological response. I'm a man, leave me alone.” Simon pushed your head back into his neck so you wouldn't look at him. Unconsciously, you settled into his lap to be more comfortable in the new position. He moaned under his breath and grabbed your hips tightly so you wouldn't move anymore. “Stay still, or it'll be worse for both of us.” He growled in your ear.

“Are you threatening me?” You arched a curious eyebrow, moving your hips forward to rebel against his grip.

“If you keep moving, you’re just going to make me cum in my pants. And, trust me, you don’t want that.” Ghost stifled a growl of pleasure.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s just a physiological response.” You used his words against him.

“Cum in my pants is just the beginning. Then I’m going to tease you until we fuck ‘til we’re exhausted. After that we won’t be able to stop until someone catches us because you’ll be screaming my name.” He promised you.

“And the bad part?” You asked with a certain mocking tone.

“I warned you.” Simon pulled you by the neck to face you.

Simon didn't want to waste any more time. He kissed you rough and suddenly, moving his calloused hands over your naked torso. He defined all your healed wounds with the tips of his fingers, reading your history in the military. Smiling when he touched one that reminded him of a mission you had had together. His lips danced slowly but roughly over yours. You tilted your head to one side to deepen the kiss.

If a year ago someone had told you that you would end up making out with your lieutenant in an empty warehouse at 3 in the morning, you would have punched them in the face. You weren't one of those who slept with their coworkers. It was unprofessional, and you knew you wouldn't get far with them. If you wanted to kill the heat, you preferred to masturbate in your bed than get involved with anyone. But Ghost… He was different. He treated you, touched you, talked to you like no one else. You envied his body, his skills, and his mind because he wanted them to be only yours, whether they could realistically be yours was another matter.

Simon growled against your lips every time you moved your hips on his erect cock under his pants. He had imagined the situation many times on those nights where he needed that release, but it was just that, his imagination. This was going far beyond the limits he always had with you, but it was so much better. He held you firmly by the ass to guide you where he wanted you to take him. He leaned you back a little to take one of your tits into his mouth. Slowly, thirstily, he moved his tongue around the areola to tempt you. He sucked on your nipple, taking possession of you and the little noises that escaped your lips.

Simon mentally sang the national anthem. He knew it wouldn't last long after a long hiatus of casual relationships that he only had for fun, since the vast majority of women he knew weren't interested in having a relationship with a guy they would almost never see. Just having you on top of him, he already felt himself cumming. The rhythm of your hips moving against the wet fabric was too addictive to hold out for long. He had held out for too long. If he was like this in this peculiar situation, he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if he had you in his bed, under him, having the whole night to yourself.

“You had it very hidden, lieutenant.” You gently bit his earlobe.

“This is nothing, doll.” He mumbled, almost annoyed at not holding out any longer.

You moaned incoherently and flatteringly in his ear. Your hand was in his wet hair so he wouldn't have the nerve to pull away so soon. Simon kissed, licked, bit every part of your body while his fat cock tempted your crotch, although you knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to give you more because Simon was silent, that meant he was focused, too busy, trying not to cum to hold out one more minute. He looked adorable with his cheeks embarrassed.

“Shit…” Finally, he took a breath as he let the thick, warm liquid spilled over his lap.

“5 minutes, not bad,” you teased him.

The rain had stopped and you had regained your body heat. You carefully separated yourself from him to get dressed again. Simon felt embarrassed, pathetic, not a man. He reached for his balaclava to hide his embarrassment, but was surprised when you snatched it from his hands. You wrung out the fabric like you had done with your shirt and put it on, struggling to place it correctly over your eyes. A smile escaped his lips when he saw you wearing it, it was the closest thing to you putting on his clothes.

“We should go back before everyone wakes up,” you advised him before offering him your hand to help him up.

Ghost was a damn soldier who could do anything he set his mind to, on the other hand, Simon… he only survives as he can. The mask helped him become that man he always wants to be. A giant facade to hide that he was actually smaller than they thought. And there you were, the first to see through his brick wall and still act like nothing happened. Was he terrified that you would know the truth? Of course, but he trusted you. He didn’t know if this experience made you anything more than coworkers or friends, but it seemed time would tell.

“You’re right, I’m tired.” Finally, he took your hand to go back the way they had come.

Masterlist.

Next 🡪

Thanks for reading! <3

#call of duty ghost #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #soap x reader #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare

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flowerfreya · 10 months ago

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Cherry Wish

Heat Sick

Cherry Wish masterlist

CW: a/b/o dynamics , talk of heats , unintentional neglect, beta!reader,omega!simon, alpha!soap pairing: reader x ghoap Soap did something bad (not on purpose) and now needs reader help to fix it.

You haven’t seen them in almost a week and you're trying to not make it seem like a big deal but since it’s just you and your mind. It’s a pretty big deal. Everytime you hear the buzz of the automated door, you look over and see if it's them and every time it’s not them , you deflate little by little. You hate to admit it but you miss them. You're not used to people actually wanting you. Not used to people trying to be with you. Being a beta means that your dating pool is usually reduced to other betas and alphas that can’t find an omega. Your scent is not as strong as other betas, so you’ve been told by past partners but everyone knows that a scent is elevated when you feel something for your partner, which you have never. ~ You're walking into your shift when you hear someone call your name , turning your head , you spot Soap walking towards you in almost a haste, looking a little concerned. “What’s going on”, you say slowly, a little concerned because you don’t see Simon anywhere. “Lass, yer busy”, he says, something must be wrong. There was no preamble. No hello. Soap is usually annoying with how nice that he is. Something must be really wrong. “Where’s Simon”, you ignore the question he asked, opting to ask your own question, because you had a feeling that Soap question had a lot to do with where Simon is. “Answer me question first”, Soap growls. It shocks you and that’s really look at Soap. He seems sick. Bags under his eyes, face is dry and crusty, and his signature mohawk is deflated leaning over to one side. You decide to spare him , he needs it more than you. “Well yeah, I’m going to work. Only reason I would be here”, you say to him with a deadpan look. If you didn’t have to work the grocery store would be last on the list of places that you would go for fun. “You got heat leave”, Soap questions. “Why would I have heat leave when I’m a single beta”, you answer back. Starting to get annoyed. The store made you fill out paperwork when you got hired asking about your home life and designation. While heat leave is mandatory to give out, only omegas and spouses of omega’s can have it. They don’t want people to abuse it since they don’t need actual proof of a heat happening and still have to pay for full salary. Soap mutters under his breath , looking from side to side. Paranoid. “What’s going on”, you ask again. More harshly this time. Walking closer to Soap. That’s when you smell it. It’s like a bitter coffee, burnt wood and like when someone leaves the iron on the clothes for to long. It has you taking a step back , not expecting it. Then concern like no other washes over you. Simon. “Soap, tell me what’s going on”, you're scared that maybe Simon is hurt and alone and Soap is here asking about your schedule. You're confused and you need to get to the bottom of it. He starts to pace, hand pulling his fingers so hard you think that about to come out of the joint. “Can yer come with me”, he ask and before you can answer the question, he rattles a couple more: Do you have enough PTO to get a couple days off? They don’t give out PTO here. I think you may have imprinted on Simon. Shocker but not really considering how much they come to the store? His gland is swollen and it wont go down and he keeps asking about you?

Then with pleading eyes and a low whisper, “we need you”. “Okay”, you whisper back, already following him to the car. ~ You find Simon laying down in the backseats of the truck that Soap drove here. The smell of distressed alpha and omega is very stagnant in the air. You try your best to boost your calming and neutral scent to hopefully mask the smell of scared and afraid in the car. “Beta”, Simon whimpers, craning his hand towards you but not opening his eyes to do so. Turning around in the front seat , you're almost horrified to see Simon sweating and red with an engorged scent gland and tears in his eyes, “Hey, Simon baby”, you coo at him hoping to help with at least the emotional side of things before getting to the house and taking care of the physical. “Are you real?”, Simon ask. Taking his hand in yours, “Yeah baby, ‘m real”. Turning slowly to Johnny and trying to calm down so the smell of angry won’t waft off of you, hissing, ”what the fuck Soap”. He glances over to your face and then back at the road, “didn’t know what to do , he just kept calling for you and I thought it would resolve but then it just kept getting worse and worse” , his hand are gripping the steering wheel so tight they are turning a pale shade of his color. “You're his alpha, you're supposed to know when things are wrong or right with your omega”, when an omega goes into heat, all the responsibility for their wellbeing goes to the heat partner whether that be another omega or a beta or an alpha. An alpha has the easiest go of it since it has a great sense of smell and can easily tell when their scent changes. “How long has he been like this”, directing your attention back to Simon. Rubbing your wrist against his trying to get him to calm down. “Two day”, Soap say. “Two days?”, you growl which causes Simon to whimper not understanding that you aren’t mad at him, “not you baby”, you whisper to him causing him to relax once more. “What the fuck is your problem, don’t know how to take of an omega ?”, you say between clenched teeth. If it was any other alpha they would have been insulated that you're suggesting that they don’t know how to take care of their omega. Soap just hangs his head,shrugging his shoulder, “I guess not”

#reader x ghoap #simon riley x reader #johnny soap x reader #omega!simon #alpha!johnny #beta!reader #a/b/o dynamics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

The Lonely Souls Club 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: we're almost through the week.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

Bucky can smell her body soap as it wafts off her. Everything about her makes him giddy. Just walking beside her, getting to look at her, getting to talk to her!

And now, he’s taking her out to lunch. Almost like a real date.

He’s antsy to get to the restaurant. He tried to measure his patience as best he could as he fixed the lock. While she showered and dressed in the small bathroom, he paced her apartment, taking the chance to adjust a few of the cameras. Better, he can see the door.

He is mindful not to walk too fast for her. She seems to be moving a little better. If it’s the short nap she took or the shower, he’s not sure, but he’s happy for it.

She’s shy. He knows she’s often alone and keeps to herself but she sends him sheepish glances only to quickly look away each time their eyes meet. Her heart continues to race just as it did when she awoke to the intruder.

He steps ahead of her and opens the door of the noodle shop. She looks up and her eyes scan the sign then the windows. She lifts her cane in ahead of her as she steps through, “this place is good.”

He smiles. He hasn’t been back since the first time he saw her. Now he’s with her and he can hardly believe it. He follows her in as Mrs. Zhao greets them. She shows her surprise with a clap and a squeal.

“You brought a friend,” she muses.

“Uh, yeah,” he answers as the woman leans on her cane, stuck in limbo between them.

“Let me get you seated,” Zhao speaks to her and ushers her along as Bucky trails behind. They sit in a booth as menus await them and Mrs. Zhao bows before she leaves them.

She, his companion, his date, nestles her cane against the wall of the booth and her eyes flit around. She peeks at the menu then at him. She folds her hands in her lap, making no move to peruse the options further.

“You come here a lot? She knows you?” She glances towards the kitchen.

“Ah, yeah,” he answers with a nervous chuckle, “I don’t always have the energy to cook so…”

She nods and shifts on the seat. He sees how her cheek ticks and she grips the edge of the table to adjust her posture. He flutters his fingers over the laminated menu.

“Is it okay? Are you uncomfortable?” He leans forward.

“Fine,” she ekes out and brings her fingertips to the edge of the menu.

“Right, um, well, if you want a little padding you could sit on my jacket,” he offers.

Her lips curve softly and her brows raise, “that’s really nice but I’m okay.”

She looks down again at the menu. He sees how she chews her lip and slants her mouth. He knows exactly what she’s looking at. Not the dishes but the prices. It's a habit. He’s been there too. Pinching every penny, darning every sock and sleeve until it’s too frayed to mend, stretching broth with water, and washing with no soap. His bad days are over and he wants to help end hers too.

“How about we do the meal for two special,” he offers as he sees her fixate on the sides section. Three spring rolls isn’t going to stop the growling in her stomach that awoke the minute they stepped inside. “It’s a good deal. You can pick the type of noodle.”

“Oh, uh,” she taps her fingers, “I guess… if it makes sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he insists. He knows the portions are generous. They’ll get enough for her to take a box home, especially with the rolls and salad on the side. “Do you like Udon or chow mein?”

“I like both,” she says, “udon, maybe, if you like it.”

“Sounds good to me. Broth? I don’t really like the beef, it hurts my stomach.”

“Pork’s good,” she suggests, “if you want.”

“Sure,” he agrees, heartened that she didn’t push back on his idea. She needs a good meal, not half a cup of oatmeal with six raisins on top.

“Tea,” Mrs. Zhao interrupts, a tray in her hand. She sets it down, presenting a big slate gray pot and matching cups.

“Thanks,” he says as she echoes him in a small voice. He gives their order and Mrs. Zhao leaves them with a rosy smile, a definitive look sent from one to the other.

He pours tea into the cups and sets one in front of her. She looks at the contents then him. She thanks him and leans in to inhale the scent. Her stomach rumbles viciously and she winces.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” He asks, turning his own cup nervously.

“Um, since high school,” she answers, “so… a while. What about you?”

“Born and raised,” he says proudly. “Always happen to come back.”

She nods and blows across the tea but doesn’t drink as the steam puffs hotly. Her eyes flit over and her stomach grumbles again. She watches another table as they clink cutlery on their dishes. She’s fighting it but she’s starving.

“Uh, wow, didn’t even realise I’m so hungry,” he says, “I don’t even think I had dinner last night.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs and turns her eyes to the table, “and you didn’t get much sleep. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m a bit of an insomniac. Got a bit restless last night and good thing I did or I wouldn’t have been able to scare that guy off, huh,” he stills the cup and flicks his thumb around the curve of the rim.

“I guess,” she puts her hands to her neck and shivers, “that was really scary.”

“Well it’s a good thing I deal with scary people all the time,” he says, “lot of people say the same about me so I guess that helps.”

“Oh,” she bats her lashes and her eyes meet his, “I didn’t mean–”

“I know, I’m joking,” he assures her. She’s so jumpy, he wonders if that has anything to do with her limp. If maybe she’s afraid of everyone and everything for a reason. Well, she won’t have to be, not with him.

“Ah,” she forces a smile, “right.”

“Hey, you held your own,” he sits up straighter, “you swing that cane like a champ.”

“Yeah, ha,” she laughs, just a small one as he reaches for the tea cup again, “I… I hit that guy.”

He chuckles too, “you did. Honestly, I think after that, there’s no way he’ll be back.”

Her

You try to eat slowly and it doesn’t take much before you’re painfully full. You put the chopsticks down and take a napkin to wipe your mouth. Bucky smiles at you, a noodle hanging from his lips as he slurps it up.

“Sorry,” he covers his mouth, “caught me at a bad moment.”

“It’s good, I… I’m full,” you look at the noodles still left in your bowl.

“Oh, no worries, we’ll just ask for a container,” he says, “be good to have some leftovers in the fridge… just in case.”

“Uh, yeah,” you agree. You wonder if maybe he saw inside your empty fridge or he just means well.

“I’m getting there myself,” he stirs his bowl with his chopsticks.

She nods and he raises his hand as he sees Mrs. Zhao, the namesake for the restaurant, “excuse me, hi, sorry, whenever you have a chance.”

She acquiesces and rushes off. He sits back and smacks his stomach, “mm, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very good,” you agree.

Mrs. Zhao returns and offers the bill to Bucky. You look away, embarrassed.

“I forgot to mention, can you add a box of tea,” he hands it back.

She agrees and whisks off again. You sit in silence, awkwardly searching the restaurant. You would offer to pay for your own but you can’t. You’re dirt poor. You can’t help but think he knows it too. No one is that nice. It only takes one look around your place to see it.

Zhao returns once more, sets a box of tea before him and some containers, then the bill. He pays in cash and tells her to keep the change. She chimes thankfully and wishes you both a good day. You pour your noodles into the container and seal the lid. Bucky does the same.

You grab your cane and turn on the bench, dragging yourself across to plant it on the floor. You brace the table and stand as he does so much easier than you. He takes his container and yours, stacking them atop each other, then the tea on the very top.

“Oh, thanks,” you utter as you get your feet set.

“No problem,” he grins.

He waits for you to go first. You make a slow, uneven advance to the door. You keep your eyes straight as you refuse to notice the glances sent in your direction. The lucky cat by the door waves in farewell as you approach.

Bucky reaches past you and opens the door before you can. You limp out into the street. Your hip burns from the thin cushion of the booth bench.

“That was nice,” he says as he walks beside you, again patiently keeping pace with you.

“It was,” you agree, “it’s really kind of you.”

“You act like having lunch with a pretty girl is a chore,” he jokes.

You scoff, “please.”

“Please what,” he tilts his head.

Your chest pinches and your face heats up, “you’re just being nice.”

“No,” he argues, “I don’t lie.”

A sudden flash glares to your left and your toe catches in the sidewalk. You stagger and land on one knee, the pavement dinging the bony cap harshly as you catch yourself with a hand. Your cane clatters beside you as you look around in confusion.

“Hey, what the hell?” Bucky barks, his voice deeper and scarier than before. “Don’t do that.”

You glance over at a man with a large camera. He blanches from behind the lens but takes another photo. Bucky shifts as if he might lunge at the photographer and he runs off.

Bucky sighs and reaches to grab your arm, gentle but firm.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks in concern, his other arm hugging the containers.

“Yeah, I didn’t see him. I’m sorry, I must’ve stepped on a crack–”

“That jack– guy should be apologising,” he sneers, “so rude.”

“Yeah, I…” you hiss as you grab your cane. He holds onto you, helping you rise, but not too quickly, “I… why would he…” you peer over your shoulder then back to him, “are you famous?”

He huffs and shrugs, “I guess to some people.”

You furrow your brow and let your shoulders sink, “oh.”

“I don’t really think about it, you know? I got a job and I do it. All the attention, I hate it,” his hand slips down your arm and reluctantly falls away. You swallow and turn back down the sidewalk. He walks with you, quiet for a moment before he speaks again, “does that mean you don’t wanna be friends?”

You think as your cane taps between your footsteps, “I didn’t… No, I just…” you take a breath, “I’ve never known anyone famous.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he sighs.

“Yeah, seems like.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the lonely souls club #series #falcon and the winter soldier #avengers #mcu #marvel #captain america

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fandoms-writings · 2 years ago

Note

For your requests, how about "You're not as bad as everyone says you are." with biker!Bucky? Only if it sparks ✨ inspiration ✨ for you my love ❤️❤️

I know this prompt was under fluff but this turned out wayyyy more angsty than I intended - i'm sorry lol

Pairing: biker!bucky x reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: angsty, a look at bucky's internal turmoil, they're going through it right now, descriptions of the aftermath of the nefarious things bucky has to do but nothing too descriptive. bucky's really sad in this i'm sorry

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist || Event Post

When Bucky had to do the unthinkable for the club, he had a certain 'ritual' to help him cope with it.

You'd come up with it actually, something to help him not spiral into the self hatred that his actions could bring. Keeping his head above the sea of nasty words his self conscious liked to try and drown him with.

He'd come home, his choices from the day wearing down his shoulders, making him drag himself into the bedroom where he'd peel off his leather cut and toss it to the chair in the corner. Usually he'd sit there hunched over his knees for hours, stuck in a mental spiral, replaying the events from the day. Screams echoing in his ears. A stickiness to his fingers, his nails and knuckles stained red.

But in times like this, when you weren't speaking to him, he'd remember what you would do.

You'd pull him into the shower, washing the day off of him before making him eat a sugary snack, something sweet to get the endorphins going again. Then you'd sit him down on the couch with the show he loved watching with you and you'd snuggle up to him, combing your hands through the length of his hair, scratching his scalp.

He looked around the room, traces of you still there. Your necklace on the nightstand. A sweater discarded in the same chair his cut lay. One of your bandanas that you'd wear under your helmet tied to the bed frame.

And your helmet.

It sat out on the dining table, untouched in almost two weeks - since you went back to your place saying you needed time.

He understood. You had every right to be mad at him, he just wished he knew how to fix it.

But being late to date night and showing up a bloody mess is kind of hard to fix.

So, he sighed, gathering himself before he stood and headed to the shower. He peeled his clothes off, leaving them in a mess on the floor while he got under the water - he would deal with them later, it was one thing at a time right now.

With you not being here, he liked using just a little bit of the soap you'd left, it being the only way he got to smell you until you came back - if you came back. He stood under the water, watching the suds and pink droplets swirl down the drain as the look of disappointment on your face flashed in his mind.

He hadn't meant to forget about date night, he really didn't. He'd just gotten roped into some club business, and when he tried to explain it to you, you shook your head. The anger in your eyes was unlike anything he'd ever seen - he'd never see you mad before and it'd frozen his feet in their place.

"If this is going to work," You'd gestured between the two of you, throwing your bag over your shoulder, open, "you need to figure out how to balance club life and our life. I'm not going to be the girl waiting for you to come home in one piece, if at all."

"I can't just not handle business when it needs to be handled," He'd argued, his tone rising in his heart's cry for you to put your bag down and stay. "I can't abandon the club when they need me."

"That's not the problem," you pushed past him, "You didn't call, you didn't text. I was at the restaurant for two hours, James. Two." You turned and pointed to him, "You abandoned me tonight."

"I'm sorry, okay?" He followed you around the house as you gathered random things of yours, shoving them in your duffle bag, "I'll make sure to call next time."

"Next time?" You spun on him, a look of bewilderment in your irises, "You're assuming there's a next time?"

Dread filled his chest as he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Suddenly, it didn't matter what he was going to say. He just wanted you to stay, not to leave. Not to leave him.

"Bucky I was left at that table, in the dress you picked out," You shoved a finger in his chest, "for two hours while you were off doing whatever it is that you do." Your hand gestured to the red stains on his pants. "And you'll never tell me what you're doing out there, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out it's dangerous."

He waited as you took a breath, zipping up your bag with a huff as your shoulders shook.

"I'm sorry," He muttered again but your head shook.

"I don't care," You turned to him with tears in your eyes, "You can be sorry all you want. But I didn't even know if you were coming home at all tonight. Or if you were headed to the morgue in a body bag."

It was that comment that punched him in the gut, and still replayed in his mind when things were too quiet. You weren't really mad about date night. He was supposed to be your calm, your safe space. He wasn't supposed to cause you anything but happiness and pleasure. But he hadn't even given you the courtesy to call you and tell you what was going on.

You walked out after that, saying you needed time to figure out if you wanted to come back at all, and as the days passed, he was starting to think your side of the bed would remain cold forever.

You were it for him, he didn't want anyone else, and he never would - he knew that.

But on nights like this, while he scrubbed the blood out from under his nails, he wondered if you knew it.

Did you know how far gone he was for you? How he'd do anything for you, that if it wasn't you in his life, it was no one.

He wondered if he could have both. You and this life he'd created. You, in your tender adoration. The way you cared for him. Loved him. And his life with the club. Being part of a stronghold like that. Being a nightmare for some. Seeing the things he did. Doing the things he had to. Making the necessary decisions no matter how morally questionable they were.

He knew people talked badly about him around you, warning you to stay away from him. That he was dangerous. A bad man. And he knew some of it was true.

He was dangerous, not trusted by most.

But you told him something once, the first time you'd seen him come home from club business covered in bruises and blood, seeing the internal turmoil those choices caused him.

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

With those words replacing the agony that had been swirling his head, he gets out of the shower, drying off and getting dressed with a purpose.

He was going to see you, and make sure you know you're it for him, no matter what. As long as you know that, your choice is yours.

But first, he needs to pick up a sweet treat. He decides he'll pick up your favorite.

Maybe, if things work out, you'd share it with him.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #remisneonparty #em <3 #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #biker!bucky x reader #biker!bucky

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mikuni14 · 2 months ago

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Heesu in Class 2 - Ep 7-8

The following post is critical, so if you're a fan, you'd better skip it 😉

I really want to like this series and I approach each new episode with the hope that this time it will be better, but every time I'm met with disappointment.

My biggest issues are with the character of Heesu, whom I simply can't like, and the lack of logic in the continuity of the story and the characters' behaviors. Despite everything, this series is just a romance, and one of the simplest ones, because Heesu and Seung Won are simply supposed to get together and the series does everything to help them do it, to the detriment of the sense and the characters - and most of all Heesu.

I'll try to explain as best I can what I don't like about this series:

there are no transitions between the characters' mental states. For example, Heesu has a broken heart and the status of his feelings literally changes immediately. Right away, on the same hill, he goes from one guy to another. There is no transition, no "bridge" from one love to another, no period of grief for an old love. Same with Chan Yeong's personal life: randomly thrown in single scenes with his abusive father and there is no transition to the next scenes. For example, after a fight with his father, he leaves home late at night… and what? Where was he? How does all that weigh on him? Who did he go to with his problems? Doesn't he feel lonely without Heesu? No answers

when Heesu has his heart broken by one straight guy, he immediately falls in love with another straight guy, and the reason is the same as before: another guy shows interest in him (which would be an interesting topic to show in the series btw, but why bother). There is no fear, no contemplation, no confusion, despair that his heart will be broken again, because Heesu KNOWS that Seung Won is in love with a GIRL, and the same one as his ex-crush. (Somehow the irony of this situation is completely lost on Heesu and the writers)

the potential homophobia appeared for a moment and was forgotten. This is one of my biggest problems with this series: Heesu is supposedly afraid of coming out, but the series simultaneously shows him as someone who is NOT afraid. Heesu was ready to confess to Chan Yeong (and publicly!), and when he discovers his feelings for Seung Won, he tells him that he won't go on a blind date because he already has a crush on someone - and he says it while looking him in the eye. In general, the topic of homosexuality is treated quite freely, we have lesbian couples, Seung Won has already told two people that he likes a boy in his class, and most importantly: Heesu, like a true soap opera MC, lives his love life 24/7, nothing else happens in his life, even his hobby has somehow become about his love life, he smoothly moved from one love obsession to another and apart from a momentary fear after a mysterious text, there is no such constant fear and stress associated with living with a huge secret and hiding an important part of himself. Again: lack of logic and continuity

Seung Won confessing his feelings for Heesu to everyone else, not even his close ones, but not to Heesu is so irritating, especially since...

.... he just said with a cocky smile on his face that he feels quite sure that he has a chance with Heesu and is flirting with him quite openly. So is he confident or not? Or has he simply not confessed his love yet because we need to fill half the series somehow?

Heesu is becoming more and more inconsistent, he is sometimes nice, only to completely deny his nice moments by being a total asshole next. He takes out his frustrations on others, he does not think about the consequences of his words, others pay for his desires, anger, jealousy. Those others are usually Ji Yu.

there are no scenes between Heesu and Chan Yeong, there is no conversation about what happened between them, why Heesu is like this towards him and his girlfriend, they don't try to talk, to fix their relationship, Chan Yeong has more scenes with the coach than with Heesu. Their friendship is very unreliable because of this, although I would understand Heesu trying to avoid Chan Yeong for various reasons, Chan Yeong not questioning the sudden and drastic change in their relationship is simply illogical

unfortunately Heesu keeps meddling in other people's business, he likes the attention and compliance that the guys in his life show him, everything he does is about him, he even starts a club for his personal purposes, not for astronomy and not caring about the potential club members, he is very selfish, he is very susceptible to influence, for example, it was enough for JiYu to talk to him nicely and his whole attitude changes and the resentment towards her goes away.

This whole emotional mess is frustrating and tiring instead of being funny. The amount of suffering they cause each other, which Heesu excels at (like the scene on the bus when he doesn't sit next to Seung Won - it would made me feel down for the whole day if something like that happened to me), makes me not have fun watching it and this romance doesn't spark joy. The worst thing is that this series had potential and all these topics, problems that were only touched on, done properly and with care, could easily fill the airtime without harming the characters and the plot.

#heesu in class 2 #bl drama #korean bl

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mariamakeslemons · 9 months ago

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Spooktober 2024: Day 16 Dolls

Warning: talk of spells and "dollification"

You look up as the door to your shop opens, having just set the last of the 141 down. A man enters, looking around your shop with a smarmy smirk.

“What a weird shop,” he comments, turning to you with a smirk, “Bet you could have something better to do.”

“Fuck off, Brandon,” you chirp with a smile, already done with dealing with this particular fuckhead. He’s been bothering you ever since you had gone out to meet with an old friend and happened to meet him. You don’t know how he found out where your shop is, but you don’t really care.

“C’mon, just give me a chance,” he simpers, leaning on the counter.

“They said, leave ‘em olone,” Ghost rumbles, towering over the idiot. Said idiot jumps and spins around to come face to chest with the man. You huff and turn back around, fixing up the clothes on a different porcelain doll. Ghost says something softly to Brandon that seems to send him fleeing from the shop. You let out a soft huff and turn, seeing Ghost leaning on the counter.

“C’n I get a present?” he requests. You let out another huff and walk around the counter, past Ghost and picking up the scarred doll that holds him, pressing a kiss to the face. Ghost snorts before returning to his doll. You hear the three other dolls shake, laughing at your acceptance.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been weird, when you first got them about a month ago, from Kate Laswell. You had grown up with Simon, knowing him even when he hid behind the Ghost moniker. Kate used this little tidbit to hand off the 141 to you, all of them contained in the bodies of dolls. You hadn’t even met the two Sergeants and now you’re housing all four in ball-joint forms.

“Went after a know mage,” Kate had explained roughly, “the mage escaped by cursing them, but we got the notes. We should hopefully get them back to normal, although it’s likely it’ll wear off over time.” You blinked and jumped when all the dolls shook suddenly.

Luckily, she was right, as by the end of that first week, all of them had briefly been a human projection like Ghost just did. Soap had fallen over himself to try getting stories of Simon when he was a kid, Gaz had just asked for something to nibble on, and Price had requested a cigar. Ghost had cuddled with you, whispering things you don’t know you should have been hearing but taking them and swearing secrecy.

You made them some clothes and brought them to the store with you, giving them something to watch and occasionally project from the dolls to help. With a hobby and game store, having the dolls and one of the 141 helping has helped you run the store. Ghost usually helping you behind the counter while Gaz and Soap would often play the board games you had available for your customers, increasing those particular sales. Price has messed around with the models you have, and asked after the model kits in curiosity.

Now, Kate says the spell will be broken in a few more days, which you’re both looking forward to and loathing. While they’ve been helpful around the shop, the team has to get back to work, including Ghost. But, Ghost has also promised you a date, something you’ve been dreaming of for years, never thinking you’d get one with him.

You pick up Ghost’s doll and press another kiss to him, humming as you walk around the shop, checking up on everything and ignoring how the other three dolls shake in laughter as Ghost’s doll gets warm.

#my work #spooktober 2024 #simon ghost riley x reader

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islandtarochips · 1 year ago

Note

🌸 Tell me about your OC(s) - with pictures if you want !Pick some facts you want to share about them & let us gush about them together! Then send to other creators to do the same ✨

I think I’ve done this before. But eh. Wouldn’t mind doing it again! I’ll just give out 5 or less/more facts about each of my OCs! Even my BOCW OC too!

I’ll start off with Tiala Toa!

Secretly have some shark plushies in her barrack. Got it from her little brothers and mostly from Kanoa. Knowing how much she loves them.

Tiala had never dated another guy after what happened to her Ex in High School. For she doesn’t want to feel humiliated again.

She’s the more protective one than her brothers. Even mostly to her little ones. (She only accepted Sami’s Wife. She’s nice.)

She did most of the house/yard work while her little brothers are having a Princess Treatment (that’s how it is here in Samoa/American Samoa) but she doesn’t mind (not to her mom-).

Have her mother’s look and strength from her father.

Kanoa Toa:

Out of ALL of his siblings. He’s the only one who knows how to braid or fix hairs. Very nice style though. His mom and his cousins taught him that.

Single. He’s been single ever since he was BORN. He has his charms but no luck in having a girlfriend. Even during high school no girls wanted him.

It’s funny that he got his Uncle’s (his dad’s brother) funny side. NONE of his parents are funny. So I guessed he would hang out with him most of the time.

Agnes Falagi:

She loves to draw. It’s like a hobby of hers. So she usually keeps a notebook in her pockets in case she gets bored during a mission.

She has photos of her mom and aunty on her phone. And would NEVER delete them no matter how full her phone storage was.

She used to have a pet kitten but it got lost. Never seen them again.

Agnes may have gone to jail ONCE for making illegal fireworks during 4th of July.

Nigel Harrison:

Pranking on everyone most of the time except Tiala. Tried many times but yet she somehow got away with it…

Always facetime to see his little sister after every mission and would smile to see her drawings of him.

Always scared of Price and his boys whenever he meets up with them. Because of his….AHEM. Past work. (Someone help this man. He’s being anxious-)

He mostly got his mother’s attitude of being pissed off with someone.

Him and Soap used to be friends when they first met at Las Almas. But he doesn’t know if they are right now…

Aelan Kalani:

Tiala is her favorite. For she hardly came over to her lab from being injured. She’s annoyed to see Kanoa, Agnes and Nigel for being reckless most of the time. That’s why she put Tiala in her favorite list.

Usually hides in her office to finish her work. But her mom always found her and scolded her for not resting.

She used to punch a Colonel in the face for threatening one of her patients who came in FIRST. (Her mom was proud though)

Always gets a photo by her little cousin to show about her Uncle and Aunty. She truly misses them.

REALLY ignored her grandparents call since they just met her a year ago and found out about her mom. (Asking for money perhaps…)

Alana Kalani:

Has a wine bottle hiding in her drawer for emergency (Mental emergency)

Kept a photo of the WTF team.

Got a mug that says “Best General Mom in the World”. A gift from the WTF.

Actually knows why people kept calling her MILF and Mommy (Agnes and Nigel explained that-)

Usually sends money to her little niece everyday just to spoil her.

Koa (BOCW OC):

Before becoming an asshole. He usually dresses up and has tea parties with his daughter when she’s little.

Actually kept a small photo of her daughter when she’s a baby to remind him of how much he wishes to turn back time.

Whenever he can’t sleep because of the nightmares he has about losing his daughter. He usually trains until he’s tired again.

Koa usually sees his sergeant as his son. He reminded him of his own son as well.

Would tease Adler about his soft side with his kids (Aleks sends some pics about it) but not in public though. For he respected Adler’s personal life.

Ok! There you have it! Thanks for the ask though!

And also, Aleks belongs to @alypink for the BOCW Universe!

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ohsoulymoons · 2 years ago

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Confession 0.2

Duncan... being stinky makes sense

Duncan of my version :P

He can't help it , running around everywhere also basically biased on past boyfriends and I be like yummy then gag later on after while 4 days with them.

Sometimes stinky sweat makes my brain want tear you apart and pull out a wedding ring then drag to the church say vows

Musty fog really can be factor to no thoughts just stupid actions

That's why I'm like THAT MAN STINKS AND COURTNEY WOULD RATHER DIED THAN TELLING YOU SHE LOVES HIS MUSTY SWEATY FORM, BLACK ICE AXE SPRAY, AND APOLLO ALUMINUM-FREE DEODORANT FORMULA STICK

A clean Duncan smells like forest pine cones, hints of smoking with fire, red polo cologne known as Polo Red Eau de Toilette, and Axe Phoenix deodorant and vodka with tequila shots somehow

HE SHOWERS BUT AT WHAT CIST EVERYONE SAYS HE DOESN'T!!!

I don't usually sweat everyone gets mad at me after intense workout or 4 hours of labor then I lay down or rest I am sweating like a pig and I'm like ah don't look at me like leaking all the sweat out like nothing

Yes I memorized scents of past lovers, I even memorized their eyes, the way they fell asleep and what they fear most and how wale them up safely from nightmares, and made a mental list of their favorite products to buy them to replace them before they ran out before they notice it.

I used be super hyper focused on being too feminine to scare the gay thoughts away or the mean comments on my body like my version Courtney the need to look perfect always

But

Now I'm mixture of them both lol. I use axe myself lol scares off some they mean men away and I get cute girls to look at me sometimes ❤️ it doesn't help I dress up like them lol homies now out in public with red converse on top.

I hide my hair under my in my black champion snapback and black oversized hoodie usually too with my face mask on sometimes can be confusing experience to people who see me out in the open

Like Courtney will freak out if she thinks she stinky

Based on my personal experience in University I used to have a long routine of 5 days to get ready to even consider going on a date with someone everyday I would brush my teeth three times , twice daily flossing them! A night when I wasn't spending the time with some random guy or person I would have my retainer in at 8:00 with a facial typing away and fixing my papers before they were due in 2 weeks listening to my roommate or letting her explain her essay on the legal system. And as a psychology major and her as the law major or pre-law we actually helped you each other a lot and made sure to find the right etiquette or whatever she needed to make sure she won her fake cases or got the highest grade she could. By university I was c student and burn out hah no more A's and high caliber of life and learn how to calm down and also I realize I wasn't God's gift to man but I could use my ability to copy everyone's energy to use this God complex against others that annoy me often.

Basically: Courtney

5:00am Awake

5:30 am Yoga and pray/fight God again

6:00 to 8:30 am at the gym deadlifting with her best gal

9 long ass shower ritual, goat milk soap bar from Australia, rice water Shampoo and conditioner bar like from kitsch, body scrub lavender of course, then outside of shower routine eye cream for sensitive skin and to lessen dark circles, rose oil like Instituto Espanol Rosa Body Oil then drying herself up putting on Tree Hut’s Vanilla Whipped Body Butter to finally spray once her old rarely used Justin Bieber Someday Eau De Parfum the two sprays of Bath & Body Works A Thousand Wishes Fine Fragrance Mist, shaving/plucking/waxing/ new or fix nails on Thursday to Saturdays, she shaped heart somewhere with purple jewelry of a C

Shower early

Bath rarely afraid of uti her mother told that at a young age she afraid of finding out

Her other rituals usually at night. She carries emergency bags in her thick ass backpack 4 chapsticks 2 unopened different vanilla to mango to cotton candy to pumpkin spice, sewing kit, a mini first aid, 6 water bottles somehow, her lunch, her laptop, spare clothes just incase, and everything else she needs for the day!

#total drama #Confession #duncney #td courtney #rant #courtney total drama #duncan and courtney

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synonymouswithanonymous · 15 days ago

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to anon lol

Responding/snatching quotes from the hate blog. Sorry to tag but as always please skip if uninterested. 😊

I'm calling out ridiculous hate posts full of delulu. Why would I call out nice decent respectful posts? Again you don't make sense. To be fair: edited: I have quoted several quotes I do like, as recent as circus review press.

and lol i also only see what's on my dash. I'm sure I've missed lots of things like someone told me there were calls for JM to be raped, I hadn't seen that one, but am also disgusted by whatever shitty asshole said that. Bc lets face it you/anyone say things like that, you are in fact a shitty person. I don't usually judge people but there are clear boundaries of what's ok and not ok. What I will and won't post. Any person fantasizing about self harm or rape bc she's dating your celeb crush is a shitty person.

"They provide inaccurate translations"

Nope. I do not. That's another lie, you just can't help yourself. But i wouldn't expect the person dedicated to mistranslating and lying about their celeb crush's GF's every word, bc they're too delulu and jealous to understand that lol. I've never provided inaccurate translations (except shakes instead of trembling but it was close!😊) . he never said for "other people" "for others", clearly meaning other birthdays. Not other people. You literally inserted a word that was not there to create a fiction you want to be true. Lol

Someone else also provided the same translation I did. They also didn't feel the need to insert words that were not there. I'll check it again later just to be sure, but "other people" wasn't in there "for others" was clearly, in the context of the convo he'd done a lot for other birthdays, but was disappointed he didn't go big this year. Then the other guy talked about going big for his next bday. It's a short blurb, but you want to add words and instead of an inch take 20 miles! Lol it only doesn't make sense if your reading comprehension is lacking lol.

Just like when someone (you/haters) took "my parents are simple people" and changed it to "simpletons." Changing meaning and context from a nice sentiment to an insult towards his parents. Why? Bc you wanted to bash his parents?

Reading comprehension is important. Context is key.

"So far as checking people’s vpns and accounts/posts"

I've not checked any vpns/IPs but thank you for confirming my hypothesis as accurate. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 but it really wasn't hard to figure out that it's 90% you. Multiple accounts one IP. Lol I'll wait and see if the same "personalities" come back later saying the exact same things again, and again just like the last 50 times lol. But you said specifically "checking" lol you didn't have to tell me I was right about the soap operas either, but thanks for the telling remarks. Lol

AHA's Joe Goldberg like fan"s" just mad they got called out accurately. 😂🤣

Also why would I try to communicate over there? I have my own blog and am not at the whimsy of whatever they decide to post either lol. I've been told they don't post every ask by more than 6 users. Lol better off here.

Now I have made clear, I believe, that I wont post hate messages about AHA/JM or about their haters. He has some dedicated haters. Who knew? I don't believe in telling people, even jealous delulu ones, to "kys" or "themselves."or spreading that type of hate. 8 usernames said that about haters and that they should do that. 8. Shitty people like that have no business on my blog. I also will not post exploitive images of celebs naked so that grown men can get their fix (it's called google or buy the movie and watch it yourself damn).

But I will call out lies, mistranslations, and all the ridiculous delulu I see. And there's a lot of it.

#johanne milland #alex hoegh andersen #alex høgh andersen #is there anything more ridiculous that hating a celeb bc she's daring to date your celeb crush? nope.#It's come to my attention that there's a reason he liked a comment about his toxic fans

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simonsdoll · 2 years ago

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MW2 men having a crush

on you

Includes:Price,Ghost,Soap,Gaz,Konig and Graves

PRICE

- Has kept a wandering eye on you for longer than usual and his crush developed by how well you two work together

- He would always try to keep it professional with you so he doesn’t reveal his crush on you and is often distracted when your in the same room as him doing some debriefing

- When he can’t keep his composure around you anymore he decides it’s time to do something about it

- When he asks you out he asks you very sternly and never breaks eye contact with you

- When you say yes he treats you like the world is yours coming from his rank and power that it makes it feel as such

GHOST

- Quality moments and near death experiences that tested your loyalty to him is what made him develop feelings for you

- He wouldn’t know what to do with his feelings because feeling love for someone was so foreign and dangerous especially in yalls line of work

- Others noticed how his eyes would dilate and how awkward he is around you and he was teased for it by the 141 and he decided to just go for it and hope you feel the same for him

- When he asks you out it’s very straightforward and fast and struggles to make eye contact

- When you say yes he spends as much time with you as possible and of course he makes your barrack room his second safe space

SOAP

- Soap would have so much trouble trying to hide his crush on you when he would confidently and constantly ask to be your partner for sparring or for shooting practice

- When you would laugh and giggle at Soap’s corny jokes you would boost his ego and he would get even more tempted to just ask you out already

- When he asks you out he tries to be as serious and casual as possible but deep down he’s going crazy and he just can’t seem to hide the blush on his cheeks when you tell him you like him back

- When it’s oficial he’s telling everyone and when I mean everyone I mean EVERYONE that he’s taken and he always has you confirm the news so people know he’s not joking

GAZ

- When he crushes on you he tries to make it look like he doesn’t but Price calls him into his office telling him that he KNOWS he’s crushing on you and that he can’t play dumb because it’s very noticeable.

- When he sees you all alone and away from people he fixes his hat and he walks up to you and he asks you out almost in a whisper with guilt. He looks deeply into your eyes for a response

- When you say yes he impulsively hugs you and you tell him that his crush on you was so noticeable and he starts to blush

KONIG

- When he crushes on you he gets very awkward and very quiet around you and he can’t help but just walk out of the room once he sees you enter it

- Blames himself and reflects a lot on how he’s a big and strong soldier but can’t even form a sentence or even look you in the face anymore

- When working out he let’s out all of his frustration and he finally can’t take it anymore so he gets cleaned up and looks for you

- When he asks you out, he asks you out in a very serious tone and refuses to make eye contact with you in fear you’ll discover how nervous he is

- When you say yes he acts all cool as he walks out of the room and when he gets to his room he’s punching the air and punching the pillows

GRAVES

- When he crushes on you it’s so blatantly obvious and isn’t afraid to show you how much he likes you. When being teased for it he just goes along with it or even starts rumors that y’all are dating

- He gets extra handsy with you and always talks good things about you with the shadows or other higher oficials

- When he asks you out he is as serious as possible and tells you exactly how he feels about you and why he likes you

- When you say yes he treats you like a queen and always has you by his side like your a trophy

- Isn’t afraid to tell everyone that your his girlfriend and always gives you special treatment.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Check Masterlist for more

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southernbluebellereader · 2 years ago

Text

Routines Part 2

Part 1

COD MW2 Taskforce 141 x F! Southern Hair Dresser Reader - Not the same as the Southern Cook Reader

Captain John Price, Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, Sergeant Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x F! Southern Hair Dresser Reader (COD MW(2))

Warnings: Suggestive actions/language. Slight bullying.

Word Count: ~1,099 words

Summary: Y/N opened up a little salon close to the base where the Taskforce 141 are stationed and there is now a platonic relationship between them and it's always fun bringing in rookies for their first hair cut.

Master List (Tag list at the bottom)

“Why is there a dog in my salon, Simon?”

“Needs a haircut.” Simon ruffled the fur on top of Riley’s head, earning a tail wag from him.

“Yeah, I can see that, but I caint groom pets.” Y/N kept herself at a distance, not being too fond of dogs. She swallowed hard and kept her eyes on Riley, who kept looking around the salon with curiosity, but remained at Simon’s side.

“You cut hair, don’t ya’?”

“Yeah, but I cut people hair, Simon, I ain’t know how to cut dog hair. Plus… Dogs and me don’t really go well together.”

“He’s trained,” Simon chuckled, taking note of her remark while chuckling, not initially seeing an issue, “But whatever you say. I still need a haircut.”

“Your hair I can cut, Simon,” Y/N smiled nervously, still keeping her eyes on Riley. She had no reason to be distrustful of the dog, he’s trained, according to Simon, “Please leave him by the door, and have a seat.”

Chuckling, Simon did as he was told, for the most part. He sent Riley to the couch by the seating area, earning a gasp from Y/N, “Um, Simon, he’s not going to take a shit on my couch is he?”

—

“Mr. Garrick!” Y/N nearly jumped up from her client chair when she heard the bell above her door and saw Kyle walk in, damn near falling over until Kyle caught her, “You alright, sweetheart?”

He chuckled as he helped her to her feet, earning a small blush from the little hair dresser, “Y-yeah, I’m good. Thanks. Got scared, that’s all.” Y/N adjusted her clothes and composed herself as she watched him take his cap off, scratching his head slightly, “Fancy a cut, Mr. Garrick?”

“Yeah, a shave too if you don’t mind,” Kyle said sheepishly.

“Aight, to the chair you go.”

“W-what?” Kyle looked at her slightly confused then blushed slightly when Y/N pointed to the salon chair that Y/N almost fell out of.

“So I can cut your hair, Mr. Garrick,” Y/N chuckled as she put on an apron, “Now, go on. You here for a haircut, ain’t ya’?”

Kyle did as he was told and allowed her to drape the cape over him, and allowed her to work, remaining silent to not distract her, just watching her work.

“You know you can talk, right? I don’t bite,” Y/N chuckled as she continued her work.

“Y-yeah… I know, just been a while.”

“I can tell. You been away on a mission?”

“Yeah…” He seemed more quiet than usual. Y/N didn’t want to pry too much, but she also didn’t like cutting in silence.

“You good with cassette players? Mine quit working the other day, you think you can fix it, Mr. Garrick?”

Kyle’s eyes lit up slightly, taking her up on her offer, “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror as she continued her work around his head, working on his neck, “Sounds like a plan, just don’t break it any more than it already is, my Daddy gave me that little thing.”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Y/N.”

“Y/N is just fine, Mr. Garrick.”

“Only if you start calling me Kyle.”

—

“What’s that smell?” Johnny scrunched his nose as he and Kyle entered the salon, remnants of hair spray was in the air.

“...because like Mama said, the higher the hair, the closer to God,” Y/N chuckled as she finished spritzing hairspray on an elderly lady’s hair, adjusting minor details in her hair, “And now you’re all ready for your little date with your man, ma’am.” The lady thanked Y/N profusely as she admired her new hair-do. She paid Y/N and left the salon with a smile. But not before she gave Johnny and Kyle a quick wink and whispered loudly, “You’re lucky she knows what she’s doing.”

Kyle chuckled as Johnny kept scrunching his nose in an attempt to keep himself from inhaling the hair spray fumes as he headed towards one of the other hairdressers to get his mohawk touched up. Handing her the cassette player she’d asked him to fix, “She’s good as new, Y/N.” Y/N clapped her hands and gently took it from his hands so that she wouldn’t drop it, but instinctively hugged Kyle, “Oh thank you! I’m so excited!” Blushing slightly, Kyle hugged her back, “Well, you gotta see if it works now.”

Blushing slightly, he turned his head and hugged her back, glad that he wore his cap today. Y/N quickly put it on one of the tables and popped a cassette into it and pressed play. Y/N looked at Kyle and Johnny with wide eyes, a wide smile appeared on her face when Aretha Franklin’s voice began to sing on the little cassette player.

Y/N squealed and nearly jumped up and hugged Kyle once more, “Oh thank you thank you!”

Kyle quickly caught you and grounded the both of you so neither of you would fall. Johnny and the hairdresser chuckled in amusement. Kyle wonders if she had other things that needed fixing.

—

“Y/N.”

“John.”

“What is this I hear about you having Kyle be your personal fixer-upper?” The Captain crossed his arms as he stood beside Y/N as you gave rookie after rookie the obligatory buzzcut.

“What?” Y/N looked up at the Captain in amusement, a little smile on her face. “I asked him if he knew how to fix cassettes, he said yes, and he did.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Then I told him the plumbing for one of the hair-washing stations was busted- and he done fixed it too, I ain’t even ask him!”

“Oh yeah, what else?”

“Hm? Let me think…”

The Captain took a deep breath, then chuckled, “Actually, don’t tell me. Don’t make him do more work than he needs to.”

Y/N’s eyes shot up at him, “Ok well, we have a deal: I deal with y’all’s little rookies, and y’all fix my stuff that keeps breaking every time one of y’all come up in here.”

After a moment of silence, both Y/N and Price smiled in amusement. Once Y/N had finished with the last rookie, Y/N stood beside Price as he rounded them up, “Alright ladies, you know the drill.”

In unison, the rookies saluted Y/N shouted: “Thank you, ma’am!”

Price stayed behind, watching as they walked out, then looked at you, “Thank you, Miss Y/N.”

“It was a pleasure, sir. You want your shave?”

“Please?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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