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headcanonenthusiast · 10 months ago

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COD characters x virgin reader headcanons

This was made with gender-neutral readers in mind. (For most of them, anyway. Valeria's is fem leaning, but everyone else is neutral.)

This will include König, Simon Riley, Valeria Garza, Rodolfo Parra, Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keller and Kyle Garrick.

Yall I accidentally uploaded this when it was halfway done TWICE and in my panic to delete it the first time, I didn't copy everything 😭😭 I'm crying rn/j

Anyways it's a very snowy day, I'm all nice and bundled up, so it's time to write >:)

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

Enjoy!

Alejandro Vargas

-Romantic? Romantic. Let me tell you that every part of your first time with him is so passionate and romantic, it's nearly like a fairytale.

-He won't just dive right in, nononono, like I said, he's a romantic lover. Therefore, to "set the mood", he's either taking you out to a fancy restaurant or cooking dinner for you.

-Then, he's going to give you plenty of foreplay to ensure that you're ready.

-Very passionate sex. Tries his best to go slower for your sake, but something about him being the one taking your virginity raises his ego by 500%.

-"Thats it, mi chula/o (My girl/boy). Just relax, let me make you feel good."

-Will still be sure to leave hickeys on you, though, even if it is your first time.

-In his mind, his hickeys are proof that you're his.

-"There we go, that's better. You look so gorgeous/handsome covered with hickeys."

-Chuckles softly in your ear if you complain about the hickeys. He'll kiss you apologetically and refrain from leaving them. (this time, anyway.)

-Oh, and he refuses to edge you during your first time. He's actually determined to make you cum at least twice. If he hasn't, he's failed you.

-Aftercare includes you being bedbound at least until noon the next day. Alejandro does NOT want you straining yourself, even if you aren't sore. He'll get whatever you want, whether it's food, drink or the remote. The only time you're getting out of bed is to shower, which he'll insist on joining you for.

Valeria Garza

-Really? She's your first choice? Praying for you rn my friend/j

-Okay in all seriousness, as rough as she is during sex, she'll do her best to be gentle. Doesn't want your intro to sex to be a bad/painful one.

-Just because she's being gentler than normal doesn't mean she still isn't gonna boss you around, though. Will ALWAYS be on top, no matter what.

-"Stay still, stay still. You're basically asking me to make it hurt. Is that what you want, hm? To make it fucking hurt?"

-If you listen to her (God forbid if you don't), she'll nod in approval and press a kiss to your clit.

-"There we go, corazón (sweetheart). It's not that hard to listen to me, now is it?"

-If you don't listen to her however, she'll go a bit harder with her strap/fingers. Not as hard as she normally would, but you'll probably be pretty overstimulated.

-"Don't start with that bullshit. I told you to listen to me. If only you had behaved yourself like I asked. Dios, eres imposible (God, you're impossible.), not obeying me yet getting all whiney when I punish you for it."

-Surprisingly doesn't edge you, even if you haven't been listening. In fact, she encourages you to cum on her fingers/strap.

-"Shit, you're gonna cum? You wanna cum? You're lucky I'm feeling generous, especially after how you've been acting. Go ahead, muñeca (doll). Cum all over my strap/fingers."

-Aftercare includes her pressing gentle kisses to your temple and brushing your hair out of your face. You're welcome to do whatever you want after that, but not without Valeria lingering close by, just in case her pretty girl needs anything.

Rodolfo Parra

-Gentle and loving sex? Gentle and loving sex.

-He'll praise you SO MUCH. You could do the smallest thing and he'll just shower you in compliments.

-"Do you have any idea how beautiful/handsome you are, cariño? (Honey/sweetheart) This body is fucking irresistible. What an amazing woman/man/person you are, amor (love.)"

-Moves deathly slow. He's so careful not to hurt you that the actual process of stretching your pussy/ass out takes forever.

-Whispers praises and compliments the entire time, though.

-His hands gently rub your hips in an attempt to soothe you, constantly asking if you're okay.

-"You alright, amor? (Love). Yeah? I'm not being too rough, am I? Good, good. Let me know if it hurts."

-Oh, and his lips never leave your body. Your neck and face especially.

-Aftercare includes the most heavenly massages imaginable. He'll massage you anywhere you want, your shoulders, legs, anywhere you want to be massaged, he'll do it. Similarly to Alejandro, you're also bedbound. Rudy would rather die before letting you do anything after sex, especially your first time.

-And like I said earlier, Rudy has a voice kink. So, hearing you talk afterwards makes him happy. Talk to him about anything and he'll listen so intently while he massages you.

Kyle Garrick

-Like Rudy, constant praise.

-Seems so fixated on the fact that this is your first time, so he's very concentrated on going slow. (In the beginning, anyway. May or may not get a bit drunk off the feeling of your pussy/ass around his cock.)

-The slowest thrusts imaginable. Starts out very shallow, but he'll carefully go deeper into your pussy/ass. Ensures you're ready before, though.

-He also suddenly gains the best hearing in the world. If you make even the slightest sound of discomfort, he'll stop and check in with you.

-"Christ, you alright, love? Too fast?"

-And even if he's going slower, sometimes he'll get so lost in how good you feel that a bit of communication is in order to ground him.

-"Right, sorry, baby. Here-why don't I go at a few different paces and you see which one's the best, yeah?"

-Never makes you feel like you're taking away his enjoyment if you speak up about something you dislike/like. It's only enjoyable to him if you like it, too.

-There is NO such thing as too much talking with him. Please show how much you like/dislike something, and he'll keep it in mind for the rest of his life.

-"Oh, yeah? You like it like that? I'll have to do it more often, then."

-Aftercare also probably includes some chatter. Maybe a quick order of the most delicious food possible while binge watching your favorite show/movie. Oh, and yall are definitely cuddling all night long, too.

König

-So, König is big. And he knows he's big. That's why he's honestly a little anxious to fuck you with his dick during your first time.

-Bro is probably pacing around the room like a depressed zoo tiger for a bit before he sits you down and has a talk with you.

-"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't think you could take me. Especially not as your first time. Are you sure you want to do this?"

-If you ensure that you'll be okay, the foreplay will be insane. He's going to slowly stretch you out over his fingers, gently rubbing your clit/tip with his thumb while making you repeat a chosen safeword.

-"Say it again, liebling (darling). Can you be louder for me? Good, that's a good girl/boy. I want you to say that the moment it starts hurting, okay?"

-He's also gonna eat you out/suck you off as well. Like I said, lots of foreplay.

-And when he does finally start fucking you? He's barely gonna put four inches in. So fixated on not hurting you that he barely realizes that you're moaning softly in approval under him.

-When he does hear those moans, though, he's gonna give you a small smile and ask if you're okay.

-"Aw, listen to those moans. Does that feel good? Mhm, good. Just let me know if it hurts, liebe." (Love)

-Won't even cum inside you the first time if you finish first. He doesn't want to overstimulate you at all. Besides, you're always welcome to watch him jerk off (or even help him out 🤭)

-Aftercare includes you using this behemoth of a man as a bed. You're gonna lay on top of him and act as his personal weighted blanket for the night. Then, the next day is all about you. He's gonna do WHATEVER you want the next day. No food, clothing nor activity is off limits for his perfect liebling ❤

Alex Keller

-If he's your first choice, then congratulations. You have amazing taste.

-Might be biased here bc I find him so unbelievably fine, but Alex would be great as your first time.

-He's just so gentle and attentive, starting by carefully stroking your cock/rubbing your clit to calm you down.

-"Its okay, dolly. I know, I know it doesn't feel good right now. How about I just stay still for a bit, and you tell me when you're ready again, okay?"

-And when you do give permission for him to move again, he's kissing your cheek while praising you.

-"Mm, you're so damn tight. Could spend the whole day in this little pussy/ass and never get tired."

-Ensures that his thrusts are shallow and slow, only going to just behind the tip of his cock and seeing how you react.

-So unbelievably sweet. Makes you feel like the most special person in the world.

-Oh, and he holds your hand. Both physically and metaphorically. He entwines your hands together, talking you through each and every step.

-"Can you spread your legs a little farther, please? Good, that's a good girl/boy."

-Tries his best to make sure you cum first, and when you do he'll carefully fill you up, slowly pulling out to watch it drip out of your hole.

-"Ain't that a pretty sight. You okay, darling? Yeah? Did that feel good?"

-Aftercare will consist of a warm shower/bath together before returning to bed to cuddle all night long. Oh, and Alex is totally kissing the back of your neck as yall spoon, whispering praises and sweet words in your ear.

Simon Riley

-Like König, I feel like he'd be a little hesitant to take you. Not necessarily as anxious as him, but he knows that once he's inside you, he probably won't be great at going slow.

-"Look, love, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I know myself. I'm gonna have a hard time being gentle."

-He can't resist you for long, though. Eventually he does decide to give it a try, but not after the addition of a safeword and physical signals to show if you're uncomfortable.

-Although Simon's unsure at first, he's actually able to keep a clear head and not get drunk off how good you feel.

-Does his best to listen for your safeword or any physical signal that you wanna tap out.

-Because of this, he's more quiet than normal, but he can't help but grunt softly in your ear with the occasional praise for doing so well.

-"You're takin' me so well, love. Good girl/boy, I'm proud of you."

-Because his mind isn't as foggy as he thought it'd be, he's only putting in a few inches. He's sure you'll be able to take all of him eventually, just not right now.

-"Just the tip, baby. No, not puttin' anymore in. It'll be too much for you."

-Gently rubs your clit/tip to soothe you, even if it doesn't hurt much.

-When you cum, so does he. Ghost proceeds to stay there for a little while, doing a quick check in before pulling out and watching his cum drip down your body.

-"Shit, you see what you do to me, baby?"

-Aftercare is similar to what my headcanons on him said. And although he's tired, he makes sure you go to sleep first this time, just so he can admire his gorgeous girl/handsome boy/etc for a little while longer.

YALL ITS FINALLY DONE 😭 I accidentally uploaded this unfinished TWICE and this is my quick attempt at a rewrite. I tried my best 🙏

And I'm sure you can all tell that I had fun w/ the Alex headcanons. I'm sorry but he's just so..😍

Let me know who I should do next!

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zombee · 1 year ago

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I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.

This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.

First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.

Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.

(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)

The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.

ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.

Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.

THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!

Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.

(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)

So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.

And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.

I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes.

So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.

Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends.

…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.

Because it has happened to me before.

I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it.

Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!

I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.

I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.

But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.

So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”

BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!

They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”

As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”

Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.

In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!

It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.

I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”

Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!

I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.

It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.

But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.

Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.

The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.

Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.

· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!

· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.

· Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!

· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.

· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!

· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!

· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!

And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.

But.

Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.

I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2

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dilucsfav · 1 year ago

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Saw that you were writing for re!! Can i request re4 leon with shy reader? Reader usually gets flustered over little things like remembering what they like and small compliments! Reader also likes to cling onto his arm even while cuddling!! (yk how buffed his arm is who wouldnt want to)

YES YES YES. oh my god ive never written for leon before but how about start with my good old fashioned favorite (and hopefully you guys like it too) random hcs & scenarios :)

yes, i know how buffed his arm is. i would gladly hold it, too.

please dont hate on me if hes not very canon LMFAOOO, like i said ive never written for him before so hopefully these are alright ahh!

once again, another request i could not WAIT to write😭

enjoy!! :))) make sure to take time for yourself today, you deserve it!

Leon Kennedy RE4 hcs & scenarios with a shy!reader!

warning(s): the usual nsfw that i put in these, yall know the drill

before you two even got together it took a LONG time for him to confess (lord almighty knows the reader wouldnt do it for this hot fucking man with the absolute godly DUMPTRUCK he was blessed with)

^^ because leon may be tough & a fighter, hes also cheesey as fucking hell. making the worst jokes, a tease, etc.

your shy reactions from his jokes made him think you didnt appreciate them, even though you just didnt know how to respond😭, that meant it took a while before he was actually like-

"... Uhm, we should go... get a steak together, yeah? Just you and me?"

^^while nervously sweating n shit cuz hes scared he'll freak you out because of how shy you are

surprisingly to him, though, of course you said yes! just... maybe not as smoothly as he hoped. his awkward ass just kinda saying "cool," while youre twiddling with your fingers and its just a little awkward silence that he tries to relieve with a little chuckle 😭😭😭

honestly, though, you two hit it off just fine when you finally got together!

Leon is a very busy man, though, so being with you 24/7 was out of the question- it was simply impossible :(

Especially if you two were living together, and he had to go on missions, you often felt very alone & sad. Days (most of the time, weeks) of distress, worry, & crying, wondering if Leon was okay and assuming the worst happened to him.

By the time he returns, though, you are wrapped around him like a magnet. You would give him such gentle care, often wrapping your arms around his arm, your fingers clinging onto his upper arm just like glue

^^especiallyyy when you two are in public. when you meet some of leon's friends, you often cowered shyly just behind him with your hands on his arm. He wasnt bothered by it, in fact, he LOVES it because it shows your trust & how comfortable you are around him, which took a very long time for him to gain :)

leon often compliments your eyes. omg.

^^ he would hold you cheek & tilt your face, examining your eyes with a gentle smile.

^^ "Pretty thing, you are. But you already know that, now, don't you, (Y/N)?"

guys guys i personally hc this but when you guys are in public and its super crowded areas he would lead and put his hand behind him, moving his fingers to catch your attention so you can hold his hand & he can lead you through the crowd sjhdjasdjk

^^I personally hate how overwhelming crowds can be, & Leon knows how shy and timid you can be. We love our sweet boy🫶

his favorite place to hold you while you two are kissing is the side of you neck baebhjafsbjsbjkj OR LIKE JUST UNDER YOUR JAWLINE YESSS YOU ALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!!!!

also, when leon returns home after an incredibly exhausting mission, you are the first person he wants to see, no question about it. despite all the dangers and traumatic things he's seen on his missions, he trusts & loves you enough to feel safe in your arms.

he is a fucking DORK, makes the shittiest jokes and youve just learned to love them <3

his favorite cereal strikes me as either being frosted mini wheats or rice krispies? i could be wrong though tbh

THATS SO FUCKING RANDOM IM SORRY YOU GUYS LMFAO

speaking of food, he would spoil you ROTTEN with your favorites snacks, meals, drinks, anything you desire. and he'd remember every little detail about your favorite foods, least favorites, etc.

^^ OMG FLOWERS TO! he’s definitely a gift giver no doubt

i think he'd like your arms & tummy a lot though :) i can see him give so so so many little tummy kisses and shoulder kisses and wrist kisses and ahhHAHDHAH

you still get a little shy around him from his compliments & how much physical attention you get & he finds it adorable🥲

nsfw:

speaking of physical attention🌝

favorite sex position? fucking missionary. one hundred fucking percent.

god damn.

GOD DAMN.

especially with you two, its such a loving & trusting & pure relationship, it would be so intimate and ahahdjksahj

kissing through the. whole. thing.

also he'd be so sore & tired all the time from missions, he would get so flushed & feel so loved because you'd kiss the parts that hurt him & his scars & you would rub his muscles and djkasjbdasjdnkj

^^ as would he kiss your scars & any place you are insecure about <3

nah yall.... sex with him for the first time- HELP ME HE WOULD;

"Can I--, put... here... inside you, (Y/N), can I..."

STOP IT WOULD BE SO CUTE BUT SO FUNNY 😭😭

^^ in all seriousness though, it did take a few times for you two to be truly comfortable. At first it was very shy, but shit as time moved on? it was still intimate but FUCKING DAMN IT GOT HOTTER

when he has news he has to leave for a mission? he'd fuck you into oblivion until youre just sick & tired of sex (should i write a fanfic of that, somebody pls request it if so-)

hes such a dork, sometimes he makes sex so funny that it wouldnt even be uncomfortable or awkward, just straight up funny

sex would be pretty vanilla unless you asked otherwise. i think he'd take both of your hands and hold them above your head tho🌝🌝

^^you would get super nervous & embarrassed and your hands would try to cover yourself up, or cover your mouth or face from how hot you felt-- he fixed that RIGHT away and from then on he made sure he could hear all your pretty sounds

"Babe, you feel so, so fucking good... you keep your hands right up there, you hear me?"

^^ WHILE HES JUST DESTROYING YOU AND FUCK

yes, i did say it would be intimate. but did i ever say it wouldnt be rough? absolutely not.

^^bed shaking, the LOUDEST fucking noises coming from both of you guys because i just KNOW this man hits all the good fucking spots.

i say fuck a lot but thats just cuz i want leon to fu-

anyways.

#leon kennedy #re4 leon #re4 #leon x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil leon #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fandom #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons #leon headcanons #leon scott kennedy x reader

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bl00dlight · 3 months ago

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I fucking loved all the points you made for the Helaemond argument. But what do you say when Alysmonds say " But Aemond x Alys are canon in the book cause they screwed and had a baby"? Cause I get a lot of that argument all the time. Or I get "but the Helaemond romance is only one-sided because Aemond is the only one eith feelings yoward Heleana....and I know Helaemond fans are going to have yo hear that argument after everyone sees the finale. How do you stand up to both those arguments? Thoughts?

LMAOO I love yall. I'm turning into Helaemond's solicitor, my ass is getting LEGAL advice for ship court battles.

No but that's easy.

1) Alys x Aemond bastard isn't 'canon'. It's alleged. Like Alys claims it's his son? But it's impossible to know if that was true? It's similar to Mysaria. In the books it was claimed she was pregnant with Daemon's child but in the show they made it fake. It's also not recorded on any Targ family tree lines that Aemond has a son. It's hard to say what Alys even was, it's said she was a bedmate but then there are also ideas she was a widow? Fire and Blood is confusing and it's supposed to be. There isn't much detail or really that much trustworthy material in it. So I guess we'll have to wait and see.

I don't really know, if they'll go down the some route with Alys and Aemond. She's a really different character, drastically different. She isn't a wetnurse either it seems in the show. So personally I think they'll go down the route of she is going to bewitch him out of self preservation. After what we've seen of her, I really enjoy the fact she seems to lowkey hate men. So I can't say I can envision this Alys being genuinely devoted to Aemond. Considering how she treated Daemon and he did ALOTTTT less to the Riverlands. Aemond straight up starts to fucken burn shit up, and massacre men, women and children so....

2) I honestly think Helaemond is more likely than not going to be one sided from Aemonds part IF its romantic. I don't think Helaena as we currently know her - is really that connected to reality anymore.

#hotd #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #targaryen #got #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #rhaneyra targaryen #daenerys targaryen #helaemond #helaena targaryen

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ultimateloserboy · 3 months ago

Text

// TW R-pe and p-do references cuz theres insane shit going on rn??? just a vent or rant or whatever im sorry

i genuinely want to vomit right now i cant believe you people are trying to claim bill fucking cipher is a R//PIST i want to throw the fuck up. i fully respect you and understand if bill and fords situation in the book triggers you but to claim he ever SAd him is a flat out lie and fucking disgusting.

you people dont give a fuck about actual victims you just want to have the moral high ground and its going TOO fucking far now!! telling people theyre as bad as r//pists and p//dophiles because they read the OBVIOUS subtext in a DISNEY OWNED fucking book is insane. genuinely fuck you.

again, if their relationship triggers you i have no ill will towards you and i respect you fully, but to claim its SA or telling other people theyre real life CRIMINALS over gravity fucking falls is batshit crazy dude.

as a victim of multiple types of abuse, yall arent fucking helping anyone, actually!!! yall have triggered me more and made me more sick then the book did!!! because you’re actively claiming that ME as an individual or others like me enjoying or exploring a concept are just as bad as OUR real life fucking abusers!!!!

im on the verge of throwing the fuck up and crying right now. every time i open the fucking gravity falls tab i see silly posts of bill and his little stupid exes and its funny and here comes some asshole telling me im just as bad as the man who abused and assaulted me!

“this is so bad think about real victims!” i AM a real victim and ten minutes ago i was laughing or admiring silly memes or beautiful art exploring a fictional, IMPOSSIBLE relationship. but now i can feel my abusers hands on my skin!! Thanks a fucking lot, jackass!!!!!

bill cipher was a huge comfort when i was like ten or however old i was. gravity falls was an escape from my abuse. and now im being called just as bad as my abuser for enjoying and exploring the actions of the character i loved in my childhood. victims can never have anything because you people constantly want to remind us of our trauma or guilt us when we’re not your perfect little uwu ass victims!!!

and no!! two consenting grown ass men isnt pr//ship just because its toxic!!! this isnt p//do or inc//est and yall need to stop pretending it is!!! this is genuinely a harmful way to look at things for media as a whole!!!! fucking stop!!! please!!!!! stop comparing anything morally debatable to that shit!!!!!!!!

#im sorry im not going to tag this for anything its just kind of a vent #tw rap3 #tw pedophila mention

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ma3mae · 2 years ago

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How much do you want to bet that Tecchou has a god damn bug collection and he just shows it off to you proudly😭 "Babe come look it's my favourite beetle boogahooga" I JUST KNOW HE GIVES EITHER THE MOST BASIC NAMES OR LIKE "MEGA BLENDER X300 MAX"

Also I love your writing so much omfg😔🩷🩷

Don't be so antsy!

Summary: It's been a few months since Tetchou declared his love for you and he couldn't be happier, especially after finally showing you his treasured collection! But how will you react?

Genre: FEAR 🤡 because insects... Also cracky and a bit of fluff bc i just love him so much 💕😭 slight suggestive hint at the end 🤓

A/N: FOAMING AT MY MOUTH FROM EXCITEMENT!!!! still cant believe that u love my writing 😭😩fangirling so hard rn, time to print, frame and hang this onto my wall. No one can stop me 😤😤😤

Suehiro Tetchou

You knew about his adoration for bugs even before the both of you got together

It wasnt smth he'd be talking about for HOURS bc its just a topic never really spoken about

all the other hunting dogs know about it but... they wanted to spare u LMAO 😭

like u accompany him to his work place and his colleagues r outside of the dooe, waiting for him so they can leave

u r like waving at them and teruko waves back but yall r just caught off guard when jouno YELLs out of nowhere "MOVE YOUR DUMB ASS ALREADY OVER HERE 💀💀"

Like was he yelling at u??? Yall we dont know who he lookin at bc HOW 😭😭😭😩 srynotsry

But u realised who he meant when u looked behind u and tf 🤨🤨🤨

Tetchou just EMERGES out of a fking bush and 🤨🤨 is that 🤨🤨 a random ass bug in his hand 🤨🤨🤨 he got KIDNAPPED

"But I found this cool grasshopper... His name's Bush."

"DONT GIVE IT A NAME! PUT THAT SHIT BACK ALREADY AND M O V E"

Jouno is just seconds away from beating the shit out of him bc

"WHERE'D HE GET THAT JAR FROM???" "Teruko, that's not important. Make him HURRY UP ALREADY"

"Can we take Leaf with us?"Jouno is already taking his sword out to kill that thing 💀💀

cue a RANDOM ASS FIGHT 💀💀💀

"PUT IT BACK AND LETS MOVE YOU FUCKER" "No, I won't let you hurt Omega 300 GT 5" "Wait I thought his name wa-UGH IDC ILL KILL THAT THING FFS"

tachihara just turns away with "k, think im walking home already BYE"

teruko just yanks him back and the other boys too so that they can finally leave

"Can I take him wit-" "No. I know you like these kinds of things but no. Also if you want that thing to actually LIVE then put it back bc u know who will exterminate the shit out of it." "Hm. 😐"

He just walks up to u and goes "can u take this. please"

U cant say no to his puppy eyes 👁️👁️

You're just so confused but maybe its also cute??? U just thought that its a little interest in him but BOY

It wasnt so little as u thought 🤓 LOL i gotta get my head out of the gutter

********

Holding hands while going on a stroll was something you'd often find yourself doing during your free time together, especially when the sun was shining so brightly while a fresh spring breeze would occasionally sweep through the air.

Humming a random tune while you lightly swayed your joined hands back and forth.

Tetchou couldn't help but let a soft smile grace his lips at the slightly childish action.

No words could describe how much he enjoyed your leisurely strolls together. It would be seen as a nearly generic thing to do together as a couple but for him it was a time to be treated as sacred. Where else could he tuck your hair behind your ears when the wind would blow through it? Or where else could he see the sunlight make you shine impossibly brighter in his eyes, almost blindingly so?

But what really excited him were the "little" discoveries you'd make on your way.

And oh wait? What's tha-

"Y/N."

Hearing your name made you about to turn your face towards him yet there was no need!

Since your boyfriend forgot how strong he was...

Yanking a bit too hard on your arm made you hit his chest with your back, a small "oof" slipping past your lips.

"OUCH, Tetchou??? What in the-"

"Look."

"Huh?"

You let your gaze follow the direction his outstretched arm, finally stopping at what he was pointing at with his index finger.

To your not so much surprise it was a-

"It's a colony of ants. Look at how hard they're working, Y/N."

Before you could even think of stopping him, he had already moved towards them, crouching down to get a closer look.

You let out a sigh yet couldn't help smiling at his endearing but also random antics.

No matter how many times it would help, it never managed to not be funny. The Hunting Dogs were known for how powerful yet also how "eccentric" the members were, yet witnessing it for the first time and continuing to live with it never failed to bring a smile on your face.

Especially with just how cute your boyfriend looked right now! The way his eyes would twinkle at the mention of insects was something you personally could only understand but never relate to.

As much as you would love to go along and try to enjoy it with him, you kinda wanted to continue on your walk.

Because when he's focused on something then it would be a real nuisance to get him away from it.

But that's not a problem for the love of his life, right?

*********

Jokes on you, it actually was 💀

Like u got a hunch hes doing it on purpose when he pulls his puppy eyes and that barely but noticeable enough atleast for you pout on u when u said

"I love you, but i kinda wanna yk walk?"

"But Y/N 😟. *points at the ants* only for a minute, please 🥺"

YALL KNOW 😩 YALL KNOOOOW ITS NOT GONNA BE A MINUTE 😔😔😔

Your legs gonna start cramping from watching these fuckers crawl around??? Nah no one CARES 😤😤 jk jk

our cutie tetchouie would NEVER ignore his partners needs okur okur

Like hes already whipped from how we r atleast TRYING to enjoy what hes enjoying

He knows how unlikeable these little crawlers i hate bugs can be but his s/o is trying so hard and he just 🥺🥺🥺 looks at u wirh heart eyes

dw if u cant walk, he'll give u either a piggyback ride yall being cute 😤💕 or the classic bridal style 😩

And dw if he finds another interesting bug but his hands r occupied? Nah, he gon GET THAT ANYWAY

*********

"ACHOO"

"Bless you."

"Thanks." You told him as you lightly rubbed your nose with the back of your hand. You loved his hair but it would often tickle your nose whenever you'd try to look over his shoulder as he was carrying you on his back.

It was one of the small ways of him apologizing to you and enduring his antics.

His heart would nearly suffocate him from how much it would swell whenever you'd just reassure him that it was totally okay for you. If he loved ants then it's just what he loved and as his partner, you'd be open for everything that makes him happy.

Yet he still tried to keep it down around you so he was often a bit torn between.

"Ah. Wait is that...?"

Oh no.

You knew it.

You knew what was about to happen next.

Before you could stop him, he was already walking off of the path and into the field.

A whine got past your lips yet he seemed too caught up in his fascination of...?

"A horned beetle!"

Some meters above you, sat a beetle on a branch, seemingly undisturbed by the both of you and yet in Tetchou's eyes, it equaled a sacred national treasure.

A treasure that he wanted to get his hands on.

"Hold tight, Y/N."

"WAIT N-!"

Hooking your arm and legs tightly like a koala around his body, he made a leap for it. You didn't know HOW he managed to do it every time but there he was.

Jumping onto the tree and quickly pulling a tiny jar out of a pocket in his blazer (you don't even know how he even hid that...) and-

"I got it!" He exclaimed in happiness as he jumped down, holding his hand onto the open jar. Screwing a lid onto it, he gave it a quick glance before putting it back into his pocket.

Noticing that you were slowly losing your grip on him, he hooked his arms under your legs, hoisting you up again before almost nonchalantly continuing your walk as if he hadn't just jumped up a tree for a beetle...

"Uhm, you don't wanna stare at it or something?" You asked, genuinely surprised yet almost regretting the question since it could change his mind.

"No, I can do that at home. Your legs are hurting after all."

A smile spread onto your lips at his kind words, only spreading further after hearing a slight hitch in his breathing as you let your lips graze his neck before planting a kiss on it.

"Anything for my love, you know? By the way, have you thought of a name yet for your new little friend?"

"I have but-"

You felt him tighten his grip around your legs before he suddenly began to pick up his pace, walking in long and fast strides.

"Want to be home as fast as possible, so we can you know..."

He peeked over his shoulder to see your slightly reddened face before looking forward, strongly focused on one thing.

"continue what you've started."

A small laugh slipped out of him, your nose tickling his neck as you hid your face in it, immediately knowing what he was implying and well...

You weren't complaining.

********

No one would have expected it but... our boy's pretty easy to rile up 😤😩

yall think he cute and innocent?? Nah nah he wanna get into that shi* too like hes a whipped and legit down bad man for his love rightfully so ✋✋

dw after yall r done, he'll def bring back the topic of "naming his friend/-s" and welp

u better be ready to spend ur weekend on that kinda thing 💀💀💀 and yall gonna settle on the either cutest or most ridiculous shit...

Its either "Groundbreaker 500, The Nightmare of All" or "sugarberry twinkle star" 🤓🤓 if he wants to honor the place he found it (like in the beginning ^), uhhhhhh 🤨

This btch's name is gonna be "leftover bread" or smth bc it was on it when he found that thing💀

yall cant convince me otherwise BYE 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

LOL, this got way too long and i kinda got carried away but that always happens with him 😩😩😩 maybe rushed at the end but i hope u r happy with this @soysaucefu 💅💕💕

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd tecchou #suehiro tecchou #tecchou x reader

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soaps-hoe-141 · 1 year ago

Text

Back Together

The rewrite has begun, I hope yall enjoy this new start. Been hella stressed out lately bout going back to university next week so thank you for being patient with me. Hope yall enjoy

Part 1

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 7.7k

Summary: Dropping some OC lore, starting earlier than the original Back Together because I had ideas. Got some pining from a distance. I hope yall enjoy. Fair warning no actual Ghost sightings in this one just Soap's gay thots. That man is fighting for his life for real

Warnings: Lil bit of violence

A chill ran down his spine as every muscle pulled taut and his fingers dug into the warm flesh of a thin shoulder, his other balling the sheets up into his fist. Azure hues were shut tight, darting about behind his eyelids as he fought some internal war that the other person laying in front of him couldn't quite understand. His partner hadn't been there, he hadn't seen the things he had and he hadn't been there when everything had gone to shit. How could either of them ever truly understand one another when they hadn't experienced the same things. It had been fight after fight after fight since Soap had gotten back from Chicago and this certainly wasn’t the first night that he’d woken the other up with his shaking and hastily muttered words. However, it was the first time he’d been woken up trapped in the Scot’s grip.

The blonde had never known a moment of peace where Soap’s mouth was in consideration. He’s always talked in his sleep but after Chicago it wasn’t the light hearted whispers he was so used to. It wasn’t warm arms pulling him closer with a soft smile on his face, not anymore. Instead there were fingers digging into his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, the other’s hands shook even where they held fast, and sweat was covering every inch of skin on his muscled body. His forehead was soaked enough that even the short hairs of his mohawk were stuck to it.

Gray eyes shined where the moonlight struck them at just the right angle. The man was no stranger to violence or the nightmares that it could cause. This though, this scared him, more than that truthfully, it terrified him. The way Soap was holding onto him, he’d never done anything like this before. Sure he’d been waking up most nights since he’d come back but he had yet to get physical. Mostly it was an errant toss of an arm over the bed, or the typical shakes, it was never accompanied by the pain that was blossoming on his upper arm though.

A flash of something passed over his typically smiling features, something that made the wiry blonde flinch and the flat of his palms fly up to the strong chest in front of him. The moment he moved though, the moment his hands touched Soap’s bare skin the flash of azure made him go still. He hadn’t meant to wake the other up, it had been an instinctive reaction, just a quick reflex to protect himself. It didn’t seem that the dark-haired man in front of him would agree with that though, not with the way his eyes went wide and the grip on his shoulder got impossibly tighter.

And then what Thomas had been most afraid and had least expected happened. The hand he’d balled into the sheets flew towards the thin throat. Wrapping around it in an iron grip that had his gray eyes widening even as he stayed dangerously still. Fighting him would only make things worse. It would only trigger that fight or flight response that drove men like him. Thomas was no stranger to war himself but he didn’t fight, not like Soap did. He handled numbers, logistics, supplies…Not this.

Gray eyes stayed locked with azure as the two remained in a deadlock. The pale face before his eyes began to go red in a few seconds, the hands on his chest retreating up his forearms to grasp at the wrists. Thomas couldn’t help it when his foot thudded against a shin, fear pulsing through his mind even more steady than the pain there. His mouth gaped as his lungs begged for air even as Soap refused to give it to him. The long fingers around his wrists began to loosen their grip as the other tried to keep his eyes open, and still he didn’t fight back. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

Blonde hair caught the light of the moon, shining a pale white in the darkness. Light gray eyes were turned into the same shade as the shaft of moonlight that ran down his face before disappearing behind the cloud cover once more, both almost completely white and translucent. They were as far from the bastard who’d drug him towards that open window as they could get. Not Hassan. It had been a dream. This was not the man who had tried to kill him. That had been a nightmare, this was real, bloody hell this was real.

“Thomas…” He whispered quietly as azure eyes widened in surprise and his gaze swept over those familiar pale features with an unsure look. They weren’t pale anymore though, they were red and turning purple the longer he watched. And yet still the man in front of him didn’t move, he stayed shockingly still even while his short, blunt nails dug crescents into the inside of his wrist. Slowly his eyes turned down until he saw where the pain was beginning to blossom on his skin and where strong fingers were wrapped around the long, skinny neck. His fingers.

It was him killing, it was always Soap dealing death like cards in a poker game. It took a long second for his hand to respond to the command to release but when it did the gasp he both heard and saw made guilt settle in his stomach instantly. The hands latched onto his wrists released just as quickly, flying to where Soap’s had been a moment before as if to assure himself his windpipe hadn’t completely collapsed. He was fighting to catch his breath as he rolled to his back taking in gulps of air as he rolled away. Soap pushed himself up with one hand, his eyes dry as he blinked the sleep out of them and tried to follow. His mouth opened in shock as he tried to soothe the innocent man he’d very nearly killed, “Shite, I’m sorry. It’s okay, Tom. Aye yer fine.” He was reassuring the other just as much as he was reassuring himself.

The apologies flowed from his mouth in a steady stream as he tried to ease the guilt settling like murky depths in his thoughts and stomach alike. Thomas though was actively refusing to look at him, keeping his back to the younger man even as Soap reached out a hand towards his thin shoulder. A choked, “No,” escaped past his lips the moment he felt the warm touch of his hand. Blonde hair shifted atop his head as he jerked to look towards it and slapped the typically soothing gesture away. Pain was radiating from where his other hand was covering the sensitive area of his trachea, shying away from the touch he typically leaned into. Shifting even closer to the edge of the bed he ducked his head, rubbing at the place where hands had nearly killed him moments before.

Fear had been what had kept him still in the face of what would have been certain death had he fought back against the killer he’d chosen to share his nights with. Even still he nearly met his untimely demise at the hands of the man who he’d never thought would have laid a finger on him, not in a bad way anyway. This was the man he thought he’d loved. Now fear ruled every action and response as the blonde scrambled off of the bed. Soap watched with a furrowed brow, beginning to start towards him until the tall man backed himself against the desk and pushed his back against the edge of it. Still avoiding his gaze as if meeting it would scald the both of them.

Thomas was still struggling for air, swallowing hard as something caught in his throat painfully and he let out a shallow cough in response in hopes of dislodging it. The pit in Soap’s stomach continued to gape like an open wound, his worried gaze locked on the pale form as the urge to help, to do something continued to pound in his thoughts. Despite what had happened he still wanted to protect the other from what he’d done, from the pain he’d just caused without even really meaning to. Thomas’ breaths were barely making it through even after the strong hands had released him, his heart still racing as the adrenaline in his veins coursed through him.

They were both hard pressed to see in the darkness that had prevailed in the minutes between Soap’s waking up and now. Even the moonlight from before was shrouded behind a thick cover of clouds, the pale face of the sun’s lover no longer providing its much needed light. The tall blonde couldn’t see the regret and guilt already evident on Soap’s face but the tension and fear was palpable in the room. They both knew what the other felt without needing to see one another to deduce it. And it was Soap’s fault, he’d done this. He needed to make it better, fix it if he could but how? “Are ye ok, Thomas?” His question was barely above a whisper, just audible in the close quarters of his room and the only thing he could think of to say now.

At first there was no response and a cold sweat beaded up along his brow, it took only another moment of silence for a feeling like ice dripping down his back to accompany it. His skin dotted with goosebumps as the chill of the room began to settle into his bones. There was a quiet sound a couple feet in front of him, the clearing of a throat that he recognized after the tall man did it again.

Finally he received a whispered answer, “I’m ok, John. I just…” His voice trailed off and the Scot shifted on the bed again, trying to maneuver closer only to hear a picture frame on the desk fall backwards as Thomas stumbled into it. Soap could imagine the other man’s wiry form as he tried to put distance between them only to find there was no more room to scramble backwards. A hole opened in his heart at the thought even as the strangled voice spoke again, “I need a second, ok?” There was fear there even as the other man tried to hide it behind a thin veil of strength that Soap couldn’t believe.

Moments of silence passed between the two as the seconds began to tick by. When the ragged breathing finally started to even out along with his rapid heartbeat Soap was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching the pale form in the darkness with concern written plainly over his face. Finally the tall man spoke again after taking a deep, settling breath, “John I know you didn’t mean it but…” His words trailed off again into the darkness of the thin-walled apartment.

The pit in the other man’s stomach felt like a massive sinkhole now. His chest was hurting more than any bullet or knife he’d ever taken. It wasn’t often things stuck with him, especially not like this last mission had. It wasn’t even the danger that had him so hung up on it. Yet he still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that had him so worked up. Death had come knocking at his door on more than one occasion, Hassan hadn’t been the first and he certainly hadn’t been the worst so why was the entirety of that mission burned into his mind like a brand? Tattooed across the inside of his eyelids like some sick and twisted movie.

“Tom I’m sorry, I wasn’t tryin tae hurt ye. Ye believe me, right?” The gray eyes barely caught a shaft of moonlight but it was enough to cause another wrenching tear at his heart. He pushed himself up slowly from the bed, reaching a hand out towards the pale figure that was just barely visible in the darkness. “Lay down. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” When his fingers brushed against smooth skin he felt a flinch away from him and he was quick to pull his own hand back. Of course the man didn’t want to be touched, he’d nearly killed him.

Thomas didn’t move though, not until Soap side stepped him in the narrow space between his desk and the bed. It was then that the tall, wiry man stepped forward to settle down on the edge where he’d been sitting only a few moments before. Pale fingers running over the warmth of the dark sheets that Soap had left behind before his face turned back to find him. He couldn’t see the others' gaze but he could feel it on him, quiet and cautious in the darkness of the night as the Scotsman turned his back to investigate the barely visible desk.

A light wooden frame had been knocked over and he was quick to pick it up, but he felt the way it seemed to wobble in his hand. Soap was barely holding on now as his hands shook and his jaw tightened after he realized it had been broken in the other’s haste to get away. No need for Thomas to know that though, it would only make this whole situation ten times worse if he thought he’d messed something up too.

Soap was quick to grab the sketchbook off the desk as well, forgetting momentarily that there were others hidden inside the drawers of the desk as he made his way out of the room. “I’ll see ye in the mornin’. Get some rest, Thomas,” there was a quiet huff of agreement from the other man as Soap hung his head a bit and shut the door of the bedroom behind him.

The dark hallway had his eyes narrowing as he tried to make his way through it back to where the small combination living room and kitchen area were. Darkness surrounded him, seeming to cut off every other sense just as much as his sight. As close to a sensory deprivation tank as he’d been since they’d thrown him in one for a training session years ago. He’d long forgotten about it before he was standing there knowing the couch was somewhere to his left and counter to his right but having no idea just how far they truly were. It wasn’t like he knew this apartment like the back of his hand, he rarely spent time here, it was more Thomas’ than it was his.

Even with his one hand reaching out in search of fabric he failed to find it until his thigh slammed into it and he let out a strained noise that he did his best to suppress. Last thing he needed was to wake Thomas up for a second time, the first time had already been bad enough after all. His fingers finally found the back of the couch after a moment of blind fumbling before his hand slid along the back of the couch and he rounded it, laying the picture frame and the sketchbook down on the side table. Then he took a step towards the wall and slid his hand along it in search of the light switch. His partner needed sleep, but when it came to himself he had no intention of doing any such thing. Not tonight anyway. There was no telling what he’d do to Thomas the next time he let himself sleep.

As his hand hit the switch and the light overhead flashed on he flinched, eyes shutting tight as they tried to adjust to the sudden intake of visual stimuli. Sparks flashed behind his lids for a moment before he managed to crack one open and make his way back towards the couch and took a seat with a loud huff of air. Exhaustion was still settled heavily in every limb, gravity was taking its toll near tenfold as Soap tilted his head back against the couch cushions. His mind was now whirling with thoughts as he tried to put the pieces of his psyche back together into a seemingly whole piece.

Every breath turned into a weight on his chest, making his ribs ache with the pressure despite the fact that nothing was there to make it so. The fear in those pale gray eyes continued to flash in his mind like a ghost and a warning all in one. Just the fact that he knew that it was him who had caused it only made him hurt even more. His finger picked absently at the corner of the sketchbook while his teeth chewed at his bottom lip in time with one another.

Ghost had saved him, he hadn’t let him go out that window. So why did it feel like he was still standing on the precipice, dangling over the edge like he was in a movie and these were those seven seconds he got before he died? It was like he was stuck in the moment and waiting for the shot to come from somewhere behind him…But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was back in the United Kingdom and he was safe. Well relatively speaking anyway, so why was this hitting him so hard? Ghost had been there, he hadn’t died, he’d made it back home, he had Thomas beside him, it had been a good night before…The corner of his mouth turned up in a bit of a smirk as he thought to himself, ‘A very good night.’

And yet every time it seemed to be going well with Thomas ever since he got back he always ended up back in that little circle of Dante’s Inferno with Ghost and he was just merely trying to survive. Running on adrenaline and fumes to get himself out of the raging fire that he’d been tossed into with only the Lieutenant’s witty commentary and amazingly terrible jokes to get him through it. It was almost like he couldn’t get the man himself out of his head rather than the entirety of the mission itself. He never replayed that godawful tank fight in his head with Rudolfo. It was only ever the moments in time where Ghost was involved. Like that man was the epicenter of every single thing that had happened there rather than the mission objectives themselves. What the hell was wrong with him?

A low sigh left him as he pulled the sketchbook open to flip through it with pursed lips. It wasn’t likely he’d be going back to sleep tonight anyway, might as well occupy his mind with something that wasn’t just disappointment and shame for the way he’d been conducting himself of late. Stupid little drawings littered the pages, animals of all sorts, landscapes, patterns that stuck in his mind like the lyrics to a catchy song. Never people though.

There was no real reason behind it. He’d just never had the itch to draw another person before. Well…Not until recently anyway. Every time he woke up from those nightmares he was greeted with the desire to create. A want to capture more than just the likeness of a landscape was floating around in his mind now. Patterns accompanied it, but unlike those that he usually drew that were geometric with no real discerning objective, these were part of a larger scheme. They danced around in his thoughts as his finger tapped against the blank page that stared back at him just aching to be filled.

His teeth worked harder at his bottom lip then, his fingers beginning to itch with a desire to doodle over the paper despite knowing it was a bad idea. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d capture a likeness he wasn’t really meaning to. A burning impulse was stuck in his mind and he was trying desperately to ignore it as his foot tapped against the hardwood floors. But then again, when had Soap ever been known for his impulse control? Never. Before he even really knew what he was doing he had pulled the pencil out of the spiral binding and had it in his hand as he set himself to work.

Even his mind worked seemingly without thought, honestly when did it ever work with it? Before he knew it an outline of a pair of shoulders were taking shape. Anatomy had never been something he was good at, it was one of the many reasons he always hated the way people looked when he drew them. They always just looked…wrong.

These shoulders though. A flash of heat found his cheeks that he barely even registered as he drew them. They were broad and angled a bit weird but still Soap pressed on through it, wanting to see what else his mind could put onto the paper. It wasn’t even a fight anymore to ignore every warning bell that was telling him not to continue. He’d been fighting the urge to put pencil to paper for weeks now because he knew if he did this would be the only thing he’d be able to think about. Now though the urge was too strong. It was an impulse he couldn’t control and if he were being completely honest he didn’t really want to control it anyway.

Hips took shape next, not much thinner than the shoulders even though he knew somewhere in his knowledge of anatomy they should have been. Not here though, they were meant to be broad. An errant comment from his mind fell out of his lips as he smirked down at the page and whispered, “Bastart is broad everywhere.” Similarly the legs were beginning to appear on the page amongst the many lighter strokes of the pencil. Hell, even the figure's neck was thick, and the hands surely would have been as well if they weren’t hidden inside of something at the place where the figure’s stomach would have been.

It started out rough, like he’d been etching something into a piece of wood rather than outlining on a piece of paper. As his mind formed the figure with more surety though he began to clean the lines up, losing even the errant thoughts that had been floating around as he lost himself to the bursting flow of creativity. He’d locked it down so long it was an inevitable rushing forth of the tide that was his artistic side, and for the first time since he’d gotten back he felt happy, content, excited even. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself.

When he'd started he hadn't really had an idea who it even was he was drawing. Another lie he was repeating in his mind to keep that painful bite of guilt at bay. In truth every thought since he'd come home had been dominated by a single face and name, and it wasn't the man that should have been occupying his every thought. As much as he denied it, and made excuses to himself he was infatuated by him. In awe of his reputation and awestruck by the attention the other paid him without really even seeming to think about it. Every time he heard his name come out of the other's mouth he felt a giddy sort of excitement. An unexplainable tingling of nerves in every limb and down his spine that had him tensing up and somehow simultaneously relaxing around him.

This should not have been a feeling that he got when talking to his Lieutenant, that much he knew and it somehow only made him want to feel it even more. He was not only his superior but also a man who was not his fucking boyfriend. The man he’d been living with for a month and that he'd been with for ten months now. It should have been the pale, skinny blonde he was infatuated with. Not the tall, broad, scarred halfway to hell dirty blonde with hazel eyes who gave him orders nearly every day.

But it was. Ghost had captivated every ounce of his attention and he couldn't seem to stop his hand from drawing the form he could only dream of underneath those clothes, and Christ almighty had he dreamed of it. There was yet another reason to feel guilty for something it felt like he couldn't even control. Of course he hadn't outright cheated on Thomas but every time he even thought about hazel eyes or the ink scrawled along his thick forearm it felt like he was.

And just as the thought of it crossed his mind it appeared on the paper seemingly of its own volition. Darker lines etched in a pattern that had been eating away at his psyche one day at a time since he’d first seen it driving in the busted up truck they’d driven out of Las Almas in. He wasn't even sure he was the one drawing this anymore to be completely honest. Something had to have possessed his hand, just taken hold and refused to release him until it was finished.

It wasn't until he started to add the features of the face that he felt a hint of control returning. Steering himself unconsciously away from drawing the features he remembered, only barely, that were hidden beneath the mask and instead drawing the mask itself. The barrier between Ghost and the rest of the world. His hands were hidden in the pockets of his jacket and the hood was pulled up around his head covering dirty blonde hair he knew was hidden beneath. The hazel eyes he couldn't seem to forget were darkened by shadows but it didn't take a genius to figure out who the person in the drawing was.

Whether Soap thought it was a good likeness or not, whether he found the lines to be wrong and some things to not look just right, there was no doubt it was the Lieutenant who stood in the middle of that page. With the fabric clinging a bit too tight to his shoulders and he wasn’t sure if that was because he’d drawn the man’s shoulder’s so large and out of proportion or if he’d done it on purpose. Maybe a bit of both? Probably a bit of both. After all no one ever drew someone as hot as this by accident, even if he wanted to believe he had done it because he’d been compelled to it didn’t matter. He knew somewhere deep in his gut it wasn’t true.

A sigh fell out of his mouth as he ran a finger over the figure, smudging the lines slightly as he did. Caressing what his imagination had created and creating shadows over the figure’s front at the same time. The dark graphite clung to his index finger as he lifted it to take a quick look, rubbing his thumb over it a few times as he continued to contemplate the drawing and every detail he found himself undoubtedly hating and simultaneously enjoying it all at the same time.

It was wrong, he shouldn’t have drawn this man, and yet just the sight of the terrible little sketch made his lips twitch in an attempt to smile that he suppressed nearly immediately. Because it was wrong. This whole thing was wrong, he never should have let himself draw it. If he was going to fantasize about other men then he shouldn’t even be with Thomas. Christ.

His hand flew to the remote on the table beside him, pressing the power button a few times until the TV on the wall finally flickered on. It was the middle of some shite movie, probably went straight to DVD considering how late it was playing. Some American movie about partying and college life or whatever the fuck they did over there rather than studying. He made an attempt to relax back into the couch cushions before his leg began to bounce once more and his mind wandered from the late night movie and back to the face he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

“Fuckin hell,” he growled to himself as he tossed the remote down onto the couch along with the sketchbook and stood up with a huff of air like he’d made a decision. He had. Hungry. That’s what he was. Nothing else. Well hungry and thirsty. Yeah, he was just hungry and thirsty. He stepped around the end table and made for the kitchen in search of something to sate the hunger he imagined was gnawing at his stomach now.

It didn’t take long for him to fish around inside the cabinets of the kitchen and pull out a bag of crisps from their hiding place before he looked it over in a rush. When had Thomas bought tomato ketchup crisps? He hadn’t had these things in years and it was just nostalgic enough it was all he wanted right now. That man was too good for him and that was a fact. Why was he so bad for him then?

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard something moving inside his room through the thin walls. ‘Be quiet John, fucks sake,’ he thought to himself before the movement in the other room quieted finally. A light sigh left him before he opened the bag and set them down on the counter next to him. The fingers on his freehand tapped in a steady rhythm on the counter next to him as his eyes turned up to the TV to watch the movie despite his better judgment.

Graphite smudged on the counter tops, turning small spots of the light material into a smattering of his fingerprints that would give a forensic specialist a hard-on. His attention was far from any movie, food, or the countertop he was beginning to stain now though. Even as he shoved a few crisps into his face he couldn’t stop thinking. For one moment could he just let Ghost fade away? The man was god knows where in the world right now and he wasn’t his problem. Thomas was a room away and he had problems far greater than a fantasy he was drawing up about the Lieutenant he couldn’t get out of his head. He needed to focus on the immediate world around him for once, Christ’s sake.

“He’s probably hunting wolves or some stupid shite,” Soap mumbled to himself before he realized that he had said that aloud and glanced around a bit nervously as if expecting to hear a voice asking, ‘Who is out hunting?’ However, it didn’t come. He was alone at least as far as the kitchen and living room were concerned, and there was no way Thomas heard him mumbling through the walls. At least he hoped there wasn’t.

It didn’t take him long before he was drifting towards the cabinets once more and pulling out a bottle of Bacardi before heading back to the couch with the rest of the crisps and his newly acquired bottle of liquor. Cheap and fast. Chase those thoughts away as fast as possible cause otherwise his head was going to fucking explode.

He sat with his feet up on the couch and one arm behind his head to prop himself up while he watched the TV. His other hand was busy unscrewing the cap of the bottle. He didn’t bother to really look at it while his attention stayed on the screen mounted to the wall. Soap had been drinking for a long time now, and yet he’d somehow kept it from being a crutch for his mental stability. Yet for tonight he’d let it win, that little voice that told him to just drown it all because bloody hell all this anxiety was just getting him wound up too tight. Like a rubberband ready to pop under the stress.

The sketchbook mocked him every second he laid there from the other end of the couch. His fingers fidgeted on the neck of the bottle and the edges of the bag as he tried to put his mind somewhere else despite the hazel eyes that continued to flash in his mind like an ill omen. His defeat was near and it was that big cunt that was going to assure it. A long drink pushed the face back from his immediate forethought as he sighed and tried to settle into the couch cushions even as they made his neck and back ache.

Poor Thomas shouldn’t have to deal with him, with any of this shit really. He deserved better. Hell the man had been working his ass off for the past two years, ever since he joined the military. The last thing he needed was a partner who was thinking about other men and tried to kill him in his sleep. And even as he tried to hate himself for it, tried to be disgusted with himself, he couldn’t quite manage it.

How was someone so callous they couldn’t even feel bad about not only fantasizing about another man, but also fantasizing about a man who had never even asked for it? It was disgusting. He was disgusting. Sure Ghost had given as good as he’d gotten, but it was Ghost. The man had the social IQ of a fuckin donut, had the fucker even known what he was doing when he’d flirted back so easily? Probably not.

He rolled over on the couch to his side, trying to put the sketchbook as far into the back of his mind as he could manage. Taking a series of deep breaths he focused solely, or so he tried, on the movie that was playing. Wasn’t easy though when he’d already missed half of the damn thing and it wasn’t exactly interesting to begin with.

“Christ,” he huffed under his breath before he lifted his freehand to his eyes and rubbed at them. They felt dryness and gritty but after a few seconds of rubbing it finally started to ease. And then he was back to drowning the thoughts once more in the bottle of rum. Anything but the thoughts of those broad shoulders, the scarred skin that sat beneath the mask, and hazel eyes that he was slowly but surely turning into a slave for.

~~~~~~(Morning)~~~~~~

“What the fuck, John!?” A loud voice cut through the pounding in his skull. It jolted him awake just as something that was meant to be soft but that the speaker had turned into something that was almost rock solid slammed viciously into his face. “I said, what the fuck, John,” the voice reiterated much louder this time. The pillow from his bed fell off his face and into the floor as he sat up as quickly as he could manage and his eyes shut against the sudden brightness of the living room lights.

Only a groan came from the Scotsman as he tried to gather his thoughts from the night before. The last thing he remembered was eating those chips and then…A movie maybe? Rum. Definitely rum. Rum always hit him hard, not as hard as tequila shots but it wasn’t that much further off. Tentatively he cracked open an eye as he turned just in time to catch Thomas leaning down to grab the empty bottle of said rum off the ground.

Fuckin hell. He’d drank the whole damned bottle? Why hadn’t he thrown that shite away? Oh christ he was gonna regret th- “Why the bloody hell were you drinking last night?” Gray eyes shot across the open space between them as Soap fought to pull words from the depths of his thoughts. Must have been a rhetorical question though because the moment that he raised a finger to stop the other for just a moment Thomas pushed onward with his endless interrogation, “Were you drinking before you came to bed last night, John?”

The azure eyes widened a bit at the accusation as the memories of last night resurfaced and he shook his head. A flash of pain flared behind his eyes both emotional and physical as he shifted towards the edge of the couch, “No, Tom, I wasn’t fuckin drinking. Well not before, ye know, what happened- What I did, I mean…” It seemed that the taller man wasn’t taking the answer either way though. Not with the way his thin lips pursed in barely contained frustration at him.

“We’ve talked about this, John. Alot. You can’t just shove it all down and drink your cares away. It isn’t healthy, my love.” It was clear that worry was driving him. A prick of fear that maybe Soap had finally given in to those urges after so long fighting them down. Even in the frustration of finding him hungover on the couch at 6:00am the man was still more worried about him rather than the purple bruises that had already appeared on his thin neck.

Thomas stepped closer to the couch as Soap continued to fight an internal struggle in regards to his infatuation. The bottle was still in the Brits’ hand as he began inspecting the other items cluttered about that he must have forgotten getting out in his drunken haze the night before. His voice, still marred by frustration, was now tinged with worry as well, “If your head wasn’t feeling right you should have come and talked to me, it isn’t like I slept much last night anyway. You need to start talking to me more, John. That was the whole reason I moved in with you. We weren’t seeing each other enough, remember? The communication wasn’t there. And we were doing so much better before you left on whatever the hell that was,” the pale blonde hair shimmered in the light as he shook his head and sighed, trying not to push too hard so early in the morning.

This was a conversation they’d had before, of course. Not a bit of it was new to either of them, in fact it was all becoming so tiresome now especially with how much his skull was beginning to pound and how early it was. Neither man was in the particular mood to hash this out but hash it they would if that’s what Thomas wanted. Even if part of him just wished that the Brit would stop fucking asking about all of the shite that had happened while he was away. He couldn’t say anything about it whether he wanted to or not.

Words continued to pour from the pale, blonde’s mouth like a torrential river. Fast and unrelenting in its current. Saying things that Soap couldn’t bother to listen to anymore while he tried to nurse his hangover by tuning out the main source of his growing headache. Well he couldn’t be bothered until he saw a hand reaching for the things piled at the end of the couch. Before he could remember just why that was worrying him though the hands had already grabbed the opened sketchbook. Thomas didn’t even react at first as his eyes stared in what seemed akin to confusion before the pale hues darted to look towards the Scot and then back down.

“Who is this?” Who? Who the fuck was who? Soap’s head lifted a bit, the fingers he’d been using to massage the bridge of his nose stopping for a moment while he looked up at the blonde. When his shoulders shrugged in a noncommittal answer along with a subtle shake of his head the other man set his jaw in annoyance, now that was a look the Scot was coming to recognize well. It reminded him of when he’d been scolded as a child, or when his parents had shamed him for something he’d done wrong. A mental punishment in contrast to the more physical skelpt arse he usually received.

When he didn’t answer though it only seemed to spur the other’s emotions on, it wasn’t hard after a sleepless night though, “I asked you who the bloody hell this is, Soap.” Sure he’d asked that, but it was beginning to sound like less and less of a question and more and more like a demand. Pushing himself to his feet the Scot took a step closer, holding out his hand for the sketchbook, only for Thomas to purse his lips a bit more at the action. Rather than handing it over he merely turned the book around to show him before demanding again, “Tell me who this is.”

A spark of rebellion flared in his mind at the command. Nay the order that Thomas was leveling at him. His teeth dug into the meat of his cheek, quite literally biting back a hasty retort that he could feel itching the tip of his tongue. After a night of drinking and no sleep it seemed the both of them were on the edge of their sanity when it came to one another.

Soap tried to come up with as calm of an answer as he could with the growing headache and hard-to-answer questions being thrown about the living room so early in the morning. “It’s just a person Tom. Someone I thought it might be interesting to draw, you know?” Soap’s eyes flicked down to the face in front of him, a bit of shame rising in him as he saw the figure of Ghost staring back at him. Not just the figure though, hazel eyes were currently holding him hostage with their intensity just like they did whenever he saw him in real life.

When the fuck had he drawn Ghost’s face? Hell when did he have the time to color that face!? His breath was stuck in his throat as Thomas withdrew the proffered sketchbook and started flipping through the pages with narrowed and critical eyes. It was like he was looking for something else to get angry about now. Christ he probably was with how he’d been demanding to know who the figure he’d drawn even was. Thomas had always been a jealous one and it was no different now, the man didn’t even have a real person to question him about and yet he was still pissy. About a fucking drawing.

“John I’m not a bloody idiot, you don’t draw people. You never have. And here you are drawing this guy repeatedly. Why?” A sense of stubbornness kept him silent now as the other tried to force an explanation out of him. No doubt his anxieties were driving him up the walls, but Soap’s own were no less shy about making their appearance in this early morning hangover haze. “Is this who you were with in Chicago?” The question slammed into him so hard that part of him wished it had been an actual truck rather than words.

A smattering of syllables fell from his mouth as he tried to form a coherent thought to answer, yet none found him. The only thing he could manage was a look of shock and surprise as if Soap was questioning the absolute audacity that the tall, blonde had to even ask that. Thomas wasn’t even supposed to know he was in Chicago and here he was accusing him of…something. He wasn’t quite sure what it was yet, but there was definitely an accusation being leveled at him right now.

Before he even had a chance to answer him though the Brit sighed and tossed the sketchbook down with a shake of his head, “I’ll take that as a yes and your famous, ‘I cannae tell ye that Tom.’” The other man mocked his accent as he pushed by him with a hard slam from one shoulder to another. He probably deserved that but that didn’t mean Thomas should have done it.

Another wild round of words fell out of his mouth then as Soap started after him with a hasty explanation, “Aye, I cannae tell ye, but just because I can’t doesn’t mean what yer thinking it means, Tom.” The blonde busied himself at the kitchen counter as he grabbed his keys and kept his back facing the Scot with the petulance of a child who was ignoring their crush because they’d said something they didn’t like. “Would ye stop for a second? He’s no one Thomas. No one that mat- He’s just no one. He saved my life and that’s all I can tell ye, okay?” There was a pleading tone in Soap’s voice now, near begging for the other to drop it and just accept what he could tell him which sadly wasn’t all that much.

In a moment Thomas whirled on him, his pale face turning red with frustration and a building sense of anger now. “He’s no one? He’s bloody no one! If he saved your life he’s not no one, John. He’s someone. And if you’re drawing him, he’s more than just someone. Do not fucking lie to me, I don’t appreciate lies and you know that.” Soap groaned a bit as he stepped back, resting his backside against the couch with his hands braced against it. Fingers dug into the fabric of the couch as Thomas grabbed his bag off the ground next to the door.

He tried to take a step forward again as he pleaded, “Thomas Wade would ye just hear me-”

“No!” He stopped with his keys in one hand and the other on the door handle before he took a breath and shook his head, “I’m done hearing you, John. I’ve been hearing you out since you came back last month. I’ve been patient and I’ve been understanding, but you have hurt me in more ways than just one. And last night was not the first time,” he barely managed to get the last words out as Soap sighed and his teeth bit into his bottom lip, chewing at it as he took the verbalized anger that the other was throwing at him. “You won’t even say that you love me, you call me Tom like we’re just mates or some shite, so right now I’m leaving. And you can figure your shite out on your own time, I’m done.” The door swung in on its hinges as Thomas pulled it open and started out before reiterating, “I’m fucking done, John.”

#call of duty #ghost cod #ghost #soap cod #modern warfare #soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #slow burn #soap mw2 #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #cod modern warfare #cod

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sugar-omi · 2 months ago

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BIG FAT ORANGE CAT. I LOVE IT HERE. YOUR CAT IS MINE NOW RUNS AWAY WITH MY TIDDIES OUT

DUUUUUDE. i would've crashed out so bad omfg the sibling interrupting trope is SO GUT WRENCHING. (and can probably relate to olba. somehow.)

BUT LIKE YEAH NO IT GOT HOT. LIKE WE WERE MAKING OUT FOR A GOOD LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES. HIS TONGUE AND FINGERS WRE IN MY MOUTH ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. MY SHIRT ALMOST CAME OFF. I STILL HAVE HICKIES.

and GOD. the way he was fucking whining and panting into my mouth the whole time?? the way he made it impossible to arch with how heavily he was pressing against me??? the way he pulled away at the end of it breathless and whimpering, begging me to "stop feeling so good against [him] before [he stopped] being able to hold back"???? i had to take the bus home because if i let him drive me back to the dorms i would NOT have gotten back before midnight.

we agreed not to put a label on it yet, that we'd keep things light until we figured out what we both felt and what we both wanted without jumping into anything too early...BUT THE TEXT I GOT THIS MORNING. "but i wouldn't mind if we did. that. again"

HHHOOOOOOLY SHIT. OMI THIS CANNOT BE REAL.

i am now making it my mission to seduce this man into being all mine. i'm committed now.

STOPP NOOO HE DIDNT SAY THAT!!! NO WAY!!!!! usually im not crazy over the "i cant hold back" line but im so obsessed rn.... he's literally whipped. obsessed. a ximi lover. XIMI KISSER!!! HES LOCKED IN!!!!!

ALSO FINGERS ARE CRAZY. THATS. OH MAN THAT IS 🥵🥵🥵 AAAAA ALSO YESS HICKEYS ARE SO CRAZY. I LOVE IT.

AND PRESSING SO HARD AGAONST YOU YOU CANT EVEN MOVE BACK INTO HIM.... OHHH THATS SO COVE CODED. IM WRITING THAT DOWN RIGHT NOW

N THE WHIMPERING. PLEASE. THATS SO CUTE???? I need that so bad. oh my god. I cannot go on....

arghhh you would've had to pry my cold dead body off of him what the FUCK. I LOVE THIS!!! YAYYY!!!!

slow is good. slow is super good. definitely communicate what you want, like if you're a long-term girlie or if he's a long-term girlie but the other isnt/hasn't said that, jus go like "i wanna see how long this lasts bc this relationship feels really good so far"

(must say. idk whats in yalls head, so im jus talking to you like i would any of my friends okie<3333)

or even if ya don't know if you're a long-term type! or whatever!!! I think saying you wanna see how far this goes bc you're having a good time already, is good. it's like. no pressure yk. just wanna explore how deep the water is and enjoy it, and wherever it goes, you're happy with it

n ofc say if you'd like it to be a bf/gf thing. like "I'd like to be committed but rn I'm happy to see where it goes bc I rlly like you (and i wanna get there if possible)"

BUT YESS I SO AGREE WITH YOU ABOUT SEDUCING HIM. LOCK HIM UP!! PUT A RING ON IT!!!!!!

I told u I would immediately be planning our wedding, I can't so slow i am locked in IMMMMEDIATELY!!!

BUT DOMT BE CRAZY LIKE ME LMAOOO JUST HAVE FUN!!! GO ON DATES N STUFF!!!!! omg yknow what. fill out those like, friendship questionnaires. and those partner ones. like it may have things u might not have thought to know abt each other

like some things jus come naturally, but I think a quick way is cute, and sometimes stupid, and mundane dates, and questions like you're back in middle school

eeekk I can't believe we've made this much progress in jus a few DAYSSS IM SO OBSESSED 😫 u must tell me how things go.... my dms are wideeeee open 🥹💞

#✧ naeomi chats

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wilders-girl · 2 years ago

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Gilded City- Part Two

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem! Reader (Batman in there too hehe)

Rating: Pretty PG !!

Warnings: Mention of a strip club, implied sexual harassment in the workplace, overall pretty fluffy though

Word count: 2,596

A/n: hey everyoneee 😏 excited for yall to read this insanely long chapter (bc I got carried away). It's a lot of cute shit with the one and only babygirl Brucie pookie (I regret typing that.) Anyways enjoy!!!!

≿━━━━༺🦇༻━━━━≾

The concept of darkness wasn’t a frightening one. Not to me. Not when I’ve lived like this for so long; embracing the unknown, living comfortably with fear. Darkness was a reality.

I woke up enveloped in darkness.

I remember the heavy shroud of black that anesthetized me before, but opening my eyes to the same darkness was unexpected.

Strangely enough, I still didn’t feel afraid.

I felt the reeling delay of movement and my head spun. I groaned, but it reverberated in my head and I felt much worse. I finally creaked open my eyes to see that I wasn’t walking, but getting carried.

A sudden fear paralyzed my body as I began to recall what happened before I blacked out. One of them kidnapped me.

I tried to focus my cloudy eyes, wincing at the sensation of my pulse hammering in my ears. I mustered up enough strength to move my arm up to push his face and hopefully cause him to stagger so I could run.

Wait, what was that?

I squinted, craning my neck to look up and find that the strange material I felt was the vinyl-esque material of a mask.

The pieces didn’t click for a long while. My eyes were still focusing and unfocusing like a broken digital camera trying to process the image in front of me.

There was a silence before he sharply inhaled, his lips pressed into a line, and looked me in the eyes.

With a slow exhale, he blinked a couple times like there were tears in his eyes. Haint blue eyes looked down at me. They were the saddest eyes I’ve ever looked into, yet they filled my senses with deep solace. A warm breeze blowing through the ancient porches of the South. A lonely mourning dove crying out in the pastel, temperate mornings of a better place.

With the softest, most gentle eyes, he placed me down even more gently onto an impossibly soft surface I realized was my bed. I felt I was losing consciousness again, but I fought it. I wanted him to stay with me forever. I hadn’t felt safe since I moved to Gotham, but he made me feel vindicated. My salvation.

Slowly, he slid his hands out from under me and turned to become one with the shadows of my apartment, fading into nothingness just as he’d appeared.

I reached a shaky hand out towards him.

“Wait.” I whispered, noticing white bandages littering my arm.

He paused briefly, turning his head to look at me but not his eyes.

He was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

“Stay.” I pleaded under my breath.

He shook his head and I noticed his body tense like he was restraining himself from moving. His fists were balled, shaking angrily.

Finally, his hands opened up and he breathed deeply.

He looked at me with those sad eyes again, this time filled with remorse.

They spoke for him. “You know I can’t do that. You don’t know who I am, what I’ve done.”

“Will I see you again?” I asked foolishly. I knew the answer.

All he did was shake his head bittersweetly.

“I hope not,” he murmured.

And with that, my angel flew away.

—

His voice was absolutely irresistible. Rich and smooth like the finest cognac, but it burned your throat all the same. It was weathered, husky. Dark red velvet; the heaviest, thickest curtains blocking out the piercing, blazing light of Arizona. Or maybe the endless torrent of rain that Gotham eternally seemed to sport. A safeguard against the harsh, loud world outside.

I couldn’t get enough.

I thought about him a lot over the weekend as I tended to my wounds. The violence that happened to me was almost a memory thanks to whatever magic he worked. I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t all just a dream. He appeared and disappeared like a true shadow, just like the legends- the rumors.

But he’s a man. He’s real. I know that now. To a criminal, of course he’d seem like a wraith that silently kills in its wake. Somehow, that wasn’t the same Batman I met in my room that night.

I want to say that my questions are answered now that I’ve interacted with him. But that would be a lie. In fact, I have more questions now than I started off with.

Why did he save me? Chasing the scum is one thing, but to aid the victim is something else in its entirety. There were rumors he gave up on being “vengeance”. Maybe this is what he meant; to have a heart.

By the following Friday, I was feeling well enough to walk around my house almost like normal. Looking at the barren state of my fridge, I decided I needed to go grocery shopping whether I liked it or not.

Around 12 pm, I stepped out into the cloudy day, waving down a taxi to get to the produce store easier. I couldn’t walk the whole way, and I knew not to get cocky lest I broke something else.

—

“Have a good day honey!” The sweet auntie smiled after ringing up my groceries.

I shot her a quick smile in response, heading next door to the chinese bakery to get a quick lunch.

It was relatively empty for midday, but I jumped on the opportunity to get two fresh BBQ pork buns. The man behind me in line seemed relatively familiar, but I didn’t recognize him until the cashier took the name for his order.

“Sorry, just a couple more minutes, okay?” The chef leaned over the counter with an apologetic smile, snapping me out of my shock.

“Yeah, no worries!” I reassured her, trying to ground myself as the man stood a polite distance away from me also waiting for some buns.

I must have been obvious in my shock, as I heard a quiet chuckle next to me.

“You know, out of all the bakeries I’ve been to in Gotham, this place has the best pork buns.” He spoke lightheartedly.

I nodded, looking at his face with furrowed brows to confirm to myself that this was, in fact, who I thought it was.

Dressed casually in a grey layered sweater and black jeans, it was hard to believe I wasn’t dreaming again.

“Yeah, they’re great. Especially when they’re fresh.” I stammered.

“Worth the wait huh?” He cocked his head at me.

“One hundred percent.” I smiled back, feeling a little less awkward.

“I’m Bruce.” He extended a hand casually.

I shook his hand, momentarily getting lost in the feeling of his cool grip before remembering to introduce myself too.

“Bruce, and…” The chef struggled to read the cashier’s handwriting of my name on the ticket.

“Thank you.” I responded, sporting her a forgiving smile.

I heard Mr. Wayne give his thanks to the cashier, and I prepared to wrangle all my bags for the taxi ride home.

“Do you need any help carrying those?” He asked softly.

“I’m alright, thanks.” I laughed, flustered. “I’m taking the cab home, so it’ll just be a battle getting all my stuff in one of those little things.”

“Ah,” he nodded, pursing his lips. He then paused to think for a second.

“If it’s alright with you, I could drive you.”

The proposal had my eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to,” He quickly interjected. “Gotham’s not a safe city by far.” He looked away, a hard expression on his face.

“My car’s a little bigger than a cab, though.” He joked, seemingly pushing himself out of the headspace he entered.

“I- yeah, um…” I shook my head, trying to comprehend the situation. There was no way this was happening to me.

“Sure,” I sighed. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He looked down at me, hints of genuine surprise in his eyes.

Such pretty eyes. The fluorescents did them no justice.

“I’m not parked too far from here,” He spoke in that quiet way of his.

He took the grocery bags from me before I had any time to protest, and began to walk outside, holding the door for me as we left the bakery.

I stepped wrong on my injured leg and had to limp a little right before getting to his car, and he looked at my leg with a strange expression. His eyes flicked to the white bandage peeking out of my sleeve and then back to my leg. The expression was mostly sadness, but I saw fragments of regret and guilt in his eyes.

For a second, I thought I saw those same sad eyes that I’d been thinking about all week.

Popping open the trunk, he placed both of the bags in the back of the car.

I opened the passenger door and sat down, buckling myself in as the intrusive thoughts seeped into the forefront of my mind. I wondered if this was the last time anyone saw me. I just got into a stranger’s car, no questions asked, with the justification that he was driving me home and he was famous. Maybe also because he was good-looking.

Something was seriously wrong with me.

Before I could overthink any more, he stepped into the car and turned the key.

Soft music started playing, and I quickly recognized it as Depeche Mode. I couldn’t help but smile a little, knowing a literal millionaire liked the same group I did.

“I used to have a motorcycle,” he hesitantly said after pulling out of the parking space.

“I ended up getting rid of it.” He finished after a pause.

I nodded.

“Always good to change things up.” I responded politely. He was trying his best to keep small talk going, but it wasn’t working. Poor guy, he probably hasn’t spoken extensively to a civilian, like, ever.

“Which way are we headed?” He looked at me ruefully.

“Ah, right.” I totally forgot he was taking me home. “You can drop me off at the strip club next to the karaoke bar. I live close by.” I auto-piloted the answer, forgetting that not everyone knew where I worked.

My face slowly heated up as I realized and I struggled to explain myself.

“It’s just a big landmark, you know? Not like I go there or anything, I just…” I sighed.

“Wow, I really wish I’d have chosen anywhere else.”

I saw the corners of his mouth turn up in almost a smile in my peripheral vision, and my face heated even more somehow.

“No worries, I get what you mean.” He responded.

A silence ensued, shifting from awkward to comfortable, as Policy of Truth played softly in the background.

“Never again is what you swore the time before,” I softly sang, tapping my fingers on my leg to the beat.

“You know this song?” He asked, turning his head to look at me briefly.

“Yeah,” I laughed. “They were one of my dad’s favorite groups.”

“Good taste.” He responded simply.

The rest of the ride was a comfortable silence. I still couldn’t believe I was being driven home by Bruce Fucking Wayne.

He’d gotten more involved in society recently, no doubt trying to fix that broken reputation of his. The news never spoke of him except to call him a shut-in. They described him like a traitor; one of Gotham’s biggest failures. No wonder he tries so hard these days. Who knows, maybe him driving me home was all a really well thought out publicity stunt.

Everything in the news got amplified when the Edward Nashton fiasco was at its peak a couple months ago. They call him The Riddler. Sure, the guy’s in jail now, but the damage he did impacts us still.

They only got the city fully de-flooded a couple weeks ago. Socially, of course, the impact was even more profound. He created an army of people who thought they could kill the Batman. The message of reforming the city got lost, of course. People want an excuse for violence and now that they have a target, it makes it so easy for them.

It had to be hard for Bruce, too. Being excluded and looked down upon if at all from everyone to suddenly being thrown into the public eye must have given him whiplash. The Riddler targeting him in his attacks was simultaneously the best and worst thing that happened to his career. I guess not much changed, though. To everyone in this city, he was a sob story before and he still is now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as I felt the car stop a little ways away from my workplace.

He didn’t look over at me for a minute, hands still on the wheel, blinking quickly as if he was trying to figure out what to say. I decided for him.

“Thank you a lot, Bruce. Truly.” I smiled at him.

“My pleasure.” He awkwardly smiled back like he’d forgotten how.

We were quiet, just looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. His forced smile melted into a genuine grin. He sharply inhaled, breaking the silence.

“Right, let me help you get your bags.” He popped the trunk, then stepped out of the car; I followed suit.

Wordlessly, he handed me my groceries and pork buns.

“I guess,” I hesitated, looking away for a moment. “I’ll see you around?”

“Probably.” He simply stated. “I hope so, anyway.”

I couldn’t help but smile up at him. This had to be a dream.

“Thanks again.” I spoke softly.

“Of course. Get well soon.” He ended the sentence with my name, then got into his car.

I started to walk away at a brisk pace, eyes slowly widening as I realized he said my name.

Bruce Wayne remembered me.

Suddenly, the cold weather wasn’t a problem for me anymore. I was as hot as an oven with a fever, walking as quickly as I could to my apartment.

Shutting the door behind me, a wide grin broke out on my face and I practically skipped to my fridge to shelve my groceries. Replaying various moments of my afternoon, I giggled like a maniac and tried to remind myself that he was a stranger to me, and treated me with regular levels of politeness.

“Get a grip!” I spoke out loud, shaking my head. I was disappointed in myself for thinking about him like this. “No more thinking about Bruce Wayne.”

—

I spent the rest of the day thinking about him, so that wasn’t helpful.

I sat in bed with a cup of tea and reviewed the text I was about to send to one of the girls I worked with.

“Hey, just wanted to tell you I’m coming back to work Monday. If you’re working over the weekend, can you tell Joey? I tried texting him but got no response.”

The last part was a lie, I never texted my boss. He always took my texts as invitations to come over and “help relax my muscles”. I never let him, thank God.

I pressed send, knowing she wouldn’t respond until the morning if she was working.

Laying in my bed after finishing my tea, I realized just how tired I was, and went to sleep almost immediately.

I dreamed about the Batman, as I do most nights, but this time Bruce was there too. Two incredible men I didn’t deserve and barely knew I existed were taking care of me like I meant something to them.

Only in my dreams.

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