#and I'm looking at the price now that I'm an adult and I have to buy it myself and HOLY SHIT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 1 year

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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

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youkaiyume-art · 1 month

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Hey guys, in case you haven't caught wind of the fuss lately, Patreon has recently updated their policies regarding what is and isn't allowed on Patreon regarding Adult content. This is mainly in response (as it usually is) to pressure from payment processors like Mastercard or Paypal, that does not want to be involved in NSFW content that could be potentially illegal so they'd rather just not want to deal with adult content in general. Because of this, Patreon is becoming more and more strict about what content they allow here. One of the ridiculous changes for example is somehow the people/characters in your work need to be explicitly stating their consent.

I would hope.... that my characters look like they are heartily giving their consent in all of my work??? Even if they're not like, saying it in obvious speech bubbles or something.

I will be honest, as of right now I'm not sure if any of my content is in violation of it's new policies but many adult content creators such as myself are already worried. I will continue to upload as usual for as long as I am here, and I would hope that all of my patrons who subscribe to my page know exactly what they signed up for and what they want to see. But in just in case, I want to let you guys know that I have made a Subscribestar.Adult page!

It is a subscription based platform for creators much like patreon, but this one is built with adult creators in mind from the start and has been operating for years with a good track record for trust. I am slowly uploading all of my exclusive content over there, but it's been like four years, I have a lot of things to upload! But my hope is that it is backup platform in case I am kicked off of Patreon for some reason. Pricing and tiers will be the same, though as of right now I am not offering merch reward tiers on Subscribestar. This might change in the future once once I get my bearings on there a little better.

AGAIN I will still be uploading content both to patreon and subscribestar.adult/youkaiyume! However, if you would like to support me over on subscribestar or would like to switch, do check out the link! I hope to continue to give you the smut you deserve!

#patreon #psa #subscribestar #signal boost

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Sizes. (141+Alejandro x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, gang bang, rough sex, double penetration, pretty much porn without plot, read at your own risk

Fem!Reader

(Summary): 141 decides to have reader see who's dick is the biggest after a night of drinking.

A laugh leaves your lips as Gaz jokes with you. He’s been chatting you up for a while. A mission went a little south, everyone had been battered and bruised but everyone made it out alive. Which is the important part.

Price decided to let everyone have a couple days to themselves to heal and feel better, which meant everyone gathered up every bit of alcohol they could find and met in the lunch room to drink.

It had been a few hours and everyone was drunk. Glossy eyes, red cheeks. Lazy smiles. Everyone talked and laughed together. You and Gaz were listening in on a conversation Soap and Ghost were having, a debate. On which of them had the biggest dick.

You sent Gaz an awkward laugh. “What the hell are you two on about?” He interrupts their conversation. “We’re talking about who has the biggest dick. I think it’s me.” Soap crosses his arms. Gaz smirks. “Mmm. I think you’re wrong. I think it’s me.”

By now, everyone’s attention had been grasped. “Let’s make a bet then. Who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah, but how are we going to know?”

"Uhhhhh. Y/N! Y/N can be the middle man, ah? How does that sound?" Soap says. “Um. Excuse me?” You laugh. Looking up from your drink.

"We wanna know who has the biggest dick between all of us." Your eyes widen. "Yeah. Me too.” Price says, walking toward the table. “Christ in heaven, you’re all just a bunch of teenage boys in adult male bodies.” You cover your face. “Come on Y/N. Help us out.” You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

------

"Alright. So.. In order. I don't know, do you want details?" You ask. "Sure." Alejandro asks.

"Alright, Ghost won by a landslide. I'm just gonna say that now. As for the rest of you. Soap and Price have almost the exact same size, Price has a little more girth on Soap, but other than that.. Alejandro and Gaz are pretty close too, but where they lack in girth they pick up in length so. I don't know. All of you are 6 inches and above."

"Soft?" Gaz asks.

"There's a woman playing with our dicks, Gaz. Full confidence I'm above 6 with a semi." Soap laughs. You roll your eyes. "Anything else you need me for? Or can I go wash my eyes out with bleach?” You laugh. All eyes are on you, a break of awkward silence. “I’m gonna take that as a no.” You laugh awkwardly, pushing passed Soap.

"Wait." Soap grasps hold of your arm. "Need ya for one more thing." He smiles, pulling you back. Each of them moving toward you, forming a circle around you. "Uh.. What is going on?" You ask. "Trying to give you a couple more sins to wash off, señiorita." Alejandro smiles. "What?" You look completely confused.

Soap pulls you into him, breathing up against your ear. "We already know what we need to know. Just want to know, which of us can make you cum the hardest.” He breathes. “I-I” you blush. “Shhh. Relax sweetheart.” He chuckles. “You’re so tense.” He breathes out, nose brushing up against you cheek. “I.. I don’t think I understand.” You breath. He pushes you back up against the table behind you, lifting you up onto it. “We’ve talked about it. A lot.” Alejandro smiles, brushing his hand up your thigh. Soap still has his hands on you. They’re all staring at you like a pack of wolves, ready to devour their prey. “I just don’t think this is a good idea,” you try to stand up but Soap pushes you back. “Relax. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“Here.” Price passes you a cup. It’s full of some kind of liquor. “It’ll help.”

Your chest raises and falls, nervousness settling into your chest. All of their eyes are on you. You stare between the cup of liquor and them. This was their way of asking for consent. If you take the cup, they’re going to ruin you.

Who are you to ruin their fun?

You take it from his hand and tip back the entire cup of liquor in a few huge gulps, flinching. Each of them getting an evil grin on their lips.

Soap helps you undress, grasping the hem of your shirt and raising it up over your head. He watches the way you start to relax into his touch, the liquor you had helping ease up your nervousness. “Lay back.” He mumbles, you obey immediately, something he takes a liking to right away. He grasps your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down your legs, panties going down along with them. You’re completely exposed to them, and you can hear their bodies moving around, belts coming off, clothing moving against clothing as they undress themselves around you. “Gonna ruin you, Cariño.” Alejandro mumbles, he’d moved around the other side of the table, his face near your head. Gaz stood to your left, still undressing himself. Ghost to your right, Soap between your legs. The only person you didn’t see was Captain Price, maybe he’d changed his mind. Soap slides into you unexpectedly and a gasp leaves your lips, but gets muffled as Alejandro slides himself into your mouth. You moan around his shaft as Soap starts to hammer his hips into yours. Gaz moves toward you, lifting up your hand to place it on his cock. Ghost doing the same to your other side.

For a few minutes, the only thing you hear are moans and groans, coming from each of them. They’re so touch starved that even just small brushes against you have them groaning out. Ghosts head is tipped back as you move your hand fast against him, he’s holding his shirt up over his stomach, watching the way you pleased him. Gaz is doing the same on your other side. “Fuckin hell.” Soap gasps, holding your thighs up as he fucked his himself into you. “You’re dripping around me sweetheart. So perfect.” He gasps, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit as you squirmed around him.

Alejandro is still fucking himself into your mouth, you’re sucking back as hard as you can and his thighs are shaking, trying desperately to hold himself together. “Little slut is good at this ah?” He smirks. Hand moving down to cup your breast, giving it a small squeeze. “Getting me close already, you want me to fill this mouth?” He breathes. You moan around him and he smiles, gripping into the table. You could feel the table shaking violently underneath you at Soap’s hard thrusts. He’s fucking into you steadily, and you can feel your first orgasm growing in the pit of your stomach. You’re wrapped so tight around Soap, pulling him closer to the edge with each thrust he took. “Shit..” he moans out, eyes screwing shut. Alejandro is holding a death grip in your hair, holding your head steady as he fucks your throat. The back of your throat would be bruised from his assault, but the only thing you could seem to thing about was Soap, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re balancing on a tight rope, and right as you’re about to fall off, Soap moans out, sliding out of you and pumping his cock. Watching you be used like this has him about to cum already. He pumps his hand up his cock quickly, groaning out loud as he finishes up your stomach and chest. You’re whimpering around Alejandro, at the emptiness you feel. Desperate to feel it again. Gaz is quick to swap him places, sliding himself into your tight hole. You moan around Alejandro again, eyes rolling back as Gaz bottoms out immediately, hips snapping into yours. Soap leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. Alejandro’s hips halt and he holds you down on him, your skin turning red as your air was cut off. He finishes down your throat, cock throbbing hard and you swallow it down quickly. A gasp leaving your lips as he pulls out of your mouth.

You’re panting, taking in breaths like the air is limited. He leans down, looking down to see Gaz fucking you. You’ve still got a tight grip on Ghosts dick, pumping him hard and fast as you’re getting filled. You try not to move too quickly, keeping your hand at a steady pace, Ghost can’t help but admire how you pace yourself even under this amount of pressure. He smiles down at you. “Fuck she’s tight.” Gaz laughs. Tilting his head back. “Yeah she is.” Soap whimpers, smiling against your skin. His lips have attacked you, leaving love bites all over your chest, sucking at your nipple until you squirmed. Alejandro is still watching Gaz fuck into you, lips near your ear as he mumbles into your ear. How good of a girl you are, letting them fuck you like this. Use you like the toy you are.

“I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, and they smile at your sudden outburst. Soap leans down, rubbing his fingers fast over your sensitive nub until you’re crying out, orgasm hitting you like a massive tidal wave. A cry leaves your lips, drawing laughs out of each of them. “That’s it. Milk my fucking cock like that. Throbbing so hard around me.” Gaz gasps. Ghost swaps Alejandro, sliding his dick into your mouth. You were nervous for when he was going to fuck you. He was massive and he’d stretch you more than anyone else. Your lips were being stretched, you could feel them splitting and cracking around the sheer size of him. He fucked himself into your throat and kept you focused on him. Ghost plays with your other breast, Soap still assaulting your other with his lips. He pinches your nipple hard, pulling a cry from your lips, smiling as it gets muffled around him. “Such a good girl.”

Your hand is working up Soap and Alejandro’s shafts, moving at a steady pace. They’re both so sensitive but enjoying the overstimulation from you. You’re covered in cum and Lube, hands had been drenched at some point. Their cocks were slick with it as you pumped them fast, squeezing with the perfect amount of tightness. Dog tags and belts rattled throughout the room. Dangling in front of you. The light was bright, dizzy from being drunk, eyes watery and blurry from being fucked so good. Gaz slides out of you, hand working the same as Soap had, until he finishes on your chest with a groan. Letting himself go. He backs away and disappears from the table, but you don’t notice. Ghost still filling your mouth full, pushing you to your limits. Alejandro is next, hands gliding up your thighs. Your pussy is pink from getting fucked, throbbing and dripping and he smiles, grasping his cock in his hand. He lines himself up with your entrance, tip pushing your folds apart as he slides in. “Fuck.. she is tight.” He growls. Saving no time to fuck himself into you. He holds your thighs with his arms, squeezing them maybe a little too hard as he pounds into you. You moan around Ghost, hand still stroking Soap. “Fucking hell you are sweet.” Ghost groans. “So fucking.. perfect, such a filthy mess.” He gasps out.

Alejandro feels a little pathetic. Maybe it’s how sensitive you’ve made him, but his high is approaching quickly. He tries to slow his hips, your free hand clutches the table in a death grip, and your hips lurch into Alejandro. “Gonna cum again sweetheart?” He smirks. Ghost keeps your mouth full, but your body shakes violently as Alejandro fucks you. “Fuck.. your tightening around me has me so close.” Alejandro groans out, pulling out of you, and just like the others, finishing in your chest, groaning out, hand getting covered in his own cum. Ghost slides himself from your mouth, Soap switching him places. You hear his heavy footsteps moving to your feet and you pant heavily. Your raise yourself up onto your elbows, watching him pump his cock, moving to your entrance. “Shhh. Relax.” Soap mumbles into your ear. “You can take it sweetheart. Promise.” He kisses your cheek, kissing your jawline and down your neck, sucking and biting at the skin there. You feel the tip of ghosts cock start to stretch you and you gasp out, a cry leaving your lips. “Ah, I can’t- I can’t take it!” You cry. “Shhh.. Relax.” Soap tries to soothe you, running his hand over your hair. “You can. You can take it, and you will. Just relax.” Ghost pushes deeper and you lay flat on the table, clutching at the sides. Tears filling your eyes as he filled you. You were fucked out and overstimulated. There wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t covered in sweat or cum. Your hair was damp with sweat, face beat red.

Soap could see the small blood vessels broken in your cheeks, little red spider lines covering them. Lips were split and slightly bloodied from being stretched. You were covered in love bites from him, all over your neck and chest. It was a sight for sore eyes. When Ghost bottoms out, he tears a cry from your throat, tears streaming steadily down your cheeks. “Yeah that’s a good girl, take him.” Soap mumbles into your ear. “Watch sweetheart.” He helps you prop yourself back up. “Watch him fuck you.” Soap reaches down across your chest, fingers pressing against your clit.

You’re unsure where Gaz and Alejandro have gone, probably to clean up and call it a night. You still seen no sign of Captain Price.

Soap rubs fast circles against your clit, Ghost hammering his hips into yours. “Such a pretty girl sweetheart.” Soap whispers into your ear, reassuring you and egging you on to take it further.

“So fucking tight.” Ghost groans out. Voice deep as he does. Your eyes stare down to where Ghosts massive cock disappears into you and you’re silent, body shaking each time he thrusts his hips into you. You’re right on the edge again and he can feel it by the way your push clenches tight around him, milking his cock. His eyes stare into yours, and you watch him stare at you, you can tell there’s an evil smile on his lips by the way his eyes are. “Those are some dangerous looks you’re giving me, princess.” Ghost laughs. “Looks like you wanna devour me.” You don’t say anything, don’t even move. Your eyes fixated on him as he pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm. Soap draws his hand back, but you stop him. “Damn.” He laughs nervously. “She’s really into this. Look at her.” Ghost chuckles. Your eyes screw shut. “Goddamn!” He yelps, eyes widening. You reach another orgasm, tightening and throbbing around Ghost. A mewl leaves your lips and Ghosts eyes roll back. Once he’s ridden our your high, you’re squirming from Soap rubbing at your clit. “Gotta stop, she’s gonna make me cum already.”

“Captain, you ready?” Soap pulls his hand away from you, and you whimper at the loss, Soap smiling. He returns himself, seeing Price tip back the rest of his whiskey, putting out his cigar.

He starts to undress himself and Soap returns his hand, rubbing fast circles on your clit again. “Can feel you throbbing around me. Gonna cum again, already?” Ghost looks down at you. You nod your head, cheeks still stained with tears. Your eyes roll back, resting your head on Soaps chest since he was bent down near you. “That’s it. That’s a good girl.” Soap smiles. A gasp leaves your lips and you take in another breath.

Ghost slides out of you after he’s ridden out your second orgasm, looking forward to the way you’ll have a 3rd around him. “Lay on your stomach.” Ghost says, grasping your arm. You do it immediately.

Soap passes Ghost the bottle of lube they’d gotten for this. He squeezes the bottle, getting maybe a little too much on his hand as he circles his finger over your puckering hole. “Relax.” Ghost says. You take a deep breath, looking to the side as he slides his finger into you. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, you hadn’t felt it before. You moan out as he draws his finger back, adding a second. You gasp out, clutching the table. “Oh fuck!” You cry out. “She’s ready, Captain.”

You hear heavy footsteps coming your way. “Can you stand sweetheart?” Price asks. Pulling you off of the table. Your knees buckle underneath you, and he laughs. He lifts you up, walking along with you until he reaches the chair in the corner of the room, set there in front of the large tv screen. Ghost sits down and Price helps you sit down onto him, straddling his hips, and he helps guide you back into him, a whimper leaving your lips. “I can’t take it-“ you shiver. “You can sweetheart.” Price smiles, slicking his cock up with lube. He’s standing behind you, Ghost is fucking his hips up into yours. “Just a little more sweetheart.” He reassured you, running his fingertips across your back to soothe you.

He presses his tip against your hole, your ass stretching out around him. Your body tremors as he pushes into you, crying out. When you finally feel his skin against your back, he’d slid in all of the way, your lips are parted, eyes glossed over. You’re in a different world of pleasure.

Ghost filling your pussy, Price filling your ass. You lift up on Ghost, testing the waters. Price slides back out of you, adding more Lube to slide easier.

You can’t focus. Can’t think straight. You’re panting, your skin is beat red. Your face is flushed and you can’t stop blushing. You straddle Ghosts hips and lower yourself onto him once again, feeling him stretch you out. “Fuckin’ hell you’re a minx.” Price breathes out from behind you, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel his cock brushing against your back. Ghost adjusted himself on the chair and you felt Price lining up with your ass again, leaning into the chair from behind you. You felt him slide into you, stretching you even further. The fullness you felt had your eyes watering. It hurt just a little bit as he stretched you out but the burn and feeling of fullness numbed you. You were fucked out already, unsure of how you could push your body to such limitations. You wanted them to use you just as they were, wanted to be a toy for them to use as they please. As they both began to thrust into you, you couldn’t keep quiet. Strings of moans and pleas left your lips like a poem. Price lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You’ll be a good girl, yeah?” He bites his bottom lip. “Yes s-sir.” You can barely get it out. “That’s it.” He smirks. Ghost grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you up, his warm breath against your ear. “You’re our toy, ours to use and fuck as we please.” He growls. The way they stretched you, pushing against each part of you that you never knew could feel so good. “Just one more time sweetheart. Cum for us one more time.” Price mumbles.

“I can’t-“ you cry. “It’s too much!”

A deep chuckle comes from Price’s mouth. “You can sweetheart. Just one more.” He mumbles against your ear, moaning at the way you tightened around him. “Such a good girl, letting us fuck you like this. We’re going to give it to you sweetheart, gonna make you cum so hard.” Price mumbles into your ear. Ghost has his head tilted back, resting on the couch. Hands on your thighs. Price has a tight grip on your hips. Steady thrusts into you as ghosts thrusts up into you. The both of them overstimulating you. “So tight around me again. You’re close hm?” Ghost runs a hand through your hair. “Cum on my cock, you can do it.”

A sob tears it’s way out of your throat when you reach another orgasm, body shaking violently when you do. Your knees give out, but Ghost holds you up, still fucking himself into you. You’re crying, tears streaming from your eyes again. Body shaking with sobs, so overstimulated you felt like you were going to explode. “S’okay sweetheart. Do you want us to stop?” Price moves your hair from your faces. “No-“ you cry. Price smiles. “Such a good girl.” He mumbles, hips still hammering into yours. “We’re gonna fill you full sweetheart. Gonna fill this tight ass.” Price groans out. “Fuck- fuck I’m going to cum.” Ghost groans out. Hips thrusting up into you harder and faster, holding you up since you were too weak. When he finally cums, he moans out. You expected him to pull out but he doesn’t. He lowers you onto him, letting you rest your legs onto the couch as his cock throbs with each spurt of his cum that fills you until you’re dripping back out around his thick cock. The groan he lets out is sexy, your eyes rolling back as you hear it.

Price tilts his head back, cock twitching inside of you as he reaches his high too. Throbbing hard as he finishes, his cum doing the same. Spilling back out of you as he cums. He gives you a minute before he slides out of you, watching his cum spill back out of you. Ghost lifts you off of him. Price buttons his pants back up, lifting you up so that Ghost can clean himself up.

Price carries you back into your room. Your skin is flushed and abused. Pussy throbbing. You have bruises on your thighs and hips from their grips on you. Lips split and swollen. A sight for sore eyes. “Did such a good job for us dove.” Price mumbles.

“Such a good job.”

———————

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I’ll be helping dig my grave for this later XD

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghostsoap #call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #john price x reader #ghost x reader #alejandro x reader #gaz cod #gaz mw2

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disabled-dragoon · 9 months

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The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

#disability resources #disability #chronic illness #disability books #books #resources #book list #disability literature #literature #disability representation #disabled characters #information #informative #disability education #disability history #disability rights #please add to this #to be updated #long post

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yelenasdiary · 3 months

Note

I was wondering if you could do a Wanda X masc reader. Wanda is a cam girl and reader pays her to go out on a date due to having social anxiety. Please add some angst oh and a happy ending.

Just Be Yourself

Pairing: Camgirl! Wanda Maximoff x Masc! Reader

Summary: After a dare from your friends, you asked your favourite camgirl out for dinner, of course paying her for her time.

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Adult entertainment, Mentions of Social Anxiety, Wanda getting some unwanted attention, Mentions of physical violence | 2K

AC: I hope it’s okay that I tweaked this a little, thank you for sending it & I hope you enjoy! x

"What's the worst that could happen? she says no?" your friend said, flicking through her magazine. "That's the not point" you replied, "she'll probably think I'm just some creep like the rest of her followers. Hey, you don't know me but if I paid you $300 would you go out on a date with me? I would sound desperate" you added.

"You're overthinking it, she is literally asking people to give her money to perform stuff on camera" your friend pointed out, "besides, I dared you so you have to do it" she added. You sighed knowing she was right, whenever one of you dares each other to do something it becomes like an unspoken rule that you had to do the dare regardless. You grabbed your laptop and opened up the woman's website.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought of how to ask her out to dinner tonight, but she did say she was open to these type of things. People give her money to just go to engagement parties as a plus one from what you've heard. How do you ask somebody you've only had little interaction with on a date? To dinner? You went to close the lid of your laptop until your friend stopped you, "give it me!" She shook her head, taking the laptop from you.

"Hey,

I hope this isn't out of line or anything, but I would love to take you out to dinner tonight. I would pay you of course, just name a price. If you're interested and would like to have a fun night, I would be more than happy to pick you up around 7pm. If not, that's fine but I hope you'll think about it"

Your friend typed out the message and pressed send. "There, now it's done" she looked to you.

"What did you say?!" You panicked. Your friend turned the laptop around to face you, "oh god" you sighed, "this is stupid!" You added.

"I have been hearing you talk about how funny this woman is and also how you beautiful you think she is, despite her being a camgirl, I think you should really go for this" she explained. You were about to reply when your laptop made a ping like sound.

"Hi there!

This is really sweet of you and I would love to have dinner with you tonight, are you in or around the Westview era? If so, there is a diner you could pick me up from if you'd like. I would feel more comfortable in a public setting, I hope you understand.

As for pricing, I usually charge $800-$1,500 for events but for something like this, $500. Let me know what you think! I can't wait to hopefully meet you!

~Wanda xo"

The message stared back at you leaving you speechless. She actually replied, she said yes and even said she couldn't wait to meet you. Your social anxiety had suddenly made its appearance, your palms began to sweat and your mind was coming up with different ways to try and get out of going. As much as you wanted this, your anxiety had always been a block in the road.

"Hey, don't even think about it" your best friend's voice brought your mind back to the present. "I'm not doing anything" you replied, walking over to your wardrobe. "You are, you're thinking of ways to not go, you're letting your anxiety win" they added as if they were inside your head.

"I'm not, I am just trying to think of something to wear" you replied, brushing off their comment.

----

As asked by Wanda, you waited inside the diner for her to arrive. You wore a pair of your favorite jeans, a plain colored tee topped with your favorite jacket and shoes. Your favorite rings on each hand and one of your favorite necklaces to finish the outfit. The clock on the wall read 7:10pm and your mind began to wonder if maybe she had stood you up. Your heart began to sink, the one time you try to put yourself out there and you get stood up, until.

"Y/n?" A woman's voice softly caught your attention, making you turn around. You smiled softly; it was her.

"Yeah, that's me" you replied trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

"Hi, I'm Wanda" she smiled sweetly, "it's lovely to meet you" she added as she reached in for a friendly hug. You were glad she didn't go to shake your hand, nothing seemed to stop them from sweating. You took a moment to yourself just to remind yourself that you've got this! Your friend's voice floated in your head, "just be yourself, she'll love you!" Reminded you that you didn't have to be nervous besides the fact this woman is a complete stranger that you met on the internet, but she was just as nervous as you were, you just didn't know it.

"It's lovely to meet you too, I made reservations at a Mexican restaurant only a few blocks away, is that okay?" You replied.

"I love spicy food!" Wanda's eyes lit up. You smiled softly, thankful that she was excited for the place of choice. You held the door of the diner open for her as you both left, you held the door open of your car for her which surprisingly took her back a little. "I can't believe I was beginning to think that nobody liked to hold the doors open anymore" she commented with a chuckle.

"I guess you could call me old school" you replied before closing the door. Your nerves slowly began to calm down, you'd made her smile and chuckle all before even getting to the restaurant and you took that as a small win.

----

"I have to say, this is really refreshing. I mean, you're not like anybody else who pays me to pretend to be their partner or pays me for other things. You're sweet, so I have to ask…why did you want to take me out tonight?" Wanda asked, taking you completely by surprise while the two of you picked at the shared small bowl of nachos before your main meals arrived.

"Oh, umm, I mean, thank you" your words stumbled, "I don't want to sound like a creep or anything but I didn't first come across you from your website. You actually came up on my Instagram and I thought you were beautiful so I followed you and then I saw your website and some of the things you do on there but I just thought you'd really nice to get to know but I totally understand if that freaks you out" you added, your palms under the table begin to sweat once more.

Wanda smiled softly at your reply, "that's really cute actually! I am so used to people wanting 1 thing, which I guess I set myself up for that but it's really nice to not feel that tonight" she spoke.

You couldn't help but smile in reply just as the waiter placed your main meals in front of the two of you. "So, tell me a little about yourself" Wanda looked up at you before picking up her fork.

By the time you had ordered dessert for the two of you, plenty of laughs and jokes were being shared. The night was going wonderful, better than you could've ever imagined and your anxiety eventually became more tolerable.

"Hey there, sorry to intrude on whatever this is but are you scarletwitch838?" a young man asked, not caring for the fact he was in fact intruding. Wanda looked up at him and sighed quietly to herself, "I'm sorry, you must have me mixed up with somebody else" she replied.

"For real? Damn, you look just like her, look!" he replied, pulling out his phone and showing her a video she'd uploaded to her site. "H-how did you save that?! You're not supposed to keep the content!" Wanda snapped in a panicked. "I knew it! You are her! Yo, I'm a huge fan! The way you can move your body, man I've never jacked off so hard before"

"Okay, that's enough. You're being rude and I think you should go" you stood up, looking him in the eyes.

"What the fuck are you going to do about it? You know she's a whore for the camera, right?" he laughed causing Wanda to excuse herself. You wanted to call out for her but you didn't want the man to know her real name. The man laughed once more, "I guess the bitch can't handle the truth, I hope you have a great time with her, sure as hell everybody else has" he added with a smug look.

Your body reacted faster than you could think, punching the guy in the face harder than you've ever hit anything before. He fell to the ground, "You crazy bitch! What the fuck!" he groaned. Customers around you all froze, the manger shook their head at you from afar and you knew you were going to be asked to leave. You pulled out your wallet and placed a $100 bill on the table before making your way to the bathroom to find Wanda.

"Wanda, are you okay?" You asked from outside the bathroom. She opened the door and sighed, "I'm so, so sorry about that. I really try to avoid things li-"

"Hey, don't stress. He was out of line, you have every right to be mad. Plus, I think he got the message" you interrupted her.

"Excuse me, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave" an unknown voice spoke from behind you, you turned to see the manager standing there with an unimpressed look. "Don't worry, we were just leaving and honestly, if anybody should be leaving it should be him. He harassed this woman, is that what you want your restaurant to stand for?" you replied. Wanda looked between you and the manager.

"I'm really sorry, I wasn't aware that he was causing an issue. We will ask him to leave, and your night is on the house. Again, we are sorry" they replied, handing you back the $100 bill you placed on the table before. You gave them a light nod before looking back at Wanda, "I'll give you a ride home"

----

Wanda gave you directions to her neighborhood, you pulled over out the front of a nearby park out of respect for her but she insisted it would be okay for you to see where she lived. "Nobody has ever stood up for me like that" she said as you pulled up out the front of her house.

"You don't deserve to be treated like that by anybody" you replied looking over at her.

"I had a really great time tonight, I really hope this hasn't ruined it for you"

"Ruined it? This was the best date I've ever been on. Even with that crap, I had a really fun time with you. You're funny, you're sweet and really, really beautiful. I'm not usually this straight forward like this but I just want you to know that I don't see you like how he did" you replied with a soft smile, "you're person just like everybody else and so what, you make some money online, we all need to make money to live. So who is he to judge how you make your money" you added.

Wanda smiled before leaning over and placing a kiss on your cheek, "I'd love to see you again, if you're up for it" she said as your cheeks went red. "I'd love that" you replied with a flustered look.

"Good, keep that money, I don't want you pay for my time. You deserve it out the money" she replied, "I'm going to put my number in your phone, text me when you get home, okay?" she added. You nodded before you punched in your passcode and handed her your phone. Your stomach filled with butterflies, your night started off with nerves and anxiety was now ending with flustered cheeks and butterflies. It was safe to say you were excited to plan the next date.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #Elizabeth Olsen #camgirl! wanda

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sorcerous-caress · 6 days

Text

I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

#♡otherfandoms #♡pathologic 2 #♡pathologic #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #pathologic 2 #pathologic classic hd #the haruspex #pathologic

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wingedjellyfishflight · 5 months

Text

A Forgotten Birthday

"How old is y/n then?" The new recruit is always trying to flirt with Soap by asking him gossip and facts about the team.

"Twenty-six." He answers her so easily. It feels like a stab to your heart all over again.

"Twenty-seven." You correct, voice conspicuously devoid of emotion.

"No, your birthday isn't until May, and it's..." His face pales. He whips around to look at you. "We missed it. How did we miss it?" You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

"Some things just aren't important." Your food tastes like sawdust. You give up trying to eat and toss it in the trash on the way out. Maybe hitting the gym will help. No, you know he's going to tell everyone, and you don't want to deal with their pity-filled stares and questions about making it up to you now that they've finally remembered.

Running the trail system near the base is a favorite of yours normally. Today, it isn't relaxing, but anger-inducing. You were on a mission in a forest just like this across the world for your birthday. It was almost two weeks after the day that you got back, and you eagerly waited for the surprise party that Soap, Gaz, and Price always set up for each person's birthday, but... nothing. After three weeks, you gave up all hope for one and steeled yourself to give nothing away. Can't let them see you hurt over a stupid birthday. Can't make the team lose focus or lose your own. You're an adult, after all.

Zoned out, you don't realize how far you have run until it's nearly too dark to see the path. Sitting on a stump, you give in and have a cry about the whole thing. Self-pity taking you over for just a few minutes. Wiping your eyes, you startle when a hand touches your back. You leap up and move to a defensive crouch only to see Ghost's balaclava looming out of the darkness at you.

"Luv, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just, I don't know. Needed a cry, I guess. Didn't think anyone would see me."

"You certainly didn't see anyone. I've been running behind you for nearly five minutes. I could have been anyone. You need to be more aware of things." Your hurt and confusion turns to anger at the lecture he is spouting off.

"Ya, I guess I do need to be more aware. Clearly, I am the problem." You stomp away from him, starting back to base, muttering to yourself about transfers to other teams who might care more. Ghost wraps his hand around your arm and pulls you to a stop.

"What, I make one comment, and you're just going to quit on us? What is actually going on, pet? Someone piss you off or something? Do I need to knock teeth out?"

"I... everyone forgot," you mumble. Ghost glances around to ensure you're alone and tugs you against his chest, rubbing your back. "I was in the shit and when I got back, nobody remembered my birthday." He freezes, hands cradling you.

"They forgot? How could they forget? Your birthday is always at the beginning of the mission season. I thought you guys had it when I was down range. I was gutted to have missed it. Sent you flowers as a sorry." His grip tightens to an almost painful level, and you grip back, remembering the beautiful bouquet that had been left for you without a note. "We will just have to make Soap and Captain pay for forgetting then." You glance up and see his eyes glimmering at you in the moonlight.

"We should probably find our way home first."

"Home, that sounds good." His phone suddenly goes off, making you jump. "Group text. 'SOS emergency meeting. Do not tell y/n.' They ain't even tryin' to be subtle at this point." He guides the two of you down the path, walking quick and assured. Within minutes, he is getting an avalanche of phone calls and texts to the point that he is tempted to throw it into the woods around you, but you turn it off and slip it into his pocket for him.

"Last time you threw one and broke it, Captain said he would glue the new one to your hand, and I'm pretty sure he was serious." Ghost ruffles your hair.

"That was a private meeting, Luv. How did you hear him say that?"

You scoff. "You'd be lucky if the entire fuckin' base didn't hear him tell you that with how loud he was shouting." He just chuckles and guides you both home. He drops you off at the women's barracks and storms into the team meeting, slamming the door into the wall.

"Finally you show up! We forgot y/n's birthday and we are planning a party to make up for it."

"No. You are not."

"What?! We can't just ignore it. We forgot! It's been months!"

"You're not going to force her to accept a pity party to make you feel better about what you did."

"Ghost, I know you hate parties, but she still deserves to know we care."

"So, show her. Before she makes good on transferring out. But no party. I will handle her party from now on since you fucks can't be trusted to remember." He walks out without another word, the room behind him in chaos.

"Why is he acting like he didn't forget, too?" Gaz asks incredulously.

"Because the bawbag didn't. He sent the mystery flowers that made her cry. It was right after he got back from down range. Can't believe I didn't catch it earlier."

Price stubs out his cigar. "So, no party. And she is thinking about leaving. We really cocked this one up, boys." He stands and walks to the door, pausing on the threshold. "No flowers, no gifts. Make it up to her. And Soap," he turns to look the Scottish man in the eye, "sleep with one eye open. Ghost is absolutely going to make us pay for making her cry." He walks away, no pep in his step, now.

"Cry? How does he know she cried?" Gaz seems baffled by the Captain's surety.

"Course she cried. Everyone does when they are forgotten or abandoned."

"Ghost doesn't, though. We never celebrate his birthday."

"We being the key there, mate. Remember last month when she shoved a new set of gloves and a mask at him? Told him the ones he was wearing were manky as fuck. That was his birthday gift." He runs a hand through his hair. "Anyway, I'm off. Need t'think about how I'm gonna beg forgiveness from both of 'em."

#ghost cod #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

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emeraldborealis · 27 days

Text

Over And Over Again

Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, flashbacks, yelling, fighting, brief mention of suicidal ideation, manipulation, gaslighting, blood, parental trauma, coerced drinking.

A/N: Hopefully this part will explain some questions about their past relationship.

Words: 5,147

You are currently reading Chapter 4

The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Five

Shutting the door behind John didn't feel real. Hearing his car pull out of the driveway again didn't feel real.

Walking into your bedroom and into your bathroom to shower didn't feel real. The water didn't feel real.

Everything felt so distant. Like it wasn't really happening. There was a numbness that had washed over you, making nothing feel like anything.

Sitting on your floor, still naked and wrapped in your towel you pulled out a box from under your bed, opening it you sifted through its contents, past letters and notes from friends and family, your birth certificate, social security card. All of it was here, but you were looking for something in particular.

Pulling out your wedding ring you held it in your hand, feeling the cool metal against the palm of your hand. It was so cold it felt foreign to hold. It was once always warm, always against your skin. A feeling you knew better than almost any other. One you were once proud to have.

All at once the memories came flooding back in. All at once something felt too real.

"Can you do more? Try harder? We all have to help around the house. You're an adult now. I need you to do more. And you need to go to work more, you have rent you need to pay, and insurance." Your mother's lecturing voice clawed into your eardrums.

"I'm trying my best, I do help. I do more than you think I do. I'm working as much as I can." You felt like it was killing you, working so hard and receiving so little. It had always been this way. You were seen as nothing but lazy.

"I never see you do anything. And you could be going into work more, you should be getting forty hours. You're an adult." Your mother continued, shooting down your efforts.

"You don't see everything. I'm doing all the work they have for me. Why does it matter? I pay you, I put money away in savings. I'm doing alright. I've been working since I was fifteen." No matter how often you tried to explain that you were making it, she wouldn't listen.

"Well, you've needed to pay me since you were fifteen. So you needed a job. You want to be someone someday don't you? This is life, this is what we do. We work. This is how you become someone. So unless you marry someone, this is your life, living here until you can move out." You didn't have the energy to argue, she was right. She always was.

Turning the ring over in your hand you felt tears welling back into your eyes as another memory came to mind. You'd cried a lot tonight. Apparently you weren't done yet.

Sitting utterly alone in your bedroom, you were about to be plagued by a parade of memories, forced to watch each one pass you one by one like fancily decorated floats. You did this too often, let your past walk all over you, throw things at you until you had too much to hold.

"I'm going for a walk." You informed your parents, stepping out the front door without protest.

Your feet took you to a familiar path, one you walked often. One you probably shouldn't walk on, you knew it was stupid and dangerous, especially the bridge.

But the walk made you feel better. Especially when you'd walk with music blasting in your ears. Leaving the possibilities of something bad happening open. You knew that thought process was wrong. Which is why you didn't have your music today.

"You shouldn't walk on the tracks, you know. It's dangerous." A voice behind you startled you, making you trip and stumble on the railroad ties, you were able to recover without falling thankfully. You hadn't heard anyone around you. You needed to be better about zoning out.

"Yeah? I had no idea." Sarcasm dripped from your voice, turning around to face whoever it was that was talking to you. It was a man, a few years older than you. A smooth babyface, soft eyes, he was built an abnormal amount for a typical person his age. "Who are you anyways? Why do you care?"

"My name's John. I care because there's so few people in the world who look as nice as you, so it'd be a shame for you to be hit by a train." His response made you roll your eyes.

"Oh, I get it. You're a creepy bum. Stop following me." You turned to keep walking, trying to leave him behind, but he followed you, jogging to catch up and walk beside you.

"You're delightful aren't you? And I'm not a bum." He defended himself, not letting you continue alone. Maybe he could tell you were upset. Maybe he understood.

"Then what are you, John?" You asked a bit accusatorially, stopping to face him.

"I'm in the S.A.S." Suddenly you heard a door opening, a way out. They moved around a lot, didn't they? Looking down you inspected his left hand, no ring.

"You seem a little young for being in the S.A.S." You were skeptical, untrusting. You needed to know he wasn't lying to you. He was no use to you if he really was just a weirdly strong creep.

"I joined the infantry at sixteen." He explained, a small smile coming to his face as he watched you take him in.

"I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming it's an explanation." John was going to become someone, John was going places. You wanted to catch a ride, you wanted out.

Your struggles were a completely different battle when you were young, time doesn't heal everything. But it can take you away from those things, make them hurt less. John made them hurt less.

For a time.

"Who's this? This your boyfriend? He's so sweet looking." Your mother smiled, moving in to hug John, embracing him like she knew him, despite this being the first time she met him. "I'm a hugger."

John seemed a bit awkward and unsure of your mother, he'd heard you rant about her a few times, just small things. But from his own experience he knew what she was probably like. "You have a good kid, good head on their shoulders."

"Don't I? I raised them well." You could feel a bubble of anger rise in you, she didn't raise you. You raised yourself.

You'd carried so much anger and resentment for your mother when you were younger. A lot of it was well earned. But the ways you'd sometimes treat her in return still ate at you. She was trying to overcome how she was raised. Just as you were now.

It just wasn't fair that you had to become a stepping stool for her to find peace for herself. It wasn't fair that she got to believe she was the reason you turned out okay when she was one of the biggest things you had to overcome.

"So, do you like John?" Your mother asked you curiously, sitting on the end of your bed, interrupting you from reading your book.

"I don't know yet. I think I do." You shrugged, putting your book down. Talking about this stuff with your mother made you feel sick.

"You like him, I can tell. You know you could have told me you were dating someone." She nudged your leg, trying to play with you, but you could hear a hint of her lecturing tone slipping through.

"It slipped my mind I guess. Sorry." You apologized. You found it easier to apologize immediately rather than let things keep going, keep escalating. Even when you apologized sometimes she still preferred to keep digging in deeper.

"You know you can talk to me about anything. Anytime." She was trying to be sincere, she really was. It just felt wrong to you. It felt wrong to talk to your mom. It always ended in a lecture of some kind.

"Yeah, mom. I know." You reassured her, really just wanting to get back to reading your book.

Looking up to your ceiling you tried to stop your tears, wiping at them furiously. You were shaking again, but that may have been because you were still just in a towel. You couldn't stop yourself from crying, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout as you ugly cried.

"So, when are you and John going to get married?" Your mother questioned as you walked through the front door after work.

"Mom, it's been six months. Two of which he was gone." You took a deep breath, putting your bag down and taking off your work shoes. "Why are you so concerned about me getting hitched?"

"I was married at nineteen. You could be too. Especially since John is a good man. I think you should marry him." Your mom smiled at you, explaining her reasoning. She wanted you to sit down and talk to her about it. But you brushed her off.

"I don't know yet." You grabbed your bag and started walking off.

"I was talking to you!" Your mom called after you.

Why did you ever let your family get the idea of marriage in your head? Why was that the thing that was supposed to fix you? Maybe if you had decided for yourself that you wanted to be married you could have gotten to that point with John on your own.

You could have actually been ready to get married. You could have learned how the world was supposed to work. How relationships were supposed to work.

"John, I want out of this stupid town. I want out of my parents house." You sat in a tree with him, watching the sunset, there were stars coming out now. Things felt right in these moments with John.

"We could get married, we could move somewhere. I've been thinking I want to be closer to base. We could get married and go together. There's a lot of pros to marrying me." John suggested the idea to you, taking your left hand in his, playing with your ring finger.

"There are..." You held his hand tighter. "You're the first person I've felt this way towards. Maybe that's a sign."

You wailed, curling up on your cold hard floor. You felt pathetic, but you knew you needed to let yourself feel all of this.

To finally fully process and let go of everything that brought you and John together in the first place. Everything he was to you. Everything he did for you. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." John opened the door to your new apartment for you, holding your hand softly, your wedding band rubbing against his rough skin. "Look around, I'll get our bags from the car."

You walked around your new home, both your families had moved your stuff in while you were on your honeymoon. This was your first time seeing the place, it was nice. It was far away from your family. It was perfect.

"I know it's not much. One day I'll get us an actual house, I promise." John came inside, setting your bags down. You smiled at him, jumping on him in a bear hug.

"No, it's perfect." You reassured him, kissing his face repeatedly. You were the happiest you'd been in a long time. You were happy to be married to John. To be able to call him your husband. To be out of your old home. Things were looking up.

Remembering the good years tore you apart. The few good years when you were just happy to be with John. When things were working out, when the compromise was listening to him and you were happy to do so.

They were all supposed to be good years. It was all supposed to be good. You were supposed to live out the rest of your life happily with John. But all good seasons have to come to an end.

The memory of the first time you broke down and called your mom still stung. When you had a moment of weakness and just needed your mom. You needed your mom like how you saw others need your mom all of growing up. How could she turn you away when she didn't turn them away?

"Mom, I'm not really happy. We fight a lot." You spoke into the landline, wiping at your tears. Feeling guilty for needing to talk to her. Feeling guilty you needed to talk to someone about your marriage.

"You love him don't you?" Your mom asked curiously, sounding mildly concerned.

"Yes." Your voice trembled as you spoke. You just needed your mom. You needed to talk to your mom.

"Then there you go, all marriages have troubles. But since you love him I'm sure you can work it out. Me and your dad fight but we love each other so we make it work. Anyways, I have to go. I'll talk to you later. Okay?" She brushed off your need to talk to her. Your desperation to just be consoled by her.

"Okay. Love you." You hiccupped. Knowing now you shouldn't have bothered. She only cared to listen to your problems if they helped prove her point. This did nothing for her, listening to you now was like listening to a gnat. Inconsequential to her.

"Love you." She hung up on you, leaving the receiver beeping in your ear. Leaving you in shambles alone. Leaving you once again believing you were the problem.

You probably were. You just needed to try harder, work harder to fix things. You loved him. So that was enough for things to work out.

Your screams didn't even make a sound, they were just a rushing of air and a tightness in your throat as you sat up from the floor, sitting with your back against your bed, clutching your ring against your chest.

"I don't want another, I'm okay." You refused another drink, a polite smile on your face.

"Oh come on, you've only had one. I didn't think your wife was a killjoy, John, with the way you talk so highly of them. I thought we could all have some fun." One of John's friends complained, trying to push another drink over to you.

"Come on love, it's okay. You can handle another drink, right? Nothing bad will happen to you as long as I'm here. Just drink a little more, if you can't finish it I will." John tried to reassure you, wrapping his arm around you and squeezing your shoulder, bringing you in closer to him. Away from his buddy.

"Okay." You caved, accepting another glass of alcohol. "But I'm not drinking all of it."

John's friend kept drinking, and then he kept drinking. He was totally pissed, babbling on and on about things you couldn't even understand. He was making you uncomfortable, but John reassured you he was harmless.

"Your wife sure is something John. I see why you married them." John's friend drunkenly giggled, reaching his hand out towards you, John pushed away his hand. Bringing you closer to himself. John's eyes were dark and dangerous, something you'd never really seen with him.

"I think you've had enough to drink. Let's get you home." John stood up from the booth, helping his friend up, putting his friend's arm around his shoulder to help him walk straight. "Come on, love. We'll take him home then we can go home too."

"Oh, okay." You followed close to John, you were buzzed, but you were alright.

"You're such a good man John, being willing to share such a nice thing." John's friend stumbled away from John, wrapping his arm around you. His breath reeked of the alcohol he was drinking, his arm around you was heavy. Felt wrong.

"What?" Your sudden panic of betrayal was short lived. One moment John's buddy was all over you, then the next John was on him, several feet away from you on the ground.

One hit, then two. John just kept hitting him. Over and over again. His knuckles were bloody, each time he pulled back his arm to hit him again you saw them, it wasn't his own blood. "Don't you ever touch them. Don't you ever touch my wife."

"John. John, that's enough. John, he's had enough." You grabbed John's shoulder, trying to calm him down. It was as if he hadn't even heard you, he just kept hitting his friend. "John, John. John! JOHN! Stop!"

The sound of your screaming made him stop, stumbling up off of his now unconscious friend. You were surprised the damage wasn't worse, he was holding his punches and he was still a bloody mess.

"It's alright, I've got you." He wrapped his arms around you, soothing you with his bloody hands, whispering sweetly into your ear, his nose pressed to your temple. The blood on his hands ruining your shirt.

Biting your lip you tried to stop it's quivering. You didn't want to remember that. You didn't want to have to think about that day anymore. It was one of the biggest turning points in your marriage. It was the day things started to get really bad.

"I'm trying to fix things okay?" John yelled at you, running his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if what I did was shocking to you. I was just trying to get him away from you. I was angry, unbelievably angry."

"John, you're always angry." You cried, trembling as you stood before him. Sobbing like the mess you were.

"Well, who's fault is that?" His tone was biting, tearing into you. "Stop looking at me like that, stop looking at me with that scared face! I have never laid a hand on you. I would never lay a hand on you. So stop acting like a victim."

You could hardly breathe, climbing from the floor you sat on the edge of your bed, adjusting your towel that had started to slip away from your body. Bringing it around you tighter.

"Mom, things have gotten worse between us. We're both tense since the incident." You called your mom, trying to cry to her again.

"That's normal. Fights are scary to see, but he was protecting you. Defending your honor. You're not worried he'd hit you right?" You could hear her washing the dishes on the other side of the line. Your concerns weren't even worth her full attention. You weren't worth her attention.

"I don't know." You ran your hand through your hair, trying to soothe yourself.

"You love him right?" She seemed to be listening a little better now, if only to hear the answer to her question.

"Yes." You sniffled, wiping the snot from your nose on the sleeve of your sweater.

"Then things will work out. This will pass. Just try to work harder on your relationship." Work harder. Work harder. All you needed to do was work harder. Push farther. Be better. Do better.

Standing from your bed you weighed your ring in your hand, screaming, you threw it as hard as you could. It hit your wall, falling down behind your dresser, as you heard it hit the floor you sunk down to your knees sobbing.

"You know how I said I'd get us a house someday? Well, since I'm being moved to another base we need somewhere closer to live. And I found the perfect place, it's everything you've ever told me you wanted. And, I think a change of scenery could be good for us." John announced to you, a smile on his face.

"It's an actual house? Like, our actual house? We're not renting anymore?" You asked, excitement coursing through you. Jumping up you jumped on him, making him chuckle as he caught you.

"Yes, and it's perfect for us. Has lots of character, just needs a little work." He spun you around. This could be a fresh start, somewhere away from everything you knew, a place to make new memories and experiences.

Your fingers traced over a scratch in the hardwood, you couldn't remember how it got there, maybe it was there before you moved in. Something about it felt familiar.

This home was supposed to fix things, as you fixed it, it was supposed to in turn fix you, your relationship. But relationships can't be fixed with recaulking and repainting. You learned that from trying.

"By work I didn't think you meant demolition and rebuilding." You joked, stepping out of the car, seeing the house for the first time.

"It's what I could do, love. And, it's not that bad. Just needs some new paint. We can do it together." John playfully nudged you, pushing you softly.

"Together." You agreed, laying your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist. The moving truck would be there soon with your things, but right now you could just take in the sight of your new home with your husband.

You covered your face in your hands, you wanted to hide. Hide from remembering. The snot running from your nose was beginning to suffocate you, you couldn't breathe through your nose anymore.

You were still trying to cry out, still trying to wail and scream. But you had no voice left, you'd barely get a squeak out. There was just too much hurt.

"Mom, things are actually getting better. I think this project together is what we needed. We've gotten most of the outside done, but the inside is still unpainted, it has some old wallpaper, I think John's plan is to peel it. It's nice wallpaper but it's peeling already in a few places." You tried to catch your mom up, actually happy to share good news with her.

"That's great. I have to go, but keep up the hard work." She was never going to listen to you. Not when she had other things to do. Not when you were not the most important thing.

"Oh, okay. Bye." You let her hang up, off to do who knows what.

You often mourned the relationship you could have had with your mother, if you were only more like her. Thought, talked, acted, more like her.

If you would have just let her keep controlling and dictating your life. If you'd never left her maybe she would have loved you as a mother should.

If you reminded her less of your father. Maybe she could have liked you more.

Maybe if it wasn't for her own father, she could have been a better mother.

"Good work, another wall done." You admired your hard work on the outside of the house, putting your hand on John's shoulder mischievously.

"You just got paint on me didn't you?" He looked at your hand on his shoulder before he looked at your face. A knowing look on his face.

"Yep." You laughed, lifting your hand to show him your palm covered in paint, and the spot on his shirt that now had your handprint.

"You little-" You booked it, running away and laughing.

"It's just paint! No need for retaliation!" You watched as John dipped his hands into the paint, chasing after you, you screamed as you ran away. "Stay away from me!"

"Why? It's just paint." He continued after you, much too quick for comfort. "Come on, I just want to embrace my loving wife, you don't want your husband to embrace you?"

"No!" You laughed, slowing down. You did not have his endurance, you felt like your limbs were going to fall off before playing this prank. Now you were sure you'd die with the stitch that was in your side.

"You already have paint on you, what's a little more?" John caught you, wrapping his arms around you, he put his hands on your abdomen, getting paint on your shirt, marking you with his handprints.

You continued to laugh. "Okay, okay. Now we're even." You turned around in his grasp to face him, kissing him tenderly.

"Not yet." He cupped your face, leaving a handprint on your cheek. "Now we're even."

You cupped your cheek, feeling where he'd left the handprint. It was long gone. But a piece of you could still feel it. There was so much good mixed in with the bad.

Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you put in a good fight and still lose. Sometimes holding on too tight is the worst thing you can do. Sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself and someone else is let go.

Acceptance is a small, quiet room. Filled with so much thought and pain you'd think it was filled with angry bees.

"Now that we've finished the outside, are we going to paint the inside together too?" You asked curiously, sitting down with John on your couch, draping your legs over him. He seemed a bit tense, but you were sure you could help him relax. Unwind.

"Actually, I got a call. I have to go, I'm wanted at base. But, you start and I'll help you finish. Pick whatever colors you want." He kissed your forehead, patting your thighs before moving your legs off of him so he could go get his stuff ready to leave.

"Oh. Okay." You watched him leave you. Knowing you'd end up peeling all the wallpaper by yourself. Painting the entire inside of the house yourself.

Even when you didn't appreciate each other anymore he still felt like your other half. Sometimes he still feels like your other half. The half that's missing. The half you'd sent away so many times. The half you'd watched walk out on you. The half that you weren't sure would come back to make you whole.

Things began to get worse again, you were either fighting or ignoring the other. You'd have moments where things were good. But you both were distant. You didn't even notice you were crumbling until you fell apart.

So many years together, so much time and energy spent trying to make things work.

You just couldn't try anymore.

"John." You didn't know what to say, how to speak. All words stuck in your throat.

"Yeah?" He looked up at you from where he sat at the table, a questioning look. You handed him some papers. "What's this?" He took the papers from you, looking them over. Divorce papers. "Oh, I see."

Your mind made you mostly forget what happened that night, but you know you fought, you know he yelled at you, said a lot of hurtful things. You could still remember that pain. But you couldn't remember what exactly it was that hurt so bad.

His yelling went on for so long, so many hours. Then there was the slamming of the door, and he was gone. Truthfully you were still trying to process leaving him, sending him away.

The divorce went fast, he gave you the house, and most other things. All he took was all he needed. Everything else was left to you.

"Mom, I'm divorcing John." You sobbed at your own realization, having now said it out loud for the first time. This wasn't right. But this was what needed to be done. Your marriage was a sinking ship and you refused to let either of you drown anymore.

"Oh. I knew he was no good, I knew he was a bad man. I tried to tell you to be careful marrying young. Told you that you could stay home as long as you needed, there was no rush. This is what happens when you rush relationships and just jump into marriage." Your mothers unempathetic words struck you. The manipulation, the lies. The gaslighting.

"Mom, you-" You tried to argue, tried to call her out.

"So, are you going to move closer to home? You should." Your mother continued, ignoring you completely.

"No, John left me the house. Said I put in more work on it, so I could have it." You were honestly shocked how much John just gave to you freely in the divorce. How defeated he seemed. He just wanted to get it over with quick and easy. He didn't want to take anything more away from you.

"You really want to stay there in that house?" Your mothers tone was skeptical, unbelieving.

"I do, Mom. I have to go. We can talk later." You refused to let her drag you back home, you were never going to live with her again.

"Oh, okay. Love you." You should have known better, your mom was always like this. Always placing the blame onto you. You didn't know when it was going to stop surprising you.

The aching in your chest wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, you knew it well. At one point you were sure you'd die from it. But you hadn't, you'd just kept living.

Day by day you'd just kept living. You were still living. You'd come so far, too far to be letting these things still hurt you the way they did.

You stood at the window, watching John put his last box into the moving truck, pulling the door down and securing it.

It was the truck that was going to take him away. It hurt, watching him. This was really it, you were watching him actually leaving your life. He was going to be gone for good now.

It felt cruel, being left here without him. Even if you were the one who decided he needed to leave. A life without John in it just didn't sound right. Though you supposed it was time to figure out how to live a life alone.

"No." You'd felt relief then, watching him leave. But you didn't now. You'd changed. He'd changed. You didn't want to miss out on meeting the new him. You didn't want to let your past self stop you from moving on from that hurt.

You weren't going to lose something you couldn't replace.

He really had changed. He didn't fight with you, even when you were screaming in his face. He expressed the desire not to control anymore, he was truthful even when it was damaging to him. He wasn't just trying to change like he once said. He had changed.

Desperately you moved to your dresser, pushing and shoving at it, it wouldn't budge. It was far too heavy.

Tearing your clothes from the drawers you threw them on the floor, ruining how neatly folded they were. Once it was empty you pushed again, getting it away from the wall, using your legs you moved it enough to get behind it. Grabbing your wedding ring you held it in your hands.

You didn't want to let go of someone who put in the effort to change. Someone who's trying to change for you. If you don't allow him grace, if you don't allow him to change, all it does is prove that you too, are incapable of changing.

You had too much love for him, where was that love supposed to go? Even if it was a complicated love, it was still love. Love worth trying again for. Love worth trying again for with equal effort on both sides.

After so many years your love still remained, you were still stuck with all that love. So why not try? Why not let the love try to find a home in someone one more time?

#x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cod fandom #cod #angst #cod fanfic #john price #john price cod #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader

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ceruleanchillin · 7 months

Text

141 x American Reader

141 x American Fem!Reader

Note -

I was trying to do some quick scenarios and got caught up. I still have yet to figure out how to get in and get out with my writing.

I had to do some research to see if they had a PX (The Exchange) in the UK, and they do! They even have a Charley’s.

I need so much more practice until I'm more confident in these characters (and their accents...)😩

Simon:

Boston wasn’t terrible in Simon’s eyes, but he would still rather be home. He wasn’t really on leave, he had business on behalf of the task force with some American contacts. However, it was a lot of downtime and waiting, and it was twisting his head around to be working and resting so frequently together. He liked most things separate, easier that way.

He’d certainly been in worse places to wait in. Worse safe houses, more unfamiliar environments where his anti-social quirks made trouble, no chance at a decent pub like the one he’d taken to frequenting a few blocks from the safe house.

He was approaching the very same pub at the moment. Mind racing to mentally prepare for his next briefing with Price and Laswell. He didn’t have much, the contacts seemed to be dragging their feet, and Simon was in a daily battle not to just go gather the intel himself and be done with it.

He went to pull the door, but through the glass, saw you behind the counter. That was strange, you worked on weekends. He knew, because once he connected his increased heartbeat and uncomfortably hot cheeks to you, he started avoiding the place.

It may have been the most authentic pub he’d encountered in America so far, but you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and only one of these things made him sweat like he was back in basic.

He started to back away, but you’d seen him through the age-warped glass and were waving him in.

“You stupid pint-addict bastard.” he muttered, unnecessarily triple checking to make sure his mask was in place.

He’d honored his promise to Price, and kept to a half mask instead of his usual balaclava. At first he was tense, short when spoken to, and constantly running a hand through his hair to momentarily shield his face. The half mask helped, but not much. It just reminded him he wasn’t where he felt he should be. He wasn’t the one to play the diplomat

However, on your first meeting, you’d complimented the contrast between his eyelashes and his dark eyes. Between that, and you pouring his Guinness at an angle, the right way, he’d had to clear his throat twice before he felt it was safe to respond. He couldn’t remember what he said, his ears had rung like a flashbang went off too close.

It must have been smooth, because you ducked your head and quickly turned so he couldn’t see you grin. Too slow, for all the vistas and colorful fabrics he’d seen in his travels, your smile had taken the prize.

“Hey! Saved your seat!” you called out over the din, pointing to the rounded corner of the bar where there was only stool and a column to block him from most patrons. “Even though I shouldn’t have. You’ve been avoiding me, and don’t deny it. My co-workers have no filter.”

He winced, you’d caught him red handed. “Not avoiding you. Just working.”

“At avoiding me.” you stuck your tongue out at him.

It was surprisingly packed for a weekday, and as he got closer to the bar, he noticed there was some sort of event going on. Drink specials, a pool tournament, and calls to tourists. He cursed, and considered how fast he could down his drink and fake a work call.

“Sit.” you pinned him with a look. “I need another sane adult around me, now.”

“Sane?” he snorted. “You’ve got the wrong bloke in mind.”

“Yeah? You wanna go up against the kid who’s pledging and has been wearing that chicken suit for two weeks, or the “actress” who keeps switching characters with every drink?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing out your subjects without a care about looking rude.

“I wanna get on the first thing flying or floating out of here.”

“Take me with you, or I’ll steal your passport.” you slid the Guinness towards him, before leaning on your elbows, and closing some of the distance between you.

Simon had been tortured, beaten, and had given his fair share of the same back. He’d stared hardened terrorists in the eyes and made them back down every time. It was pretty silly of him, and he certainly felt it, to falter under your gaze, and yet he did.

His fingers danced around the bottom of the glass, letting the drink settle, before he lowered his mask and took a big sip. “You don’t have to bribe me love, just say the word and we’re gone.”

He wasn’t often embarrassed. Sometimes, Johnny made him cringe, but he was usually too removed from a situation, and the people in it, to allow for such an emotion. He’d long stopped caring about the looks he, as a masked behemoth, received and whatever thoughts were behind the eyes on him.

Of course, he couldn’t do that with you. He didn’t want to, but he literally couldn’t anyways. So he had to sit there, heat rising to his cheeks, and a mental mantra of ‘shoot me’ ringing through his head on a loop.

To his barely noticeable relief, your gaze somehow grew warmer, a smile spreading across your pretty face. “I’m holding you to that Si. You don’t get to blame the alcohol either, you’ve barely touched your drink.”

It was comfortably quiet between the two of you after that. You returned to work as your co-workers got less and less professional. Things got crazier, but it did allow for him to be mostly ignored in his corner, which he was thankful for. He felt for you though.

He had to play bouncer once when a guy got behind the bar, thinking you denied his number because you couldn’t hear him.

The look in your eyes as you sought distance made Simon act purely on instinct. His speed, size, and training ended the situation quickly. You’d given a relieved exhale of air, and ran a hand down his arm before you ran off to respond to a glass crisis. It occurred to him right then how far he’d go for you. As far as he would for his team, whom he considered something around the range of family.

It frightened him that he’d only known you a few weeks, yet your connection had gotten him this far, but there was nowhere to run from the truth internally. If there was, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

By closing, he was the last customer, and he’d offered to stay while you close up. It wasn’t the first time.

“You better.” you grinned, wiping down the bar.

He started to help you by turning the chairs up on to the tables, and junking miscellaneous trash. He laughed when he heard you shouting about how someone got vomit on the ceiling in the bathroom.

“Fuck it lovie, make the layabouts earn their keep tomorrow.” he called out in response.

He was deep in thought about where he was and what he was doing when he turned and saw you standing by him. You got the rare jump on him.

“Don’t think I’m crazy, or do, because maybe I am. I know you were joking earlier, but I really wish you weren’t.” you threw the formerly white rag in your hand in the trash, smiling, but your eyes held the same vulnerability he always felt around you.

He blinked owlishly, processing your words before standing up to his full height. “I wasn’t joking.”

—

Kyle:

You’re a party girl to your core, but you can’t help it. You run your own bath products company, and it’s hard work. No one should blame you for playing hard to match.

Gaz certainly didn’t blame you, in fact, your vibrant social media is what drew him in. He’d been constantly checking his phone on base, to the annoyance of his partner-in-crime Soap when their pranks and game time started to lack, because Gaz had to check what your new post alert was about.

It took him a minute, but he figured out your page was what Gaz was looking at (and so secretive about). He figured it out when Gaz started watching your live streams, and became so engrossed, Price would have to literally clap him on the back to get him on task.

Soap knew he could forget any plans made if you started a live.

Damnit, he wanted to know who was stealing one of his best mates.

Once he saw you in full, and not glancing around Gaz’s big head, he got it. You were beautiful, vibrant, obviously in the city’s in-crowd. You would’ve fit in perfectly with him and his mates as far as your ability to sniff out a good time went. He couldn’t be mad at you anymore, and it wasn’t just because he had a minor crush on you himself, he knew his friend was gone, and decided to help him out.

He swiped Gaz’s phone and sent him on a wild goose chase so he’d have time to act. Soap put everything he had into that first message, though it wasn’t until after he sent it, he realized it was full of Scots lingo, and he cringed trying to clean it up in the following message. He realized he’d made it worse, and the DM thread looked like a tweaker got hold of the phone.

“What are you doing?” Gaz sounded both panicked and furious, causing Soap to freeze in real time.

“Uh.., I needed…to order food?”

“Bruv, with my phone?!”

“I…also..wanted to find out where you got..that hat.”

Gaz blinked at him, with an expression that clearly asked if Soap’s last brain cell had finally found a better job.

“You were there with me, it was at The Exchange. Give me my phone.”

Soap instinctively yanked the phone out of reach. “Uh, well..wait.”

Gaz’s eyes widened, voice rising. “Mate, hand the phone over or-“

The DM message notification rang out loud enough to silence Gaz immediately. His eyes somehow got wider, his lips forming a tight line.

Soap’s eyes mirrored his own, and his fight or flight instinct was triggered. “I swear…I did this for ye, not to ye this time. Ye cannae be mad about it.”

A beat passed, and Soap tried to ease the incoming meltdown a little more.

“I may have messed the introduction up a little, but I bet she went for the follow up.”

Gaz said nothing, opting instead to lunge for the device. Soap, confused and thinking Gaz was going to strike him, wasn’t fast enough, and though he outmatched Gaz in muscle, said man still took him down.

“Who are you messaging?!”

They rolled, and Soap tried to simultaneously keep Gaz from punching him, while he kept the phone stretched away from them. Another *ding* rang out, and Gaz glanced up to see a notification that contained your user name, and that you had responded. He assumed twice.

He felt his heart drop out of his ass, his eyes locking with Soap’s.

His next punch struck like a snake, fast and quick to Soap’s throat. Said man’s eyes crossed up, and Gaz took the time to try and grab the phone. He was surprised to find Soap’s grip as tight as ever.

“I’ll hand it over when ye promise not to blow up!”

“I promise to crack your chest!”

They continued to roll on the floor, Soap getting his second-wind after Gaz’s threat. Gaz, driven by what he knew had to be the biggest embarrassment of his life coming his way, and Soap by the need to explain his attempt at a good deed.

Two polished boots came into view and a sharp bark of “Knock it the fuck off!” ended the tussle immediately.

Both men sat up, hair and clothing askew, chests heaving with adrenaline.

“What the hell is going on here?” John Price’s infamous gravel inflection hit the both of them, stiffening their spines pole straight.

Nothing came out though. It wasn’t exactly a thing you wanted to tell your captain. Both assumed he thought social media was the Yahoo homepage anyways.

He looked between them, neither meeting his gaze. “Right. Hand it over then.”

Gaz choked. On what, he couldn’t say, probably his dwindling pride. “Just uh…a little sport Captain.”

Soap glanced between them before his blue eyes settled on Price. “Yeah. What’s it gonna be Cap? Run laps, scrub latrines, we’ll take the worst.”

“Don’t worry about that, that’s a given and then some. The phone MacTavish.”

John Price rarely had to demand anything a second time, and neither Soap nor Gaz wanted to be responsible for making him do it a third. Soap gave him an apologetic side glance as he handed over the phone. Gaz cringed, feeling like a kid in class again, getting busted for swapping gross drawings of teachers.

“One of you, open it.” Price held the phone out between the two of them. Gaz sighed and input the code locking down the device.

Price pulled the phone back, and, much too efficiently for Gaz’s taste, began swiping.

Price’s eyes scanned back and forth, and Gaz had to assume he was reading what he still hadn’t had a chance to.

After a beat, Price looked up in disbelief. “All this over a posh little beauty queen? Do you two want the one-four-one to be synonymous with a joke?”

Gaz would serve the mole-people through infinity if it meant they’d make the ground swallow him up right there. How his day had advanced to this was beyond him.

“Captain-“

Price turned to him, brows raised. “You better be glad she likes you and it wasn’t a total waste, or I’d rent you out to the circus like the clowns you two are.”

Gaz stepped back on one foot, his head snapping in disbelief. “Wait..she wha-“

“So it worked then yeah?!” Soap grinned, a breathy laugh supporting his exclamation before quickly straightening up. “I mean, I knew that it would. That’s why I did it.”

“It worked in spite of you spike strip.” Price tossed the phone to Gaz as Soap ran a hand over his treasured mohawk, pouting at the dig. “For whatever reason, that pretty little thing is interested in him.”

Hearing Price confirm your response was positive didn’t make it any easier to believe than the first time he heard it. He had yet to read whatever his dumbass friend sent your way, but…you liked it?

Gaz brought the phone to his face, and started to open the app so he could finally see for himself.

“I don’t think so.” Price warned with a sharp shake of his head. “That goes in your locker, now, and the two of you meet me out on the track.”

Gaz and Soap both hung their heads.

“Hopefully she comes to her senses by the time you’re able to even hold that thing again, let alone use it.”

“Yes sir.” Gaz locked the phone again, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

You must’ve looked at his page, and no matter what crazy thing Soap had sent you, you liked him.

That knowledge carried him through so many laps on the track he vomited up things he swore he hadn’t eaten since he was 5, scrubbing bunks and latrines on his hands and knees until a hole opened in his pants over one knee, and endless up-downs until he and Soap had to literally pull each other up and help each other down.

When he finally collapsed in the locker room later, swearing he’d make it to the shower before he even thought of climbing in bed, he managed to dig his phone out of his locker first.

He was suddenly nervous, you were so gorgeous to him, and if your response was some pitying virtual head pat, he’d jump in front of the next Humvee he saw.

Then again, it was Price who said you liked him, and the man had no reason to or interest in making him feel better about the matter.

He unlocked the phone and quickly opened the app before he lost his nerve.

You: ‘Um excuse me???’

He winced.

You: ‘Oh wait, I checked out your page. You’re from the UK? I didn’t know what you were saying😅. I still kinda don’t, but now I don’t think you’re creepy…you’re actually pretty cute. Thanks for your service.😘🫡’

His heartbeat sped up, and all his aches and bodily gripes were forgotten as he leaned forward on the bench. You had all his attention, and you quite possibly didn’t mind that.

He smirked, proud of his carefully curated page and the body his job helped him maintain. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how silly he was for worrying. Of course you had some interest in him, he could match your energy with ease.

He opened the keyboard ready to respond when all his short-lived bravado fell down around him. What the fuck was he supposed to say back?

—————

Johnny:

It made the two of you somewhat uncomfortable when you thought about how much chance it took for you guys to meet. The thought of not being together felt more foreign than you two ever had to each other. Johnny chose not to dwell on it, accepting how lucky he was often overshadowed the thought.

Your best friend since college was getting married, and you were not only maid of honor, but the wedding planner. Scotland was the homeland of your friend, and you knew on a good day she missed it with her whole heart.

You did your best to incorporate her culture and her friends and family abroad into the ceremony.

This, it turned out, included her brother’s best friend John “Soap” MacTavish, who was also a family friend.

“Is Soap a um…traditional Scottish name?” you’d asked, holding up the name list she’d given you, and thinking your friend was setting you up for a joke.

“He was Johnny for years, but he came back from his dream job, built like a house, and was like ‘They call me Soap now.’.” she deepened her accent and voice to mock what you assumed he sounded like. “Don’t pay it any mind, he’s still our Johnny.”

So John “They call me Soap now” MacTavish was sent an invitation too. What you did not expect was her family to come into the country as quickly as they did. You still had a few weeks of planning, and from the moment they flooded her townhome, you were swept into their familial hurricane.

They couldn’t have been sweeter to you, but they all had input. You were overwhelmed within 30 minutes of being with them, despite your friend reeling them in repeatedly.

Johnny became your touchstone when, based on his energetic introduction, you expected him to be part of the chaos.

As you took notes and suggestions, he was the one who translated when the accents got too thick, or they slipped into Scots.

Someone got a little too aggressive with their suggestion, or talked over you? Johnny was calling out over the din and restoring the closest thing to order that he could.

His helpfulness didn’t end that evening. He became your living official Scotland handbook.

The work you’d dreaded being added on top of what you already had to do found a partial home on his shoulders. Every choice you brought before your friend and her family received loud approval, and Johnny refused your credit every time. Claiming it was your beautiful, quick, and organized mind making the magic happen.

He was at your place bright and early every morning, the two of you forgetting you were virtually strangers who’d been thousands of miles apart the majority of your lives.

In the process of planning and arranging, you showed Johnny your neck of the woods, and the culture in Atlanta. He was fascinated by everything and you’d never been happier, having his complete and utter interest.

He loved your accent, he loved how friendly the people in the mom and pop places you took him to were, he loved how proud you were to be a Georgia girl.

He would always be a proud son of Scotland, so he got it.

“You’re really eatin’ the third one now?!” you laughed watching Johnny go through his third hot chicken sandwich. “Boy, you’re crazy!”

“And well fed too yeah.” he grinned around the huge bite he’d taken. “I’d punch Ghost square in the back of his head if they’d bring a Hattie B’s to Scotland. Of course, I’d have to stand on a stool.”

“Ghost?” you raised an eyebrow, swallowing the fry you’d been chewing.

“Oh yeah, my best mate in the service. He’s like a fuckin’ tree….if trees hit really hard and were just generally terrifying.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re in the service, that’s so cool. Is that the dream job?”

His eyes widened, his chest puffing out in pride at your words. “I am, youngest member to make it into my unit too. Got lucky with a pretty good team.”

“That where you get the name Soap? What is that about by the way?”

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. Visions of what his nickname referred to came to mind, and he felt like a wall was coming between the two of you. He wasn’t ashamed of his career, or most of the things he’d done to maintain it, but it’d been nice to almost be a civilian again. He hadn’t been just John or Johnny in a long time.

The distance from home, and the crush he wasn’t even going to pretend he didn’t have, helping the fantasy.

“Yeah.”

You senses the tone change, and started to withdraw your curiosity. “We can drop it.”

“Nah, it’s not a bad thing Bonnie, it’s just…” he furrowed his brow in thought, and you resisted the hard urge to touch him. “This is the first leave I’ve had in…maybe ever that I don’t feel a thin wall ‘tween me and my people. It’s just nice for a little bit.”

“Say less.” You pushed your seasoned fries towards him, snorting at his excited expression. “Let’s talk about how much I love it when you call me Bonnie instead.”

He choked, and your small hands found his back, pounding on what felt like a stone wall. “Jesus hen, you can’t just drop somethin’ like that when a man’s mid swallow.”

You brushed your hand over the back of his neck as you retracted it back to your person. Lowering your voice to a soft decibel. “I like when you call me that too.”

——

John Price:

How he’d let himself be talked into a cruise of all things, John would never know.

….

That wasn’t true.

The pretty American office worker flagged him down when he went in for his briefing with the higher ups. She looked distressed, and John could feel that protective nature of his rear up in his chest and stiffen his spine. Before he could even register that he’d spoken, he’d told her whatever his help could provide, it was hers.

She’d flustered at that, tucking some hair behind her ear, and gave a sheepish smile. Her reaction sent a shock of pride from his brain to his cock.

She explained how she and a friend group back home had made plans for a week-long cruise out of Florida. She’d been looking forward to it, missing her home country, and having planned it out very carefully in the group chat. Then, earlier that week, it was brought to the light that one of the girls slept with the husband of another one.

Sides were taken, she was attacked for being out of the country and unaware of the nuanced changes in the group, and then all the girls pulled out, essentially leaving her holding four tickets and the shreds of a perfect vacation.

That was you. A mess who’d been arguing with the travel agency, trying to wrangle all of your friends, and figure out how you wound up wasting several thousand dollars at that point.

John just stood there, like a coat rack with a bucket hat on top. Stiff, and unsure of what to do, say, or even what expression he should school his shocked features into.

He stood there long enough for you to become embarrassed and wave him off and return to your desk.

“I’m so sorry I bothered you. God, you’re a Captain! It’s just, my momma and daddy have been on me from the beginning about how much of waste a trip like this is…‘girl why would you spend that much to float in the ocean with a bunch of strangers, you can borrow our boat and fish in the lake for free’.” you trailed off, realizing you were rambling and shoved your face in your hands.

He thought you were adorable. Most days, he wanted to find the nearest surface and have you on it, only to be embarrassed that at his age, he was thinking like a teenager.

However, right then you were just plain adorable, accent in full swing because you were upset. John knew you were from somewhere in the southern US. Louisiana? Texas?

He approached your desk, hands splayed as he leaned his weight forward. “Love, it’s not a problem. I’m just not sure what I can do about it…aside from hunting down the husband and siccing Laswell on the other girl.”

You gave a full belly laugh. “That could work.”

He grinned, sitting on the edge of the desk, deciding he wanted more of the laugh and soon.

You quieted and started fiddling with a pen that’d been nearby. “But seriously…I would never ask you this if I thought I had other options. It’s just…you’re the person I’ve gotten closest to so far here, and um..I spent so much on those tickets. I even saved from my first paycheck into this last one..”

Your words were coming out fast and close, but John could pick them out. Admitting he was closer to you than anyone in the country warmed him so much, he didn’t care if the next words out of your mouth were asking him to reimburse you. He couldn’t imagine what else you could ask for, but at that point he’d do it.

“Do you mind filling in those spots for me with your team? It’s a perfect amount of tickets, and then I won’t be all alone, and it won’t be a waste, and just ugh! I need you to save my ass Captain Price.” you looked up at him with wide pleading eyes.

For a fraction of second, Price wondered if you knew what you did to him, and that you could use that look to take over the mind of a weapon western governments spent a small fortune to train.

Then your request hit him like a train. You wanted him, and the adult nursery school he’d wrangled into the formation of the 141 to crash your vacation? Your sanity was up for debate.

“At any given time I’m working with half a shared brain cell between two muppets, and their long-suffering murder pet. I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“Oh.”

“In fact, their jackets read like the instructions for taking care of a Gremlin. No cruises is pretty high up there.” John tried to humor his way out of the suggestion until he caught sight of your face.

You looked so disappointed, but then your expression shifted to one he couldn’t quite read.

“But you’d be there wouldn’t you?” wide pleading eyes just for him, trained on him.

He flushed, reluctantly stepping around what may have been the flirtatious tactic. “Spending my leave pulling duty as a zoo keeper.”

“Work on your tan then Casper, I’m worried about you. You’d disappear in a snow storm.” You switched up your tactic again, hoping to amuse him into helping.

Price gave a full-belly laugh of his own, the kind he’d rarely even consider letting out at work. “Negging me isn’t going to work love, I’d stick with begging.”

“Damn.” John watched you rise up again, slipping around your desk in heels he couldn’t stare at too long if he wanted to remain professional. “John Price, I swear if you don’t say yes after this, I don’t care where you are on this base I will find you. There, I will salt your coffee and unravel your cigars.”

You inhaled.“Johncanyouandtherestofthe141takethesdamnticketsbeforeIsnap?”

John pretended to think, enjoying watching you literally squirm from the corner of his eye. Despite the jokes, John wasn’t truly an old man, but you did make him feel much younger than he was and he liked it.

He liked the tiny carefree moments he spent with you throughout the day, and he supposed that’d be nice for one sunny week.

“I’ll toss it to the lads, see what they say, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Meaning you’re going to make them do it.”

“Precisely.”

——-

As he stood before his men, he cursed his gentlemanly nature when faced with a woman in need. Well, if he was being entirely honest, he wasn’t being gentlemanly, and maybe this was what he deserved.

It wasn’t chivalry alone, it was pure, unadulterated thirst. He wanted you the way a very hungry man wanted a woman, and he was thinly veiling it behind a tip of the top hat and cane.

Gaz and Soap made him feel like the 141 father the higher ups teased him about being. They reacted as though daddy came home with a promise of DisneyLand.

“The last time you told us to pack, I was picking small snakes out of my pack for over an hour. Gotta say, I want this to be a habit Captain.” Gaz was grinning, phone already in hand as he searched for vacation clothes.

“Yeah. Didn’t expect this when I woke up this mornin’. You’re not tryin’ to infringe on my prank brand right sir?”

Ghost reacted as predicted. Posture stiff, arms crossed, and his eyes doing all the talking. They said a number of ways Price should die, an even greater number of ways he could go fuck himself, and that he’d try whatever he could to get out of it.

“You’re not getting out of it.” Price dashed that dream immediately, but he’d let him fantasize about killing him all cruise long if it helped.

“Why would you want to L.T.?” Soap looked up from where he’d been trying to add items he wanted into Gaz’s cart. “Mud in yer boots, or bikinis and a pint? Pretty hard choice.”

“I don’t wanna see you in a bikini, mate.” Gaz quipped, a grunt leaving him when Soap punched his shoulder.

Price ignored that, and interrupted on the off chance that Ghost would entertain Soap with an answer. “Everyone’s going, It’s one week and you’ve all seen worse. You will be on time, you will behave and represent this unit accordingly, and by god you will all be gracious for the opportunity.”

The last line was meant specifically for Ghost.

Said man smirked behind the mask, tiny details revealed this if you knew what to look for. “Don’t worry sir, I’ll be on my best behavior for your pretty little office bird.”

Price swallowed hard, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he counted to ten, and ignored Soap and Gaz’s aggressive inquiries. He was definitely being punished.

#141 x reader #cod #cod x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x Reader #Kyle Gaz Garrick x Reader #John Soap MacTavish x Reader #John Price x Reader #Soap x reader #Ghost x reader #cod mw2 #141 #Call of Duty #kyle gaz garrick #John Price #Simon Ghost Riley #Simon Riley

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ghouljams · 7 months

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but witch having a bad day bc somethings upset her n wanting price? Like n she struggles so much bc she knows if she was scared or hurt she'd pull bc shed have to and he'd be happy to help her out but rn she just wants price, not needs him. And price would be so over the moon when he feels the most tentative tug on the tether.

Istg thats how they finally become closer, when witch starts calling him when she wants him not just needs him

God I'm so fucking feral for them, they want each other so badly but neither of them wants to say anything for fear of scaring the other away. Even Price's flirting is such a cleverly disguised misdirect of his feelings. What do you mean he's in love, no no he's just flirting because it's fun, he's just naturally charming like this. And Witch literally can't stop her care from bleeding through into her spells, everything she gives Price is such a declaration, but God forbid she say she likes him or she might burst into flame. Anyway, here's some fluff for them, lowkey inspire by this video

People always assume that magic makes everything easier, that if they had access to the power you do they'd never have another bad day. The reality of magic isn't quite so... magical. It makes life easier sure, but only if you've prepared for the bad days in advance. Even then it's balm on a wound, an extra dose of ibuprofen for a migraine, another chore to upkeep if you want it to do anything to soothe the ache.

You can chart all the sigils you want onto your skin, but it doesn't unburden the ache in your chest. Doesn't relieve the burgeoning sadness or the sticky fingers of anxiety. There's no good reason for the dark cloud over your head, your day was hectic but you've handled worse. It's your hormones making your usually warm house feel cold and cavernous, making everything feel bigger and more terrible than it actually is. They make you curl into the corner of your couch, lonely, as you tuck your knit blanket under your feet.

There was a time that being alone didn't bother you. You've spent most of your adult life alone, content with phone calls and the occasional visit from your loved ones. Now your thoughts hover around wanting someone nearby, wanting to be held and comforted with physicality instead of words. You can't ask anyone for that.

Well, you suppose you could. You know one person who would gladly give you that. The idea of calling him is more embarrassing than calling one of your friends. You can't ask Price over for something so small, so self indulgent. Besides, you'd so quickly brushed off his concern when you saw him this afternoon. You'd feel like a liar asking for him now when you could hardly spare him time between the day's appointments. That doesn't stop you from wanting him, as much as you chastise yourself for it.

Your fingers toy with the tethers the lay against your skin. They're so gentle, hardly a spider's strand to their weight, easy to ignore. It's silly feeling your heart clench just thinking of how easy it would be to call him here. He's likely busy. The world outside your front window is dark, it wouldn't be worth his effort to even knock on your door. Wanting is so pesky. Your magic feels muddled, responsive to your desires but caged by your self imposed limitations. You try to think of something that could replace the feeling of having Price around when your ears pop. You tug sharply at your tethers as you turn to see what your wards are decidedly not biting.

Price rolls his shoulders with a pleased groan, "There it is, barely felt the first one." You untangle your fingers and wipe them against your blanket, as if you could erase the evidence of your wanting. Price walks around the couch to sit on the side opposite you. He drops heavily onto the plush cushion, leaning against the back with a sigh. He looks tired. You feel worse for having called him, you weren't trying to.

"I didn't mean to call you," You tell him. Price hums, his eyes closed as he rests his head against the afghan thrown over the back cushions. Having a guest in your house makes you feel restless. "I'll put a kettle on," You unbundle yourself, and slip your feet back onto the floor.

"Sit," Price tells you, commands you, as you start to stand. Your butt hits the cushion again in record time, the after effects of foreign magic shaking your fingertips as you draw your feet up again. "What do you need?" He asks.

You sigh, try not to feel like a huge fucking burden for a man who's really been nothing but helpful and understanding to you previous requests. You prop your cheek against your hand, going for casual. You're not sure if you sell it. "Nothing," you lie.

As if he'd believe that. Not when he could feel the soft pangs of loneliness with each brush of your fingers through the tethers connecting you. Price watches you tug your knees up to your chest, feels the lingering want on his skin, the clutch of his heart at the gentle look in your eyes. You're truly a terrible liar. Even if he hadn't felt your desires, he'd know you wanted something. You hardly look at him.

What about what he wants then? Is it easier for you to blame him?

He wants to hold you, wants to comfort you in the way you seem so desperate for. Why shouldn't he? Feeling you pull for him had tipped the rest of the world off his plate, it's just you, you're all he needs. All he wants.

"C'mere sweethear'," He holds a hand out to you, feeling your gaze touch his fingers. Your hesitation betrays you. "Unless you want me comin' over there," Price warns. You jump to take his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hand grips your hair, your nose presses to his shoulder as you curl your legs to lean against him.

You smell like burnt magic, bitter and smokey. His hand digs under your shirt to rub your back, his lips insistent against your shoulder, your neck, your hair. You relax against him like unspooling thread, each muscle and line going slack in his hold. He can feel the crisp edges of whatever cage you sealed yourself in, his fingers starting to scratch at the dark swirls of it. You'll feel better if he pulls you out of it.

"Don't," You hum, your voice so sweet and tired, muffled against him.

"Not meant to keep everything cooped up love," Price reminds you. You make a quiet 'mmph' sound, arms starting to unwind from your tight grip on him. A threat you'll make good on if he isn't careful.

"Safer like this," You jerk a little closer when his blunt nails dig into the charcoal ink, the shiver of his attempts at breaking your magic making you feel electric. "Just hold me, please." You try a different approach. His fingers still, before every inch of his hold tightens on you.

"Thought you'd never ask," He mumbles. It feels like he can't get close enough to you, and after some maneuvering you're laying on top of him.

This you can do. You stretch out your legs, feel him shift underneath you, making sure you get as much contact with him as he can manage. Price bends his knee, the leg on the outside of the couch boxing you in carefully as you settle against his hip, your legs falling on either side of his thick thigh. He tugs a blanket over the both of you, keeping an arm around your shoulders. You forget sometimes, the way he dresses, that he is a well muscled man. You can feel the way each of them move and flex, the soft layer over them hardly disguising the raw strength that lays underneath.

You're safer like this, you think. Safer with him, always. Safe to want things without feeling like a burden. And even if you were a burden, he seems to say with a smile, I'd gladly carry it.

#Price's side of this fic is that he was sitting in the bar after a long day #felt literally the slightest touch from Witch and immediately focused all his attention on it #cataloguing what she was feeling as she touched his tethers #and plotting whether or not she was pulling for him #eerily silent while the rest of the 141 stares at him #before he just stands and apparates to Witch lol #tw periods #cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #x oc #price x oc #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x oc #john price mw2 #captain price #captain price x oc #captain price x reader #captain price cod #not to get too into it but I think the combination of blood and magic #makes periods sorta dangerous for witches #nothing better than magical blood for power hungry fae #which does mean Price gets a little feral when it's that time of the month #and like any other time of the month #Ghost and König get the same way with their darlings #fae!price #1fae1

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