#gonna set the building on fire grumble grumble

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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[briefalpacashark]

~Meeting 141~

The first time you meet the members of task force 141.

Warning: mentions of violence, death, blood.

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It was a typical mission. Neck deep in shit and halfway to hell. The mission was simple. It had two parts. The first part was to collect information off a computer. It was a two team mission, Alpha consisting of Gaz, Soap and Ghost. And Bravo, consisting of Price and Roach. Currently, they were both making their way through an oil rig in the early hours of the morning, with the cover of night. A nice little base for some black market operations. The second part of the mission was harder. Extracting the asset. And asset Price informed them beforehand would be joining their team.

“What ya recon he's gonna be like?” Soap asked as he stood in the main office room, gun raised at the door, ready for anything. The group had many guesses of who the newest member of their team would be. Price wasen't necessarily secretive about them, but he didn't tell them anything about them either. “He's a medic. Probably likes sticking stuff up ass’s,” Ghost, who was positioned by the door, said, making the two guys smirk. “Youll love that then, won't you?” Gaz asked, not taking his eyes off the computer screen in front of him. Soap chuckled at Ghost's dead panned look. “Come on Gaz, you know he's sensitive about that sort of thing,” Soap joked. “I hope you both get shot in the ass,” Ghost grumbled. “Done,” Gaz announced. “Alright, let's move,” Soap said. Getting into formation, they peeled out of the room. “Ghost to Price, we've got the package, on the move out of er,” Ghost spoke into the com's. “Copy that, Asset secured, see you soon,” Price's voice cracked over the radio. They moved through the oil rig quietly, their shadows barely noticeable in the dark as they moved down the outer side of the buildings, the metal racks slick with the rain that had just started. Then it started, a lucky spot, a glint of metal perhaps brought attention to team Alpha. They were set upon by a volley of bullets. They bucked behind the cover of a building, trying to return fire as best they could. Ghost, who had taken point, peeked around the building taking out two men. That was until he felt his leg buckle as pain erupted up his thigh. “FUCK!” he exclaimed as he dropped to one knee.

“WE'RE TAKING HEAVEY FIRE! GHOST GOT HIT!” Gaz yelled into the com's as he helped Ghost to the ground. He took one look at the bullet hole, his face washing itself of colour. It was spurting blood like crazy. “He's hit bad!” Gaz added. His worry for his friend was quickly forgotten when a group of men came around a corner to their left. He raised his gun and started shooting. “Theres too many,” Soap grunted as they tucked themselves behind a few barrels. They were pinned down, unable to return fire and stuck like sitting ducks. They couldn't use explosives, one wrong flame could set the whole place up like a tinderbox. The enemy team slowly moved forward, laying the cover on heavy as they approached the barrels. The soft rapid patter of feet on metal drew the lad's eyes high. And there you were. Your small five foot three frame throwing itself of a higher level soaring across the sky. Knife and gun in hand. Your hair long and braided, whipped in the wind behind you. The assaulting team barely registered your presence before you landed upon the lead. Your knife burying itself beep into his neck, His body toppled over with the hit. You used the momentum to roll up to your next opponent, you dragged the knife across the back of his knee, pulling him into a kneel. Rising up you shot him in the head before propping his body up as a shied as you delivered three more accurate shots. The small assault team now all lay dead at your feet. Fueled with the adrenalin, and the absurdity of the stunt you had just pulled, you slowly tuned around to the three guys peeking over the barrels with shocked looks.

“Friendly,” you raised both your hands. You chest heaved, your eyes scanning over them to see if they would believe you. “Macgyver, the fuck was that!” You snapped around to Price, who stood at the edge of the level you had jumped from. Seeing if from that angle you could see that you drastically underestimate the height of it. “Improvisation?” you shrugged, you didn't really know yourself. You had never done anything that crazy before. yet you had seen your team mates in danger. And you acted. “Fucking hell. Patch Ghost up and let's get the hell out of here! We'll provide cover!” he ordered. You nodded, tucking your gun and knife into the back of your pants. You rushed up to the barrel, vaulting over it and landing in a crouch over the legs of who you assumed was Ghost. What stared back at you was a skull mask, revealing only the dark pools of his eyes. He certainly was a sight. One you didn't know whether to be scared of or impressed by. “Ghost?” You asked. In your adrenaline fueled state, you didn't notice how close you were to him. He could feel your hot breath fanning his face. He could smell the lavender soap you had used that morning. He gave a curt nod, but you had already moved your eyes down his body, looking from the issue. Finding it the gapping whole you quickly knew what it was. The bullet had hit an artery. Your hands ran down the Ghost's vest, searching for the familiar tourniquet. Soap shared a look with Gaz as you practically fondled their friend. Finding the tourniquet, you undid it, slipping it up his thigh. It was a high shot, so your hands were placed dangerously close to his groin as you quickly worked your magic. Ghost didn't know what to do or say as your small hands touched his so closely with no remorse. After all, you were a medic. You didn't care about that sort of stuff. Still, you could feel a blush dusting the tops of your ears. “He's hit an arty, we need to get him out. I've stopped the bleeding, but I need tools to fix that,” you said absentmindedly peeking around the corner of the building. You quickly ducked your head back as bullets volleyed towards you.

“Ok, can't go that way, Come on,” You swiveled yourself to Ghost's left side, taking his arm and hooking it over your shoulders. You huffed as you heaved him to his feet, They were momentarily surprised at the strength your little body possessed. Gaz quickly took his other arm and you lead them quickly to the rendezvous point. Where you practically threw ghost into the boat. The poor lad grunted as he hit the bottom of the boat taking Gaz with him. “Sorry,” you apologized jumping over them to the controls of the boat. ���Were at the rendezvoused, where are you?” Soap asked into the com's. “Look up,” Piece said. You all did just in time to see their bodies plunge into the water beside you. You waited till they were pulled into the boat before you slammed the throttle down. The sun slowly started to rise, casting a golden hue over you. “Both assets secured?” Soap asked. Price nodded, wringing his hat out, Gaz doing the same as he lifted up the hard drive. “So,” Soap trailed off. "She's a woman," he stated. "Great deduction skills," Ghost commented. “That is Sargent Y/L/N. Australian special forces. Best medic out there. Can do anything a doctor can do,” Price stated. “Oh Cap, you're making me blush,” you said, looking back at them with the brightest smile you could muster. A smile that seemed to be awfully contagious. “Men meet the newest member of 141,” Pierce smiled back at you. “Glad to be on board,” you nodded before your eyes fell back to Ghost. “Can someone take over?” You asked. Roach happily obliged. Walking over to Ghost you pulled your knife and started cutting away at his pants. “At least buy me dinner first, love,” You chuckled slightly, placing your hand on his bear thigh gazing deeply into the bullet hole. Your hand slipped around the back. “No exit wound. Looks like I'm gonna have to dig it out when we get back,” you muttered. Ghost wasn't listening, he was fixated on the feeling of your hand running across his bear skin. Aside from the burning pain of being shot, it felt pleasant. “I think I might have a bullet hole too,” Soap interjected, raising his hand. "I'll put one in you," Price warned.

And that was how you first meet the 141. Literally dropping into their lives.

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--COD Master List Here--

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#cod #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod 141 #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost x reader #141 x you #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #task force x reader

[blissfulbarbie]

Scary Husband Privileges / Joel Miller x Reader

Description: No outbreak AU. Joel hates your boss. Hates him. What was meant to be a day off for the both of you, turns into Joel grumpily driving you to work and meeting you for lunch. And then you bump into your boss.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: This was inspired by @cruelfvkingsummer's grumpy!husband!Joel prompt ! All credit for the original idea goes to them.

"Who do you think would win in a fight, me or Mr. Weasel?" "Wessell. And the answer is neither of you because it's never gonna happen." "No, but if–" "Joel, you are not fighting my boss. Not even in your head. Got it?" "But he's a fucking-" "Joel." "Fine."

Unbeknownst to the wealthy CEO, there was a one-sided beef going on between a Mr. Joel Miller and Mr. Carter Wessell. Mr Wessell is your boss at the publishing company you've been working at for the past year, and Joel does not like that man. Mr. Wessell is too comfortable asking you to work overtime without giving you the chance to say no and not approving your days off even when you work more days than any of the other employees in the company. Despite being married, his eyes also tend to wander when you are around, and you find yourself trying to avoid being alone with him. His suggestive comments and "friendly touches" toe the line of being inappropriate. Of course, Joel doesn't know this part because if he did, he would set fire to your office building.

Today is one of those days where you tried to request a day off, which was denied by your boss. You wanted the day off to spend with Joel as he had arranged a day off work too. But your boss insisted that he needed you at work to complete an "urgent task."

Joel's phone alarm blares relentlessly, ripping through the morning's peace. Grumbling under his breath, he slaps the off button. The room is bathed in a soft, golden glow as he looks over at you, still fast asleep beside him. Cautiously, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle for a man with such a gruff exterior.

Joel gets up, careful not to wake you, and heads to the bathroom. The cold shower sends shivers down his spine, but it’s enough to wake him up, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. Your boss had refused to let you take the day off so you could spend it together, and it's gnawing at him.

Dressing in his usual jeans and a plain t-shirt, he can't shake off the frustration. He was so looking forward to spending the day with you. Why does some stuffy old man in a suit get to decide whether or not you get to spend the day with your husband?

As he descends the creaking stairs, Joel can't help but sigh. Despite all of his annoyance, he was going to make this the best damn work day as possible for you. He'd start by making you breakfast. The sizzle of the frying pan fills the kitchen, filling him with the smell of victory. I can do this. I can make today good.

As Joel daydreams about different methods of torture for your boss, you appear at the kitchen door, hair tousled, and a sleepy smile on your face. "Morning. You're up early. You should've slept in." You walk up behind him and give him a kiss on his back before taking your place at the dining table.

Joel grunts a vague response, not wanting to make a big deal out of the fact that he woke up earlier than he would have, just to make you breakfast before you head off to work. He places the food in front of you, kisses the top of your head, and tucks your hair behind your ears before sitting down next to you.

"Your boss is a real piece of work," he grumbles.

You smile sadly, clearly sharing his frustration, but you attempt to diffuse his irritation. "I'll talk to him, Joel. But we won't let this ruin our day, okay?" Finally, he gets a day off from his job, and all he wants to do is spend it with you, and he can't. Your heart aches.

Joel nods, his eyes softening just a fraction. "Yeah, yeah. I just think you deserve a break. You work so hard.”

You nod. “You know, despite my boss being a Grade A asshole, I really do like my job. And the money is good."

Joel nods silently in response. He can’t deny that. Ever since you got this job, you've both been living more comfortably than before. You got the kitchen renovated and managed to build him a shed to work on his woodwork projects. He loves it.

And God, he's so damn proud of you. You don’t know this, but he brags to all the guys at work about his wife who works in a swanky new building in town and has her own office. "Where's your girl?" they ask when you miss out on a get-together they're having. "She's still working. Yeah, they're starting a new project, and she's leading it, so they need her there. Important stuff," he replies with a serious look on his face, but his heart swells with pride. My wife is so fucking cool, he finds himself thinking often.

After the dishes are washed, and you've finished your coffee, you move to get the car keys. "Okay, I should get going. Thanks for breakfast, sweetheart. We're still having lunch together, right?”

Joel gets up with you and snatches the car keys from your hands. “I’ll drive. And yes, we are having lunch together.”

“Joel, go rest. I can drive–”

Already at the doorway by this point, Joel keeps walking towards the car and yells back at you, “Clock’s ticking, slowpoke. Don’t wanna be late. Get your ass in the car now.”

You shake your head, racing towards the car with your grumpy husband already in the driver’s seat, honking the horn like a lunatic and probably waking the whole neighborhood up.

--

Joel’s jaw is set with determination as he drives. He wants to spend every minute of his off day with you because that was the whole reason he took the day off in the first place. If that means driving through rush hour traffic to get you to work, so be it.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," you mumbled.

Joel gave a curt nod. "Damn right. That’s what makes me such a good husband.”

You smile and nod in agreement. As the car pulls up to a stop in front of the building, Joel turns to you.

“I'll pick you up later for lunch. Remember. We. Are. Having. Lunch. Together.” He enunciates each word loudly and clearly.

“I know, Joel.” You smile. Even through his grumpy old man antics, you can’t help but find him adorable.

“And that means, you say no if Mr Weasel–”

“Wessell.”

“Weasel asks you to go out for lunch with him and the team. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if he insists that you go along, you give him my number and tell him to talk to me. Yes?”

“No.”

“Baby–”

You cut him off with a kiss on the lips. “I’ll be there. I love you. See you later.”

--

After you finish your lunch, you and Joel are walking back to the car, fingers laced together. You round a corner, and suddenly, you both catch a glimpse of Mr. Wessell exiting the restaurant opposite the street. The man was in the middle of a heated phone call, his face reddening as he yelled into the phone.

Joel's eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw, his blood pressure rising. Although they’d never met, Joel recognized him from the company Facebook page that he only followed to see pictures of you at work. He couldn't help but scoff, "Now we can’t even go for lunch without seeing that dumbass?” 

You're quick to intervene. You cup your hand over Joel’s mouth and whisper, "Shut up, he might hear you.” 

With a hand cupped over his mouth, Joel didn’t look very menacing, but he made sure to shoot a glare at the man who was still distractedly yelling into his phone. 

You tug on Joel's arm, trying to pull him away. "Come on, let's go, little bulldog. Down boy."

Joel reluctantly gets dragged by you, your hand still cupped over his mouth. His voice comes out muffled as he glances back at your boss saying, "I’m gonna destroy him with my mind."

You keep dragging him along as you say in a placating voice. "Oh, I’m sure you can. Big scary grumpy old man. Now let’s stop playing John Wick and get to the car.” 

Joel narrows his eyes at you. You release his mouth and turn to face the street. You chuckle softly as you walk back to the car together. Your scary husband privileges amuse you to no end. It’s funny, but it’s also reassuring to know that he has your back if things go south.

--

"I am kinda like John Wick." Joel mumbles as you walk hand in hand back to the car.

"Joel, we are not having this conversation again. You are not like John Wick."

"No, you're right. I'm better."

Tag list: @just-some-random-blogger @joeldjarin @pattwtf

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction

[shayyprasad]

right next door // part two | peter parker

summary: summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.

warnings: none, maybe cursing?

pairing: post-nwh!peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader

word count: 2.0k+ words

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full masterlist!

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you yelped, and in panic, threw down the dish towel onto the fire, hastily trying to get rid of it. you nervously glanced up at the alarm, sighing in relief when it didn’t go off.

well, that relief?

it lasted two seconds.

the loud blaring sound made you jump, and you whined.

“are you kidding me? you have to be kidding me. seriously, i mean, it’s my first freaking day here and i’ve already messed it up. everyone’s gonna freaking hate me. i’ll have neighbors that hate me! and then they’ll kick me out and arsenate me and-”

you cut yourself off, realizing that you had to get out of the apartment.

“screw you, stupid oven!” and for good measure, you threw the measuring cup at it, only slightly wincing at the loud bang.

sighing, you exited the flat, dreading what was yet to come. there were already people out in the hall, cursing and grumbling under their breath. you paused in front of the elevator before realizing that wasn’t going to pass. you slipped into the crowd that was already down the stairs, checking the time on your phone.

you didn’t bring anything else but that, knowing that it wasn’t an actual fire.

you know because you’re the one who set it off.

it was 10:47pm, so not everyone had been sleeping, but there was also a large chuck of people who were.

several people were dressed in their pjs, including yourself. all you had on was a black satin shirt, paired with matching shorts.

…which were definitely short.

you tugged them down as far as you could, biting down on your lips. you were on the literal verge of a mental breakdown. how did everything go so south, so fast?

were you really that incapable of taking care of yourself?

you needed to be more responsible, you thought.

you exited through the front, and the cold air hit you like a brick, making you shiver. to say it was cold outside was an understatement.

it was absolutely freezing.

blowing out breath, you watched as the white cloud dissipated. out of the corner of your eye, you spotted peter. mustering up all the courage you could, you walked over, hugging your sides to warm up.

“um, hi. again.”

he looked over at you, tilting his head slightly. your heart was racing, thudding against your ribcage so loudly you could hear it in your ears.

you held your breath, afraid that he’d hear your racing heart.

no, you scoffed in your head, that’s impossible.

“hey,” his voice was slightly raspy, mussed with sleep.

you shivered again, but not just because of the cold. your brows knitted in guilt, you must’ve woken him up as well.

“some idiot, huh?” you blurted.

“what?” he asked, recoiling slightly, as he straightened up.

“who bakes cookies this late?” god, you needed to shut up. now.

“uh, cookies?”

“well, you know. you can start a fire by baking cookies,” you stammered, trying to amend what you’d already said.

“yeah. i guess.”

you rubbed your arms harder, watching the firemen inspect the building.

“here,” you turned to see peter thrust something towards you. squinting, you realized it was a jacket.

“oh, no, it’s okay, really.”

“you’re cold,” peter said bluntly.

“yes, but-”

“just take it. you can return it later if it’ll make you feel better.”

“are you sure?”

“if i wasn’t sure, i wouldn’t be giving it to you.”

“oh, um, okay. thank you.” reluctantly, you slipped it on.

it smelled like pinewood and… peter, you supposed. you clutched it closer, inhaled the scent. was it weird that you instantly felt so comforted?

“it’s not a biggie.”

you smiled at him anyways, and he quickly looked away.

one of the firemen walked up to the crowd, throwing his hands up. “we’re good. just some dunce set it off. no fire or anything.”

you forced out a laugh, “yeah. what a dunce.”

waking alongside peter, you went back up to your room. standing in front of your room door, you smiled softly at him, no less bright than the one before.

he pulled out his keys, and you opened your mouth, “have a goodnight peter. sleep well.”

this time, he looked at you. for the first time, he actually held eye contact.

he really looked at you.

“you too,” peter murmured, before slipping into the darkness of his room.

-

if you were being honest, you weren’t sure if he liked you or not. truly, you couldn’t tell. last night, and he didn’t even really do anything, but it seemed like there wasn’t pure annoyance in his voice.

that was a start, right? i mean, that had to count for something? right?

right?

probably. most likely? you didn’t know.

honestly, you didn’t know anything when it came to him. you were trying to talk to him, but he kept brushing you off.

oh, well. you’d make it work.

you had dough left over from last night, and you really wanted to put it to use. “i can’t waste it,” you murmured, biting your lip. “but, god, i don’t need a part two of last night. that would be terrible. there goes any hope of peter freaking parker liking me back. as a friend, duh. for now. maybe.”

pulling it out of the fridge, you grabbed some cookie cutters and a baking pan. you clipped off the top of the tupperware box, tearing off a small piece of dough. it tasted like home.

you’d used the same recipe as your mother, in hopes that it would cure some of your homesickness. but standing here with raw chocolate chip dough in your stomach, you felt rather opposed to that.

sure, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love them.

you did.

they were overbearing, and that was alright. they were just more careful given… given what happened.

it was reasonable. after all, you were all they had left now.

“nope. no. think happy thoughts. we think happy thoughts.”

no matter what though, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the times when you’d get scolded for eating the dough uncooked. you and… her.

“happy thoughts, y/n. ohhh-kay. where are those instructions?”

you didn’t really want to do this, but you also did. and didn’t (you had serious ptsd from that incident). after being indecisive a bit longer, you decided to make the cookies. hopefully, you wouldn’t burn them this time. first, you preheated the oven.

“okay, okay, i got this.” you glanced back at the phone, just to make sure you were doing this right. grabbing a rolling pin, you flattened out the dough (tearing off one more piece, just to… just to make sure it tasted the way it should. [it did.]). you picked up a cookie cutter before pressing it into the dough, sliding it around a bit to make sure it went all the way through.

you repeated the action a few more times, and then peeled away the excess. doing the same with what was left, you stepped back and admired your work, feeling confident.

“oven time!” sliding them in, you shut the door. you picked up your phone once more, setting a timer for 15 minutes.

maybe you could trial and error it?

since you had some time, you decided to get ready. you planned on giving peter the freshly baked cookies, and you didn’t want to show up in ratty, old pajamas.

you opened your closet, humming. you weren’t planning in going outside, so perhaps you could throw on a casual dress. filing through the racks some more, you settled on a light blue dress, once with short, puffy sleeves.

it was casual, but it was cute casual. you slipped it on, putting on some light makeup and brushing your hair. by the time you were done, you thought it looked quite presentable. you grabbed a random jacket from the corner of the bed and threw it on.

you moved back into the kitchen, checking in on the cookies. sure, they seemed a little misshaped, but they looked almost like how your mother used to make them. they were a soft, golden-brown at the edges, the chips melted into soft circles of black. you put on an oven mitt and pulled them out.

hesitantly, you picked one up and took a bit of it.

“it’s… not bad? it’s not terrible.”

and it wasn’t. it tasted relatively like one’s that would be made at home. “…kind of.”

oh, well. you didn’t have anything else to give to peter, so why not?

you grabbed the tupperware and set the dessert inside carefully, trying to fit them all in (except for a few for yourself). taking a deep breath, you swung the door open, locking it behind you. actually, you weren’t sure why you locked it, you were literally walking two feet away.

“new york is getting the best of me,” you muttered. new york was also getting you to talk to yourself more often.

it was deeply off-putting.

you paced for a couple minutes outside of his door, contemplating what to say. “hey, peter. you’re hot and i wanna smash you, but i need to have some courtesy first.” you paused.

“yeah, no. what about ‘i really like you and i have the biggest crush on you, despite the fact i don’t know you at all, but i need some friends before i totally lose it and i need you.’?”

you groaned, “that’s definitely worse. y’know what? i’ll wing it. i did improv in freshman for, like, three months. i’m basically a pro. how hard can it be?”

you inhaled and, after a moment, knocked. there was some shuffling and crashing on the other side, and instinctively, you leaned into the door, pressing your ear to it. not even a second later, the door opened and you went tumbling into someone.

well, not someone.

peter.

if it weren’t for him catching you, you would’ve face-planted. his arms were around your waist, and your hands were pressed against his chest. he smelled… like peter.

it was silly to describe it like that, but he had a certain comfort.

it took you a moment to process what just happened, but once you did, you pulled away quickly. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean for that to happen at all!”

he raised an eyebrow, “i doubt you would.”

“um,” you dropped your eyes to the box, sighing in relief when it hadn’t opened when it hit the ground, “i just,” picking them up, “-here.” okay, so improv was harder than you thought.

you thrusted the cookies into his chest.

“cookies?”

“yes, uh, yeah… like a… thanks for being my neighbor?”

“i didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“oh. right. okay, how about… thanks for the jacket?”

“the one you have on currently?”

“what?” you looked down, and as soon as you did, you turned bright red. “i honestly had no clue i was even wearing this! i-i just grabbed a random one, and y’know, i didn’t look-”

“relax. it was an observation.”

“okay. uh, okay. i’ll get this washed.”

“like i said before, no biggie.”

you fiddled with your ring, pressing your lips together.

“i thought you burned the last batch.”

you looked up, “sorry?”

peter shook the box lightly, “the last batch of cookies. didn’t you burn them?” there was a ghost of a smile on his face, and you felt your heartrate pick up.

“i don’t…?”

“i could hear cursing and a buncha noise. thin walls. and… you weren’t so subtle ‘bout it last night.”

“oops. sorry.” you rubbed the back of your neck, “that was me. sorry again. really, especially if you were sleeping. i’m seriously so sorry about that.”

“it’s fine. i wasn’t sleeping.”

when you glanced at his face, you saw how he looked torn. like he really wanted to say something, but he didn’t. “uh, thanks for these.”

“of course!” you winked at him playfully, “and if you ever need anything, i’m right next door.”

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@whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fluff #angst #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #right next door part two #right next door

[ghouljams]

You asked for gaz, I’ll come running

141 witnessing luck commit Canada level war crimes, but the minute Gaz calls her pretty, love, or beckons her she’s melted into a puddle

Gaz and Luck truly a winning combination, they're so mushy and so deadly.

Gaz takes two steps to the left and Soap raises a brow. There's no need for the concern, he's set charges enough times to know the blast radius. Besides Gaz isn't usually so paranoid about explosives. It's when the other sergeant waves him over that Soap really starts getting annoyed.

Then of course the charges go off and tear clear through the floor, crumbling rubble down onto the covert of enemy operatives that had seemingly been lying in wait for them. Soap's never seen rebar spear through anyone's spine like that before, never seen such precision crush injuries either.

"You know that was gonna happen?" Soap asks him, glancing back at Gaz.

"Had a bad feeling," Gaz shrugs. He picks his way carefully around the edge of the hole, knocking out the last hanging pieces of wall from the breach. "Luck doesn't tell me what's gonna happen, just gotta trust," he explains.

"A little heads up would be appreciated." Soap grumbles.

-

Ghost tracks Gaz across rooftops, keeping him in his sights and picking off the enemies that don't have some terrible stroke of luck befall them. So far he's witnessed more guns jamming and grenades prematurely exploding than he's seen in all his years in the service. One soldier actually got knocked out by a door Gaz blew open. Another accidentally sliced his carotid trying to throw a knife.

The shadows behind Gaz swirl and latch onto boots, sticky like tar as they trip soldiers. Gaz stops short of a roof edge, waiting on something. Ghost leans his head towards his radio in preparation to tell him to get the lead out. Gaz tips his head back to look towards the sky, Ghost leave his sight to look himself. Then just as quickly trains his rifle on the helo making its way towards Gaz.

It's really a lucky shot when he hits the pilot dead between the eyes. It's a little more than lucky the way he slumps over the controls and sends the craft plummeting towards heavy artillery that had been making its way towards town. The car flips top over tip, rolling over the soldiers waiting for Gaz on the ground. When he trains his sights back on the man of the hour Gaz has already jumped down onto a cushy awning. Shadows swirl at his feet, inking his every step as he continues his dash towards point.

-

You hand Gaz another spare part from the shadows as Price surveys the field. "Be a lot easier to tell where their damn trails are if the grass wasn't so fuckin' high," Price grumbles. Gaz glances up at him, then around him to look out the window.

"Everything'll work out captain," He tells him, twisting the silencer into his rifle. You peak out the window, blink at the tall grass, doesn't seem so bad to you.

Gaz shoulders his rifle, stance wide as he looks down his sights at the grass. You see the spark of flame at the same moment he does, and knock his gun a little higher. When he fires you feel your magic click into place, the world slotting all its little coincidences into your path. The cigarette drops into the field and ignites the spare powder that was spilled by whatever bomb was being created. There's a small pop, a small hole blown in the ground, the smoldering ashes immediately catching the release of methane from the field.

Everything goes up at once with a boom. The heat wave of it hits the building you're stationed in but the blast hardly grazes you. Gaz lowers his gun, Price makes a "huh" noise, and you content yourself with staring at the smoldering remains of what previously could have been called tall grass.

"Fantastic work doll," Gaz smiles at you, settling a hand on your head. You can't stop the smile that splits your face, giggling as you drop back to the shadows to let him pack up. He doesn't let you, his hand following you into the dark to pull you back out with a grin. He kisses you quick and then you really melt, digging your claws into his tac vest to keep pulling him back in for more. "Baby," he laughs. Baby, you feel every edge soften, your claws gone as he glances at Price. "Later," Gaz promises.

-

"Your civvie is taking a shine to combat," Price breaks the strangely tense silence in the barracks.

"Steamin' hell she has," Soap agrees. Gaz tips his head, his fingers dragging up and down your arm as you cuddle close to his side. He looks down at you, the quiet way you turn the page of whatever novel you're reading.

"Seems the same to me," He tells them.

"Steam rollin' half a dozen men seems the same to you?" Ghost asks, hardly looking away from his own leisure activities.

Gaz hums, moves his arm around your shoulders to tip your head back. You meet his warm gaze and feel purrs shake loose in your chest. He's so sweet when he smiles at you, when his thumb rubs against your cheek. You drop your head against his shoulder, pupils blown wide as you stare at him.

"Pretty love," He murmurs, you could die right there and never have been happier. He looks away from you and the spell doesn't break, you cuddle a little closer, raise a hand to cup his cheek as you kiss his jaw. "Nah, same as always," He tells the rest of the 141. You can feel his pride beaming, the confidence he has in you growing with each incredulous look the rest of the team gives him.

You wonder what they were talking about, but it doesn't matter much when Gaz pulls you onto his lap and carries you to his room.

#x reader #cod x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle garrick mw2 #kyle garrick x oc #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x oc #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz modern warfare #oc: luck #demon!darlings au #they're so smitten with each other #Gaz says gaslight gatekeep girlboss #it's not gaslighting if it's obvious and also hilarious #Gaz remains the funniest motherfucker in the 141

[viintxgephrxg]

— rodan.

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley/younger!reader [gn]

genre: platonic

fandom: call of duty: modern warfare 2

summary: rodan and ghost have been partners for as long as the younger could remember, after a tragic accident that resulted in the loss of their entire team they decided to stick with the masked man permanently…. surprisingly, he wasn’t opposed to that

c/w: blood and death, depictions of violence and gore, war/militant violence, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), gender unspecified

a/n: there’s gonna be several different parts because the campaign is long as all fucking hell 😭 but i want to write out the entire thing w reader insert so.. hope you enjoy this little snippet!

—

the sun was scorching. blistering as it burned, it’s rays hot and stifling across the torrid desert plains of al mazrah, united republic of adal.

and even more stifling and oppressively warm against the back of one [y/name] [l/name]. callsign; rodan. an expert in pyrotechnics and demolitions, a ‘one hell of a shot’ sniper, and a pretty thoroughly trained medic. the callsign was their idea actually, being an avid godzilla fan growing up and having watched the entire series beginning to end at least a dozen times.

their commanding officer at the time of choosing it agreed wholeheartedly. though, his was less based on fantasy movies and more so based on [y/name]’s strange fascination with anything that is fire and demolitions. even stranger was their seemingly vast and deep knowledge of the subjects. “rodan huh? fire demon indeed ain’tcha kid?”

[y/name] swore through and through they weren’t a pyromaniac. though their partner, ghost, had a hard time believing that after a mission in peru. which not only resulted in a new scar across their face.. but also an enemy building being set ablaze and leveled to the ground at their hand. the tick that set him off about their weird love of all things fire and demolitions was their manic laughter as the building collapsed.

the callsign made sense to him now, but when he was first partnered with the kid he was set off by their strange obsession, and sharply polished fighting skills. now though, he knew the kid was —excluding their persona on the battlefield— relatively harmless.

couldn’t say the same for their incredible talent in working every last one of his nerves though—

“uuggghhhh.”

—ghost sighed under his breath, though he wouldn’t ever admit it the annoyed feeling he had was stitched with a deep and profound fondness and love for the whining sniper walking behind him.

“keep walkin’.” he grumbled.

“it’s so fucking hot,” they complained. halting for a moment to tug at the bunched up fabric of their tactical joggers creasing up their crotch.

“it’s just the fuckin’ sun kid,” ghost responded.

“well the sun is shitting all over me,” [y/name] grouched, “everything’s rubbing and pinching! i’m in need of some baby powder or something!”

“what you need is a fuckin’ muzzle.” ghost teased, though his comment was insulting his tone let the younger soldier know he was only playing.

“oh wow that was a good one,” they mocked, “it was still a good one the last seventy fucking times you used it.”

“if i’ve had to say it seventy fuckin’ times maybe it’s time to do a little self reflectin’.”

[y/name] feigned a laugh, then dropped their expression to annoyed as they glared at him from the corner of their eye. not that he could see them side-eyeing him past their black tactical goggles. or see their expression through the black tactical mask on the lower half of their face. “you’re so fucking funny. honestly, i’m in goddamn stitches over here.”

ghost let one corner of his lips pull up into a jibing smirk behind his mask, the banter between him and the pyromaniac succeeding in lightening his mood—

“i’m not havin’ a good time either but i’m not gonna whinge the entire time.”

—only slightly.

“well that’s the difference between you and me, that and i’m very good looking.”

“and humble.”

[y/name] laughed, an actual laugh spilling from their lips at his response to their arrogance. ghost spun around, having turned to face the sniper when they stopped to pull the pinching wedgie out of their ass and the pair remaining where the stood throughout the duration of their conversation. “let’s keep movin’. we’re nearly there.”

the masked man didn’t bother turning over his shoulder to make sure they were following, he knew they’d dutifully fall in step behind him as he stalked through the desert plain. and [y/name] did just that, after tugging the creases in their pants loose again.

the sniper didn’t complain much after that, finding a bit of solace in the cool shadows of the canyon they entered, and the way their tactical goggles blocked out most of the reflective light.

if they were to complain about anything other than the sheering heat and blinding sunshine, it would be the mask over the lower half of their face that was making it a touch harder to breathe. they figured ghost was well past his limits with their grousing though so they kept that little problem to themself.

they continued forward regardless, following their partner as he climbed rocks and vaulted over old and withered dead logs. until finally, they made it to their assigned checkpoint.

it was an overhanging ledge, one that had a crystal clear vantage point of the relatively large militia gathering several miles ahead and on level ground.

and that there was their assignment. an arms deal iranian terrorists were to make with russia, and the iranian’s qud’s force general; ghorbrani was due to be there. their mission was to assassinate him. with commander graves of shepherd’s ‘shadow company’ leveling the rest of the gathered militia with a short range missile.

[y/name] let ghost communicate to laswell, and everyone else on their channel that they were in position. graves responded he was ready to launch the missile when they were. with that the masked man turned to his partner at his side. “go ahead kid.”

[y/name] nodded then got down onto their stomach, inching forward in an army crawl until they could perch their rifle right at the very rim of the cliff they were on. when it was set firmly into the grooves of the sandstone they leaned forward and peered through the scope, swiveling the barrel until the crosshair aligned perfectly with general ghorbrani’s head. “set.”

ghost nodded at their word of confirmation then reached up to click the button on the radio strapped to his shoulder. “rodan is clear. launch the missile.”

“copy, sending now.”

[y/name] counted the seconds down in their head, listening in to graves’ countdown as well just to be sure they aligned the shot perfectly.

when they reached two together rodan clenched their finger and pulled the trigger, they watched through their scope as ghorbrani’s head jerked to the side with a geyser of blood before his body dropped.

the men surrounding him panicked, scrambling about and lifting their guns. and that’s all [y/name] saw before they pulled away from their scope and ducked their head into the crook of their elbow. bringing their opposite arm up to cover their head as the missile made contact.

a loud and piercing explosion erupted in their ears as the missile made contact, they felt the rush of wind from the explosive then the rumble of the earth through their gear and uniform.

when [y/name] lifted their head from the cover they saw the area had been demolished, and the smoke from the missile rolling outwards in a ring from the contact point.

“bloody fuckin’ hell,” they heard ghost mutter quickly followed with; “direct hit. target destroyed.”

[y/name] lifted themself from the ground and dusted off the front of their gear, swiping their hand quickly over their pants to get the dust collected on the fabric off.

the dust didn’t puff up in a cloud as they patted their pants though, the sandy colored dirt sticking to their joggers. they grumbled and let the rifle slide from their hands to hang at their hip before using both hands to try and pat it off. again… no avail.

[y/name] growled angrily as their patting and dusting turned aggressive to try and get rid of the shit all over their pants.

“quit fussin’ with it!” ghost growled grabbing their wrists and tugging them away from their joggers. having been watching them grow more and more irritated with the dust in their pants.

“it’s gonna annoy the hell outta me!”

“try to ignore it!”

“i can’t do that if i already know it’s there!”

“well it obviously ain’t gonna come off! just get movin’ back to extract!” he order firmly and in finality, the sniper grumbled under their breath as they spun around when he released their wrists.

ghost followed behind them as they both trekked back the way they came, walking just about a mile or two before coming upon the heli sat idle on a leveled plateau. the pilot still sat in the front with his arms folded and his head dropped forward on his chest.

[y/name] stifled their laughter at the ‘dad pose’ the pilot took to taking a nap and ghost huffed before he roughly pushed them forward. the sniper having stopped to leer humorously at the sleeping soldier. “get your ass in the damn helicopter.” he growled.

[y/name] didn’t say anything as they clambered into the chopper through the gaping door, settling relatively quick on the seat up against the wall of the chopper. they heard ghost knock on the window with his knuckle, the soldier awakening with a flinch as he turned to the source of the noise to find ghost gesturing they were ready to ship out.

the pilot nodded as he slid on a headset and flicked several switches above his head to get the helicopter going. the headphones over their ears muffled out the loud shriek of whirring blades as the bird started up.

ghost climbed in and took the seat directly across from his partner, after sliding on a headset of his own he found himself staring at them.

[y/name] didn’t pay him any mind, long since having grown used to the way he likes to observe and keenly watch everything around him.

they instead lifted their fingers to the sides of their goggles and pulled them off from over their eyes to rest on their hairline. then reaching back, loosened the tightening buckles of their mask, they held it while they tugged down the black tactical shemagh they usually layered underneath their metallic mask down to bunch up in their neck. then let the black steel mask drop to sit in the space of their neck atop of it.

ghost’s focus was immediately drawn to the scars on their face, the one spanning across the left side of their face particularly. starting thin at their hairline and thickening as it scratched over their eyebrow, eye and ended in the middle of their cheek.

then his eyes graced over the one across the right side of their lips, the small x scar on their right cheek, and then finally the medium sized one just above their right eyebrow. that was the one they obtained in peru, when one of the assailants they were fighting managed to knick them with his knife.

when they leaned their head back, closing their eyes with a sigh, ghost could just barely see the thick and jagged scar spanning across the length of the front of their neck. the scar anyone could tell was from someone slashing their throat. [y/name] still remembers that day. vividly.

and they’ve never ever spoken about it. not even to ghost. the only reason he knew the scar existed in the first place was because one day [y/name] hadn’t been wearing the black tactical shemagh they usually wear in their neck to obscure it.

and even now he barely saw it past the brim of said scarf, bunched up around their neck, the tactical mask resting in the dip of their throat obscuring it alongside.

he stared a moment longer before turning away and watching the desert plains as they sped passed. when they finally touched down in their temporary outpost, they both were quick to climb out and make their way inside.

meeting up with laswell and briefing her on how the mission went on their end. then, the pair were shocked to be told they’ve been granted a few months of leave. their station chief believing they could use the long over due off-duty time.

when they got this news neither [y/name] nor simon were too enthusiastic. they both didn’t have much, or anything at all to go home to.. there wasn’t really any reason for them to be excited to temporality be on a break from their militant careers.

what they did have was each other.. and they find solace in that and as usual ghost spent those months with the younger soldier, and as usual he was able to melt back to simon.

simon who was comfortable in [y/name]’s presence. not ghost; the cold and desensitized soldier who had an indifference to everything surrounding him. he could just be simon, the man behind the mask who felt a love like no other for the kid. the kid who had grown on him.

and he was afraid of those implications. for in his very long and very traumatic life simon had come to realize there was nothing good in this world for him. everything he’s ever had that came close to being something or someone he could love.. was incinerated and destroyed.

and he was certain the young soldier would meet the same fate.. but he couldn’t help it. they reminded him so much of himself that it made him dwell on their presence so much more.

he was a bit shocked that he had taken to them so quickly, but he was more so shocked that the sniper in turn had taken a shine to him too.

he knew very little of [y/name]’s background, only what they had told him when they first met about their trauma and nightmarish past. they, only doing so after he shared a bit about what he went through.

though, as the months and months continued to pass he found himself growing more and more attached to the younger. it was a strange thing… whenever in their presence he had felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years.

a warmth he believed with every sliver of his being had been destroyed alongside any semblance of happiness or comfort he had or would have.

but alas… there they were. [y/name].

his [y/name].

and he would do anything to keep them safe… alive.. he had to. because for once in his entire damn life..

… simon would be selfish.

—

a/n: ik it’s short as hell but i’ve a plan for this okay.. and i’m also trying to finish up the last couple chapter of ‘anpu’ so this is what we’ve got 🌝 i’ve also grown to realize i’ve a habit of not only making [reader] crazy strong and badass but also refuse to reveal any of their history ever lmaooo

#gn!reader #platonic!reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #reader insert #platonic imagine #platonic relationships

[pedrito-friskito]

Hi! I loved Fire and Whiskey and the dynamic set up there. Could I request a bodyguard!Joel x reader? Pretty please?

hi nonnie!!! oh thank you 🥺 fire and whiskey is one of my personal favourites too tbh, and I already know Joel Miller is gonna be one of my favourite pedro characters!

thank you for the request! hope you enjoy 🥰

sleepover saturday

expectations

(word count 1.9k)

It was only supposed to be a job.

That was it. An assignment. Get you from point A to point B, alive and intact, get the payout, go back to Boston. Easy. Uncomplicated. No strings attached.

He hadn’t expected you.

When Tess had first described you, he had been expecting someone meek and soft-spoken. Someone who would do as she was told and stay behind him. He certainly wasn’t expecting you, a full foot shorter than him and full of fire that seemed to burn icy hot. The mouth on you alone was enough to give Joel a run for his money.

The first stretch of the trip is hell. Absolute hell. It seems like every building you pass is crawling with clickers, the streets filled with runners. You have to go the long way around more than once, and all it does it set Joel’s teeth on edge.

At first, he can’t wait to get you where you’re going. He doesn’t ask questions, he shuts you down when you try to ask him anything. He doesn’t what to know you; he can’t know you. So he doesn’t let himself.

But then everything changes.

He can’t put his finger on it exactly, when the walls start to fall. One night, you’re curled up at the fire together, Joel taking the first watch, the pair of you sharing a blanket to stave off the chill. You’re asleep, turned away from him, curled up like a question mark, hands fisted under your chin. He finds himself watching you, leaning on his elbow, the shotgun pressed against his back.

You make a tiny noise as you roll over, and Joel stares down at you, watching your face to see if you’re awake or not. Your eyes don’t open, though your lashes flutter with dreams. After a moment, your hand flashes out, fisting in the fabric of his flannel, the buttons pressed between your knuckles. Joel flinches, hunching forward, still waiting your face as your brow pinches, lips pursed as you shuffle yourself closer to him, like you’re seeking out his body heat.

Then he hears it.

“Joel.”

That’s it, just his name, but it sounds like something else. Something he hasn’t heard in a long time.

Something like desire.

He doesn’t say anything, not when you wake the next morning with your head buried in his chest, his arm around your waist. He doesn’t mention that you said his name in your sleep; he can just imagine the way you’d stammer and protest if he even suggested it, and that’s enough.

It’s just a job, he reminds himself. But it’s half-hearted.

Another stretch of the journey, and you’re getting antsy. Things are getting more and more dangerous, it feels, and he’s glad he didn’t have to teach you to shoot; you’re a natural.

The runner comes out of nowhere, grabbing Joel by the backpack and flinging him to the floor. He goes down hard, body slamming into the pavement, before it’s on him. Clawing and shrieking, shredding the shoulder of his shirt, pushing him down so hard he can already feel the road-rash on his back.

The gunshot echoed through his ears, through the street, making birds explode from the tree line. The runner topples over, a mess of blood and gore, and Joel shoves the thing sideways, giving himself a quick once over as he gets to his feet. No bites, he’s clean.

“Are you all right?” you nearly scream, sprinting towards him, still holding the shotgun with both hands. You swing it over your shoulder as you get close, instantly reaching for him. You take his jaw in your hand, turning his head back and forth, looking him over. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, girlie,” he grumbles, grabbing your wrists, peeling your hands off of him. But he doesn’t let go of you. “Nice shooting.”

You grab at his shoulder, inspecting the shredded piece of his shirt, and then move around him, brushing the gravel from his back. It makes him wince. “We should find a place to lay low for the night,” you tell him. “I need to look at your back.”

It’s easy enough to find a place, blockading the door a few floors up in one of the apartments. By some miracle, there’s a can of peaches hiding in one of the kitchen cabinets, and you nearly cry with happiness when Joel cracks it open with his knife. You share the fruit standing at the counter, both of you sloppy with your bites, juice running down your chins. You catch sight of each other, cheeks crammed like a chipmunk, syrup on your lips, and you both just start laughing.

Once the laughter has subsided, you order him to sit and unbutton his shirt. It hurts like hell as you peel it of him, fishing some antiseptic out of one of the first aid kits. “Shit, you really hit the ground hard,” you murmur, and pull a seat up behind him. “This might not feel great.”

“Get it done, girlie,” he tells you, and reaches for the flash he’d stowed in his bag. “I’ll be fine.”

You’re gentle as all hell, and Joel has to stifle the way it lights a fire in his chest. You keep one hand on his good shoulder the whole time, your grip soft but secure. It makes him feel grounded.

You clean the worst of it once you’ve cleaned all the gravel from his skin. Joel grits his teeth, and you murmur apologies, rubbing at his shoulder as you do it.

And then, “I’m done,” you say softly, and Joel turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. “You’ll live.”

He smirks, and reaches up, covering your hand still on his shoulder. He squeezes your fingers and sees something flicker in your expression. Then you reach out with your other hand, brushing the hair from the back of his neck, and lean in, kissing the top notch of his spine, your mouth warm and soft. It sends a chill down his spine.

But the next day, it’s like nothing happened. You’re quiet, which is strange enough, and you keep your distance, a good five feet between you at almost all times. He thinks about making a joke — does he smell, or something? — but he doesn’t think it would land. So he sinks back into the silence; he’s used to it. Yes, the slight warble in your voice had made something spark in his chest, and the soft kiss to his spine had made his whole body feel like it could combust at any given moment, but he had to ignore it.

It’s just a job.

When you finally get where you’re going, you’re welcomed with open arms. They even take Joel in for the night, offering him supplies for the trip back to Boston. He doesn’t plan to stay long, deciding to leave first thing in the morning, rechecking his bags when there’s a knock at the door.

He’s not expecting you to be standing on the other side, but he’s learned well enough that you are not what he expected. He has to step back as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and leaning up against it.

“You need something, girlie?” he asks, quietly cursing himself for the nickname. It just slipped out.

“I don’t want you to go,” you say, and Joel balks.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to go,” you repeat, your voice more sure.

Joel barks a laugh, but instantly regrets the sound at the way your face falls. “We both know that’s not something I can do.”

“Why not?” you ask, and there’s a crack in your voice, something like the warble he had heard when you tended to his back. “Why can’t you stay with me?” You pause, staring down at your hands, fingers now knotted together. “Be with me.”

Joel shakes his head, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. For a moment, he can feel the ghost of the kiss you’d offered. “You don’t want me, girlie. I’m no good for you.”

You scoff, almost rolling your eyes. There you are, his spitfire girl. His. He pushes the thought aside. “Why on earth would you say that?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I got…baggage.”

You actually laugh this time. “Don’t we all?”

He starts to protest, but you reach out, curling your fingers in his flannel like you had that night in your sleep. You haul him close, and he lets you, planting one hand on the door beside your head, the other hovering around your waist, not quite sure where to land first.

“Stay with me,” you say again, and he’s so close his chest is pressed to yours now. He can feel you breathing. “Be with me. Please.”

“Girlie…”

“We don’t have to stay here,” you say, and the tip of your nose drags against his, your breath warm on his mouth. “We could go back to Boston, if that’s what you want. I don’t care.”

“After I just got you here all safe and sound?” he quips, giving you half a grin. “Dunno about that.”

“I don’t care,” you say again, and you take his face in your hands, fingers diving into his hair, swiping along the planes of his face. “I don’t care where we go.”

“G—”

His protest is lost to your mouth. You kiss him hard, rough, all teeth and tongue, making that spark he’d felt turn to a damn forest fire in one fell swoop. He gives just as good as you do, sliding both arms around you, crushing you against him. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he’s hooked on your immediately, pulling you closer. You groan into his voice, and he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, reaching down to grip your thighs, lifting you up and against him. Your legs lock around his waist, boots hooked against his lower back, and he presses you against the door, your shoulders pressed to the wood.

“I want you,” you breathe out, combing your fingers through his hair. Joel grunts, peeling you off the door again, carrying you through the room, laying you back on the bed.

It’s fast. It’s pawing at clothes, hands tracing scars, mouth meeting and parting and meeting again. You’re just undressed enough for him to move down your body, tasting your sweetness at the source, revelling in the moans he pulls from your lips. You don’t let him down there long however; it’s only a moment before you’re pulling his mouth back to yours, tasting yourself on his lips. He sinks his weight of you a moment later, bites back his own groan as you slide your hand into his boxers.

But he can’t keep quiet when he pushes inside you. It makes his eyes roll back, his forehead dropping against your collar as he moves over you, gripping your thigh as he starts to thrust. You pull him close as he rolls his hips into yours, lifting yourself to meet him.

“Please don’t go,” you breathe out as he drags his mouth along your neck. “Please, Joel.”

He nods against you, grunting as he feels you clench down on him. “I’m here, girlie,” he rasps out. “I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Something in the way you hold him close makes him think you’ll hold him to it.

He hopes you do.

#sleepover saturday #my fics #joel miller #joel miller headcanon #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic

[snoozepotato]

We’ll Be Fine -3- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns

Congratulations, I have gifted you a younger brother for this story!

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Summary: Your caught wearing an embarrassing outfit.

Part 3

~BUNNY SUIT~

Distinct knocking cuts through the droning hum of electronics, snapping you out of your trance and sending you bolting from your office.

Another round of deafening banging as you make your way to the front door. Louder this time a clear urgency on the other side. Rattling on its hinges from the force of each blow, tension builds in the back of your throat as you approach.

 Tentatively looking through the peephole to assess the situation. Eyes narrowing at the sight of your brother's distorted face through the fisheye lens, two of his ‘little’ friends from the other day stand not far behind. Opening the door without another thought, a decision you regret almost immediately.

“The fuck are you wearing?!” Bewildered words fire from your brother. For a split second you're confused by the wide-eyed stars you were receiving before it hit you.

“Oh,” letting out a soft gasp, realization taking hold as you look down, also taking in your appearance. You could have died on the spot if not for your sliver of pride.

Clad in a rather unflattering hooded white jumpsuit with built-in feet… Face nearly completely covered by a white mask which you promptly tuck under your chin. You're a sight to behold!

“Bunny suit,” you state plainly like it’s an everyday occurrence and step back into the space, avoiding eye contact.

To be fair in your current line of work it’s not uncommon to wear protective gear. Not for your own safety but to keep sensitive equipment free of particles from you and your clothes. Oh so fondly referred to as a ‘bunny suit’ by others in your field... But this wasn't normal for your current company.

An awkward pause hangs between the men left standing outside, the front door left wide open in an obvious invitation but they are all now feeling a bit uneasy.

“Started getting worried when you didn’t answer the door, I noticed you moved the spare key,” your brother calls, eventually trailing after you, the others following suit.

“Was gonna break it down,” Ghost interjects. Your brother shoots him a dirty look as if silently cursing him for telling you their plan. Luling Your head to the side to shoot the man a quick glance over your shoulder. In all honesty with how forceful they had been knocking on your door, you're surprised they didn't.

“I didn't hear the knocking at first, sorry.” You turn from the three men standing in your flat, at least they didn't just barge in this time. Even so, their ability to show up at the most inconvenient times is beyond you.

“You seem busy, whatcha up to?” Soap inquiries, shooting you a crooked smile as he settles onto a sofa in the neighboring sitting area.

Making your way into the small kitchen you remove your gloves and mask, discarding them into a nearby waste bin. Happy to be rid of the constricting gear as you take a deep breath, thinking over how to answer.

“Freelance work,” you state plainly, deliberately being as vague as possible.

“Better be nothing illegal,” grumbles your brother, plopping down next to Soap on the sofa.

“Psh, don't worry about it,” you mutter, trying to lightly laugh the comment off.

“Debug!” He snaps

Turning to face him you reach up to pull back the thin material of your hood, letting out a deep breath. Suppressing the strong urge to roll your eyes at his mistrust, instead shooting him a narrowed stare.

“Calm down, it’s not... Just recovering some paranoid guy's corrupted hard drives, I set up a clean room in my office.” you motion down at your attire. This was already more than you wanted to share on the subject.

“I was just finishing up,” pausing a moment you shift your gaze between them “Why are you here anyway?” You suddenly ask, delighted to find a way to drop the topic of your work.

“Checking on you…” The sheepish statement sounds more like a question.

“Real reason?” arm cross brow quirked, you knew better than to trust that answer.

There's a long pause before he looks over at you sheepishly, a sly smirk spreading across his face.

“Baked goods…” he mutters and you can't help but let out a soft laugh.

“Ya, I thought so, check the kitchen,” you remark, making your way across the room and down the short hall, reaching for the door across from your office. Pausing, you glance around the corner at the mountain still standing near the doorway.

“Ghost,” you projected at him, the man's attention now completely on you. Catching his intense stare for a moment, you beam.

“Make sure he shares,” cheeky words uttered as the door is pulled open and you disappear behind it.

Ghost is left standing there looking off towards where she vanished, stuck pondering that wide grin she'd just flashed him. Maybe she wasn't scared of him… Why was this a relief?

 The door to her office is left hanging open, the man's prying eyes catching a glimpse inside. One wall is dedicated to server racks, an organized chaos of cords strewn around the environment, loud humming emitting from the space. No wonder she didn't hear them knocking.

That's some serious hardware, what's going on here?

Thanks so very much for reading <3

@tallrock35

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x female reader #simon riley #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod mw x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #call of duty mw2 #x reader #female reader #cod x reader #no beta read #swear warning #swearing #slow burn #slow build

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 2

Summary: In which Cato falls for a tribute from 10.

A/n: This is on ao3 too btw. Also, sorry for the slow start I kind of want to semi-flesh out the story, but Cato comes in the next chapter.

Pt.1

____________________________________

Chapter 2 : The Train Ride

Your legs shaked up and down as you waited inside the Mayor’s building. You sat in the lounge room where all the tributes were sent to say their final words to their families. ‘This is it.’ You thought to yourself as your head spun. The room felt as if it was closing in on you as the paranoia set in. Grumbling came from your stomach and you couldn’t tell if you wanted to throw up and shit your fear away. You told yourself to keep breathing, but you were finding it harder and harder to do so. 

“Five minutes.” The peacekeeper said to your brother and father as Amaranto flung the door open. He wheeled your father in who still had that thousand yard stare. 

Scared didn’t cut how you were feeling. Emotions are unpredictable, and you were prone to outburst when you didn’t know how to handle them. Letting out a loud sob you began to bang on Amaranto’s chest, your fists landing on it surely making bruises. “YOU LIED!” Your angry weeping began, “YOU SAID I WOULD BE FINE!” Another yell. Of course it wasn’t his fault, but you needed someone to blame for the circumstances you were put in. 

“No no no, listen.” He tried calming you down, but you only flailed in his arms. “(Y/n) I SAID LISTEN!” He yelled again, but you still threw punches at the poor boy’s chest. 

“ENOUGH!” Came the bellowing voice of your Father, stopping both you and your brother. 

“(Y/n), You are not going to die out there.” Your father spoke. 

“W-what?” Your voice cracked. 

“You heard me girl. You’re not dying in that arena. You’ve got skills, just need to fine tune them and apply them to the games.” He spoke, his dark eyes fixing on yours. “Just think of them like animals.” 

Just think of them like animals.

Amaranto also looked shocked. It was his turn now to console you. 

Your body has gone limp. That rush of adrenaline was long gone and you sat on the floor confused as to what he meant by skills. You were the bottom of the barrel when it came to working in the slaughterhouse. The only reason you hadn’t been fired was because Clarabell was always there picking up your slack. 

“Papa’s right (N/n).” Amaranto spoke,  Grabbing one of your braids he sighed, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes, “You’re not dying out there. You’re gonna come home to me and Papa, and live a long life. Hell, you may even come home to a farm of your own! Just like you’ve always wanted.” He started to break down toward the end and it shattered your heart. The last time you saw Amaranto cry like this was when your mother died. 

“Pa. Amar.. I love you.” You said. Their words were sweet, filled with hope, but they couldn’t distract you from what you already knew. You would die in there, and leave the two of them poor and mourning over your dead body. 

The last three minutes were dedicated to you hugging them in silence, with the occasional “I love you” thrown in the air. Eventually your five minutes were up and you were so blinded by your tears that you couldn’t even tell that the peacekeepers were coming in. 

“WIN! (Y/n)! COME HOME! GET ROPE!” Amaranto yelled as he was forced out the room by the peacekeepers. His last words struck a memory with you. Rope. You hadn’t used one since the 6th grade. Before you could reminisce on the past, Pradian came into the room, his chicken-like top off and instead replaced with a lavender blouse. “Ready dear?” He asked with that Capitol accent. 

Wiping your tears away with your sleeves you nodded. It was difficult to walk, you were still weak from all the distress. At one point during the walk to the train you toppled over, the only thing preventing your body from meeting the floor was Buckley’s wall-like body. It was embarrassing how he had to escort you all the way to the train. 

Meanwhile Pradain kept criticizing the smell of 10, the heat of 10, and how “Those cows would look cuter in pink.” 

“He’s weird huh?” Buckley whispered into your ear trying to lighten up the mood. 

“I’m not sure that’s the right word.” You told him. 

In the distance was a sleek metallic train, it stretched for miles. As you approached the doors of the cart you would be going into, a man and woman stepped out. You recognized them as Ramsey Peckett and Dolly Gleewood, previous victors of the games. 

“I’m sorry you got picked.” Dolly said sympathetically as she wrapped her arms around you. 

“I’m Ramsey. I’ll be your mentor.” The man said as he reached to shake Buckley’s hand who was just a few inches shorter than him. 

“Alright Alright, save the chit chat for later- we’ve got to stay on schedule.” Pradain shoved his watch in the face of the two mentors causing them to roll their eyes. They lead the two of you into the train. 

It looked almost surgical. Silvery metallic colors decorated the cart, white couches were perfectly placed across from each other, the table was a dark wood- one you didn’t recognize. The only color in the room were lavender and teal flowers set in the center of the table, surrounded by lidded silver plates. 

“Go on, eat up- I know I am.” Pradain smiled, the blue on his lips making his teeth seem whiter than they were. He sat down on the table and removed the lid from one of the plates exposing the precious delicacy. It was a honey colored ham, surrounded with herbs and the prettiest tomatoes you’ve ever seen. 

Buckley didn’t hesitate, he sat himself down next to Ramsey and practically devoured a whole cantaloupe. 

“Aren’t you going to eat dear?” Dolly asked, confused as to why a starved girl like yourself wasn’t touching the lavish confectionaries in front of you. 

“I will, just don’t think I can hold it down yet.” You told her, opting to take sips from a glass filled with orange liquid. It tasted delightfully sweet yet had a nice tang to it. “What is this?” You asked her as your sips became more fervent. 

“That’s peach and mango juice.” Dolly said, cutting into her own slice of ham. 

“Calm down boy, food ain’t going nowhere.” Ramsey scolded Buckley, who was still scarfing different foods down his mouth.  He reminded you of the pigs when they would come out to eat. The way they wouldn’t leave room for air. 

“You’re gonna get yourself sick, We don’t want that now do we?” 

Buckley hesitantly stopped. He started to actually chew his food and you watched with awe as he shut his eyes enjoying the flavors of the Capitol food.

“‘S good.” The boy said, the freckles on his cheek stretching as he fit the food in them. 

“Right so then, how about we get to know each other first let's say… 15 minutes, and then we’ll move onto the actual mentoring.” Dolly spoke as she looked over to Ramsey for approval. 

“Are you both our mentors?” Came your voice, which was quiet compared to the chewing of your fellow tribute. 

“No. I’m assigned to Buck here, and you’re all Dolly’s.” Ramsey corrected. “We could join together and mentor the both of you if that's what you want, but remember only one of you is going to come back.” He said with a stress filled sigh. 

Buckley put his utensils down at that comment. Suddenly the food didn’t seem as appetizing. 

There was silence in the room. Both you and Buckley couldn’t look at each other for a while. Eventually you picked up your own fork and began to slowly fill your stomach with food. You were hesitant to try any of the meat since you knew it came from 10, and it just felt wrong for you to eat it, so you opted for just fruits and grains. 

“I’m alright with a joint mentorship if (Y/n) is.” Buckley said finally, causing both the mentors to look at him. 

You wondered why he said that. He most likely didn’t see you as a challenge. Buckley Wheaton was 6’3, muscular, and had the most honey brown hair you’ve ever seen. His whole body was littered with freckles, and his eyes matched that of his hair. You wondered what they fed that boy back in 10 to make him as much of a unit as he was now. Rice, you assumed, since that was mostly what was available. 

The mentors turned their heads to look at you now. You were in the middle of eating a berry that was colored like an angry red. “Sure.” 

“Not much of a talker.” Ramsey said, eyeing you.”Good luck getting words from that one Dolly.” He laughed. 

Dolly only smiled at you sweetly. 

“Nah, (Y/n) is such a talker.” Buckley came to your defense. “Shoot- 8th grade? She wouldn’t shut up about how she was going to write to the Capitol and ask for our horses back. She’s smart too! Top 5 in our class back when we graduated.” He told the mentors. 

Sure you weren’t on bad terms with Buckley, but you also weren’t buddy buddy with him. Your curiosity only grew as to why he was being so damn nice to you. 

“Buckley’s got strength. He’s agile too. Saw him pick up a cow once after chasing it down town for a while.” You spoke. “Rumor has it he’s got good aim too. You know, I saw him  once, when I was with my Papa, he and some of his buddies were messing around with some slingshots, tryna aim at some bean cans” You chewed some food before continuing. “And he knocked down every single can to the ground.”  

Buckley looked at you with a toothy smile. 

“Aww how cute.” Pradain cooed from where he sat.  

“So what's it like being a victor?” You turned your head to look at Dolly, whose curly hair was being tied into a bun. 

“It’s about as comfortable as it gets.” She says, “It’s great until the reality of it all sets in.” She speaks, her hazel eyes looking longingly at the table. 

“Well that’s grim.” Pradain side eyed her. “Ramsey, give me a happy answer.” He rested his chin on his hand as he turned his attention to the male victor. 

“It's got its perks. I mean for one you get a whole house to yourself… you don’t have to worry about starving anymore.” He listed. 

“How come we don’t see you around in the district?” Buckley asked, wiping a drop of food from his shirt. 

“No need to be out.” Dolly says, “The attention it attracts is a little too off putting.” 

“Yeah, the only time we ever really come out is during the night.” Ramsey says, “Of course that’s just personal preference, but like Dolly said, we have everything we need back at home.”

“Then there’s the visits to the Capitol.” Dolly says, sounding a little irritated. 

“Pft, you speak about it like it isn’t the most grand place to be. The Capitol is luxurious, filled with the most up to date technology and the highest fashion in Panem.” Pradain flaunts his nails around. 

“Enough Victor talk. Let’s get into mentoring.” Dolly gets up and excuses herself to the white couch where she waits for the rest of you. 

…

A few hours  pass by. Most of it is filled with questions on how to win the games, how to survive, how to not get caught by the careers. The mentoring is then interrupted by Pradain’s squeal of excitement. 

“We’re here!” He gets up to look over at the window. “Come! Come!” His hands go to both yours and Buck’s shoulder as he pushes you two alongside the window. You see a wall of brick before your eyes get punctured by the white light reflecting off the Capitol’s walls. 

Millions of faces painted almost like clowns fill your range of view. Buckley can’t help but burst out into laughter. You on the other hand look quite disturbed. The people on the other side, however, seemed delighted to see you. Their mouths formed into triangles as they hollered to greet you.

“Welcome to the Capitol!” Pradain says gleefully.

____________________________________

Tags: @randomgurl2326

#fanfic #xreader #the hunger games fanfiction #74th hunger games #cato hadley #marvel #reader insert #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #x cato #x marvel

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Febuwhump 2024 Day 1 — Helplessness

Time wished he’d listened to his gut.

A portal had dropped them off in Hyrule’s Hyrule that afternoon. It was a blighted land—wilted grass and trees, a dark sky, riverbeds empty of both fish and water. There wasn’t any civilization nearby, at least none that Hyrule disclosed, so the rest of the boys grumbled underneath the baking heat of the sun and slapped at mosquitos—the only thing that seemed to live in this particular section of the wasteland that was Hyrule—as Hyrule led them on towards “somewhere they could find some shelter until they figured out where they were going.” Time looked over them all, counting heads: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, himself making nine.

It had been a hard day—a hard week. Running from hordes too large and too dangerous to fight, little injuries and little arguments that piled on and on until all of the boys seemed like they’d shatter underneath them. Wild and Twilight walked apart, some spat about dinner the night before driving them away from one another. Legend hung at the back of the group, brooding over something Hyrule had said when they’d been first dropped into this world. Four seemed lost inside his head, so much so that Time had to occasionally prod at his back to keep him from going off of the trail or falling behind. Each time he just mumbled, swiped at his eyes, and corrected his course until he went off it once again. Sky’s near-permanent smile was absent from his face, and his expression was twisted into a tight frown. Even Wind and Warrior were silent, their usual banter absent from the air that seemed to drone and drone in a high-pitched whine. They'd all had a fight earlier that day, one that Time had stepped out just in time to miss, but it left the atmosphere tense and bitter.

As they walked, they were given a reprieve from the sun by dark clouds that rolled in from the south. Some of them seemed relieved; others, Legend particularly, flinched at the first frigid raindrops and the rumble of thunder in the distance. Time noted it.

“We’re close,” Hyrule promised. “Just a few more minutes out, and we can all take it easy for the night.”

“Where are we going, anyways?” Legend snapped from the back of the group. “We’ve been walking forever, and there’s still not a building in sight. Gonna park us under a tree or something? Got nothing better out here?”

“No, no.” Hyrule let out a little strained chuckle, like he was trying to play it off like a joke, but it was clear that the jab had cut him deeply. Time shot a disapproving glare at Legend, but he just rolled his eyes and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a cave ahead we can stay in while we wait for the storm to pass.”

“Cave?” some of the travelers sounded dubious.

“Yeah, just a cave, not some dungeon. I’ve stayed there many times—it’s perfectly safe, unless we run into some rogue Keese.”

Even that sounded like too much to deal with. But the rest of the boys’ protests petered off under the strengthening rain, and they trudged in miserable silence, scarves and sailcloths and cloaks held over their heads, until they reached the cave—a dark opening in a cliffside. As predicted, a few keese flew out to confront them, hissing and flapping their wings so loudly there seemed to be millions of them instead of just a few in an enclosed area. The boys dealt with them, then ducked into the dry cavern, complaining of aching joints and wet clothes as they started a fire and set down their equipment.

It was a convenient cave. Almost too convenient.

“When were you here, Hyrule?” Time asked, standing in the mouth of the cave as he did another headcount. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Good. “You know this place well?”

“Oh, just here and there,” Hyrule answered, looking up from setting out his bedroll. Time couldn’t help but notice that he and Legend had set up on opposite sides of the cave, as had Twilight and Wild, as had Warrior and Wind. Time would have to talk to each pair. But tomorrow. “It’s perfectly safe. There’s even an air draft up that a way, so if something did happen to block the opening, we can all still get out.”

If only that had been true.

That night, they all settled down to sleep, and it was peaceful for the first time in days. Unnaturally so. Time took first watch, and he sat facing the opening of the cave as his boys snored. Some of them, at least. Legend’s eyes shone from the opposite side of the cavern, and he seemed to get smaller with each concurrent flash of lighting, followed by an earth shattering peal of thunder. It was getting rough out there.

With the next rumble of thunder, Time stood and crossed to Legend’s side of the cave. The boy didn’t look up at him, so Time didn’t say anything as he lowered himself down next to him with a groan. Wind or Wild or Hyrule he could’ve broken with a simple “are you all right?” Sky or Warrior or Twilight or Four would’ve cracked under whatever horrible pun he managed to come up with in the moment. But this was Legend, so Time sat, and he waited for him to be the first to speak.

“They’re all just a bunch of kids, you know?” Legend mumbled into his knees at last.

“I know,” Time answered, because there was nothing else to say. They were, to Hylian standards, all still children.

“And I know that, and I still get surprised when they act like it. Wild was picking at Hyrule for not knowing how to read, and Wind joined in, and I just lost it on them. If you want to know what happened earlier,” Legend offered up. “Pissed Twilight off for yelling at his kid, and Warrior scolded the rest, and now everybody is mad at each other, apparently.” He buried his face into his knees, hugging his arms around his shins. “How do you do it? I just seem to treat them like they’re fully functioning human beings when they’re just little shits.”

“It’s an art.” Time said, “Doubt I would have found that balance without Malon. You know you aren’t much older than them yourself, you don’t have to be a leader.”

Legend looked like he was going to scoff and launch into some tirade about responsibility and the number of his quests, but a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the whole world cut him off. Instead he chuckled drily, dragging a hand up through his bangs. “Yeah, I guess… I just... this world and all... I'm supposed to be the hero before Hyrule... but..;”

The thunder was still rumbling, growing louder and louder, shaking the walls and the very air itself. Time and Legend looked at one another with wide eyes, realizing what was happening at the same time—an earthquake.

“Boys, get up!” Time shot to his feet, clapping his hands. Heads raised blearily, some of the travelers reached for their weapons. “We’ve gotta get out of—”

The ceiling exploded. Rocks fell down onto their fire, dust clouded the air, and everything was cast into darkness.

Screams followed Time into the darkness.

When he woke up sometime later, it was quiet, so quiet.

It was dark. For a moment, Time couldn’t tell if he’d opened his eye or not, met with such an inky blackness as he was. He blinked a few times, then, groaning, tried to raise a hand to wipe at his eyes. He couldn’t—it was stuck firmly at his side, weighed down by something pressing against his back.

Time furrowed his brow, closing his eye to think. His thoughts felt sluggish, dragging through molasses to reach him. There had been… a cave in? The boys had been situated towards the center of the cavern, sleeping soundly through even the largest peals of thunder outside. They hadn’t even been able to stand before the ceiling caved in. Legend… Legend had been just to his right, hadn’t he?

Time tried to draw a breath to call out to him, but something in his chest caught painfully, and he choked. He tried to move, but found that he couldn’t—his left side seemed to be pinned down to the floor of the cavern, and he realized then that he could feel nothing, nothing at all, on that side of his body. Not pain, not cold, not even pins and needles. The absence of half of his body unnerved him. He still had feeling in his right arm, though, and he could move it. Gasping shallowly for air, he grasped blindly with it, feeling around his surroundings blindly. Rock below him, rock to his left—had he been hit by a falling boulder? He’d still been wearing his armor, when the cave-in occurred. Had his armor protected him, and he was merely pinned? Or had the weight turned the metal of it into a weapon against him, which was why he couldn’t feel his own body? Finally, his fingers hit the soft texture fabric.

“Legend?” Time managed to draw enough breath to wheeze. There was no response. He gripped onto the fabric and pulled. “Legend!”

A hacking cough—the most blessed sound Time thought he’d ever heard—filled the air, and then that fabric pulled out of his grasp.

“Time?” Legend’s voice asked. “Time, where are you? What happened?”

“Down here.” Time shifted with a breathless groan, testing how trapped he was. Little bits of debris spilled down onto his head, clattering against the stone floor. He stopped moving before he brought whatever was holding up the rest of the cave. “I’m a bit… indisposed, at the moment.”

Legend gave a little inhale. It seemed so loud in the small place they were trapped in. “Is everyone else okay?”

Time… didn’t know. He went back in his mind to where everyone had been positioned, before the ceiling fell. Wild and Wind had been on the far side of the cave, sulking after their respective scoldings, apparently. Hyrule had been curled up near the back of the cave, his back turned to the fire. Twilight and Warrior and Sky each had been around the fire, dealing with their armor and swords. Four… he didn’t remember where Four had been. Why couldn’t he remember where Four had been.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine with himself sitting with Legend on the near side of the cave. Now reduced to two.

“GUYS!” Legend called. The sound reverberated around the tiny space they were in, making Time’s ears ring. “GUYS! Rulie? Warrior! Can anyone hear us? Are you guys okay?”

In the wake of his shout, stifling silence fell. No one called back.

“They… maybe they… got out,” Time managed to gasp out, though he didn’t believe it. It was getting harder to breath, and his side was starting to hurt now, with pins and needles so fierce that they made his teeth chatter. “Do you… do you have… have anything? A light… or… or something.”

“No, no, I don’t.” Legend sounded so small. “It was all on the other side of the cave, with the rest of my stuff. D-do you?”

“Same… same situation here… I’m afraid.” Time swallowed with difficulty. “I think… I think we’re going… going to have to wait for rescue.” The sentence left him completely out of breath, and he struggled to regain it. His own breathing seemed so loud in the small area they were trapped in.

“No, no no no no.” Time heard Legend’s breath speed up as he started to hyperventilate. “We can’t be trapped here, there must be something we can do, we have to make sure that the others are okay, if we just…”

He heard fabric shift as Legend stood, then a curse as he apparently hit the ceiling of their stone prison. Time just focused on nothing other than breathing. He could feel some sort of metallic liquid pooling in the back of his throat, and he determinedly swallowed it back down without giving it another thought.

“What if the others aren’t okay? What if they’re trapped too. What if some of them were killed? Time, we’ve gotta get out of here.” Legend paced and paced around their stone prison, growing more and more frantic. But eventually, he ran out of energy, and he collapsed back down to his starting position by Time’s head. “Are you okay? I-I can't see you.”

“I’m fine, don’t—” a wet cough interrupted him, and his mouth suddenly tasted coppery. He spat out the taste. “Don’t worry about me,” Time finished vaguely. It was a lie, they both knew it. “Just… just pinned.”

“O–okay. Time, I don’t know what to do. There has to be something that we can do, isn’t there?”

Time didn’t answer, and they didn’t speak to one another again. The silence was deafening, the air thin, the darkness all-consuming. Time was suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness to help his boys he knew must also be trapped. So he laid his head down, listening for any sign of life, and he prayed they were all right.

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #cheetowrites #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday1 #febuwhump #linked universe fanfiction

[whiskeynwriting]

also this is me requesting another daddy whiskey fic with spanking

Ask and you shall receive, my love. Especially when it comes to Daddy Whiskey.

Good for You

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

Dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation, spanking, brief hair pulling, rimming, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, rough sex 

◆

A/N: Basically porn without plot. This is filthy. You’re welcome. 

Also, this occurs promptly after the end of "What They See".

◆

Daddycember Masterlist

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◆

It’s the shove on your back that sets the mood, the force he gives causing you to stumble into the room. It’s harsh, your feet scraping across the floor, heels shuffling on the ground to kick off your flimsy shoes. He doesn’t let you turn; his hand is only off your back for two seconds so he can lock the door. And then it returns, holding firmly on your shoulder from behind, leading you forward with his strength and weight, until you’re forced over the side of the bed. 

“Don’t cover yourself up now.” He mutters, hand tugging and tearing your cover-up off your body. The limp fabric of it falls to the floor, the material of your swimsuit quickly tugged down, too. “You let everyone else see - you gonna let me see?”

He’s already spreading you open from behind, the sting of it prompting the dull ache in your core, the intense throb he can so clearly see between your cheeks. Within seconds, he’s groping you, massaging the sweet flesh of your backside while he groans. Thick and heavy, his breaths waft into the air, alongside an array of words that are so mockingly sweet.

“You’re my slutty little girl, aren’t you?” Pushing your curves together, he sighs, shuffling out of his shorts. The only reason his hands leave you is to then lift his shirt, removing every last piece of his clothing. “You let everyone see what daddy has, didn’t you, baby?” 

“Daddy,” It’s already muffled, your desperate words spoken directly into the duvet. And then he spanks you, watching your ass jiggle softly. Gripping it harshly in his hand, it makes you whine, your own fingers clawing at the bedspread. 

“Stings, don’t it?” He murmurs lowly from behind, looking up when he hears your shrill moan. Leaning down, he sucks a mark into your lower back, biting into your flesh while grumbling, “I know you like it.” 

Jack loves showing you off; it’s nothing new for the two of you. This time, though, there wasn’t someone up close to gawk at you like Frankie did at the party. No, these people didn’t get to see the real treat - the special spaces between your legs. 

Bending over your smaller frame, he fists the plump flesh of your ass with both hands, spanking you harshly again. He slaps your right cheek with his dominant hand, wanting it to sting. And it does, the quick pressure of it lighting your skin on fire and stoking the flames of your rapidly building arousal. He’s building himself up, mouth and teeth and tongue roaming your body the more he smacks your soft skin. Bruises blossom along your shoulder and neck, your sweet cries swirling in the air around him. He’s biting you, marking you, growling, “Don’t cover it up, sweet thing. Let them see how well I treat you.” 

Already, you’re breathless, from his attention and love and overwhelming affection. And it’s for you, it’s all for you. Always for you. 

“I wanna spoil you, angel.” Soft lips and bated breaths ghost over the splotches on your neck and upper back, Jack’s naked pelvis grinding into you from behind. And then he smacks you again, forcing you further up on the bed. “Wanna play with your body ‘till you’re shaking, baby.” 

Already, your skin is red and pulsing from him. Pushing back into his body, you sigh, grunting slightly. “I want that, daddy.”

Reaching forward, he grabs your hair, using it as leverage to yank your head back. “I fuckin’ know you do.” Tossing your head forward and releasing his grip on your hair, you gasp, feeling him drop to his knees behind you. 

Pulling you apart, he watches you pulse again, moaning as he witnesses the arousal twitching its way through your muscles. “Look at you flutter…” 

His pointer finger is already sliding up and down your thin, sensitive lips, pink and wet and ready for him. Left hand on your cheek, he squeezes it, blunt nails digging into the skin. It makes you wince, the painful ache soothed by the pleasurable drag of his finger sliding over your slick. The tip of it penetrates you from behind, quickly pulling it into his mouth to get a quick taste before he truly begins. 

“You know…” Your husband sighs, heavily, deeply. “I spoil this pretty little hole quite often, don’t I, honey?” Tilting his head, those dark eyes wander up your exposed crevice to land on the tight ring of muscles he’s left empty for, in his opinion, far too long. 

“Yes, daddy.” Nodding, you lift your head to take a deep breath. “Always, you always do.” 

“Hm…” Your words make him compliant. So submissive, so sweet. “Maybe I’ll pay a little more attention to this neglected one then, hm?” He offers, tongue sliding across his lower lip. 

Before you can even wonder what he’s referencing, the finger he just removed from your sex begins circling your tightest hole, your jaw dropping from the sensation of it. He’s right, he hasn’t played with you back here in weeks; it has been neglected. 

“What do you think, baby?” He hums quietly, leaning in to kiss your soft cheek. “You want daddy to satisfy you back here? Want me to play with your pretty little hole?” 

“Baby,” Your core clenches from his words coupled with the absence of him, wanting to be filled in whatever way he deems fit. “Yes, yes please. Play with me…” 

Jack fingered you back here almost every time you had sex, but when it came to licking it, he didn’t do it nearly as often as you liked. It wasn’t because he didn’t like to, it’s because he just paid attention to your pussy more. But now that the urge has hit him, it’s hit him hard. Licking your ass made him feel so desperate for you, absolutely feral for you. 

Leaning in, he lays his tongue out, licking a long, flat stripe up the valley between your cheeks. Turning his head, he bites into your plump flesh, only stopping when he hears you squeak. And then he’s grabbing your hips, pushing you forward so you’re fully resting on the bed. He situates himself on his stomach, and you stay on yours, too. He’s laying between your legs, moaning pleasurably as you spread them further, welcoming him in. 

He can’t keep himself from your pussy, though. Sucking two fingers inside his mouth, they then quickly prod at your entrance, sliding in to their last knuckle. It makes you gasp, pushing your hips back against him. And just like that, he’s shuffling forward, tongue lapping at your upper hole. He shoves his fingers into you, forcing them down to search for that beautifully sensitive spot. The hand not pulsating its fingers into you keeps you spread, kneading the beautiful flesh of your ass. 

“D-Daddy, please.” You can feel yourself shaking, lungs gasping and hips rotating into his grasp. 

“What is it, babycakes? What do you need?” His voice is thick, dripping in lust and scraping against his throat whenever he speaks. 

“Don’t stop - k-keep going. Please.” 

A guttural groan vibrates from his chest, giving your ass a quick slap with his free hand. The tip of his tongue prods at the center of your taut muscles, dipping it in as he attempts to open you up for him. 

“Don’t you love it, honey?” Your husband gasps, his humid breath hitting your skin. “Don’t you love being nasty with daddy?” 

He can barely help himself, it’s like he’s devouring you from behind, pursing his lips to suck on your hole before shoving that skillful wet muscle inside. And you feel like you can hardly move at this point, drunk off the talent of his tongue. 

“I love, I love when you lick me.” Eyes closed, you enjoy his attention, smiling breathlessly. “I love it…” 

It’s lewd, the way he puts his mouth on you, the way he uses it against you. Removing himself to take a breath, he purses his lips again, this time dripping a cool trail of spit onto your skin. And then he’s pulling his fingers out of you, rubbing your hole with the combination of his saliva and your slick. Shoving his face into the space between your cheeks, he licks into you deep, moaning wildly. 

Wiggling from the pleasure of it, your mouth hangs open, your saliva beginning to pool on the sheets. And when you writhe beneath his body, he growls, briefly baring his teeth and hauling you closer to his face. 

“Let me spread you wide, babycakes.” Sucking in a quiet huff of air, he says, “Let daddy tongue fuck your dirty little hole.” 

The tip of his tongue lines your rim as he moans, whining quietly every now and then. His fingers press into your muscles, keeping you spread so wide that it stings. 

“Sweetheart,” Swallowing thickly, he begs, “Can I finger it, baby?”

“Oh my god,” It comes out as a groan, your eyes rolling back. “Yes.” 

Not even a second passes by before he’s spitting on your crease, watching it slide down over your puckered skin. 

“Look at you,” He grunts, dragging his pointer finger along the valley between your cheeks. “Your pretty fuckin’ ass.” And then he slaps it, leaving the red aftershocks of his hand on you. 

Just barely, he pushes his finger in, only to the first knuckle. A pleasurable wave washes through your limbs, your body shivering as it releases a contented breath. And when he hears that, he smiles, your happy sound giving him all the consent he needs to push his finger the rest of the way in. 

“Daddy,” The title you’ve moaned a thousand times comes out once again, fingers digging into the blankets, eyes pinching shut as you feel the first hint of that pleasurable burn. “F-Fuck.”

“You’re doing so good, baby.” It comes out immediately, his genuine praise. Twisting it, he pulls out halfway before sliding back in. “So good for daddy, baby…” 

After a handful of pumps, he keeps his finger seated inside, dripping another long drop of saliva onto it. He watches it squeeze into your hole around the intrusion of his fingers, groaning when you clamp down on his finger.

“I know daddy doesn’t have lube, baby. I’m so sorry, angel.” Those deep, warm eyes still haven’t left your throbbing hole, not since he licked it. 

“It’s okay, daddy. It’s okay… you know I… I like when you spit.”

And that’s just what he loves to hear. 

His lips crack a half-grin, giving his head a quick shake alongside his breathlessness. The fact that Jack can do absolutely anything he wants to you astounds him. Through the good and the bad, you’ve been so loving and trusting of him, nothing has broken that and nothing ever will. Not only are you the person he’s been searching for his entire life, you’re also the person he can explore every corner of his mind with. Genuinely, what could be better? You’re a gift to him. 

“Baby - daddy, please give me your tongue again.”

“You don’t want my fingers, honey? You don’t want me to open you up?” 

“I do, I do, I just… it feels so good…”

He hesitates. Does he do what you ask of him, or does he force you to give into his own desires? 

“Please,” You whine in the silence, shoving your hips back against him. “Lick me.”

And how could he not give you what you want? How could he not give you every single damn thing you need? 

With an ardent and exaggerated sigh, he’s spreading you open again, diving between your crease. The way he’s licking you now is the exact same way he licks your pussy. His breaths are heated, his groans passionate, his movements quick and firm and fuck, you wish you could see him. His face shoved into your ass, mouthing at your crease, thrusting his tongue as deep as it’s able to go. He’s hungry, repeatedly stuffing the wet muscle into your tightest channel while grunting against your skin. 

“Love this, love tasting you like this.” And when his tongue returns, you moan, muscles tightening before him. Removing himself, he gives you a disciplinary smack, digging his teeth into your bruising flesh. “You naughty fuckin’ thing… I can feel you clenchin’ around me.” 

“W-Will you fuck me?” It’s not necessarily a beg, just a simple question. But if he asked you to beg right now, you’d do so without hesitation. 

“You want me to?” Placing a sloppy kiss on the curve of your backside, he adds, “You want daddy’s dick in your ass?”

“Fuck me.” Rolling your eyes back, you sigh, a fresh wave of euphoria rocking through your body merely from your husband’s words. 

Jack’s strong body shuffles up behind you, lifting himself to his knees. With both hands, he hauls your hips into the air, his toned chest puffing out with each intense breath. You let him move you as he pleases, practically going limp beneath him. And honestly, he likes you best this way. 

“Okay, honey…” He says, trying to calm his breaths as he talks to you. Jack wants to remain relaxed, wants to be your rock - especially during times like this. He knows this might be a bit painful for you. 

Placing his left hand on your lower back, he rubs your skin with tender swipes while lining himself up with your rear entrance. It feels so much different than the sensitive space between your legs; it’s quite a bit tighter and at times, warmer, too. He can’t wait for this. 

“Open up, pretty girl…” And his words prompt you to do just that, your body listening to him subconsciously. 

Sliding forward, his tip pushes past your relaxing muscles, jaw dropping as he watches. You keep still for him, knuckles turning white from clutching the bedsheets for so long. 

“There you go…” Jack coos, watching himself disappear inside of you. “There you go, honey, that’s so good.” 

Even when your husband let his passion and desire fuel the fire inside his body, he made sure to care for you. No matter how rough or feral he was feeling, he knows how he wants to treat you. You’re his little angel, his pretty, perfect thing. And you deserve to know it, no matter what you’re doing. 

“Beautiful…” Comes his breath of amazement, of absolute awe. 

Gritting your teeth, you take the sting, having done it so many times before. It’s easier than it used to be, but with the size of your husband… it takes a minute to accommodate him, regardless of where he is.

Quite suddenly, his chest forces out two intense breaths. Your eyes fly open, head turning back slightly as you call out to him. “Baby?”

“It’s so… tight.” He’s groaning, head dropping back. “You’re so tight back here.”

“Daddy,” Sliding your hand further up on the bed, you whine desperately, begging for him to continue. “I want it.”

“I know you do, daddy knows it, honey.” Dropping his head forward again, he keeps his hands on your ass, squeezing your flesh. “Daddy’s giving it to you.” 

Pushing forward, Jack’s eyes don’t leave you. He forces himself to watch the entirety of it, of his length sliding into you. You’re pulsing around him, muscles stretching from the intrusion. But after a minute of gentle pressure, he’s in, the curves of your ass surrounding him. 

“Jesus.” Without thinking, he slaps his hand down on your right cheek, listening to your high, surprised whine. It shoves you forward, your muscles squeezing around him from the impact. 

Leaning over your bent body, he spits, watching it drip down slowly. He does this twice, letting it coat his base and your delicate crease. Retracting himself halfway, he listens to the soft squelch his spit gives, aiding in his re-entry. Gradually, he sets his pace, listening to your little whimpers and whines. 

“Don’t hide them, baby.” Shaking his head, he gives your ass a small tap. “Don’t hide those noises from me.”

His words allow you to let go, your lungs releasing the breath you’d been holding. “Daddy.”

“There she is, there’s my girl.” He’s speaking to you so softly, so lovingly. 

Before he’s even ready for it, you start bouncing back against him. It prompts the sound of your slapping skin to fill the room, Jack’s soft attitude quickly fading. 

“You’re such a whore for it, aren’t you?”

This makes you groan, the sound airy and needy. Cementing his hands to your hips, he leans over you just a bit, now diving into you at a quicker pace. 

“I asked you a fucking question.” Reaching for your hair, he fists it, yanking your head back.

“Yes,” Gulping, you lick your lower lip, trying to look at him. “Yes, daddy.”

“Yes, what?”

“I’m a whore for it.”

“Ugh.” Tossing your head down, he releases an ungodly groan. Swatting your ass again, he then places his hand on your upper back, pushing you down on the bed. “You’re so good to me.” 

His hips are slamming against you, your compliance only riling him up. He’s throbbing inside, feeling the tight squeeze of your pulsating walls. And at this point, any and all pain has dissipated into something new, something great.

“Daddy, you feel s-so, so good.” You’re stuttering, the breath leaving your body. 

“Yeah baby,” He nods, brow beginning to sweat. “Just take it, angel. Let daddy fuck you open on his cock.”

The way he sways his hips against you makes your eyes roll back, forcing a melody of moans to leave alongside your rapid breaths.

“D-Daddy, oh my god. Fuck.” 

“Oh, I know; daddy’s fuckin’ you, oh god, he’s fuckin’ you so good, isn’t he?” 

Jack doesn’t mean to boast, but it’s like he can’t even help it. He knows the sex is good for you, knows it’s fucking amazing because it feels the exact same way for him. Christ, he’s never felt anything as good as you. And you’ve never felt anything as good as your daddy. 

“I can’t wait, sugar. I can’t wait to fuck you like this when we get home.” Your mouth hangs open as he repeatedly stuffs himself inside, feeling your ass swallow him whole. “Bend you over and lick you again, lube you up for it. I should’ve fingered you more, should’ve made you take it.” 

The fact that Jack wants to do these things to you makes your head spin. The fantasies he has about you are endlessly erotic, filthy, and quite often… extremely taboo. And everything about that excites you.

“Daddy, fuck, fuck me…” The way he’s handling you becomes rough, his fingers digging into your sides, his chest rumbling from his grunts. 

“Oh baby, I already am.” He teases, smiling breathlessly. “But that’s not what you mean, is it? You want daddy to wreck you, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Baby, p-please.” It makes you delirious when he talks to you like this, when he mocks you for the way you react to him.

Jack’s body is so strong, so sturdy behind you as he repeatedly thrusts himself into you. And with every thrust forward, he’s also guiding you back, diving in as deep as he can. 

“You’re so good, angel, so good for me. Letting daddy play with you like this…” 

“Daddy, oh my god… it feels so good…” It really shocks you how fantastic this can feel, your husband stretching and filling whatever hole he wants.

“I’ll always make it good for you, honey. Always, always.”

He’s panting behind you, bottoming out in your ass every time he fills it. And ever so slightly, you feel his forearms begin to shake, hear his grunts begin to grow heavy and ragged. 

“Are you gonna cum, daddy?” You sound so innocent, so sweet. 

He chuckles, shaking his head quickly. “You know me.” 

Using your grip on the blankets as leverage, you move to bounce back against him once again. Audibly, he becomes flustered, dropping his head. It hangs over his chest, eyes pinching shut as he reaches up to grab the back of your neck.

“H-Honey,”

“I know, daddy.” Comes your sweet coo, hips grinding back into him. “Cum for me.” 

He doesn’t know how the tables turned so easily, but all at once, he’s crumbling for you. His body weight pushes you down until your stomach and chest are pressed against the bed. His pelvis rolls into you, his body jerking from the tiny pulsations in his cock. 

It blooms warmly inside you, the feeling of him. His spend is thick, coating your insides as he breathes heavily against your skin. Jack’s mouth finds your upper back, shoulder, and neck, covering you in passionate kisses. He’s thanking you, you know it. 

By the time he’s cleaned you up, it’s the early afternoon. You could go back to the beach, but neither of you really want to. After having you like this, it’s reminded Jack of his internal possession over you. He’s not sure if he wants anyone else to see you naked ever again. 

“You okay, baby?” You’re laying on your stomach again, covered in one of Jack’s clean shirts and a pair of your panties. 

“Mhm,” Closing your eyes, you sigh contentedly. 

Jack chuckles, walking over to you now that he’s all clean. Bending over the bed, he kisses your shoulder again, murmuring, “That good, huh?” 

“Oh my god,” You groan, moaning quietly when you feel his teeth. “Yes, daddy.”

#dadddyyyyyy #I need you so bad #oh my lord #daddy whiskey #agent daddy whiskey #daddycember #daddycember 2022 #daddycember 22 #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey smut

[scarlettriot]

❄️ Keeping Warm ❄️

• Pairing: Kirishima & Devyn @bakudarling & Bakugo

• Warnings: SMUT | Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI. Aged Up Characters ((late 20s)) Dom/Sub Dynamics. Throat Grab. Drinking. Some Spit.

• Contains: Dom Kiri. Switch Baku. Oral ((M Receiving)). Cockwarming ((In Secret)). Size Difference. Praise. Very Light Deg. Nicknames Used: Babe, Baby, Cutie, Love, Good Girl & Slut.

• A/N: This fic is a part of my Winter Writing Event, specially written for @/bakudarling! I cannot thank you enough for partaking in the event, Dev! I really hope you love your Holi-Date with Ei & Kat. The event is still ongoing so if anyone else would like to participate, just follow the link.

• Word Count: 2,200ish

Katsuki had been looking forward to this vacation with the two of you for months! He stared at the dates on his calendar frequently. The little cabin on the lake during the off-season sounded perfect to him. There wouldn’t be tourists around; he could just sit in the nice, warm living room and admire the beautiful views, wrapped up in a cozy blanket with the two people he loved most in the world. 

And everything was going so well too. Eijiro drove and made damn good time despite the freshly fallen snow. Katsuki made delicious snacks for the drive. And you put on a playlist that had the three of you singing practically the whole way. 

The cabin was perfect, exactly as described in the listing he saw. The three of you got all the bags inside just as night settled in, and the snow and wind really decided to pick up. A small bead of worry grew in your husband’s chest when he looked up at the clouds turning from fluffy white to a dull gray. He shook the feeling off though. The cabin was safe and warm; even if the weather did take a turn, you’d all be fine. 

Of course, what he hadn’t accounted for was the power going out several hours later…

“Are you kidding me!” He howled louder than the wind outside while he was in the middle of putting away dishes from dinner. 

“Just give it a second, babe. Maybe it’ll come right back?” You tried to remain optimistic, but one minute passed, then two, pretty soon ten, and still no sign of it returning. 

Eijiro put a hand on his husband’s back and set the towel he’d been drying dishes with down on the counter. “I keep that little generator in the back of the jeep. We can bring in that heater on the patio–” 

“Oh! And we can build a fire! They had chopped wood by the front door!” 

“Great idea, baby!” 

You started to bundle up, but Eijiro was having no part of it. “I’ll get the generator and firewood,” He kissed your forehead, “Why don’t you go get blankets and pillows? We can make ourselves a little fort?”

“See Kat, ‘s not so bad.” Eijiro chuckled and leaned back on his elbows since sitting up straight in the fort that had been constructed wasn’t an option for the mountain of a man. 

“Kinda romantic with all the candles you lit.” You kissed Katsuki’s cheek, but he just grumbled and wrapped one of the many blankets he’d accumulated around himself even more. 

“It’s not gonna be romantic when we all end up frozen!” 

You’d made it through two rounds of Candy Land with your husbands and many games of Love Letter that somehow Katsuki always managed to win. They were two of the few games you found tucked away in the lake house. In the time you played though, the temperature had only continued to drop, and Katsuki kept getting colder and colder. 

He had three blankets to himself and was reaching for a fourth. Two over his lap, one over his shoulders. You were pretty sure he was gonna wrap this one around his head. 

“Where you goin’?” Katsuki tracked Eijiro with his eyes while the redhead clambered awkwardly out of the fort. “You’re like our main source of warmth!” 

“Then cuddle our wife if you’re so scared of freezing!” 

Both of you lost sight of where Eijiro went, but his suggestion was still a good one. Katsuki’s freed his arms from the blanket long enough to grab you and bundle you right up with him. He was sure there’d be whining from Eijiro when he came back, but for the time being, he didn’t care one bit. “So warm…” 

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck while his hands ventured under your shirt, making you jolt at the cold contact. He pressed warm kisses just under your ear and cupped your breasts like his own personal hand warmers, but it only made you wiggle and squirm even more. “If you keep movin’ around my lap like that, you’re gonna end up warming something else f’me.” 

That didn’t exactly deter you though. You just wiggled with more purpose now. “Damn it, Dev, ‘m not kiddin’.” 

“I know you’re not,” You giggled right back, and that was more than enough for him. 

He worked his hands down your body, hooking his thumbs into the band of your leggings and panties all in one go, and yanked them down, and next came his own pants. 

“Oh, fuck–” You hummed contently when he slid his length inside you, keeping you seated perfectly in his lap while he wrapped the blankets around you again. “Think Ei’s gonna know?” 

“Not if you stay quiet.” But he sure as hell wasn’t gonna make that easy for you. Not right now, at least. 

He was rolling his hips every chance he got. One of his hands snaked up your body until he had his fingers wrapped around your neck. “You can be my good little slut and stay quiet, can’t ya?” You whined and nodded your head, already rocking your hips back against him, making him smirk against your warm skin. “Atta girl.” 

The only thing that drew your attention away from what Katsuki was doing with you was the delicious smell of hot cocoa as it flooded the air, the aroma quickly making its way into the fort.  

“How the hell did he–?” Katsuki was about to poke his head out when Eijiro reappeared with three steaming mugs in hand and the proudest grin on his face. 

“To help keep the cold away,” He chuckled and passed each of you a mug with a kiss to the top of your head before settling back in the spot he claimed with his own steaming mug. 

“How?” Katuski asked before even taking a sip. 

“I didn’t just have the generator. I also had that little stove from our stakeout a couple weeks back. Plugged it in and,” He made a fancy flourish around his cup. 

You took a drink through the layer of marshmallows he put on top and tasted the chocolatey liquid, eyes going wide when the sweet liquor hit your tongue. “Babe! It’s so good!” The excited little bounce you gave made Katsuki groan. 

“That mean you like it too, Kat?” He quirked a brow and tipped his cup back again. 

“Yeah, ‘s okay.” 

Eijiro shrugged because he knew that was about the highest praise he could receive from the blonde when it came to cooking something and started to set up the game board for another round.

Of course, this game had to be the most challenging yet. The whole time, Katsuki had to stretch around you to make his moves, pushing his cock further into you. There were times you swore you bit your tongue hard enough for it to bleed just to keep a moan from spilling over. 

It took Eijiro until the game was nearly over to question what could’ve been going on. 

“Hey man, why don’t you lose one of the blankets? Dev’s face is looking all rosy.” 

You didn’t even need to look to know Katsuki started smirking like a damn cat. “That so?” He bucked his hips, and this time, you couldn’t hide the little moan. Eijiro’s garnet eyes went wide, and you got to watch as the realization hit him, and a smirk settled over his face too. 

“Awe, our perfect little wife really is keepin’ you nice and warm, huh, babe?”

“Gods, Ei, she’s doin’ such a good job…” He trails off now that the facade is shattered and he can really move inside your walls. 

Eijiro takes his time and moves the game out of the way, not wanting to lose any of the pieces (or have someone step on one). He watched as the blankets start to roll off Katsuki. The man reached a hand up and dismantled the fort so he could have you on your hands and knees and fuck you properly, all while Eijiro lowered his shorts. His heavy cock rested against his stomach before he lazily started to stroke it. 

“What about me, cutie? Can you keep me nice and warm too? With your mouth?” He beckoned you forward with a finger and groaned when you licked him from base to tip. “Shit, baby–” Your hand replaced his own, so much smaller, not even able to wrap completely around his thickest part. Sharp teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched your mouth open and stretch just to take him in and it took everything he had not to bridge his hips and push all the way in, all at once. 

Katsuki’s pace picked up, holding onto your hips and thrusting into you enough that with each rut of his hips, you took a little more of Eijiro down your throat. You felt his hand settle atop your head, threading the purple strands through his fingers, tugging you lightly back and forth while his head tipped back in sheer pleasure. 

A glob of spit trailed down your ass, and Katsuki only pulled himself free long enough to catch it with the tip of his weeping cock and add it to the mess that was becoming your cunt. He couldn’t get over the way your hole would flex, wanting him stuffed back inside so badly. 

When he did slide home again, he reached around to your lower belly and pressed down, making you try and cry out at the added pressure, but Eijiro’s cock was too far down your throat for the noise to really escape. That didn’t stop fat tears from rolling down your cheeks though. 

“What’s the matter, cutie? Too much?” Eijiro cooed and swiped away your tears while you shook your head with your mouth still full. “Such a good cock slut.” You could see his pupils blown wide just before he pushed you down on his length. “Gonna lemme fill your cunt up next, baby? Or does Kat need a load so he can quit bitchin’ about bein' cold?” 

He leaned forward and grabbed Katsuki by his chin. “Whatcha say, pretty boy?” The blonde's thrusts got a little less erratic, but you felt his cock starting to throb in your heat. “Lemme fuck you while you clean your cum outta our wife, get her nice and ready for me?” 

“Hell yes, Ei.” He breathed after a moment. You always grinned just a little when Katsuki gave in to what you and Eijiro wanted, which was honestly more often than not, but it never got old. 

You started fucking back on Katsuki, using his cock, until you felt Eijiro’s hand leave your hair and move lower. Calloused fingers went right for your clit. “That’s it, pretty girl. Gonna make him cum like that. Want both of you t’cum f’me.” He urged you on, and you could feel Katsuki’s grip on you getting tighter and tighter, bruising your hips until little sparks left his palms, singeing your skin right up until you felt that first wave of cum fill you. 

Mixed with Eijiro’s fingers and Katsuki’s twitching cock, you finished with a choked sob, mouth still full. Eijiro waited for you to start coming down again before returning his hands to your hair. “Ready for me, cutie?” You nodded, and he held your head still between strong hands, fucking up into you over and over until you had cum shooting down your throat, leaking out around both their cocks now. 

He slipped his cock from your mouth just as Katsuki collapsed onto your back, arms winding around you, which left you to wrap yours right around Eijiro. 

“Alright,” He laughed at the way the two of you tuckered out and was happy to put plans on hold, “Naps first.” 

Eijiro’s hands moved slowly, brushing through Katsuki’s soft hair and tracing the ivy of your tattoo until he too, fell asleep.

As the three of you slept, the storm finally calmed down. A fresh blanket of white snow covered every inch of the landscape. 

Light had just barely begun to show for the day, the world still cast in a blue haze, but you woke up to the sound of electricity coming back on, the whir of the furnace springing to life. Somehow, you managed to wiggle out from between the two men and walked out onto the enclosed patio with a blanket wrapped around you. 

The cabin had the most beautiful view of the frozen-over lake and the verdant trees with their snowy pillows. It was more than enough to take your breath away. 

You felt a pair of arms encircling you just a few minutes later, and, from the scars that covered their hands and arms, you knew it was Eijiro before he hooked his chin over your shoulder, kissing your cheek and whispering his usual rough, “Mornin’, love.” 

There was another pair of red eyes on you though, leaning against the doorway, taking in the scene before him that made his heart swell. He would’ve stood there for hours, watching Eijiro and you hold each other close, but when you turned your head and held out your hand with wiggling fingers wanting him to join too, it was impossible to resist. 

Coffee and breakfast and the whole rest of the day could wait. He was going to enjoy this beautiful view, wrapped up in a cozy blanket, with the two people he loves most in the whole world. 

#mha #mha fic #bnha #bnha fic #kirishima #bakugou #kirishima fic #bakugo fic #kirishima smut #bakugo smut #kiribaku x self insert #kiribaku x oc #kirishima fluff #bakugo fluff #scar’s winter event ⛄️ #event status: open ❄️

[kywaslost]

The Fire Incident - Hawks

A/N: Reader has a fire-based quirk like the phoenix bird.

Warning: panic attack

The fire was hot. The flames licked at your skin as you fought against the smoke. The filter in your uniform mask was beginning to build up soot, making it harder to breathe. Your quirk was fire-based, so you were faring better than others but that didn’t mean you weren’t suffering.

The child in your arms screamed and cried as you tried to find a way out of the building. The radio in your headset was going crazy.

The whole block is on fire!

It’s getting too hot for the search and rescue team!

Y/N is the only one still out there.

You found an open window, then pulled the child tighter to you. “I’m going to jump. Just close your eyes. You’ll be alright, I promise.” You then took off running towards the window shoulder first, shattering the glass and falling through. You were on the fourth floor, so you spread your wings to break your fall. You opened them too late, however, and you hit the ground hard. You wrapped your body around the child you were holding, rolling on the ground. You sprung to your feet and ran towards the several ambulances just a block away.

The police holding back the crowd of civilians let you through as you ran to an EMT, passing the child to him. You were then swarmed by other EMTs as they tried to check you over. You caved into yourself, trying to avoid the prying hands and voices. You were breathing harshly, fighting against yourself and the mask you were wearing.

You pushed past the EMTs, shoving their hands away from you. You ran away from the crowd, stumbling over your own feet. You made your way into an empty alleyway, sliding down the wall as you tugged at your mask.

“Hey, dove,” a voice cooed softly. “Let me help, yeah?” Gentle hands unhooked your mask and pulled it away from you, setting it off to the side. You choked out a sob, curling in on yourself. You couldn’t breathe, anxiety and panic coursing through your veins. 

“Don’t do that, honey. Keep your chest open. Here, lay down.” Hands pulled at your shoulders, guiding you to the ground. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.” The cold concrete met your back as you lay down. Your panicked gaze met Hawks’ calming one and he smiled softly. “You’re alright.” His hands rested on your shoulders as he sat down behind your head. He pressed down on your shoulders to keep your chest open.

“Breathe with me, ok? Deep, slow breaths.” You could hear Keigo’s slow breathing and tried to match it, but you struggled. It sounded as if there was something in your throat when you breathed, and it scared you. Your crying wasn’t helping, either. You tried to speak, but to no avail.

“No, no, baby bird,” Hawks cooed, rubbing circles into your shoulders with his thumbs. “Don’t try to speak. Just try to breathe. It’s ok.” Your vision slowly filled with small black dots, causing you to panic even further. “You’re gonna black out, dove. Please, try to breathe.”

Not long after he said those words, your breathing immediately slowed and your eyes closed. Hawks sighed sadly, brushing hair from your face. He began to hum a calming tune to lull you back to the real world. You were unconscious for only a minute or two before groaning lowly, drifting back to the real world. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw huge red wings hovering over you. Hawks was using them to block out the sun.

“Hey, baby,” he cooed softly. “How do you feel?”

You took in a deep breath, wincing. “M’ chest hurts,” you grumbled. “And my head.”

“It may hurt for a while,” Hawks said. “Isn’t that what you always say?” You nodded shakily. Then you slowly rolled onto your side, next, your stomach, then pushed yourself to sit up on your knees. Hawks’ arms hovered over you as you moved, ready to brace you if you began to fall over. 

“M’ dizzy,” you muttered, holding your head. When you tried to stand you fell back to the ground, and Hawks was instantly beside you.

“Take it slow,” he said. “Everyone is taken care of. It’s up to the officials now. We can relax.” He leaned against the wall, using his wings to pull you to sit beside him. “Sit here, and breathe for a moment.” His wing rested behind you, bracing you.

You slumped forward, overcome by dizziness. Keigo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you to lean against his chest. “You’re ok,” he breathed softly. “Take some deep breaths with me. Then we can get you some water.” He gently pulled your head up to rest on his shoulder. Keigo listened to your breathing, doing so with you. There was still a bit of raspiness in your breathing, but it was much better than a mere moment ago.

Your eyes were closed, but the color was returning to your face. He let you rest for a moment, then asked, “do you think you can walk? I don’t want you using your quirk to fly right now.” 

You sighed, opening your eyes. “‘Can try,” you mumbled. Hawks slowly helped you to your feet, keeping an arm at the base of your back to keep you steady. You took slow steps, then nodded. “Slowly, yeah.”

Hawks nodded. “That’s ok. We can move slow. No rush.”

It took a while, but you managed to make it to an ambulance that was further away from the crowd. The EMT gave you a blanket and a bottle of water as he did the routine hero checkup to make sure you were not injured. Hawks got looked over by the EMT’s partner beside you, keeping an eye on you the whole time.

When it was clear you were alright, Hawks was ready to take you home. He scooped you up into his arms and you wrapped yourself around him. He flew you home, and placed you down gently on the balcony of the home you two shared.

“‘M gonna shower,” you slurred slightly.

Hawks raised an eyebrow in concern. “Can you? I don’t want you to pass out again.”

You waved him off, opening the balcony door. “I’ll be ok. Won’t make it too hot.”

When you got out of the shower and into clean clothes, you flopped down onto the couch. You had dragged your weighted blanket with you, struggling to untangle it from your position. Hawks just so happened to walk into the room after his own shower, chuckling at your struggle. Keigo picked your blanket up, helping you untangle it and then laying it over you. He sat beside your head, and you moved to lay your head in his lap. His hand made its way to your hair as he brushed through it.

Keigo went to ask you if you wanted to watch tv, but when he looked down at you, he found you dead asleep in his lap. The villain attack had taken a lot out of you, and the hyperventilation attack finished you off. Hawks tugged your blanket tighter around you and then adjusted so you were more comfortable. You needed rest, and he wanted you to do so. So Keigo turned on some soft music, keeping the volume low. He used a feather to bring himself a book, and then he read silently as you slept peacefully with him on the couch.

#hawks #boku no hero academia hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x reader comfort #hawks imagines #comfort #bnha comfort #keigo #keigo takami #platonic #tw: panic attack #fire

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 5: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts

Part 8:

“Ultron knows we're coming. Odds are we'll be riding into heavy fire, and that's what we signed up for. But the people of Sokovia, they didn't. So our priority is getting them out.” “Great speech, Grandpa. Now let’s get this son of a bitch and bring Romanoff home.”

We started to clear out the city but then Banner and I took off to find Natasha. “How did you find her?” Asked Bruce as we walked through the halls of the building. “She has a defense vest that has a GPS in it that I gave her. She wasn’t that hard to find honestly,” I checked the hallway as we passed by a separate hall.

As we walked further two men were standing at the entrance we had to go in. “Stay silent for a while, yeah?” I whispered to the scientist and he nodded.

I crept closer to the guards but then I heard stumbling behind me. I checked and saw Banner’s flashlight on the floor right next to the man on the floor. The guards turned around and immediately marched towards us. “I asked you one thing,” I put my gun away quickly and the first guard was already on me. He tried to grab me by the neck but I quickly twisted his arm and turned him around, breaking the said arm. I climbed on top of his shoulder and brought him to the ground with one momentum. The other one used this second to get me in a headlock but to his luck, I could still reach my knives on each side of my thigh. Slipped the knives out and in one quick motion, I stabbed him in the neck. He lost his grip immediately and fell to the ground, right next to his buddy. Pulled the knives out of him and wiped the blood off on his jacket before putting them back in their place.

Turned around and saw Banner standing by the corner, eyes wide open, gripping his flashlight in his hands. “Make one more sound… and I’ll throw you off a bridge.”

We made our way inside and after it was clear I made sure to let Bruce know that he could speak. “Natasha!” He called out multiple times. “Bruce?” I don’t think I’ll ever be as happy to hear her say that. Bruce ran towards the voice while I just looked around the whole room.

Multiple robotic elements were around the tables, shelves, and everywhere. “Y/n, she’s here,” said Bruce, and I followed his voice. “Y/n’s here?” Wow, I don't know if that was a disappointment in her voice or a surprise. “You think he got here alone?” I walked up to her cell. From that one look she gave me I could tell she agreed that Bruce wouldn’t have gotten here without me or the Hulk. “You alright?” He asked. “Yeah.” “The team’s in the city, it’s about to light up,” said Bruce as I was trying to get a good grip on the cell door. “I don’t suppose you found a key lying around here somewhere?” And with that, the door melted off. “No keys,” I said, watching the door lying on the ground. “Yeah, we caught that,” Natasha smiled at me softly but I just looked away. “So what’s our play?” She asked. “We’re here to get you to safety,” answered Bruce. “We got her out, you think she’s gonna sit this one out?” I wandered off, looking at all the equipment Ultron had stuffed into his cave. I could hear them speak but I just really didn’t want to hear them flirt.

And then I found a blueprint. It was some type of core made of… vibranium. Set in the middle of the city, in the church. I grabbed the paper and turned around. “Guys…” Oh, but I wish I didn’t. Natasha and Bruce were kissing. Right in front of me. Does anyone have a paper bag so I can throw up?

Then Natasha pushed Banner into the hole in the middle of the room and our eyes met. She looked… sorrowful? I couldn’t tell but then the Hulk jumped back up in front of her. “Let’s finish the job.”

Flying up to the city all I could hear was Natasha screaming as she was holding onto the Hulk’s shoulder before they landed roughly on the ground. “I really hope this makes us even,” Natasha spoke to the giant who just grumbled. “Now go be a hero,” with that, he marched off.

I already started walking while she was talking to him so she ran to my side as he left. “It would’ve been a better ride if you were the pilot,” Natasha said. “It’s your boyfriend’s job to escort you around, not mine.” “Real mature,” she mumbled but damn look who’s talking. “Yeah, mature. If it wasn’t for me he would be dead now, because he couldn’t stay quiet for 1 goddamn minute. If it wasn’t for me, Clint would’ve had to send you fucking Morse codes to find you. If it wasn’t for you, maybe I wouldn’t try to tear Banner apart at every minute of the day!” I screamed at her. She looked pissed, but I was angry. “You have no right to criticize my attitude with him, because you basically called me a whore so yeah, I’m the mature one!”

She did not say a word on the way to the city. She didn’t look at me, we kept a few feet apart the whole time. Yes, we needed some place to think and be.

We tried our best to get more and more civilians to safety. It was hard to manage the panicking people but we worked efficiently. We moved further into the city and at some point we bumped into Steve and Thor.

“Romanoff,” shouted Steve and Nat ducked down as the shield hit a robot. “Thanks,” she took the shield and kept fighting. I grabbed a robot by its neck and ripped the head off with one quick motion, but then one flew straight into me. The next moment I saw Steve’s shield fly above me, taking the robot off me. Steve caught the shield with a jump and smashed another soldier.

“The next wave's gonna hit any minute. What have you got, Stark?” Asked Steve as we escorted more civilians. “Well, nothing great. Maybe a way to blow up the city. That'll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear,” we heard over comms. “That’s not a solution, that’s an escape plan,” I said. “Impact radius is getting bigger every second. We're going to have to make a choice.” “Guys, these people are going nowhere. If Stark finds a way to blow this rock…” Natasha stepped up to us. “Not 'til everyone's safe,” Steve pressured. “Everyone up here versus everyone down there? There's no math there,” Nat said, looking over the breathtaking skyline. “I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it.” “I didn't say we should leave.” Steve and I both looked at her. Is she serious? “There's worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?” Wow… have never heard her so hopeless.

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff. It's about to get better.” The famous voice of Nick Fury came through the comms before we all saw the Helicarrier edging closer to the flying city. “Nice, right? I pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty, but she'll do.” “Fury, you son of a bitch,” said Steve in disbelief. “Oooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“This is SHIELD?” Asked Pietro. “This is what SHIELD's supposed to be,” I looked at the huge flying object. “This is not so bad.” “Let's load 'em up,” I said as I went up to a group of civilians. “Sister, we could use some help in the church,” heard Thor’s voice. “On my way,” I took a step but before I could move further Natasha grabbed my arm. “You come back, alright? You come back alive,” the seriousness in her voice was so confusing to me. I bet she's gonna disappear with Banner after this, why does it matter? “I always do,” I got out of her hold and rushed to the church.

Ultron was holding Thor by his throat, while holding his other arm up, ready to blast my brother. “You think you're saving anyone? I turn that key and drop this rock a little early and it's still billions dead. Even you can't stop that,” said the tall robot. I got to Vision's side and we waited for the perfect moment to attack. “I am Thor, son of Odin, and as long as there is life in my breast, I am...running out of things to say! Are you ready?” Thor glanced behind Utron, right at us and that was our perfect timing. I flew to Thor’s side as Vision hit Ultron towards us and then he threw the hammer my way and I sent Ultron flying away for miles.

“It’s terribly well balanced,” I flipped the hammer in my hands, feeling every fiber of my body being ecstatic by being worthy of the hammer. “Well, if there's too much weight, you lose power on the swing, so.”

“I got a plan!” Dad spoke through the comms. “We're out of time. They're coming for the core,” I said. The three of us rounded the core, deafening off the few robots trying to activate it. “Avengers, time to work for a living.”

Soon the whole team started to arrive at the church. “Romanoff? You and Banner better not be playing "hide the zucchini,” as soon as I heard the words leave his mouth I wished to disappear from planet Earth. “I’m never speaking to you again,” I looked at my Dad and he just spread his arms. “Relax, Shell-head. Not all of us can fly,” said Natasha, and a couple of seconds later she walked in. “What’s the drill?” She asked. “This is the drill. If Ultron gets a hand on the core, we lose,” pointed at the core Dad. Hulk showed up too but then Ultron arrived.

“Is that the best you can do?” Thor shouted at Ultron. Who basically summoned a whole army of robots. “You had to ask,” I sighed and fixed the sleeve of my suit before we got into the real fight. “This is the best I can do. This is exactly what I wanted. All of you, against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?” “Well, like the old man said. Together.”

And without mercy, we started fighting off every single robot that tried to get to the core. All of us put in every last bit of our power to keep them away. Vision managed to push Ulton out of the church and I made sure that he stayed there. Dad and Thor also joined, and we just blasted him from four angles. Our combined forces were enough to damage his vibranium body. “You know with the benefit of hindsight…” Before he could finish, Hulk punched him hopefully out of the universe. Then the robots started to retreat. “They'll try to leave the city,” I said. “We can't let 'em, not even one. Rhodey!”

“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats, I'll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you,” Steve instructed. “What about the core?” Asked Clint. “I'll protect it. It's my job,” Wanda looked towards us and we nodded, the four of us left.

Clint, Natasha, and I found a car that we could all get to the boats faster. “I know what I need to do. The dining room! If I knock out that east wall, it'll make a nice work space for Laura, huh? Put up some baffling, she can't hear the kids running around, what do you guys think?” Clinr wondered as he was driving. “You guys always eat in the kitchen anyway,” I said from the backseat. “No one eats in a dining room,” he shrugged.

We reached the boats and then we all noticed the Hulk. “We don’t have a lot of time,” said Clint, taking a look at Natasha. “So get your asses on the boat,” she said before going off to the Hulk. I got out of the car and basically slammed the door in. “I’m gonna see if there are any civilians who need help,” I said. “Yeah, just don’t scream at anyone,” Clint shouted after me and I gracefully showed him the middle finger.

But then I saw a machine gun shooting right where Natasha just left. I sprinted towards the playground and saw Hulk screaming at the plane. “Nat?” I called out but there was no answer. I looked around for a couple more seconds before I finally found her behind a fallen slide. I dropped to my knees and looked for a pulse instantly. “Natasha?” I could feel a pretty strong pulse so I guess she just went unconscious. “Go after him,” I said to Hulk and he groaned before Running towards the plane. “We need to get out of here,” I mumbled as I picked up Natasha and flew right up to the Helicarrier.

Mid-air I could see she was gaining consciousness and she held onto my shoulders. She didn’t say a word, just let out a deep breath. We reached the boat and I placed her down gently. “Where’s Bruce?” She asked. “Went after Ultron, I’m sure he’ll be back.”

We all got settled and the team got inside. Most of us were getting our injuries patched up but I didn’t see Natasha anywhere near the medical bay, so I went to check the control room.

To my surprise she was there, holding a tablet. “Now I need you to turn this bird around, okay? We can't track you in stealth mode, so help me out. I need you t–” but she was cut off. I don’t like Banner any better.

“You should get your injuries checked out,” I said and she quickly turned her head, surprised to see me. “I’m fine,” she put the tablet down. “I wasn’t asking,” I said firmly and waited until she finally decided to come with me. “You're not my boss,” she murmured. “Yet you still listen to me.”

#gxg #black widow #black widow x stark!reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #marvel #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #y/n stark #stark!daughter #stark!reader #bruce banner #thor odinson #age of ultron #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff

[thedizzydinosaur]

@konmaao3

"Rayla, what the actual hell have you done."

It took callum longer than he'd like to clamber up the side of the icy building his best friend/girlfriend/biggest headache was currently sitting on the roof of.

Rayla was perched on the apex of the roof, a mug of mulled wine in one hand and a shit eating grin on her face. The latter was never a good sign.

In the square below them, in the center of a growing crowd of shouting people, an immense bonfire was raging. A bonfire that was not supposed to be there.

"It's cold. So I lit a fire." Rayla explained simply, patting the bit of roof next to her, inviting him to sit next to her. "Turns out those stupid gossip magazines make for brilliant kindling."

Callum grumbled to himself, and plopped down next to her.

The two of them were in the middle of a sneaky winter's get-away to delbar, to get away from their responsibilities for a week or two, and so they could attend one of the many story teller's festivals that went on at this time of year.

But, thanks to some eagle eyed sod with a camera, the papers, tabloids and gossip magazines on both sides of the border now knew they were here, and Rayla was pissed.

And drunk.

And apparently had decided that arson was a brilliant form of protest.

"You realise that no one at the daily herald is gonna be happy that you set the yule deer outside their offices on fire, right?" Callum swiped the mug from her hand to take a sip.

"Thought you said they get set on fire anyway." Rayla protested, pouteding in an adorable way that usually won him over

"In the new year, rayla, it's considered bad luck to burn it beforehand."

"Oh."

They sat together and watched the as the straw and timber deer finally collapsed under its own wight into the fire, sending embers and shouts skywards.

"I mean, I'm not saying that they don't deserve some bad luck for some of the shit they write, but I think, juuust think, that we should head back to the hotel and pretend we were never here." Callum handed rayla back her mug.

"Unless you wanna tell the guards that are turning up in force what you did?"

Rayla drained her mug in one go, shrugged, and bolted off in the direction of where they were staying.

Callum rolled his eyes at her retreating back, summoned his mage wings and took off after her.

#the dragon prince #fanfiction #tdp callum #tdp rayla #yule deer=yule goat but different #no they were not caught #but opeli still found out *somehow *

[cosmica-galaxy]

DOORS - Prey with the raincoat - Part 1

Relationships: None Type: READER INSERT Words: 4,478

- - - - -

What rotten luck. Out of all nights, why did it have to be this one that your car decided to quit on you? It started out like a typical night. You were just making a quick run to get some snacks after getting off work and your car had suddenly decided to putter out and die on you in the middle of nowhere…during a heavy downpour…at night. Which meant no repairman was coming to your aid until dawn and you were all alone until then. It was a rather strange occurrence…since your car has always run fine and you rarely had any problems…until tonight. You quietly grumble to yourself as you hug your raincoat tighter to your trembling form, your small bag of snacks and drinks gripped tightly in one of your hands. The pouring rain soaks you to your bones as you trudge through the relentless downpour. The raincoat barely does anything to help keep you from getting wet or chilly from the torrential gale that rips past your form. Yet, you continue regardless. You drag your feet along the wet mud and soaked concrete, struggling to keep yourself from slipping and falling over as you continue to walk up the staircase towards your hopeful salvation. Your eyes glance up as you look up to a rather nice looking hotel, perched high up just on the hilltop. The same hilltop your car just happened to break down at the bottom of. Hopefully the hotel would be a comfortable place to stay while you wait out the rainy night and maybe they would even have a phone you could use! Since your phone was pretty much dead, and probably ruined from getting wet, it was your only limited option of being able to reach a repairman in the morning. Until then, you would have a nice place to sleep and keep warm on this chilly winter night. You noticed something strange, however. 

There was no sign advertising the hotel…or…even if it was a hotel. This might just be some random person’s house or mansion for all you knew…even if they called the cops, hopefully you would still get some help. You just couldn’t sit in your car all night doing nothing. You already went through an exhausting road trip, so you just really wanted to go home. Besides, you would rather explain yourself to some cops than quietly freeze to death in your car overnight. Upon reaching the top of the hill, you carefully approach a pair of large wooden double doors. Despite the illuminated interior and welcoming atmosphere of the supposed ‘hotel’, you pause.

There was just…something about this building…it was giving you a bad feeling in your gut. But…where else could you go? What choice did you really have? You were already soaking wet, your car couldn’t go anywhere, and you had no method of communication. You didn’t really have a choice and you certainly weren’t gonna sit in your car now that you were all wet… So you push the feeling down and decide to enter the building. With a handle gripped in each hand, you pop the latch. They open with a resistant creak as you open it just wide enough to peek your head inside. It was…strange for it to not be locked…but the moment you stepped inside, you seem to realize why. So…it was a hotel. There was a desk with a key rack behind it, some comfy chairs in the waiting area, fancy paintings decorating the wall, and it even had a lit fireplace! You wasted no time in walking inside once you finished your brief visual inspection, allowing the large doors to slam shut behind you. You quickly wiped off your feet on the welcome mat and hurried over to where the fire was, eager to get rid of your lingering chill. You slip your soaked raincoat off and lay it on the ground near the fireplace to dry as you let out a brief shudder and rub your arms in an effort to chase off the remaining chill from the rain. You eye the cozy chairs that surround the fireplace and you shiver a bit as you take a moment to sit down in one to gather up your energy. Setting your bags of goodies down next to the seat, you let out a sigh of relief. At least you were safe, warm, and out of the freezing rain. You take a second to look around your surroundings, taking in the fancy-looking atmosphere that made up the hotel. With its wooden floors, elegant wallpaper, wooden furniture, and fancy paintings, you silently guess it was of a much more ‘upper class’ hotel. Thankfully, you’ll only be here for one night. So the money they would ask for shouldn’t hurt you TOO bad. Speaking of which…where was the clerk? Shouldn’t they have come back by now?

Your curiosity is suddenly piqued as you sit for a few more moments before getting up.

You approach the desk with growing confusion as you look around to see if there were any doors that led to the back or staff rooms…but you see none. You continue to gaze around and then you finally take notice of the desk bell. You silently figure that you would have to ring that to get service. So, you gently ring it. There was only silence that followed afterward, so you ring it again. Expecting someone to come and provide you with some service. But nobody came. “Hello??” You call out into the lobby, waiting for a reply. Again, you were met with silence. You look around in a confused manner before checking for any notes that may be laying around, but once more, you find nothing. Then, your eyes catch something interesting. In the back of the lobby, you see them. Elevators. There are two of them and they both seemed to be operating as one was simply sitting open. Your curiosity only grows, but you don't want to get into trouble by wandering around the hotel without consulting the clerk for a room to sleep in for the night… But…maybe you could go looking for the clerk? That wouldn’t be too bad to explain if you got caught walking around the hotel, right? You decided to think about it for a few minutes as you sit down by the fire once again to warm up and dry off before you make your next move. A moment of idleness passes and you finally decide to stand up, gather up your coat and goodies, and go looking for the clerk yourself. What could they possibly be doing that requires them to stay away from their desk for this long?? So you begin to head towards the elevators. It was rather eerie how one elevator was staying open no matter what…so you decided to walk inside of it. Then…that looming feeling of dread comes crawling back as you observe the buttons that lead to the lower floors. Correction…the single button that led to a lower floor. There were no numbers or designated floors for maintenance and staff…just a downward pointing arrow. You cast your gaze back to the lobby, seeing the large double doors so far away and the heavy rain still pouring down outside. A little feeling in your body was telling you–no–BEGGING you to get out of the elevator and run, but you merely stood there in confusion before brushing it off.

You were just nervous about going into the hotel without permission, it’s okay. No need to panic. So you merely push the downward button…and the dread only grows worse as the door to the elevator closes and it begins to descend. Your worries only amplify once you take notice of just how LONG the elevator is taking to reach the ‘second floor’. Suddenly, the elevator jerks. Sending your heart straight into your throat as it grinds against something in the shaft before continuing on, the light flickering for a moment before everything becomes stable again. Your heart thunders as the elevator music doesn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten into the elevator…maybe you should’ve listened to your instincts… Something just kept feeling more…WRONG the deeper into the hotel you go. Then much to your surprise, the elevator finally stops and the door opens. Revealing a much smaller version of the room from before. There were paintings, a fireplace, tables, a desk with a bell, and a key rack. You step out of the elevator, completely ignoring how the doors suddenly close behind you without your input. Instead, the first thing you take notice of is the presence of windows.

Didn’t you just go DOWN into the hotel?? How were there windows here?? Despite your growing confusion, you refocus on the desk in the center of the room. Once more, you walk up to the desk and ring the bell. Similar to the main lobby, you get no response and you begin to ring the bell over and over in frustration. Only pausing when the bell actually BREAKS and you silently step away to avoid getting blamed for it. Upon looking around, everything in the room looked the same as before. However, you now take notice of the single door that displays ‘001’ on it. You see that it has a lock and with a brief look around, you see the key to said door hanging on the key rack. You, growing more impatient and worried, crawl through the baggage carriage that blocked the way behind the desk, and snatch the key from its place on the wall. You crawl back through and make it to the door and with a little bit of fiddling, the door suddenly swings open. Revealing a short hallway that leads to room ‘002’. You blink in surprise and the feeling of dread suddenly amplifies as you take a look back at the elevator, looking to see if you could go back. Finding the elevator door closed tightly and noticing the lack of call buttons. Suddenly…you feel as if you were in danger. It takes a bit for you to gain the courage to move on in the hotel, but door after door, the hotel only grows more and more strange. So much so, that it begins to feel like you were having a fever dream. There were numerous doors that were broken or blocked off by wooden planks, stairwells that didn’t lead to upper or lower floors, the layouts stopped making sense entirely, and there was a constant feeling of being watched and looming danger skulking about. Then, you have your first encounter. Upon opening door ‘014’, you take notice of how the lights flicker as you enter. Then, the sense of fear inside of you suddenly spikes as your heart begins to race. At first, you didn’t know why. Then… You hear it. Something was coming from somewhere behind you. Loud, bellowing, and quickly approaching. Deep within yourself, you could feel something urging you to HIDE!

You sink down into pure instincts and look around the room in a panic.You take notice of a wardrobe that was sitting off to the side and the same feeling inside of you tells you to hurry and hide inside of it! You sprint over and swing open the doors, finding the closet surprisingly empty. Without hesitation, you throw yourself into the closet and shut it quickly, listening as the noise grows louder and louder. Then, through the crack in the closet, you see it. A large being with a gray smiling face and a shadowy body races past your hiding place quickly. Bellowing loudly and shattering all the light fixtures that it passes. You even cover your ears as the beast charges past, its large toothy mouth agape, letting out its loud roar, and tearing through the room ahead of it recklessly. Then just as quickly as it arrived, it vanished like it wasn’t even there. Your heart was still thundering loudly in your chest as you struggled to process what just flew by your hiding place. Even worse, you swear that the darkness inside of the closet was moving and your heart rate grew even more rapid as you swore something was touching you and whispering ‘get out’ into your ears. In response, you bolt from the closet and out into the darkened room. With a quick few stumbles, you enter the illuminated room ‘015’ and collapse to the floor in shock. Your heart thundering in your ribcage and your eyes flicking about as you hold onto your bag of snacks like your life depended on it. What the FUCK was happening?!? What was that thing that flew by the closet?? What was that thing IN the closet?!! Why wasn’t this hotel making sense ANYMORE?!! You take rapid breaths to try and calm your heartbeat, but it did very little to help. You simply lay there on your back, panting and trying to regain your breath from your close encounter with death. After a few minutes, you manage to calm down just enough to finally stand back up and continue on your unwilling journey. Moving on through room ‘015’ to continue on through the endless rooms. You managed to discover a few interesting rooms, namely a painting room that involved a puzzle, multiple styles of studies, large rooms with numerous bedrooms in them, long hallways, and rooms with numerous closets or toppled bookshelves. In these numerous rooms, you even managed to find a lighter in a drawer. You also had more encounters with that large screaming shadow demon. Each encounter is as terrifying as the last as you hide in a closet and watch it rush past, screaming and tearing through the room with its large teeth. Until in one particular room. The moment you open door ‘023’ you are met with darkness. You pause at the entrance, looking into the darkened room in surprise as you blink. Worry eats at you from within, as you swear you can feel a presence lurking around in the dark from where you stand. Squinting a bit, you take notice of a locked door further into the room and a door off to the side. Great…it was locked and it was an office-type of room. Just judging on the familiarity of the layout. You take another moment to gather your courage and pull out the lighter you found. Upon flicking it to life, you walk into the inky black room, taking notice at how it seemed…darker than usual. Your light barely did anything to keep the darkness at bay as you walked along the wall and felt for the door to the office.

You feel the handle and turn it, opening the door to a cluttered office space that looked like someone was just moving in. Boxes, a bed, numerous unmarked crates, and a desk off to the side. Along with those ever present windows with the raining downpour still continuing outside. You quickly stride over to the desk and begin to search the drawers. Nothing notably interesting, except you managed to find some lockpicks. The key wasn’t here. You grumble a bit and then, much to your surprise, you sense something around you… “Psst.” You jump and look around rapidly and once your gaze lands on a floating inky-looking disembodied head with tendrils, glowing white eyes, and a wide toothy grin, you let out a loud scream. The creature does the same thing, except its screech is louder and piercing. Which made you visibly flinch and recoil in response to the sheer octave that the little being reached. Then, it rapidly disappears back into the darkness of the room. Your heartbeat thunders in your chest after the encounter and you try to snap out of it. You needed to get OUT of this dark room, now ! 

So you searched and searched, looking for the key. You even had to put out your lighter to prevent it from burning out on you too quickly. So now you were working in complete darkness with that thing lurking around you. Then, surprisingly…something in the room began to glow an eerie blue. 

From a ways away, you take notice of a glowing key that was laying upon the ground. You hurry over to the luminous key, not really questioning at the moment how it was glowing, before hurrying out of the office. Even more interesting, the door itself was glowing that same eerie blue. With shimmering sparkles and a radiant aura that emitted from it. So you waste no time and head over to the door, the light providing you enough visibility to slip the key into the slot and pop the lock. The door to ‘024’ opens and you rush out of the dark room, doing a quick check around yourself to make sure that whatever that thing was didn’t follow you out into the light. Once in “safety”, you take a look back towards the door that you just came through. Seeing the sparkling blue light slowly fading away from the door until it was no more. Strangely enough…that light felt comforting. 

It did help you after all…maybe whatever was causing those glows was…good? Benevolent, even? You just hoped that you had at least SOMETHING to rely on while you traverse this hellscape of a hotel. And so…you continue on through the rooms. Most of the rooms through 025 to 029 were uneventful. You just have another heartstopping encounter with the large rushing shadow monster in room 028, which you easily survived. However…when you enter room ‘030’, you encounter another monster. You are taken off guard when you hear a rather peculiar sound and suddenly something appears in front of you. A mass of eyes radiating a bright blue light appears in the middle of the room. At first, you thought it must’ve been the being that was guiding you through those dark rooms, but upon looking at it, you see its numerous pupils flash and multiple cuts begin to get slashed upon your body from seemingly nowhere. You flinch and fall down from the sudden pain, looking away from it as it hisses in agitation. You thought you were going to die, but as you lay there, the creature remained dormant. Not attacking you after you looked away from it. Taking this knowledge in hand, you regain your composure, pick up your stuff, and finally yourself up off the floor. Keeping your gaze away from the cluster of eyes glaring at you. You slink around it and manage to get to the next door.

Upon opening door ‘031’, the sound and light from behind you suddenly fades away. Looking back, you see nothing there. The eyes were gone…yet the cuts still remained. 

You wince as you look around the room, finding it to be another multiple bedroom section of this madness-inducing hotel. Maybe you would be able to find something to help heal these injuries…so you began to look around. For the next few rooms, you managed to scrounge up a couple of bandages to help patch your injuries. For the rest of rooms ‘031’ to ‘034’, were primarily uneventful. Except with one small dark hallway and another visit from that shadowy smiling creature that tore through the rooms at the speed of sound.

But upon entering ‘035’, you take a moment to pause as a brief moment of panic goes through you when you see the lights in the room flicker. Instinctively, you run and hide in a closet. 

But after a few minutes…you were met with silence. Trying to ignore the lingering sense of something in the closet with you, you wait a little longer than required just to be sure that the shadowy entity wasn’t on the way over. 

After a few moments, you hurried to step out of the closet once you felt the presence within growing much more touchy-feely. When it began whispering into your ear in a hostile manner, you knew you had no other choice but to leave.

Upon looking around the room, you see no signs of that quick shadow demon. No distant roar. No flickering lights. Just silence. You figured that it must’ve been just the ambiance…until you felt something watching you. You take a closer look around the room, then you freeze in place when you see it. An eye. An eye was poking out of the wall from a black dripping mass that looked like a wound. The large singular pupil focused on you as you cautiously walked around it. Upon moving on to room ‘036’, you see the lights flicker again, but more eyes appear. It was a short hallway and the eyes, two of them, each watched you move from one end of the hall to the other, and you couldn’t fathom the feeling of dread that was starting to build up in your body.

Entering room ‘037’ and ‘038’ each had a similar experience. Except the eyes were practically everywhere by the last room. All watching you move about and do whatever you need to do. The chills you were getting were unreal and the paranoia you were experiencing was unlike anything you have ever experienced before.

Something BIG was coming. You felt it. The dread, the panic, the fear…you silently wonder if the eyes could sense it as well. But upon opening up door ‘039’. You find the place remarkably lit and free from those eye-like entities. It was just a long hallway. No closets, drawers, or tables to be found. Just more of those windows that you couldn’t see out of and more of the ever-present pouring rain. Still, that feeling of dread wouldn’t leave your body. You clutch your snack bag as close to your body as possible, squishing it into your raincoat, as you walk further into the hallway. As you drew closer to the end of the hall, you thought that it was just another typical hallway, like the ones before. Oh how wrong you were.

The sound of the floorboards creaking loudly behind you makes your head turn rapidly towards the source of the disturbance. Your heart stops as you see a pool of that black substance from before start to build up more and more until you see two “hands” emerge from it. A head then emerges and a single eye slips onto the “head” of the creature, with a few agitated pulls, tendrils of slime pop off of its form as the excess sinks back into the floor and the humanoid form is released. 

The singular eye locks onto your terrified form and it lets out a distorted screech before it PHYSICALLY STARTS TO RUN AFTER YOU. You quickly turn around and bolt away from it into the next room. You scream bloody murder as you hear the loud thumping of footfalls from behind you and the walls being covered with eyes and an ominous red light. Your heart thunders inside of your chest and your legs are burning from the exertion. You break through another door and then you see furniture move on its own to block your path! You were about to panic until your eyes caught a quick glimpse of a familiar flurry of sparkles guiding you towards a hole in the blockage. To which you scurry through with reckless abandon. It isn't long until another attempted blockage is placed in your path, but with the mysterious light guiding you, you hurry through without a moment of hesitation.

You find yourself running through halls, each with barricades of furniture and ruined doors. But with only one door that would allow you through. The thundering footfalls from behind you almost sounded like they were closing in as you bolt through the halls to flee from the creature chasing you. Then upon flinging open the door to door ‘046’, the scene before you is nothing short of horrifying. A once grand hallway is turned into a war zone and large shadowy hands break through the elegant windows upon your entrance, reaching out around their limited space. The chandeliers that once hung from the ceiling now are nothing but a ball of fire on the ground. You couldn’t even take a moment to stop and think as you run about the room. Dodging fire, clasping massive hands, and the entity still hot on your tail from behind. You could see the open door in the distance and you almost feel a sense of relief. Possibly sensing your happiness, you hear the creature behind you let out a shriek of defiance as you sidestep the last large hand that tried reaching for you.

The moment you pass through the door, you slam into the wall of the next room. You pant desperately for breath as you turn around and let out a shrill scream, seeing the shadowy one-eyed entity running straight for you from the hallway.

SLAM! You jump out of your skin as the door that separated you both is suddenly slammed shut by a familiar shower of sparkles. The creature on the other side lets out a roar of frustration as it beats on the door. You lay there for a moment, not expecting the door to hold it back. But after a moment, the banging suddenly stops…and the dread you feel passes. Then, silence fills the room. Your desperate breaths are the only thing present in the room as you lay there and try to force yourself to calm down. That was too close. This place…what WAS this place?? How were there so many monsters in this building?! You…you could’ve died! Who knows what that thing would’ve done to you if it caught you! You lay there for a moment, clenching your bag of snacks for comfort as you struggle to calm down. A few seconds turns to minutes and you finally feel your heart rate dropping back to a normal pulse. A few more minutes pass and you regain the strength to get up and off the floor to continue on your journey. You look at the next door, seeing that it reads ‘048’.

Entering it, you find nothing but another short hallway. You easily pass through it, but upon entering ‘049’, you suddenly see what looks like to be the entrance to a grand study. There were a few bookshelves, a desk, a globe, numerous ruined books, and a large elegant entryway that read ‘050’ above it. You were about to think that the whole nightmare was over and that you were about to find the exit. Until you heard a very ominous reverberating growl come from the other side of the door. You could only gulp and tremble in fear while standing in front of the large door in question. It seems like your journey through this hellish hotel isn't over quite yet…

You just hope that you get out of here alive.

#haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #My writing #roblox doors #doors roblox #fanfiction #prey with the raincoat #long post