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oliviajdjarin · 5 months

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Din Djarin: Come and Get Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.

Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.

A/N: happy dincember my people :)

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

(gif credit to pinterest)

“Why are droids always so angry?”

A deep sigh arose through your comlink.

“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”

Silence.

“You’re holding back your laughter.”

“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.

“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”

“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.

“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”

“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.

“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.

Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.

They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.

In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”

You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.

That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.

“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”

You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”

“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”

Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.

“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.

And here you were.

The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.

“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”

You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.

Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.

“Hey, Din,” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.

“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”

“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”

“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”

His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.

“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”

“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.

You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.

“Are we focused, Y/N?”

“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”

Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”

“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”

“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”

“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?

And why did you keep noticing?

You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…

…a music box.

“Bingo,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.”

“Very original.”

“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.

Din laughed too. He understood immediately.

You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.

“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.

“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”

As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.

You were suddenly unmoving.

“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”

The box fell from your grip.

“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”

“What’s going on?”

You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.

It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.

“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.

“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.

You could never pasts their tests. Never.

“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”

His tone was unconvincing.

“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”

“You’ve gotta find a way out.”

“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”

“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”

You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.

“I-I found one.”

“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”

You sobbed once more. “How?”

“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”

You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.

You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.

Din didn’t respond.

You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.

Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.

You grunted, falling back into the room.

“You get it?” Din asked, panting.

“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good. Now stand up.”

You did.

“Walk to the window.”

You did.

“And jump.”

“What?”

“Jump now.”

It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.

You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.

A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.

You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.

You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.

You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.

“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”

Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.

“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”

You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

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chazzielynx · 1 month

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Some Random Listener Headcanons I Wrote Down Part One

- Darlin likes cuddling in close and making Sam play a little with his powers while doing it. A little flame or sth like that. They like it because they can feel the dim light of his core that way. (Extra angsty points = they do that bc they can't bridge with him)

- Starlight didn't like the name 'Starlight' at first because they love astronomy and didn't think they deserved that title. But Avior was stubborn and the more he uses it, the more they melt at him saying it.

- Freelancer loves being in the sun but their eyes are sensitive to light. Until they met Gavin, they used to wear sunglasses a lot, but now Gavin eases their light sensitivity with magic when they're out on a walk. They didn't notice him doing it at first but he had to confess it to them when they wanted to go on another hike with Huxley and thought they didn't need to take their sunglasses (He has to actively control it).

- Sweetheart has stomach issues because of the stress at work. When they told Milo, he started learning more about what kind of foods can help with that and integrated them into the meals he cooked on date nights.

- before Lovely was turned, they used to love late night drives in general but then also with Vincent. Now they're used to them so much they forgot about the love they had for city lights at night.

- Darlin (yes, again, leave me alone) drinks tea. They never really tell anyone that bc it doesn't really fit their image but Sam found their collection when he was looking for anything edible in their kitchen again. They like Scottish Breakfast and Sam learned how they make it so that he can make them a cup of it when he's drinking his coffee.

- Baabe reads romance books, all kinds, also spicy ones and Asher loves stealing their book when they gasp at the pages and reading the spicy scenes to try them out later.

- staying with the book theme: Coworker reads High Fantasy and goes on rants just like Lasko and he loves nothing more than having his head in their lap, letting them play with his hair absent-mindedly and listens to everything they tell him.

- Asset constantly argues with James about why they can't have tattoos. One of their technicians had some and they asked about it and now they genuinely don't understand why they can't also have tattoos (this one might be a little bit of a stretch but I think it's cute).

- Honey knits (possibly also crochet). Guy likes to mess with them when they count stitches but he only does that when their project isn't that complicated or important. He proudly wears every single sock they make him and always asks for more "Honey, can I get one that says 'i am the best boyfriend ever but all I got were these lousy socks?'" followed by a pillow thrown at his head.

- Baby (Ollie's Listener) loves fairy lights. They hang them up everywhere all year round. Ollie had to set the rule in place that they aren't allowed to put up more without defending their case in front of a judge (which is Ollie and their cat).

- Bestie loves dyeing their hair on a regular basis. Not in the impulsive way, they genuinely just love looking different every two weeks and combining colours.

- Smartass likes to sing. It took them a while to be comfortable singing in front of Aaron. Once, they hadn't heard him come home and he listened to them sing in the kitchen while he just sat in the hallway. They almost tripped over him. Now he sometimes asks them to sing sth when he's holding them bc he loves hearing and feeling them sing.

#the brain rot is real #this is way too long #and I'm not even done #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redactedaudio #headcanons

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mrzombielover · 2 months

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- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

#!my stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #ok how do i tag this…#first man adam #first man adam x reader #idfk idc #!not sfw #female reader #this is like so cringe LMFAO #it’s ok tho idc😜

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brewed-pangolin · 4 months

Note

Inspired by your thoughts on tea, since we know Soap makes fun of Ghost during the Alone mission for asking for a cuppa... do you think Soap would make tea for his wife? Tease her about it but always make sure her favored brand is in the pantry?

Umm...I might have gone a little overboard with this. Oopsies. (But I loved it so much!!)

Johnny would absolutely tease his love for your certain affection and acquired tastes towards tea.

Always muttering little quips under his breath as you meticulously scrutinize the herbal tea aisle of the grocery store for the better part of half an hour.

"Steamin Jesus, gonnae be growin' roots inta th'floor if this takes any longer."

You roll your eyes at him. Too lost in mulling over whether to go with the tried and true chamomile tea bags you've been using for years, or venture out and take a chance on the loose tea you've been reading so much about.

You decide, after much internal deliberation, to go with both.

Once at the checkout lane, you survey the ever growing line of products and can't help but notice that two of your newly cherished items seemed to have miraculously disappeared.

"What's th' bloody difference?" Soap's sudden interjection pulls your eyes towards him. Holding both boxes in his hands, eyes shifting back and forth to give each parcel a quick yet thorough inspection.

"Th's ones tea in a bag. And th's ones loose. So what, ones caged and th'others free range?"

"It's basic chemistry, smartass," you snap back. Snatching both boxes out of his hands, adding them back to the line along the grocery belt.

"You should know something about that, Soap. Being a demolitions expert and all."

"Aye, I am. Rarely havin' to deal wit botanicals though, sweetheart."

An amused sigh escapes your lips, shaking your head as you point to each box and explain in lamens' terms the difference to the ill educated Scot.

"Tea bags are good for quick steaps, inexpensive and easily accessible. But they also grow bitter quickly, are only good for one-time use, and generally have one dominant aromatic note."

You give him pause, narrowing your eyes and gander whether he's understanding your descriptive breakdown or altogether lost like a deer in headlights. His cocked eyebrow indicates the former, allowing you to continue.

"Loose tea has numerous aromatic tones, a longer shelf life, greater variety, and one scoop can be brewed multiple times. Yes, they're quite a bit more expensive and take longer to steap, but the pros outweigh the cons pretty unanimously."

"So why ya buyin' both then, bonnie?"

"The same reason you buy two bottles of the same whisky? One single malt and the other blended. Different brewing styles bring out different keynotes in taste. It's simple chemistry and, why are you looking at me like that?"

You question abruptly. His cerulean eyes gazing upon you with the warmth of a summer's dawn. And carrying with it a smile that would make any young mare weak and tremble at the knees.

"Yer so fuckin' cute when ya go on a tangent like that, bonnie. Cannae help but get lost in ya," he whispers. His thumb gently wrapping around the curve of your chin as he leisurely closes the distance between you.

"Um. Excuse me?"

A sudden, unfamiliar voice tears you both out of your enchanting eye lock, forcing you to break from his gaze and focus on the somewhat embarrassed expression of the young cashier.

"That'll be $78.95, ma'am."

Not even two months later, you turned John MacTavish into a class act tea brewing connoisseur. Something about the chemical intricacies of it seemed to pull at the explosive alchemy that flowed so easily within his mind.

Boiling the water to the perfect alloted time and temperature. Pouring it carefully over the filled infuser that he measured out like an artisanly skilled brewer. He even had an app that would indicate the steeping time for each distinct batch of tea leaves.

And as he brought the expertly steeped brew up to you in bed, you couldn't help but give yourself a theoretical pat on the back to turning the once tea scoffing Scot into a true master brewer.

"Simon would be proud, John." You teased, bringing the porcelain rim of elegantly decorated cup to your lip.

And Soap answered first with a icy glare, followed quickly by his typical brogish banter.

"Donnae fuckin' dare, lass."

Drabbles Masterlist

#ask and answered #tea master Soap #Soap the alchemist #soap squad #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap drabble #call of duty #cod #writeforfandoms

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

Text

— to pass the kamisato standards .

synopsis !! kamisato reader introduces their lover to their siblings, ayato and ayaka! just hcs and brainrotting

characters !! thoma, diluc, childe, al haitham, gorou, kazuha

contains !! gn reader, written while sleep deprived please don't judge if it doesn't make sense huhuh, a bit of a character study on how the kamisatos perceive other characters!

note !! been posting more lately! im in a good mood and would like to share more content ☺️ i also have drafts saved up. also, have you checked out the @/yaepublishinghouse ? i've joined the writing team!

T H O M A

Ah, Thoma? You don't even need to ask. he's already part of the family!

the safest option, really. they already considered him family long before your heart started fluttering around the househelper.

"well, it's honestly about time. ayaka and i have long noticed your affections for thoma," ayato smirks as you two turn red, "don't think i don't know what's going on in my own household, do you?"

not much would change after having your relationship official; thoma might be the only one to experience the change in people's treatment of him as the three kamisatos encourage him to be more proud in his status!

"we're going to get married, don't let people trample over you like that!" you pout. surprisingly enough, thoma is quick to adjust to a "noble behavior" while still keeping his friendly boyish charms.

D I L U C

foreign nobility? for real? your siblings would worry, do you want to live away from them?

thoma might be the only one a little more open to the idea. sure, he's sad but he respects your choice and who you love.

"Mondstadt is a great place. I'm sure it'll be a home for you, just like how Inazuma became a home for me."

ayato is more or less suspicious. "I've heard... rumors," he says carefully, "That man is suspicious to say the least. I'm not sure I trust him."

all in all, with how closed off inazuma seems to be, the kamisatos would be most reluctant to send you off to another nation for some solitary man with a questionable schedule.

C H I L D E

A fatui harbinger? Are you out of your mind!

no. no no no. you are not going all the way to snezhnaya for a fatui harbinger. love is fleeting, your affections will pass.

you really don't need him -your siblings would try to convince you- he has money? the kamisatos have money too. he's someone of rank? so does your siblings. what do you mean you love him so much?

"He's a family kind of guy! He's really sweet!" you'll plead and they'll still shake their heads no.

In fact, Ayato would go on a thorough investigation about exactly what the harbinger has been up to. From the incident in liyue to the homicidal tendencies.

unless you decide to elope, there's no way your siblings would give their blessing.

A L H A I T H A M

the scribe of the academia is a fine man, but some call him a... lunatic.

this one is a 50/50.

admittedly, your siblings are content with his status and background. he works under sumeru's government, just like the kamisatos, and was nominated for the highest ranking position only second to an archon.

he works rationally too! smart and efficient. that's great— but why is he such a blunt smartass?

Throughout the meeting with him, Ayato has a plastered smile on his face. Each conversation seems like a landmine, waiting to explode, trying to best the other with words.

Ayaka is more or less nervously sweating beside them, but you suppose you're glad that they're getting along!

G O R O U

oh? the general of watatsumi? an interesting choice!

ayato considers it a political win. with the kamisato name tied together with the general of watatsumi island, this could lead to better peace relations! and the kamisatos would be the head of it all.

being a general is no easy task, thats something ayato could greatly respect. meanwhile, ayaka and gorou are already familiar friends!

it's a little sad that watatsumi is on another island, but at least you get to stay in inazuma! you're also happy that you get to contribute to inazumas progressive politics as part of the kamisato household, living up to your duty.

K A Z U H A

the wandering samurai. . . ? are you sure?

while a good friend of the kamisato household, kazuha has already left the noble lifestyle of the kaedeharas.

it's not that your siblings want you to marry into nobility, it's just that they'll feel more comfortable if you were in a familiar environment.

meanwhile, kazuha is constantly on the move, never staying at one place. they trust him immensely but are you sure you're up for that change?

kazuha is a good choice, but a worrisome one nonetheless.

commissions || general m.list || ko-fi

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie @bluriie @aestellia @abyislan08

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raythekiller · 11 months

Text

🗒 ❛ Personality Headcanons ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: just my general take on the creeps. hope y'all enjoy! requests open :)

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

He's a total fucking prick, for a lack of better word. He doesn't care about other's feelings, he thinks he's better than everyone so he's "allowed" to treat people badly, and he has anger issues to top that. Protesting against his bad treatment is gonna earn you some screaming at best and some blood spilled at worst, depending entirely on his mood.

He has the potential to be a good friend and person in general, he just doesn't want to. However, you might catch him trying to awkwardly comfort Toby or Ben when they have mental breakdowns. Well, not as much "comfort" but more of a shy pat on the back and a "Stop being a little bitch" comment, but that's his way of showing that he cares. Take it or leave.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Generally a pretty chill guy. He's not an extrovert, but he's still fairly outgoing when it comes to meeting new people (when he does leave his room, that is. He's kind of a shut in). Since he died when he was about twelve, I think he's forever stuck into the pre-pubescent boy mentality, so he can be quite the little shit.

That means he's also kind of a pervert and just immature in general. The type to play certain games just to gawk at the female character's slutty outfits and make fart jokes. He can also be very sarcastic and witty when he wants to, just a total smartass. Also, he's a pothead.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Probably one of, if not the nicest creep in the manor. Very upbeat and cheerful, at least most of the time. As someone that has bipolar disorder, it personally doesn't make me very violent and as unstable as Toby is canonically said to be. What does make me does things though is my BPD, so I headcanon he has that as well. He's all sunshine and rainbows until someone says something in a slightly off tone and suddenly he's screaming and throwing his hatchets at the fucking wall.

That also means he's extremely clingy. He wants every last bit of attention he can get and is extremely possessive of people he likes. And, while he is nice most of the time, when he's having an episode he's probably the most cold and cruel person you'll ever met.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

One of the most chill creeps. He's not aggressive and kills only when he needs to eat, and tries to make it quick and painless for the victim. He eats any organs, not just kidneys. Also, he's a fucking great cook, Hannibal Lecter style. He really likes reading and is extremely intelligent, probably knows two or more languages, and is probably the most mature member of the manor after Slenderman.

He's not actually blind, but he's not not blind either. He sees the temperature of things instead of the actual object. He hates drama and argument and loud noises, so he normally stays away from the other creeps (especially our favorite trio, Jeff, Ben and Toby), but he gets along really well with Jane.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Another prick, though a more reserved one than Jeff. He's a perfectionist and natural leader, so he expects everyone to obey him without questions and no mistakes allowed. He has this rivalry going on with Toby because, even though he's the leader and Slenderman's right hand, he feels the tall guy has a certain favoritism or soft spot when it comes to Toby (which is true).

He gets very aggressive after missions and just wants to be left alone for at least a few hours, just until he calms down a little. After he's rested, he's actually pretty decent to be around, becoming less defensive and more accepting of others.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

The coolest guy ever. He's calm but great to be around and is always willing to listen to others when they need to vent. He's kind of the manor's therapist and gives great advice. He's mute, so he talks either through sign language or writing down on paper. He also plays guitar and likes to write his own songs sometimes. Ben and Sally really look up to him as a kind of cool uncle.

Since he's so level headed, he's always the one to calm Masky down when he's being a bit much. Toby really appreciates this, since he's normally getting the short end of Masky's bad moods. As mentioned, he's great with the younger members of the manor and just kids in general and they all love him. The type of uncle to give them candy while saying "Don't tell your parents" playfully.

#ticci toby headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #jeff the killer headcanons #eyeless jack headcanons #ben drowned headcanons #masky headcanons #hoodie headcanons #ray.writes

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xo-cori · 7 months

Note

can you do a dina x sub reader on a first date at some fancy restaurant but dina’s really flirty and touchy and loves making the reader nervous pleasee i need dom dina😵‍💫

magnetic, everything about you

pairing: dina woodward x fem!reader

summary: it’s unlike you to fall for anybody quite this hard. especially not on your first date.

warnings: kissing in public, lots of PDA in general actually, implied dom/sub dynamics

a/n: anon…….. this request changed my life. talking to dina b like uhhh ummm uhhum umm umuh uhhhhh um 😁

You aren’t made nervous easily.

In fact, you can’t remember the last time your cheeks have been this hot, or the last time you’d had this swirling feeling in your stomach, and it’s all because of her low-cut maroon dress and the way her arm hasn’t left your shoulders once after two glasses of wine. Her voice is smooth like honey, deep and sweet, and her smile is nothing short of infectious. She’s so close that you can smell the distinction between her perfume and her shampoo; a mix of roses and coconut that makes your head spin and your heart race.

This is awful, you think. She must be a succubus, or a witchy seductress; one who uses her powers to get what she wants. At this point, you’d be willing to give her anything. Whatever spell she cast is working.

The scenery of the restaurant around you seems to have disappeared. The chandeliers above that cast a warm light, the stained glass windows, all the distant chatter and conversation from tables around you. It seems that nothing matters outside of this booth, tucked away into a quiet corner, thigh-to-thigh with the woman of your dreams. She tells your stories of her friends, her coworkers, her family (mostly her older sister, you notice, they must be close). She makes your mind blank on any stories you could tell in return.

“Turns out, the car was unlocked the whole time anyways, so there was no reason for him to smash the window in the first place!” Dina laughs, and you offer a smile that might be brighter than the sun. Most people wouldn’t joke about their car getting broken into. Dina, though… Dina is different. A good different.

Conversation is easy with her. She could talk for hours and you wouldn’t mind, yet she makes sure to ask you just as many questions and ease you out of your shell. It’s only one of the many reasons you’re so whipped for this woman on your first date.

There’s a pause. A long one, and you would’ve tried to break the silence, but she seems to be studying you. It takes all of your willpower to not shrink under her prying gaze. She looks you up and down, causing you to raise your eyebrows expectantly. “What? Is there something on my face?” You wonder.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think I make you nervous.” Dina says. “It’s not like you’re really trying to hide it.”

This is quite a blow to your self esteem, considering you had been trying to hide it. Very hard, in fact. “Someone’s cocky,” you tilt your head away from her, an attempt to deflect from the embarrassment you feel.

“I’m cocky for a reason!” She brings her free hand to take a gentle grip of your chin, forcing you to look at her. “Your face is all hot. That tends to happen when people are nervous, y’know.”

“Don’t be a smartass!” You exclaim, nervously moving your face from her grip and looking down at your lap.

“But you like it,” she points out. “Look at me.”

Your jaw tenses as you finally look back at her. Her arm, the one that’s around your shoulder, raises a bit so she can smooth out that tension with her hand. That signature smile of hers is still there, and it makes you melt into her touch. “You like it, right?”

After a moment of silence, you nod. “Yeah, actually. Is it obvious?”

“Very.” She says. “It’s cute, though. You’re cute.”

You aren’t sure what to say to this, of course, but you find yourself immediately regretting the first words you can find.

“Kiss me,” you whisper. “Please.”

Her dark eyes widen, and at first, you figured you’ve already fucked this all up; that is, until she scans the room, pleased to find that no one’s being nosy. Little do you know, she’d been waiting for this moment all night.

When she finally kisses you, you can tell. Her hand holds the back of your head while the other wanders to your thigh, securing you into place, though you wouldn’t dream of pulling away. You taste her cherry lipgloss and the red wine that lingers on her tongue. Mindlessly, you grab onto her shoulder, thankful that she wore a strapless dress so that you could feel the smooth skin above her collarbone. You’d do anything to be closer to her. You’d crawl right into her lap if you weren’t in public.

The hand on your thigh wanders up to your waist, flexing against your rib cage, causing you to arch your back and whine as her tongue caresses yours. The simplest of touches, yet your knees turn to jelly beneath you.

Although hesitantly, she’s the first to break away. Her lips are plump and her cheeks dark, which fills you with an odd sense of pride. “Oh, you’ve been wanting that for a while, huh?” She teases.

You just nod your head dumbly, still eyeing her lips, wishing they were still on yours.

“You don’t have any plans after this, do you?” Dina asks with a hopeful tone. Your heart does a flip inside your chest.

“No,” you tell her. “Do you?”

“Unless you wanna leave with me, then no. I don’t.” She shrugs, watching as another wide smile breaks across your face.

You squeeze her shoulder. “I guess we both have plans, then.”

The sparks still haven’t faded. Dina smiles right back at you and you share a quiet laugh, uncaring to those around you, and most definitely uncaring to the fact that you’re gonna be leaving your car in the parking lot for the night. You’re unsure what the night holds, but Dina’s got you wrapped around her finger, and she looks at you like she knows it.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #dina the last of us #dina tlou #dina woodward #dina nolastname #dina x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina x you #dina woodward x you #dina x fem reader

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ficmashup · 5 months

Text

Feral

A/N: I'm feeling silly, so why not post an almost 3k little fic of TF141? I have literally no thoughts other than 'hey, why not' so no clue if I'll continue this or not. Just fooling around! This is my first time posting anything like this by me, so don't come for me if I got the terms wrong. Also, I'm a first-person girly, so forgive me.

Warnings: I'm pretty vague, but for full disclosure, possible SA mention? (Nothing explicit or even mentioned, but more a general vibe, sorry that's not more specific) shooting, guns, very minor character deaths, f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Read part two here.

Masterlist

I’m absolutely feral and determined to make sure everyone knows it.

Being in a male-dominated field hasn’t been easy and I’ve tried a lot of avenues before settling on this one. Something about being a female medic just really seems to set off everyone’s internal misogyny and nothing shuts them up faster than the little female medic literally punching their teeth in. I get into three fights my first month after being assigned to the 141.

The first fight I get into, I nearly bite a man’s finger off. (He was pointing it in my face and I warned him before going for it, so—deserved.) The second, I punch a man so hard while he’s talking that he bites off the tip of his tongue. (If he wanted to keep it intact, then he should have stopped wagging it.) During the third, I come away holding a chunk of a soldier’s hair. (He touched mine without permission and gave it a little tug. Enough said.)

After that, people seem to get the message. There are still a few smartasses that press their luck, but usually those situations are diffused without physical means. My relationship with my team however…that’s a bit more complicated.

I meet each of them when I arrive, the hulking soldiers lined up like pallbearers waiting for the coffin. I shook their hands, exchanged names, then didn’t say another word. None seemed to know exactly how to react to me and I wasn’t sure how to act around them. We’re supposed to trust each other with our lives, but I wouldn’t trust a single one to pour me a cup of tea. They struggle too, but for different reasons. They’re clearly close and know each other well, that’s why they’re such a deadly team, and I’m an outsider. A suspicious and cautious outsider, although I try to temper my attitude into passive indifference while I try to figure them out.

Naturally, Soap tries to break the ice first.

“You’ve got a thousand-yard stare that could rival Ghost’s, lass.” He comments one day in a charming Scottish accent as he risks sitting next to me in the mess hall. “You can bend my ear, if the fancy strikes ya.”

“I doubt that it will.” My voice is cool, indifferent, and I can’t keep myself from leaning away from him a bit. Too many times did I let myself trust another service member only for the friendship to quickly turn into something else. Something I did not want.

Soap quirks a brow and takes the cold shoulder in his stride. “But if it does. Don’t hesitate to find me.” He pats my shoulder before walking off and I feel the stirrings of something in my stomach as I watch him go. Loneliness, longing, the desire to be part of…something. I shake my head and throw away the rest of my food as I leave the mess hall, trying to ignore that little ember flickering in my gut.

* * *

Gaz tries next, but it’s a bit more subtle. Be it by luck or some other divine intervention, none of the team were ever present when I got into the fights. But they definitely heard about them afterward. There’s no judgement in their gazes, I’m sure they heard why I got into those fights, but there is curiosity. Gaz shifts a touch closer after a briefing about an upcoming mission and I clock the movement instantly, my eyes cutting to his. Gaz’s eyebrows pop up and the corner of his mouth lifts warmly. “Heard you were in a hell of a fight recently.” He starts, an elbow propped up on the arm of the chair he’s relaxed back into.

“Her last.” Price says with a pointed glance towards me and I nod, but we both know I didn’t start any of the fights. I simply ended them.

“The boys telling the tale were practically shaking in their boots.” Gaz presses on and I can’t help feeling a brief bit of pleasure at that. Price distracts himself with maps and papers on the other side of the table, but I’m not foolish enough to think that he isn’t listening. Soap perks up, turning to me as well while Ghost lurks near the door.

“Glad to hear the message got across.” I keep my voice low with little inflection. Usually I’m up and out the door after a meeting, but since everyone else is lingering, I figure I can give it a chance.

There’s a quiet hum from behind me that has my back straightening. “Trying to scare off the whole base?” Ghost asks and it’s the first time he’s asked me anything directly.

My head turns so that I can see his silhouette behind me. “Not all of us strike an imposing figure and wear a scary mask. Sometimes people have to see the blood on your teeth to know that you mean what you say.” I keep my voice soft to avoid the appearance of a threat, but let the words have an impact. Gaz and Soap glance at one another while Price’s hands stall over his papers across the table. A beat passes, then Ghost huffs what could almost be considered a laugh. The sound gives me a strange sense of relief as the tension over the room breaks.

“Can’t wait to see you sink your teeth into the enemy then, sergeant.” The corner of my mouth lifts and I nod, glad to have the opportunity to prove myself. I turn a bit more in my seat to see Ghost’s piercing eyes and don’t flinch away.

“I’ll save a blood-stained smile just for you, Lieutenant.” I promise and I think I hear Gaz swallow while Soap blinks. Ghost responds with a simple nod and I swear I see the fabric of his mask shift as he smirks before he slips out of the room.

* * *

The first real test comes when we’re sent out on our first mission together.

A month after I’m stationed with them, we’re sent out and it’s a bit jarring for all of us. They’ve been on their own for a while and introducing a new person into that dynamic…it’s enough to make everyone a bit off-center. But I’m used to sliding into places that I’m not wanted and I’m not about to be an idiot and risk everyone’s lives by being difficult, so I tuck myself into the small gaps left by the men. It’s not like they don’t want me here anyway, they’re just…apprehensive. Same as me.

We spend the first day trekking up a mountain through snow and I push myself hard, wanting to prove myself and leave no room for anyone to call me lazy or unfit. The entire day, I’m on Price’s heels as he leads us and I soak in his nod of approval despite myself as we file into an empty cabin for the night. I’m utterly exhausted, but I force myself to look through the house to memorize the layout before returning to the living room. Soap is eagerly setting up the hot plate for us to have a hot meal, even if it is an MRE, while the others are laying out their sleeping bags. They lay them in a row and I watch with trepidation as I put my bag down in a corner of the room, then sit alongside it as I rest for just a minute.

My eyes shut before I realize and I only become aware of it when I hear boots stop in front of me and they snap open. I look up instantly to see Price standing over me and I shove myself up onto my feet, teetering just slightly as I focus on his face. “Sir?”

“At ease.” He soothes and my shoulders lax just a touch at the command. “It’ll get below freezing tonight, so we’re huddling together. I’ve put you between Soap and I, but you can settle where you want.” Price chooses his words carefully with his clear eyes looking over my face for a reaction, but it’s clear that this isn’t optional.

“…yes, sir.” I respond, glancing over at the spot left bare for my sleeping bag. Anxiety gathers in my stomach and my hands clench at my sides. “Permission to take first watch?”

He considers me a moment, fingers smoothing over his facial hair. “Granted.” I glide away to the other side of the house and perch on a window sill as I look over the snowy landscape. Soap is kind enough to bring me my MRE and stalls next to me for a few moments.

“Feel free to snuggle close tonight. Or kick me if I start to snore.” He winks at me and my lips barely twitch at his effort to relieve the tension I know is clear throughout my body. After that, no one bothers me as night falls. The cold seeps into the house and I keep myself curled into a ball to conserve body heat even as I shiver. My anxiety about the impending sleeping arrangements keeps me awake and alert easily enough, but I can’t keep watch all night.

“Oi.” Ghost’s deep whisper disturbs the near silence and my head whips to my left, seeing him standing a few feet away. He moved quietly. Impressive for a man of his size. “I’m taking over. Get some sleep and get warm.” He flicks his chin back towards the others. I swallow and reluctantly leave my perch, brushing past him before I feel his gloved hand catch my bicep. My hand clenches into a fist automatically as I turn back to him to find his gaze locked on mine, his eyes dark and considering.

“I don’t know your story. Price has kept your file under wraps and we trust him enough to accept that. But whatever you’ve been through, don’t assume that you’re going to go through the same thing with us.” I’m pinned in place by his gaze and his words, my eyes widening slightly. I hadn’t known Price was keeping my file to himself, but the show of consideration and loyalty surprises me. It also hits me deep.

“I hear you.” I whisper back and he lets me pull my arm from his light grip. “But I’m not about to trust anyone blindly.”

He nods once. “Fine. But don’t rule it out either.” He quirks a brow at me pointedly before pulling away and settling in my place in the window, effectively ending the brief conversation. His words swirl around in my head while I head over to the others and gather my sleeping bag in my arms as I squeeze it. I kneel on the floor and roll it out between Price and Soap while my heart thunders in my chest. I’m still shivering as I do my best to be quiet while unzipping my sleeping bag, then slip down into it. My shoulders bump against Soap and Price before I shrink, curving my shoulders inward to try not to touch anyone despite that very much not being the point of sleeping like this.

Price shifts and turns towards me while I freeze, still shivering in place while I hold my breath until I see that his eyes are still closed. I release a small sigh of relief before choking on it as his eyes flash open. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as an apology perches on my tongue, but he says nothing. Instead, he shifts a bit closer without taking his eyes off mine, then lays an arm next to me before holding his other up a bit. An invitation.

I swallow and blink a few times as I take in the offer. Out of everyone, Price is the easiest for me to be around. He treats me like anyone else, he keeps his distance, and while he doesn’t hesitate to wield his authority, he wears it lightly. “Make a choice, soldier.” He murmurs with a voice gruff and deep from sleep. My jaw locks as a violent shiver wracks me before I force myself to shimmy closer to Price. I’m not about to freeze my ass off because of idiocy or stubbornness. He takes that as my answer and reaches out, hands wrapping around me and gathering me to him. The only noise I make is a small squeak as he pulls me against his hard body and I melt almost instantly into his warmth.

He cradles my face against the warm crook of his neck with his cheek resting against the top of my head. His other arm wraps around my waist and his hips shift slightly so his legs drape over mine while still in our respective sleeping bags. Like a heavy blanket. My heart is still beating fast as a hummingbird’s wings while my body fights my mind, but luckily, I’m so cold and tired that instinct wins out. My eyes shut and I feel my cheeks heat as his hand falls to the back of my neck, his gloved fingers gently kneading the skin. “Thanks.” I breathe and his grip tightens around me for a moment before he releases a long breath, draping me in the scent of his cigars. I don’t hear Price make another sound because I’ve fallen asleep before he takes another breath.

* * *

Price wakes early the next morning and I feel it the instant that he moves. I pull away without hesitation and his arms fall from around me while I avoid his gaze, my cheeks hot. I’m quick to roll up my sleeping bag and check over my pack while I cool down a bit. The morning passes and no one says a thing about our sleeping arrangements despite every soldier having to pass by Price and I while they took watch. Their eyes linger between us a bit, but I’ll take that over any smart comments.

We move out and the mission goes smoothly enough. Gaz and I perch on a cliffside while the others clear a town below. He’s my spotter while I keep a steady eye on the areas they’re heading into through my scope. Being a medic means I have steady hands, which makes me a hell of a sniper.

“So…did you know the Captain before being stationed here?” Gaz says quietly, the first words not mission related that he’s said to me today.

I scoff softly and keep my eye glued to my scope. “No. And if this is a way to get me to talk about the position Price and I were in this morning, it’s a poor segway. It was cold. We were all pressed together like sardines. That’s the end of it.”

“Right, right, sure.” He agrees and silence falls over us again. For a moment. “Ghost and I spoon all the time. Soap too. Like three little peas in a pod.”

I snort, unable to keep the corner of my mouth from lifting. “And leave Price out? Criminal.”

Gaz chuckles and the sound is warm, especially in this cold landscape. “Oh we invite him. He just doesn’t usually show much interest.”

“Hm. He is the captain. Maybe he has higher snuggle standards.”

“You saying the rest of us aren’t snuggle material?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Ouch, newbie. You strike for the heart.”

“I’m a sniper and a medic. It’s kind of my job.”

Gaz chuckles again and I realize that I’m actually…having fun? At least a little bit, anyway. “I’ll get a laugh out of you eventually, newbie.” My mouth opens to reply before I see a flash of movement in the town below.

Two figures pass by a second-floor window and I spot a hatch on the roof. I focus and take a breath as I aim at the hatch, waiting. I take a second to flick on my coms. “Two tangos on the northeast roof. Hold position.” The hatch begins to open while I remain steady, all my attention on that roof and my gun.

“Copy.” Price’s voice comes over the coms before there’s silence. The hatch opens and I wait for them both to get out, making sure it’s closed behind them before shooting. My breath funnels out of my chest and I make the shots without blinking, the action practically reflexive after so long in service. Both fall without getting to fire off a shot. I’m pretty sure I hear Gaz curse quietly beside me.

“Tangos down. You’re clear to move forward.” I report, heaving a relieved sigh as I see them move through the last stretch of town without incident.

“Copy, move out. Nicely done.” Price responds and I finally get to move out of my horizontal position. I stretch just a bit, wincing as my muscles pinch from being in the same position for so long, before I pack my gun and turn to Gaz who is shaking his head slightly.

“You took out those guys like a damn surgeon.”

The corner of my mouth lifts again as we head out. “Sniper and medic, remember? Let’s get out of here. Your comrades are missing their third pea in their pod.” I comment dryly and he grins, following me down the path where we agreed to meet the others.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You did. I’m flattered to be the first one to hear it. Was starting to worry you didn’t have a sense of humor at all.” I roll my eyes and we keep arguing playfully as we go. Gaz reports my shots to the team, talking me up while I shake my head, but from then on, he calls me Surgeon. It catches on and the others follow suit, but more often than not, they just call me G.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #fluff #angst #mw3 #possibly #tf 141 x reader #?#price x reader #captain price #price snuggles #he just looks cozy #price fluff

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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handcuffs and alibis

I cannot be tamed so here, have part five of dbf!Joel. Y'all can thank @morning-star-joy for this one, she kinda came up with the idea of tying Joel to the headboard. ENJOY y'all, I wrote this under the influence of two glasses of wine and a double tequila soda so... you've been warned. You can read the previous 4 parts here, and if you'd like to leave a tip on my ko-fi I'd be eternally grateful, but of course, no pressure!

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary | Joel teases you at another family cookout, so you decide to take your revenge.

Word Count | 3.8k

Warnings | As always, just dbf!Joel in general. Alcohol consumption and mentions of food, public teasing, oral (M receiving), use of restraints, dirty talk, protected PiV sex, no use of Y/N.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Texas Sun Playlist

Your dad never really needs an excuse to hold a cookout, especially during these long summer months. So, when you finally get the call that you did in fact land the job you wanted, he’s straight out stocking up on enough beer to get the entire street drunk and enough food to feed the US army.

He’s currently grilling the second lot of steaks, even though everyone sat around the table is stuffed from the burgers, skewered meats and hot dogs and no-one can really move. It’s a quieter affair than your welcome home party – sat around the table are your parents, Tommy and Joel and two of your mom’s friends from work. That doesn’t stop you from planting yourself directly across the table from Joel, making eyes at him over your bottle of beer, and running your bare foot up the part of his leg that you can reach under the table.

He's been a picture of calm the entire time, his eyes didn’t throw a shade of warning across to you, just a look that said, ‘go on, I dare you.” Which you had been putting to the test the entire evening.

“Can’t believe you’re actually going to be an archivist, smartass,” Tommy beams across the table when you’ve all had your fill of food, “We all knew you’d land it though.”

You smile and clink your beer with his, “Can’t deny it’s a huge relief, thought I was going to be unemployed for way longer than this.”

“Drinks on you next time, then?” He teases, “Joel and I know a great bar in town, maybe we can go sometime?”

“Are the drinks cheap?” You smirk, “I’m not going to be making millions and the way you two drink I’ll be bankrupt in no time.”

As you’re talking you can feel Joel’s foot tapping against yours under the table. It’s innocent enough but it’s just distracting enough that you struggle to engage in the rest of the conversation. You’re grateful when your mother takes the lull of silence in conversation as a sign to start clearing up. You almost jump at the opportunity to help her, which has her raising her eyebrow, but she doesn’t question you.

Once she’s brought all the dirty plates and cutlery along with the dishes of leftovers, she grabs a chilled bottle of wine from the fridge and heads back out to her friends, leaving you alone, yet again, to clean up a party held for you. You make quick work of packaging up the leftover sides and meat, putting them in the fridge before you start rinsing plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

“This feels awful familiar,” Joel’s voice speaks behind you, you turn and watch him peer into the dishwasher, “Good girl, nice to see I’ve taught you somethin’ useful.”

“What the hell are you doing, Joel?” You hiss.

He looks at you with a confused look, “I was complimentin’ your stackin’ skills, am I not allowed to do that?”

“Good girl,” You attempt to mock his accent, “Really, Joel?”

He has a glint in his eye and smirk across his mouth, “Don’t usually complain when I’m calling you that.”

“Usually because we’re alone, Joel.” You murmur as he takes a step towards you, resting his hand on the small of your back before he leans down as close as he can get to speak into your ear.

“You started it,” He speaks lowly, “All that with your foot runnin’ up my leg, got me all worked up sweetheart, and now I want you.”

You jerk your head to look out of the window, no-one is particularly looking into the window, but it would be so easy for anyone to turn their head and immediately see Joel pressed up against you, whispering into your ear.

You nudge your elbow into his stomach behind you, “Not here,” You hiss, “Anyone could see us.”

“Awful shy, all of a sudden, sweetheart,” He teases into your ear, but is thankfully moving back from you, “Suit yourself.”

You finish stacking the dishwasher as he pulls out two cold beers from the fridge, using your dad’s ‘Florida’ bottle opener from a vacation you took years ago to open them both, setting one down on the side for you. He leans against the fridge once it’s closed, sipping at his beer as he watches you. You wipe your hands dry on a towel and grab the beer, taking two long drinks from the bottle.

“C’mon, people’ll be wondering where we’ve gotten to.”

“Certainly can’t have that.” You mumble, quietly enough that he doesn’t hear you.

Back outside, Tommy is stood with your dad at the bottom of the garden, looking into the shed. Tommy is pointing at something and laughing and a split second later you can hear your dad’s low chuckle as well. Your mom and her friends have moved from the table to sit on the loungers that are around the pool, sipping wine and squealing at whatever neighbourhood gossip they’re talking about.

Joel’s hand is on the small of your back again, guiding you back to the table you were sitting at to eat dinner, you sit back in your old chair, Joel this time opts to sit next to you, because of course he does.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” You tip your beer bottle towards your mom and her friends.

“Probably the fact that Marcia at the end of the street is having an affair with her assistant at work.” He says it so nonchalantly that you almost think he’s joking, until you look up at him and find he’s deadly serious.

“Oh my god, really?” You choke on your beer, “Joel she’s like sixty, how old is he?”

He shrugs, “How am I supposed to know,” he takes a sip of his own drink, “Heard ‘em gossiping when I came inside.”

“Get it girl, I guess,” You snigger, “Her husband must be pushing seventy and we’ve all got needs I suppose.”

His warm hand comes to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. It’s under the table and with everyone else preoccupied with their conversations, no-one would really notice, but there’s still a thrill settling through your bones.

“Promise you’d let me sort your needs out at seventy, sweetheart?”

You snort, “Joel, when I’m seventy there’s a strong likelihood, you’ll either be senile in a home or dead.”

He throws his head back as he laughs, probably one of the most genuine expressions of happiness you’ve ever seen from him, and it warms your heart that you were the one to cause it. Outside of Tommy and Sarah, and occasionally your dad, Joel was stoic, almost to a fault, but you liked this version of him, warm and happy, with his hand on your thigh.

Said hand is now currently inching it’s way higher, hitting the material of your dress. You drop your head and watch as his hand disappears underneath the white linen material to rest dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. You turn your head to give him a warning look but he’s not even paying attention to you. He’s looking anywhere but at your face, his own plastered with a look of complete indifference that his fingers are brushing the cotton of your underwear and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

You can feel him tracing the seam of your pussy through the material and if he’s not careful, within the next few seconds you’re going to outwardly beg him to bend you over and fuck you on this table in front of everyone. To save yourself the pain of watching him slowly murdered by your father, you reach down and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from you.

“Will you give it a rest?” You chide, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.

Almost on cue, Tommy is bounding up the garden, your father a few steps behind him. Joel extricates his hand from between your legs, still looking like the picture of calm.

“Can you give me a ride into town?” Tommy asks, “Delia wants to grab drinks.”

You watch as Joel rolls his eyes, “Can you not take a cab?”

“C’mon Joel, just run me into town, it won’t take too long.”

“Who’s Delia?” You ask, winking at Tommy.

“Tommy’s latest girlfriend,” Joel replies, standing from the chair, “He’s smitten.”

“She ain’t my girlfriend, jackass,” Tommy glares at Joel, “We’re just spendin’ time together.”

“Oh, so she’s your fuck buddy then?” You smirk, causing Joel to choke on his spit and Tommy to laugh.

“Oh, c’mon old man,” Tommy is teasing, clapping him on the back, “You could use one’a them yourself, spendin’ all your time alone in that house.”

It’s your turn to flush, the words if only you knew spring to the forefront of your mind, and it’s almost like Joel reads your thoughts.

“Who says I ain’t got one of my own?”

Tommy looks disgusted for a second at the thought of his older brother having his own fuck buddy, you can feel your cheeks flushing too, knowing that it’s you he’s talking about when no-one else around you has any idea, “Right, well you keep that information to yourself please.” Is all Tommy replies before him and Joel are bidding everyone goodbye.

You sit for a moment outside, trying to calm yourself down, but all you can do is rub your thighs together and sigh that Joel did in fact start something he couldn’t finish, leaving you high, dry and horny in favour of taking his brother into the city to get his dick wet.

“You alright, doll?” Your dad asks, taking Joel’s old chair, “Looking a little flushed,” He puts his hand on your forehead to check for a temperature, “You feelin’ alright?”

“I’m fine dad,” You mumble in response, suddenly hyper aware of the high-pitched screeching coming from your mom and her friends, “I might go and lie down for a bit.”

“Alright,” He leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek, “You just shout if y’need anything, alright?”

You lie on your bed upstairs for two hours. Somewhere around the first hour you can hear your mom bidding her friends goodnight and then the hushed talk she has with your father. Once the sun has set and the sky is dark you hear them go to bed, and not ten minutes later the soft snores of your father start drifting through your wall.

You’re too worked up to sleep. What you should do is reach into your drawer, pull out your vibrator and get yourself off, drift off to sleep and let it lie. Without thinking about the consequences though, you’re standing from your bed and opening your bedroom door as quietly as you can. You close it behind you and when there isn’t a lull in the sound of your parents snoring you know you’re in the clear. You pad down the stairs and slip on your sandals at the door, slipping out once you’ve grabbed one of your dad’s ties from the washing basket.

You’re halfway down the street when you really think about what you’re doing. Turning up to his house unannounced with a big plan and no real idea on how to execute it properly. What if he was already in bed? Or what if he’d decided to stay in town with Tommy and have a drink? Thankfully as you get closer to his house you notice his truck is in the driveway. A few steps later you see the light in the bottom window, meaning he’s still up and about.

You knock gently at the door, listening as you can hear shuffling behind it before he pulls it open. He looks you up and down with a smirk on his face, fingers hooked into the top of his jeans like he always stands.

“Well, ain’t this a nice surprise?”

“You started something you didn’t finish,” You breathe, stepping close enough to him to press your body against his own, “I want you to finish it,” You demand, “Right now.”

“That so?”

You step back just enough to reach your hands to his shoulders, pushing him back inside his home. You’re half-aware of him slamming the door shut behind you, but then his hands are snaking around your waist and your back is pressed against the wall as his lips finally crash to yours. It’s messy, all teeth and tongue, but you’re not complaining. You’d been dreaming of him kissing you all evening.

“How am I meant to finish it then, sweetheart?” He asks, breathing against your lips before joining them together again.

“Bedroom,” You gasp out the next time he pulls away from you, “Take me to bed, Joel.”

He wastes no time in grasping at your wrist and pulling you up the stairs and into his room. It is so quintessentially Joel. Bed unmade, overflowing washing basket in the corner. Chest of drawers which wouldn’t close because each drawer was stuffed so full of clothes and other things they were overflowing.

You turn to him, he’s leant in the doorway, cool as a cat, which infuriates you because you are so incredibly turned on. Your chest is heaving with every breath you take, skin flushed hot, “Take off your clothes.” You insist.

“Take off my clothes?”

“Did I stutter?” You raise an eyebrow and his face drops when he knows you mean business.

He’s slow about it. He drags his t-shirt over his head as he walks towards his bed, discarding it to the floor as you turn on the spot to follow him with your eyes. Then he’s looking straight at you as he undoes his belt with one hand, pulling it through the belt loops to fall to the floor as well. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling them down excruciatingly slowly. Then he stands and waits.

“All of it, Joel.” You motion to his boxers with the clear bulge of his cock visible through them.

“As you wish, ma’am.” And they too are discarded, leaving him completely naked to your complete state of dress.

“On the bed.”

You wonder if he can tell what might be about to happen because he lies down on the bed, head propped against the pillow. You’re quick to take your place at the foot of the bed, crawling up his body to straddle his hips. You can feel his cock nudging against the cotton of your underwear as you fall into him and kiss him. He opens his mouth against yours and it’s at this moment that you pull the tie from inside your bra into one hand. His eyes are closed, and he has no idea what’s about to happen. You drop the tie on the pillow next to him, using one hand to wrap around one his wrists, pulling it to rest above his head. You put all your weight on this hand, using your other to pull his other wrist above his head also.

He's too busy tangling his tongue with yours and bucking his hips into your clothed pussy to notice you reaching for the tie on the pillow. In fact, it’s not until you’re pulling yourself away from him and wrapping the silk of the tie around his wrists and knotting it to the headboard that he starts to question what you’re doing.

“What- fuck baby, what’re you doing?” His voice is wavering as he tugs his wrists.

“Making you pay.” You shrug, simply.

“Whatever did I do to deserve this?” He asks, watching intently as you start moving down his body with trails of your tongue, stopping occasionally, to press hot kisses to his skin.

“You already forget your teasing from earlier?” You mumble against his skin.

“Thought you liked it.” He whimpers as your lips are peppering kisses along his pubic bone, ignoring the throbbing of his cock.

“I did,” You admit, “Until you left me high and dry.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” He insists, breathing laboured, “If Tommy wasn’t so insistent, I’d have stayed and fucked you in that garden.”

You hum against his skin, trailing kisses down his thighs, dragging your fingernails after your mouth. You revel in the sounds of his deep breathing and the gasps he’s letting out.

“I don’t think this is very fair, sweetheart.” Joel’s strained voice comes from above you, causing you to take a break from pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his thighs.

“You weren’t complaining about teasing when you were in charge, Mr Miller.”

You hear a groan of frustration because he knows it’s true. He knows he pushed his luck earlier and he knows this is one battle he’s not going to win. He relents his incessant pulling at the tie that’s got him trapped to the headboard, not quite sure how you’re so practiced at tying men up so they can’t move, but he files that away to ask about later. Now he just focuses on you and your lips. The lips that he so wishes would just move a little to the right and envelop his cock in one go. He’s sure the relief from your teasing would be enough to having him come down your throat in minutes.

If you were a better woman, you’d have been able to keep this up for hours, but there’s an ache between your legs that is crying out to you to bury yourself on his cock. You can tell from the way he’s jutting his hips up to meet your lips wherever you kiss him that’s telling you he’s struggling too. You’ve proven your point, now it’s time to have fun.

“What do you want Joel?” You ask, looking up at him from your place between his thighs.

His eyes are begging you, “Sweetheart,” He huffs, “I need your mouth on me.”

He’s waited long enough. You grip the base of his cock in your hand, running your tongue along the underside before your lips wrap around the tip. The moan that drops from his mouth is indecent, and it only gets better when you start bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Untie me baby,” He begs as you feel his cock hit the back of your throat, “I wanna put my hands on you.”

You pull your mouth off him, using your hand to jerk him off, running strands of saliva up and down his length, “I don’t think so, you got more than enough earlier.”

He throws his head back and groans as you put your mouth back on him, taking him as far down your throat as possible, using your hand to pump the rest of his length that you couldn’t. His groans spur you on until he bucks his hips up as your mouth is running down his length, causing you to gag, tears forming in your eyes.

“Shit… shit baby,” He curses and then mumbles that he’s sorry, “I ain’t gonna last much longer, let me fuck you.”

Your pussy is practically begging for him to be inside of you, clenching around nothing at all with every drag of your mouth and swirl of your tongue around him, so he doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself back on your knees, pulling your dress over your head and your underwear down your legs.

“Condoms?” You asked, his head motions to the bedside table.

You lean over him and pull one out, ripping the package open with your teeth before you’re rolling it down his length and straddling his hips, your tight cunt hovering inches above him. One last attempt at teasing him. He’s lined up just right with your entrance that when he bucks his hips, the head of his cock is nudging through your slick and into you and you’ve lost the game.

You sink yourself down onto him, throwing your head back in pleasure as your roll your hips and grind onto him. You open your eyes and the picture below you is a sight to behold. Joel, with his hands tied to his headboard by your dad’s striped, blue work tie, mouth agape with your name tumbling from his lips. He’s got a sheen of sweat across his beautifully tanned skin, beads of it pooling at his temples and dropping down onto the pillowcase below. He is completely at your mercy, and you think that if you tried hard enough, stared at him for long enough, that just this sight alone could make you come.

“Baby c’mon, untie me.” Joel begs once again.

You shake your head, instead leaning back, one hand gripping his knee behind you to steady yourself, the other snaking down your body to rest on your pussy. You dip your fingers down low enough to gather slick from where Joel’s cock is splitting you open, dragging your fingers up to circle your clit. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and the wanting that you know you’re finished before you really even start.

“God damn,” Joel moans beneath you, “So fuckin’ tight for me, that’s it, play with your pretty pussy for me,” Even when he’s tied up, he’s a menace, “Can feel you clenching me baby, you gonna come?” You nod your head but continue bouncing on his cock whilst your fingers bring you to the edge, “Touched yourself for less than a minute and you’re gonna come all over my cock, ain’t ya?”

“Fuck Joel, it’s just too good.”

“I know baby, I know,” He’s coaxing you, bringing his hips up to meet you on your way down, hitting that delicious spot inside you that he knows will make you come undone, “Give it to me, darlin’.”

It’s all you need. You hand is dropping from your pussy, palms of your hands hitting his chest as you convulse around his cock, crying his name out into the depths of his bedroom. He doesn’t let up his thrusts though, pounding into you from below, chasing his own high which soon follows.

You can feel the throbbing of his cock inside you, wishing that you could feel him painting your slick walls with his seed. Soon, you think, but not yet.

You’re face down on his chest when he mumbles from above you, “Think you can untie me now?”

You chuckle, pushing yourself off his chest to untie the knot. It comes apart easily and you think that if he had really wanted to, he could have pulled his hands apart and freed himself. He’s taking the tie from your hands.

“Where the hell’d you even get this?” He asks as you collapse onto the bed next to him.

“It’s my dad’s.” You smirk, turning to him, his eyes wide, dropping the tie to the floor like it had burnt him.

“M’never gonna be able to look at that man the same way.” He mumbles, turning onto his side, propping himself up on one arm, whilst using the other to rub soft circles on the skin of your tummy.

“Had to teach you a lesson somehow,” You grin at him, “Bet you won’t tease me again.”

“Oh sugar, if you’re gonna tie me up and ride me like that every time, you bet your bottom dollar I absolutely will.”

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wrestlingisfake · 17 days

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I've seen conflicting reports about Jack Perry's reception at Windy City Riot. Since I was there I'll give my two cents.

Speaking for my section of the building, nobody seemed to actually hate Jack, but they knew their role. He was trying to provoke Chicago, and it was more fun to let him do that than not.

I think this is the key to understanding smartass chants in Chicago, or smartass chants in general. Wrestling fans like to pop themselves, and each other. It's funny to be in CM Punk Land and chant "CM Punk" at a heel who hates CM Punk. It's funny to see a little pretty boy try so hard to be an edgelord, and chant "Luchasaurus" at him, because he'll never escape his old gimmick where he rode a dinosaur man to the ring.

Extending this logic: It's funny to be in Chicago, after two weeks of CM Punk/Jack Perry drama, and be one of the fans chanting "Let's go Scapegoat." It's funny to see Jack trying to be a badass and chant "You got choked out" because--dude, we all saw the footage. But it's way, way funnier to chant back "No he didn't" because--dude, he was only in that hold for like five seconds. It's even funnier when this becomes a dueling chant, because the fans at home will see how bonkers this town is. And then the most hilarious thing is when Perry responds by putting Shota Umino in a guillotine choke. We loved that shit.

Towards the end of the match people were chanting "GTS," because it's Punk's finisher. Originally I thought they were asking Shota to do it to Jack. But then Jack laid Shota out and they were still doing it, and Jack signaled for a GTS and the place went nuts. And then it didn't work and the place went more nuts.

I don't know if you could hear the "Thank you Scapegoat" chants on the broadcast. But after the match everybody appreciated this guy. We wanted a local villain and he gave us our money's worth. Maybe if he'd won, he would've been booed out of the building. But I think this was the right finish to prove that it's okay to bring Jack Perry back to AEW. Chicago hates him the way Boston hated the Brooklyn Brawler, not the way Montreal hated Earl Hebner. He'll be fine.

#njpw #jack perry

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epicbuddieficrecs · 3 months

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Weekly Recap | January 15th-21st 2024

My ao3 history is still fucked. Gonna have to figure out if there's something I can do about it :/

Complete

hot cocoa by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Established Buddie | 3K | Teen): Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

A Message To You by Mad_Lori/ @madlori (Media fic, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Two firefighters both write to an advice column on the same day, with the same problem - they're each in love with their best friend. You won't believe what happens next!

🔥 Life Cycles of the Southern Coastal Husbro series by Mad_Lori/ @madlori (Post-Season 5, Queer Platonic Relationship to Lovers | 5 works | 92K)

🔥 Courtship Behaviors of the Southern Coastal Husbro (QPR, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit): “I want you in my family, I want us to be a family. Officially. A family can be a guy, his son, and his best friend, right?” Buck’s lower lip was trembling. “You’re really asking me to be your…what, now?” “Frank called it ‘platonic life partners.’” Observational Notes on the Southern Coastal Husbro (Fluff | 10K | Mature): A day in the life of two engaged firefighter husbros and their smartass son. Migratory Patterns of the Southern Coastal Husbro (Coming Out | 13K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie visit El Paso to tell the Diaz parents that they're engaged. Also, they go viral (again), eat King Ranch Casserole, pontificate on queer identities, get a visit from the Fire Chief, and the Hot Firefighter Calendar makes a reappearance. Ancestral Lineage of the Southern Coastal Husbro (Parental Reconciliations | 13K | Explicit): The Buckleys surprise Eddie at home when Buck's not there, hoping to work around Buck's no-contact edict and attempt a reconciliation. Later, Eddie surprises Buck with the news that hey, he has grandparents on his mom's side, too. Surprise number two: they suck. Eddie and Buck remain disgustingly in love with each other. Sexual Alignments of the Southern Coastal Husbro (5K | Teen): Eddie goes out for drinks with the dispatch center folks, gets hit on at the bar, and has personal epiphanies about his sexual orientation.

Kilty Pleasures by JamesPearce911/ @diazsdimples (PWP, Established Buddie | 8K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie discover they have kilt kinks.

melt your headaches (call it home) by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed | 2K | Teen): hypothetically, Buck types. if someone hit their head in the morning, they probably shouldn’t go to sleep alone, huh The phone vibrates in his hand before he can even put it down, Eddie’s face flashing on the screen. Buck sighs and picks it up. “What did you do?” Eddie asks immediately. “Hypothetically, the Scrub Daddy tried to kill me.”

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 41/54 | 78K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

44. We Gotta Create Our Interludes: Rated E - some soft established relationship fluff and smut 45. My Application to Hell: Rated E - shameless smut of the "they could never get away with this in real life" variety.

what my heart just yearns to say (in ways that can't be said) by mimibegins/ @itiveseenthisfilmbefore (Post S06E15: Death and Taxes | 5K | General): “I didn’t know that,” Eddie replied, eyebrows furrowed. And then he added so quietly that Buck almost missed it: “I mean, how would I? As I don’t see you.” And Buck was struck through the core and taken back in time. From one moment to the next, he was back at the graveyard, looking at Eddie and saying “I feel like she sees me” and then he recalled the broken look behind Eddie’s eyes and oh. So that’s what was wrong.

Twice Struck by Tizniz / @tizniz (Post-Lightning | 3K | General): Buck finds out he wasn't the only one struck by lightning that night.

dusk until the dawn (you're where i wanna go) by mimibegins/ @itiveseenthisfilmbefore (Post S6E14: Performance Anxiety, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): “So, would you say that you’re worried about dating because you never really dated,“ Buck said as he shifted his weight, draping himself over the couch in a way that was almost obscene for a public space. “Is that a question, or– ?” Eddie wondered, slightly amused as he looked up at Buck, who looked so pensive, if not a bit stunned as he was seemingly still trying to wrap his head around the disastrous dating experiences of Eddie Diaz. “No, it’s– yeah, okay, I guess it’s a question but– have you?” Buck asked, almost bashful, with a faint blush sitting high on his cheeks as he met Eddie’s eyes. God, Eddie thought as he felt how the blood rushed into his cheeks as well. These feelings are definitely not platonic.

he's a big boy by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Married Buddie, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie has a thing for Buck's big dick.

one is one too many, one more is never enough by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (Drunk Confession | 2K | Teen): They say hangovers get worse as you get older. Buck never believed that until his first hangover in his thirties hit him like a fucking freight train. He had vowed to never get that drunk again. And he’d kept that promise to himself for over a year. That all changed at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’d like it noted that it wasn’t his fault that he got so drunk. He hadn’t had any of the mimosas that were flowing while Maddie and her bridal party got ready because he didn’t want to risk anything going wrong when he walked Maddie down the aisle. In fact, he hadn’t had a drink until after he gave his speech.

🔥 Don't Push Me So Far Away I Can't Reach You by giselleslash (Friends With Benefits | 12K | Mature): or the one where Buck thinks he and Eddie are just friends with benefits so he pushes Eddie to date other people because he’s an idiot

if you keep reachin' out (then I'll keep comin' back) by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): It probably wasn’t the best idea to flirt with Buck before a rescue but Eddie couldn’t help himself. He’d been struggling with keeping his feelings for Buck locked down for months now, maybe even longer if he was honest with himself.

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard? by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz (Post-Shooting | 9K | Teen): or, in which eddie's will reveal is a love confession, and buck takes a second to catch up

🔥 maybe love won't let you down by sibylsleaves (Season 5B, Getting Together | 15K | Mature): Buck tells Eddie he’s in love with him. Eddie pines. or, five times eddie watches buck leave, and the one time he goes after him

Rope 'n Ride by rosebuddiekin/ @giddyupbuck (PWP | 2K | Explicit): Or: Eddie rides Buck wearing the cowboy hat.

WIP

search history by forgottenwords (Getting Together | 8/10 | 11K | Explicit): Eddie opened the Safari app to find a specific recipe Buck was looking for, but something was already typed in the search box. Beefy blonde twink gets railed by— Buck's voice calls out from the kitchen “Did you find it yet?” and Eddie hastily closes the tab, opening another with a surprising speed from someone considered technologically illiterate. As close as they were, he’d never had a thought about the type of ‘adult entertainment’ Buck was partial to. Now, it was all he could think about.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 107/? | 296K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 5/18 | 23K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 1/3 | 5K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

(when i die) i'll die loving you by lecornergirl / @clusterbuck (The Good Place Fusion | 1/? | 2K | Teen): OR: buck and eddie are in the afterlife, and they're soulmates. but it's not quite that simple.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

22. 82. Whispering "I love you" in-between kisses 23. 1. Whispering "kiss me" to your lover 24. 18. Grabbing your lover by the collar

#buddie #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #epic buddie fic rec #911 fanfiction #911 fic #911 fanfic

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