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sirenmoth · 2 hours
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save a horse, ride a cowboy
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"Homeless radioactive cowboy with no nose" : The Ghoul 🤠 - F A L L O U T ( 2024 )
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sirenmoth · 4 hours
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DREAM BLUNT ROTATION ft. HIGHAF!POLY141
Synopsis: Silly 141 getting high with reluctant but experienced reader, happy belated 420 yall
Warning(s): Drug Use, Poly!141, AFAB!Reader, Sexually Suggestive?? Barely Proofread (i'm dyslexic sorry)
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"This is an awful idea..."
Kyle's tone is halting as he observes the way, Johnny begins to pick apart the large bud of weed and spreads it out on the rolling papers that Simon purchased not too long ago. Simon wouldn't say where he pawned off the necessary ingredients for a good blunt, and neither he nor Johnny were going to ask.
"Don't be such a wet blanket, Kyle." Simon quips at the uneasy Sergeant.
Johnny snorts as he brushes off the stickiness of the bud and the aroma is rich, sweet, and pungent as it fills the Lieutenant's dorm. If they received any disciplinary action, Simon would take the fall (which was mighty presumptuous of him being that all the resin glands were on Johnny's fingertips, but they digress).
"Ease off on him, L.t.. He's the teacher's pet amongst us, like." Johnny winks at Kyle.
Kyle's face contorts in disgust and betrayal. "Piss off, MacTavish."
This sends the troublesome pair into a fit of giggles, but suddenly the door opens and they're all jostled by the new company. You freeze as you look at the three bozos lounging around in Simon's room. Crushed-up cans and empty bottles of ale were tossed around the room, half a eaten pizza left out on the coffee table where Johnny was busy rolling up a joint.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Your tone is exasperated and beyond wanting to comprehend why in the entire fuck they were deciding to roll up in the Lieutenant's room.
"Why." It wasn't even a question. You really just demanded an answer at this point.
"I didn't—" Kyle is the first to open his mouth, but you close your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him. You shake your head and then sharply exhale as you shut the door behind you.
"Good girl." Simon sarcastically praises as you wordlessly sit next to Kyle.
Johnny giggles at the way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment as you tuck in your legs and lean comfortably to the side.
"Fuck you." You spat at him. "I could have you reported."
"Under what jurisdiction?"
You sit there with a disgruntled expression on your face and you're aware of the smug look that hides behind his stupid balaclava-clad face. Johnny isn't even high yet, but he's giggling like a maniac at everything Simon says. It's the thrill of getting caught red-handed with contraband and bloodshot eyes that makes him lightheaded and giddy. Not that they were bound by any real-world laws or regulations because the 141 operated outside the chain of command, but Price finding out would certainly be a damper in their mood.
But your frown turns into an evil simper. "I'll tell, Price."
And the mood drops for a moment, but Simon loves to challenge you. It's practically etched into his DNA to rile you up in any way he can.
"Go ahead, ducky."
"Don't call me that."
And Simon's hit a nerve, but that all seems to dissipate as soon as Johnny places the rolled-up joint between his lips and sparks up. The first sweet inhale relaxes every rigid nerve in the Scotsman's body as he passes it off to his Lieutenant and leans against the wall. Simon lifts his mask and your jaw ticks at his exposed flesh. His lips are a pretty pink that wraps around the spliff, before toking the absolute fuck out of it and holding it in before exhaling it out through his nose.
The pair exchange a look before nodding and grinning at each other. "Tha's good shit, maaate."
"C'mon, Kyle." Simon coos, beckoning him over. Kyle moves ever so slightly in his direction, but your hand grasps his wrists halting him back.
"Oh, come now, [name]. Don' be uptight. 's all good vibes round 'ere." The masked idiot smirks at you before passing it off. Kyle glances over at your disapproving stare before hesitantly taking a hit. It doesn't even take a second before he's coughing his lungs out and Simon and Johnny are cackling, keeling over on the tiny bunk. You think it may break under their weight at any given moment, but that's just wishful thinking.
"That's not how you do it, Kyle." You chide, seizing the joint from him and you're drawing in the smoke yourself as you demonstrate the proper way of inhaling it. Simon and Johnny go silent as they observe you clearly very shocked by your sudden volunteer.
"Gotta hold it properly." You bring the joint to your lips, comfortably positioning it between your fingers. "Don't inhale too quickly, or you'll cough your lungs out like you did just now. Take your time and hold it before releasing it, slowly." You indicate to him once more and the THC unravels months of built-up tension embedded in your body now that you got a proper hit.
You peer down at the spliff as you exhale the smoke. "Damn, that's good shit. Where did you twats get this?" Chuckling a bit at your usage of their own slang on them.
"Though' we were pourin' poison in the well, but the water is already spiked, it seems." Simon is lying back against the wall, propped up on his elbow with one leg flat and the other is bolstered up. He's relaxed as hell, surveying you like a cat as his tail swishes around with piquing interest. And Johnny is like his orange cat counterpart, licking his paws and rubbing his head as they lounge together on cloud nine.
"Mmm, she's always been like that. Naughty lassie." Johnny teases as he moves closer to you. He's sitting on your right as he eyes the way Kyle successfully follows your directions.
"Aye, tha's a good lad." Johnny praises, rubbing his thigh and Kyle is blinking up at him with hazy, honeyed eyes.
And for some reason you're taking offense to that. "Hey what about me?" You pout at him.
And he's beaming when his baby blues flicker to you. Calloused palm flattening against the expanse of your exposed flesh, riddling your thigh with gooseberries. There is a slight snatch in your breath as he caresses you but you don't move away and it's quickly starting to feel a little heavy as you feel everyone's eyes on you.
But before your body can even react, the door is getting barged into and there stands a very irate Price who literally looks like steam is pouring out of his ears. And just when you think that you're all about to get your asses handed to you, Price plucks the spliff from Kyle's fingers, opens the window and everyone is clamoring to rise from their seats thinking that he's going to toss it out. But you're all dead wrong.
My mans is taking the biggest puff out of all four of you before he jovially steeps the smoke out of his nostrils and he's nodding in approval, "Aye, tha's good shit."
There's a collective sigh of relief that settles upon the 141 before Simon speaks.
"Christ, Boss, least warn us."
"Thought y' were gonna bite o'r heads off." Johnny leans against the window sill, left of his Captain.
Price chuckles as he takes another brief toke before passing it off to Simon who was on his right.
"I should've, you lot were gonna finish it before I even got a toke."
Simon gazes over at you from where he's posted, inhaling the last few hits of the blunt, but you and Kyle are fucking zooted. I'm talkin heads rolled back against the couch cushions and you're gone.
And he is choking on the smoke as he laughs at the both of you before Johnny and Price glance over and join him. Their giggles attract your hazy attention and you lazily toss a pillow at the back of Johnny's head. But then you're cowering away as he approaches you in a jokingly menacing manner, wrapping his arms around you like he's about to perform a tickle attack.
The sound of your stomach growling rips through the silliness and he pouts at you and rubs your belly.
"You hungry, ducky?" Price is towering over you from behind the couch you are situated at, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear and you feel your cheeks warming up at your Captain's sedative voice.
You nod at him with a giddy smile, and before Price even opens his mouth Kyle is pulling up his Uber Eats app to order everyone's go-to Chinese take-out meals.
And as Price is extolling his Sergeant by lightly massaging his shoulders, Simon is taking your chin between his fingers and tilting his head at you.
"Y'got everyone at y'r beck an' call, ducky." But the nickname no longer has its previous bitterness. It's replaced with endearment as he pinches your cheek and that draws out a smile from you.
"Didn' know ye were s'experienced." Johnny's warm breath fans over your neck and you're starting to feel a buzz that's reminiscent of your uni days.
You hum in response as you feel Price's fingers gently scratch at your scalp, and there's a gentle euphoria that warms you to your bones.
"Quit yappin' her ear off." Price scolds the two, but something about the way you're being simultaneously taunted and dotted over is starting to ignite a bit of desire within you.
You shut your eyes and all your senses feel elevated as you're being coddled on all sides. And as much as Simon loves getting under your skin, there is something about the way you're blissfully sitting there not having a care in the world as everyone trills around you.
"Like a kitten." He warbles, caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch.
"A very cute kitten." Johnny nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck as his fingers brush against your knee. A giggle leaves your lips and you're squirming away from his ticklish stubble.
But every way you're moving, you're in the hands of a different man who's relishing in your coquettish behavior. It's overstimulating really. So, the minute you hear wrapping at the front door you're jumping out of your seat to check out who's behind the peephole.
But it feels like a slo-mo scene as you're running away from the giggly, dazed men who follow closely behind you. By the time you're reaching the door, Johnny has already tripped over the end table, Simon is heaving for air and slipping over the barstools in the kitchen in a loud clatter, Price is attempting to help them both up but can't stop laughing his ass off and Kyle, well, mans is passed out on the couch with his mouth wide open.
You can hardly even contain yourself as you open the door, and the delivery man on the other side is flummoxed yet amused at the men in the background and then there was you. Giddy as hell, palms facing up with the most bloodshot eyes.
And before he can even get a word out, Johnny is wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you back to the couch while Price is sending him off with a wad of cash as he grabs the food.
"Chattin' up the delivery lads, aye?" Johnny teases, as he pulls you into his lap and begins to tickle you. The smell of food is waking Kyle up from his little half-baked nap and he's ruffling your hair as food is being passed out.
"She doesn't need to bother. She's too fit for that." Kyle opens up his kung pao chicken and the smell floods into your nostrils, but he's already on it. "Say 'ahh'." He lifts the chopsticks to feed you the delicious morsels and you happily accept it with a jubliant hum.
"Spoiled little thing." Price chirps as he shoves his lo mein into his mouth. The sauce coats the corners of his mouth and the ends of his stache.
"An' who's fault is that?" Simon gestures at his Captain with his chopsticks. It was true. As their Captain, naturally, they fell in line behind him, so when they saw how he would pamper you excessively they would do it too. And not because of the fact that they were good little soldiers, but because it opened the doorway for them to openly chat you up or (consensually) feel up on you.
Price lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah, bullshit! The minute you lot clocked the opportunity to grab her, you were all over it!"
Johnny licks his lips as you feed him a crab rangoon. "Can ye blame us?"
You quickly cover his mouth with your hand and scrunch your nose up at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Johnny!"
He playfully nibbles at your hand and you're then being scooped up by Kyle, who is more than happy to accept your weight in his lap. And Johnny is moaning about how you're being stolen away.
"She's not being swiped if she's scarpering off by herself!" Kyle laughs as he's swatting away any attempts at Johnny trying to confiscate you back.
So, of course, Price wants to dig his heels into Simon when he sees how lackadaisical he is.
"Simon couldn't pull her even if he gave it a good go."
Dark, piercing eyes dangerously flicker to the smug Captain who lays back against the arm chair, sipping on his ale and waits as he takes the bait. One thing that Simon doesn't like is when someone's threatening his hold on his position in any type of situation that especially being you.
"I don't need t'bother." He retorts, taking a sip of his own drink as he man spreads on the sofa.
"Oh, and why's that?" Price is intrigued now. Simon narrows his eyes at him but continues to stuff his face with food, sticky bits of rice garnish the sides of his mouth. This doesn't stop the Captain from pressing the matter and it's now starting to capture your attention as Johnny misses your mouth when he attempts to feed you some stir fry and it stains for your cheek instead.
But Simon is effortlessly patient and cool as a cucumber when he's being dogged on by everyone now, and you're observing the situation closely. He carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a last swig of his drink before he gets up to clean up after himself. And Price is almost convinced that Simon has given up as used, balled up napkins are being tossed at him by Johnny and Kyle, but in one swift movement you're being tossed over the behemoth's shoulder. A squeak barely manages to escape you as he pats your ass and the others are scrambling to get you as they playfully jest at Simon.
"Ah, no fair!" Johnny tugs at Simon's waistband, and lets go with a loud snap to his pelvis.
"Unhand her!" Kyle laughs as he tries to grab your foot, but he's only left with your ankle sock.
And while those two idiots finally gather themselves to give in to chasing after him, Simon is booking it to his room, and Price is left cackling on the armchair enjoying the rest of his meal.
"Simon!" You giggle, as he's enforcing the door and locking it with one arm as you barely dangle off his shoulder.
He balances you out just for a moment before he tosses you onto his bed and successfully turns the lock. Johnny and Kyle's shouting can be heard on the other side of the door, but Simon doesn't seem to give two fucks as he's approaching you. You're laid out on his bed, cheeks flustered when he towers over you, grasps your wrist, and raises them above your head.
And as his lips are hovering above yours the door is getting busted into as Simon is getting tackled to the floor as the Sergeants hold him down. Your eyes ream at the little giggly clusterfuck, and then in strolls Price who sits on the end of the bed and scoops you into his arms. You feel dizzy in his warmth as you snuggle against him and he kisses the top of your head.
You begin to realize something while you watch Simon turn into a cackling mess as he's being simultaneously tickled mercilessly by Johnny and Kyle. Price has a triumphant smile plastered on his face. It creeps up slowly on you, but he had succeeded in properly baiting all three men, so he could get his way with you.
His azure hues shift to you and he's kissing your cheek. It makes your heart flutter, but you're shaking your head at him when he's gazes down at you with that impish expression.
"Naughty little minx." You wave your finger at him with a bubbly smile. And he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck, tittering away because he knows he's been caught red-handed.
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sirenmoth · 4 hours
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In Another Life
Hurt, no comfort, I’m ready to break my own heart.
Your flatmate is dating Soap and he’s everything you want.
Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.
CW: low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.
A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.
——
Soap is dating your flatmate.
Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.
He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering “sorry ‘scuse me” as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his “no no, I’m taking up all the room, lass.”
You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering “I can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!”
You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now. That’s not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.
——
On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didn’t.
——
Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.
“Call me tomorrow, alright?” His voice is muffled.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Just call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast.”
Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasn’t the coffee you were thanking him for.
——
Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and it’s like they have heart eyes.
“Y/n, it’s y/n, THE GOAT!” Your roommate yells.
“The GOAT!” Soap hollers.
They both flop into the sofa either side of you. They’re too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.
A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.
Your roommate grabs one hand.
You’re next.
You take Soap’s hand and you arc off the sofa, he’s strong.
You’re pressed up against his side. He’s hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isn’t yours.
——
“It’s only 2 days but I’m so excited,” she talks about her friend’s wedding in the south of France, “I’m wearing this dress” she flicks through her phone gallery “and Johnny is going to wear a kilt!” Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.
“I love it, you’ll match!” You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories they’ll make and photos they’ll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.
You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldn’t find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.
But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he “had an early start to work tomorrow.” You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didn’t even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.
Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.
“We bought you back some chocolate!” Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.
“Aww guys you didn’t have to.” Your mouth is dry.
“Johnny found it, I didn’t know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!”
You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want you to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in.
——
“He’s a prick, forget about him.” Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.
“Oi who’s a prick?” Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmate’s waist in his hand.
“No one-“ you turn away.
“A fuck boy that y/n isn’t seeing any more.” Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasn’t her decision.
“He isn’t a fuck boy.” You know you’ll regret clarifying the point, “we didn’t fuck, so he’s not. He’s just a prick.” You and the conversation. Soap whistles.
Later that night when you’re washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.
“Listen, forget about that guy,” he says low, you’d follow that voice anywhere.
“Thanks.” You squeak quietly.
“You will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and you’ll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?” He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.
He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.
The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.
That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.
——
“We’re going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnny’s friends are going to be there.” Your flatmate asks you.
You wonder if they’re as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself you’re just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, that’s what everyone says.
You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isn’t abundant but you’re feeling yourself.
You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.
Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gaz’s girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.
The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didn’t want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.
When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!” You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.
You didn’t notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.
“Babe. Babe-“ he says “don’t go there.”
Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say ‘I know what I saw.’
“It ain’t like that, the Captain is… Price is… Look, he’s married to the job.” Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, “we don’t sit around and talk about it but he ain’t the type to mess around.”
You play it off “we were just talking, it’s not a big deal.”
It hurts when Soap says “good, because he’s a lifer.”
You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soap’s words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.
Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.
“I can’t even get a text back, why would he be interested?” You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.
——
“You like tha’, lass?” you hear Soap rasp, you’re not sure if he’s taking her from behind or if he’s on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate it’s either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate it’s good.
You don’t breathe. You just listen.
“Oh god, Johnny please!” Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.
You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.
“Tha’s it,” you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmate’s voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.
You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.
——
One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.
“Nice bit of skirt, that.” He leers at your flatmate.
“Fuck off, you prick!” You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?
When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldn’t hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.
“Thanks for taking care of her,” he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.
He adds “I’m sorry Gaz and Cap couldn’t make it, paperwork.” You’d heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.
During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.
But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises you’d read about, through your tears.
——
You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.
You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didn’t have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnny’s.
——
You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldn’t. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - it’s like they knew something you didn’t. And they did.
You found yourself outside with Price. He’d asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.
It was cold outside, bitterly cold.
“You’re a lovely girl, y/n, you’re, smart, pretty, ballsy,” he says, almost to himself. You’re immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and there’s a pit in your stomach.
“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlin’.”
The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.
You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.
With wet eyes and wobbly voice than you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?”
He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.
“In another life-“ he quietly began.
You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”
You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.
——
It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.
Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, you’re sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.
“Look at you! He’s a lucky lad!”
“Wait, let me see!” Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.
Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.
“Oh you look gorgeous, girl!” You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.
You read out the text message.
“Sorry can’t make it, hungover lol.” You sound distant, as if it wasn’t related to you.
“Fucking prick.” Soap says with no hesitation.
“Y/n…. Babe.” Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but you’re limp and embarrassed.
“Fuck it, I’m going out anyway!” You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.
The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You don’t last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.
——
You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.
You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.
——
“Turn it down!” You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.
Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.
“Oh John, hi!” You can’t hide that you’re happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.
“Hi love, sorry to come by unannounced,” he’s standing straighter and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is your flatmate around?”
“Yeh, come in.” Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.
“No,” she recognises the look.
“I’m so sorry, love.” Price says quietly.
“Oh god no!” She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.
You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.
His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.
“We’ll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,” Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldn’t go with her.
Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldn’t eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.
It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.
——
You weren’t invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how he’d walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasn’t holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone else’s partner so deeply and intimately.
Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you weren’t. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.
“I can’t do this without him!” She would plead, “I miss him so much.” You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.
“John came by today, he sends his best.” She says.
“Bless him,” you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldn’t come.
“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.
“Soap was right about him.” You said, “and that’s okay.” You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.
——
‘What cannot be said will be wept’ you read the quote over and over, you’d seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.
His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.
“Come in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?”
It had been 6 months since the news.
“How are you holding up?” Price asked.
“M’okay, trying to be there for her as best I can.”
“I know it isn’t easy for you either.” He said, “you’re doing good by her, you’re a good friend.”
Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didn’t feel like a good friend.
“He was so good to her-” you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.
You’re surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, you’re completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.
“I’m sorry love,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you.”
“You don’t have to apologise for anything John, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You sounded throaty.
“I made you believe in something I couldn’t give you.” His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.
“In another life,” you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Another life.” He says back, kissing your head.
“Take care of yourself, John” you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.
Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more he’d have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasn’t one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.
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sirenmoth · 4 hours
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ghoul of the week
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sirenmoth · 7 hours
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tw// angst, blood, major character death
ooooof i’m thinking poly!141 watching you die. it’s very sudden and very fast. someone hadn’t spot the last sniper, high above into the trees, leaves aiding the enemy’s hiding spot.
so when a bullet gets lodged in your throat, it takes everyone by surprise. kyle is the one standing right next to you when it happens. you feel a heavy punch in your throat, then see kyle’s face get splattered with your blood.
and now you’re on your back, gurgling and choking on your own blood, clawing at your boyfriend’s wrists as he presses down on the giant hole in your neck. but its futile.
you can't talk, can't breathe and you can feel your limbs getting heavy.
you can see as the rest of your lovers come running to your side. kneeling over you. desperation so obvious in their eyes.
it’s too bad you can’t comfort them, can’t tell them you love them one last time. it’s too bad you can’t hear them either, the ringing in your ears getting louder and louder, until you let your arms drop and close your eyes one last time.
now it’s just dark and quiet.
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sirenmoth · 22 hours
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sirenmoth · 1 day
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"Honey, I'm home!"
minotaur x fem!reader || breeding, knotting
You heard the door closing and his hooves stumping as he looked for you. He knew where you were. In the same place as every night when he got home. Dinners were on you as long as he made breakfast. Early days of marriage were all about compromise. Or that’s what everyone told you when you married. Listening intently, hyper-aware of his presence someplace behind you.
“Smells good.” He called out as you heard the bag hitting the ground someplace in the hallway.
“Stir fry.”
You let out a startled cry as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Not the food.” He whispered against your ear, grabbing your waist and pressing his whole body against you, sniffing your neck.
“What are you doing?” You asked, cutting vegetables, his body pressed against your back. Before you could even blink, he was pressing you against the counter, his erection poking at your back. “I need to make dinner.” You tried to break free of his hold, but he just pressed you harder.
“I missed you, that’s all.” He whispered next to your ear, his soft lips grazing your skin in the softest caress, making your whole body shiver.
“Missed me? You saw me this morning.” You giggled at his antics, trying to push him away. You knew full well that there was no way you could out-power him.
His solid frame against you was too heavy, too big, too imposing… He could do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn’t do anything to stop him. You should be scared, but you weren’t. Nope. You couldn’t be scared. That’s the first thing that drew you to him, his fucking size. How big he was, how his body towered over you, how his biceps were bigger than your head. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you enjoyed feeling so tiny against him. Maybe you enjoyed the feel of him picking you up and using you as he pleased. Maybe...
Lost in your horny thoughts you didn’t realize his hand was inside your panties until his fingers were playing with your clit. “I missed this pussy. My pussy.” His big fingers felt rough against your soft skin.
“Wha-?” Your voice broke with a groan when he pinches a bit too harsh, a bit too forceful. You know he did it on purpose, he could be gentle, he usually was. But him being rough to you meant one thing: your fertile days arrived, you just signed yourself for a fuck-athon. Oh dang. So you did what you could: you whimpered.
He laughed at your whine, a spark of cruelness shining through. “Don’t play coy now, pet. I can feel you dripping down my fingers.” Said fingers were probing your entrance, hovering over it until you moaned his name And then hell broke loose. He didn’t give you a heads up, he didn’t play games like that. One second you were standing pressing against the counter and the next one your clothes were ripped off you and his dick was pushing into you. Too fast, too harsh, not letting you adapt to his size. He was in for one thing and one thing only: breed you.
His dick was so deep and so hard that you could feel every ridge, every vein. It felt like the most amazing torture, the sweetest death. In seconds, you were not a person anymore, just a toy for him to play as he wished. He grabbed your hips, bouncing you on his cock as you grabbed the counter for dear life.
“Are you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” You whined. The combination of his shaft inside you and his fingers playing with your clit made your climax hit you like a tide wave, gasping for air as you trembled on his dick.
But that didn’t stop him, you were his to play and his to fuck.
“That’s it. Good girl. Again.” His fingers were still playing with your oversensitive clit, in the good side of too painful. Your pleasure felt raw, your throat spent, not a single sound coming out of you. “One more, pet. Give me one more.” You complied. But that wasn’t enough.
Your bull of a husband kept fucking you, not stopping for a second. His labored breaths making you hotter. His moans making you wetter (if that was even possible). His pace was brutal, and you didn’t know what was up and what was down. Your body was completely spent as he used you as his own personal fleshlight. You kept coming, and coming, and coming… It was too much, too good.
Your brain was foggy, your body felt like jelly as he moved you up and down, your legs gave out long before he stopped. And then you felt it, the telltale sign that he was close, the bulbous knot at the base of his dick twitching against your entrance at every thrust. With a long groan, he pushed it inside of you as you screamed. Your vision went black, you went limp as he pumped you full of cum, your lower tummy bulging. His big body was pressing you down onto the counter like the biggest weighted blanket, his dick still pulsing inside of you.
“Bed.” He mumbled as he lifted you off the counter, still impaled on his dick, his knot preventing any cum from escaping.
“But dinner...” You whispered in a choked breath.
“Later.”
It was gonna be a long night.
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sirenmoth · 1 day
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id just get up and leave their asses (plz give more this is so good)
maybe in the middle of a shootout reader does something that automatically saves the 141 from death but 141 thinks that reader was being reckless and doesn't listen to orders so they neglect reader because reader disobeyed a direct order
please inject this angst into my veins i’m obsessed feed me more the worms are hungry
c/w: this is sad, angst, silent treatment, don’t ask me to make reader leave them I love the suffering
work stays at the door. that was a golden rule in your odd but stable relationship. even if you get pissed off with each other at work, you leave it at base until the next shift…
so apparently the boys must have fucking amnesia.
this wasn’t the first time you had angered them at work but like previously stated, it never followed you in through the front door, take its shoes off and hang its coat. never in the house
but this time you put not only your life at risk, but also civilian lives. just to save them. luckily, no one was hurt but you still disobeyed your captains orders. and just like you leave work at work, you leave your heart at home too
he was still your captain. actions have consequences so he yelled on about for a good hour whilst the others stood beside him, shaking their heads at you disapprovingly
so when you got home to find that they were clearly still in work mode judging from the way simon shrugged you off when you tried to hug him in the kitchen, stalking off to the shower and slamming the door
or from the way johnny and kyle just went straight into the garage to work out and blow off some steam, giving john a kiss and not you
and if that wasn’t enough, the way john turned his head away from you when you tried to kiss him had to be the damning evidence. his face was stone cold the entire time he was alone with you in the kitchen before he went and locked himself in the home office
it went on like that for a few days, waking up to find that they had gone out without you. conversations ceasing the moment you enter the room. the lack of affection was the worst. perhaps tied with the general loneliness. none of them had really said a word to you in days
not even when you grabbed a pillow and blanket and set up camp in the living room for the night after a week of the silent treatment
or when they heard you crying in the bathroom whilst getting ready for bed, wondering how long it will be before your lovers open their arms for you again, if they ever will…
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sirenmoth · 1 day
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Gone Soft
Jake Lockey X reader
Masterlist
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Summery: You give Jake Lockley a task he is less than thrilled about.
Warnings: Couple brief references to rough sex.
********************
“Ow!”
“I’m sorry! You know I don’t like doing this.”
You laid on the bed you shared with Jake while he straddled you, leaning over. His face was furrowed into a frown. 
“I know, but I can’t do it either!”
You had tasked Jake with plucking your eyebrows, unable to do it yourself.
“C’mon, keep going!” You coax him. “Beauty is pain!” You smile up at him.
He sighed. “You’re beautiful the way you are, it doesn’t have to be painful.” He plucked a few between your eyebrows, and planted a kiss when you winced.
You kiss Jake’s perfectly large nose while his face was close enough. “Men always say that, but you have no idea how I look with all this” You circle your face, inferring all the routines you do to try and keep up appearances. 
“I don’t care about that, mi vida.” Jake sat up, smoothing out your eyebrows, tender touch over the red skin.
“Can you keep going please? You always make them so much more even” You pouted up at his beautiful face.
Jake shook his head, but smiled, going back to work.
You continue to tease him. “Funny how you throw a fit about plucking my eyebrows, but you’ll choke me within an inch of my life in bed”
Jake burst into a rare bout of giggles, touching his forehead to yours, eyes closed shut as he cringed. “Well, you don’t have to phrase it like that.”
You laughed with him, taking the moment to feel his curls and revel in his breath against your face. 
When his laughs subsided, he brushed your hair from your face, scanning your eyebrows. “Almost done mi sol, I promise”
Jake tried to be as careful as possible, but stilled as he saw a tear run down your face. “Amor! That’s it.” He sat back, putting down the tweezers. 
“No Jake!” You pleaded “C’mon, I just have a sensitive face!”
“That’s not a thing!” He insisted, voice a few octaves higher than usual. “I’ll pay for you to get your eyebrows waxed from now on, if it’s that important to you.”
“I can’t get my eyebrows waxed, Jakey, my acne medicine makes my face too sensitive, the wax strips tear my skin off!”
Jake’s face softened. “I don’t like making you cry, amor.”
“Babe.” You gave him a pointed look. “I was literally crying with your dick down my throat last night.”
He considered your words, then smiled. “Fine, but next time we’re finding numbing cream to help.”
You pull him close, taking his perfect lips in a loving kiss. “Thank you, amor.”
Jake went back to work on the last few hairs, kissing over every bit of skin he had to hurt.
When he was done, Jake sat up, pretending to whip his brow with a ‘whew!’. He took your chin in his hand, turning your face as he checked his work. He didn’t like doing this, but he was nothing if not thorough. “Bonita!”
You sit up, taking him in a tight hug as you squeal. “Thank you Jakey!”
You feel him turn, looking over to the side and frown. You follow his eyeline, frowning as well when you don’t see him looking at a mirror. You knew who he was talking to. 
“Khonshu?” You ask, holding him tighter. You weren’t afraid of Khonshu, but you knew the effect he had on Jake. You couldn’t do anything about the Moon Knight situation, but you could be their support when they needed you.
Jake turned back to you with a kiss. “He’s gone now.”
“What did he say?” You feel the strong muscles of his back, holding tightly to him.
“He said I’ve gone soft.” Jake buried his face in your neck, smelling your shampoo and taking in your scent.
“And have you?”
Jake held your face in his hands, kissing your forehead, the crease between your eyebrows, your nose, and finally your lips. “For you? Most definitely.”
****************
Ive been in a soft! Jake lockley moon these days, what can I say!
Im tagging a few people I thought might enjoy, but if you'd like to be tagged in all my moon knight fics, comment here!
@lucianadraven32 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @milkymoon2483 @itspdameronthings
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sirenmoth · 1 day
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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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no, the answer will always be no
There are currently ~2300 works in AO3 tagged with "Created Using Generative AI"
I'll be upfront with my opinion, which mirrors my opinion in regards to my field: using AI will only hasten your own obsolescence. The point of fanfiction is not to crank out fics, but rather to enjoy the hobby and communities of writing and fandom.
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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They seem to really like (Y/N)!
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top 10 pictures taken before dissaster
(Got the idea to draw this after randomly acknowledging the fact that Pyramid Head has this other design hshs)
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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"Only for you, darlin'"
Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).
Word count: 1.0K
Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)
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Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.
His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.
He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up. 
Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.
“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”
“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.
“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.
“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.” 
Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”
“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”
“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.
Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?
“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.
A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.
“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.
“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure. 
“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.
He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.
He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.
Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.
“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.
“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.
“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.
Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.
“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.
“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.
“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him. 
“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.
“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.
“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”
“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.
“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.
-
AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.
I hope you enjoyed reading!
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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Night Time Aid
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WARNING: MDNI, smut
You were tossing and turning, frustrated that you couldn’t fall asleep. Your nightgown felt constricting the more you moved and the heat radiating off of cooper wasn’t helping much either. You hadn’t realized cooper had woken up until his arm tightened around you.
“Go back to bed baby, I’m sorry I woke you up” you grumbled as you yawned and rubbed your eyes trying to get out of his grip. Your attempt was useless because he kept inching closer.
“I’m not going back to sleep until I know your sleeping” he murmured and pushed his face into the skin of your neck. He suddenly detached from you and sat up.
“I have an idea” he said a grin growing on his face as he pulled you up with him. He dragged you out of bed and guided you to the living room. He pushed you onto the recliner and you let him, curious about what his idea was.
He grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, put it to a channel with some documentary on. He threw the remote somewhere and then dropped to his knees, “what are you doing?” you asked him.
“I’m going to help fix your little problem, just relax and watch what’s on the tv” he said and then he pulled up your nightgown and he got to work.
Mouth finding your clit instantly and sucking hard. You gasped at the sensation, your hand moving to grab onto the arms of the chair to steady yourself.
The light of the tv illuminated the both of you in a low blue light. You looked down to watch what cooper was doing and he met your gaze.
He opened his mouth and licked up what was leaking out of your cunt. “Keep your focus on the screen don’t focus on me honey” he said before closing his mouth around your clit again and humming at the taste.
You tried bucking your hips into his face but he pinned your hips down with one arm. You couldn’t even focus on what was on the screen, your eyes felt too heavy.
He abruptly stopped sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you. He rests his head on the top of your thigh.
“My poor little love needs to relax, that’s why I’m here sweetheart. So I can help you shut your brain off” he cooed his fingers crooking upward into the spongy tissue.
You tighten up at the feeling and he chuckles. “Look at you” he cooed. You looked down to see his smiling face. “You look so relaxed already, good girl” he said.
He took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth humming at the taste. You looked at him puzzled the pleasure you were feeling was ebbing away.
“Don’t look so disappointed sweetheart, I promise you everything is going to feel so good.” He said reassuringly.
And then he got back to work rubbing your clit slowly before insirting two fingers in again. You hummed throwing your head back relishing in the pleasure you were feeling.
“She is so needy isn’t she?” he asked and you looked at him not really understanding what he was getting at. He continues, “your pussy, she’s very needy and demanding isn’t she sweetheart??
You nod feeling goosebumps spread at his words and the way everything feels. The first inkling of a warning that your orgasm was coming startled you.
You were enjoying the constant pleasure that you didn’t want it to end. Cooper smirked knowingly, he always knew when you were starting to get close even before you knew.
“Let go sweetie, you’ll feel so much better afterward” he murmured before reattaching his mouth to your clit and curling his fingers hard.
He hummed against the flesh, the sensation made you eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure and movement of his fingers against your upper wall felt like too much.
It was inevitable, you cum seconds later and it’s intense. You inhale a sharp breathe, convulsing against his mouth and fingers. He doesn’t let up until he knows your fully spent and stops when overstimulation starts to seep in.
The both of you catch your breath, the tv playing in the background. There’s a coral reef and colorful fish on screen, the both of you look in silence before he grabs the remote from the floor and turns the tv off.
He turns to you, a lazy grin on his face. “You look so much more relaxed honey, let’s get you to bed” he said before pulling you to stand with him.
He brings you back to bed after cleaning you up. He was pressing kisses into your skin and telling you how much of a good girl you were and how much he loved you.
“I wouldn’t mind being between your legs every time you have trouble falling asleep” he murmured into your hair and you giggled at the comment.
He started rubbing slow soothing circles into your back. It only took a couple of minutes for you to fall asleep with your head cradled against his chest.
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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Look fangirling over the ghoul as a ghoul is sooooooo easssyyyyy. Like no shit y'all like chaotic neutral cowboy but I don't see any of u having the same energy for him pre war. Like bro goodie toe shoes actor cowboy wife guy good dad SIR. That black suit during that wrap party with his shirt un buttoned with a cig and a drink. Like Hehehhehhh <3 he wants to take his dog into the vault!!! He denies himself getting attached to the other dog bc she's not his old dog!!!! I think people need to value the resting and beaten down nice man he used to be and not just stamp him as a hot asshole. He is and his current shit horrid self isn't waved away just bc he used to be a good person but I just want more pre war fan edits. I want hot pics of AAALLLLL of him. I love allll of him.
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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gaz 👍
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sirenmoth · 2 days
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love how chet looks like a lost awkward wet puppy the entire time he’s on screen and goes along with basically anything, even steph’s insane ass when SHE PLANS TO FUCK HIM WHILE MAKING HIM WEAR HER DEAD HUSBANDS CLOTHES and even after she gives birth STILL THINKS CHET IS HER DEAD HUSBAND and is clearly suffering from shock and denial about her husbands death CHET STILL GOES ALONG WITH IT!!
we need to protect chet
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