#and i can still feel the fucking roaches on my skin
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#a wonderful day turned into a horrific night#i am freaking out#i was staying with a friend#a really good friend and i love them so much#i truly do but their home is infested and I don’t do well with bugs#i tried my hardest to spend the night but there were bugs all over me and i just couldn’t take it#and it was freaking me out#to the point where i think i had a panic attack#so i ordered a uber to go home#in the middle of the night#and i can still feel the fucking roaches on my skin#and I’m breathing real hard in my uber trying to keep it together#and i feel so awful about it#bc i didn’t wake them up to tell them i was leaving#i was honestly just thinking about escape#but i know it’s gonna hurt their feelings which i don’t want to do#but i just can’t sleep in a place where bugs are gonna crawl all over me like#one of my biggest fears is a bug crawling inside my body via my ears or nostrils or whatever#so i just ran#and i feel like that makes me a bad person…#i’m just having a really bad night rn#and could use a hug or three
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Always Under Skin, Even When it Gets Removed
Yandere! Childe x Reader
Part of {Mai Playlist}
Childe was a nuisance. Persistent. A vermin. Childe was a pest. Like an infestation of roaches, you could do everything in your power to get rid of him, but he'd still be somewhere nearby. Determination was one of his strongest traits, and he was determined to ruin you.
Being married to him was never in your cards and if you could've never met him at all, you would've been happy. Yet for almost a year, you were forced to be his doting wife. Only managing to steal yourself away after months of planning and a few close calls. The taste of free air, even if it was the air of Snezhnaya, was the best thing on your tongue, better than even your favorite food cooked to perfection.
You didn't think you'd live the life of a nomad, but it seemed easier. Paranoia was second nature to you now, and staying in one place seemed dangerous. He could be anywhere, around any corner, close by, but not showing himself until he knew it would fuck you over. Was living life on the road considered freedom? You didn't know, but anything would be better than another day with Childe.
“How far will this take me?” You held up a good ring to a carriage driver, making sure to keep your face covered beneath your hood. You took a lot when you left, mostly jewelry, things that were small and expensive.
He eyes the ring over before dropping it back into the palm of your hand, “It'll get you pretty far, but where are you even trying to go?”
“Anywhere is fine,” you said quickly.
The man helped you up into the back of his wagon, where he kept his wares. Mostly agricultural things, fresh produce and hay. It wasn't the best place you'd ridden before, but it was far from being the worst.
You understood why people were weary of you. You weren't making much of an effort to not come off as strange, but you weren't out to make friends. The wagon swayed as the sun began to set over the horizon, he didn't tell you how long he'd be driving and quite honestly, you didn't care. At the next port, you'd stow yourself away onto some other vehicle, never stopping, not even for a breath.
You let your head rest back against the hard wooden wall, you let your arms fall to your side, you let the movement of the wagon sway you to sleep. Morning would come and you'd be awoken by the well-known feeling of the carriage lurching to a stop and sunlight beaming through the cracks in the wall. Outside sounded like a bustling city, although you didn't know where, quite honestly it didn't matter.
“It's back here, sir,” you heard the voice of the carriage driver say as you watched shadows fall over the doorway. You can recognize Childe. Recognize his smell, his voice, a strand of his hair if you were to find one, and most importantly, you could recognize his footsteps. Slow, drawn out, and precise. Your blood went cold, noticing that the driver wasn't walking alone.
The door was slammed open and before you could even make a break for it, cold metal was pressed to your neck. Sharp enough to slice your head right off your body if you made any sudden moves, you could already feel the steel biting into your skin.
“Already running away again?” You didn't even want to look at him, but he used the tip of his blade to tilt your head up. Still wearing a smile as he looked down upon you, “I will admit, I'm proud of you. You managed to stay away longer than I expected,” the blade pushed a lot harder into your neck, “I missed you, my angel.”
You could say nothing as he took you by the hand, pulling you from the cart and onto the ground. You weren't treated gently, not when he was angry. His anger was a menace to deal with. The bigger the smile, the words his rage, and he looked practically elated to see you.
“You took everything, but this,” he tossed your wedding band down, it fell onto your body and landed on your thighs. The ring was warm, like he'd been clutching it in his hand. Knowing him, he probably hadn't let it go since he discovered you were gone.
Without much of an argument, you slipped the ring back on your finger. The small band felt more like a shackle, than something meant to adorn your body. With it, your taste of delicious, true freedom was ripped from your mouth almost as quickly as you'd gotten it. But you'd never get to taste it again.
Childe was all smiles and laughter as he helped you into his own carriage. That smile not reaching his dead, hollow eyes. The ride to Snezhnaya would be a long one, you wonder how long he could contain his anger till then?
#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe#genshin childe x reader
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"Safe and sound"
(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)
Summary: after being caught and claimed by the executioner, Silent Hill became a rather tranquil for you. However, a one particular entity, or rather entities, of this town kept bugging you anyways... Pun no intended.
Warning: mention of bugs and/or insects crawl on (Y/N)(?)
World count: 1.2k (kinda short ik hshalsdha)
(sorry if this is freaky, but I literaly dreamed about something similar and I just had to write it down hahdajkdha)
Waking up in this place is a bittersweet experience, on one hand, it's nice to wake up with some extra energy to tolerate the surrounding nonsense, but on the other one, it hurts and sucks to realize that one is still trapped in this hellhole. And today, (Y/N) woke up with the negative thought, but the sight of the broad muscular chest of their lover made their 'morning' a bit better, and also more flustering.
The shift from sleepy and grumpy to shy and akward seemed to amuse the beast, as he let out an low rumble, which resembled a purr.
—"Y-Yeah yeah... Good morning to you too."— you say a bit shy, looking away and gripping his clothes.
Though they don't look away for too long, because soon a large hand grabs their jaw and moves their head just enough for Pyra to see their face. Oh how much he adored that flustered and innocent expression of theirs, a great contrast from the faces of pain and horror he've seen on his daily basis before meeting (and then pursuing) (Y/N).
The mentioned person simply stares back at his massive metal helmet, slowly and involuntarily melting into his warm touch.
—"Do you really like to stare at my face so much?"—
As an answer, Pyra gives them a little squeeze on their cheeks and let out another low amused purr when (Y/N) tries to pull away.
—"He-Hey! Nyo, shtop!"—
Pyra messes with them for a bit longer, clearly enjoying to see them getting upset as they speak funny. This little playfight ends up with the beast wrapping his arms around his little human and pulling them back against his torso, letting them know that he's not ready to let them go, not just yet.
(Y/N) simply sighs and accepts their fate, this is still better than having their face licked and end up with saliva all over it. They start to get comfortable but...
—"Ah...- Aah-!"— you yelp suddenly as your body shivers violently.
Pyra instantly let go of them, allowing (Y/N) to sit up and put their hand underneath their shirt to then pull it out, holding...
A creeper.
That goddamn stupid roach-
—"AGH! For fuck's sake!"— you exclaim as you throw the insect against a wall.
Call this animal cruelty or whatever, but when these little shits keep crawling under your clothes and shirt every damn time you lay down and doze off for a moment, one kinda becomes annoyed with it. And feel their insect limbs and scaly body cling and brush against your soft skin or make the low hissing noises whenever you try to pull them away is straight up disgusting! Ew!
(Y/N) then lift their shirt, to make sure they spot any sneaky ones, and of course there is another one because life sucks. Yet this one resulted to be more stubborn.
—"Ugh, just get off! Is there really no other creature whose warmth you could leach on?!"— you grumble angrily as you try to shake the insect away, yet it kept clinging to your sleeve tightly.
Thankfully their struggles didn't last long, a single growl from the massive beast was enough to set the little roach-like thing into flee, quickly crawling away from them and disappearing into a random crack on the wall.
After a second check and coming out clean, (Y/N) let out a relieved sigh as they fix their clothes a bit.
—"Thanks... Sorry for the yelling, but I'm just tired of waking up with these little shits on me."— you admit tiredly. —"I mean, I'm no snowflake and definetely can handle them crawling on me, but when they go under my shirt..."— you instinctively shiver after mentioning that.
Pyra does nothing at first, not even a movement or a sound. (Y/N) knows that sometimes he goes into this stiff position, and it never fails to kinda freak them out because it's impossible to tell if he's thinking or holding back his anger.
He eventually moves, which caused them to flinch a bit because it was way too sudden. Pyra then began to slowly uncover his torso by opening the upper part of his vest while (Y/N) simply stares at him with a confused and kinda concerned expression, oh god don't tell his possesion over them made him feel lustful again-.
Luckly, Pyra seems not interested in any heated activities (for now). He remains completely still again with his vest opened, revealing his torso all the way down to his toned and scarred abdomen as he 'stares' back at (Y/N), like expecting them to do something.
They remain quiet and hesitant, eyes flickering between his torso and his helmet until it finally clicks.
—"Hold up... You want me to get in there?"— you raise your brow.
A metallic clank resonated from Pyra as he tilts his helmet slightly, movement resembling a nod. (Y/N) blinks a couple of times before doing as told, they're not sure what Pyra's plan is but they won't question it, and if he wanted to take them he'd ripped off their clothes a while ago-.
They slowly slide inside of his vest, their body getting a little spine chill at the sudden warmth of the beast's bare skin, it feels even warmer when exposed. They settle down, their head resting on his chest and their body slightly curled in a ball. The monster then closes his vest, wrapping the clothes around (Y/N) and keeping it closed with his arms wrapped around their smaller form.
Do you know how an owner sometimes let their cat hand out inside of their shirt? Well this is basically the same, but instead of the owner and a cat, it's a giant piramid headed beast and his little lovely human (Y/N).
Despite how weird of an idea it may seem, this is incredibly comfortable and cozy, (Y/N) just can't help but to nuzzle into Pyra's chest as they let out a content hum.
—"Not gonna lie, that's a very clever idea."— you momentarily stop nuzzling, then give a small kiss on one of his pecs before comfortably settling in place again. —"Thank you, really."—
A pleased rumble resonated from Pyra's helmet, making his chest and (Y/N) vibrate a bit. They slowly start to doze off again, and the little gentle nuzzling from the beast against their back isn't making their task to stay awake any easier. The sound of his breathing also resulted incredibly soothing, the way his chest raise and fall with each large breath he takes only lulls them further into sleep.
They feel one large hand slide up and rest in the back of their head, pressing them further against him in a protective manner. They involuntarely smile, childishly grin at the though of them being the only living thing to ever witness and experience this side of the fearsome executioner, who will do anything to keep other creatures away from them, him being the one and only allowed to be this close to (Y/N).
A sane mind would tell that such obsession and posessiveness is absolutely awful, but who said (Y/N) is sane? They lost it the moment they accepted to be taken away by the monster, or maybe they never even had any sanity in the first place! Who knows? Who cares? They surely not, not when they can enjoy being in the beast's arms, bathing in his warmth, listening his heartbeat...
Being kept truly safe and sound.
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ALSO if roachs womb signature is fae magic,, when he meets up with ghost or the other guys by chance with bookworm (his darling) dO THEY STEAL HIS IDEA??? AND like imagine price somehow hearing this idea and just drifts off into a daydream about his Witch having a *permanent* mark of him, and not even that but its his NAME? duuude hes just gone
*gripping your shoulders and gritting my teeth* do you have any idea how badly I want to give Witch a womb tattoo. Do you have any idea how fucking feral I am for this woman? How feral Price is for her???? GOD
"You're all caged up again," Price tells you looking over the spread you'd laid out this morning. A full tableau of Lenormand, it's a new moon and you'd like to see what coming. You hum, stirring an extra spoon of honey into your ginger tea.
"Correct," you tell him, let him fill in the rest since he's so- You take a breath to steady your thoughts, there's no need to snap over a little concern. "It's that time of the month," you sigh, "don't want anything sniffing me out."
"Blood and magic," Price agrees, "better safe than sorry." He goes back to inspecting your cards. You hardly think he knows what he's looking at, parsing the spiral can make even you a little dizzy.
You assume that's the end of that and go back to your tea. The magical cage you put yourself in makes you a little nauseous the first day, easy enough to remedy. Your lips twitch into a frown as your spell work shifts. The ashen paint and runes moving like snakes against your skin. You don't like that one bit. You turn to look at Price who has his hand raised, his finger stilled in the air at your glaring.
"Don't," you warn him, your skin burning with foreign magic.
"I can help," he promises and you go to stand in front of him. You grip his chin, tip his head back to look at you, his hands grip your hips, thumbs digging into your stomach and rubbing out the ache of cramps.
"I don't need help," you tell him sternly.
"You're all caged up when I can just-" he presses his palm bellow your belly button and your stomach jumps. Heat swims through you, scorches over you really, all your seals forgotten in favor of clutching at Price's shoulders and shuddering. He smooths his hand around to hold your back, tug you close to press his face against you. You can hear the heavy inhale of his breathing, smelling you, smelling whatever he did. "God," he breathes, "you are going to hate this."
"What did you do?" Your suspicion seems to break whatever spell is over him. Price lets you go, leans back and waves a hand.
"Temporary measure, don't worry," that makes you more worried actually, "better than your cage, prettier too."
You don't waste time trying to parse what he means, you go to your bedroom and strip. It's hard to miss. All your previous marks seem to have consolidated themselves over your pelvis. Sigils loop over your womb, spreading up your hips like the limbs of a tree to spell out Price's name. You could kill him. You might kill him. It's weird that your cramps are gone.
You glare at Price's mark. You can feel his magic hugging you, the tendrils of it stroking your muscles. You wonder if he's siphoning off the pain, if he's eating your magic through whatever he's drawn on you. You don't bother getting dressed when you storm out to confront him. Better to do this on unequal footing you think.
#cod x reader#x reader#cod x oc#x oc#1fae1#john price#john price mw2#john price x reader#captain john price#john price x oc#captain price x reader#captain price cod#captain price mw2#captain price#fae!price#oc: witch#tw periods#f!reader#afab!reader#price as soon as he sees witch with his mark: whatever you say beautiful im not arguing with you
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I forgot to ask in my earlier ask- could you do bondage and overstimulation with Sanemi as well?
(gn reader or male pls :D)
-🪳 roach anon
YESSSSS SANEMI IS SO YUMMY <3 ur reqs are always the best
🥀Cw: M reader, sub sanemi, smut, bondage, overstimulation, reader switces from being rough to a soft dom
🥀minors dni
the two of you had spoken about bondage before, yet had never really been inclined to try it. all day you had been waiting to show sanemi the new surprise you had gotten, and you practically dragged him to the bedroom as the sun set. your hands were tangled in his hair as both of your tongues battled for dominance, hips grinding against eachother as you both stumbled towards the bed.
Sanemi gasped as his back hit the mattress, cheeks flushed as he looked up at you with wide eyes. his shirt had long since been discarded in your heated makeout session, and he looked delectable sprawled out on your bed. you straddle him, grinding down on his semi-hard cock as you brandish your new toy.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he spat, eyeing the red rope in your hands carefully. you giggle, pinning his hands above his head and carefully circling his wrists with the thick red rope. sanemi squirms, jolting when you tighten the makeshift cuffs around his hands.
"just relax nemi, i promise it'll make you feel good," you coo, tracing circles on his chest. "if it gets too uncomfortable, just use your safeword, okay?" sanemi nods, yet shifts around defiantly as you finish tying him down, attaching the rope to the headboard. you make eye contact with him, grinning as he glares at you. you settle yourself on his lap, grinding down slowly and deliberately as you feel his cock twitch below you.
you lean down, capturing his lips in a messy kiss. one of your hands moves to grab his neck, roughly holding him in place as your tongues swirl against eachother. sanemi moans into the kiss, hips rocking upwards as you move your other hand to his chest. you grab his nipple, squeezing the sensitive nub harshly, making him gasp and shudder. his arms twist in the binding above his head but the ropes don't budge, and you slowly began to kiss down his jawline. you press sloppy kisses down his jaw and to his throat, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. sanemi groans below you, gasping when you suck a deep hickey just below his ear, making his adams apple bob against your palm and his jaw clench.
"shit- can you fucking hurry up?" sanemi hisses, breath coming in short gasps as you pressed a kiss over the fresh mark on his skin. "no, i don't think i will," you whisper in his ear, grabbing his nipple and twisting it roughly. sanemi lets out a pathetic moan, keening as his wrists strain above him. the hand on his neck moved down to his other nipple as you palm his chest, roughly kneading the mounds and pushing down on his sensitive buds. sanemi gasps again, throwing his head back as you begin to mark his neck some more. a wet spot begins to form in his pants as precum weeps from his tip, the stimulation already making his orgasm approach.
you bite down on the skin above his collar bone as he squirms beneath you, hips jolting sporadically as you continue your assault on his neck and chest. his unfiltered moans alert you to his approaching clinax, and you freeze. suddenly you stop, pulling away and climbing off of him. sanemi groans as your warmth disappears, the coil in his abdomen fading as his hips rise off the bed, still chasing release. you hastily shed your own clothes and remove his pants and undergarments as sanemi pants beneath you. every time your hands brush his skin he feels as though electricity jolts through his entire body, and the way your eyes study every line of his figure makes his cock twitch.
you grab some lube from your nightstand, smearing a generous amount on your fingers and positioning yourself below him. you spread his legs, his dick resting against his abdomen as you gently fondle the soft plush of his ass. sanemi hisses as your fingers prod his rim, and you look up at him for approval. he nods slowly, and you begin to pump your finger inside him, stretching him out. sanemi let out a soft groan at the intrusion, throwing his head back and cursing loudly as you add in a second finger.
"fuuc-ngh-" sanemi let out a choked moan, thighs spreading subconsciously as his hips jerked towards your hand. you slowly added in a third finger, stretching out his gummy walls until he was gasping below you, the ropes around his wrists leaving harsh marks on his skin. you continue fucking him on your fingers, watching as his composure slowly bgean to unravel. sanemi's hair was a tousled mess, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet as he panted and whined with every movement you made inside him. the pads of your fingers prodded a place that had him seeing stars, and he let out a wanton moan as he felt his orgasm begin to build.
he strained at the bonds holding him down as you pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, licking his shaft slowly as you continued pumping your fingers. the coil in his abdomen began to tighten as his release built to a devastating peak, his eyes squeezing shut as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. his release coated his stomach and thighs as he cane down from his high, and you slowly removed your fingers. you were growing painfully hard simply by watching his pleasure, and you settled yourself on top of him. sanemi looked up at you through thick white lashes, eyes glossy with pleasure.
"don't you dare stop now," he grows, the desperation evident in his voice. he was already hard again and you smirk, snaking one hand down to pump yourself a few times before aligning yourself with his hole.
"don't hold back," he whispered breathlessly, his eyes glittering with lust. you could only nod as you rubbed yourself against his ass, rocking against him before bottoming out inside him. sanemi let out an exquisite moan, gasping as you slipped in so easily.
"fuck-" you gasp, hands snapping to his waist as you start off at a brutal pace. carnal desire replaces any restraint you had before and sanemi lets out a sob of pleasure, hands clawing at the pillows above his head as he struggles against the rope holding him.
"can i- can i move your legs up?" you ask, and all sanemi can do is nod in reply. you chuckle at his eagerness, lifting his thighs and throwing both legs over your shoulder so you have him in a mating press. the new position allows you to go even deeper and sanemi wails in pleasure, tears brimming on his lashline as your cock abuses his prostate. his cock is slapping against his stomach with every thrust as he pants, eyes rolling back into his head as you keep up the brutal pace. you can feel your own orgasm growing too, and you wrap your hand around his neglected cock. you lean down to kiss his neck and collarbone, pumping him alongside your thrusts.
"cum for me baby," you whisper in his ear, and sanemi lets out a final pornographic moan as his whole body tenses in pleasure. he sobs, cum spurting from his tip and soiling the both of you as he clenches tightly around you. your own high washes over you and you thrust a few more times, prolonging both of your orgasms until your gasping. you collapse beside him, reaching up to quickly untie his wrists. sanemi grumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck once freed.
"you okay baby?" you ask, gently pressing kisses to each of his wrists. there are rope burns on his skin, and he looks exhausted.
"mhm, 'm fine" he mumbles, curling again you as you gently brush the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. you chuckle as his nose crinkles in response, and you cup his face with your hands and press a kiss to his lip. sanemi mumbles something, turning away in embarrassment as you look at him inquisitively.
"what was that, baby?"
"shut the fuck up asshole."
"i love you too Nemi~"
this got super long so yea <\\3 (how do i start smut help) this got so long so yea- ANYWAY HOPE U ENJOYED SEND IN MOREEEEEE REQS HEHEE
#sanemi smut#sanemi x reader#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi#kny sanemi#sub sanemi#sub sanemi x reader#sanemi x y/n#sanemi x you#kny x y/n#kny x you#kny x male reader#kny x reader#kny smut#sub!kny#sub kny#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x male reader#sub!demon slayer#sub demon slayer
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fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.
Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore.
So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.
Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie. Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game.
Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.
“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.”
“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.
You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.
“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?”
It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really. Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?”
He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it.
“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders.
“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon.
“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.
“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest. You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.
Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.
“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.”
Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side, held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?
He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.”
When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey.
“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.
“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice.
Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.
“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off.
“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!”
He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist.
“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.”
Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.”
-
Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you
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A ppart five of love potion where Soap is forced to watch Simon "serve" Roba?
That is so horrendous and terrible, anon I will literally kiss you on the lips from how much I love this
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Ghost knew that Soap and Roach were up to something. Whatever it was, it didn’t involve him as far as he could tell. He was tired. So tired. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while.
That’s why he fell asleep while with his Lady. She had been riding him and he had stepped away from himself like always. As long as she enjoyed herself, that was the important part. Who cared if he drifted away as long as his body stayed… interested?
Ghost felt the sting of the slap. She started to curse in her language and jumped off of him.
He went to get up, to apologize and take his leave to giver her space, but she shoved him hard on to the bed.
“Stay right there. I have told Roba that running you ragged ruins you. Your performance is pathetic.” She sounded so angry but there was a tinge of concern. Pilar was always the nicer of them and he dimly hoped that maybe this was one of the rare times she stuck up for him. “Stay here for the day. Sleep.”
Ghost swallowed. “Thank you.”
Pilar scoffed, but she softened just a little. Ghost felt his heart do something funny. It wasn’t like with Soap or Roach. It felt less like his heart fluttered and more that someone ripped into his chest and squeezed his heart.
“I said sleep.”
Ghost smiled slightly but his eyes drifted close. After a week of nothing, it was too easy.
Pilar put her head on his chest as they laid together.
Roba came back from his time away and, despite how nice Pilar was about it, she still had him whipped. He had Ghost kneel down on the floor. “Shame I can’t do this in front of everyone. Your appearance is just too different though. Even if I cut off those fucking ears, they’ll still be able to tell.”
Roba kissed the whip before striking his back. Ghost closed his eyes as pain lanced through that mark. Blood dripped as his skin just tore.
“You still haven’t found that thing in the woods.” He hit him again, the leather going straight through Ghost. Ghost forced himself to make a small pained sound. If he was quiet, Roba would try to hit him harder or would escalate it. Better to give him what he wants.
“There ya go, sweetheart. Remember this next time you fail, yeah?” He hit him again. And again.
Ghost made a noise every so often, but honestly? The pain wasn’t much anymore. Blood spilled and he knew he’d start to feel light headed soon.
He loved them.
He loved Roba so much.
Sometimes, it hurt that they were so much nicer to each other than him.
When was the last time he had felt… loved?
Ghost let out a sob in to the otherwise silent room and there was a pause. Roba let the leather of the whip trail against his open wounds. “Oh, sweetheart.”
No.
No, no, no,no, no,no,noooo,no.
“Poor thing. Stay on your knees.” Roba patted his face. “Feeling lonely lately? Surrounded by us vile humans? Unable to even talk about yourself? Must be terrible.”
Ghost glared up at him. He hadn’t felt so alone recently. Honestly. Things had become easier with Johnny and Roach.
A knock.
It was so loud.
Roba looked displeased as he crossed the room to the door. He opened it slightly and looked inside. “MacTavish.”
“Hello, sir. I haven’t been able to find Ghost. We’re supposed to go out tonight to hunt for the creature.”
Roba looked back at Ghost before glancing at MacTavish. “Can you keep a secret?”
“I… I can, sir.”
“Come in.”
Ghost felt himself deflate. No… No…
Soap walked in and he could hear how his heart picked up.
“My prized possession.” Roba spoke softly. “He’s freshly punished, so he won’t have his usual wit about him. It’s how I prefer him honestly.” He yanked him back by his hair. “Would you like a lesson over elves?”
“I know how to kill them. I feel that’s enough.” Soap sounded nervous.
Roba hummed. “Their mouths are sharp. Not just their teeth, even the flesh of their tongue. It’s textured. Not the best for oral, which is a real disappointment.” He shoved his fingers into Ghost’s mouth, holding his head. “A masochist might like it. You a masochist?”
“No, sir.”
“Shame.” Roba backhanded Ghost who let out a soft groan. He spit up a mix of blood and saliva at his Lord’s feet. “Might finally have a use for that mouth.” He grabbed Ghost’s chin and held him tight. “Guess not. But trust me, they have plenty of other uses.”
Soap walked around him, trying to look at Ghost’s face he assumed. He wished he wouldn’t. This was humiliating enough. Truly. “That so, sir?” His voice was tight as he stared down at him.
“Sir, please. This is unnecessary. I can put my gear on and go back out.” Ghost swallowed. “I’ll find it this time.”
Roba stared at him before yanking him around but his hair. “Did i ask elf? No. I didn’t. One day I’ll cut that tongue of yours out. You barely speak anyway.” He glanced at Soap and then Pilar.
Ghost looked at him, blood still dripping from all the broken skin.
Roba put him on the bed, all gentle like. Lovers. Even prepped him. Trying to put on a show for his captive audience no doubt.
Ghost pleaded to him quietly to please dismiss Soap first. He was his superior. This was awful. Please, do anything else just don’t do this. Let him have a little dignity.
Roba put his hand around his throat. “Shut. Up.”
Ghost buried his face in the bed and tried to be silent. To disappear and never ever be seen again.
Soap swallowed so loudly he could hear it over Roba’s grunting. “Can i?..”
“Yes.”
Ghost felt fingers card through his hair. So gentle and sweet.
“Simon. A little effort, yeah?”
Ghost shivered and made fake whimpers into the bedding. He looked at Soap and they accidentally made eye contact. It was so intense.
Soap let out a breath. Pity.
Ghost wanted to cry. He instead glared at Soap before burying his face back into the sheets as he serviced Roba. His hips rocked back and he tried His best to speed this process up.
Soap ran his fingers along his cheek and Ghost bit him, sinking his teeth into the kind flesh that wished to be nice to him. Soap didn’t pull away, instead letting him keep his teeth into him.
“Barely even sentient. A step above an animal.” Roba smiled. “You’re not allowed to touch him like this. But you can watch. You’re clearly enjoying it.”
Ghost looked up to see Soap was, in fact, fucking hard. From his humiliation. Humans were awful.
They were cruel.
And fucking sadists.
“You can get off.”
“No, thank you, sir.” Soap wouldn’t look at Ghost’s eyes now.
Roba continued to fuck him until he finished. He pulled out and fixed his pants. “Simon. Get up and get clean. Then put on your armor and find that fucking monster.” He slapped his ass hard and Ghost wasn’t sure he could get anymore red.
Pilar and Roba left and it was quiet for a while before Soap started moving. He cleaned up the wounds on his back silently. “Im sorry… i didn’t… i didn’t mean.”
“Shut up. You got off on it didn’t you?”
“No! Its not like that! I sweat just…”
“You find it sexually attractive. Me being fucking degrading.”
Soap winced. “No. Sorry i didn’t mean to react to it, just… you’re attractive but i swear its not… i don’t…”
Ghost stood up, feeling such an intense pain everywhere. His back. His fucking… He grabbed the bed to keep himself steady. “Just give me my fucking clothes.”
Soap handed them to him. “I really… I’m sorry.”
“Shut up. Let’s just fucking go.”
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod mw2#ghostsoap#cod#soapghost#ghoap#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish
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daddy, please
word count: 935, warnings/kinks: toxic harddom!heeseung, sub!reader, language, unprotected sex, post breakup sex, degradation, praise, pet names, daddy kink, spanking, creampie, LOTS of cum, pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!
you couldn't believe it. heeseung hit you up talking about how much he missed the way you felt around him, tight and taking him in like you were made for him.
it hurt you, yet you still thought about him every second of the day. ridiculous, but he was so fucking addictive. you didn't even resist when he asked to come over so he can have his way with you.
your face was buried in the pillows, makeup running down your face and staining the pillow case. you were already a mess, two orgasms in and heeseung was still fucking you while sensitive.
your face was buried in the pillows, makeup running down your face and staining the pillow case. you were already a mess, two orgasms in and heeseung was still fucking you while sensitive.
his actions were driving you nuts, but nothing compared to his filthy fucking mouth— saying quite literally anything possible.
"sweet little cunt was made for me sweetheart," heeseung growled in your ear. his cock was splitting you open easily and he knew you wanted so much more, "you love my fat cock stretching you out, don't cha'?"
"fuck heeseung—"
"no, say my name," he said, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you roughly. he halted his movements, waiting for you to fix yourself, "beg for me. didn't you miss me hun?"
"yes—yes daddy, fuck," your eyes rolled to the back of your head, subconsciously moving your hips and fucking yourself onto him.
heeseung let out an airy giggle, sitting up and holding your waist. his hips move rapidly, skin smacking against yours harshly. he knew exactly what he was doing, turning you into a slutty mess, cum staining your walls.
"i didn't tell you to move, now did i?" he spoke through his teeth, bringing his hand down to smack your flesh harshly, "that desperate for me?"
you still pushed back onto him, the head of his cock gently hitting deep inside you. watching you be so needy had heeseung smirking devilishly to himself, the sight was one of a kind.
"you're not as boring as i thought, you learned your lesson," he teased.
he always knew how to piss you off, but you didn't let him get under your skin and poked at him yourself, "fuck you, heeseung."
"ouu, keep talking to me like that—" heeseung was angling himself upwards and rolling his hips to hit your sweet spot.
this was wrong. fucking your ex-boyfriend who was a complete asshole, and you knew. the sex was just too good, he fucked you too good and knew exactly how to work your body. you let him into your life once again and you were willing to risk it for your pleasure. he was toxic, complete and utter toxicity.
the deep groans he let out made you clench around him, it was so fucking hot and you knew the effect you had on him. you knew no matter what he said, you had the best pussy he's ever had.
he wasn't lying when he said he got bored. he truly did— being in a relationship without getting to sleep around bored him, the thought of staying with one person just wasn't his cup on tea. you were something else though, he just kept crawling back like a roach.
you tried to forget about him, forget about how he stretched you out so easily, manhandled you and spoke to you as if you were just a hole to fuck.
"sweet thing, just taking me in," heeseung said, a soft whimper following after, "want daddy's cum?"
"please," you begged, nodding.
he loved hearing you beg for him. it was so sexy especially coming from you, and knowing he was the cause of your pleasure drove him absolutely insane, "that's right, keep begging."
"i want it all, please give me your cum daddy. i've been good," you pled.
"you have been. glad you're self aware," heeseung scoffed, hips beginning to twitch and he was cumming inside of you non stop.
that filthy mouth was once again being put to use, cursing and degrading you while fucking his cum deeper inside your cunt. it didn't take much for you to spasm yourself, sucking him in as he was still cumming. it was only his second time and you already held his first load in with as much might as you had, there was just so much more this time— leaking out of you and onto both of your thighs.
"s-so full," you whined.
"i know, just missed you so much," he coos. you knew he only missed the sex, not you. just to hear it felt better than not having him at all.
you both were sweaty and out of breath, hot skin sticking to one another. you were drowning in after sex bliss and only wished it was with someone who genuinely gave a shit about you.
in all honesty you didn't expect much from heeseung, him not cleaning you up after the mess he made wouldn't surprise you. proving you wrong, heeseung wiped the cum off of you with a few tissues on your bedside table, disregarding them in the trash next to it, "you'll call if you need anything, yeah?" he asked, pulling his pants up and throwing his shirt back over his head.
"s-sure," you mumbled. he was gone before you knew it, like a figment of your imagination— as if he was never here.
#enhypen smut#enhypen imagines#enha smut#enha imagines#heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung imagines#kpop smut#kpop imagines#smut#imagine#imagines
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ofmd s2e1 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit
not quite a reaction post bc i've already watched the whole thing. not quite a liveblog bc it's one post and it's probably gonna take me a full hour to get through a 28 minute episode at the rate of pausing and typing i'll be doing
s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8
anyway, pirate time:
i love how much fun con is having choking on his own blood
dream!stede's extremely teary face right before he takes off running down the beach is doing psychic damage to me
also dream!stede's stupid ridiculous outfit with all the long ribbons and shit...
ed and stede make contact so hard shjfkhsgjkfd the loud OUGH sounds from both of them
also the return of ed's old beard! i didnt expect to see her at all this season, so that was a surprise.
"babe" "love" im tearing out my own hair
stede has yet to learn that ripping ass near your beloved can be a love language
stede is a terrible fucking roommate just deal with wee john's gas in silence like the rest of them. goddamn.
WHO HAS THE OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH TRAMP STAMP. WHO IS THAT.
i like when the background OST is familiar to me lol the little strings when stede starts his letter throwing me back to s1
olu: that–that's the swede
the swede: Im the swede
roach: he's single ;)
me: *pissing my pants with laughter*
also the direct confirmation that the swede literally doesn't have a name. incredible
shjkfhdhfkj the crew encouraging him. stede's "it's okay" and roach "be brave" im CRYINGGGGG
stede doing customer service is something that can be so personal. "reservation?" "eat my fuckin' shit" "right! walk-ins, then" average restaurant experience
the random background guy saying "my favorite hand!" abt getting stabbed in the hand is making me giggle. i love the humor on this show
why does stede have so much shoulder movement going on when he's walking through the bar. whore behavior.
"this is for mom!" sorry but i want to know more abt whatever's going on there
also the purple mohawk. dope.
buttons is so distressed LET HIM RETURN TO THE SEA THESE CONDITIONS ARE INHUMANE
"i know the odds of you finding this are slim but so were the odds of us finding each other in the first place" IM RIPPING OFF MY OWN SKIN
also stede's lil sad hopeful smile after throwing the bottle... i care him
i love how they make this wedding fucking suck so we don't feel too bad abt the whole massacre thing. "the natural condition of humanity is base and vile. it is the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves, to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony" if i was at a wedding and the officiant said that i'd also start killing people probably
yayy murder montage :)
FANG BREAKING THAT GUY'S SPINE OVER HIS KNEE
the whole cake scene is so fucking funny im sorry. i love u jim drawing the line at attacking a shitty wedding. i love u archie who wasn't here for the good old days so you dont really see a problem with how things are. i love u frenchie with ur box in ur brain that u never open again. i love u fang it's gonna get better i swear. i love u frenchie again bc u just took the cake right out of fang's hands while he was fucking sobbing hfjhgkjhdkjkf
I MISS IVAN JUSTICE FOR IVAN. wish they could've said he'd just fucked off somewhere instead of dying but i think that would've raised the question of why hasn't anyone else fucked off since they all seem so miserable
very relieved that stede isn't taking the racist/antisemitic caricature drawings of ed to make like a boyfriend scrapbook like some people were theorizing. would've been overkill if after episode 4 from last season stede still didn't realize that ed hated these sorts of depictions of him.
INTERESTING DETAIL THO the background music in this scene is "a pirate's life" aka the song frenchie sang in the pilot. it's an instrumental version obviously but yeah i recognize that tune
also more cool background ppl with dyed hair man i love this show
zheng yi sao flirting with olu is so good. he deserves it.
how nice of ed to offer his drugs to the crew. sharing is caring.
also it's so funny to me that the thing izzy is tormented by is ed saying "you can't do the job, someone else will" the toe thing's happened three times and apparently that was fine but the thing the show edits together right before izzy breaks down into the most pathetic aheemheem whimpers isn't any of that it's ed threatening to fire him
also they cut ed throwing knives at izzy!! what the hell.
releasing the clip of izzy crying kinda ruined it for me when it came time to watch it in the show bc i watched it several times since it dropped and now seeing it in context i was like "ok i've seen this already fast forward." i mean i didnt fast forward through it but i did kinda zone out bc i've seen this bit already. this post kinda sums up my thoughts on it
"trifling ingrate plan" dshkjfshgdskhfjkhgkjh
"SEMI-CLEAN WATER"
JACKIE CALLING THE SWEDE "BOO CAKES"
"i know that guy we had breakfast together!" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh, okay" i fucking love this whole dynamic like i can tell they're writing the swede out of most of the episodes for budget reasons (sorry nat faxon) but by god do they give him such an excellent fucking send-off. can't wait to see him again when he's in his trophy husband number 20 era
roach is upset abt not being able to cook, buttons is tied up so he doesn't go running back to the sea (i assume). stede you are not giving your crew the environment they need to thrive.
olu being an optimist :)
buttons opens his mouth to drink the rain and in the background u can see roach yanking the rope around buttons back fhdjskgfjhgkjfh STEDE YOUR SEA WITCH CANNOT THRIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS
stede tries to make things sound good in his bottle letters to ed but out loud he says his actual insecurities... it's so fucking tasty tho that he thinks ed could be doing better without him and THAT'S why he's been stalling so much. not afraid for his life even a little bit he just assumes he's not wanted. brb i have to cry now
"im sorry if that's a little bit creepy" "you are creepy" in this scene where they're soaked from the rain. ofmd said this prince ricky guys is creepy and wet.
stede's fucking FACE when prince ricky says "you're my hero" his fucking "clearly you dont own an air fryer" face I CANT STAND HIMMMMMM (affectionate)
prince ricky "these rubes" "men of our standing" yeah i cant fucking stand this guy (derogatory) i love how he's barely even in this episode
stede's face when the swede is talking abt how happy he is with jackie... my man believes in love so much im gonna cry
also in what fucking way does the swede owe them a life debt. roach and buttons literally tried to eat him
izzy's "you know me better than anyone knows me and i daresay the same about you" this is literally so false i dont even know where to begin. izzy in e6 being like "if i didnt know any better i'd think maybe ed might possibly maybe be actually enjoying bonnet's company" while ed and stede are giggling and making each other friendship bracelets. this guy doesn't know ed at all.
also i cant get over how izzy wont make eye contact he's like staring blankly into the middle distance delivering these lines so flatly until he goes to say "i have... love for you" and in that moment he looks like he'd rather ed were feeding him more toes.
"im worried about you, we all are" not gonna lie my dude you've had a weird way of showing it thus far. where was all that worry when you told him he was better off dead than wearing a robe and singing songs?? where was that fucking love then?
and NOW izzy wants to talk it through. izzy literally voted to make blackbeard great again and now he wants to give open communication a chance???
lmao there's a limit to how many characters can be in a bulleted list so here's fucking. part two. on the same post:
ed asking everyone if the vibe is poisonous and fang cant stop crying and ed's face is just like "eh good enough" im fdhksgfkjtdkh
anyway ed with a loaded gun under his chin talking to himself is hurting me so fucking much actually. ed my beloved babygirl for whom i would die. this poor traumatized man. yes he is making this workplace toxic as hell but god. GOD. im gonna throw up.
the way ed is so fucking casual about shooting izzy in the leg. just calm and jovial as he promotes frenchie to first mate. stepping over izzy all crumpled on the floor. everything about this is so fucking good. i mean it's horrible for ed and everyone around him but for me watching the show this shit is DELICIOUS. i love when the pirates get violent and unhinged i love when this shit gets fucked up. ed's mental state is so bad right now and it is causing me severe anguish but also it is so tasty. fuck.
anyway frenchie trying to turn down the promotion fhjkghdfjkhf
the cut to the swede performing the husbandly duties is INSANE. COMPLETE TONAL WHIPLASH. I LOVE THIS SHOW.
"fuck those hammies up!" spanish jackie i love you
black pete why are you so fucking loud AND WHY WOULD YOU JIX IT LIKE THAT???
why is prince ricky so small. he's like a full head shorter than stede. also this guy is insufferable i love how stede just fucking abandons him fhjkgdhkdfghkj
"the calf muscle is the most mysterious of alllll the muscles" what the FUCK does that even mean. oh swede i will miss you
NOSE REMOVAL FUCK YES. I LOVE THIS SHOW.
obsessed with the swede playing dumb. the dramatic gasp. "wow, so bad!" fhjsghdkjf
"aint you that soup bitch?" "im the money bitch" i love women.
sfdsjkh spanish jackie being into double-crossing. and slapping the swede's ass on the way out. i love this show
i love how zheng says "this much indigo is worth three times what i paid" while spanish jackie and the husbands are still like, right there. and they just don't hear that bit. incredible.
OUGH the back of jim's weird rope armor looks like a ribcage that's so cool
i love how jim is so fucking bad at telling this story. i love how the monkey's paw comes into it. i love fang asking them to do the voice. i love archie trying to hold back her laughter i love jim and fang giggling together I LOVE THIS SHOW
ed's fucking voice breaking through his whole convo with frenchie. im tearing out my own teeth
HEY DID YOU GUYS KNOW THEY HAVE POST-CREDITS SCENES IN THIS SEASON?????????? WHAT THE HELL
i take back what i said about jim being bad at telling this story their version is so much fucking better. squeaky voice "I pray to you, Dark Lord, to make me real flesh! I want to be real flesh!" IM FUCKING OBSESSED. JIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU
#ofmd s2 spoilers#our flag means death#ofmd#ofmd s2#ofmd season 2#edward teach#stede bonnet#crew of the revenge#archie#prince ricky#spanish jackie#zheng yi sao#izzy hands#izzy critical#s2e01#txt#mine#og#gentlebeard#ofmds2rwwiptjdmtaors#this is an annoying post to make but idk how else to process my feelings abt these episodes aside from making posts like this
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Upon seeing the new ghost zombie skin I've drawn some angsty conclusions AND YOU ALL WILL HEAR ME OUT.
Ngl broskies, this one hurts me too FR FR. From the trailer it almost looks as if he's still sentient (I could be wrong but compared to the other zombies in the trailer he still acts very much like his human self) which makes sense with Simon's survival pattern in life. He's always the one that remains, the one that outlives everyone else, the man who neither himself or others can get rid of.
It's so tragic to think that beneath all the stuff the body undergoes when you get zombified, he's still there and he can see and feel everything but can't do anything to stop it. I think what hurts him the most is not just the fact that he's losing himself but that, like I said, yet again he's forced to outlive everyone.
Now, I don't know much about the codmw lore (AND BEFORE YOU COME HERE AND START FLEXING YOUR KNOWLEDGE, JUST KNOW IM NOT GONNA CHOOSE PEACE) but for what I know soap, in the original timeline, died and roach and a bunch of Simon's teammates too. With that in mind, I imagine that if he's a zombie and, taking a few creative liberties here, this zombie timeline could be placed a little bit before mw3 where everyone fucking expires then babyboy here is really going through it.
He's a monster now, and not in the "I feel like a monster because I think of myself that badly" no. He's quite literally a fucking rotting corpse walking and running around at full speed, body slamming the shit out of everyone. He has lost his friends, he has possibly had to watch that happen and once again, just like with his family, he couldn't do anything to prevent it and somehow ends up being the only survivor.
There's no amount of therapy that could ever fix that fucking shit bro, like he's doomed to real life plot armour where it doesn't work in his favour but instead just takes away everything and everyone he cares about. And now, even if he manages to gaslight himself into thinking he could make it work for once, that he could fr be happy with the next person that enters his life, he still wouldn't be able to be with them cause now he's a fucking zombie.
My brain likes to torture me with the thought that him retaining his self awareness and stuff wasn't on purpose and surely wasn't his choice, that the way the infection works on him is different. He feels so tired of dragging around his body and the mental tool it takes on him makes everything so hard. I could actually see him just deciding to cave in to the need of just...letting go, like to stop holding onto whatever is making him sentient and just kind of die inside his mind (?) Idk if it makes sense but since he can't physically die he would be content with just kind of switching himself off.
That's it. That's my painful brain fart for you to enjoy and suffer with. Unfortunately I can't pay for anyone's therapy, you are free to end my existence instead.
#zombie cod#zombie ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley headcanons#cod headcanons#call of duty#simon riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#codmw2#cod fandom#cod
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Track Marks And Dial Tones III
Summary: In which we pause the dense and dark plot for nothing but smut…..for the most part at least.
Pairing: Clay Roach x fem!cop!Reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Content Warnings: Smut Bomb 18+!, Oral (F Receiving), Tongue Fucking, Fingering, Silent And Yet So Loud Body Worship, Two Idiots In Love Your Honor, They Are So Incredibly Needy For Each Other Oooof, Smoking, Brief Mentions Of Weed, Emotional Constipation, The Plot Be Twisting Folks!
A/N: I actively lost my sanity over this 🫡
Find Part I and Part II here!
Tagging the horde:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @basementgrl222
Can you hear the silence?
Can you see the dark?
Can you fix the broken?
Can you feel, can you feel my heart?
Can you help the hopeless?
Well, I'm begging on my knees
Can you save my bastard soul?
Will you wait for me?
- Can You Feel My Heart By Bring Me The Horizon
Curly, damp strands of Clay's glossy, brown hair slowly rendered warm against the skin of your thighs. His cheek pressed against the inside of your leg as his lips caressed your aching clit with countless, small kisses, his bottom lip ghosting over it in a way that drove you crazy, made your entire body tremble and quiver in the gentle touch of his hands that found themselves wrapped around right below the round of your behind.
He made you want to cry out, not in pain but in desperation, in need for more of his touch but Clay held you pinned down to the mattress, perhaps not with brute force but way more with the gingerly administered nips and squeezes of his lips against your aching cunt. You felt the wetness pooling out of yourself, every clench and throb around nothing pushing slick droplets onto his chin. Clay wasn't even touching you with his tongue yet and you still felt like thrashing and sobbing through your barely illuminated bedroom.
"Breathe, yeah?" He calmly hummed against you, his nose nudging against your public bone as his content voice vibrated through you.
" 'M trying…" It scrambled out of your mouth in a poorly choked back whimper, a line of thin but nonetheless powerful tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line.
"I'm not gonna do anything until I hear you taking a few deep breaths for me." Clay teased, the wicked grin on his face audible. He wasn't even trying to hide it.
"You're mean!" You huffed with lungs ablaze before you inhaled almost mockingly deep.
"Wonder what made you think I was nice in the first place.", His warm breath against the wet between your legs sent a wave of goosebumps all across your skin. "There you go…and another one, please."
Clay talked you through it, had the audacity to and you allowed him to, wouldn't have stopped even if someone had pressed a gun to your chest.
"Better?" He inquired, his eyes darting up to meet yours, a glint flickering up behind the blue of his irises as his lips dropped slightly agape.
"Uh-Huh.." You regained a morsel of your composure but not for long.
Not taking his attentive eyes off of you, Clay unwrapped one of his hands from around your thighs, bringing his slender fingers to delicately dip between your soaked folds until his index finger was knuckle-deep inside, exploring you with tender strokes of his fingertip. Just looking at him, watching his features light up in a curious desire for your body, felt like it was too much. The way he studied your features and the way your rib cage filled with air and fell back against the mattress after a cascade of needy, little moans slipped from your lips as he had slightly curled his finger inside you, left you feeling things you had hardly ever felt before.
You were burning up from the inside out…though not just with desire. There was something more to it, something heavier, more pulling, making you gravitate towards this man who was practically beaming at you through his lashes. As profoundly dumb as it sounded, you felt seen by him. Seen in the most honest way possible, a way that contained way more to it than sneaky kisses and naked skin. There were no secrets between you. You knew all about his habit, and his police record for that matter, whilst he had not only seen your scars but was touching them in this very moment, caressing them…treating them with nothing but his love.
"You gonna be the death of me…" You allowed your head to eventually loll into the pillow as your back arched against his finger, trying to feel him deeper down.
"Oh, I hope not." Clay sighed softly in amusement right before he, devilishly juxtaposed to his words, put his tongue flat against your clit, lapping at you with the full length.
"Oh, fuck!" It was enough to have your senses reeling and you hardly took notice of yourself reaching out to shove your trembling fingers into the curly mess of his hair.
Your fingertips grazed over his scalp, pulling a deep groan from the bottom of his lungs as he eagerly followed your nonverbal plea for more.
"Gonna make me cum already, Clay…" Your voice was but a shaky cry into the gradually more humid air of your bedroom.
"Please, I wanna taste you." His raspy tone got muffled down, lost in your throbbing cunt that started clenching down around his finger in the first earth-shattering contractions of your orgasm.
His tongue against you, the tip nudging and playing with your clit sent a breathtaking firework of bliss through every single muscle straight up into your brain. You heard yourself moan and whine out his name, your fingers taking a fistful of his hair as you shoved his face between your legs, riding your climax out on his tongue.
Little did you know that Clay wasn't done with you just yet. He may let his finger slip out of your overstimulated, wet pussy and went to gasp for air right after you freed his head from your deathgrip but only to look at you for a few raggedy huffs, his chin glistening with a glossy layer of your release. Clay didn't even bother to wipe his face clean, instead he went back in straight away. A surprised mewl fell from your lips as you felt his tongue snaking inside of you, the curve of his nose prodding against your still sensitive clit as he set out to work another orgasm from your body by fucking you on his width of his tongue. Even after that, he wouldn't just let you get up, no. The madman fucking you with the girth of his tongue for what must've been two hours at least only let you slip and shimmy out of his tender grip after a third and final orgasm had rendered your brain into a puddle.
"Please…", You begged unto him with a sore voice, "I can't, I-... need air, please, Clay, fuck. Maybe a cigarette, too."
"That truly sounds like something." He chuckled lightly, drawing his arms from your thighs before crawling up next to you, letting his body thud down whilst smiling at you.
You'd never seen him smile like that before and it made your chest fill with a sense of warmth whilst feeling it tightening up in painfully equal parts. You tried to shove the latter sensation to the side, your eyes searching his to help you with that.
"Didn't know you smoked." Clay stated with softly arched brows, his chest rising in heavy inhales.
"It's an off-duty guilty pleasure now. You should've seen me at the police academy. Used to run on nothing but nicotine and caffeine in various forms." You answered, your features softening immediately as the sparkle in the striking blue of his eyes washed away the heavy feeling in your lungs.
"Oh, what else is on the naughty list?" He pushed with a note of upright curiosity in his tone, turning his entire form towards you.
"Oh, I smoked a lot of pot during college." You laughed, tucking an astray strand of nearly dry hair behind your ear.
"You absolute rascal, you!" Clay mocked playfully whilst watching you reluctantly turn away from him to fish for a pack of menthol flavored cigarettes in your nightstand.
"I know, right?" It elicited a little snicker out of you before you got up from the bed and waddled towards your window.
"Whoops…my legs do feel a bit wobbly." You heard Clay behind you giggling at your comment and the sheets shuffling.
"Absolutely not sorry about that." He remarked, taking a seat in front of you on the windowsill as you opened the window, nudging the open package towards him first before taking one for yourself.
"What about you… I mean…" You tilted your head towards the bed, implying that you'd been satisfied for sure.
Clay took his time to answer, lighting the cigarette first with the lighter residing on the wood of the windowsill and taking a deep drag before smacking his lips, pondering over his words.
"No…not, not now. Would like to feel you properly when I'm clean.", He halted for a brief moment, a tint of red creeping up to his cheeks, "I mean, like…if you'd want it, too."
At first, the boyish insecurity in his answer wanted to charme a laugh out of you but right in the next instant the reality of things hit you.
"I, uhm, well…", You started stumbling over your own words as well, "Listen. I wouldn't-… I wouldn't exactly be mad about this not being a one-time-thing, you know?"
"Okay.", He noted with a faint smile ghosting around his lips, "Then it's on the table."
"One step at a time." You felt stupid saying it just like that but you couldn't help yourself.
Instead, you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. The taste of yourself mixed in with that of menthol cigarettes spreading all throughout your mouth.
Neither of you noticed that you weren't really that unwatched in the middle of the night. The click of a phone camera went unheard as Agent Rohr narrowed his eyes down at the display.
"Oh, missy.", He chuckled to himself, taking another set of pictures just for good measure, "Not you fucking the junkie. Nice tits, tho."
#rory culkin#clay roach#clay roach x reader#clay roach x fem!reader#clay roach smut#city on a hill#Track Marks And Dial Tones
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Okay so sorry to the person who asked, my Tumblr fucked itself so I lost your ask, but they wanted some of Pyre or Pretty in a Skirt so here is both.
Pyre:
“This is all well and good,” Ghost spoke lowly, his voice careful, “but it doesn’t get us any closer to catching Sanderson.” He shook his head and Soap understood his concern with a sudden clarity. All of this was only a preventative, a temporary measure that would do nothing but keep Shepherd safe for the night. They couldn’t keep this up forever. “All he’ll have to do is wait for us or Shepherd out. We’ll slip up eventually, we’re bound to.”
“Ghost is right,” Soap nodded to him, “this won’t do shit for us in the long run.”
“Our goal isn’t the long run,” Price shook his head, “It’s the night. We last through the night and see what information Sanderson was arrogant enough to give Laswell access to. From there, we decide how to take Sanderson out.” He looked between the group carefully, “Right now we have a lot of questions. Laswell is doing research, getting everything she can to help us. I understand this isn’t what any of us were expecting, but our job now is to keep Shepherd alive. We can’t let our feelings about Sanderson or what happened with Graves cloud our judgment.”
Soap could see the way that Price glanced at him and he knew clearly that the words were for him more than anyone else on the team. It was a fair thing to warn against, but it still stung Soap’s chest harshly. He was better than that, better than letting his anger get the best of him on the field. He thought the team would have known that.
Pretty in a Skirt (NSFW Below):
Soap added a bit more pressure, grinding his hand against Roach. Roach knew he was soaked, he could feel the slick at his inner thighs. He was sure he'd been wet since Soap had whispered in his ear that they were going home. He was sure he'd been soaked since the man had tucked him close to his side in the back of the car, his hands rubbing up and down his thighs, only occasionally dipping underneath the offending fabric that had held the other's attention since the moment Roach had stepped foot in the building.
Roach gave a desperate little whine as Soap repeated the movement again, grinding his palm against his clit. "I- oh god," he tossed his head back against Soap's shoulders with a short moan, "Hmm, I just- just wanted to surprise you." He gave a desperate gasp as Soap's hand moved away until he could push Roach's panties to the side. His fingers were quick to press against Roach's clit, rubbing slow circles against him.
Soap chuckled into his ear and let his mouth press against Roach's skin. He traced a line with his tongue and teeth, slowly working his way down to the collar of Roach's shirt.. He nipped at the skin as his mouth moved, leaving little bruises in his wake. Roach tilted his head to the side, obediently allowing Soap further access to the expanse of his neck.
"It was certainly a surprise," Soap muttered the words into Roach's skin. There was no speaking for several minutes, the only sounds that left them were Soap's satisfied groans as Roach squirmed in his hold and Roach's moans as pleasure spiked through him.
Soap was unrelenting with his hands, his fingers working slow harsh circles against Roach's clit, pulling a symphony of desperate sounds from his lips. The pleasure was strong, but it wasn't enough and kept Roach in a cycle of perpetual and unforgiving heat.
#you asked luke#gary roach sanderson#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#captain john price#soaproach#kyle gaz garrick
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s2 brain thoughts: the squeakuel (ep 2)
as a reminder, if u see me posting any of these points as their own posts mind ur business:
-i'm sending my hospital bills to david jenkins for weaponizing thef cuking "you wear fine things well" scene WITHOUT ANY KIND OF WARNING i literally almost choked to death from shock
-hey so what the whole actual fuck is up with transitioning directly from the very painful "you wear fine things well" scene which, as we've already established, has REAL HUMAN CASUALTIES DUE TO THIS USE-CASE, into the "run from me darling" lyric overlayed on top of the god damn shot of ed pAINTING THE BRIDE CAKE TOPPER TO LOOK LIKE HIM AND BASICALLY PLAYING OUT HIS FANTASY OF MARRYING STEDE. david jenkins you have committed crimes
-also!!!!!!!!!! that cake topper has kohl smudged all over it so you KNOW our boy ed has been caressing it against his cheek and sighing longingly
-i know we've all talked about how insane the "ed plays with the wedding cake toppers pretending they're him and stede" scene is but i don't think we've really comprehended how GENUINELY INSANE it is like??? edward teach, blackbeard, the kraken, the scourge of the seven seas, the most fearsome pirate the caribbean has ever known that has recently been on a non-stop slaughtering spree, painted a bride wedding cake topper to look like himself which he then scoots next to a wedding cake topper that looks like stede so he can imagine that he's marrying him. this man carefully rubbed kohl on a cake topper to give it darker skin and darker hair and a BEARD. to make it look more like himself. so he could then. put it next to a cake topper that looked like stede. and pretend. they were getting married. i've written that 3 times now and my brain STILL refuses to fully process those sentences.
-i said it in my first brain thoughts post for ep 1 and i'll say it again: every time im reminded that ed has been crying NON-STOP. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. for MONTHS. over stede. my wall gains another hole
-the way ed is so delirious in his sadness as he pushes the cake toppers out the window. i don't even have any thoughts on that i feel like all i can do is just note it and let y'all deal with the rest
>>actually I lied, he literally watches them sink into the sea after he pushes them out the window that's so fucked up whomever made that decision to make him do that is so fucked up
-"the sea is restorative isn't it" "YYYYEEESSS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!! I'VE ALWAYS SAID SO!!!!!!!!!!!!" "ohh that guy knows" IS THE MOST UNDERRATED EXCHANGE IN THE ENTIRE SERIES IT LITERALLY HAD ME SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER
-would looooooooooooooove to know what went through stede's head as soon as roach mentioned "some place called China??" like did he immediately think of the kiss or getting sent to the naval academy or the kiss or ed's excitement at the prospect of running away together or the kiss or getting kidnapped by chauncey or the kiss or watching chauncey shoot himself in the dome or the kiss or his flop behavior of running back to his family that doesn't even want him or the kiss or
-the crew of the red flag being so immediately kind and welcoming to stede and his crew <3
-i genuinely cannot wait to watch buttons fully immerse himself in the red flag traditions like he was made to be on that crew
-"how should I put this, your energy is..." can't believe they got hatecrimed like that
-RAT BOY
-HE'S HERE
-OUR BOY IS HERE
-fun fact: i recorded my live reaction to episodes 1 - 3 and posted the clip of my friends and i reacting to lucius coming back because we were quite literally jumping for joy and crying over the reunion and THE illustrious Nathan Foad himself told me it was literally the cutest thing he's ever seen (his words, not mine!!) so we're basically best friends forever now and the rest of my life will be spent chasing the high of the happiness i felt during that interaction
-i am also crying once again over his reappearance and i think that's just gonna happen every time i watch this scene :')
-roach's shocked face when lucius appears is something that can actually be so personal
-the way they all dogpile on top of him because they're so happy to see him bitch what the FCUK
-also stede's STUPID LITTLE "huh!" LIKE??????????? THAT WAS YOUR SCRIBE AND RELATIONSHIP GURU YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER WHERE IS THE ENERGY AND EXCITEMENT AT KNOWING HE ISN'T FUCKING DEAD??????????????
-"i love it" *BIG SMOOCH* "i love all of it" *BIGGER SMOOCH* oh so they're trying to kill me by smothering me in the syrupy sweetness of their love. okay
-okay sorry but lucius's absolutely microscopic furrowing of his brow right before black pete kisses him again. for a split second he had a slight look of sadness which lines up with the very real trauma he's endured and how even in extremely happy moments they can be tinged with sadness - maybe a sadness for the past and the way things could've been if he hadn't been pushed off the boat - and all i can say is nathan foad. ur big powerful acting mind
-we gotta talk about lucius choosing not to reveal that ed had pushed him off the ship in front of the whole crew. i'm still trying to figure out if that was him trying to spare stede's feelings (unlikely considering he lets it all out later), spare black pete's feelings (possible, since he knows black pete idolizes blackbeard), prevent himself from having to relive that trauma in front of his friends when he's not prepared to confront those memories, or a combination of all of the above
-"i fell. off the ship." "that doesn't sound like you. you have impeccable balance, babe" i literally love black pete so much i may legally have to change my name to lucius spriggs
-"toouwelss? what is this? are these jobs?" stede i love you so very much to the moon and back but for the love of god you gotta shut it my guy
-I AM LITERALLY SO EXCITED FOR THE BUTTONS SEA WITCH STORY ARC LIKE IT MAY ACTUALLY BE ON PAR WITH MY EXCITEMENT TO SEE ED AND STEDE PROPERLY REUNITE AND OPENLY LOVE EACH OTHER AGAIN
-ed just. washing the door handle. i dont have any other thoughts
-GODDDDDDD HE'S SERVING SOOOOOO MUCH GENDER WITH HIS LIL HAIR BUN AND MOSTLY CLEANED UP WAR PAINT AND DANGLY EARRINGS AKEFJAPWHFA OPERGJAER
-the way frenchie looks genuinely happy for ed when he says he thinks he got all the poison out of his system and it's a new day :((
-idk much about piracy but i really don't think there's a rule about the new first mate traditionally having to kill the old first mate, i think ed just made that up so someone else would have to kill izzy instead of him. despite everything, despite how low he's sunken into the very dark parts of his mind due to the heartbreak, ed still can't bring himself to deal the killing blow
-"i expect great things from you" might be one of the more chilling lines in that interaction because for THE blackbeard to have not just any expectations from you, but GREAT expectations? that's not a compliment, that's a threat. measure up to what blackbeard thinks you should be or else
-can't comment on the amputation scene too yucky sorry
-stede trying to triangulate ed's coordinates based off of his string of crimes on a map HE drew is me trying to triangulate where tf this season is going based off of buckwild theories i've made up and used as the foundation for even more buckwild theories
-yeah idk what the mushy ass lyrics stede wrote on that map mean but i know they're frighteningly homosexual
-"FUCK YOU. that's how i am" I am SO glad lucius gets to be openly bitchy towards stede it feels like a cathartic release for me personally
-ed's fuckin "heyyyy" to frenchie in the kitchen is both hilarious and unbelievably unsettling
-absolutely obsessed with the writers for once again showing just how scarily observant and intelligent ed is when he calls frenchie out for using his right hand to mime killing izzy even though he's actually left handed
-i really admire how david chose to use a low camera angle that looks up at ed as he reveals to frenchie that he's well aware he hasn't killed izzy yet because taika's performance was already unsettling enough but that specific angle adds so much to his overall menacing presence in that scene
-joel fry's performance in the kitchen scene with ed literally makes me want to bite something he's so good at acting quietly terrified
-this is almost certainly an unpopular opinion but i really would've loved to see more buildup to jim and archie kissing. i just feel like we know NOTHING about her let alone her relationship with jim prior to the two days we've seen them interacting and i feel like that kiss would've felt like a much more satisfying payoff if we had seen more interactions between them before they got to that point. i would've taken delaying that kiss by a few episodes if it meant feeling fully invested in it once it did happen, but i also know the show already has so much material to get through (which is why we should've gotten 10 eps but i digress)
-"hey no one told me this room existed" is giving "i didn't even realize there was piracy happening"
-"take the fuckin leg" is such a perfect line delivery
-love the foreshadowing of olu explaining how the little ships on the war table were all over the place and "some of them were over land"
-roach waxing poetic about the noodles is so relatable
-"jesus christ stede keep your pants on" hands down one of the funniest fucking lucius moments of all time
-sorry but we gotta give a shout out to lucius modifying the chinese fleet uniform so it's sleeveless. the edges are cleanly done so either he was put on tailoring duty at some point and picked it up there or someone on the ship wanted to enable the slayage
-there's something to be said about the fact that the only other man who has lasted being on board the red flag ship is another member of the revenge who was picked up and welcomed into the fold well before stede and the rest of the crew wound up there. something about how stede attracts and retains other people who he can tell are gentle at heart, even if they're putting up a tough front. something about how lucius had bounced from ship to ship until he finally wound up on Zheng Yi Sao's ship where he was allowed to be himself
-"ya don't know............if ya picked up....smokin....." nathaniel buttons my beloved
-OOOOF stede's guilty face after lucius talks about how he must've picked up smoking somewhere. after the crushing guilt he already feels about the ed situation this definitely would've weighed extremely heavy on him
-MY SPICY LIL RAT BOY IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME
-"what the hell is going on in towels" wee john my beloved
-look i know izzy is on the brink of death but he genuinely looks kinda beautiful before ed wakes him up from his shock induced coma and i won't apologize for that
-"my leg" izzy is so fred rechid coded
-"it's up in leg heaven now" i need to know if ed said that as a way of metaphorically digging the knife into izzy and getting back at him for trying to force ed to send stede to doggy heaven in season 1
-i dont have the emotional capacity to dive into the ed and izzy shooting scene rn but just know it destroyed me on a metaphysical level
-"too scared to do it yourself" no because unfortunately now im thinking about ed thinking through taking his own life but coming to the realization that he can't do it. whether it's because of childhood christianity trauma and thinking he'll be sent to hell for doing so or because he knows he can't follow through with it himself if there's still a tiny shred of hope that he'll reunite with stede and everything will be okay again, he always has to outsource the big job
-also, very interesting choice to have almost jovial classical music playing in the background of the ed/izzy scene. it definitely undercut a lot of the tension compared to how supremely uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing the scene would've been if it were dead silent behind the dialogue
-"i loved you...best i could"
-"i've got an ex-wife, two messed up kids probably" LMAO stede acknowledging he would have no way of knowing how fucked up his kids are because of him
-"sounds like you're quite the fuck-up pal" "yeah, i am! and im alone! talk to pete. don't be like me" ohhhhh my god stede is in just as much agony as ed is over this breakup he's just been using his polite society social skills of saving face and never showing how truly devastated you are to others to cover up how supremely messed up he is over all of it. he is BEGGING lucius to talk to pete and NOT make the same mistakes he did because maybe if he can prevent lucius from bottling it up and actually deal with this in a healthy way he can make up for a fraction of all the hurt he's caused not only ed but lucius as well. maybe if he can get lucius to talk to pete he can absolve himself of some of the soul-crushing guilt he feels over how his actions have irreparably damaged the people he cares about the most. maybe if lucius and pete are able to work through this trauma and still come out the other side loving each other just as much or even more than they did before, he can believe that there's still hope for him and ed.
-ed choosing to put on the cravat for what he believes is going to be his last action on earth before dying because he's resigned himself to his fate but is still scared shitless by it and wants that modicum of comfort that stede will always be able to provide him no matter how badly he hurt ed is giving me the urge to find the nearest cast iron skillet and loony toons my skull
-"some people are just broken no matter what you do" noooo why do i feel like lucius was talking about himself when he said that to stede about ed ://
-oof i know they were an unnamed character but fang tried to save someone who went overboard during the storm and wasn't able to :(
-GGGOOOODDDDDDD izzy looks so fucking hot and badass all soaking wet and leaning up against the rigging after shooting ed jesus christ
-"finally" ed was so relieved to have his pain finally end. even after his journey of self discovery in the next episode im really curious how he's going to deal with having to confront the pain he thought he escaped in addition to the pain he inflicted on others while failing to cope with that pain and stopping at nothing, including nearly killing the rest of the crew, to end it
#ofmd#our flag means death#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#edward teach#ofmd s2#stede bonnet#ofmd s2 spoilers#lucius spriggs
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I'm sorry but the way the crew just. STOOD there and watched Izzy die. like i guess that could be interpreted as the crew knowing there was no helping the situation bc they knew that This Was It, but fuck they could atleast held out hope that it wasn't. (my memory is shit, but this is s sort of fix-it so bear with me)
Roach was frantic, when was he wasn't? With so much crazed energy in him. But this was different. This was a life or death situation. This was Izzy. Roach never hated Izzy, he thought the guy was funny, albeit a bit strict. He was rummaging for something clean for once, no dirty old rag is going to be of use, maybe that was one of the reasons why he took so long, took too long. In the end he thought, 'Fuck it, captain's orders' as he went into the captain's quarters, knowing Stede, had something clean.
_-+-_
The wooden shark weighs heavy in Lucius's pocket, he holds Pete's hand tighter, burying his face into his lover's shoulder, Pete holds him tighter. He clenches his eyes tighter as he hears Fang, Frenchie, and Jim argue in watery voices, hear their frantic hands and panicked movements.
Frenchie never left Izzy's side as they boarded the ship, even as he felt as though the box he hid in his head was spilling through his ribcage and making a ruckus in his guts, everytime he presses down on the wound on Izzy's side, the man complains, groans louder, and the contents of the box was making his throat close up and eyes not work, and he wants to rip his hands away, just to make it all stop, but Jim is yelling at him in Spanish when he tried to. Both of his hands are covered in sticky, warm red and for once, Frenchie can't find it in himself to speak.
Fang is oh, so careful as he cradles Izzy's head, gently wiping away the beads of sweat, making shushing noises as Izzy complains, (he doesn't know whether it's to soothe Izzy or himself, or even Frenchie or Jim, or even Ed). He knows there are tears streaming down his face, he wants to sob, to wail, for his friend, but he fears it will jostle Izzy too much, like one hiccup will make Izzy take his last breath. So, instead he tries his best to calm Izzy down, make some of that ever present anger seep away as to not over exhaust his body than it already has. He offers a hand on Frenchie's nape, rubbing his thumb on the skin there, poor kid looks like he's going to pass out.
"Puta madre, Frenchie! Press down harder!" They snapped, their cracking voice betraying the anger they wanted to portray, "puñeta..." , their hands were barely able to hold anything with how much they were shaking, they were struggling with shoving the dirty rags into the wound, their breath catches as more blood seeps out as they push any and all fabric their useless hands can get a hold of to cork the blood flow.
They wanted to scream for Ed to get away, to scream at Izzy to not waste what very could be his last breaths on someone who cut off his toes, who shot him in the leg, who he had to protect them from, took most of the punishment from. Ed didn't deserve Izzy's final moments.
But... They can tell that the first mate is still in love with his captain, even after it all. Jim can't, and won't take that away from Izzy, not when his life is hanging on by a thread.
"What the fuck!? Get those dirt infested rags out of him!" Jim wanted to yell at whoever said that, but didn't get the chance to when Roach shoved himself into their space, holding a bright white somethings smelling vaguely of something floral.
Frenchie was finally able to get his hands off of Izzy but the contents of the box is still stuck in his chest, turning his arms into stone from the inside out.
"Hey, man, i think you should sit this one out, eh?" Fang? Oh, it's Fang, he realizes, and just like that, It's like Frenchie could breathe again, but the thought of leaving Izzy's side makes it hard to breath again, so he doesn't. "uh, yeah, no, i-im good, yeah..."
Jim hears Izzy's apology, and feels that burning in their bones, to keep Izzy away from Ed, just like he did to them during Ed's tantrums, the only thing stopping them from doing so is knowing that look in Izzy's eyes as he talks to Ed. If- no, no that's not gonna happen-- when Izzy survives this, they're going to make sure to set Izzy straight and make him know that what happened to him was fucked.
After 2 and a half of Stede's towels have been drenched in Izzy's blood, Roach was finally able to stem it from spilling out anymore. Izzy passed out around the middle of doaking the first towel, his pulse was weak, breathing shallow, but he's alive.
Izzy's alive.
idk if i should make a part 2, i have school in, like, 7 hours and i havent slept yet😭
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even in the dark, you will not be my light
"Quickly, get in." Yennefer grits her teeth, finishing the spell with the last of her physical energy. The hut she has created, the invisibility and anti-tracking shells taking much more out of her than anything she'd done before sodden. It's a little shack, not much of note, but what can you expect out of a mage of stuttering magic and a frantic spell to get a child with a fever get out of a cold rainstorm?
Geralt doesn't even spare a moment to consider Yennefer's possible ulterior motive, doesn't consider that it could be a trap. But thankfully, both he and his child end up secure in a small, raggedy cottage, out of the rain, out of the storm.
The witcher places the child on the settee, sparing a glance at the movement in the corner of his eye. It's Yennefer, because of course it is, but she's not doing anything nefarious this time. All she's doing is leading Roach, Astoria and Thanau into a barn she's made up for them, and his attention is quickly caught by a stuttering breath from the girl laying in his hands.
She breathes in, raggedy and unkempt, as Geralt makes work of removing her sodden clothes and boots, leaving her only in her chest band and undershorts. Her skin is so hot, it almost rivals his own witcher warmth, and he quickly bands her hair up from her face and lays her in the bed he sees in the corner of the room.
There's only one, he realises in passing, but it's hardly the mist important thing when he realises Cirilla's skin is damp with sweat and her cheeks are flushed. She's always so confident and strong that seeing her shuddering and flushed and feverish is greatly concerning.
Yennefer comes in by the time Geralt has filled a clay bowl with water and is running a rag over her forehead after covering her up in the blankets.
"How-how is she?" Yennefer gasps out. Geralt spares her a glance, biting back a harsh response to her hypocrites. She's raggedy, her hair is unbrushed and wild, her eyes are big, and she's hunched over with her hands on her knees, looking small as she looks up at him.
"Alright. As much as she can be. She needs medication. Willowbark and salix willow. Mint, basil and ginger." Geralt lists from the top of his head, still wiping down the girl. "Need to get the sputum out as soon as we can. Keep her warm but cool, get water into her."
"Do you have any herbs in your sacks?"
"Not anything that wouldn't melt her insides." His eyes lock on the vulnerable child once more. "And the storm would take away any scents of herbs growing in the forests."
Yennefer takes a shuddering breath, walking over towards the water bucket Geralt had filled the clay pot from, and ducks her head inside, drinking greedily until her stomach aches and she belches in a way that make Tissaia bend her over and tan her hide.
"Let me see what I can conjure." Yennefer gasps out, wiping the water from her face. "I need to find somewhere to draw from afterwards. I can't give too much of myself in case she needs anything bigger, it'll hurt me."
Geralt's jaw flexes, and she knows he struggles to hold back words that she knows will hurt just as much as if they had struck her around the face.
She looks down. "Tomorrow, hopefully." She says, her voice quiet. Only he can make her feel so small with just a look. "After she's awake."
"Yennefer, she suffers. She needs the herbs." Is his way of telling her to shut the fuck up and get on with it. She nods slowly, slinking down to her knees as her eyes close, reaching inside herself.
Yennefer has to lay down next to Ciri after she has conjured a handful of several herbs. Blood drips from her eyes and she faints briefly, sending Geralt into a panicked anger. He doesn't like Yennefer so close to Cirilla at the best of times, after all that bullshit with the demon, and her role in his brothers deaths so strong she may as well have dug the knife in their hearts herself. So to have her laying next to the girl when she's so sick, it unnerved him. He doesn't even want to blink for fear of her being taken from him.
Ciri's breathing easier now, after he managed to get a teapot full of herbs and leaves down her. She's less flushed, and he keeps cold cloths all over her body to break the fever. It's all he can do for now, just brew more tea and change her cloths and get water down her in her moments of lucidity. The girl is now clothed in a long tunic with sleeves stopping just past her shoulders, it looks more like a sleep gown than a shirt.
When Yennefer sits up an hour later, Ciri's sleep is peaceful and her tanned skin is clean of blood. Geralt is at their bedside, watching them both with equal intensity. It makes guilt sit tight on her chest, to see a man who would have lay his life for her and fall to his knees in her worship so tense and untrusting and paranoid, watching every move she made. It's her own fault, her selfishness, and her entitlement, but the fact and her attempts of atonement don't go far with this man.
"Are you feeling better?" Geralt asks her.
"Yes. I-I can't draw from myself too much, not after the fire. I'll need to find a riverbank or draw from stones in the coming days." her voice is quiet as she looks to Ciri. Geralt tenses. "She's breathing easier." Yennefer comments.
"She will need another dose of her tea soon, can't have her sleeping too long without it. We'll need some lemons and honey when she wakes up, clear out the thickness in her chest."
Yennefer nods. She gets up from the bed, slow. She drinks more water and flexes her fingers.
"The rain is slowing a little." she says. "Can't imagine we'll find any lemon trees or honeycomb in the middle of winter. I'll see what I can conjure after the storm breaks." she's rambling and she knows it, but she's so desperate for Geralt to see that she's sorry that it hurts.
He looks exhausted when she looks at him. Yennefer doesn't know if it would help if she pulled back all together, at least for a while. He's so worried, for Ciri, for her health and her physical safety from those who want to hunt her and use her, of the hunt who's invasion is imminent and his paranoia that she would all of a sudden snap her from his grasp and make away with the elder blood princess.
"You need to sleep, Geralt." She says.
He snorts. "No rest to be had these days."
"Be that as it may, lay down with her, she's not awake and you cannot make her drink when she is asleep. Her fever is down and she breathes easier, you've done all you can for now."
Geralt breathes and looks at the girl. In her assessment of the girl, Yennefer is correct. The princess sleeps soundly, and his arms ache to hold her, to assure himself that she's still okay.
He silently toes his boots off and removes the armour, keeping the steel sword in arms reach as he gets on the bed, hearing it creek in protest of his considerable mass. Geralts arms wrap around her, and he pulls her to his chest, laying on his back with the young girl laying on his torso. He can feel her heartbeat, listen to her pulse, his hair moves with her breath.
Yennefer stumbles when she comes back, holding another handful of mint leaves in her hand.
"Stop, Yennefer." He orders. "You'll only hurt yourself if you keep going with no source." He huffs.
"I just-I just need to sit." But she ends up collapsing against the bedframe, and is caught on instinct, pulled back onto the sheets as her body lays down again.
"Geralt, what-"
"We both need to rest, we'll be no good to her collapsing on our feet tomorrow."
"You don't trust-"
"I do not. But lay there and collect yourself, now is not the time to speak of such matters."
"I'm sorry, Geralt."
"You've said. We can't talk about this now, Ciri is what's important now. So rest, you can't help me get her better if you run yourself ragged."
#geralt and ciri#the witcher netflix#geralt of rivia#cirilla of cintra#fanfiction#witcherfanfiction#ciri is his baby#geralt is the best dad#dadralt#i love him#yennefer x ciri#yennefer x geralt#yennefer of vengerberg#voleth meir
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TW - Ghost trauma (mental health issues, abuse, references to SA) and symbolic NSFW (not explicit)
'A Pearl' by Mitski, told through Ghost and his relationships. (Please note: some repeated lines are omitted for the sake of comprehension and brevity.)
You're growing tired of me
You love me so hard and I still can't sleep
Ghost looks down at Soap. The man is laying on his chest, fast asleep.
An unsettled feeling grows in his stomach. It's two a.m., meaning he should be asleep too, but... he just can't seem to find it in himself.
He's turning those words over in his head, again and again and again:
"I love you, Simon. Even if you're a dead man."
Dammit, that accent made him weak in the knees. It makes his head spin, like he's going to vomit. Sick, like a punch to the gut. He heard those first three words from his mother... once. His brother, a few times, back when he was tiny and ham-fisted. No one had said it since.
You're growing tired of me
And all the things I don't talk about
Roach's eyes, when not covered by a pair of sunglasses, are a soft, chocolate colour. They match his warm brown skin perfectly.
"Ya don't have to tell me, Si," he says, his fluttering lashes and crinkled nose the perfect portrayal of the sadness he reflects from Ghost. "I mean, fuck, I'm glad you even told me what ya did."
Ghost shakes his head, his eyes burning. It's not good enough, but he can't cry now.
"Simon." Roach has cupped Ghost's cheek in his hand. "It's alright, darl'." His Australian drawl is soothing, his touch warm enough to feel as though it's sinking into Ghost's bones.
"I'm sorry," Ghost rasps. His throat is closing up and he knows he's going non-verbal. He quickly signs, "Space."
Roach nods. "That's alright, sweet'eart. You've got nothing to be sorry for, but I understand why you feel like you need to apologise."
He blows a kiss to Ghost and leaves the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
"Ghost?" Soap says, slowly approaching.
The screams keep echoing around Ghost's head. There's pain all over his body, that hook sunk deep in his stomach. He remembers what it was like to have those people touch him, grab him and use his body in the most sadistic ways possible.
"Ghost," Soap says. He kneels down next to Ghost and touches his arm.
Ghost flinches away.
"What's wrong?" Soap asks.
Shaking his head, Ghost reaches out to push Soap away. His throat is full of words and sounds and feelings and they're all clogged up. The push falls short, and Soap creeps closer.
"Ghost, can you tell me five things you can see?"
Still too far away to push, Soap lingers. His fingers are splayed out, hand outstretched as though he wants to touch Ghost. Ghost starts thinking about the texture of skin and the heat of it and the goosebumps it will cause on his own skin and the idea of those sensory things makes him want to throw up, makes him want to rip his skin off, makes him want to scream until his throat begins to bleed.
Soap inches closer and Ghost starts to scream, banging his hands on the floor. It's all too much. Everything is too much. He can feel everything and hear it and see it and smell it and taste it and its crammed inside his skull and he is going to die.
He screams and screams and screams... and when he finally feels like the energy and itch of his body is dispelled, he sees that his fists are dripping with blood, the floor beside him spattered in it.
What he notices next is that Soap is nowhere to be seen. That feels like a stab to the heart. He wonders why he pushes Soap away every single time. And yes, he was having a sensory meltdown but fuck, why can't his brain just let him have one good thing to comfort him? Just one would do.
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night baby that's where I go
"You're always there, aren't you?" Roach asks.
Ghost looks up at him, startled. The thoughts that clink around in his head become quieter.
"What do you mean?"
With a sad smile, Roach comes to sit in front of him. They're both cross-legged on the bed they share - small, cold figures of the night. The moonlight from outside reveals the rhythm of Roach's lips as he speaks.
"You're always stuck in all those places where something horrific happened. I can see it. There's this... emptiness." Gentle as ever, Roach's hand cups his cheek. "If you ever need me, take me with you. I love you."
"I love you too," Ghost says. He kisses Roach's palm.
There's a hole that you fill
You fill
You fill
With Soap behind him, inside him, and Roach's hands touching every centimetre of his skin... he feels so whole.
Soap is buried so deeply inside him that he simply feels full, the gnawing ache of the cold in his gut finally sated by the blaze of heat that is Soap's pure and utter adoration for him. Warmth curls around his neck with his huff of Soap's breath, revelling in how tightly those calloused hands hold his hips, rejoicing at the force with which Soap shows his love.
Roach's hands are all over him, palming at his chest and stomach, rolling the muscles and savouring them. His lips work against Ghost's like a lifeline, as if any kind of part between them could bring about their death. He's soft under Ghost's touch, malleable and kind, his breath softly fanning over Ghost's face, wisping through his hair.
Every touch, every breath... it's filling. It fills his heart in a way that can't be described. He allows himself to drift into the tide of warmth, lost to the rhythm of his own heart beating, floating on that high of euphoria.
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night baby that's where I go
Just to watch it glow
The more Ghost thinks about it and the more he discusses his past with Soap and Roach, the more he begins to think that a pearl has formed inside his skull. It's something that has taken years to form, created through pressure and duress, hidden inside him until he can be prised open. That opening would reveal soft, vulnerable tissue, nestling a creamy white pearl in its dip. A pearl that is beautiful, yet eerily so. Maybe one day, Soap and Roach will be able to open him up and behold the pearl. Until then, Ghost lets it roll around his skull, smiling and watching it glow.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost#cod#ghost call of duty#john soap mactavish#ghostsoap#john mactavish#soap cod#gary roach sanderson#mitski#a pearl#a pearl mitski
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