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nsharks · 6 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion.

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy.

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look.

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood.

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction.

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp.

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side.

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle.

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one.

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl.

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal.

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart."

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons.

"Take it off," he suddenly orders.

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out.

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach.

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?"

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down.

You're too slow.

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall.

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal.

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going.

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod

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barefoot-joker · 3 months

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Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2877

Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”

“Please, Lucifer-”

“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.

“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”

He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”

His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this.

It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.

Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.

The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.

I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.

I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out?

“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”

“C-coming!”

I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“I suppose.”

I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”

“Of course, Sire.”

I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”

He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”

“It’s fine, thank you.”

I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”

“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”

He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”

I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while.

When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?

“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”

“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”

“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”

A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”

I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”

Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”

He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak.

It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”

“No, it's just…nevermind.”

I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”

“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”

I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”

I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”

His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”

I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.

I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”

I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”

The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”

I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.

The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”

I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”

He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes.

“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”

The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”

I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”

The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”

I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”

Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”

Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”

I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”

I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!

“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”

“O-okay.”

I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here.

“Lucifer?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”

“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.

“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”

“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!

After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.

~~~~

TAGLIST

@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs

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harleehazbinfics · 3 months

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Love eat?

Alastor x cannibal servant!reader

Original Concept | Additional Concept

Word count: 1764

A/N: sup im back with more crack, jk. but yeahhh i did a oneshot of that imagine and now we're here. i've channeled my inner crazy and that led me to this oneshot lmao, sorry if it's not up to par but pls enjoooooyyyy!

ps I can't find the artist pls help. chainsaw man falling devil spoiler sorry

“Yuta!” you called your boyfriend from where you sat waiting for him.

“Sorry, I'm late,” he says with an apologetic smile, placing his bag to his side while he sat in front of me.

“No, it's ok! You're doing your best in school. I was the one who asked you to eat with me anyway,” you responded clapping your hands together, appealing cutely to your boyfriend.

“But you're busy with your culinary classes too. I'm sure you're working harder than I am!” He replied, making you smile at how genuine he sounded.

You reached inside your bag and presented 2 lunch boxes in front of him. His eyes widen in anticipation while you opened them, revealing a well plated pork cutlet and a healthy salad in the other lunch box.

“I have! I learnt a few new things during class, and I wanted you to be the first to eat my cooking. I hope you like them!” He smiles at you, flattered that he was the first thing on your mind when you made the meal. He always loved your cooking.

The both of you met when you were first years, he was just roaming the halls familiarizing himself with the school layout when he heard you squealing inside a room and helped you put out a small fire that you accidentally created while you stayed behind in the Economics Room to relearn the basics taught to you that day. So, he stayed with you until the end so that you won't set the whole room on fire this time, and as thanks you gave the meal you completed to him afterwards. As he tasted it, threw it back up when he tasted how salty it was, so you resolved yourself that you'd make a decent meal for him, and that's where your friendship to relationship started.

“Wow! You've really outdone yourself this time!” He yells with stars in his eyes, savoring each bite.

You laughed at him and pushed the salad closer to him, and said, “You can eat all of it. It's all for you!”

“Really? Thanks a lot! It's so great to have you as my girlfriend!”

-=-=-=-

“Yuta?” you asked with wide eyes as you eyed the knife in his hand that was pointed at you.

“I-I can't take it anymore. I don't want to eat any food you make for me anymore, it’s disgusting. I don’t want to eat humans! I hate it, I hate it, I HATE YOU!” He screamed lunging at you.

He pushes the knife to your stomach, a few moments later you feel the metallic taste in your throat, letting the liquid drop from your tongue as you took has face that held great remorse for you. You smiled at the pretty expression on his face and rubbed your thumb on his cheeks, smearing it with your own blood.

"How pretty. I love all the expressions you make. Do it more," you coughed out.

His expression changes from fear to disgust and anger. Vengefully, he takes your wrists binding them together in his forceful grip and continues to stab you until you died from the pain and blood loss. However, despite your body tensing and losing color on you face, he never stopped. After his knife slipped out of his hands from your blood, he threw himself at you and bit into your neck.

Devouring you. Bit by bit.

---

You've been aimlessly roaming around hell and chopping sinners with your cleaver that were dumb enough to pick a fight with you. At the moment, you sat on top of a building waiting for something to happen while eating an beefy arm starting from the shoulder.

While you were gnawing at it with a blank expression on your face. You were surprised when a massive green explosion appeared out of nowhere, inducing a few screams of terror.

Just a couple blocks in front of you, you see a giant red deer demon with black tentacles coming out his back as he crushed sinners in his hands and consuming them.

You immediately dropped the arm you were holding and watched as the overlord showed off his power against you, sinners. Unable to hold yourself, you followed his parade of chaos and squeaked when he appears behind you wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"How rude of you to follow me around, while I was playing with my meal," he remarks with a snarky tone.

You got distracted with his voice. How could someone be so seductive with a radio filter on, you ask yourself.

"It's also rude to stare, you know?" He adds, starting to get pissed off by how unresponsive you were as you just kept gawking at him.

"I was just admiring how powerful you were, sir! I've never seen a demon turn into that kind of form. I-I was enchanted!" You yelled at him, hands clasped together while fan-girling at his abilities with hearts in your eyes.

"My, I've never seen such behavior from a person such as you. Are you eager to be eaten?" He laughs before his eyes turning black leaving his red pupils and radio dial iris.

"Yes! I would be happy to!" You answered almost immediately, making him revert to his normal self, getting caught off guard with your reply.

He hums turning his head in confusion and irritation, “Well, that just won’t do. I only like it when my prey gets scared rather than having a sacrifice like you.”

He tries to ride away in his shadow but before he could do so, he halts in his steps when you step in front of him. “Please! I’ll act scared! I’ll do anything! I just want to be with you!” you cried dropping to the floor pathetically making him deadpan to the sight.

He huffs, and turns his back at you, “Hmm. Do what you wish.”

With that, you stayed and served Alastor for years. You’ve arranged deals for him, did his bidding on some occasions and even represented him a few times in meetings. However, your main occupation was his personal chef.

Sure, one could argue that he likes his meats raw and cooks for himself sometimes. But do you expect that man to cook every meal for himself for a nearly a century? Overlords don’t have that much free time, you know? (or at least that what Sir Alastor says) and you happily take on this task when he discovers that you were an excellent chef, living up to his own impossible standards.

However, you find yourself in a very peculiar situation.

“(y/n)? Is it really you?”

You’ve come face to face with your first love and your killer. You couldn’t help but leap up from you position and hug him while he did his best to get away from you.

“Yuta! You’re finally in here! I knew you’d come to find me, hehe,” you cried still hugging him while he struggled in your mighty grip. “I’ve been waiting for you, y’know?” you said to him with your eyes darkening at him giving him the familiar dangerous look in your eye making him tense up and unconsciously threw you across the room with his strength.

You didn’t hit the impact when Alastor raised his arms and caught you before placing you on your feet, ignoring your heart-eyes as usual.

“And who is this with you?” he asks the group, almost sneering at the new man.

“This is Yuta! He’s our new guest! We found him in Cannibal Town, and he asked us where we were, he’s now he's here!” Charlie introduces excitedly holding Yuta by the shoulder.

“Ooh, is he a bad boy?” Nifty asks looking flirtatiously.

“Why, of course! He’s the one that killed me after all!” I announced with a smile. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

He rolls his eyes and says to Charlie, “I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I don’t get involved with her. I’ll find a room myself.”

You all watch as he shows himself to one of the rooms while Charlie replies, “Uhh, ookayyy?”

“So, what’s with you and that guy?” Angel first asks, “There’s a lot of sexual and… psychological tension there.”

“Yeah, and what do you mean he killed you?” Vaggie continues, while all of them looked at you.

“Oh, you know, couple fights. One thing led to another and poof, I was gone,” you explained simply with a laugh, making Nifty laugh as well.

“So, you two dated?” Angel asked in surprise.

“Exactly, why?” I smiled at him.

“Uhh, sure. He just looks like a boy failure to me. How the fuck could he bag a hottie like you!” Angel laughs throwing his head back.

"What a crazy bitch," Husk comments blankly looking at you before peeking at Alastor's annoyed face making him raise his long brow.

You tilt you head to the side confused, before Charlie would come in and say that she’d explain it to you.

A few weeks gone by, and you didn’t stop pestering your ex with things he hated when you couldn’t get enough of the expressions on his face. You loved seeing him get so angry with you, you just loved getting on his nerve. Or it could be some fucked up enjoyment of how you remembered being eaten by him half dead that sent chills to your body every time.

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of your shit!” he yells bursting in flames.

“Oh, what? Cat got your tongue baby boy?” you teased him hands behind your back trying to annoy him.

“Oh, fuck you!” he screams as he runs forward at you trying to land a punch which you jump away from effortlessly.

He eventually tires himself out and sees you giving the deer demon googly eyes that ticks him off. He loads up a fire blast and shoots it at Alastor. You intercepted it in between not noticing him following behind it and takes hold of you neck choking you.

“Not bad,” you wheeze out with a wicked grin, setting him off and squeezing your neck tighter.

He fails to notice the black portal underneath him where a black tentacle reaches out to his ankle and wraps around his body, making him let go off you.

“I’d rather you not mess with my property if I were you,” Alastor announces menacingly as he had you in his arms. You feel starstruck as you were being princess carried and being defended by the one you admired. “I don’t like sharing, so this is my last warning for both of you to not get involved with each other.”

“Yes, sir! Anything for you!” you scream your heart out that felt like it was beginning to burst out of your chest and leap in your throat, while you give him heart eyes that he ignored, while he brought both of you to his chambers.

"Are you finally going to eat me, Sir Alastor?"

"Shut your mouth before I stitch it up for you."

"Yes, sir! I love you! 💕"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #alastor x reader #harleehazbinfic #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x oc #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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comicaurora · 6 months

Note

As someone who might be interested to make their own webcomic one day: Why did you decide to put Aurora on its own dedicated website instead of a platform like Webtoon or Tapas?

Don't get me wrong, the site looks great but it gotta be a lot of work to maintain, right?

It was a couple week's worth of work to set up and polish, and I've had to do very minor adjustments every couple months. In return I don't need to deal with ads, I don't need to conform my story or layout to any sort of site standard, I haven't been locked into any publishing arrangements and I can customize the site however I want. For me, that's an easy trade.

When the channel started getting big several years back, we started getting approached by multichannel networks asking to absorb us in exchange for guaranteed clicks. We decided very early on that we weren't going to do that, in large part because even the multichannel networks that weren't scams were at all times one executive decision away from exploding and taking all their subsidiaries down with them. We saw it happen to Machinima, and recent years have seen even more cases where one boss's boss's boss who doesn't know what they're doing absolutely wrecks everyone's arrangement - like how Unity spontaneously destroyed everyone's trust in them by trying to retroactively charge game devs for user downloads of their game, or how the Escapist fired the one guy who was holding their channel together, or when CollegeHumor got corporate-mandatedly forced into pivoting to Facebook video and then everyone got fired when that turned out to be a terrible idea, or even the whole Channel Awesome thing. Big conglomerates of small indie creators tend to catastrophically explode on the regular, scattering those creators to the winds and potentially destroying the archive of their work.

We've even seen social media platforms thought of as solid staples of the online landscape start withering away because one idiot buys them out and starts chewing on cables. People whose entire professional networking presence is on Twitter have had a really rough year.

From my perspective, centralizing the world's webcomics into two or three baskets is a really good way to lose all of them at once. Also I put all this work into never having to deal with a boss, and it would be weird to go out of my way to change that.

#asks #behind the curtain

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willowser · 29 days

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ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

#i wrote this like a madman pls excuse the first draft quality hehe #PLEASEEEE he's so akfhahfkah isn't socialized LOL #doesn't talk to anyone really 🥺has no reason to 🥺#he's new to all this 🥺#doesn't mean to put you in his lil nest and cover you in the smell of him 👀#okay well he DOES but he didn't know it would AFFECT HIM THAT WAY PLEASE #ugh this has been living in my head for so long i'll write more of this when it isn't 1 am LOL #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ willow writes #song is wolf like me by tv on the radio !!!

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brother-emperors · 4 months

Text

It’s a little bit ‘I was the match and you were the rock, maybe we started this fire/We sat apart and watched all we had burn on the pyre,’ and ‘Do you understand that we will never be the same again?’ from Bastille’s The Things We Lost In The Fire

and a little bit:

‘A l’instar de son aîné, Caius Antonius sait se montrer délicieux. Il est cultivé, intelligent, plein d’esprit, gracieux, amiable. Surtout, il appartient à la même génération que Brutus, au même milieu. Depuis le départ de Cassius pour l’Orient, il y à quatre mois, Marcus a vécu avec des hommes dont il pourrait être le père, ou avec les soldats, des bas officiers plus âgés mais qui ne sont pas de son monde.’

and also

‘En juin, Cassius a enlevé Laodicée et définitivement défait les forces de Dolabella. Jugeant les autres à sq propre mesur, le beau Publius Cornelius s'est souvenu de ce qu'il avait fait subir à Trebonius…Cassius passant pour un homme violent et rancunier, pour un ami fidèle aussi, Dolabella s'est dit qu'il allait payer la mort horrible de l'ancien gouverneur.’

Brutus: Assassin par idéal, Anne Berner

actually it’s mostly about how my entire playlist for the road leading up to Philippi (after both Brutus and Cassius leave Rome after the assassination of Caesar) is Bastille’s Bad Blood album on repeat. I want their relationship to get messy. There’s another version of this scene that gets a lot more teeth to the subtext of the conversation, but I wanted to play around with it first before committing to like. room layouts. there was originally a couple of transitional panels before the last 2 because I wanted Brutus to really chew on this thought he has, but augh. stairs. didn’t feel like drawing those.

ko-fi⭐ bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app

#that Brutus bio is not good but it IS very fun if he’s like. your favorite blorbo. if HBO Rome’s wet cat of a Brutus is your man #then this is the book for you #roman republic tag #komiks tag #drawing tag #marcus junius brutus #gaius cassius longinus #The real reason I did this is bc I wanted to scribble some architecture. I need. To treat the setting like a character #but my god do I hate drawing columns #also I think half breakups can be the height of romance. where are my fellow fans of the heirs. you know the break up scene #I’m thinking about. It’s been over ten years and I’m still thinking about them. Love teams want the hold that those two #had on me fr #they do kiss and make up about it later but it’s kind of tragic for Cassius

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niqhtlord01 · 3 months

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Humans are weird: Unlucky Kevin

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Who’s that?”

Jib looked up from his lunch platter and followed the direction of Tiy’s nod to the lone human sitting at alone in the cafeteria.

“Ah, that’s right,” Jib remarked as he returned his attention to his food, “I forgot you just transferred in so you wouldn’t know the most famous human on the ship.”

“You need to stay away from them at all costs.” Jib finished as he took a bite of the Tunga sticks.

“Why? I heard humans are friendly.” Tiy remarked as her interest was now peaked. “They do not look like they are dangerous.”

Jib shook his head. “You don’t get it; that’s “Unlucky Kevin”.”

“What?”

Tiy snickered at the name but stopped when Jib’s expression did not soften. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” He replied coldly.

“What makes them unlucky?”

“Everyone around him dies.”

Tiy leaned over to look at this Kevin but Jib moved himself into her line of sight blocking her.

“Don’t even look in his direction.” He cautioned. “You don’t want to be caught in his death field.”

The look of confusion must have chipped away some of Jib’s nonresponse as he set down his fork and decided to explain further.

“That human is called Kevin Donger. He originally served in the 113th tactical terran legion when the campaign started.”

“The 113th?” Tiy replied, “But I thought they all died during the failed drop on Morgus III?”

Jib shook his head. “Everyone but Kevin did. He was the only survivor and was then transferred to the 43rd mechanized terran legion.”

Tiy’s eyes widened at this news. “Didn’t they-“

“-get wiped out during the Springs Offensive on Hape Prime; all of them but him at which point he was transferred to the 800thdrop force.”

“Who-“

“-got annihilated at the final siege of Ogmar Fortress on Ceptus IV.” Jib cut in yet again.

Tiy sat in silence as Jib rattled off several more distinguished terran formations that this Kevin had been transferred to, and each having fallen to a terrible fate on the battlefield. At the end Tiy sat in silence and only now began averting her gaze from the human as the circumstances finally seemed to catch up to her.

“If this is true,” Tiy spoke softly, “why is he still at the frontlines and on our ship?”

Jib shrugged. “Word was he is being sent to his new assignment on Keff V and we were the only ship heading there.”

“Does that not mean we are in danger of dying as well?” Tiy remarked as from the corner of her eye see saw the human getting up and begin to leave the cafeteria.

“I pray to the gods that we are-“ -------------------------------------

“This is Captain Morris; we’ve found the wreckage of the Temen Song and are beginning our search for survivors.”

Looking out from the bridge view screens Morris was not hopeful of the last part. Strewn across the empty void of space before his ship was the blasted remains of a Terengi transport ship. Its hull was breached in several dozen places and it looked as if its engine components had violently torn themselves free from the vessels superstructure like rockets fired from a launcher.

“Any idea what could have done this?”

Morris nodded sadly at his second in command’s question.

“Judging by the layout of damage I would wager a jump drive failure while they were in transit.” He pointed to the deep gouges that ran along the hull of the vessel. “The engines overloaded and traveled faster than the vessel was capable of keeping up and as a result the engines dislodged themselves from the ship and pulled several power conduits out along with them like removing veins from a body.”

His second nodded. “The sudden exit from jump transition coupled with unstable power fluctuations would trigger a critical overload of the power core.” She remarked as the pieces finally fell into place. “If that is the case I’m surprised even this much of the ship is left intact.”

“I’ve got a life sign reading.”

The pair turned from their command platform and looked over at the scanning officer. “I’m reading one life pod at coordinates 237-954 by 716-719.”

With a nod from Morris the screens of the command deck shifted to focus on the new location. Drifting amongst the wreckage was indeed a lone life pod, battered but fully intact.

“How many onboard?” Morris asked.

The scanning officer took a few moments to confirm his readings before replying “Only one sir; and they’re human.”

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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shadow4-1 · 5 months

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Got You! - Ghost x Reader Oneshot (NSFW)

please mind the tags on this one! this one is especially dark! tags: heavy noncon, slight dubcon, some torture, predator/prey dynamics

Summary: Being on the frontline as a Kortac hacker is just another job for you. But after a mission goes sideways, you find yourself in the clutches of a broken yet monstrous man they call Ghost.

You typed quickly and quietly on your tablet. A thick cord wormed its way from a port in its back all the way into a wall of servo units. The wall blinked and hummed, some lights flickering as you did your job and did it well.

"I can't believe they're paying so much for such little data." You murmured to yourself, eyeing the storage left on your removable drives. It was less than a couple gigabytes of intel. Off in the distance, you heard a few pops of gunfire, your fellow Kortac members keeping the area secure for you in particular.

"What a weird place to put this shit." You murmured again, glancing around at the room.

You couldn't remember where, in what country you were exactly. This was your third intel op for the week, it was all beginning to blend together. First time had been Russia, and then Spain, and then...Morroco? You were in Morroco, right? Based on the soft rug beneath your knees, the cotton drapes, and the casual color scheme, you supposed so.

All that mattered was getting the hell out of dodge. You half glanced back down at your tablet, another five minutes to completion. Most of the lights on the racks of servers had turned red, a sure sign you were doing your job correctly. Although, the more you looked around the stranger it all felt. Yes, you were a talented hacker. You'd worked hard to get where you were, but your instincts had never let you down either. Something about a server room being in the living room of a Moroccan household didn't seem right.

You heard some more insistent pops of gunfire. They weren't as far away as before. Your heart began to thump with the beginnings of anxiety. Leo, your main escort, was sure to be just outside of the cinderblock house. A part of you wanted to run to him, but you had to stop yourself. Three minutes, and you'd be able to get the hell out of there.

The pops of gunfire quickly became sprays. You heard something shatter across the street. Fuck.

"Leo!" You hissed out, grabbing your tablet, readying to rip the cord out of the back. "I almost got it!"

Thirty seconds. Come on. Come on!

Leo burst through the door, slamming it behind him. He huffed with adrenaline, forcing the door to lock and slamming a nearby bookcase against it. The gunfire was outside. You heard some yelling and returning fire. A man cried out in pain, you guessed one of yours. The glass of the living room window exploded.

Luckily for you, the servo units blocked your body from the main impact. Unluckily for your tablet, it was knocked from your grip. It skidded across the floor, screen shattered with a hole in the center.

A sniper.

You tried to reach out for your trusty tablet, but Leo had other ideas. With one of his large, tan arms, he hooked it around your center and yanked you upwards. Before you could even question him, he began to pull you towards the direction of the back of the house. Sprigs of his usually neat, slicked back hair fell across his forehead. He looked worried, an expression you were not used to seeing on the normally jubilant man.

"Leo, wha-"

You were cut off by the sound of the front door and bookcase splintering inwards. Daylight streamed into the dark house, making it harder to see. Leo practically picked you up and carried you as he ran. There was a long hallway with multiple doors that he locked behind you until finally, your path ended in a bedroom. The layout of this house was strange, but you hoped that it would help throw off your pursuers for just long enough that you could escape. It seemed Leo was thinking the same thing.

"Come on, girlie! The window, quick!" He huffed out through his thick, Australian accent. You happily obeyed, trying desperately to lift up the sill of the nearest window.

"It won't move!" You cried, throwing your entire shoulder against the small ledge. You yelped out in pain, multiple nails had pricked your palm. "It's nailed shut!"

There was a sickening crash from somewhere on the other side of the door. Leo stood tall, his rifle in hand, ready to blast a hole through whoever was planning on coming through. He looked over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in determination. Somehow, his energy was what you needed to keep from falling into a pure panic.

"Try the other one, girl! Kick it out 'f ya 'ave to!" He commanded, his low voice like a spell.

You climbed up onto the bed in the corner of the room. Sure enough, there was a skylight within reaching distance. You threw your body up the wall, the metal bed frame squeaking and shaking beneath you. You clawed and scratched, your fingertips barely making it to the ledge.

"I can't reach!" You cried. "M' too short!"

Leo made an aggravated noise in his throat, but it wasn't directed towards you. Out in the hall, there was the unmistakable sound of a door being kicked open. You glanced down at Leo, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

So this was it, huh?

Fucking weeks, months, of being stationed with this random man, and this was how both of you were to die. Cornered and helpless in a foreign country. A part of you supposed that maybe it was meant to be. Leo had always been kind of sweet to you in comparison to the rest of the men you worked with. Hopefully, your shared end would be quick.

Leo's eyes quickly swapped between you, the skylight, and the door. He blinked and then jumped up onto the bed with one stride. You squeaked as he pushed you to the wall, lifted the butt of his rifle, and knocked the glass out with a singular, smooth motion.

"Leo wai-"

He didn't wait. He dropped his rifle on the bed, hooked his hands underneath your thighs, and lifted you easily. Despite his help, you only managed to be tall enough to get your arms through the windowsill, but it was enough.

The door to the bedroom was thrown open with so much force that it caused the plaster of the wall to crack. Leo turned his back to the wall, letting your legs kick off his shoulders.

"It was a pleasure!" He called up to you, voice cracking.

"LEO!" You cried.

A folley of shots flashed from a muzzle in the doorway. Leo let out a garbled growl, reaching for his knife in its holster. He surged forward with his weapon, blood spots leaking into the back of his canvas vest. Leo was dying, and yet he kept fighting.

Fighting for you.

You refused to let his sacrifice be in vain. You turned your attention back to the roof beneath your fingers. The skylight was part of the floor of the flat roof of the house. If you managed to get your body through the sill, you could potentially be able to run from rooftop to rooftop to safety.

You used what little leverage you had in your arms and legs to push yourself up. It hurt, the glass dug into your fatigues and was no doubt embedding itself into your skin, but you hardly felt it.

Leo called out your name in a gritted scream.

You had to keep going.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You kept squirming and clawing your way up, pulling your right knee through the window. That was the final amount of leverage you needed. With a hard kick, you threw yourself a couple feet away from the skylight. You sucked in a well needed breath and turned over to fall on your knees.

You'd made it.

All you had to do was stand up and make a running jump to the next banister. You presumed it couldn't have been more than five feet away. Totally doable, even for your smaller stature. You got your right foot underneath you, using your hands to push up from the floor.

Something wrapped around your right ankle, squeezing so impossibly tight you felt the joints squeak. You cried out in pain, trying to right yourself, but falling onto your left side. You looked down at your legs to see what had ahold of you.

Fear froze you in place.

Through the darkened hole of the skylight, surrounded by broken glass, was the dark figure of a man's head. He was covered in all black, save for the bleached white skull he stared at you through. His eyes were so dark and smothered in kohl that only the whites of his eyes were truly visible.

He looked alien.

And he had a terrifyingly casual hold of your ankle with only one hand.

"Got you..." He hummed, his voice deep and dark and dangerous.

The panic finally kicked in, in full force. You screamed and threw your entire body weight away from the strange monster of a man. It seemed he anticipated your move because he tugged back at the same time you tried to surge forward. You gained absolutely no ground.

Tears began to blind your vision and you clawed and kicked with your free foot. You miscalculated. The extra foot was his next target. With his other hand, he snatched your free ankle into his grip.

You fell to the ground, kicking and screaming. Your leg muscles burned, your heart felt like it was about to explode with panic. You tried so desperately to use what was last of your strength to wiggle free, but it was no use.

With one very hard yank, he pulled you backward. In what felt like slow motion you watched as you were torn away from the sunny afternoon, the terracotta bricks and laundry clotheslines of freedom. You fell down and down and down into the darkness of the bedroom prison that was sure to be your tomb. Your nails caught on the texture of the wall as you belly flopped onto the bed below.

All of the air was forced out of your lungs. The fall had only been a few feet, but the impact of hitting your ribcage on the metal bedsprings of the mattress was enough to wind you. You sputtered and coughed, subconsciously curling up on yourself. The blankets tangled into the soles of your boots as you tried to put distance between yourself and your attacker.

A beat passed, and you gasped out, finally getting a lung full of air. You panted hard, putting your arms over your face, expecting a flurry of blows or a knife in your ribs.

"Who do you work for?" The man asked as he slowly stepped off the bed with heavy, measured footsteps.

Hysterically, you sobbed, refusing to look at his masked face. Despite your fear, you felt him come around the side of the bed to lean over your face. In a complete panic move, you kicked yourself backward, only serving to push yourself deeper into the corner of the bed against the wall.

It seemed the masked man's patience was dwindling. He roughly grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you with enough force to slam the back of your head against the wall. The pain, luckily, did clear your head enough to actually answer the question he asked.

"K-KORTAC!" You stammered out. "I-I work for K-Kortac! C-cyber tech o-operator!"

The man looked down at you with an odd sort of interest. He looked down at your legs, seemingly off in thought. The light that filtered down from the broken window cast him half in shadow and half in light. Behind him, on the floor, lay a body in a growing pool of blood.

"Leo..." You hiccuped out in recognition, feeling an intense pull of hysteria.

The man didn't even glance back at your fallen comrade. Instead, slowly, his eyes panned up your body until his gaze landed right on the Kortac chest insigna of your kit. Tears plinked down your lashes and into the canvas material.

The mystery man clicked a button on a comm unit tacked to the front of his vest. A man on the other end yelled out a callsign through static.

"Ghost! Ghost! How copy?" The voice had an accent you couldn't make out in your addled state.

"Copy, Soap." The masked man (Ghost, you presumed) spoke back. "Get to exfil now. Don't wait for me."

"But Ghost-"

"I said don't wait for me, sergeant." Ghost nearly yelled in annoyance. "Exfil in 40, out."

He stopped pressing the button on his comm unit and looked down at you once more. His expression was unreadable. You tried to make yourself seem as small as possible before him.

Ghost slowly glanced over his shoulder with only his eyes. He seemed to give Leo's dead body a short once over before he focused his attention on you again.

"You shag 'im?" He asked.

"Wh-...what?"

"You shag 'im?" He asked again, this time using your name to make the question somehow even more personal.

You looked up at him in a mix of horror and revulsion. What kind of question was that? This man had pursued you like an animal, murdered one of the few men you respected in cold blood, and now wanted to know if you'd been fucking that man while his dead body was still warm?

"F-fuck you." You choked out. Despite feeling drained off all your physical strength, you still had some mental fortitude left.

Ghost let out a soft huff. Whether or not it was a noise of amusement or annoyance, you couldn't tell.

You screeched as he grabbed the front of your kit with one hand. He lifted you out of the corner and slammed you back down in the center of the bed. The metal base squeaked and groaned but held up beneath the impact of your body again. You yelped out as he took his other hand and pulled out a wicked looking knife from his belt. The edges glinted with red, drying blood.

You tried to bat away his hand but he was significantly stronger than you. Even with all your might, he didn't budge. Running on pure fear and self-preservation, you dipped your head down towards his wrist. You clamped your teeth down hard against his gloves. He brought the knife up to your kit but stopped.

He made that noise again. And this time, it seemed to border on amusement.

The world turned black for a second.

When you came to, you could taste copper in your mouth. It ran hot down your nose and out the corners of your lips like drool. You groaned out pitifully, your body giving up any and all fight.

The bastard had knocked your lights out.

Despite all of your senses swimming in pain, you could feel your body physically lightening up in weight. With a bloody gurgle, you glanced down. Your kit and utility belt had been cut away, leaving you in just your fatigues.

"There we go. Good girl." He grumbled, putting his knife away. Something about the tenderness of his voice did not match up with his actions.

You whined out a cry, and he let you. He made no move to deck you again. Instead, unzipped your pants, hooked his fingers into the waistband, and yanked down.

You tried to pull your legs up and away but barely managed to twitch them. Your pants grew tangled around your still boot clad ankles. Ghost took absolutely no time in ripping it all off your body, making you sob as he twisted your already sore ankles.

"Stop..." You hiccuped weakly. "Please."

Roughly, he pushed the hem of your longsleeve up and over your breasts. He jerked it up over your shoulders so hard the fabric snapped and ripped. He threw the ruined garment to the side, seemingly too enraptured by the sight of your near naked body.

Weakly, you put a hand up to his chest as he put his knee up on the bed. There was no strength behind your push, and it seemed to amuse him. He let out a cruel chuckle and pinned your hand over your head as he positioned his entire body between your thighs.

Tears spilled so freely down your cheeks and neck that they soaked the bedsheets beneath your head. This was wrong. He had to know this was wrong. He couldn't do this. Could he?

"Please...no..." You whispered.

He didn't say anything, just breathed in slowly and steadily, eyes roaming over your entire body. He didn't move to touch you, or rip off your panties, or do anything else as monstrous as he'd done before. He just stared at you with an odd sort of fondness.

With his gloved hand he cupped at your face. You whimpered and cowered in his touch, but it was sweet, almost lover like. He wiped as much tears and blood from your face as he could, even taking the corner of a blanket to dab the excess body fluids away.

You were so confused and scared. What the hell was wrong with this guy? If he wasn't going to kill or rape you what did he want?

The hysteria finally set in.

How fucking funny was this? You couldn't find a decent man for years. Leo was the only one to come close, and even then, he was dead. And the two of you had barely been considered acquaintances. This big, fucking hulk of a monster knocked you out, ripped off your clothes, and now wanted to be tender with you all of a sudden?

You giggled once. Then that giggle turned into a chuckle. Soon enough, you were laughing softly against the hand cupping your face.

"I...what do you want?" You managed out between hysterical pants.

He didn't answer, just leaned his body down low over you. The bed protested hard beneath you both but stayed together. Slowly, he began to put his entire weight down on you.

At first, you wheezed, your beaten body unable to handle the load on top of it. Eventually, after enough time, you began to melt beneath him. Despite the discomfort of everything, his body felt warm and solid... and almost safe in a fucked up way you couldn't explain.

Ghost slid his other hand between you, cracking your legs apart. His still clothed core pressed up against yours. You knew that the too hard lump straining against the fabric was definitely not a gun.

"Why?" You asked meekly. "Why are you doing this?"

The man buried his mask clad face into the crook of your neck. He inhaled sharply before slowly breathing out.

"Mine." He admitted, giving your body an experimental thrust.

He groaned low in his throat. Again and again he thrust hard against your center, his cock grinding into your panty clad entrance.

What did he mean he "mine"? He was trying to fuck your forcefully pliant body. This man was a fucking lunatic. What in the godforsaken world di-

The head of his cock brushed up against the mound of your cunt. Despite the layers of clothes between them the head found its way just deep enough between your lips that he brushed up against your clit. Tears pricked in your eyes. Again and again and again, he pleasured you with each cant of his hips. You cried at the feeling. He wiped the tears away sweetly.

Why didn't he just rape you hard? Why did he have to drag this out, make it sweet? If he wanted your body so bad why didn't he just take it? He obviously had no qualms about using force.

"Thas' it, love." He murmured softly. "Just like that."

Was this some kind of sick fantasy? Did he truly believe you were into this? Or was he just pretending you were to fulfill some kind of fucked up need for human closeness?

He kept rutting against you, mumbling quietly against your neck. Most of it was filthy name calling, the rest was too damn sweet for the act he was committing.

"Fuckin' pretty thing you are. Not getting away from me." He muttered, seemingly half out of his mind. "Never getting away from me. Ever again."

You were so confused. Since when had you ever met this man before? You were certain you would've remembered him and all of his monstrous qualities. You tried hard to squirm away from his touch, but he kept you right where he wanted you to be.

"Never again, love. Not letting you slip through m' fingertips again." With his free hand, he pulled the front of your sports bra down. One of your breasts popped free of its confines and into his view.

"No please..." You begged.

"Should've thought of that before you ran off." He growled.

Words relaying your confusion immediately died in your throat. Ghost tugged the bottom portion of his mask up and then proceeded to pull your nipple into his mouth. He bit you hard, making you scream before letting up. He lapped at the aching bud, forcing it to harden into a throbbing peak. As if just to spite you, he traced your areola with his tongue, making your entire body shake with whiplash from the pleasure.

"Stop please!" You begged. "You're hurting me."

Ghost made that huffing noise again, his breath cooling the saliva against your nipple. He pulled your other breast out and pressed the two together. He swiped the flat of his tongue over both buds. You squeaked and tossed your head back.

"Thought you could hide behind your lil' computer, love?" He growled out, his drool leaking between your tits. "Thought I'd never find you?"

"Wha-?"

"Thought you could just drop off the face of th' Earth n' I'd never find you again?" He nearly yelled. "Should've known a slag like you was just in it for a paycheck."

"I don't...what?" You tried. "What do you mean?"

Ghost sat up to glower over your face. His jaw was set hard. You could see the veins in his neck since he'd pulled his mask up to his nose. You blinked tears out of your eyes. What you thought was the shadow of his jugular turned out to be the corner of a neck tattoo. One you immediately recognized.

"S-Simon?"

Despite his obviously bad mood he still managed to crack a smile. It was genuine and yet still so full of malice. His grin was still as beautiful as the night you'd met him. And the night you'd chosen to run away.

"I was scared!" You cried out in admittance.

"You were scared?" He chuckled. "When every night you were in my bed n' cummin' on me?"

It had been years since you'd seen him. You'd been mere weeks out of university, adrift and broke, but with a shiny new certificate in computer science. Just to get a free meal here and there, you'd found yourself going out on dates with random men. You'd never had much luck with men, and so it was easy to forget their many faces.

But Simon's you could never forget.

He'd been quiet, almost too quiet. He'd exclusively asked you questions about yourself in a much meeker voice. Come to think of it, he'd sounded like a different person the whole time. Did he do it on purpose so as not to intimidate you? Or was it a side effect of the pills he was taking while he'd been on medical leave?

He'd made it clear the two of you weren't going to be long term. And you were okay with that. It wasn't until you got a job at a programming firm that he started getting leery. When you made it clear your fling of a relationship wasn't going to work he'd retreated. And then he came back...lurking in the shadows.

"I-you were stalking me!"

"You still have no idea what I've done for you."

For a moment the two of you looked at each other. The pure terror of a moment ago was starting to wash away. This man was no longer a complete, deranged stranger willing to murder you in cold blood. He was still unhinged and dangerous, but he'd shown he wasn't going to kill you immediately. Your chances of getting out of this situation were much more likely. You appreciated those odds.

"What did you-"

"Y' think i' was a coincidence?" He hummed, cocking his head slightly. "Getting that job. N' endin' up here?"

"Simon-"

"You were meant for me." Ghost said with pure conviction. "You were meant to be next to me...under me."

The egoistical side of you wanted to fight, to scream, to make it clear you'd never want him ever again. The other side was absolutely certain that to live through this encounter was to appeal to him. You'd done it before and it'd worked. It was partially why you'd slept with him so much back then. And why you'd forced yourself to cuddle into his iron grip afterwards.

"On your back. On your knees..." He kept trailed off, eyes drooping in arousal. You felt a hard twitch between your legs.

Your stomach lurched at the thought of your dead, fucked out body being haphazardly tossed on top of Leo's. You needed to live. You'd do whatever you had too. And you knew what'd it take.

"S-Simon...I-look I'm sorry." You swallowed hard, tasting nothing but copper. "You scare me sometimes, but I-I still really care about you."

"Don't lie to me, lovie." He scoffed. The usage of his old nickname made you shudder.

"Simon...I've never stopped thinking about y-you." You sighed out, feeling your skin flush with embarrassment for admitting such a thing. It was marginally a lie since you mostly thought about him with fear in your heart. But there was a part of you who missed his body, his hands, and how'd he'd fuck you apart night after night.

"Please....I-" You slowly moved to sit up on your elbows. As you did your core inadvertently brushed against him. A warm jolt of pleasure shot up through your spine and you couldn't help but bite your lip.

There was a new tension in the air.

"Always such a fuckin' minx." Ghost growled.

"J-just for you." You admitted, forcing your gaze away from Leo's body. "I swear..."

"I know." Ghost hummed, cupping your face in his palm. The sweet gesture made your lashes flutter.

"You're a good girl." He said, as if off in thought. "Just needed a break. N' now you're back, back w' me."

"I..." You blinked, feeling tears well in your eyes. You were playing right into his hand. You knew it, and yet...a part of you didn't care.

He'd pulled strings, murdered and God knows what else just to give you a life outside of him. It'd all been one big, nasty lie just to make you feel good. Just so your inevitable fall back into his arms would feel earned. Because you didn't earn anything. Your entire life trajectory had been an unearned lie. But somehow, someway, you'd earned his affections. And that was all that seemingly mattered in your life.

"Mm...missed you, love." He sighed.

With that he kissed you softly. He was too sweet, too loving. It made your heart ache. You couldn't stop the few sobs that escaped. He didn't seem to care as he licked over your blood tinged tongue. He tasted like he'd always had. Like fresh cigarettes and bitter pine. Your head swam.

"Fuck. M' missed the way you taste." Ghost sighed, licking his lips.

He roughly tugged your panties, making the stitching pop, forcing the elastic to dig into your flushed skin.

"W-wait I-" You squeaked.

It didn't matter. With an easy flick of his wrist the entire garment came off with a rip. The amount of strength and tension used on the cotton practically burned your skin as it was forced off of you. You cried out in discomfort, trying desperately to close your legs, but it was of no use.

Without another second to lose, Ghost hooked his arms up beneath your legs and forced them up. He pushed them back so hard and so quickly he forced the air out of your lungs. You gasped, trying to right yourself.

"There w' go." He growled, staring at your now bare cunt, your knees up to your ears. He kissed your mound, nuzzling his nose into the dusting of hair, breathing you in.

A part of you felt disgusted. You'd been sweating out in the desert, sweating in fear of him, and it seemed he was drinking it all in. Truly a beast he was.

"See you haven't shaved." He hummed, giving a few broad laps to your folds. With each lick, a bit of his thick saliva grew matted into the light dusting of hair. You whimpered.

"Good." He chuckled.

You yelped when he slipped his tongue into you. It was thick and wide and he'd never had any issues getting you open this way. He much preferred to lick your cunt lips apart to accommodate him than sully his fingers. You hated this despite how good it felt. His fingers were always a bit less personal. This way? You had no choice but to watch as he devoured you like a starving man.

You supposed he was.

He'd made it clear you were his and his alone. And if that was the case, then he was only yours too. At least, you'd hoped so. You hoped no other woman would ever be subjected to this torment.

You cried out, legs shaking from the stress but also the pleasure. You tried so hard not to watch him drill his fat tongue right between your lips. He was drooling, his saliva spilling down and down over your neglected clit and onto your squashed tits. He wiggled his tongue in a way that brushed over that rough spot he liked torment. He bullied the tip of his tongue as deep as he could, letting it point right between the gummy ridges of your g-spot. You couldn't help yourself.

It'd been years.

Every man you'd ever talked to had scorned you or disgusted you. You'd never wanted to touch one until Leo had come into your life. And even then, he was untouchable. You'd been too nervous to flirt. At the time you didn't know why, but now, you'd subconsciously known you'd had a skull on your back. Perhaps you were getting a slight kindness for staying untouched all this time.

You cried as you came. Your hips bucked and writhed. Your spine protested, your head swam from the lack of blood flow. Everything floated away for a gorgeous second before your soul slammed back into your addled body.

"Fuckin' 'ell..." Ghost purred. As he talked a wetness spilled out of his mouth. For a brief second you wondered if he was really drooling that much. "C'mon, lovie. Give it to me."

"Wha-"

Ghost latched onto your clit and sucked so hard you screamed. You felt two of his fingers slip inside you with no resistance. They bullied that spot again while he forced pleasure out of your nub. The first orgasm didn't have a chance to fade into an afterglow. The second orgasm came quickly. It burned. Your belly muscles didn't even have a chance to relax.

"Simon!" You mewled, absolutely lost.

He wouldn't stop. He kept taking and taking and taking. He let his teeth graze at the sensitive flesh of your clit. You saw stars again. This time, the orgasm was so violent you screamed. Every bone in your body shook. Your eyes rolled up into the back of your head.

You came to with the warm splashes of wetness against your breasts. A familiar and yet foreign pressure in your belly was being released. More warm wetness dripped quickly onto your neck and chin. You let out a weak cry.

When you finally managed to open your bleary eyes you realized what'd happened. The entire bottom half of Ghost's face was shiny with slick. He huffed against you with pure excitement in his eyes. Your cum coated the inside of his mouth with the telltale sheen of cream.

"Knew you were a squirter." He grinned at you.

It was as if your orgasm was a feast for him. He hungrily lapped every ounce of your relief off of your body. To get to your cummy chest he released your legs. They fell apart, and you groaned in relief. Fresh blood finally flowed to your head, and you grew dizzy.

"Ah ah, no goin' soft in th' head on me now, lovie." Simon hummed as he laved his big tongue over your wet breasts. He slapped your cheek. Not enough to really hurt you, but certainly enough to clear up the stars in your eyes.

"Simon..." You hiccuped.

"Only got a few minutes left." He mused, eyes scouring over your entirely bare body.

Despite wanting to fight him, your extremities felt like jelly. You couldn't even catch your breath. All you could do was lay there in complete submission.

Without a warning, Ghost used his strength to flip you completely over. He forced you up onto your knees and pressed your face into the now tainted sheets.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, but there wasn't much of a point anymore. No one was coming to help, and even if they did they'd be dead before they could process what was even happening to you. Ghost was going to take you. And you'd asked for it.

It beat death, right?

He entered you roughly from behind. Luckily, he'd prepped you well, so there wasn't any pain. Just the warm, muted burn of him stretching you open for the first time in years. You'd forgotten what the feeling of sex was like. You couldn't help the low groan that escaped your lungs.

Ghost was right there with you. He hissed loudly, gritting his teeth as he sunk right into you. His big, gloved hands palmed roughly at your ass. He forced your cheeks apart to no doubt give him an excellent view of where you joined together. You squeaked when you felt a couple of his thick fingers spread your lips apart even further.

"Fuckin' 'ell." He groaned. "Missed this tight lil' cunt o' yours."

You whimpered.

"Next time I'll make sure you get the fuck you deserve, lovie." He growled. "But m' runnin' short on time."

"Si-."

A hand roughly grabbed your throat and squeezed. You opened your mouth in shock but nothing came out. No words, no air, just a silent shock.

Ghost began to move, fucking you roughly. He wasted no time in forcing his fat cock back into those parts of yourself you didn't know existed. He kept his grip tight. You couldn't breathe in or out. Tears and panic began to well in your chest.

With the smallest amount of energy you had left, you tried to claw his hands away, but he just choked you tighter. The mix of fear, lack of oxygen, and pleasure was too much for your brain. Black spots began to form in your vision.

"There we...ngh-go." He huffed. Every thrust was punishing. You could feel his sharp hipbones and hefty balls slap into your core. Your only saving grace from the stinging contact was the cushion of your innate softness.

You began to choke. The pressure building in your chest and behind your eyes was immense. The entire room was spinning. Drool spilled past your open, air hungry lips. The black spots began to completely fill your vision. Everything started to float away into that dark, sleepy place.

"Fuck." Ghost panted, his thrusts becoming uneven. "Fuck!"

The moment he came, he let up on your airway.

Everything had turned black for you. When you finally came to, completely out of it, the entire act was over. It hurt to much to move, but you could feel the wet cream between your legs. It had been awhile but you could never forget the feeling of being stuffed with Simon's seed.

His comm unit made a static-y noise and he answered it.

"M' on m' way. Five minutes to exfil." He hummed. "N' I managed to catch a lil' bird."

Ghost didn't wait for his teammate to respond, instead he lazily got off the bed. He eyed your body, smirked, then pulled his mask back down.

"I hope you learned your lesson, lovie." He said, lovingly rubbing your cheek. "Time t' come home."

You couldn't make any noise, your voice stolen from you. You couldn't even swallow. All you could do was lay there and look at him as he took to work getting you dressed again. He was haphazard and rough. Anything he couldn't put back on you, he didn't. The last thing he adorned you with were ziptie handcuffs to your hands and feet.

Ghost then threw you over his shoulder and headed back out the way he came. He didn't even bother to walk over Leo's corpse. Instead, he opted to step directly onto the dead man's head. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to block out the sickening, wet sound.

The sunlight burned but its blinding, white rays were welcoming. You'd never thought you'd see the light of day again, and so the blistering heat of it was welcome. Something told you to relish in it, as it might be awhile before you'd get to see it again.

The position over Ghost's shoulder made it impossible to look up. The only thing you could see were the back of his legs and feet. However, you could hear the sound of men yelling and running around. They began to get washed out by a helicopter whirring, it's blades cutting the air and cooling the sweat on your skin.

Ghost stepped onto the helicopter and unceremoniously dropped you to the metal plated floor. You couldn't even groan in pain as your leg took the brunt of the fall. All you could do was lay there, restrained and in so many different versions of pain.

The small grouping of men in tactical gear hungrily eyed your body. Each one was more distinctive than the last. One of them slow whistled and when he spoke you recognized him as the man over the comm unit.

All of the men, including Ghost, stood around you. They discussed your fate, each one getting more and more creative as they went on. The one in charge, the one with the beard smiled sweetly down at you. He wiped a stray tear away from your face with the back of his curled index finger.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Simon. We'll get 'er to sing for us."

In that moment, you realized you should've asked Leo to shoot you when you had the chance.

#simon riley x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod imagines #mw2 headcanons #captain price

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