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sirenscriptures · 5 months

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princess treatment - mw2 men

✧ synopsis: men who secretly (or not so secretly) live for treating you like royalty. even in the most mundane or difficult of times, you are their personal sanctuary.

۶♡ৎ featuring: johnny “soap” mactavish, simon “ghost” riley, captain john price, alejandro vargas, and könig.

before you read: female reader, sub reader, lots and lots of body worship, praise, soft sex, a little dacryphilia if u squint, breeding, cockwarming, cunnilingus, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex, use of pet/endearment names.

۶♡ৎ johnny “soap” mactavish ۶♡ৎ

✧ if there’s a man who is never ashamed to spoil you in any way he can, it’s johnny. ever since you two made it official he was all over the idea of showing you off and spoiling you to no end.

✧ outside of combat and missions, you can bet he dedicates so much of his time to you–his sweet girl.

✧ god help you if he comes home from a longer mission. you will not be able to pry him away from you for days. it’s not like you mind at all, though. his kisses are everything you wanted, so weighted and passionate, and he’s not even fully through the threshold of the front door when he first sees you again.

✧ his hands are already nestled in your hair, pressing your back against the wall as his tongue slips into your mouth. with his warm breath tickling your mouth, you can’t help but let out one of the sweetest whimpers he’s ever heard. god, it never fully occurred to him how much he loved to make you whine for him.

✧ “oh banphrionsa…” he murmurs, lips moving down to your sensitive neck. “i missed you.”

✧ “i missed you, too…” you stammer out feebly, the heat rising within your cheeks. your already flustered expression sparks a familiar fire within him as he moves you into his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom.

✧ it doesn’t take much to get you both out of your clothes, yet johnny still can’t get over how good you look. every time he gets to see you like this, it doesn’t matter how many times, he still gets so excited over it.

✧ “shit, baby…” he murmurs, peppering kisses on your upper body as he climbs on top of you. “you make me so crazy, y’know that?”

✧ nodding, you can’t help but give him that flirty smile that he loves so much. his lips crash onto yours again, tongue relishing the taste of your mouth. meanwhile, his hands are admiring your bare body as if you’re a rare jewel.

✧ even when just kissing you, it’s clear soap adores you in every way possible. it’s evident in the way he touches, kisses, and fucks you. he never wastes a single moment with you, and is always making sure you know just how special you are.

✧ even in between thrusts, his hands and words always ensure you’re reminded that you’re his special girl—his princess. the feeling of him stretching out your walls as he continually praises you is enough to draw you to tears—from both overstimulation and emotion.

✧ when he can tell you’re close to an orgasm, he pulls you closer into him even more, thrusts going deeper and deeper each moment. “i love you so much, sweetheart.” he groans, seed sputtering inside of you as your back arches against his chest, the sweetest moans flowing from your lips as you finish along with him.

۶♡ৎ simon “ghost” riley ۶♡ৎ

✧ for someone so reserved as simon, it was no surprise how much he valued your time alone together.

✧ in the past, he really preferred to be by himself when he had the time to spare. he always felt most himself when he wasn’t around too many people. but over time, it became natural that you were with him in these moments that brought him great peace.

✧ but past all things missions and duty, he deeply cherished when he got to be home alone with you. that way, he felt completely devoted to treating you the way you always deserved: like royalty.

✧ well, his version of royalty in this sense was a bit different than the conventional meaning of the term. but, in true simon fashion, it was quite fitting. and plus, he knew you loved it.

✧ the way he held you so perfectly in front of the mirror, hands caressing your body as his cock plunged in and out of you, he made sure you felt within every inch that you were all his.

✧ with your walls fluttering around him, you made it so much harder for him to hold back. simon knew you felt the same, the way your breaths depleted to mere shudders, your eyes glazing over with the faintest hint of tears.

✧ gently, his hand cupped under your chin, making you stare at your delicate frame against his broad chest. “now, now, sweet girl…” he purrs, breath tingling on your neck.

✧ “i can’t have you breaking on me now, can i?” his slightly raspy tone is loving, yet teasing you at the same time as a calloused thumb swipes away a tear streaking down your cheek. simon has always hated seeing you cry, but when he can make you cry from pure pleasure, you can bet that makes him feel on top of the world.

✧ “i need you to see how pretty you are, love.” you don’t even have to see his full face to feel his smirk against you. not even his full coverage mask could hide that from you on his best day.

✧ there is a sense of pride in his gaze as he looks at you through your reflection. with his hand under your chin, your expression is absolutely priceless. your glassed-over, desperate eyes practically plead for more, and your kiss-swollen lips are still as irresistible as ever. he can’t hide how proud he is that he’s made a mess of you–his sweet girl.

✧ “there you are, princess.” he teases, watching you stare at yourself in a daze. his thrusts are slow in and out of you as a free hand rubs and pinches at your nipples. your head falls back onto his shoulder, another broken moan falling from your agape mouth. simon feels you clenching around him again, the feeling earning a growl from him.

✧ but still, his thrusts remain tender and slow, ensuring you feel every part of him. as much as he’d love to ravage you with rough, fast thrusts, he loves your reactions to his deep, slow pace far too much in this moment. plus, this was all about your pleasure.

✧ it isn’t long before his warm seed is ribboning inside you, eventually dribbling down your quivering thighs as your orgasm joins with his own. your noises are so sweet, something he can never get enough of. and the look of you is enough to make him fall in love with you thousands of times over.

✧ he smiles at you, lips colliding messily with yours, admiring how warm your face is as he holds you. “you did so well for me,” he murmurs, breathing in your comforting scent. “my pretty girl.”

۶♡ৎ john price ۶♡ৎ

✧ believe it or not, captain price could be quite the romantic type. though, as a man with such a stoic position as a captain, that side never got much of a chance to reveal itself. unless, of course, he was alone with his favorite woman in the world…

✧ getting to see him in such a rare position felt so special to you. he was so sweet and gentle with you, it always found a way to make you swoon. and you bet price adored having that effect over you.

✧ the fact his mere touch could make you melt beneath him was enthralling, and definitely made him want more. of course, what better way to do that than to spoil you, right? after all, that was his favorite thing to do when he had his time with you.

✧ but it was his absolute favorite when he could be in between your legs, and he could stay there for hours. the feeling of you squirming beneath him had so many ways of making him feral for you, and he knew you loved it when he got to that point.

✧ while his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, he could feel your hips bucking into his face ever so slightly, your noises growing louder each moment. you could hardly contain yourself any longer, and price adored every second of it.

✧ every few minutes, he would lay sweet kisses over your folds, fingers teasing your entrance from time to time. “sweetheart, you have no idea the things you do to me…” he breathes out, suckling at the sensitive bud again.

✧ your back starts to arch at his words, hands gripping tightly at the sheets. price lets out a satisfied chuckle as his fingers finally push inside your wetness. the feeling of your walls is just as he expects: heavenly. you’re so warm and welcoming to his fingers, it's almost hard for him not to push himself into you as a whole right then and there.

✧ “close already, yeah?” he teases, mouth still working at you, his fingers doing the same. the look in your eye confirms that for him, making his blood rush with excitement as your bottom lip hooks beneath your teeth.

✧ he smirks at you from between your legs. “well, allow me to help with that, angel.” price let his fingers curl inside of you towards your sweet spot, earning a strangled cry from you, your back arching even more.

✧ as his tongue slithered about your wetness, he marveled at the way you tightened around his fingers, especially when you released yourself. you sounded so sweet, and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that from you.

✧ his lips finally met with yours, pulling your body close to his again. though, he was nowhere near done with you, he knew he wanted to admire you in this pleasure-filled haze just a bit more…

۶♡ৎ alejandro vargas ۶♡ৎ

✧ despite his roughened, at times crass exterior, alejandro had no problem showing his soft, vulnerable side to you and only you. he seldom ever let that gentle side slip outwards in front of just anybody, so you considered yourself lucky to have grown this close to him.

✧ besides, nothing could ever beat having those hypnotic dark eyes and that charming smile of his directed at you, and only you.

✧ but there was something about that certain…look you gave him in these moments that filled him with an endless desire to please you and spoil your body in so many different ways. it was that sweet, almost innocent look with a small lip bite that could make him fold you over in a matter of seconds.

✧ one thing about alejandro is that he preferred when he could take his time with you. he was the last one who wanted a quickie or something short. if he was going to pleasure his love, he was going to make sure you felt it.

✧ so when he has you sprawled out on the bed, cockwarming him as he caresses every inch of you, he can’t help but tease you just a bit from time to time. your whole body responds to him so perfectly, it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. can you really blame him?

✧ “ale…” you mewl out shakily, the feeling of his lips on your neck nearly pushing you over the edge. he smirks at you, hands continuing to massage your breasts. “hmm?” he hums against your skin, still leaving pretty marks all over you.

✧ you can barely even form words in this state. “mmmh, need you…” you stagger, breath hitching as his tongue starts to swirl around your protruding nipple.

✧ “you need to use your words, mi vida.” he presses a kiss to your neck again, taking you by the chin gently so he can stare at you properly. “what do you need from me?”

✧ alejandro’s gaze is soft yet still commanding, easily sending a shiver down your back. you take a breath, cupping his face in your hand. “i…need you to fuck me, please.” you manage, that sweet look that drove him feral still in your eyes.

✧ his lips press messily against you, a hand wrapping around your neck now. “que educada, princesa.” he chuckles, admiring how you tremble beneath him as he starts to move.

✧ his growls only add to your pleasure as he pushes deep inside you, your walls responding with a warm clench, making his grip on your hips tighter. you can feel your orgasm growing closer, moans growing shaky and incoherent.

✧ listening to his name fall so shattered from your lips pushed him over the edge, cum spilling into you as he watched in awe as your legs trembled and you clenched around him a final time.

✧ between warm, breathless kisses, he smiles at you again. “you’re so good to me, amor.” he says, pulling you close to his chest.

۶♡ৎ könig ۶♡ৎ

✧ in all honesty, könig has no idea how he got so lucky to have you. you were everything and more he could’ve ever asked for in a woman.

✧ even though he was far from inexperienced in the world of relationships and intimacy, you had a way of making him feel like it was the first time in every moment he got to spend with you.

✧ but some of his favorite moments came from when he got to spoil you. it didn’t matter if it was taking a lazy day where you stayed home or in bed for hours in the late morning, or if he was taking you out to one of your favorite places, as long as he was in your company, he was more than content.

✧ but if he had to pick an absolute favorite pastime with you… it had to be when he was able to worship you from head to toe.

✧ there was something so enthralling for both of you, having such a large man, in nothing but his boxers, on his knees in front of you, kissing every single inch of you as you sat on the bed, staring down in admiration.

✧ könig’s gentle expression as he looks up at you still has the power to give you butterflies even after being together for so long. the closer his mouth gets to the fabric of your underwear, he gives you a look until you eventually nod, making his lips spread into a smile.

✧ peeling the fabric to the side, his tongue swirls over your wetness. your back arches in response, head falling back as you let a moan escape. hearing you in this state drives him even further, pulling you by your hips against his face.

✧ even when you’re trembling, he continues. your moans have broken down to shaky sobs as he tonguefucks you, his growls vibrating against you. he can’t get enough of your taste, even when you’ve already come for him.

✧ eventually, he pulls away, licking his lips before kissing a trail up your stomach. his eyes stare into yours lovingly, fingers running through your hair.

✧ “you did so well, meine liebe.” he praises, kissing your neck before smirking. “but i’m nowhere near done with you.”

“banphrionsa” = princess, “mi vida” = my life, “que educada, princesa.” = how polite, princess. “meine liebe” = my love.

written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.

#mw2 smut #mw2 headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #könig smut #könig x reader #soap x reader #soap smut #alejandro vargas smut #john price smut #⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚 — sea’s scriptures #☾ — nightly yearning

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planetsstarsandmoons · 7 months

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Synastry observations based on (personal) experience, part 5:

I’m back!!!! After months lmao

Moon opposite mars: a big ‘want’. Moon opposite mars is a story. It’s every romance movie/ romcom aspect, and i’ll tell you why. These people see in each other the potential of moon conjunct mars fullfillment that’s actually (way, but opinions differ ofc) better than the conjunction. That’s because in the opposition, each has something the other lacks. This can create for both people the ultimate romantic fullfilment when brought together by effort and acceptance of each other, and this promise is very hard to let go of. Typically, these are couples that fight a lot but find it very hard to let each other go once they know what they can have with each other, because it really is the best. Just think about it, even the thought of people putting conscious effort to be sweeter to one another is precious. That only creates a bond that’s very raw and very real (quoting jewelastrology here). Then combine that with the power of the mars and the moon and the friction of the opposition, keeping things interesting and keeping both parties learning more. You shouldn’t romanticise struggle in a relationship. Too much ‘work’ can just mean you aren’t compatible. THIS aspect is an exception. Just watch out for possible aggression. That’s never okay. One day I’ll make a seperate post about the amount of moon opposite mars couples in literature. The best I can think of now is Pride and Prejudice, with Mr Darcy being mars and Elizabeth Bennet being moon.

Venus twelfth house overlay: sorry y’all, in my personal experience, it’s true what they say. The twelfth house person has a hard time feeling this overlay on their side, or on a very subconscious level. I was the 12th house person. On one hand, I really ‘got it’ so to say but on the other hand, I don’t have a shitty clue of how he picked up on this ‘thing between us’ he thought or picked up on we had. That’s actually the big thing about this overlay. Don’t lose all hope, but you’ll have one person going “you knoww like there’s this thing between us...” and the 12th house person will be going: “what thing?” 😂 this can actually be nice because the 12th house person will get in touch with that subconscious twelfth housey part of themselves IF there are other nicely supporting aspects. Like the venus person’s venus to other stuff. They say a true connection is always mutual. I want to say to you all that don’t be surprised when a 12th house person in such an overlay is not ‘feeling’ this mutually. I literally wrote in my diary: “i might actually like him when it’s too late. Or just never lol i do not know.”

Update: I wrote this observation months ago in like april. It is now october and I’m starting to gain interest in him, albeit slowly and subconsciously, but, yeah 🤦‍♀️😂 i came back to this draft being like “WHATT?? Astrology had predicted this TOO for me???”

Moon trine pluto: you know when the fighting super intense troubled couple FINALLY gets together in this really intense and satisfying time when things are finally going the way they’re planned? Like an end all all good? That is this overlay, but constantly. On the outside, it’s the annoyingly passionate/emotional couple in a series that you don’t get because you haven’t seen them do any work to deserve this kind of intense fan-service scene. It’s because it lacked that kind of character development? It was me watching avengers infinity war with vision and wanda. I didn’t like the couple because i didn’t get it. I didn’t know their history i thought it was just some random very bland peaceful couple being very dramatic about each other all the time. Another example (i’m not shitting on this aspect i swear 😂) when a cartoon shows an example of a ‘romantic movie scene’ where the couple says “i loove you!!” And the other goes “oh bill!!” You don’t swoon because you’re like… okay. You get the oogies/ick because it’s like ‘ew that’s a couple’ anyways what I’m trying to say is that moon and pluto are not typical besties they’re supposed to be two problems kind of, they’re two very intense and bare planets, so harmonious flowing energy between them will feel kind of unsettling? Even. So these people will be kind of ‘gross’ with each other but in a soothing way. It’s how you imagine such a trine to be, but it plays out exactly like this irl too lmao! It feels bland on the outside because it’s always going well. And on the inside it plays in the background, because issues bring moon and pluto stuff to the foreground as a ‘theme’ in the relationship. So this aspect is also is the simple idea-of-a-passionate relationship. It’s the groaning “I’ll never let you go!!” Which doesn’t hit the same way for some people because there isn’t any drama or shit that happened before to deserve this pay off. However, some people loooove this aspect and by that I mean people in real life who like to have a secure and deep relationship where two hidden parts of people correspond and love each other well. This aspect is reaallly hard to let go of lol.

Sun conjunct mars: I call this the ‘spicy friends’ aspect. This is the aspect of two people who get into shenanigans together. I also see this aspect a lot with romantic couples who got together young, because it makes for boy-girl relations where the boy actually gets motivated by the person the girl is and the girl feels understood on the same level by the boy. They don’t get bored and so these people will forever get on or be aggravated by each other. It’s because these are two extremely conscious ‘in the moment’ planets so they easily fire off each other and it doesn’t take a lot of energy to have that interaction. Not in the plutonically karmic way, but in a personal way I currently cannot describe. No in between. It creates a bond that people can’t really get in between. You just have to let them stay friends/buds until they get sick of each other, and they may even repeat the process after that. Either way, this is an aspect that makes people get together fast ! Their conscious behaviour is accelerated by each other.

Sun conjunct venus: unlike mars, venus is a cold planet, which is totally okay in a synastry, only the interaction plays out a little different. Sun and venus don’t fire off each other. Their influence on each other is more passive and more ‘mental’. The sun, how basic it may sound, warms venus or even makes them burn. Venus gives the sun person chills. The venus person is responsible for the harmony and awesome functionality that this aspect brings. They will take a step back to fully adore and admire sun from afar sometimes. The sun will run to venus basically when it needs love and beauty and also a kind of sensibility that the sun person misses, like a puzzle piece. Sun brings heat and passion that the venus craves. These people will often crave for how the other person makes them feel. Venus typically loves every little thing the sun person does and the sun person is just taken by the venus person every single day. Think Oliver (venus) and Loretta (sun) from Only Murders In The Building. This aspect makes for real contentment in a relationship.

Mars in twelfth house synastry or composite: with this placement, you’re not even sure if the person is actually even attracted to you and if you’re making it all up in your head. This is also typically seen as a ‘synastry/composite of secrets’ which I wasn’t so sure about at the time I experienced this one myself, but now I realise, hey, that man actually had a girlfriend while he was giving me ‘special attention’ while holding back, with me being like ‘what could he mean what could he MEAN’ typical mars in twelfth scenario. One guy I had this with in composite was basically lying to me about his sex life and not having cheated on his previous girlfriend… and guess what… I had lied about my sexual history too 😭 I even thought to myself ‘why the f*ck did I lie that elaborately??? I didn’t even have to??’ But whatever, it’s the way of the worlds apparently 😂 but you see how this immediately creates distrust when it is not actually what we mean to do or coming from a place of disrespect. Oh and this aspect in composite also created months of us being like ‘🧍🏻‍♀️….🧍🏻‍♂️’ not normal sexual tension, but sexual tension we weren’t sure should be concreticised out loud or in action. We’d only kissed once Monthsss before which is basically nothing in western european student culture. It was like: “does this person know I’m still, in this moment, attracted to/like him/her? Am I making this all up in my head?”

Moon in the 8th house: a lot has been said about this aspect. Just a few things: intensity, yes. Either one will always be a significant person for the rest the person’s lives. It’s not nothing. It’s the basis of real all consuming love that’s a very rare and unique mix between total safety and total rush-like danger, which makes people think it’s a soulmate aspect. It’s actually not, imo, it’s a deeply (deeeeply) karmic aspect. It’s funny to see all the friends with benefits who have this aspect start out as “lol we don’t want a relationship” to “……. Lol nevermind” and end up together. They go back to each other because they’re simply too significant to each other. Fear of being vulnurable is also big on both so they either take that step or they’re just standing there forever. Mutual aspect, but it’s mutual in different ways. Truthfully, I don’t see this aspect so often in relationship charts. I see it with people who are in love with each other and aren’t together, or people who started out casual but still for some reason can’t let each other go after more than a year, or people who have had the roughest most obsessive breakup in history and ask me for advice. Often, people in relationships who have this aspect don’t come to astrologers for advice. They’re too ‘into’ one another to do that, I feel like.

Venus trine moon: cute cute cUTE because the venus loves reassuring the moon person with affection, which makes the moon person feel so safe and endorphined and warm. The moon person simply inspires that in venus! Great for a chart with more difficult aspects !

Moon conjunct jupiter: so if a guy is jupiter and the moon is a woman and they’re married, the woman doesn’t need to worry about jupiter feeling turned off from the relationship by her pregnancy. Moon is the feminine, the nurturer, the mother, jupiter adores and respects her. Jupiter inspires respect, optimism, friendships and all things serotonin. Jupiter will make the moon feel good. The kind of union where the guy will constantly declare how much he lovees her pregnancy glow ✨ the same goes ofc for lesbian relationships but since this is a cultural phenomenon i thought i might touch on it.

Moon opposite jupiter: i feel like this might be the opposite story :/ the girls motherhood and need for support and needs in general will just be the opposite to what the jupiter person finds ‘fun’ and joyful, BUT if they’ve made it this far in the relationship as to have a child together it should be okay. At least the cause of the behaviour would moreso be astrology, not misogyny.

Moon square jupiter: wife jokes, but the ones that are cute and funny.

Moon in third:

Being someone with a moon in third house be like: wow imagine going through something hard and not type 10k words in your notes app about it.

Having your moon overlay in someone’s third house be like: wow imagine going through something and not telling that person 10k words about it

Also: jupiter has such an underrated influence on us in astrology!! Jupiter radiates the most energy out of all the planets in our solar system and may be way more personal and influential than we think in astrology… And in synastry also it’s the MOON

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mrsurahara · 8 months

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𝗗𝗢𝗠!𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗬 𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗖𝘀┊𝗔. 𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡

ఌ︎. p. Abby Anderson x f!reader // g. smut

ఌ︎. cw. SMUT [18+ MDNI— dom!Abby + sub!Reader, dirty talk, strap use (r!receiving), oral (abby + r!receiving), fingering (abby + r!receiving), thigh/forearm riding, strapwarming, hickeys, jealousy, spitting, choking, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spanking, bondage, vibrator use, bondage, teasing, overstimulation, face sitting, abby fucking reader’s face with her strap, clitwarming, masturbation, voyeurism, tribbing, pussy slapping, edging, safe word use, aftercareeee], use of feminine pet names, reader is described as having female anatomy— let me know if i missed any!

ఌ︎. wc. 1.1k

ఌ︎. summary: just some nasty headcanons abt my favorite girl

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

ఌ︎. a/n: i tried to keep these as neutral as possible so you could imagine the canon universe or a modern!au. i hope y’all enjoy! <3

Soft Dom!Daddy!Abby

❀ daddy!abby who whispers the sweetest words in your ear while she fucks you with your favorite strap

“you take me so well, baby,”

“just keep making those pretty noises for me,”

“oh, i know bun, but you look so pretty like this,”

❀ daddy!abby who worships your titties while you’re in her lap bouncing on her strap

❀ daddy!abby who wakes you up with her face between your legs and her thick fingers in rubbing the spongy spot inside your needy cunt

❀ daddy!abby who lets you get off by riding her thick thighs or her veiny forearms

❀ daddy!abby who gives her good girl any and everything she wants because you deserve the world

❀ daddy!abby who knows just how to make a bad day better— your favorite meal and a relaxing bath followed by an oil massage that leads to her fucking you into a peaceful sleep, cuddled in her strong arms

❀ daddy!abby who stuffs you full of her strap while you’re asleep or watching something together because it brings you comfort

❀ daddy!abby who gets off on making you cum— your sweet noises pushing her closer and closer to the edge

❀ daddy!abby who fucks and talks you through your orgasm

“cum for me, pretty girl,”

“there you go baby,”

“you’re so good for me, always so good for me,”

❀ daddy!abby who wakes up to you eating her out with your fingers stuffed in her cunt

❀ daddy!abby who leaves hickeys on your neck so everyone knows you’re hers

❀ daddy!abby who gets so possessive she has to drag you to the nearest private area and “refamiliarize” herself with your body

❀ daddy!abby who gets jealous when other people flirt with you so when you get home she reminds you of who makes you cream and scream every night

❀ daddy!abby who spits in your mouth after making you cum on her face

❀ daddy!abby who squeezes the sides of your throat until you cum— the rush of blood to your head and the stimulation to your pussy has you seeing stars every time

❀ daddy!abby who kisses away your tears when she’s just fucking you so good

❀ daddy!abby who lays you flat on your front as she fucks you from behind— her body draped over yours, her strap filling you up to the brim, the mattress beneath you pressing against the front of your abdomen adding an additional layer of pleasure

❀ daddy!abby who teases you all night— running her hands over your body, whispering her filthy desires into your ears. you just look so fucking pretty and she can’t get enough

❀ daddy!abby who lets you use her fingers to cum

it’s the middle of the night and you’re horny. you don’t know what triggered it, you just know that you need cum. you tried using your own fingers but they couldn’t reach where you needed them to. abby was asleep next to you. one arm tucked under her pillow and the other draped over your waist. you slid your panties down your legs, kicking them off somewhere under the sheets. you took hold of her hand and moved it to your mound.

you adjusted her fingers to run over your slick slit and pushed them into your needy cunt. once they reached that spot, you bit your lip to silence your moans. you used your own fingers to rub your clit until you were gushing all over abby’s hands.

when you opened your eyes you were met with abby’s sleepy eyes looking right at you. she leaned in closer, right at your ear and whispered, “make sure you clean up your mess,”

❀ daddy!abby who will spank you mid fuck if you try to deprive her of your pretty voice

Mean Dom!Mommy!Abby

❀ mommy!abby who uses the strap you hate— it stretches you out but it doesn’t reach as far as you need

❀ mommy!abby who ties you to the bed spread eagle and shoves a bullet vibrator into your cunt on the highest setting

❀ mommy!abby who had a bad day and needs to take it out on your cunt

❀ mommy!abby who will bend you over her knee and spank your ass until her handprint is welted into both your cheeks

❀ mommy!abby who teases you for getting off from your spanking

❀ mommy!abby who overstimulates you until she feels like stopping

❀ mommy!abby who sits on your face and grinds her pussy on you until she’s satisfied

❀ mommy!abby who lays on her back and hold your face to her cunt, drowning you in her juices

❀ mommy!abby who makes you get on your knees as she fucks your face with her strap

❀ mommy!abby who moans as if she can feel you gagging on her strap

❀ mommy!abby who makes you clitwarm her while she reads

❀ mommy!abby who makes you finger yourself while she watches

❀ mommy!abby who makes you get on top and rub your pussy on hers until she cums

❀ mommy!abby who loves to slap your pussy until you’re crying and squirting

❀ mommy!abby who smears your tears all over your face when you start to cry

❀ mommy!abby who makes you choke on her fingers while she pounds into your overstimulated pussy

❀ mommy!abby who punishes you for trying to get off without permission

❀ mommy!abby who pulls you away from the group to edge you

fucking you against the wall with her strap

fucking you with her fingers

making you bend over so she can eat you out from behind

denying you and orgasm until you return to the safety of your own home

even then… she still might draw it out until you’re crying and begging

❀ mommy!abby who drops the fantasy as soon as you say your safe word

abby’s quick to drop the act. restraints, toys, blindfolds, etc. are removed as quickly as possible

❀ mommy!abby who provides the best aftercare— holding you, kissing you, reassuring you

“i got you— breathe, baby,” abby cooed as she wiped at your sticky skin. she helped you sit up as you continued to catch your breath. grabbing the water bottle from the nightstand, she helped you drink from it. once you had your fill, you pushed the bottle away. abby pulled you close, planting kisses wherever she could reach. “you did so well for me, beautiful,” she kissed your lips sweetly, “do you need anything?”

“can you just hold me, please?”

abby gave you a gentle squeeze and one more kiss before tucking your head into her heck, “‘course i can, babe,”

ఌ︎. a/n: if you guys want me to go in depth for any of these hcs, just send in an ask! :)

#⌁₊˚⊹ mywriting ⊹˚₊⌁#wlw #lesbian #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x black!fem!reader #abby anderson smut #the last of us part 2 #the last of us 2 #x black!reader #x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #mommy!abby anderson #daddy!abby anderson #dom!abby anderson

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netherfeildren · 3 months

Text

10:05 PM

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you're there to make him feel better.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post Outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; Somnophilia; Established Relationship; Friends With Benefits, kinda; Free Use; PIV Sex; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Kind of mean and uncaring Joel, but at least he makes you cum; Rough Sex; Somno may or may not have been previously discussed, but she's okay with it happening; He's in kind of in a hopeless and numb state of mind (likely thing for Joel Miller to be)

A/N: idk man whatever i might look into religion after this

Word Count: 1.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

10:05 PM

He’s exhausted.

That sort of tiredness that takes you away from yourself. The sort that takes away rest and peace and the ability to let go. Like you’ve crossed over the edge of the world where sleep is no longer possible, and all you are is sore and dirty and beaten, and you don’t think you’ll ever rest again. It’s just the too hard day, and the too hot sun, and a night that won’t ever end.

And Joel is tired.

He knows if he falls into bed now, he won’t sleep. He’ll stare up at the water stained ceiling, the cracks in the plaster deeper than the cracks in his mind, and he’ll find no rest and no peace and no forget, and all he’ll do is remember.

Pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, he toes one unlaced boot off and then the other, the sweat damp cotton sticking cold and tacky to his back, and it peels off slow, a little disgusting, the grime of his shift all along his skin, in his hair, between his toes and under his fingernails and looking at you, the slow rise and fall of your shoulder as you sleep so peacefully, he knows he shouldn’t touch you, have you, know you.

He doesn’t really care.

The button of his jeans, sticky, warm summer night air against his already hardening cock, and he watches you. You’re wearing a little white tank, worn and frayed and old as a long past life, ratty panties, too hot to pull the sheet over yourself, nothing but a sheen of sweat for cover. You’re beautiful in the way things aren’t beautiful anymore. Beautiful in a way that makes him not want you. But you’re here, and you’re his, and you give him things he doesn’t deserve, yourself, and Joel is a selfish creature now, bad and bristled in the way this new world demands, so he takes.

All the time Joel Miller takes things.

He doesn’t love you because he can’t, because he doesn't have it in him. But there’s peace here, or comfort, or something easy and silent and freely given. Understanding, maybe, which is all anyone can ask for anymore. He shucks his grime covered jeans and crawls over you, and he shouldn’t touch you, never should have, but he does because, again, he’s selfish, he touches you because you let him, because he has nothing else but this to feel good and man about.

Hooking his fingers beneath the edge of your panties he pulls them down, slow and steady, watching the rise and fall of your ribs, steady heart in the steady rhythm of your breath. You’re still asleep, and he’s going to have you because he can, because you’re his without commitment or ask or demand. Because it’s easy.

He pushes a soft thigh up high, opening you to his gaze and pulls your cheeks apart gently, dragging a gentle thumb up the crease of your sex as he goes. You hadn’t waited up for him the way you did most nights, and he’s grateful for this, grateful for the fact that you’d spare him from conversation, questions, wants. All the things he can’t give you and doesn’t even really want to because he doesn’t have any of that in him anymore.

Sometimes, and he’ll admit it because Joel isn’t a liar, honest to a fault, he’ll feel that faint whisper, dream pulse of desire, like a thing he knows exists somewhere in the world just not inside him that beats of togetherness or commitment or love. Something that beats of all the things he knows you want but he can’t give.

His thumb against your little clit, and he circles and circles against the warm, damp dryness. You’re not dreaming of him, no immediate well of slick desire, and through his haze, it makes him a little bothered, a little sad if he still had the ability to be sad. But he circles and circles, and you shift and whimper, and then finally, eventually, there’s that drip of want. Sticky and sweet and only for him because he might not love you, but he does possess you, and you’re only for him.

You turn your face further into the pillow, hips hitching, cunt dripping, a deep sigh and his thumb presses in, tastes the well. You’re warm and hot and tight, and he slicks his thumb in and out of your cunt, fucking you slow and gentle, stretching you a little while you still refuse to wake for him. He wonders what it would be like to love you, to know you dream of him, to dream of you. He shoves your thigh higher, wet enough now, and lines his cock up.

Joel is tired, but he has this, and it’s enough.

Cockhead notched at your entance, and one thing he does still love: the sight of his too wide head against your too small hole, the sound of wounded hurt you make when he shoves inside and makes you all his. And he keeps himself slow and gentle at first, he doesn’t want you awake, that’s not what this is, he only wants you his and for him, until he’s all the way pressed inside, deep enough for you to wake with hurt and you shift and wiggle and your hips arch like you want to escape or want more but it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’re caught and flayed now.

“J– Joel?” Soft as a butterfly while your cunt flutters around him. “What’re you doing, Joel?” And if there wasn’t the moan of his own little whore in the sound of you, he’d think otherwise, but he knows you’re pleased to be woken so. You press and clench and stretch like a cat, spine long and lean and fluid, arms reaching for something he can’t and won’t ever give.

He swings his hips back, fucks in again, your cunt’s good and wet now, and the giving’s good as the take. “Don’t worry, baby. Just gotta come. You don’t gotta do anything.” He pulls back again, your pussy flutters and sucks at him, and you plant your hands against the apocalypse stained wall of this poor and sad room in a place that used to be called Boston and let him use you as he needs. Just gotta come in you, he tells you again.

And you might whisper that it’s okay, it doesn’t really matter if you do or don't’. He doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t need to care. Joel buries his face in your throat and loses himself in the wet of your cunt and the heat of your skin, the scent of your sweat, fingers clutching and twisting at your breast, and there's a sound of hurt or want coming from your throat. He doesn't care much about that either. Just take it, just take it, he says over and over. “Just lay there and take my cock.” The sound of your wet, sloshing cunt is the loudest thing in the whole dead world, and he loses himself in it. He counts his breaths, counts his not blessings, only you, and eventually, he fucks deep enough he hits your womb, that place he’s reckless and careless about, and you start to milk him deep. A moan of his name, Joel, sleep addled, love deluded, what else would excuse or allow treatment like this, and you come on his cock like you always do. Long pulls of a too easy, too delicious cunt, the contractions of your womb reverberating through every line of your muscles while you suck him deep and cry into the pillow. Joel swears and sweats worse than he did through his long twelve hour shift, grunting and panting above you. And when he anchors himself above you on locked, bulging arms to watch the drag of your red cunt around his cock, slicked with desperate want for something neither of you will ever have, the way your ass bounces and jiggles against his too rough thrusts, he comes too. Fills you deep and full to the brim, enjoys the spill of it around the place where he fills you, spills himself dry. And he doesn’t feel content, Joel, but he does feel satisfied, he does feel sated. And he tells you that you’ve been a good girl because he knows you like it and knows you deserve it. And if he presses a soft and gentle kiss to the wing of your naked and sweating shoulder, it isn't because he loves you, but because he needs you.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#vic fic #Joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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nayatarot777 · 3 months

Text

Lilith in Taurus/2nd House

this is intuitive astrology. meaning that i’m making these notes based on what i intuitively pick up about this astrological point being merged with these signs. take it with a grain of salt and understand that you might not relate to everything that i get from your placement 🖤

Astrology Masterlist

taurus is all about the physical realm, as it’s an earth sign. taurus energy is related to your physical senses, your physical appearance in terms of aesthetics, food, personal income + money - security, basically. everything that you need on a basic level to feel secure and comfortable as a person.

therefore, the experience of having lilith in taurus is one that includes people shaming you for wanting to feel comfortable and secure. people shaming your aesthetic, shaming you for wanting to look good, for wanting to make money, for wanting to enjoy the literal basic luxuries of life - even down to the food that you eat.

people made you feel ashamed for wanting to savour things - like the meals that you had. this placement will have people not liking when you seem comfortable and content. it’s hater energy to the fullest degree, coming from people who feel like they can’t relax and enjoy the simple joys of life themselves. so why should you, right?🙄

^ you ever had a parent (or anyone else for that matter) not enjoy you sleeping, eating, lounging around, and relaxing? no matter how much you may have worked hard for that entire week or month or few months even - as soon as they see you relaxing, it’s a problem. this is why. your lilith energy is a reflection of what they feel like they don’t have for themselves. they don’t have peace so they try to disturb yours.

your peace triggers people fr. when people can tell that you’re content in a situation or with life in general, they’ll bring some bs your way to disrupt that. of course these are usually people who are always in chaotic situations or who are just chaotic people mentally + emotionally themselves. they get jealous of you being the opposite (or at least seeming that way).

lilith in taurus/2nd house can also bring shame around food. it always reminds me of secret eating habits. i have lilith in taurus and i don’t like to eat in front of people. and this is all due to the fact that my father (i call him my sperm donor 🙃) would try to make me feel like i’m being greedy when i ate anything that i enjoyed. even if it was a regular portion of something. mind you, he’d get the munchies and eat everything in the house - even food that i bought myself for me or my little sister or brother. you see how no matter what lilith placement you have, people project what they know about themselves onto you, related to the energy of that sign or house?

lilith in taurus can definitely indicate eating disorders. a cycle between not eating anywhere near enough (basically starving yourself) to eating too much in one go - also known as binge eating.

you were also shamed for wanting things. maybe even accused of being ‘spoiled’. and you’re looking at these people who accuse you of that like “spoiled where? 🤨”. it’s because these toxic ass people didn’t want us to have the basic necessities of life. especially if you have toxic parents. you needing the basics is needing “too much” for these people. this may be why you feel like you can’t ever really truly enjoy what you have now. because there’s a subconscious belief that you “shouldn’t” have whatever you have. or that you don’t deserve it or some bs like that.

^ this can definitely pertain to money too. you may want money but when you get it, you blow it all too quickly on things that you’re not entirely happy with buying. it’s because you don’t know how to handle having money and feeling like you deserve that money. so you get rid of it as quickly as possible. remember what i said about being shamed for holding onto things that you enjoyed? for savouring the fact that you have something? now you feel like you can’t even enjoy what you have, so you cycle and blow through possessions and spending money. because you don’t feel right just enjoying the feeling of having it because of this shame.

people view you as someone who already has “too much” - even if you don’t have enough. they view you as someone who has ‘too much’ money, ‘too much’ beauty (as taurus is ruled by the planet venus), ‘too much’ peace, ‘too much’ stability. ‘too much’ power with your money, beauty, and your voice.

^ a lot of people with lilith in taurus/2nd house have really nice voices. you may experience people mistaking your regular tone or your friendly tone as a flirty or seductive tone. shit’s annoying.

taurus also rules your physical body. people will be jealous of this. doesn’t matter if you don’t fit into the standard of beauty when it comes to your body type. your body is attractive no matter what size, what shape, etc. if you’re a woman especially, you may have noticed how other women’s energy switches up when you wear something that shows your shape or your body more visibly. bitches be HATING. your body, your face, your aesthetic, your voice, your hair - everything to do with your appearance is a force to be reckoned with. which leads me to my next point:

people don’t like when we make ourselves look good. this placement always gives me the energy of people accusing us of “doing too much” when we wear makeup, or when we wear certain outfits. just when we dress up. because, again, we’re already perceived as people who have “too much” beauty. if you ever meet anyone like that, then FUCK THEM. they’re wanting to shame you just because they feel like they could never reach your level of beauty, and you’re making it harder for them to compete in their imaginary competition with you (unbeknownst to you) by making yourself more beautiful??? girl…👀

men who are intimidated by your beauty will also try to say slick shit about your clothes, your hair, or something about your physical appearance. you know when insecure men feel like you’re out of their league, so they have to try to “humble” you by negging you or some shit? they assume that you’re used to people treating you like you’re the prettiest/most attractive person in the room, so they have to be the one person who tries to bring you down because they’ve ASSUMED that you usually get put up on a pedestal. a pedestal that makes you unreachable to them.

^ you’ll probably experience this from women too who are in competition with you, but when it comes from men, it’s because they’re attracted to you but they feel like you wouldn’t be attracted to them. it’s coming from that perceived rejection that insecure men can never handle correctly 😂

your ability to dress in the way that you wanted to and to have the aesthetic that you wanted was also suppressed. that may be why you’re never happy with the clothes that you have. because they don’t actually resonate with you.

lilith in this sign/house denotes a very dark aesthetic, or one that just rebels against the ‘normal’ way of dressing and doing your makeup (or lack thereof) or your hair. so when you don’t embrace that, you’re going to have an issue with the way that you look. a dissatisfaction more than anything.

^ anybody else experience being treated like you were the biggest ‘slut’ for even showing a tiny bit of skin? you could wear a crop top and people will look at you like you stepped out of the house butt naked.

lilith in taurus or the 2nd house always reminds me of sex workers too. people who use their sexuality to gain personal income. or people who use a sexual aesthetic to make money. think of certain types of instagram models, dominatrix work (especially financial dominatrixes), strippers, etc. i feel like lilith in scorpio/8th house is more of an indication of sex work that involves actually having sex with clients for money (like prostitution). whereas lilith in taurus/2nd house is moreso using the aesthetics and image of being sexual to make money. i hope that makes sense 😂

#lilith #lilith in taurus #lilith in the 2nd house #2nd house #taurus #astro placements #astrology placements #astrology #astroblr #astro posts #astro notes

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abbyromanoff · 6 months

Note

can u write dark g!p nat x fem reader pls pls hehe ty

LOVE POTION

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x maximoff!reader

WORD COUNT: 1,919

WARNINGS: smut, dark!Nat, kinda dark!Wanda, manipulation, delusional!Nat, cheating, use of magic, mind games, small smut, pining, small angst, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Wanda, please!” Nat begged, feeling more hopeless as the witch tried to ignore her.

“I told you, Nat, I’m not letting you drug my own sibling!” She countered, setting her food down on the counter as she grabbed a fork to stab into the chicken. It was a new recipe she had been wanting to try out for months now and finally got to, if only Nat wasn’t bothering her only sense of peace.

“I’m not drugging them, I’m simply guiding them in the right direction.” Wanda rolled her eyes, chugging down the glass of water in front of her. She didn’t know how she got stuck in this mess, but she wished she never did. Everyone knew Nat was in love with you, except you. You seemed clueless to her obvious signs sent your way, or maybe you chose to ignore it.

She didn’t believe your girlfriend deserved you, she wasn’t right. She knew how you should be treated and loved, and she knew she’d have to be the one to show you.

“C’mon, you know they deserve better, and you know I can show them that.” Wanda sighed, forcing herself to rid the thoughts that she could be right away. Your partner wasn’t the best person in the world, and she definitely wasn’t the best to you. She tried putting it in your head what she knew, but you were oblivious to Sharon’s acts. Maybe you had noticed a few out-of-place acts, but you still loved her, you couldn’t just change that instantly.

“You know deep down they need to be saved or else they’ll never leave her-“

“Who they choose to love is not my business-“

“Who they choose to love is not who they should love, Wanda!” She started. “You can’t deny it, you know I’m right but you refuse to admit it.” There was a long beat of silence, neither of them deciding to fill it. Wanda looked down when she felt a hand on top of hers, caressing the skin soothingly.

“Please, I want to help them. It’ll only get worse if I don’t.” She remained quiet.

“Do you remember the first time you saw a bruise on their skin? You asked what it was from and you told me you could tell they were lying. Or when you found Y/N crying alone in their bed, you asked them what was wrong and they said they found a hickey on Sharon’s neck. Please, Wanda, you need to let me do this or they’ll never be safe. Don’t you want to save your little sibling?” She was manipulating her, she knew that, but she did it oh-so well. Wanda felt tears threatening to pool in her eyes as they layered a gloss.

“They can’t know about this. If they find out, I was never a part of it-“

“Of course, of course. I will never let them find out, and if they do, you didn’t have a single clue.” Wanda nodded slowly, putting her head in her hands while a sniffle left her.

“Well, when it’s done, let me know.”

The party was loud, creating a tense stimulation in your mind. You clawed at your fingers, playing with the promise ring your girlfriend had gotten you months ago. It didn’t shine like before, now it only held a dullness under the light.

“You want some company?” You heard a low voice come from behind you, turning around only to see your best friend, Nat. She had been with you through thick and thin, you loved her more than anything possible.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” A conversation struck between the two of you, and it felt like everything and everyone else disappeared. It was like sitting on clouds, it was just pure peace.

“I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” You chuckled, pulling down the side of your dress that chose to ride up. She eyed you teasingly, leaning in to give a small smirk while your gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly, you remembered Sharon who was just across the room. Instantly, you pulled back, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.

“Uh, you know what, maybe I will take one.” She nodded and left, returning moments later with your drinks. You didn’t notice or question the slight glow surrounding your glass, only chugging down the liquid until your throat burned.

“Fuck, this is strong. What is this?”

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes before she rested her hand on your thigh, rubbing soft and gentle circles that brought you ease.

“Alright, I think me and Y/N should be heading out right about now.” Came your girlfriend's voice. You could sense the jealousy and fury roaming in her tone, she never was one to like your friends. She assumed they took advantage of your kindness and innocence, but in Nat’s mind, so did she.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nat decided to let you go without argument, knowing that her plan had worked. The drink should only take a few hours to start working, and then, you’ll be all hers.

“See you soon, Y/N.” You waved in return with a small smile, clutching onto your girlfriend's forceful hold. Her fingers were interlaced with yours, creating redness the harder she squeezed.

“Sharon, you’re hurting me.” She stopped, turning to look at you with flared nostrils, her mouth slightly agape before a hand came up to your neck.

“You’re mine, you got that? Not Nat’s; mine.”

The month flew by quickly, most of your time being spent working or entertaining your girlfriend in your shared apartment. But something was different, something felt odd but you couldn’t quite explain it.

You didn’t know why you felt this way, but it felt as though a pit was formed at the bottom of your stomach, and every time Nat would be nearby, butterflies surrounded that cluster. Your brain would turn foggy and your pupils would dilate, these were all signs that you knew all too well. This is what you felt for Sharon; felt. Past context. Of course, you still cared for and loved her, but it wasn’t the same as before. Any time you’d share an intimate moment, you imagined your best friend. It only got worse the more you saw her, and the less you saw the blonde.

She had been on a mission for a week now and, you hated to admit it, but it felt almost relieving to have her gone. You loved her company, but you felt so guilty in her presence. Her absence also gave you time to think, but the only thing that would come to your mind is Nat. It’s gotten so bad that one night you awoke from a lustful dream where Nat was the star.

“Hey, babes.” The voice brought you out of your trance, causing you to jump before you saw who it was.

“Jesus, Nat, you scared me.” She chuckled with a small apology when you slapped her arm lightly, nearly shuddering as you felt the biceps bulging beneath her shirt.

“Did you just finish working out?” You asked curiously, although you already knew the answer.

“Yeah, Steve gave me a new schedule for once. Why, you need a training partner?” She hoped you’d say yes, that way she could be as close to you as possible.

“Uh, I was actually hoping you could help spot me. I want to hit a new PR.” She nodded while taking a sip of her water, her jawline seeming to shine perfectly under the light. You gulped, suddenly finding the floor much more important.

“Of course, you know I love helping my favorite Maximoff.”

“I’ll tell Wanda you said that.”

“Go ahead, I think we all know I’m not her favorite person either.”

The weights were heavy against you, but you continued to pull through with the help of the redhead. You couldn’t help but notice the proximity between you two, the thought sending you into waves of arousal. Her crotch was pressed against your ass, her arms hovering over your waist as her face was so close to your neck, you imagined her lips painting the skin with purple hickeys.

“C’mon, you can do more!” You whimpered as your legs struggled to lift you, Nat quickly stepping in to pull you up when realizing you couldn’t do it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, I can usually get at least six reps on that.” You sighed, biting your lip as your chest heaved for hope of oxygen.

“You’re distracted. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours that has you so out of it?” She leaned down to become level with you as you crouched, lowering your head in annoyance.

“Nothing, alright? I’m just having an off day.” She huffed, clearly not believing your lie.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Y/N. Seriously, I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.” Her hand came to your shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture, but it only caused you to pull away.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Her eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting as her eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t bear to look at her face without being tempted to pull her in and kiss her then and there, confessing everything that had been brewing in your mind for what felt like years.

“What?”

“Maybe you’re my problem, Nat.”

“H-how? What did I do?” You didn’t give a response, causing her to ask again. She was worried her plan went to failure, maybe Wanda went behind her back to protect her sibling. No, she couldn’t have, Nat knew her well enough to know she fell for her manipulation so easily.

“Nothing, that’s the problem! You sit there, looking so fucking perfect all the damn time and I hate it! I hate how much I just want to hold you, and kiss you, and care for you, but I can’t have that. I can’t have you, Nat.” Her heart swelled in delight; it worked. The magic worked and now it was all in her hands, she wasn’t going to mess this up.

She quickly strutted forward, grasping the sides of your face as she pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that you melted into instantly. Sharon was completely ridden from your mind, all you cared about was this. Nat was here, you were her, everything else could come later.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” She pressed her lips to the side of your neck, inhaling the scent you radiated. You felt amazing in her arms, she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Natty.” Your breath was short, your smile sending Nat into a trance. She wasn’t going to let you go, you were safe with her.

Wanda walked into the gym, noticing two bottles of water that had been knocked over. She furrowed her brows in confusion before a small sound came from the showers. She could sense it was you, but Sharon was still gone. That’s when it hit her, Nat’s bottle was right next to yours. It worked, the drink she created worked.

She felt so guilty, she never wanted to hurt you, but she knew your girlfriend would only cause harm. She didn’t know what to do, she could only hope you’d never find out. And if you did, she didn’t have a single clue about any of this.

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victimsofyaoipoll · 6 months

Text

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months

Text

Presents (part two)

Part 1

Summary: Y/n has found her mate, and she will not tolerate any untoward behaviour towards him. Especially from her family.

And she will show them exactly what will happen if her mate does not get the respect he deserves from them.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: *dreamy sigh*

enjoy! ❣️

•○🌑○•

It was one of the family dinner nights, so that meant everyone was going to be present in the river house.

It also meant Y/n was on edge.

She was no child who didn't understand when someone disliked a person, and she was also very good at reading people, so that meant she understood very perfectly that her family was not very fond of her mate.

For whatever reasons she could not understand.

It was also the first time she would be meeting her family after almost two months of the mating frenzy having Lucien and Y/n locked away in the cabin Y/n owned in the in the Illyrian steppes.

He had her busy for two. Fucking. Months.

Y/n was not complaining.

Not when she found herself being wrapped up in his warm body afterwards, soothing all the pleasant aches in her body. And simply just watching him lie next to her, knowing he was hers and completely hers, watching peace settle into the harsh lines of his cruel face...

Yeah, she definitely was not complaining.

The voice she had come to love since the moment she met him called out her name, and she rushed downstairs to meet him in the foyer.

There he stood, facing the doorway and fixing the cuffs of his dark blue shirt which clung to him in the most delicious ways possible, the stark wite pants she had picked out for him accentuating his thighs and ass. His fiery hair hung around his shoulders, a small bun on the back of his head, the thin braids Y/n had insisted on making hanging between the loose strands... he looked mouth watering, to say the least.

He turned to her as soon as she stepped closer to him, and smiled.

Every thought flew out of Y/n's head as she watched his forearms flex while he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, the chunky bracelet Y/n had asked him to wear sitting snugly on his wrist, shining in the dim lighting.

"Y/n?"

Y/n blinked, her eyes moving slowly to meet his. "Hmm?"

A small grin spread on his face, and he leaned forward to tap her nose. "I asked if you were ready."

"Oh? Oh yeah, I am ready."

His grin widened, ad he leaned forward to place a soft kiss to her lips. "Then we better get going before we decide it's not worth socialising."

"What makes you think I am not already thinking about that?"

Lucien threw his head back as laughter poured out of his pretty lips, and Y/n held herself back from acting on the urge to taste his laughter.

He had been laughing a lot these days, and a warmth spread through Y/n everytime she heard the beautiful sound.

As soon as Y/n went to retrieve her shoes, Lucien grabbed them, then crouched in front of her.

"Let me." He gently grasped one of her ankles in his hands, slipping on her heels.

"Lucien, you don't need to do that-" She whispered, pink tinting her cheeks.

"But I want to."

Once he was done, he stood, dusting of his pants, He extended his elbow, inclining his head towards the door, his eyes shining. Y/n grabbed onto him as the two of them winnowed from the snowy mountains to the pathway leading to the river house.

"After you, my lady." He opened the door for her, waiting until she had entered the warm space before following.

Feyre and Nyx came into view as soon as Y/n and Lucien had hung their coats on the rack.

"Y/n! It's been so long! I hope you had a fun time." Feyre wiggled her brows, and Y/n rolled her eyes, picking up a giggling Nyx and walking into the sitting room where everyone was sat.

Cassian stood, a wide grin on his face, as he made his way towards Y/n.

"Where have you been? Rhysand wouldn't tell us other than you being on a mission." Cassian glared accusingly at Y/n's brother, but then he froze. His eyes widened, then flew to Lucien, who stood just behind Y/n.

His mouth opened a couple of times, eyes moving rapidly between Y/n and Lucien, before he gagged a little.

"I hope you don't start fucking on every surface in this house. It is not appropriate."

Y/n raised her brows. "You would know a lot about appropriate behaviour, right?"

Cassian grinned, pulling her in for a hug, and Y/n could feel Lucien suppressing the urge to growl in possessiveness. "Congratulations, you two."

Then, to Y/n's surprise, after Cassian let go of her, he pulled Lucien in for an embrace too. By the look on Lucien's face, he hadn't expected it either, though he appreciated it.

That was when Y/n noticed the stillness in the air in the room, and she glanced around to find Mor, Amren and Azriel in various states of shock, with Feyre smiling at Cassian and his antics in teasing Lucien, Rhys staring into the fire place, his hand wrapped around his glass of wine.

•○●⛦●○•

"You seem a little shocked." Y/n mumbled, accepting the glass Feyre passed to her after everyone had settled down on the dining table. The spread of food on the table surprisingly only consisting of all of Y/n's favourites.

"No one told us about you- and him." Mor returned, colour climbing up her cheeks in embarrassment.

Y/n rose a questioning brow at Rhysand, who splayed his palms in the air. "I thought you might want to tell them yourself. I didn't realise you would be away for almost two months."

The last part was mumbled, and it brought out a blush on Y/n's face thinking about exactly what happened in that time.

"So... you are mates?" Mor questioned, and Y/n could tell she was uncomfortable.

Y/n grinned proudly, nudging a smiling Lucien's shoulder with hers. "Yeah. We are."

"Congratulations." Mor mumbled, her eyes trained on her food.

"Pity." Amren said, emotionless.

The whole room fell silent, the air becoming heavy and strained.

Y/n's blood boiled, her fingers tightening on her fork as she stilled. Lucien had stiffened too, though he did not look up from his food. Y/n glanced at him, finding him chewing tightly as he blew out a breath.

And then Y/n let her eyes flit to Amren, who didn't bother to even pretend like she had said something wrong. She took a deep drink from her goblet, her eyes never leaving the contents of her goblet or food.

Y/n set down her fork, leaning back in her seat. She stared at Amren, taking in all the features the petite female had as she imagine how fun it would be to gouge out her eyes with her bare hands, how fun it would be to peel the skin off the ancient being's bones.

Rhys whispered her name, trying to get her attention. Y/n could see in her peripherals that Lucien was straightening too, his eyes now trained on Y/n. His hand came to rest on her thigh.

"Y/n." He mumbled, and Y/n could feel him opening up a window in his mental shields to get her to talk to him.

Y/n was also aware of how Azriel and Cassian went stiff, their shoulders bunching up as if ready to spring up any moment to restrain anyone who might jump up to attack.

"What did you say, Amren?" Y/n's voice was deceptively calm and soft, as if she wasn't planning on torturing the living daylights out of Amren, her ancient powers be damned.

"Y/n." Rhysand spoke more insistently, his panic beginning to come off of him in waves.

Amren met Y/n's eyes then, her eyebrows rising. "I said pity. It would have been better to be without a mate than have a coward and backstabber for one. Amarantha should have pulled out his heart instead of his eye."

She said it so nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather and not a literal being. As if she knew she was right. As if what she was saying couldn't have hurt anyone.

Y/n could not stop her power from escaping the leash she kept on them.

She did not even try to control them, anyway.

Her mind opened up, the power she contained in herself reaching out to caress the massive fortress Amren had around her mind.

Amren jerked, her eyes widening just a fraction when Y/n brought down a battering ram on the walls.

It took a lot of effort to reach Amren's brain, but Y/n didn't mind, not as panic flared in Amren's ancient gray eyes when Y/n didn't stop, the walls around her mind crumbling until there was nothing but dust left, even as Y/n was left panting from the amount of force it took to do that.

Y/n purred in satisfaction in Amren's brain, stalking around her consciousness for a moment before Y/n sunk her claws into her.

What the hell are you doing, girl? Stop!

Amren's panicked voice filled Y/n's head as her surroundings faded, and she focused solely on controlling this powerful being.

Apologise to him, Amren, and maybe I will consider letting you go without much harm.

No! Amren spat, though her fear rose like a tide.

Y/n smiled, a fire lighting in her veins.

Then say goodbye to you sanity, Amren.

Y/n reached into Amren's mind, dragging up the memories that were buried the deepest, and without looking at them herself, she projected it directly into Amren's brain, making her believe she was reliving the horrors.

Amren began screaming, clutching her head as she stood, the chair screeching loudly before it fell with a crash, and everyone around the table stood, not knowing what to do.

Please stop! Stop! I will beg for his forgiveness. Please, just stop!

Y/n let the memory go, though her talons stayed embedded in Amren's mind.

Amren panted, her eyes flitting up to meet Lucien's, who stared back, wide eyed.

"Sorry." She gritted out, clutching the table with her hands.

Y/n clucked her tongue mentally.

Sorry for what, Amren? I know you can do better. Come on, don't be a brat.

Y/n spoke softly, caressing Amren's mind with a soft touch, as if talking to a kid.

"I am sorry, Lucien." Amren glared at Y/n when she retracted her claws just the tiniest bit. "Please forgive me. I should not have said that."

Satisfied, Y/n pulled away her talons, meeting the wide eyes of Mor and Azriel, letting a bit of her powers show in her gaze before settling back into her chair as if nothing happened and picking up her fork.

Lucien leaned in after he had sat back down, his breath curling around Y/n's ear as he whispered, his mouth close to her. "That's my lady."

A blush spread across her face, and she met his eyes for a moment as he leaned back, turning to his food.

"You know, this chicken is really good." Y/n mumbled-if only to pretend like she was not holding herself back from jumping her mate's bones- genuinely impressed as everyone began settling down. Except for Amren, who stormed out of the room, but not before Y/n spied a hint of fear in her eyes.

Y/n sighed. She would have to apologize to Amren later when everyone had gone to sleep.

Y/n didn't hate Amren, at least not yet. But if Y/n had not done what she did, everyone would have continued walking all over her mate. It was a necessarry evil, and Y/n was all too happy to do it if it meant everyone treated her mate with even a fraction of what he deserved.

Not that she was planning to stay long enough for them to get a hold of themselves.

It was a few moments before the tension in the room began lessening, and Y/n continued eating.

It took even longer for everyone to start talking again.

And when they did, Y/n felt Lucien opening his mind once again, and this time she slipped in.

Yes?

She could feel his pride, though his face was expressionless as he chewed and listened to the debate Rhys and Cassian were engaging in.

You want to go home?

Y/n grinned, knowing her answer but still deciding to tease him a little. Will there be dessert?

If you want there to be. A small smirk made its way onto his face.

Hmm. I guess we could go...

He shook his head slightly, shifting in his chair.

That was when Y/n realised that he was masking his scent, because what she saw under the table... everyone would have been aware of his little situation by now.

Y/n's mouth dried, and she swallowed. "Um... We both are a little tired, so we will be taking our leave now."

Cassian's brows rose. "One would assume you are going home to get tired."

Lucien laughed softly, his eyes crinkling as Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Bye, Nyxie." Y/n waved at the little boy, who babbled at her.

Y/n stood, grinning when Lucien glanced at her helplessly.

I can't stand like this!

She laughed, grabbing his hand and winnowing away, the last sight she saw being a giggling Cassian and Rhys, shaking his head with a smile.

The moment Y/n and Lucien materialized in the foyer of the hidden away mountain home, his lips were on hers, his hands gripping onto any part of her he could reach.

Y/n kissed him back without any hesitation, laughing a little at his desperation. He nipped at her lower lip in retribution, and Y/n pulled away, grinning up at him, though it took a great effort to do that.

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead on hers. Y/n's arms hung loosely around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

It took a moment for the both of them to catch their breath, but when they did, Lucien stole the breath away from Y/n again when he opened his eyes.

Swimming in his eyes was so much love... Y/n could have never fathomed someone ever looking at her with such emotion.

He smiled softly. "Thank you-"

"Don't." Y/n mumbled, caressing his jaw. "Don't thank me for that. For anything."

His eyes shone, and Y/n knew the silver lining his eyes was not because of his sadness.

He was happy, and he practically glowed with it.

"I love you. So much. I can't even imagine how I ever lived without you before."

Y/n laughed, tears springing to her own eyes. "Stop, you are going to make me cry."

"I will wipe the tears for you then, but I will never stop telling you how much I love you."

Y/n brushed her nose against his before she buried her face in his neck, gigging.

"I love you. And I would level the whole of Prythian if it meant no one would ever disrespect you ever again."

"I'm sure that won't happen again." He said dryly.

Her cheeks were hurting from how hard she was smiling, but Y/n did not care.

"So, where were we?"

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Lucien taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @mirandasidefics @sidrapotter

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erinfern0 · 4 months

Text

no words were needed.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: you and simon were friends as long as you remember. maybe that was the reason why the two of you were so blind to the feeling hidden so deeply inside.

warnings: hurt/angst to comfort and fluff. cocky teasing, mention of abuse, swearing, smoking, terrible date, insecurities, self-doubt, jealousy, protective simon.

a/n: based on this lovely request, the only thing I decided to change is that i made the reader gender-neutral, not including any specific pronouns, just a little preference of mine.

You and Simon were always there for each other, since the day you two met. Not only because the two of you were neighbors — living just a couple of houses away from each other, but also because your parents were friends. Both of your fathers served in the military, and mothers always found time to chat and see each other when their husbands were away.

You always adored the tiny gentleman in him, he was like a brother to you, always finding ways to comfort you and help whenever you needed it. And you were there for him too, watching him exorcise or patching up all the little scruffs and wounds he had. You spent hours upon hours in your room just so he could escape from the rough household he had to grow up in.

Your house became his home, and he always felt like a brother to you, protecting you from possible dangers and people you'd rather not deal with. That was until high school, when you realized he's not the cute little boy he used to be. He turned a little colder, focusing on his grades and physique to appeal to his father's wishes.

Watching him lose himself broke your heart, especially after you realized you were catching feelings for him. You hid it well, trying not to get too close to him to not add burdens to his already high pile of them. You brought peace to his life that you didn't want to ruin.

No words were needed between the two of you to know exactly what you were thinking, well, most of the time. You always joked that you shared some braincells as you had the same type of humor and shared some interests.

He was slightly older than you, just a couple of months apart, and as soon as he turned 18, he started applying for the military. He worked his ass off, and you just supported him, reminding him how much he deserves to get in and how well he'll do as a soldier.

And you, too, had to work hard, studying for your exams. Ever since you turned 18 too, you felt the pressure of being an actual adult, having to apply for colleges and part-time jobs to not feel like a parasite to your parents.

Now, you were sitting in your room by your desk, spreading notes all over it and highlighting the most important parts when you heard footsteps coming upstairs. Not anyone from your family members. They belonged to Simon. Your heart rushed for a split second before he entered your room, hood covering most of his head and face.

“Learn to knock, Riley.” you turned towards him and smiled lightly. “I could have been naked, you know?”

“Wouldn't complain.” he chuckled as he walked to your desk and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Simon earned himself a light smack to his forearm for his comment. His head fell on your shoulder, watching you write over one of the pages. “Still studyin'?”

You groaned in frustration, head falling back against his body as he just laughed and ruffled your hair. Then, he just patted your shoulders and pulled away from the hug to sit on your parapet.

Closing your textbook and spinning around in your chair, you watched him lean against the wall and grab a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “So, um… How was your date?”

His question caught you off guard, stopping you in your movements and just staring at the ceiling, thinking about the answer. Telling him the whole truth might be hurtful, not only for him and you but also to him and you'd never risk that.

Well, the only reason you even agreed to go was because he was slightly similar to Simon, a tall blonde gym rat who likes books and video games. You were naive thinking that he'll ever replace Simon. By the end of the date, you decided to tell him the truth, that you already had feelings for another man, and you are sorry for possibly leading him.

He turned out to be less sweet than you believed him to be, immediately getting mad at you for, as he phrased it: 'wasting his time'. This made you think so hard, how could you be anyone's type if the only person you truly want is your best friend?

“It was fine until it wasn't.” you claimed, immediately regretting your words as soon as you looked at Simon.

The hood was gone, leaving you to see the expression on his face. The frown of his brows and that spark in his eye made a chill run down your spine. Concern? Worry? Anger? You couldn't tell, but it wasn't anything nice.

“What did that prick do, huh?” he asked and looked at you while blowing out some smoke towards the opened window. That's when the light hit his face, showing you the bruise forming on his cheekbone.

“Again?” you whispered breathlessly, getting up from your seat to appear in front of him seconds later. Your fingers caught his chin, turning his face so you could see it better.

“Don't switch the topic on me.” he groaned with annoyance, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist to pull your hand away from him. Seeing your face so upset, analyzing every little scratch on his face, especially the purple mark splashed on his side, he just sighed, shaking his head.

“Answer for an answer?” you asked, recalling a little rule the two of you had since your early childhood. His tongue brushed over his teeth as his mouth was closed, just accepting his fate.

“I asked first.” he barked, forcing a smirk on his chopped lips. His legs part, inviting you a little closer, and allowing you to wrap your arms around his torso. One of Simon's arms rested on your shoulder while the other held his cigarette away from you. “Plus, you already know the answer to your question so...”

“It wasn't that bad, it's just… We weren't a match, that's it.” you started, watching him raise his eyebrow in disbelief, knowing you too well to just believe it was the only reason. “God, you're annoying.” you huff and roll your eyes.

“Proud of it, too.” he shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the window to watch you squirm and collect your thoughts. That's what you thought he was doing, but actually, Simon's eyes were just wandering over your face to admire you, even if for just a couple of seconds.

Every little detail of your face was mapped in his head, knowing every curve and blemish, every beauty mark or scar that you had. He adored every part of you, especially your eyes that looked so lost in thought, so easy for him to get away with his actions.

“He was nice, we went for a walk in the park nearby. Then I just realized he… Wasn't exactly the person I was looking for, and I told him that.“ you met his gaze, dark browns hazed with nicotine, eyelids heavier than usual. His pupils were blown out, twitching as he looked into your own eyes. “I think I wasn't too gentle with it, he got so upset.”

Your gasp made his body stiffen in alert, the hand that rested on your shoulder gently squeezing it to encourage you to speak. His expression was puzzled, as if he was shifting between different emotions, analyzing the way your eyes fluttered. Of course, he didn't miss the water collecting in the corners of your eyes.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and quieter than before, as if you were a deer caught in the headlights. A dainty, sweet little fawn that he wished he could take care of better. His expression softened, the clench in his jaw relaxing under your touch,

“Not upset like that.” you assured, pulling away to rest your hands on his sides, gripping the material of his hoodie. The material is soft and smells so comfortable. The mix of his cologne and cigarettes, despite how much you hated him smoking, the scent always warmed your heart.

“He said something, didn't he?” he asked, teeth clenching as you nodded your head. “Take your time.” as he soothed your hair, the cigarette was thrown into the ashtray you got for him. His now free hand reached to your forearm, drawing calming shapes on your skin, causing goosebumps.

“Well, he just said that I'm wasting his time, how much he regretted seeing me that day because I turned out to be an 'indecisive little baby'. He…” you let out a shaky breath, trying so hard not to show him how much the guy's words hurt you. “He said I was unattractive and boring anyway. He just left me there.”

“Why didn't you call?” he asked, his jaw clenching again, and you felt the muscles of his back tensing under your fingertips. He shifted uncontrollably, trying to stay calm for you. “He'd have to look for his teeth in the fuckin' ground.”

You shook your head, trying to push away the image of Simon covered in the guy's blood, panting heavily with anger. Knowing how much he cared made you feel even worse for telling him all of this.

Simon's mind was somewhere else. Yes, of course, he'd beat the living shit out of your awful date, but what mattered more, the most, was you.

“You told me not to go, and I didn't listen.” you reminded him, biting your inner cheek to keep your composure. “You were right about him from the start, I just… Didn't want to bother you.”

“You'd never bother me, doll.” he assured, leaning closer to you. His face was mere inches away from yours, eyes scanning from your brows to your lips, stopping there for a second before he got right back to your eyes. “All he said was pure bullshit, I hope you know that.”

Your lack of response, and the nervous swallow you did, made his heart sink in realization. Of course, you'd listen to the man who was so direct rather than your friend who admired you in silence. You couldn't see yourself from his perspective.

You couldn't see how much he looked up to you, your soft and kind nature, how much he adored your voice when you rambled about school, friends, and your hobbies. Likewise, you didn't see your body like he did, as pure perfection. Furthermore, you didn't deserve to hear so many lies from such an insecure little fucker who got upset he wouldn't fuck you, as Simon thought.

The room was awfully quiet, as you closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying. He could see it, and it made him even more mad, not at you. At himself. How could he be so blind?

Now, sitting so close to you, thinking over all the ways he could show you how wrong the guy was, it hit him. He felt it before, the way his heart sped up thinking about you. How you were the first thing he thought in the morning after he woke up and the last thing before he went to bed. You were always on his mind, a fever dream of your touch, words, and smile wandering every time he needed comfort.

That's so obvious. He was stupid to believe the reason he was so mad when you mentioned your date was just because he had a bad feeling about him. He just wanted it to be him. All those years, he was just so blind.

Simon loved you like a madman, worshipping the ground you walk on and feeling lucky he could breathe the same air as you. He craved your comforting touch, you were the reason he liked to be touched in the first place, always pulling away from hugs too soon before he met you.

He swallowed harshly, shifting in his seat again, pulling you closer as he cupped your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, moving up to wipe a couple of tears that ran down your face.

"Look at me, please." his voice cracked, eyelids fluttering as his mouth felt incredibly dry. Licking his lips, he smiled softly as he saw you slowly open your eyes, looking at him with such a questionable mix of emotions. "You deserve way better than that dumb fuck." he spat out, holding back from saying 'I'd treat you better.'

"He was right, Si. I agreed to go even if I knew I didn't want any of it, I didn't want him." you whispered shakily, your hands resting atop his, Despite your state, you melted under his touch, hoping it'd last forever.

"Even if you knew that, he should be lucky you gave him a chance." his comment made the two of you chuckle softly, catching each other's gaze. You felt lost in his eyes, the dreamy brown making your legs feel weak like cotton. "Who did you want then?"

'You were the one I wanted.' you thought to yourself, immediately scolding yourself for even thinking that. His hands caressing your face felt warm, they felt like the comfort you so desperately needed.

You felt your cheeks get warmer as he got closer, and for a split second, you thought he heard your inner voice. Despite your worries, Simon didn't look away or leave, he just stared into your eyes as if they were the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

"He's a fool for losing you, sweetheart." his voice echoed in your head, making you feel giddy at the raspy sound of the nickname he gave you. He never called you that before. It slipped so easily off his tongue, sounding so perfect.

Seconds later, you felt courageous. 'Now or never.' the little voice inside your head whispered, taking over your body and inching closer to him. Lips almost touching as you clung to his hoodie, trying to pull him towards you.

Simon was faster, his lips hungrily latching onto yours in a rushed, messy manner. It felt like he waited for this moment all his life, fingers holding your face as close to him as possible. His body slid off the windowsill, standing on his feet and pulling your bodies against each other.

One of your hands rested on his chest, grasping the soft material with your shaky fingers, the other running up his body to find its' place in his hair, tugging on the ends. Your action caused him to groan, deepening the kiss with the way you tilted your head, allowing the two of you to lose yourselves.

It was fast, messy, and greedy. The way he turned you around so you'd lean against the wall, letting him cage you in his embrace made you gasp into his mouth. Simon felt himself growing breathless, but it didn't matter.

That's when you felt it. You felt his love in such a different way than before. It was strong, storming into you like a hurricane to leave your mind a hazed mess. All you could think about was the fast beating of his heartbeat under your fingertips, the way he melted into your body as the kisses slowed down, turning into short pecks.

A string of saliva connected the two of you as you pulled away, catching your breaths. Foreheads touching, Simon's thumb rubbing your swollen lower lip, feeling the mix of spit under the pad of his finger.

You felt heavenly, tears almost spilling again as you realized that your crush on him wasn't just a crush. It was hard for you to admit your love to him, but now you could hear the mean voices in your head go away with the way he held you so close to him.

And for the first time in a while, Simon felt at peace, knowing he was right where he belonged. You were the light he was chasing in the dark tunnel of his life and now he could just have you. He felt your arms wrapped around him so tightly, he couldn't focus on anything else. He felt stronger than ever, cared for, loved.

No words were needed between the two of you as you just stood there, bodies tangled, and leaned against the wall to keep the two of you from falling to the floor from how shaky your legs were.

No words were needed for the two of you to admire the moment of quiet, peaceful breaths syncing with each other.

No words were needed for the two of you to admit how blind you were, not noticing or not admitting your feelings for each other.

No words were needed to express the love you felt for each other, just as it's always been.

masterlist | request info

#simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost #cod mw2 #fanfiction #cod mwii #gender neutral reader #riri writes

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rustytrident · 1 year

Text

mc's ultimate guide to visiting the devildom!!

a comprehensive guide to being an exchange student to the devildom by yours truly, mc.

ch: diavolo, barbatos, lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

cw: none (relationships between the characters are meant to be platonic, though i could make a nsfw version of this)

a/n: this is a long ass post ‼️‼️ i tried to be as objective as possible but idk if any biases came through. i also literally thought of this while i was cleaning my bathroom so the idea may be shitty,,, get it?? cause i was,,, cleaning my bathroom,,,, , , the idea may be shitty,,,,,, ,,,, okay so the punchline is that since i was cle-

lifestyle:

wear gloves. for everything

trust your sense of smell. if something smells too good or too bad, get the fuck away from it

write your name on the hem of your clothes

always check if something can be consumed by humans. trust me, you'd rather go hungry for a little longer than grow a limb from your stomach

don't look people in the eye when walking past them. stare straight ahead, shoulders square

learn who you can lie to and who you can't. trust your gut with that, though most demons have tells you'll need to learn

keep track of your health and request check ups from human doctors

generally, don't be afraid to ask for anything. you deserve nice experiences, as well as, ,,, yknow,,,,, checkups

take pictures of everything

don't touch books unless a trusted demon tells you it's okay

don't lose touch with your culture. implement it everywhere, from your room to your food to your music. teach your housemates all you know about it

remember you are surrounded by demons. don't tease them, don't tempt them (unless you have a pact or a pretty decent relationship with them)

the royal family:

the devildom is currently under monarchy. you will only interact with the prince, diavolo, and his butler, barbatos.

diavolo knows. he always has, he always will. don't lie to him

don't be too friendly with him for the first four months

absolutely be friendly with him after those four initial months

between us, he needs friends. and beings who don't treat him like he's fragile.

he likes games of any kind. use that to your advantage

barbatos seems scary, and he is. but you can trust him

do go over for tea if he invites you. he has an affinity for cooking and baking (mostly baking – teach him any cool recipes you may know!), and likes to serve whatever he makes with a warm cup of tea

do not, under any circumstances, even so much as mention anything about rats to him. for interworld peace

diavolo will always come first for him. don't test or question their bond, our brains are probably incapable of perceiving its magnitude

the king is just. there. but like, not even there. currently asleep

the queen is dead (unfortunately, this phrase is not seen as something positive in the devildom. don't ever say it)

the brothers:

probably the ones you'll be living with. then again, maybe not. part of the student council, and diavolo's closest companions (you'll be seeing a hearing a lot from them).

lucifer is... nice. once you get to know him. give him some time

he's very sad, very overworked. kinda like a wet cat with a family to feed. stroke his ego about twice a week and you'll be good

don't put up with what he says if it makes you uncomfortable, and don't be afraid to speak up. if you need backup, go to satan and/or belphegor

he loves music. if you want to get to know him better, ask him if he would like to talk to you about his favourite songs (they're most likely from cursed records, so listening to them is not an option)

mammon will most likely steal from you. again, put your name on everything, take pictures of everything.

the friendliest of all of them, along with beelzebub, and one of the most loyal ones

loud and a tsundere. don't ask how that works. also, very funny (laugh at his jokes even if you don't like them)

he doesn't know what boundaries are. set yours early and don't follow along with his schemes if you don't like them. he's got puppy eyes, don't fall for them

leviathan is an introvert, and antisocial. don't pressure him to talk to you.

if you're dead set in getting closer to him, do it through asking what game he's playing, or what anime he's watching. his interests are the only way he will open up

he will talk a lot if he likes the subject. he also knows every meme out there, so you can be free to say anything

he's very insecure, and will sometimes guilt trip you without realising. stay firm in your beliefs and be honest with him (do not anger him unless you know how to swim)

satan being the avatar of wrath shouldn't scare you. just don't mention anything good about lucifer during the first few months of you being there, and you'll be good

he likes books, and has learnt to be very open with his affections through them. if he likes you, you will know

again, he likes books. want him to like you? ask for recommendations, plots, ideas, poems. he's got you covered

he also loves cats. like, a lot. so if you're not the biggest reader it's time to be the biggest petter

asmodeus is touchy, but he never crosses any boundaries once they're clear to him. if you don't like physical touch, make it clear to him

the first being you should go to if you want to have any sort of physical relationship with someone there. it could be awkward to just... ask, but he's not held back by any prejudice, and would love to help

pay attention to him when he speaks. he may seem like too much sometimes, but he will be even more if you don't look him in the eye and nod (at least).

tell him he's beautiful, cause he is. and also cause who would call aphrodite themselves ugly like??

beelzebub is chill, for the most part. just don't disrespect his family or eat his food.

he's the number one demon to go to when you're having issues and want to vent it out. doubles as someone you could hug after and get a pat on the head from, but only if he's comfortable.

always have a snack in your pocket for him, you'll never regret it (but don't make it a regular thing)

he will eat anything. that is both a warning and a piece of advice.

belphegor can have a sharp tongue, so if you're sensitive it's better to either be vocal about not liking certain things he says or not be around him all together

very knowledgeable about the human world, probably the most out of all the brothers. go to him if you feel homesick

also a scholar. no he won't do your homework for you. yes he will pass every class even though he's asleep in all of them. just don't pick him as your study buddy.

doesn't hide his feelings well – you can tell what he's thinking about just by looking at him

enjoy your stay, little sheep~

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #diavolo obey me #obey me barbatos #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Note

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” with the inexperienced reader if possible please

Oh babe, it's always possible! 🤍

So sorry for the delay with this chapter though, but I really wanted to make sure it was worth the wait 🌺 The plot for this one was mainly inspired by this request with a little bit of added spice from this one - and I just hope you all enjoy it 🤍

Though it did end up being a bit more intense than I planned, I also figured stirring up some real emotions would be alright? 😉🔥

So, this chapter's got quite some Dom!Willy vibes, pushing some boundaries with the reader - but please note it's supposed to be all in a sexual/romantic way, nothing crazy like Stockholm Syndrome 🙈 [soft!Willy at the end]

Warnings; smut 18+; use of sex toy (Magic Wand), unpleasurable overstimulation, orgasm denial, dominant play, use of safe word, penetrative sex (p in v), pinning, mild choking, cumshot; please, let me know if I missed anything;

Word count; 6.6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt IX I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️🔥

As Sunday arrived, the exhaustion from the whirlwind of activities over the past few days weighed heavily on both you and your boyfriend, William Nylander.

Despite the exhilarating moments and the playful bet that had led to some unforgettable bedroom actions, the weariness was undeniable. The All-Star event had been a thrilling deviation from the routine of the hockey season, but now, as the day unfolded lazily before you, there was a palpable sense of relief in simply being able to rest.

And as you slowly awakened from your slumber, you couldn’t help but admire William still deeply asleep beside you.

However, with the dogs eagerly nudging you, signalling their need for a walk, you made the decision to let him enjoy a well-deserved lie-in. Gently slipping out of bed, you tiptoed around the room, careful not to disturb his peaceful rest. Then after putting on some comfortable clothes, you met the crisp morning air, as you leashed up the dogs, relishing in the tranquillity of the early hours.

You savoured the morning of February, accompanied by Pablo and Banksy, relishing the quietude of the nearly deserted city streets, while the few early risers walking their dogs received your friendly greetings as you passed by.

And upon reaching one of your favourite bakeries, you decided to indulge yourself and William with some of their finest pastries. You believed both of you deserved this treat, since William's weekend had been filled with excitement and joy, while you had been a mere spectator on the side lines. Plus, considering the activities from last night, you likely had already burned enough calories.

Yet, as you admired the delectable treats displayed in the window, a sudden wave of nausea washed over you, as though you were in the presence of something unsettling and dangerous. Instinctively, you turned to investigate the cause of your discomfort, only to be startled by the sight of a familiar face you had never expected to encounter in this part of the city – your ex-boyfriend, Liam.

The air thickened between you, punctuated by a soft gasp escaping your lips as your gaze locked with his.

He appeared infuriatingly good-looking. His trademark smirk graced his pink lips, his hair flawlessly styled into a quiff, and his posture radiated confidence. Clad in his usual casual attire, topped with a denim jacket, which seemed out of place for the current weather, he flashed you a knowing smile before breaking the silence.

"Hey, y/n," Liam's voice was as low and rough as you remembered.

"Hey..." you responded tersely, guarding against revealing too much emotion. Your heart fluttered uncomfortably, torn between lingering hurt and the newfound confidence from your current relationship.

"You look good," he offered a compliment, one you didn't particularly need from him.

"Thanks... What are you doing here?" you asked, a hint of timidity in your voice.

Liam shrugged nonchalantly. "Just out for a stroll."

"Out for a stroll? You don't even live nearby..." you raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his sudden appearance in your life once again.

"And that means I can never come around this area?" he retorted with a sarcastic chuckle.

You found yourself hesitating, uncertain of how to navigate the interaction. "I suppose it doesn't," you replied, mustering a friendly smile before a brief silence settled between you. "Anyway, I, um... I better get going..."

"Wait... I, um," he interrupted suddenly. "It's nice to see you again."

"Yeah... um, thanks," you replied, feeling unsure how to reciprocate. However, as you stood in the middle of the pavement, your feet didn’t seem to move the way you wanted them to, as if his presence held you back.

"So, you got dogs?" Liam attempted to keep the conversation going, diverting his gaze toward the two doodles by your legs.

"Oh, well... they're not mine – I mean, they're mine to walk, but not... they don't belong to me..." you stumbled over your words, feeling unsettled by the effect he still seemed to have on you. Which annoyed you beyond anything. You were in a committed, happy relationship, yet he somehow retained a magnetic hold over you.

"Right... your new boyfriend – the hockey player..." Liam snorted, his disapproval evident. However, his opinion held no weight in comparison to your feelings for William. Liam's thoughts on your relationship were inconsequential to you, yet you couldn't deny the slight satisfaction of being complimented and knowing he still harboured feelings for you.

"Yeah, the hockey player..." you replied with a small confident smirk. "Who, by the way, doesn't appreciate your comments on my Instagram posts," you pointed out, earning another chuckle from Liam.

"Oh, yeah... damn, I'm sorry about that. I don't know what came over me," he said casually, as if it meant nothing to him.

"It's alright, just please don’t do it again," you said, feeling more relaxed.

"Why not?" Liam grinned. "I might not win you back like that, but it's worth a shot..."

"What? Liam, you shouldn't even be trying at all..." you exclaimed in slight disbelief.

"Because you have a boyfriend?" he chuckled once more. "Come on, y/n, some overly arrogant hockey player doesn’t deserve you... just because he's rich and famous doesn't make him a good boyfriend..."

"Like you were?" you retorted promptly. "All you did was flirt with other girls... even when I was around!" Your voice unintentionally rose a notch, and you felt a momentary flush of embarrassment at arguing with your ex in the middle of the Toronto streets.

"I know... I know, y/n... but I've learned from it now – I'm not the same," Liam defended, taking a small step closer, still wearing that confident smile that could once weaken you in an instant.

Feeling the need to create some distance, you took a small step back, not allowing Liam to get too close with his captivating gaze and charming grin.

"Well, it's too late, Liam – I'm in love with someone else, and you lost the breakup," you replied firmly, gripping the dogs' leashes tightly. And with determination, you swiftly turned on your heels and walked away at a brisk pace, not daring to look back.

And as you hurried back to the apartment, you almost held your breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over you when you finally reached the safety of the elevator. Leaning against the wall, you let out a deep sigh. "Shit..." you mumbled softly to yourself.

It surprised you how Liam could still stir up such emotions within you. You hadn't thought about him in months, believing you were completely over him ever since you walked away. Yet, it seemed the ghosts of the past had a way of haunting you.

And upon your return to the condo, Pablo and Banksy rushed eagerly to the kitchen, where they greeted William with boundless excitement.

"Hey boys," William's voice greeted warmly while you were taking a deep breath and shedding your coat and shoes before joining him. "Hey babe," he continued, his eyes lighting up as they met yours, standing in the kitchen, dressed in a loose t-shirt and shorts. "Did you go for a long walk?"

Apparently, time had slipped by faster than you had realised, the encounter with your ex causing you to lose track on your way back.

"Um, yeah... I couldn't really decide on what to get for breakfast," you replied with a soft chuckle, opting not to mention the brief encounter with Liam, knowing it would likely put William in a sour mood – something you wanted to avoid on a day like today.

"So, what did you buy?" William chuckled, noticing you didn't have any bags with you.

"Oh," you realised Liam's unexpected presence had prevented you from buying the treats you had intended to. Then thinking quickly, you came up with an alternative plan. "Um, I just thought we could make pancakes instead."

"Great idea, älskling," your boyfriend replied with a content smile, pulling you in for a kiss.

And as the morning developed into a relaxing day spent together on the sofa, watching movies, and taking naps with the dogs, the encounter with Liam slowly faded from your mind. Wrapped up in the comfort of William's presence, it seemed insignificant compared to the warmth and love you shared.

Monday unfolded like any other day in your new, not-so-ordinary lifestyle. After getting up, dressed, and bidding farewell to William as he headed out for morning skates, you embarked on your usual routine of walking the dogs before heading to work.

Throughout the day, amidst your tasks, you received loving texts from William, peppered with updates between workouts and media work, creating a comforting thread of connection despite the distance.

And upon returning home, you found yourself assisting him in selecting his attire for the evening's match.

"How about a black suit with a grey shirt?" you suggested, laying out the options on the bed.

"I thought you liked the green one best," he chuckled, emerging from the bathroom clad only in his boxers.

"Well, babe, I like you best naked, but I don't think it’d be appropriate for you to walk in like that," you teased, flashing him a flirtatious smile as he wrapped his muscular arms around you form behind.

"Mmm," he hummed, nuzzling into your hair. "I guess not... wouldn't want you to get all jealous again," his confident chuckle filled the room.

"Me, jealous? Willy, I think we both know you were the jealous one this weekend," you retorted playfully, sharing a light chuckle with him.

"Oh, like you weren't when I walked the carpet," William teased, his arms still wrapped around you.

Then turning in his embrace, you looked up at him, slipping your arms around his neck. "Hmm, maybe a little bit..." you admitted with a cheeky smile.

"Don't worry, älskling, I'm all yours," he reassured softly, leaning down to kiss your lips.

And as your mouths melded in a passionate embrace, you found yourself leaning into the moment, the words 'I'm yours' echoing in your mind.

However, as if out of nowhere, thoughts of Liam from yesterday suddenly intruded, and you had to do your best to push them away, focusing on the closeness of William. Which had you unintentionally pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, letting your tongue press between his lips, and taste him.

Then gently pulling back to catch his breath, William's heavy breathing hinted at his growing arousal.

"Easy, prinsessa, I don't think we have the time," he murmured, his hands tightening around you in response to your intense kiss.

"I know, I just... you just look so fucking good," you smiled up at him, ignoring any intrusive thoughts. "Especially now that your beard is coming back, so you don't look like a teenager anymore."

William couldn’t help but chuckle at your dislike for his shaved face. "Yeah, you like that, huh?"

"Mmm, makes you almost manly," you grinned.

"Only almost?" he raised an eyebrow, gently pushing you back until the back of your legs hit the bed. "Maybe I should remind you just how manly I can be?"

"Didn't think we had the time?" you smirked back.

"Oh, I always have time for you, baby," William replied with a smirk of his own, pushing you down onto the bed, where his lips fiercely crashed onto yours once more.

It was one of those moments where you remembered why William was always late to things – besides his usual tardiness. Sensually moving his lips from yours, he trailed kisses down your jawline and onto the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a mark with gentle nips and sucks.

"Willy," you moaned softly, almost surrendering to his touch.

"Mmm," he murmured against your skin, his hands exploring the contours of your body, teasingly massaging your breasts before trailing down to grasp your buttocks and give them a firm squeeze.

"You really don't have time for this..." you breathed out, torn between the desire to indulge in the pleasure of each other's bodies and the practicality of the impending schedule.

"But I'm already hard, babe," he chuckled, pulling back slightly to give you a cheeky smirk.

"Well, then I guess you'll have to think about something else before you walk in and have photos taken," you laughed softly, planting a gentle kiss on his lips before reclining on the bed, settling in to watch him get ready.

"You're a fucking tease, did you know that?" William grinned as he stood up, adjusting himself before grabbing his trousers.

"Oh, I know..." you replied with a smug look, your eyes following his every movement.

"Hmm, maybe I'll have to punish you later for teasing me like that?" William suggested, leaning over to kiss you again before buttoning up his shirt.

"I'm afraid you'll have to," you simply replied with a playful smirk.

It was another moment that reminded you of just how much you loved William Nylander. The way he could ignite passion with a single touch, yet also share heartfelt laughter and playful banter. It was undeniably the most wonderful relationship you had ever experienced.

And with a mischievous smile, you couldn't resist sending William a 'good luck' lingerie photo as he left for tonight's game. It was a playful gesture, a small reminder of your affection and support, before you would join him later after the game for some post-match celebration.

However, as the game unfolded, it became clear that it wouldn't be the greatest outcome for the Leafs. Despite their best efforts, the Islanders managed to secure a narrow victory with a final score of 3-2 by none other than Pierre Engvall, leaving a sense of disappointment hanging heavy in the locker room.

And as the players regrouped, their heads hung low processing the loss. While they knew they had fought hard, the bitterness of defeat still lingered.

Meanwhile, outside the locker room, the partners and friends of the team waited patiently, discussing how to support their significant others through this tough moment.

You knew William wouldn't be in the best mood, but you also recognised that you were fortunate to have a partner who could brush off losses and bounce back rather easily. Maria Samsonov, on the other hand, had a different experience. Sammy had a tendency to always blame himself when the team lost—a burden that he had carried for some time. Yet, you also understood that this was typical for goaltenders, and with the support and encouragement from the team, he would be alright in due time.

So, as the hallways gradually emptied out, you then found yourself engaged in light chatter with some of the players and their significant others with William by your side. It was heartening to hear the boys laughing despite the loss, and it seemed they were already focusing on the next game.

With William's arm securely around your waist, you shared a moment of camaraderie and warmth among friends. Everything felt just right, and you savoured the sense of contentment that washed over you.

However, amidst the happy laughter and conversation, you suddenly felt a pair of eyes boring into you from a distance, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. And when Stephanie's uneasy glance hinted that something was amiss, it prompted you to turn and confront whatever was causing the discomfort.

Your stomach churned as you again laid eyes on the familiar face standing in the hallway of the Toronto Maple Leafs, a place he certainly didn't belong.

"Liam," you breathed out, instinctively taking a step away from your group of friends and out of William’s embrace. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Your voice was low but firm, your eyes wide with shock and disbelief, as you crossed your arms, posing in front of him.

Standing there with his trademark confident grin and hands in his pockets, Liam simply chuckled. "Why do you always have to dictate where I can and cannot be?"

His voice grated on your nerves, and you couldn't hide the discomfort his presence evoked in you.

"Because this is not a place you should be... you have no business here..." you attempted to explain, but Liam only took a step forward, maintaining his smug expression.

"Well, I have every right to be a Leafs fan, right?" he chuckled deeply. "And as a fan, I can buy a ticket, which gives me access to the arena."

It was a feeble justification, you thought, but you knew he technically had a point.

"That doesn't explain why you're here, by the players' locker room," you added, trying to assert your boundaries.

But Liam just simply continued to hold his gaze on you, as if it was a challenge. Yet you remained composed, meeting his stare without flinching.

"I had to see you again..." he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions – anger, frustration, and fear. One thing was encountering him in public on the street, but having him show up here, in your territory, was another matter entirely.

However, as the tension between you was palpable, it again left you frozen and almost unable to react.

"But I don't want to see you..." you finally managed to speak; your voice barely audible as you let out a sigh. You didn't want to waste any more energy being angry with Liam. He didn't deserve the emotional turmoil he caused you.

And just as Liam was about to respond, William approached, his eyes fixed firmly on the man before you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close – a clear message asserting his dominance and showing Liam that you were no longer available to him.

"Are you alright, babe?" William's voice cut through the tension, his gaze fixed on Liam, though the question was directed at you.

Finally breaking away from Liam's stare, you subtly shifted in William's arm, feeling a sense of relief and security with him by your side.

"Yeah, I'm alright.”

Despite your reassurance, the atmosphere in the hallway remained thick with tension as more players gathered behind you, their presence adding to the pressure mounting on your ex-boyfriend.

Yet Liam persisted in speaking to you, his words dripping with a mix of bitterness and arrogance. "It's good to see that you're happy, y/n/n... although your friends seem more like protective bulldogs."

"Well, maybe she wouldn't need them if you weren't here," William retorted, his grip around your waist tightening as he channelled his irritation.

Liam's untimely appearance had chosen the worst possible moment after a loss against the Islanders, and you could feel William's lingering disappointment from the game only fuelling his temper.

"Or maybe I could just have a nice talk with my ex-girlfriend without you here," Liam challenged William, his tone laced with defiance. It was clear that this confrontation was slowly escalating, and you feared it wouldn't end well, especially when Liam continued with his provocation, his eyes fixed in you. "Guess I shouldn't have let you go so easily yesterday; it was so much easier to talk to you alone.”

The tension in the air thickened more if even possible, and you braced yourself for what was to come, knowing that this encounter was far from over.

“You talked yesterday?” William inquired, turning briefly to you with frowned eyes, earning a small nod from you.

“Yes, so don’t worry, she’s much capable of talking without you around,” Liam replied, a way too comfortable smirk curving on his lips.

However, as William's question still hung in the air, a wave of unease washed over you. And Liam's smug response only intensified the tension, which made you sure you had to act before things escalated further.

But before you could intervene, William's temper erupted. "How about you just stay the hell away from her!" he sudden shouted, his frustration boiling over, and unable to contain his emotions.

"I think she can speak for herself!" Liam shot back; his tone defiant as he maintained his arrogant smirk. "She doesn't need you to protect her."

And that had William's anger reaching its breaking point, causing him to abruptly remove his arm from around you, shoving Liam in the chest. "As long as you're here, she does!" he retorted, his voice laced with fury.

Then Liam retaliated, pushing back, but before the situation could escalate further, the other players swiftly intervened. Tavares restrained Liam while Mitch and Auston held William back, preventing what could have devolved into a physical altercation.

"It's time for you to leave now," the captain spoke firmly to Liam, who begrudgingly adjusted his jacket after Tavares released him.

"Yeah, maybe I should just leave her with you - I guess a dumb hockey player does deserve a dumb girl," he spat out, his words clearly crossing a line.

But it wasn't William who struck out first. With a swift movement, Auston swung his fist, landing a punch directly on Liam's nose. The impact sent Liam staggering back, clutching his injured nose as he stumbled to his feet and swiftly exited the hallway of the Scotiabank Arena.

The scene happened so quick, almost unfolding in a blur, but there was no denying the sense of satisfaction that washed over you as Liam retreated, leaving behind a palpable feeling of relief and closure.

“Shit…” you mumbled softly, a tear creeping into the corner of your eye as embarrassment suddenly washed over you. “I’m so sorry, guys,” you apologised, turning to face the others.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Auston spoke firmly, shaking his hand a little as he flashed you a grin. “You’re one of us, remember? No one should talk to you like that.”

“Yeah, what a jerk,” Stephanie added, prompting everyone to share light laughter as they discussed Liam's audacity.

And as they all then began to bid their farewells, you quickly turned to Auston. “Thank you, Aus. By the way, I hope you didn’t hurt your hand too much,” you said, flashing him a concerned smile.

“Not at all. It was actually fun to punch someone outside the ice,” he offered a light chuckle. “Besides, I’d do it anytime for you.” And with a cheeky grin, he left the hallway alongside Mitch and Stephanie.

However, William's demeanour was far more serious than the rest of the group. Still standing with his arm firmly around you, he glanced at you with a solemn expression.

Yet, when he didn’t say anything, you decided to break the tense silence. “I’m sorry, Willy…”

But William simply shook his head and let go of his arm around you before speaking. “Let’s just go home.”

His voice sounded firm and rough with the few words he spoke. And you couldn’t deny that it was a piercing feeling, knowing he was both fussing over you and angry at Liam for showing up.

Needless to say, the ride home was completely silent, not a word exchanged as William’s intense glare focused on the road ahead. Nor was there any sound between you as you entered the condo, despite the greetings you both offered the dogs.

Then upon arriving in the kitchen, you tried to follow William, yet it seemed he was avoiding your attempts to talk to him.

“Willy, I’m sorry…” you tried again, raising your voice slightly, but you were met with nothing but a piercing stare as he stood hunched over the kitchen island.

“Sorry about what? That you didn’t tell me about talking to your ex… or that you knew he might show up in your life again…” His voice was low, dark, and rough, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

To your small relief, William wasn’t shouting, but his tone was menacing, which in a way felt worse.

“All of it…” you admitted timidly. “But I didn’t know he’d show up like that…” you tried to defend.

“That doesn’t matter, y/n,” William spoke dominantly, straightening up and coming a little closer to you. “You could’ve told me about yesterday. And you chose not to.”

You took a small step back, slightly surprised by his forceful behaviour, and let out a small gasp as your eyes remained fixated on him.

“I chose not to tell you because I didn’t think it’d matter, Willy,” you managed to explain with a more confident tone. “He doesn’t matter. Only you do. So, I don’t care if he shows up again. He's nothing compared to you.”

There was a brief moment of silence hanging between you as William again took a step closer, invading your personal space.

“That’s right.”

And it was as though some cosmic force propelled William towards you, causing his lips to collide with yours. The intensity of his passion was palpable as he cupped your face with his hands, drawing you nearer to him.

Your breath was swiftly taken away as you were swept into the fervent moment, caught somewhat off guard, yet your body instinctively yielded to his embrace.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pressed your chests together, both fully immersed in the heat of the moment. William’s hands moved to the back of your head, holding onto you with fervour as his tongue eagerly explored your mouth, leaving no doubt about his hunger for you.

You allowed your fingers to trail from his neck to firmly grasp onto his hoodie, pulling him even closer as you mirrored the depth of your longing for his touch.

Yet for William, this went beyond merely asserting his dominance in passionate sex. He wanted to ensure you understood the depth of his feelings for you, how you had found your way into his heart, and how he couldn't bear the thought of losing you to someone else. You belonged to him, and he needed you to acknowledge that.

Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, both of you released deep breaths, consumed by the intensity and longing for each other.

"You're so fucking sexy," William whispered before capturing your lips again, until you gently pushed him away to catch your breath.

"And you're so fucking hot when you're mad!"

It felt like a competition as you eagerly pressed your faces together, sharing the raw desire that only grew with each passing second. Your hands drew each other closer, ensuring there was no space left between you, keeping yourselves intertwined.

Then, with his strength, William let his hands move to your buttocks, lifting you into his arms and almost hurrying to the bedroom, where he tossed you onto the bed.

"So, you think I'm hot when I'm mad?" he chuckled huskily, his eyes smouldering with desire as he pulled his hoodie over his head and discarded it, revealing his bare chest. "Let me show you just how mad I am then."

You had to bite your lip as you gazed at him before you. Never before had you been so aroused by his intense gaze and the palpable tension emanating from him. It was much like the day he came home after you'd been out with Emily, but tonight he wasn't gentle and dominant. He was simply rough and forceful.

As he knelt on the bed beside you, his hands swiftly found your shirt and trousers, almost tearing them off as he wasted no time in undressing you. Leaving you in your underwear, he then made his way to the nightstand where he retrieved the Magic Wand, one of your favourite toys.

"You know the rules; hands above your head – if you move them, you don’t get to come," William commanded, and you immediately complied.

Returning to the mattress, he knelt between your legs once more, urging them to spread wide as he used his large frame to keep them apart. Switching on the vibrator to what sounded like a rather high setting, he directed it straight to your fabric-covered core.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed in pleasure as the intense vibrations made forceful contact with your clit, your hands gripping tightly onto the pillows behind your head as your eyes shut tight. "Shit, Willy!" you cried loudly.

But then he withdrew the wand, leaving you breathless and desperately gasping for air from his sudden action. You imagined his smug expression, but as you gently opened your eyes, you were met only with a dominant, stern look.

"Is this what you want?" he asked rhetorically, but before you could even think of an answer, he forcefully pressed the vibrator back onto your clit, causing you to squirm and cry out as you instinctively arched your back.

It was almost verging on painful. The high intensity caused your body to shake and tremble, a mixture of pleasure that wasn’t allowed to gradually build. Your heels aggressively dug into the mattress beneath you as you once again yearned for air that was stolen from your lungs amidst the extreme overstimulation.

And then, once more, William withdrew the wand. Panting as he surveyed the effect, he was having on you, small beads of sweat forming on your skin as you cried out in a blend of pleasure and pain.

"Stop... please," you pleaded in a whisper, but William didn’t seem to hear you.

"You want to make me jealous, is that it?" he spat, once again bringing the device in his hand into contact with your core, causing you to scream out. But this time, you were unable to endure it any longer.

With a loud cry, you forced yourself to raise your voice and put an end to it. "Blue. Willy, blue!"

And the safe word seemed to work, prompting William to withdraw the device.

Breaths were shared heavily between you, your eyes wet as they met his dark glare in the dimmed lights of the bedroom. You took a moment to regain control of the tears trailing down from the corner of your eyes, staring intensely at William.

"Willy," you softly breathed out, unable to form any coherent sentences as you processed what had just happened.

His chest rose and fell forcefully, his hand still clutching the vibrator before he flung it across the room. You could feel his simmering anger beneath the surface, yet there were hints of concern in his eyes as he kept his gaze locked onto you.

Swiftly, he then rose from his position, never breaking eye contact as he undressed completely, almost as if awaiting your objection.

However, you remained silent. Instead, you focused on regaining your breath, allowing your body to gradually relax as the charged atmosphere in the room brimmed with intense desires and raw lust.

It felt almost illicit. William's rough movements as he returned to the bed, discarding the delicate piece of fabric covering your heat, and leaned over your body, gripping each of your wrists and pinning them down on either side of your head.

No words were exchanged, only the tension lingering between you both as you still felt the remnants of frustration and irritation from earlier.

You both allowed the silence to envelop the room as William guided the tip of his throbbing cock to your entrance, eager to feel your warmth.

Softly, you parted your lips, releasing a small breath as you silently gave him your consent to proceed. And then, with one determined thrust, William drove his member into your core, penetrating you deeply with force.

You couldn't help but let out a soft cry again in response to his movements, though this time it was a pure expression of pleasure.

His length stimulated the inside of your walls as he withdrew and thrust back in, establishing a slow yet firm rhythm that resulted in loud slaps of skin colliding echoing through the room.

William's moans escaped his lips uncontrollably with each intense thrust, emitting deep, dark, husky grunts as he channelled his anger through his motions.

Your core eagerly welcomed every thrust he delivered, despite their lack of softness and romance. Yet, with each stroke, as his length massaged your sensitive muscles, a pleasurable sensation surged within you, gradually building towards an orgasm.

"Yes, Willy… it feels so good," you cried out softly, prompting William to increase his pace.

And as the intensity heightened, his moans grew louder, his grip around your wrists tightening as he too sensed his climax approaching. However, he held back, still determined to bring you the pleasure you deserved.

Then, sensing your impending orgasm as the clenching around his cock signalled its arrival, he began to pound faster, releasing one of your wrists as his hand found your throat instead, holding it firmly.

Your free hand instinctively reached out to grab onto his, your voice stolen from you as William's thrusts brought you closer to the peak. It was an intense sensation; the desire to release yourself held back by his force.

Yet with a whimper, you managed to gasp, indicating your impending climax. “Willy… I’m… come..”

"Yes, baby, come for me," William moaned between deep breaths. And as if his words were a direct order, you shut your eyes tightly once more and finally allowed yourself to reach the peak of pleasure. You felt the deep rush of intensity wash over you, your mind going hazy, and your legs trembling beneath his large figure as you reached the high. "Oh fuck…" he groaned deeply, the tightening around him bringing him closer to his climax as well.

And with a loud moan, William let go of his grip, pulled out, and leaned back onto his knees before taking a firm hold of his needy member, jerking himself to ejaculate onto your core. His cum spilling onto your lower stomach, marking you as his.

You almost felt filthy as he sprayed himself onto you, yet as you slowly came down from your estate state, your eyes once again met his, sharing a moment of heated intimacy. The need and craving for each other still lingering in the air.

It took a few minutes for both of you to slowly return to reality, the euphoria of your orgasm gradually fading as you regained control of your breathing.

Then, without a word, William slowly rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

You found yourself frozen in position, your mind still racing as it processed the events of the day. Attempting to relax, you felt your body slowly regaining its sensations, your legs ceasing their trembling as you sank into the mattress. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder what William might be doing, as your thoughts kept drifting. He seemed to be taking his time, you thought, yet you also found yourself simply enjoying the tranquillity filling the air after the intense sex.

However, just as you were about to close your eyes and succumb to the weariness overtaking you, William returned to the bedroom, positioning himself beside the bed before lifting you up in a bridal-style hold. And gently, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bathroom.

Upon entering, you noticed how he had dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around the bathtub, which was being filled with running water. And as he softly placed you back onto the ground, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you as William, still in complete silence, guided you into the water.

As you settled in, allowing yourself to be embraced by the warmth, he joined you, positioning himself behind you and gently encouraging you to lean back and relax against him.

It was as if all tension had dissipated, replaced by a sense of softness as William tenderly caressed your body, washing away the remnants of the earlier intimacy. Yet suddenly, he broke the silence.

"Are you okay, älskling?" he inquired softly, gently placing a tender kiss on the back of your neck. "I'm sorry if I hurt you..."

You could sense the genuine concern in his voice, a slight tremble underlying his words, which brought a soft rush of relief over you. And carefully turning in your position to avoid spilling too much water from the tub, you faced William, smoothly placing your legs on top of his.

His expression had softened, a stark contrast to how he had looked during your intimate session, and gently, you cupped his face with your hands, your palms softly caressing his beard, urging him to look directly at you.

"Never do that again, Willy." Your voice was low and soft, yet undeniably filled with seriousness, and he understood immediately, nodding in confirmation. "I know you were mad..." you continued, your tone gentle. "But don't you ever use sex to punish me like that... it wasn't fair."

And William let out a deep sigh as he understood the distress, he had put you under, not in the pleasurable way sex was supposed to be between you.

"I'm so sorry, babe..." he apologised again, his blue eyes nearly sparkling as they slowly welled up. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that..."

It was a heartfelt moment of deeply shared connection between you, a connection only the two of you understood as you felt the hurt, he was experiencing from his actions.

"It's okay, Willy... I just..." you let out a deep sigh. "I just don't want you to feel this way... being so angry because of..." You trailed off, not wanting to dwell on him any longer.

"Your ex-boyfriend," William finished your sentence with a stern tone, prompting you to nod.

"Yes, because he's not worth it, and you know it," you explained as your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, the other finding his shoulder to trace soft circles on his skin.

"I know, but he still got to me today, and I'm so pissed that I let him," William let out another sigh.

Yet, you couldn't help but feel a small curve on your lips forming as you reminded yourself of the joy you had felt when Liam had mentioned how happy you looked next to William.

"Hey, the only reason he tried to push your buttons was because he was jealous of how happy you're making me," you spoke, flashing him a sweet smile as you reassured your beloved boyfriend of how much he meant to you.

And fortunately, it seemed to work. You felt William's tense muscles slowly relax as he let out a deep breath, offering you a timid smile.

"It really bothers him, doesn’t it?" he finally let out a light chuckle. "That you're happy without him…"

"Yeah, and honestly, I think what really pisses him off is that I'm not just happy without him – but I'm also happy with someone else," you said, feeling a sense of ease as you and William exchanged light laughter, your fingers moving from his hair to delicately toy with the chain around his neck.

"And I'm really happy with you, y/n… And I don't want to apologise for being jealous because it just shows how much you mean to me… that I want you more than words can describe," William spoke, his voice almost cracking as he let out emotions, he didn't often express. "And in a way, I think... I think that I'm scared of the fact that I love you so much that you could break my heart at any point… and I can't do anything about it."

You couldn't help but admire how sweet he was. The always strong and calm hockey star, William Nylander, was expressing his deep feelings for you, admitting his true concerns.

"Hey... I love you too, Willy, don't ever doubt that" you flashed him a content smile. "And you could just as easily break my heart, believe me," you added with a soft chuckle, which he returned. "So, don't worry... we're both just two idiots in love."

And William knew you were right, which helped him slowly forget about the frustrations he held about your ex.

“I know… I just wished I’d been the one to throw the punch instead of Tony…” William chuckled lightly, earning a light laugh from you as well.

“Hmm, don’t worry babe, I think prefer you acting out in bed instead,” you offered him a cheeky wink. “Besides, in case Liam would actually have managed to hit back, I’d rather have him punch Auston than your pretty face.”

Then, with a sweet place you placed a gentle kiss onto William’s lips, and you shared a soft moment where you both knew you could let all the concerns wash away. And as you finished washing up, you returned to the bedsheets where tiredness quickly took over, and you fell into a deep sleep in each other's embrace.

#18+#Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

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foli-vora · 5 months

Text

the sun will shine again

joel miller x f!reader

A/N: just a little self indulgent something I wrote for comfort when I needed it, but maybe it can be a little reassuring hug for someone here as well? If you're struggling, please reach out to your local helplines, friends, family, doctors, teachers, coworkers - you're worthy of your existence on this planet, and you're not alone ❤️

Word count: 2k

Warnings: heavy themes. Depression, thoughts of suicide and intent, mentions of a weapon (gun), Joel struggles with feelings but he gets the message across, Ellie is Ellie with a little needed comic relief, hurt & much needed comfort

You don't want it anymore. Any of it. You just want peace. You want to be able to wake without the lingering presence of something heavy weighing down on your heart, your soul. You want to be able to smile, and feel it curl on your lips knowing it's nothing but true, and it's not there hiding the ugly thoughts and feelings stirring in your mind. You just want to be happy.

Is that even possible? Does happiness even exist anymore? The world had been torn apart long ago - there is very little to smile for now. Maybe it wasn't worth the effort. Maybe this is all there is.

No.

No, this isn't all of it.

You're sure you feel happiness, even if it doesn't manage to make it across your features most of the time. You feel the tender warmth of it in your chest, the blissful ease of the never ending pressure threatening to crush you under its weight.

It happens now, despite the horrific events that seem to follow your footsteps. Ellie's a sweet thing. She hides it behind her stubbornness and sarcasm, but you spy a slight comfort building within her as time rolls on—a peace.

Joel mirrors it, and he fights it - God does he fight it. Of course you know why he keeps her at arms length, why he desperately fights to keep that void present, but lately, it's wavered. He smiles, laughs even. It's beautiful to witness. He deserves it all and so much more.

You on the other hand? The shadows have seemingly only grown outside of the QZ despite being free, creeping along and filling every vacant space in your mind. It's so damn heavy. Something's there, a presence that seems to know exactly when to strike with its poisonous words, and it's not long until a part of you starts to believe them.

You don't belong here. You don't deserve them. You don't deserve this. You should've died long ago. Why are you still here? They would be better off without you.

It's those thoughts that have you here now, staring numbly at the sun beginning to shine over the horizon with a weight in your hands. There's a harsh chill in the air that bites at your skin through your thick, tattered long sleeve, but you don't care. You won't be here when the snow eventually hits.

You had left your jacket draped over a sleeping Ellie, her cheeks and nose tinged pink from the low temperature. It wouldn't go to waste - she'll get a lot of use out of it. Your pack you'd left in its spot beside Joel's - he'll take whatever they need before they move off. You have nothing else of worth.

They'll be better off. You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere. Everyone will be better off.

Your gaze drops to your hands where they cradle the handgun, the steel barrel now warm from your touch. You only have one bullet - you left the rest behind. You wouldn't need them, anyway. Joel'll get a use out of them. They'll both be safe.

Safer without you. Better without you.

So why can’t you do it? Why can’t you just get it over with? Why are you hesitating?

The last few months roll through your mind. Blurs of memories, of you and Joel, of you and Ellie, each one rolling through your mind and bringing that sweetly craved warmth back to your chest. You know why you’re hesitating.

It’s a battle between love and darkness, and you hate that the darkness is winning. You’re weak.

They deserve more than you.

“Watching the sunrise?"

The unexpected but familiar gravel has you jumping about a mile high out of your skin. Your head whips to where Joel is approaching quietly from behind, and you discreetly tuck the gun into the waistband of your jeans as you nod, forcing a strained curl of your lips.

"It's a nice view," he continues quietly, voice still roughened from the few hours of sleep he managed to get. "I wasn't expectin' you to be gone so long."

He had been resting when you left the little campsite, eyes closed and merely grunting in reply when you mentioned needing a bit of privacy. How long had it been since you left? How long had you been dragging your feet in carrying this shit out?

"I got distracted," you explain weakly, shifting slightly over on the unforgiving boulder you sit on so he can rest on it beside you, "sorry."

He notices your clear lack of jacket.

"You cold?"

"No," you lie.

He's watching you, studying you. You can feel it. You keep your eye on the horizon, taking in the pastel mix of blues and oranges stretching across the sky as the sun starts to rise further above the landscape in an effort to escape his scrutiny.

"You needin' these?"

Glancing towards him, you watch as he sticks his hand down the front pocket of his jeans before holding it out to you, noting the bullets rolling around his palm. Your bullets. There's something hanging in his gaze as it remains heavily fixed on you. Maybe a slight edge of suspicion? Challenge?

You don't manage to hold it long enough to find out.

"Uh, not that I know of. I think I'm good."

He makes a low noise of thought, "Alright. Well, why don't you let me check. Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"Joel—"

"Come on."

The cold's long seeped into your bones now. You weren't meant to take this long. Another thing you can't do right. Moving takes a small bit of effort, your fingers now numb as they struggle to keep a firm grip on the weapon and pass it over.

Joel swiftly pops open the cylinder once he has the gun in hand, taking a long, quiet moment to examine the one single bullet residing in there. His thumb briefly brushes over the top surface of it, before readying the other bullets in between the grasp of his fingers.

"Not gettin' far with only one," he comments dryly, nimbly filling the cylinder and then flicking it shut with a noticeable click.

He doesn't give it back to you.

Instead, he reaches behind his back and tucks the gun down the waistband of his jeans beside his own, before fixing his jacket above them. He sighs, a deep heave of breath that blows out from his lips with a wispy cloud that carries away with the breeze as he seems to lose himself in thought.

You say nothing. There's nothing for you to say.

"Don't you ever," he starts thickly, voice cutting suddenly through the quiet, "think about doin' that again, you hear me?"

"Do what?"

You feign ignorance.

Whether it's because you don't want to acknowledge your earlier thoughts, or Joel to know about any of it, you don't know. It's silly—he would've found you eventually anyway. Maybe you're just a coward and don't want to face the reality of what he would think of you.

"Don't play with me—not about this.”

An apology sits on your tongue, but it doesn't make it past your lips. You should've known better than to play him as the fool. Joel's anything but stupid. He probably saw through you the instant he laid eyes on you sitting in the cold morning light without a jacket.

“I don’t say it, and maybe I should start, but I can’t lose you,” he rasps, deep brown eyes falling away from your face to follow the soft swirls of the clouds, “I can’t. And I know that’s selfish of me to say, I know it’s not what I should say when you’re feelin’ like this, but—Jesus. Ellie wants you here, needs you here. I need you here, and I know you’re carryin’ a lot in that head of yours but—I just... I’m here for you, alright?”

“Joel—”

“Quiet.”

Your mouth snaps shut immediately.

“I know it’s a lot, and I know it hurts—believe me honey, I know it fuckin’ hurts, and you’re tired and the other side just seems so damn good… but it’s not. It’s not. You… you can’t do that. God, you just can’t.”

The wind chills the hot tears that spill down your cheeks until they feel like ice. He looks at you then, as if sensing the heart ache making wet paths along your skin.

You’re weak.

His hands are hot as they cradle your face carefully, roughened calloused palms covering your cheeks and soothing away the agony filled droplets with a quick brush of his thumbs.

You can’t help but turn into the touch, your own hands coming to wind around his wrists in an effort to keep him close. He’s so warm. You let out the lungful of oxygen you’d been holding onto in your worry, watching the fog of it hang between your faces before fading away.

“I don’t know what to do, Joel,” you admit in a choked whisper, eyes dropping from something close to shame, “My head… I-I don’t know how to fix this—”

His hands press tighter against your cheeks as he angles and holds your face until your eyes are flicking up to meet his. Sincerity fills them, mixing with the ever present concern he hides behind those high almost impenetrable walls. It’s hard to focus on anything but him.

“It’s gonna take time, and it’s gonna be damn hard, but I want you to put it on me, understand? Put it all on me. I’ll carry what you’re strugglin’ with, alright? Hell, I’ll carry you. For as long as I need to. For the rest of my—fuck. Just—just let me help you. Please.”

He wants to do that? For you?

“What if it’s too much?”

“Then we’ll handle it together, like we’ve handled shit hundreds of times before.”

A few more moments of searching his eyes and you’re breathing a quiet okay. The heaviness still rests unforgivingly on your mind, but maybe you won’t struggle so much if someone was there to help you carry the load. Maybe, with time, it would get lighter.

That’s what you could fight for—the days where it won’t hold you down, and threaten to break you completely. The days where, maybe, it won’t be there anymore. Is that even a possibility? It doesn’t matter, you think you’re willing to find out.

His own eyes flicker between yours when your voice reaches his ears, before he gives a slight, barley there nod. His throat bobs with a swallow and then he’s resting his forehead against yours in apparent relief, lashes brushing his cheeks as his eyes flutter closed.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t ever need to be.”

“I fucking knew you guys were a thing.”

Ellie’s voice suddenly picks up from the tree line, her heavy feet trudging through the dense forest floor with the crunch of leaves and the snap of branches. Joel’s hands drop as he pulls away with a slight frown, levelling it on the girl making her way over, but it doesn’t seem to deter her in the slightest.

Despite missing the physical reassurance from Joel, you welcome the change Ellie unknowingly brings to the heavy atmosphere. You even manage a small smile, and it doesn’t feel strange as it stretches along your lips. There it is again—that lovely warmth from within you.

This is it. This is what you want, what you have. It’s just buried most of the time, but—but it’s definitely there. You weren’t imagining it. It’s there.

You’ll fight for it. You’ll fight for her, for Joel. You’ll fight for your peace.

“You didn’t need to hide it for so long—I’m not fucking stupid. I appreciate the jacket, by the way, but I don’t need you turning into an ice block on me,” she says, dumping your warm jacket over your shoulders before moving to your side and looking out towards the sunrise. “Holy shit, look at that view.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction

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ventique18 · 2 months

Text

Please refrain from grabbing my art and redistributing them in your accounts, because it appears as if you made them. Reblogs are here for a reason: because they link back to the artist and give them the credit they deserve. Please support us by reblogging our art or sharing by directly giving access to the original posts we make!

Some other personal thoughts:

I'm only uploading my stuff on Tumblr and Reddit because twst is very personal for me. I don't want the stuff I make for this particular fandom to be taken out of context and given new meanings, like what happens when people see them on mainstream platforms like Twitter. It's happened to me on Genshin and other otome games I've made stuff for; with my art being used for music videos on TikTok, my casual intimacy sketches used for horny thirst traps instead of the comfortable romance they're meant to be, dialogues in heartfelt comics are even changed for some reason, and other uses I've never consented to. I've learned to ignore these and accepted them as beyond my control at this point. But for twst, I'd have wanted to be as quiet as possible as it's a piece of my personal life that's most precious to me at the moment.

Since the start of twst en, Tumblr has become a sort of the peaceful home I turn to after a hectic day. Here I can scream about my interests as loudly as I can, without people looking at me weird for it and telling me to act like the proper lady I should be. This place is where my selfish heart is; a place where my problems are nonexistent, where I don't constantly have to divide myself between people who need me; where I don't have to be the reliable sister, the dutiful daughter, the caring lover, the diligent student, or the obedient worker. I'm just me.

But it looks like I can't keep it idealistically "private" within a small circle of like-minded people anymore. Recently there's been multiple cases of people redistributing my works here and there because "they found it on pinterest", it's at the top of google search, or some such. I'm actually not angry because as I've said, it's out of my control, but it's looking like I need to stretch myself again and start posting in other platforms just to maintain a direct link between myself and my works. I don't want others to receive praise for my hard work. I want to have the ability to contest an artwork's message when it's being manipulated to suit other's interests.

This is just a small rant, but it's really very personal to me. My little notes about Malleus, my heartful interest, are important to me. Thank you so much for listening and I hope you continue supporting me by helping me keep a link to my original posts by, like I've said, reblogging. 🫂

#ventique ponders #twisted wonderland

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

913 notes · View notes

codfanficedits · 5 months

Text

Final Goodbye - Full version.

Pairing: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick & Reader

Summary: You are Death, guiding the men to the afterlife.

Wordcount: 12,467 | Rating: M (18+ only!)

Warnings: MW3 SPOILERS - Suicide - Selfharm and grieving.

A/N: Different colours to identify dialogue better. Gave John a little backstory.

Being the reaper was a work of art on its own. It was your duty to guide the souls whose time was up to the afterlife, and you had made it your personal mission to make sure that as little as possible souls would cross to the afterlife scared. After all, death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints.

As a result you had to divide yourself, as an immortal being that was an easy thing to do. Being everywhere at once, yet being nowhere at the same time.

You had the taskforce in your sight for a while now. Four elite soldiers going on missions, you almost had your work cut out for you. But they were good, good enough to keep you lurking in the shadows, for now.

Some of them had come close, close enough to dance the dance of death with you, only to be granted a little more time. John “Soap” MacTavish being one of them. There had been plenty of moments where you had held his hands already, almost revealing your true form before he got pulled away from your grasp.

Life enjoyed playing tricks with you, with death. But it was what humans needed, a little reminder of their mortality so they could enjoy their life again.

And so here you were. You had been following John for a little while now, sensing that his time would be up again. And it was special so to say to follow him around, for every life he took, you would see a version of yourself pop up, taking the life he had claimed to the afterlife, only for that version of yourself to fade again, the very fragments of your soul being scattered around the world in an attempt to make the experience of death a more pleasant one than the experience of being alive. Not that you succeeded all the time. Sometimes you had to guide lives who deserved to live for another fifty years, sometimes the souls were terrified, and sometimes they were waiting for you, as old friends finally meeting up again. It could be a cruel world, but you weren’t there to judge. Humans had free will, and you could not interfere with it.

John’s death happened quick. Too quick for your liking. You preferred it when it took a little time. Not that you liked the suffering of the souls, no, of course not. But it was the best for all whenever a soul was at peace with their death. And John certainly was not.

“What the fuck?” He scolded. “Why the fuck can’t I grab my fucking weapon?”

“What kind of bullshit is this? Cap’n are you seeing thi-“ His sentence cutting short.

Oh you had seen this film before, and you never liked the ending. The look of despair when they see their body lying on the ground.

“No. No! Nonononono.” There it was.

Time seems to be standing still when reality seeps into his brain, his hand reaching out to his limp body on the ground, but he goes straight through it. A look of confusion, pain, anger, sadness when he can see his teammates continue the mission he couldn’t finish. He sees them disarm the bomb, he sees his best friend, Simon, kneel by his body, frantically looking for a pulse.

“I’m here!” John yells, waving his arms in front of Simon’s face, but it is no use, John no longer belongs to the earth, nor does he belong to the afterlife yet. He is in your realm, your limbo and you are the only one who can grand him the freedom of moving on.

“Simon! I am here!” He yells again, but he is meet with the empty eyes of his best friend, and a soft. “No pulse.”

“Hello.”

Your voice snaps him out of it. “Who the fuck are you?”

But it should be clear, the big, dark, black cloak hiding you, hiding your face. “I am Death.”

“I have died?”

“Afraid so.”

“That is a whole lot of bullshit. Can’t you turn it back or something?”

“No.”

You give him the time to process what had happened, what is happening, and what is about to happen.

“So, what now?” He asks, a hand running through his mohawk, his eyes shifting back to his dead body again.

“That depends.” You answer. “Are you ready to move on yet?” Normally you wouldn’t give the souls a choice, no normally you would guide them to the afterlife, maybe have a little small talk, but there was something inside of you telling you this death would stir up some things. So you decided to give him the choice.

“No.” His answer is quick, and you can tell he didn’t think about it.

“Why not?”

“There are so many thing that I still need to do.”

“You know you can’t do them now, right? You are death, you no longer possess your own body, everything you say, or do, is not visible in the human world.” Sometimes you have to be blunt in order to get your point across.

“Oh.”

“So I ask you again. Are you ready to move on?”

“No.”

“Give me a reason.”

John’s gaze shifts to the three men standing over his body, the pain in their eyes is visible and it is undeniable that they had a strong bond, something more than just coworkers. And their pain is shared, as you can see the same pain in his eyes.

“I need to know if they will be okay.”

“You can’t change anything if they won’t be okay.”

“I know, but I know they will be okay, I just need to see it with my own eyes.”

“Very well.” You answer. “You get to decide when you are ready.”

He looks up when he sees other versions of you reap the lives he and his team have taken, his brows furrow and you can tell he wants to ask you questions. Humans have always been curious creatures. “If you have something on your mind, speak up.”

“Who are those?” His fingers point at a version of you who slowly fades away.

“They are me and I am them.”

“That tells me exactly nothing.”

A soft laugh escapes you, even death this man is fearless.

“They are parts of my soul.” You explain. “I prefer to guide every soul to the afterlife personally, but with the volume of souls on this earth, I have to split myself in order to keep up.”

“And I am talking to the main version of Death?”

“That is how you could call it.”

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Splitting yourself?”

“I am no mortal being, pain does not exist in my realm. So to answer your question. It does not hurt.”

His fingers go to the bullet wound in his head, his fingers trailing on the edges, before he pulls them back and looks at the blood on his fingers. “Huh. I got so caught up with this whole being dead thing, that I forgot I got shot.”

A smile forms around your lips. “You’re not the first to which that has happened.”

He is mesmerized, can you blame him? It is not every day that you meet death in person.

“If there is a death, does life exist too?”

“Yes. And Life is quite nice.”

“You’ve met them?”

“Of course, without Life I would not exist, and without me, Life would not be able to continue their creations. We dance a dance of existence together.”

“Hm.” John seems content with your answer. “Hey, can we follow L.T?”

“Simon Riley?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.” The benefit of being an immortal creature was that the law of physics and time did not apply to you, or to Johnny for that matter. “Why him, though?”

“I worry about him the most.” Johnny admitted with a shrug, a flicker of emotions in his eyes before it dies down again. “He had a fucked up life, and we had grown to be good friends, I worry he won’t take my death well.”

Oh sweet summer child, if you only knew. But you cannot interfere with the living and it is no point in telling Johnny what you know, so you keep quiet and grant his request.

“He has become my best friend in the military, you know?” Johnny breaks the silence, as you watch Simon, who at this time, doesn’t seem to feel a thing.

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Been watching the taskforce for a while.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you give a lot of answers. Now why were you watching us?”

“You’re soldiers. Death follows you around.”

“In the most literal sense.” He laughs at his own joke, and all you do is stare at him, blinking a few times.

“Jezus, even L.T. wasn’t as hard to crack.” He mutters.

“I worry.” John repeats. “I worry that when I died. Simon died too, and Ghost remained.”

In a sense he is not wrong. You can feel it too, the guilt that Simon carries, the hatred towards himself for letting a friend die.

“He is grieving.” You eventually say. “And while grief is a beautiful thing, it expresses itself in the most destructive ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

You can see his face shift, he understands Simon won’t cope well, and it doesn’t sit right with him. “I guess there is no way I can interfere with it, right?”

“Correct.”

“Huh.” He stays silent for a brief moment, while he watches the mission debrief going on, without him, but about him. “How does time work here?”

“I am not sure what you mean.”

“Can’t you speed up time or something? Turns out watching people gets kind of boring.”

Humans had always been impatient beings. “I can.” You say. “I can fast forward until we see Simon all by himself.”

His eyes light up, and you’ve hit the mark. “Yes, yes, I need to see how he copes.”

Alas, you grant him his wish, after all, you are death, not some cruel being.

His eyes widen as time around the two of you starts to speed up, the world moving at a faster pace while you are both the centre of it. You see his emotions shift to a sad one, he tries to hide it, but it is hard to conceal the emotions in his eyes, even for a hardened soldier. A soft sigh escapes him when he watches the sunset and you understand it. The sunsets are your favourite thing on earth too.

“It is hard to grasp that I’ll never see another sunset again.” John whispers and you can do nothing but nod. You understand, of course you do. “I just wish I would have appreciate them more while I was alive.”

“For what it is worth. You’re not the first who only appreciates the beauty of life when it is ripped away from them.”

A pained expression paints his face. “It is really the end, huh?” He mutters softly as you slow down time again. “There will be no second chances after this.”

“We are here.” You say, but you only form your sentence to get him out of his thoughts, of course he recognizes Simon’s quarters. He has been there before.

You guide him through the wall, knowing that what the both of you are about to see isn’t a pretty sight. Simon had taken his famous Ghost mask off, balaclava tossed on his bed, an empty look in his eyes, while he watches the dog tags in his hand. One of them is missing, and a smile curls around your lips when you realise where they are.

John doesn’t notice, instead he is hesitant to reach out to his friend.

“Fuck!” Simons booming voice startles John. “Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Simon is blaming himself and all that hatred needs to come out. His fists slam down on the mirror on the wall, the shards digging in to the skin on his hands, but it only fuels Simon’s anger. “It should have been me! Fucking me!”

Times like these make your job hard, while you do not understand humans all the time, you can understand their grief, their longing, their desperate attempts to cope with their loved ones being gone.

His hands clutch around the dog tag, the material reminder he has of his best friend. You know Simon wants to cry, to let out all the build up frustration, but you also know Simon is raised by violence and not by love, so he doesn’t allow himself to. Blood drips slowly from his balled fist as he takes deep breaths to calm himself down. Not that it is doing much, every time Simon catches a glimpse of himself, he is reminded of the loss that happened today.

“Is he going to be okay?” John asks.

“I don’t know.” You answer, but you know, you know what will happen, and you know it won’t be pretty, but John doesn’t need to know, not when you can see the pain on his face, the pain in his eyes. The pain in his very soul to see his friend react like this.

His breath hitches in his throat when he sees Simon looking for something, a hidden bottle of whiskey appearing from between his socks in his dresser.

“Fuck.” John’s voice is soft. “Fuck!” It isn’t as soft anymore when Simon takes the first swig.

“Are you really sure I can’t do something? Anything?”

You shake your head.

“Please, anything. I beg you.” The desperation in his voice is clear as day, he doesn’t even try to hide how he feels about his best friend drinking.

“I.. I.. I can’t see this. Simon CAN’T drink himself to death because of me, because I died, becau-“

“He doesn’t drink himself to death.”

And for John time stops again, the weight of the world falling off his shoulders. “Oh thank God.” He sighs. “I mean, thank you, thank life? What is appropriate to say?”

He doesn’t drink himself to death, it will be far worse.

“Thank God is fine.” You eventually answer.

John looks at Simon again, who keeps on drinking the whiskey as if he needs it to survive. “I’m sorry.” Simon eventually says, and John’s eyes lit up. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” John rambles. “It wasn’t your fault. We all knew Makarov was an asshole.”

“It should’ve been me.” Simon sighs, not hearing the words his best friend so desperately wants to hear him. “You had so much things you still wanted to do, you still had a life in store.”

“Bollocks, Simon.” John tries to tell him while Simon takes another sip. “Fucking bollocks. You can make something out of your life too! We’ve talked about this.”

The nearly empty bottle gets thrown to the wall when Simon locks eyes with the dog tag again. “Fuck. I really hope that when I wake up tomorrow, you’ll still be alive, and this is all a horrible dream.”

Simon ignores the mess on the ground, he ignores the life outside of his quarters, he ignores the world that keeps on spinning, that keeps going on, while his life stopped the moment that bullet hit John. Instead he half undresses himself, slow, lazy movements, the alcohol making it hard to be precise. And he curls up in a ball, the single dog tag clutched in his hand, close to his heart, an gesture to keep his best friend close to him.

“Oh L.T. that hangover is going to hurt.” John mumbles. “And you promise he won’t drink himself to death, right?”

“I promise.”

“And I really can’t give him a sign that I am still here? Or you know, put a glass of water on his nightstand or something?”

“Afraid not.”

“I wish I could though.” John adds with a sigh, looking over the sleeping form of his friend.

“How is the rest coping?”

“You mean John and Kyle?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to see?”

His eyes light up again. “Can I?”

“Wouldn’t have said it, if you couldn’t”

“In that case, yes, yes please.”

“Who first?”

He needs to think for a brief moment, does he want to see his Captain first, or his other good friend? He isn’t as worried about them as he was about Simon, yet the decision seems an easy one.

“Kyle.”

“Very well.” You hold out your hand for him to take, taking him to the quarters of his other friend. The young man lies on his bed, above the sheets, just staring at the ceiling, tears burning in his eyes.

John needs to swallow a lump in his throat. “He’ll be fine.” Will he?

“But shit.” John continues. “I wish I had told him I was proud of him more often.”

The both of you stay quiet while Kyle rolls over to his side, facing the wall, eyes still wide open.

“He was a little younger than I was, but we had the same rank, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t become the best soldier out there. So young, yet so many achievements already.” John runs a hand through his mohawk. “I just.. I just hope he knows how proud I am of him.”

Another smile tugs around your lips, while Kyle rolls over again, it is clear that he can’t seem to get comfortable, the events of today replaying in his mind while he tries to process what happens, while he tries to find a balance between being a tough soldier, and being human.

“I want to become like you Soap, when I grow up.” Kyle mutters, before he finally closes his eyes. And you look over to John, making sure that he heard the words that left his friends lips and in that moment he looks like a proud father, the same words he had once told Simon, were now said by someone he was so proud of.

John wants to reach out, pat his friend on the shoulder and promise him everything will be okay. But he can’t and you can tell it is eating him inside. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and another.

“Okay.” He finally said. “I think I want to see the Captain now.”

“Sure.”

Once more you hold out your hand for him to take, allowing him to see his Captain.

“Oh.”

It Is not a pretty sight. Price’s phone lights up time after time, missed calls from Laswell, from Nicolai, but he doesn’t answer them, paperwork gets ignores while he smokes cigar after cigar. His way to cope with stress.

“Shit.” John curses. “I would’ve thought captain would be the least affected.”

But Price is only human, and humans grief in the worst ways possible. The taskforce had become the family he once dreamed of having, he found solace in the people around him, and losing one was always hard, especially when it was someone who was close to him. Price slams his fist on his desk, startling John.

“Makarov came for me.” The voice coming out of Price is soft, a stark contrast with the loud slamming of his fist only moments ago. “You died because you tried to help me.”

“You would’ve done the same, cap.” John answers. “You would’ve given your life to save any of us.”

Price sighs and shakes his head, his hand reaching out to grab a picture off his desk, a group picture, the four of them together.

“Fucking idiot.” Price mutters. “You should’ve never done that. I should bring you back from the death, only to kick you so hard you’ll die again.” It is almost an endearing way of coping and John can’t help but chuckle.

You give John a nudge, pointing at the dog tags Price is wearing. Instead of two, his chain has three. John’s being added after he identified the body and gave Laswell the details for the report.

John’s gaze softens as he notices. “I’ll never be far away from them.”

“Never.”

“You know what. I think they’ll be alright without me. They will learn to live again.”

You can tell he wants to tell you that he is ready to move on, but you stop him by raising your hand. “Do you want to see your final moment together?”

“Sure.”

Once again you reach out your hand for him to take, and within the blink of an eye you’re in the Scottish highlands, three adults standing by a cliff, an urn in their hands. It is almost peaceful, serene.

“Who dares wins, sleep easy soldier.” Price is the first to talk.

“See you down range, brother. We’ll take it from here.” Kyle is the second to follow.

“Rest in peace, Johnny.” Simon is the last to speak.

You and John watch Simon unscrew the lid of the urn, tilting it, allowing the ashes to dance with the wind.

“I feel… at peace.” John mentions, watching his ashes spread through the air.

He sits down on the edge of the cliff, patting down next to him, signalling you to sit next to him, and so you do.

“I want to ask something.”

“And if I can, I will answer.”

“Why do you look human? Are you human?”

“No, I am not human.”

“Then what are you?”

“I am death. I have always been death and I will always be death. However, if I choose to portray myself other than human, it will make your kind freak out even more.”

John can’t help but laugh at your words. “Truth be told, I think I would’ve freaked out to see something else than human, yes.”

His gaze falls on the beautiful scenery in front of the two of you.

“So, what happens next?”

“When you’re ready I’ll help you cross to the afterlife.” You answer.

“What is the afterlife like?”

“That depends. It is different for everyone.” You reply.

“Is there like a heaven and hell?”

“No. The afterlife is a place where your soul goes to after your body has died. Every soul gets its own realm, and there it stays, together with all the souls it loves.”

“So, does that mean I’ll see the soul of my grandmother?”

“If you loved her, yes.”

“Does that.. does that mean I’ll see Bobby again?”

“Your dog?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve missed him.”

“He knows.”

“I’m glad.”

John knows it is time for him to go, but he has to ask the question that burns within him.

“Will I see them again?”

“Eventually. I can tell your bond is strong enough for all of you to be reunited again in the afterlife.”

“I’ll wait for them.”

“And when their time has come I’ll be sure to guide them to you.”

“Thank you, Death.” For the last time John takes your hand in his. “I am ready now.”

Out of all three of them, Kyle had struggled the most with John’s death, or Soap, as the living men preferred to refer to him. Their silly nicknames never made much sense to you, how could John become a Soap, a Kyle become a Gaz, and a Simon become a Ghost?

Kyle had seen Soap – John – as some sort of mentor, someone to look up to, and the fact that that person was gone, was something Kyle couldn’t grasp, something he didn’t want to grasp.

It turned out that Soap also was the glue that held the four of them together, and with him being gone, the group of soldier started to fall apart, slowly, but surely.

And all you could do was wait patiently.

So you did, waiting in the shadow after Kyle took dangerous mission after dangerous mission. Today was no exception, much to the despair of his captain. Not that that would stop Kyle. No, Kyle felt as if he had to prove himself, he wanted to make Soap proud, he wanted to make Simon proud, he wanted to make his captain proud. So much that he forgot his own mortality in the process.

And there he was, laying in the high grass, hiding from the enemy that planted a bullet into his lower abdomen.

Time for you to come into action, you had been lurking into the shadow for a while now, and just when you were ready to step out again, you saw them. Life.

“Not yet, Death.” Life’s bright voice sounds. “This one isn’t done yet.”

You can only watch while Life takes his hand into theirs, making sure Kyle can hold on until help arrives.

Life is everything Death isn’t. Where you, Death, are surrounded by sadness, despair, and darkness, Life is surrounded by joy, happiness, and light. Yet your realms seem to interfere, blend in together, not every soul is happy to be alive, and other souls deserve to live longer than the universe can grand them.

Life and Death dance around the world, leaving a trail of love and grief wherever they go.

“Gaz!” A loud voice booms over the field, his lieutenant comes running over, as fast as his legs can carry him. “Seems like you will win this round, Life.” You muse, as you watch Simon apply pressure to the wound.

“I need a medic, NOW!” Simon yells. “I can’t lose you Gaz.” He adds with a softer voice. “Not you too.”

But Kyle can’t look Simon in his eyes, not yet, right now he isn’t able to cope with the disappointment he will see in his lieutenants eyes. “I’ll be fine.” Kyle mutters with a meek smile, and you can see Life squeeze his hand.

“Of course.” Simon agrees, because Simon doesn’t dare to think about the fact that he might lose someone he cares about again.

“You’ll be okay Gaz, I’ll make sure.” And with those words, Simon spews out what he wanted to tell to Soap.

And Kyle will be okay, Life had made sure that he escaped from your grasp for the final time. Life continued to hold Kyle’s hand until he reached the infirmary, Life didn’t let go off his hand until the first stitch was placed in the wound, letting him live until his time was up.

And you just followed, following Life and Kyle into the infirmary, quietly waiting. Kyle’s time would come, quicker than he would expect it to happen.

Life finally let go off his hand, giving you a quick nod before they disappeared again.

You just watched, seeing fragments of yourself guide the souls of the less fortunate while you had yourself fixated on the young man before you.

You watched over his shoulder when he took out his phone. His hand shaking while he went to call his mother, a shaky breath leaving his lips when his mother picked up the phone and the video call starts.

“Mom.”

“Kyle? My boy, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You never call without a reason. What’s on your mind?”

“Just.. I know.. You.. I..” The poor boy started to stutter, not able to express the emotions he wanted to express.

And a mothers love knows no boundaries. “Are you worried about John, Bearie?”

A sour expression crossed his face by the nickname from his childhood, but it is quickly swallowed. “Yeah.” He muttered softly.

You know the look his mother bears, it is the look of a woman who wishes her son wasn’t away from her, a mother who wishes she could crawl through the phone to comfort her son about his fallen teammate.

“What is on your mind, boy?”

“I just wonder ma.” Kyle starts. “I wonder if he was in pain, if he was scared, if he would ever be proud of me.”

No he wasn’t, more pissed off than scared, more than you’ll ever know.

His mother sighs softly. “Those are questions you’ll never find an answer to. But I get it, I had the same questions when your grandpa passed. And I like to think that both of them are proud of us. You have reason to be proud, Kyle. I am sure John is proud of you too.”

The expression on his face softens. “Thank you mom.”

“Anytime Bearie.”

He rolls his eyes, quick enough so that his mother doesn’t catch on.

“Do you want to speak to your sisters too?”

“No, I’m quite tired, just missed you.”

“I miss you too Kyle. Promise me you’ll come home soon yeah?”

“Promised ma, I’ll see you soon okay?”

“I love you, Bearie, stay safe.”

“Love you too mom.”

The moment his call gets disconnected, he presses his lips against his phone, wishing to press the same kiss against his mothers forehead. Kyle had never struggled to be away from his family, but with Soap’s passing, he found himself longing to be with his family more and more. Maybe he would take a little break after his next mission.

But Kyle never got to take that break. Soon after he was cleared from the infirmary he found himself taking dangerous missions again. The promise to his mother being long forgotten whenever he found himself enjoying the rush again, the feeling of being alive, of being worthy, he finally felt as if he mattered.

Not that any of that was important right now. Because right now Kyle was about to meet you. He had found himself caught in enemy crossfire once more, being in the delusion that he is in fact invincible. But he isn’t, no one is really no matter how often they think they are.

Kyle groans, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his short breaths, as his hands clutch the wound on his chest, he knew that time was running out, and even you knew that Life wouldn’t be able to keep him away from you.

“Hello.”

Kyle looks up at your words, his eyes wide with fear. “Are you? Did I? Am I dead?”

“Not yet.”

“Fuck.” His face scrunches in pain.

“I suppose I can’t sweet talk my way out of dying.”

“Afraid not.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I promised mom I would come home again.”

“You did.”

“How did you know?”

“That is something for later. Right now I would advice you to call your mother.”

A short flash of gratitude in his eyes before the pain takes over again. With a bloody hand he takes out his phone, dialling his mother’s number. But she doesn’t pick up, she is on the other side of the world, blissfully unaware that her son is about to breathe his last breath.

His lips press together to a thin line when he reaches her voicemail.

“Mommy?” His voice is quivering when he speaks. “It’s me, Bearie. I’m so sorry, but I won’t be coming home again. I.. I.. I.. I was too reckless, thought I had to make you and the whole world proud after Soap died, and now I never get to see you again.” The words spill out of him worried his life will be over before he can say the things he wants her to hear.

“I am so sorry for breaking my promise mom, I love you, I love the girls. Please don’t blame yourself.” His breathing is getting quicker and he starts to get cold, a sign for you that his time is coming to an end. You hold out your hand to him, a subtle notice that he has to hurry up.

“Mom. Mom I can’t say this enough, I should’ve said it more to you, but I love you. I really love you, thank you for being my mother.”

One raspy breath, another raspy breath.

“Oh and mom? It doesn’t hurt, I promise. It doesn’t hurt and I am not scared.”

Lair.

He ends the call, the pain is visible in his face, in his eyes. In everything. His hand is shaking when he reaches for your held out hand, and the moment you touch him, it is over. The pain disappears, his face relaxes.

Kyle stands besides you, looking at his dead body. “I had to lie to her, you know. She would never forgive herself for allowing me to join the army.”

“Do not worry, I am not here to judge you.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“To guide you.”

“To hell?”

“No, to the afterlife.”

“Oh.”

It stays quiet for a little bit.

“How did you know I had promised mom that I would come home?”

“You should’ve been dead the last time you got shot, but Life decided you were allowed some more time.”

“Can I thank Life?”

“No, Life is a shy creature, and prefers to not be seen by the mortals. I am in no position to deny Life their wishes.”

A quick nod, as Kyle seems to understand what you mean.

He looks at his body again, and a sad look appears on his face. “Will my mother at least have my body back home?”

You nod. “Yes, let me speed up time a little, because it does take a while.”

“You can speed up time?”

“Correct, right now you are no longer in the world of the living, but in my realm. My rules apply here.”

He relaxes as time begins to speed up.

“Watch closely.” You urge. “You might not have realised, but the sunset are always beautiful.”

He goes to sit down, next to his body, and he allows himself to enjoy the setting sun, a soft, smooth transition to the night.

“Gaz, this is Ghost, how copy?” That is your cue to slow down time again.

“Gaz, how copy?”

“Can I answer him?”

“No, everything you do here, has no influence on the world of the living.”

“Shit, they must be worried.”

“Kyle, how copy?”

“Fuck. Kyle, stay where you are, I am coming.”

Kyle leans back into the grass. “Did you guide Soap too?”

“I did.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was there when he got shot. Guided him to the afterlife too.”

“Did he.. Did he mention me?”

“Mention you? He wanted to stay in my realm until he was sure all three of you could cope.”

Kyle smiles. “He always was a good friend. Did he say anything about me?”

“Only that he was proud of you, and that he should’ve told you more often.”

“He did?”

“I have no benefit in lying.”

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the tears in his eyes. “Fuck. I really thought he would’ve been so disappointed in me.”

“He wasn’t. By all means he was telling me how proud he was, how much you had achieved already.”

Kyle’s phone rings, and the screen lights up with the name of his mother, the moment the ringing ends, it starts again immediately. And again. And again. Kyle has a sad look on his face. “I hate that I broke my promise to her.” He admits.

“I understand that.”

“God, she will be so heartbroken.”

“Yes. But you did give her some closure by that voicemail. She will cherish it till the end of her dying days. Even though it was a lie, hearing from you that it didn’t hurt, that you weren’t scared. It will help her heal more than you can imagine.”

Kyle wipes away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. “I am glad. She really is the best you know? Always been supportive of my dreams, even when my father left, she was there for me, always putting me and my sisters first.”

“It sounds like you love her.”

“More than I’ve loved myself.”

You watch Simon approach, his face hidden behind his mask, but the emotion in his eyes is clear. “Fuck, no. Gaz.”

He drops down the body of his friend, searching for a pulse, but the body had gone cold already, and in a moment of emotion, of weakness even, Simon cradles the dead body of his friend. “Not you too man, come on.”

Kyle has to swallow a lump in his throat. “Shit.”

Simon reaches for his radio. “Gaz has been found and identified, Killed in action. I’ll return soon.”

“Will he be okay? I noticed him drinking more after Soap died, and I don’t want him to drink himself to death because of my death.”

“He won’t drink himself to death.”

“Really? Oh god that is a relief.”

He watches, as Simon picks up his body, and carries him away.

“How does the Captain cope?” Kyle asks.

“I can show you?”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

By the gods, that wasn’t a good sight to see, the captain looked at least fifteen years older, the constant smoking now had the company of a bottle of whiskey.

A fourth dog tag on the chain.

“Fuck.” Price muttered. “Fuck, it never gets any fucking easier.”

The fingertips of Price trace the outline of Kyle’s file. “I never should’ve let you go on this mission.”

“I hope he knows I would’ve gone on another dangerous mission if he would’ve declined me this one.” Kyle answers.

“He knows, deep down he knows, but it is easier for you humans to find a way to blame yourself.”

“Will the captain be okay?”

“He will be the last of you four to pass.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh, I guess the captain is tougher than he looks.”

“That he is.”

“And Ghost? Will he be okay?”

“He won’t drink himself to death.”

“Final question, will mom be okay?”

“Your mother? She will never be herself again. She will always miss you, mourn you, but your urn gets a little shrine, and she will never toss out your childhood stuffed animals.”

“How long will it take for her to have me home again?”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be able to cope once I see her heartbroken face. Right now all my memories of her are nice ones, and I will break my own heart if I see her grieve.”

“That is fair.”

Kyle looks at his captain again, before he turns to look at you.

“Will I see Soap again?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Once you’ve moved on to the afterlife, your soul will connect with the souls you’ve loved.”

“Can I go now? Simon will be alright, Captain will be alright, and mom will eventually be alright too. I feel like I can leave them now and not be worried.”

Kyle takes a deep breath. “And I would like to catch up with Soap.”

“Very well.”

You hold out your hand to him. “Let me guide you then.”

Simon Riley. You had been following the man ever since he was born. There had been times where he had been ready to leave this earth, only to be pulled back by Life on the last second.

It would be a lie if it wouldn’t make you question whether or not it would be ethical to keep certain people alive. But that wasn’t up to you to judge after all.

Even after he escaped the horror that was his childhood home, death seemed to follow Simon, his hand never steered clear from the blood that stained him.

But this time? This time it was different.

Simon couldn’t cope with the death of Gaz and Soap, leaving him a broken mess. But Simon was taught that feelings, emotions should be hidden inside, piling up until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

So Simon did what he knew best, copying the coping skill of his father, empty bottles piling up just like the feelings piled up inside of him. Whiskey replacing the companionship that his friends no longer could give them, the burning sensation of the liquid making him feel alive, a feeling he thought he didn’t need anymore, but he felt himself craving it, chasing it.

And of course people around him were worried, John tried to talk to him, John had seen this way too often before. Soldiers not being able to cope with the loss, turning to the poison that roamed this earth, alcohol, drugs and self-destruction in the from of women. And John had tried to stop it, tried to warn him, but Simon was a grown man, capable of making his own choices, no matter how destructive.

You knew you had promises Soap and Gaz that Simon wouldn’t drink himself to death, and with the amount of liquor he was pumping into his system, you almost got the feeling you had been lying.

But Simon would bounce back from the alcohol abuse, with the help of his captain that is.

It had been a day like any other, Simon would try to focus on his work, his mind already on the numbing temptation of the liquor, briefings, conversations, details, they would all go past him like a blur while he tried to deceive the people around him. And usually after a day of work, he would lock himself into his quarters, drinking until he forgot his fallen teammates.

“A word.” John’s voice is loud, a little too loud for Simon’s liking.

“About what?”

“You.”

“What is there about me?”

“Why did you join the army?”’

You watch, slightly amused at the low blow John just spat out.

“Don’t you fu-“

“Answer my fucking question, Simon. Why did you join the fucking army.”

And you can tell Simon is struggling to answer that question, hell he doesn’t want to answer that question, because that would mean he could no longer pretend he wasn’t following his fathers footsteps.

“I joined to escape home.”

“And why did you have to escape home?”

“Because my father was an abusive alcoholic.”

“Then tell me, Simon, why the fuck are you turning into your father?”

“Bullshit John.”

“Bullshit? You think you’re sleek, only bringing away the bottles in the early morning. Do you think we really don’t hear the clinking of the glass while you wander these halls? Do you really think no one can smell it on your breath?”

“You don’t get it.”

You had seen John often enough to recognize the subtle anger in his face, flaring nostrils, a slight raise of his brows, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t get it?”

“You have no idea how much their death affected me.”

“I have no idea because you shut yourself out and rather poison yourself.” John spat back at him.

“You have no idea what I have been through Captain, and I would strongly advice you stray away to this topic.”

“You’re right. I did not have your upbringing, and I do wish you dad had healed before he came your father, but you do not get to tell me about grief.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am affected too. I was the one who asked Soap to come with me to Makarov, I was the one who approved Gaz going on that mission. And I can’t let you drink yourself to death, Simon. I will not be responsible for your death too.”

Both men are silent, straying into territory they are not used too, at least not with each other. Both men had been told that their emotions were forbidden, that emotions should not be on display for others to see.

But you could see their hurt souls, their broken souls, needing the company of each other. John is the first to give in. Holding his arms open and Simon clings on for dear life.

“God fucking damnit boy, get your shit together, that is an order.”

“I forget then when I’m drunk enough.”

“I know. But forgetting them isn’t the way to go. You shouldn’t forget them, celebrate their life because they no longer can.”

“I will, Captain.”

“Good.” John let go off him, giving him a rough pat on his back. “Do you need anything from me, the military?”

“A little time off.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay all by yourself? I can get a therapist for you if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Good. Now, get some rest, I’ll pull some strings to get you someone to talk to.”

“Thanks Cap, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

Something was off, something was different, and John couldn’t really put his finger on it, but decided to not press any further. He had nagged Simon long enough and it felt as if his point had come across good enough.

Simon on the other hand, felt a calm feeling he hadn’t experienced before. A decision crossing his mind when he gripped his sink, tears streaming down his face when he recognized his father in the mirror. Simon knew he wouldn’t be strong to recover, he had become an alcoholic, just like his father.

“Fuck!” His fist slams the mirror, the second one this year, blood running down his arm while he takes in the freedom the pain gives him. His mind is only giving him one solution, the emotions, his grief, the craving to alcohol, they’re making it impossible to think straight.

Simons scribbles something down on a piece of paper. Before he takes a deep breath and looks around his room. John had been right, Simon thought it had alle been under control, but he was lying to himself, the half full bottles being the proof of that, but not anymore, not any longer.

He takes place in his own bathtub, a piece of glass gripped tightly in his right hand. You know what is about to happen and this is always your least favourite part.

He doesn’t drink himself to death.

Tears blur his vision when the sharp material pierces his skin, dragging down. He doesn’t even register the pain, all he can feel is the peace and quiet his mind gives him. So he does it again, and again, going deeper each time.

His head tilts back and he drops the shard of glass, causing it to shatter on the ground.

It stays silent, the only sound is his blood dripping on the floor of the bathtub. Life is nowhere to be seen, and you know this is his end. In a split second you make a decision.

The universe had been too unkind to Simon already, the least you could do was to make sure he didn’t have to die alone.

“Hello.”

“What the fuck are you? How the fuck did you get in?” His eyes snap open and his head snaps back to face you.

“I am Death.”

“Did I die already?”

“Not yet.”

“Than why the fuck are you here?”

“Because this will kill you, and I did not want you to die alone.”

“Well thanks for your concern but I don’t need your pity.”

“Gaz and Soap did not have to die alone.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Gaz and Soap did not have to die alone.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

You chuckle softly. “I guided them too.”

His face softens. “How.. What.. What did they say?”

“Soap was pissed off, Gaz was worried he had let his mother down.”

“Sounds like them.”

“It is nearly your time, Simon.”

“Will the pain stop?”

“When you’re dead? Yes, yes the pain will stop.”

“I can’t wait to be pain free.”

“Tell me about your favourite memory?”

“Of what?”

“Anything you please.”

Simon has to think for a little while.

“My brother.” He eventually starts. “Had gotten a part time job, and he needed to give the money to our father, but he had hidden his first pay check. So when our father was passed out on the couch again, we snuck out.” A smile forms on his face.

“We bought a cake, one of those fancy ones with a lot of frosting. We ate it in the skatepark where we used to hangout a lot. I ate so much cake I couldn’t stand it for the longest time afterwards. But for the time that it took for us to eat that cake, we were happy, not a care in the world, just loads of sugar and each other.”

He hadn’t noticed yet, but the shackles of life had fallen off during his story, setting him free of his mortal pain.

“I miss him.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

“How’s the pain, Simon?”

“Which pa- Oh fuck.”

You watch as he gets up from the bathtub, looking at his body, he died smiling, his eyes closed, almost looking happy.

“You deserved better.”

“I did.” He agrees.

Simon clears his throat. “So what now? You take me to hell and I’ll burn for eternity?”

“Why would you burn in hell?”

“I am a soldier, I killed people. People who deserved it, and people who might not have deserved it.”

“And that is equal to eternal suffering?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Don’t you think you have suffered enough?”

His face turns pale, the words slowly sinking in while he recalls his whole life.

“So there is no hell for me?” his voice is a soft whisper.

“There is no hell for you.”

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck I was so scared for hell, that had been the only thing holding me back from killing myself earlier.”

“So” He looks at his body again. “What would be next?”

“Once you are ready, I’ll take you to the afterlife.”

“How do I know I’ll be ready?”

“You’ll feel it.”

“I don’t feel it yet.”

“Then you can stay with me.”

He nods, liking the answers that you’ve given him. “I have some questions.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Can I ask them?”

“Of course. I’ll answer them if I have the answer.”

“How do you know which soul to reap?”

“I just know.”

“Okay, and now you are here with me, does that mean no one else dies on the world.”

“If that was the case a lot of deaths would’ve been postponed.” You answer. “I can split myself into fragments, therefor I am able to reap multiple souls.”

“How did you, you know, get into this profession?”

“I was created to be Death. It is all I have ever known, and it is all I will ever know.”

“Hm.” His eyes shift to his body again.

“What is the afterlife, and who will be there?”

“Everyone will be there, every soul goes to the afterlife, and you’ll reconnect with the souls that love you.”

Simon has to swallow a lump in his throat, he wants to say something but is interrupted by a knock on the door. “Simon?” John’s ruff voice sounds.

“Can I answer him?”

“Afraid not.”

“Simon!” the knocking returns. “I swear to God.” John mutters, as he opens the door to Simon’s room. “If you have been drinking again.”

John looks around the room, and you and Simon watch him do so. John’s gaze fall on the piece of paper, his face turning pale. “God fucking damnit.” The paper falls on the ground, slowly twirling in the air before it gently settles down.

‘this isn’t your fault.’ Even though you knew what would be on the letter your eyes automatically shift to the words on the white paper.

Johns open the door to Simon’s bathroom, and he just stand in the door opening, taking in the dead body of his teammate. “God damn it, Simon.” He repeats. “You could’ve talked to me you know.”

John moves over to the body, taking in the smile on Simon’s face. “At least you were happy.” John mutters.

His hands reach for Simon’s dog tags, taking one of the chain to add to his own. John’s fingertips rest on Simon’s cheek for a brief moment. “I hope death treats you better than life.”

Simon looks at you. “You do.”

“Thank you.”

“Will the Captain be okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I feel bad, for leaving him behind, for doing this.”

“He’ll understand, and when his time will come too, I’ll tell him about you.”

“Thank you.”

Simon looks at his feet. “I don’t know if you can do this, but I want to visit Johnny.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to go to the Scottish Highlands, to the place where we set his ashes free.”

You hold out your hand to him. “I’ll take you there.”

Simon’s eyes light up as he takes your hand into his, and before he can blink twice, you’ve transported the both of you to the exact same place.

“I forgot how beautiful it was here.” Simon says, as he sits down on the exact same spot where Johnny had sat down, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that their souls are happy together in another universe.

You go to sit down next to him. “It is beautiful here.”

The both of you sit in silence, you know Simon wants to ask you something, a question burning within him ever since John had interrupted, but you’re not filling anything in, letting Simon come to you when he is ready.

“You mentioned something about souls and love.” Simon eventually says.

“I did.”

“Who will be waiting for me?”

A faint hint of a smile can be seen on your face.

“More than you’ll expect.”

“Tommy?”

You just nod and Simon let out a shaky breath.

“It has been a while since I’ve seen him, I’ve missed him terribly. Who else?”

“Tommy, Beth, Joseph, your mother. Roach. Gaz, Soap. They will all be there.”

“Will they be mad for what I did?”

“They love you too much to be mad.”

“I’ve known more love death, than I’ve done alive.”

You turn to look at him. “I know, and I am sorry.”

“Is there anything I had done to deserve such a life?”

You want to wince, flinch at his words, but it is a fair question.

“No. Sometimes the universe isn’t fair when it gives somebody a course of life. You were a child, Simon. What happened to you, should’ve never happened, not to you, not to anyone.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re brave.” You add. “You’ve survived something you shouldn’t have had to face in the first place.”

“How do you cope with it?” Simon asks.

“With what?”

“The unfairness?”

You let out a sigh. “It is hard. Sometimes I have to guide innocent souls to the afterlife, souls I would have wished had a long and sweet life. And sometimes I see souls who I felt deserved death a long time ago. Unfortunately I cannot change the course of the universe, nor can I change the free will of humans.”

“Do you feel remorse?”

“No. I am no mortal, nor do I possess mortal feelings. I do however acknowledge the unfairness of certain situations.”

“I see. It is hard for me to imagine.”

“I get that.”

“Hey Death?”

“Yes, Simon?”

“Do you promise that they will be waiting for me in the afterlife?”

“I promise.”

Simon holds out his hand to you. “Then please, let me see them again.”

John Price.

The man had seen more than enough death for a lifetime. Yet it wouldn’t be the last of it. Being a soldier signed him up to a lifetime of death and despair. But unlike the others, John seemed to accept it a whole lot better. Yes he did feel guilty, yes he wished life could’ve turned out different, for him, for his team, for all of them.

But it didn’t, so he had to learn how to cope.

Even though you know his time isn’t there yet, you decide to follow him around, just a little more, just to see how he would cope. That is what you would tell yourself anyway, maybe you had been getting a little attached to this group of men.

You watch John approach the cemetery, four bouquets of flowers in his hands, a picnic basket hanging on his arm while he walks, silence lingering around him, and if he were in company, they would feel the tension surrounding him. But John is alone, except for your company, who would’ve guessed Death would’ve be such good company?

Three out of the four bouquets get placed on the ground, alongside the picnic basket, number four, a bouquet of tulips. Yellow tulips. John places them on the first grave, his hand brushes away the dirt on the gravestone. “Well, for someone whose nickname is Soap, it sure gets dirty quick.” John chuckles at his own joke. John kneels down at the grave, removing some of the weeds that had grown, using his hand to brush the rest of the gravestone clean.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” He mutters. “Sorry I dragged you along to that mission. I’m sorry you had to catch the bullet meant for me.” John awkwardly pats the gravestone.

“If I had known that would be our last moment together, I would’ve spent the car ride to our destination telling you how proud I am of you.” He speaks, and while John knows that no one will hear his words, it feels good to get them off his chest.

“I would tell you how good you’re doing, how much you’ve grown. How much we all appreciated you. How we all enjoyed your jokes, even though some of us would rather perish than tell you that.”

“You probably already know, but Kyle and Simon joined you.”

“I wish I could have prevented this. Kyle.. He slipped right between my fingers, I never thought he would push and push the way he did, Johhny. I thought I was keeping him safe, keeping him busy, but in reality I was allowing him to die.”

John swallows the lump in his throat. “And Simon. I think I knew what was happening, I thought I knew what was going on, but I was wrong, so, so, so wrong.”

John takes a deep breath, inhaling the cold air into his lungs, before he slowly exhales. “You’ve been one hell of a soldier, Johnny, but more important, you’ve been an amazing person. I’ll see you again on the other side, take care of the boys for me, will ya?”

With a grunt John gets up from his knees, taking a new bouquet of flowers.

A colourful bouquet of freesias is put down in front of the next grave and John lets out a sigh again, staring into the distance. It is hard to read his face, and you can’t figure out what he is thinking.

“I’ve heard a lot of gut wrenching sounds, Kyle.” He finally speaks. “But I’ll never forget the screams of your mother when I had to confirm your death. The wailing will never leave my mind. I can’t erase it, no matter how hard I try.”

The captain uses his hand once more to brush some dirt of the gravestone, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sorry.” He says once more.

“I really wanted to believe life had so much in store for you. I should never had let you take on that mission, Kyle. I should’ve seen the signs, the desperate attempt to prove yourself to me, to Johnny, maybe even to Simon too.”

“But the truth is, boy, you never had to prove yourself in the first place. We all saw your potential, we all saw the amazing leader you could’ve become.” John runs a hand through his short hair. “I really wish we could’ve talked about this more. I really wish you would’ve told me you didn’t feel good enough, Kyle. I could’ve shown you my point of view.”

“But, we can’t undo what happened.” John continues. “I hope you can finally feel enough.”

“Your mother misses you. Your sisters too. Simon missed you. But I’m sure he has told you by now. Or not, we both know how he can be.”

“I.. I miss you too, Kyle. I would’ve loved for you to follow my footsteps.” John sighs again. “Simon couldn’t cope, but you already know that. Take care of him, yeah? I know he probably doesn’t want it, but he missed you and Johnny.”

John gives a final pat on the gravestone. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

He takes the third bouquet, a large bouquet of sunflowers, it is being put down on the newest gravestone. “Fucking hell, Simon.” He grunts. “Out of all people, I never thought you would do it. I thought I had it under control with you.”

“At least you had a smile on your face, and I wonder what went through your mind in your final moment.” A sad smile forms on John’s face. “I hope you’re at peace now.”

“Out of all their deaths, yours haunts me the most, Simon.” He confesses. “Because with yours it felt like I really could have changed the outcome, you know.” John kneels down next to the grave.

“I.. I.. I never got to say this Simon, but I am sorry that I compared you to your father. I was trying to get my point across and I’ve used words that I shouldn’t have used. I knew it was a low blow to mention him, and I’m sorry.” He rests his hand on the gravestone. “I hope my words didn’t push you over the edge, and I know you have made that little note for me, but I can’t help but feel guilty.”

John sighs once more, looking at the sunflowers on the ground. “I.. You didn’t have a home I could send you too, like Kyle, so I’ve spread your ashes on the same spot where we send Johnny home. I hope you’re okay with it.” He adds, with a meek smile.

“You’ve been one of the toughest people I’ve ever known in my life, and I’ve met a lot of tough motherfuckers, Simon. But you? You’ve bounced back from everything.”

“And no matter how guilty I feel, the fact that you had a smile on your face brings me a little bit of peace.”

“I hope that wherever you are, that you found your people again in the afterlife. That there will be enough souls waiting for you, to show you how loved you’ve always been.” John gets up from his knees again. “Don’t try to give the other too much shit, but keep them in check for me, yeah?”

He let his gaze fall on the three graves in front of him, a sad smile on his lips once more. His hand goes to the dog tags around his neck, there are too many to just be from one person. His gaze lingers on the names engraved in the stones.

John MacTavish

Kyle Garrick

Simon Riley

“It has been an honour. An honour to have known you all, an honour to have fought alongside you. The biggest honour has been to call you all my brothers in arms.” His voice is clear, never wavering as he pays his final respect, as he says his final goodbye.

“I promise you three that I’ll keep your graves in check, for as long as I live. I don’t care if they’re empty, they will forever be a reminder that you have all existed. Your legacy will live on.”

“I miss you all, until we meet again.”

After a final salute he picks up the last of the bouquets and the picnic baskets, and he walks further up the cemetery, walking past a grave that reads Herschel Shepherd. John gives the grave a quick nod. “You make me wish hell did exist.” He grumbles, flipping the headstone off. “Should’ve done it earlier.”

He continues to walk until he reaches another grave, putting down the picnic basket and the flowers, before he kneels down again, taking out a brush to gently sweep away any dirt.

Jenny Price

“I’m back again, love.” He sighs, as he tidies up the grave, making sure to pull the weeds, but leave the flowers that have grown intact. “It has been a while since I’ve visited, but I have a good reason, I promise.” He added with a chuckle.

He gets up after the stone is clean again, her name can be read again, and he takes a step back to admire his work. “Got you all cleaned up. Looking pretty as ever.”

He opens the picnic basket, taking out a blanket to lay it on the ground next to the stone. A bouquet of heliotropes, forget-me-nots and carnations. John sits down on the blanket, next to the gravestone.

“Next month..” He sighs, something he has done a lot this evening. “Next month, you’ll be gone for fourteen years now, Jen. And I still miss you as if it is the first day.”

He rests his head against the stone. “I miss the boys.” He whispers, almost as if he is afraid to confess it to her. “Blaming myself for it too. If you see them, take care of ‘m for me, please. Show them the love you’ve shown me.”

He takes out a small bottle of wine, and a cigar, leaving the picnic basket open. “I can only hope that Death guided them, the way you have been guided.”

“It’s been nearly fourteen year, love, and I still wake up in the middle of the night, searching for you, hoping you’ve just been in the bathroom and you’ll come back to lay next to me. I would give everything, Jen, and I mean everything, to just hold you once more, to feel your soft skin against mine again.”

“Being a captain, having my own taskforce, it all means less when I can’t share it with you. It all means so little, knowing that I won’t be able to hold you again, to hear your sweet voice ever again.” John opens up the bottle of wine he had brought, taking out the cork before he takes a swig, not bothering to take a glass. “You know.” He chuckled softly. “If I close my eyes and focus really hard. I can even hear you scold me again for drinking wine straight out of the bottle.”

“I finally had an orange again.” He mutters. “They apparently make special tools to help you peel them. So I can finally eat them again. It has been fourteen years, and I finally had an orange again.” He shakes his head. “I cried. I cried while eating it, the taste reminded me so much of you, the scent of the peel almost intoxicating. I remember how your hands would smell like orange the whole day after you’ve peeled mine. And I miss it, Jen. Fuck, I miss it so much.”

He falls silent, a stark contrast with the floodgates of words that spilled over his lips just seconds ago. His voice cracking when he speaks again. “It has always been you.”

“No other woman comes even close to you. It is weird, but I don’t even want another woman, I don’t feel the need to see someone, feel someone. Hell, I prefer to lay alone in that large bed, because when I fall asleep, you’re waiting for me in my dreams. You’re there, waiting for me to come home again.”

You’ve been watching him, while you sat on the nearby bench. Jenny Price. You remember reaping her soul, her husband had walked in on you, and he was the first mortal to see you, and to live to tell the story. But John kept it hidden, maybe that is why he had grown so strong, so tough, because he knew that death wouldn’t be an ugly thing, but an old friend waiting for you to come home again.

You’ve seen enough, as you get up from the bench. His time isn’t there yet, and you have enough to do anyway. Your gaze lingers on the captain, his head resting on the gravestone, his eyes closed as he brings up the memories he has with his late wife. It has become routine for him at this point, talking to her after a mission, visiting her whenever he could, keeping her grave as clean as he could. But for now you let him be. He deserved to have this little peace of mind before he would get sucked into the chaos of his day to day life.

Life goes on for the both of you, you have been reaping souls, he has been doing missions, neither of you meeting, although you take away the lives he has ended.

But his end is near, creeping up behind him, lurking in the shadows. Maybe he could feel it, maybe it was the universe apologising for taking away his wife, for taking away his teammates, but John finds himself at the cemetery again, talking to his old teammates, making sure that the weeds have been pulled, the flowers are fresh again. He updates them on his life, on the missions.

“We’ve done it.” He sighs, to no grave in particular. “We found Makarov. And I’ve put a bullet between his eyes, Johnny. Made sure he knew it was in your name. You should have seen the look on his face.”

And you remember, taking Makarov’s soul, it was safe to say the Rus was less than pleased, especially that John took his soul.

“Your mom is doing well, Kyle. She is still grieving as much as a mother does, but she is doing well. She finally got you that golden retriever you wanted as a kid. Named it Gaz, in your honour. Your sister graduated from her studies. She made sure to mention you in her speech. You would be so proud, Kyle.”

“And Simon, we have a mental health program dedicated to you, making sure that we can talk more open on base about mental health. So we can prevent that others feel the need to do what you did. You’ll live on.”

He moves on, once more laying out the blanket next to the grave of his late wife, sitting down next to her again. “There we are love.” He said with a grunt, lighting his cigar.

His gaze falls on the sky, looking at the setting sun. “You’re looking beautiful tonight.” He tells her. “I like it when you paint the sky orange. I never realised orange was my favourite colour until I found you in the sky every day.”

Maybe he could feel it, maybe your presence was looming to much on a cemetery. But John closes his eyes, breathing in the cold air into his lungs. He opens his eyes, seeing you in front of him.

“It is good to see you again, old friend.” He says.

“Hello.”

“Oh, you can skip the formalities.” He grunts. “I always thought I would die on the battlefield, not next to Jenny.”

“It has become a full circle, she passed in your arms, you will pass next to her gravestone.”

His eyes flash dark when he is reminded of how his wife had passed. “I never got to thank you for guiding Jenny.”

“It is what I do.”

“I know, but still. She was so scared, and you took that fear away.”

“I am glad that I could do it.”

“So, it is my time then.”

“Mhm, it is your call.” You respond. “But it will happen within the next few minutes.”

“Hm.” He answers with a murmur, as he rests his head against her gravestone again. “Wake me up when it’s done.”

You take place on the bench again, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath, his breathing turning steady as he falls asleep next to her gravestone. Sleeping together one last time.

You’re a patient creature, you have all the time in the world, so you wait, wait until his chest stops, until his heart stops beating. Before you can say a thing his soul leaves his body. John doesn’t talk to you yet, instead, he looks at his body, resting against the gravestone of his late wife.

“What a sight.” He sighs, turning to you.

And you just nod.

John turns to you. “I imagine that I also get to ask some questions before you bring me to the afterlife.”

“Anything you wish.”

John’s soul walks over to the bench you’re sitting on, having a view of the graves of his teammates and his late wife. “Do you think I am a bad person?”

“I am in no position to answer that question. For me and Life there is no such thing as a good person and a bad person. You all just exist with free will, and it is up to you how you use it.”

“If you were human, you would be a politician.” John snickers at his own joke.

You let out a sound that represents a huff. “Is this you calling me a bad person?”

“Only if you would be a British politician.”

“I would rather stay Death.”

He looks at the upcoming moon. “Did you guide my teammates too?”

“All of them.”

If he would be still alive he would be releasing a breath. “Glad you did.”

“They all wanted to know how you would cope.”

“They did?”

“Mhm.”

“Guess they cared more than I thought.”

“Of course they did.”

“Why was Simon smiling?”

“Why would I have something to do with it?”

“Because I know you wouldn’t have want him to die alone.”

“That much is true. I asked him his favourite memory. So he could die thinking about something happy.”

“And Kyle’s mother told me he has tried to call her and left a voicemail, I assume that is your doing too?”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Kyle’s upbringing was different from Simon’s.”

“As Death I do not discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. Life can be difficult and unfair enough. Why would I make their process of dying hard too?”

“That.. I.. I never thought about it that way.”

“I had no reason to grand you and Jenny some more time together, I had no reason to explain the afterlife to her, or to answer her questions about dying. Yet I did. Just like the universe does not need reasons to allow events in someone’s life to happen.”

“I see. Well, I think it is beautiful.”

John looks at his body, limped against the gravestone of his late wife.

“How did I die?”

“Your heart gave out.”

“Guess all those years of cigars, whiskey and stress finally caught up on me.” He chuckled. “I never noticed anything though, I mean I’ve been a little tired lately, but thought that was just the stress.”

You just tilt your head.

“Oh.”

“Heart diseases are something else.” You sigh. “A silent killer.”

“Learned that the hard way.”

His gaze shifts from his body to the gravestone next to him and he holds out his hand.

“As much as I liked seeing you again old friend, I am ready to go home, for the first time in fourteen years.”

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