#just casually walking around with bloody head
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Well, hello and welcome to the madhouse. @sock-1574, your wish is my command, here's a quick _v2 for this short. I wrote it at 10pm and it's unedited, forgive me if you find mistakes. Also, f!reader.
In his sleep, Simon turned to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you against his body, a completely casual move that he had done so many times in the past. He just wanted to warm up a little in the chilly room, because despite the thick blanket you insisted on using, he could still use a little help. But his eyes opened when he realized you weren’t there next to him. It was odd.
When he heard something break downstairs, he jumped out of bed, his instincts kicking in right away. It didn’t sound like a window breaking, more like a mug or a glass landing on the tiles. What were you even doing in the kitchen a little past two in the morning? He called out your name as he walked down the stairs several times, but there was no response. He heard a groan, then some soft sobbing, which made him believe something was wrong.
By the time he entered the kitchen, you were sitting on the floor with your head between your knees, a hand gripping the back of your neck as you cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Nothing, you didn’t even look at him. “Hey, come on, tell me. What’s wrong?”
“It hurts,” you mumbled through your tears.
“What hurts?”
“My head.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m dizzy, I feel like I could faint any second. I wanted to drink from your favorite mug and I broke it, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t give a damn about that bloody mug,” Simon said with a nervous sigh as he took your hand. “The hospital is ten minutes away, it’s faster if I take you there myself. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
He helped you up, but after only a few steps, he felt your body becoming heavier as you lost consciousness. Without thinking, he picked you up and grabbed the car keys from the table by the front door. The hospital was close to their house, he would get there sooner than the ambulance would arrive. It was a miracle that no cop stopped him because he drove like some maniac. He was in a hurry since you were still unresponsive, and deep down he was expecting the worst.
What if you wouldn’t survive whatever this was?
Once he got there and a doctor noticed what state you were in, they quickly took you from him to run some tests on you while someone asked him questions. Questions he didn’t really know the answer to. You seemed fine when you had gone to sleep, all he knew was that you had this terrible headache in the middle of the night.
They didn’t tell him anything apart from the info that they were doing some scans. He bought a coffee and sat in the waiting room, his mind in overdrive from the events of the past hour. And then that hour became two, and just when he was losing hope someone would finally tell him what the hell was happening, a doctor showed up and asked for your relative.
“I’m her boyfriend, what’s happening to her?” he replied when they asked him who he was.
“An aneurysm in her brain. Well, two, but only one ruptured. We will take her to the OR now and see what we can do,” the doctor explained. “It will take a long time, you might want to go home. We will call you once we know more.”
“I’d rather stay. And I’ll call her parents, I’m sure they would like to be here.”
The doctor nodded then left to focus on your surgery. This left Simon alone in the waiting room again with his face buried in his hands as he tried to fight back the tears. He had to be strong. He couldn’t fall apart. He was supposed to tell your parents that you were in there because of a damn aneurysm. He knew those things were deadly, but you were still alive, fighting.
After talking to your parents, he sent Price a message, telling him that there was no way he would leave your side for god knows how long. He was considering writing to Johnny too, but in the end he decided not to. The two of you were friends, he would be worried for sure. At least one of them had to stay sharp, especially if he happened to go on a mission before you got better.
What he wasn’t expecting was Price showing up a bit over an hour after he had sent the message. The Captain greeted him quickly then pulled him into a hug. Simon had no idea how badly he needed that, how much he craved physical contact at this point. It grounded him, made him focus on the present, not on the possible worst outcomes. Because his mind had been full of what ifs, like what if you died, what would he tell your parents and friends? It would mean he failed to do the one thing he promised to do–to protect you from harm.
“You’re spiraling, Simon,” Price said as they sat down.
The lieutenant nodded. “It’s hard to do anything else in this place. She’s been in surgery for two hours now, I don’t know how it’s going, her parents aren’t here yet. What will I tell them?”
With a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Price took a deep breath. “You wrote me it was an aneurysm. Those things can be hidden for decades. No one knew it was there, there’s no warning sign as far as I know, and let’s not forget that you brought her here in time. She’ll pull through, don’t worry,” he said.
They sat there in silence for quite a while, but it was the sort of comforting silence that Simon truly needed now. And then, just when he was about to go and ask someone if they knew anything, the doctor showed up again. “Mr. Riley? She is out of surgery for now. She will need a lot of rest here in the hospital, and it will take some time to see if there is any kind of brain damage. She is okay now, but I need you to understand that a lot of patients with this problem don’t survive for long. We will do everything we can, and it is a good thing you brought her in so soon after the first symptoms. I am… cautiously optimistic.”
“Thank you, doctor,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Can I see her?”
“Yes, a nurse will soon be here to take you to her, but you can’t stay for long.”
Price patted him on the shoulder after the doctor left. “She’s okay. She’s gonna be fine,” he said with a supportive smile.
Simon nodded. Yes, you were alive. And he would do whatever it took to help you recover.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost#john price#call of duty#modern warfare#mw2#mw3
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Marc Spector looking clueless (・ヘ・;)ゞ
MOON KNIGHT 2022
| EP03 THE FRIENDLY TYPE
#moon knight#marc spector#the friendly type#just casually walking around with bloody head#khonshu is really the unfriendly type#always keeping him in the dark#(╬ ⌣̀_⌣́)۶#yeap forgot to add the twos
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
#my post#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mwii
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No need to decide
Azriel/Cassian/Rhysand x Fem! Reader
Summary: This is porn without plot. You drink with your friends and it turns into something heated.
Word Count: 6700
Warnings: Smut, 18+! Fouresome, DP, Oral fem and male receiving, Deep Throating, Slight Shadow Play, Overstimulation
A/N: Well- this was fun to write. I have a lot of other stuff coming up the next days. Several WIP's and Requests :) Hope you enjoy this filthy piece of my imagination. I haven't proofread it yet and this might be a little straight forward lol...
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Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand fixate their eyes on you with an intense fire, their stances exuding a raw, untamed power. "We've been looking for you! We were worried sick when you didn’t return," Azriel strides towards you and gently grips your face. "Don’t ever disappear like that again. I thought I lost you."
"I'm sorry, Az..." you sigh, meeting their concerned gazes. All of you are still bloodied from battle, dried blood clinging to your skin. "How about we let the evening be like the good old days? Just drinking and relaxing?" You pat Azriel on the shoulder and give Cassian and Rhys a soft smile. They all nod in agreement, the tension in their shoulders easing, although concern still lingers in their eyes.
"That sounds like a great idea. Let's go to the council room, we have some good wine stored there. I'll just quickly head up to my room and clean up. You all should too, you reek," you chuckle as you walk past them, heading up the stairs to your room. After a quick bath and changing into a silk pajama set, you return downstairs to find the three already sitting in the sitting area.
"I can see you already started without me," you tease, and their gazes immediately shoot up to you. Cassian whistles lowly, admiring your appearance. "Damn, you look good enough to eat."
"We didn't start without you, just got here a bit early," Rhysand explains with a grin, leaning back into the chaise. "Only you, Y/N. Only you," he chuckles.
You join them, grabbing a bottle of wine and taking a swig straight from it, earning surprised yet amused looks from your friends. "Like good old times, right?" you beam, and Cassian agrees, grabbing a bottle for himself. "See! I know why I like Cassy best!" you tease, earning a chuckle from Azriel.
As you all engage in casual chatter and laughter, you start to feel the buzz of the alcohol. "I'm bored," you announce, leaning back and watching them lounging around the sitting room. "Can we play something?"
Azriel raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips. Cassian grins and sits up, finishing his bottle before responding, "Bored, Y/N? Let's play something like... Truth or Drink, perhaps?"
"Remember when we played Truth or Drink back in Rhys' cabin in Windhaven?" you reminisce with a smile, earning a snort from Rhysand. "Yes, we got bat shit drunk, and my mother was so angry at us for weeks because Cassian broke not only one but two doors," he chuckles, recalling the memory fondly.
Azriel's laughter joins the mix, his deep voice resonating in the room as he watches the playful exchange between you and Cassian. "Those were the days," he comments, his gaze nostalgic. He finishes his drink and sets the bottle aside, leaning forward with interest. "We could definitely play that again. Who wants to start?"
Sitting up straighter, full of energy, you announce, "I think I'd like that! Who wants to start?" Cassian, ever the instigator, leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Placing his empty bottle on the table, he pokes you in the side, then leans back, chuckling. "I'll start. Truth or dare, Y/N?"
Though momentarily confused, you quickly join in the fun. "I thought we were playing Truth or Drink? But I'm fine with this too!" Your grin broadens, accepting the challenge. "Dare!" The three friends share a look, each a bit surprised at your bold choice. Cassian pauses, evidently not expecting you to choose Dare. "Remember, if we don't want to do something, we have to drink!" you remind them, shooting Cassian a daring look. "Come on, Lord of Bloodshed, give me your worst." Cassian's surprise gives way to a hearty laugh. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, here's your dare: go outside and fly around the block. But here's the catch—you have to do it in your underwear."
Your eyes widen in mock horror. "I'm way too drunk to fly!" you exclaim, laughing and playfully swatting at his arm. "Give me something I can actually do!"
Cassian's laughter fills the room, his earlier mischief replaced with amusement at your reaction. "Alright, alright, let's keep it grounded. How about this then: you have to serenade us with the most embarrassing song you know, right here, right now."
Grinning broadly, you nod, accepting the modified challenge. "You asked for it," you warn, rising to your feet with a playful sway. As you clear your throat dramatically, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian lean back, each one wearing an expression of delighted anticipation. You launch into an off-key, dramatically overacted rendition of a notoriously silly love ballad, complete with exaggerated gestures and melodramatic expressions.
Laughter and cheers fill the room, the earlier tension dissolving into an evening of joyful camaraderie. Azriel watches you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting pride and affection, thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted side of you.
Now it was your turn to direct the game. You turned towards Rhys, who was already eyeing you with an amused, anticipatory smile. "Rhys, truth or dare?"
Rhys leaned back, his expression turning mischievously sly. "Dare."
You paused, a spark of mischief lighting up your own eyes. "Use your powers to show me one of your dirtiest dreams," you challenged, eager to see if he'd take on the dare or opt for a drink instead.
Rhys's eyes narrowed slightly, a grin unfurling across his face. He extended his hand to grasp yours, a ripple of power coursing through the contact. Suddenly, your vision blurred as he shared a vivid memory—his dream flooding your senses.
You gasped, your cheeks flushing as the explicit scene unfolded in your mind's eye. It was shockingly graphic, and you couldn't help but blush even deeper when Rhys's voice echoed in your thoughts.
Feeling his amusement, Rhys released your hand and leaned back, watching your flustered reaction with a chuckle. "Well, did I pass your dare or not?"
Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape. "I... I didn't expect that. I mean, it was definitely graphic," you managed to stammer out, still reeling from the intensity of the dream. You tried to lighten the mood with a tease. "If you're packing that much in reality and not just in your dreams, your mate is indeed fortunate."
Laughter erupted around the room, the tension breaking as Cassian and Azriel joined in the mirth. Rhys just smirked, pleased with your reaction.
"You're up, Rhys. Why don't you ask our dear Shadowsinger here?" you said, nudging the game along. Rhys turned to Azriel with a playful glint in his eye. "So, Az, truth or dare?"
Azriel's expression was unreadable for a moment before a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Dare," he responded confidently. Rhys's smile broadened. "I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room."
Azriel's eyebrows raised in mock surprise, then he turned to look directly at you. His smirk deepened. "Challenge accepted." He stood gracefully, crossed the room in a few strides, and sat down next to you. Leaning in close, he pressed a brief, soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a light chuckle. You blushed furiously, caught off guard by the sudden contact. "Your lips are very soft, Az," you murmured quietly, meant only for him to hear. Azriel's grin widened as he leaned in, his voice a whisper against your ear. "I could say the same for yours."
The room filled with chuckles and light-hearted banter. Cassian whistled, and Rhys laughed, clearly enjoying the turn of events. Now, it was Azriel's turn to steer the game. He looked at you with a playful challenge in his eyes. "Y/N, truth or dare?"
Considering the electric atmosphere and his intoxicating closeness, you replied with a hesitant, "Dare?" Azriel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I dare you to wrap your arms around me and pull me in for a kiss," he said, his voice low and enticing.
"What, again?" you asked, teasing him lightly. "Don't tell me you kissed me once and already can't get enough."
His chuckle was warm, filling the space between you. "Maybe I just enjoyed it?" Azriel's hands reached out, pulling you closer as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.
The kiss deepened, and you found yourself melting into him, the lines of friendship blurring into something more tender and profound. Cassian's playful voice broke through, adding a flirtatious edge to the night. "Truth or dare, Y/N?" he whispered, sitting close behind you now. You didn’t even hear him cross the room. As his hot breath Fans across the back of your neck, the rules of the game completely forgotton.
Caught between Azriel's lips and Cassian's whispered challenge, you managed a breathless, "Dare?"
Cassian's warm breath tickled your ear, his hands gently tracing circles on your waist. With a sly grin and a gaze full of mischief, he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I dare you to stand and strip off your shirt. Let's see what you're hiding under there."
Blushing deeply at his boldness and the intensity of the situation, you hesitated. "I...I'm not wearing anything underneath... this is just my sleepwear," you murmured, a mix of embarrassment and challenge in your voice. As you fumbled with the silk shirt, your wings awkwardly in the way and your movements clumsy from the alcohol, Azriel stepped in. Silently, he helped lift the fabric over your head with gentle ease.
As your shirt fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air, Cassian's gaze intensified, drinking in every detail of your newly revealed form. Rhys, no longer content to observe from a distance, rose from his seat and approached with a purposeful stride.
"Allow me," Rhys murmured, his voice a low caress as he reached out to steady you. His fingers brushed your chin, lifting your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender yet insistent kiss. Meanwhile, Cassian wasted no time in exploring the skin now bared before him. His fingers grazed your stomach, slowly making their way up to tease your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.
Caught in the sudden escalation, you gasped, your body responding despite your confusion. "What's happening?" you breathed out, your mind reeling as the game of truth or dare seemed to blur into something more intimate. "Weren't we playing a game?"
"Yes, but it seems we've all become quite..." Rhys paused, breaking the kiss, his voice thick with desire as he stepped back, allowing Azriel his turn. "distracted..." A devilish glint sparked in Rhys's eyes as he turned to Azriel, challenging him. "Truth or dare?" he asked, his tone laden with implications.
Azriel, his gaze fixed intensely on your exposed body, took a deep breath, his desire palpable. Without hesitation, he reached out, his hand cupping your breast, thumb teasing your nipple with deliberate strokes. "Dare," he breathed out, his voice rough.
Rhys smiled wickedly, stepping back to give Azriel space, his eyes alight with anticipation. The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air surrounding you. Rhys' eyes darkened as he observed the unfolding scene with predatory interest. "Azriel," he challenged with a smirk, "I dare you to make her climax."
At the daring proposition, your eyes—wide with desire—met Azriel's. His gaze, alight with raw lust, held yours as he leaned close, his breath searing against your ear. His fingers resumed their tantalizing dance across your nipples, pinching gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. "Ah, Azriel," you moaned, your gaze hooded, body arching towards his touch.
Cassian's chuckle vibrated against your neck as he pressed himself closer, his lips grazing your skin. "You're breathtaking," he whispered, his hands exploring downward to grip your hips, his hardness pressing insistently against you.
"What's happening?" you gasped, caught between them, your mind a whirl of sensation and confusion.
"You're not dreaming," Rhys assured with a soft laugh, his hands gliding down between your breasts. His lips captured yours in a deep, exploring kiss, his tongue mirroring the actions of his hands.
Lost in the kiss, you barely registered Azriel's hand slipping down the front of your pants. But his withdrawal, fingers glistening with your arousal, snapped you back to the present. "You're so wet for us, love." He pressed his wet fingers to your lips, and you sucked them clean, your eyes locked on his, wide and filled with lust.
The three shared a look of pure desire. Cassian's grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hard cock against your ass. "I want you so badly," he growled, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.
As the kiss deepened, Azriel's hands ventured lower, sliding your silk shorts down, leaving you bare before the trio of fully clothed Illyrians. His fingers resumed their work, now directly on your heated flesh, teasing your clit before plunging deep inside you. The sensation overwhelmed you, and your knees buckled. Cassian supported you, his strong arms wrapping around you as Azriel drove his fingers deeper, faster.
Rhys stepped closer, his hands caressing your breasts. "You're magnificent like this," he murmured. Overwhelmed by their touches, you managed to gasp out, "Need you," as waves of pleasure built within you, your gaze meeting Rhys violet eyes as you come on Azriels fingers with a scream. "Fuck, Azriel!" The Shadowsinger keeps his fingers working inside of you, bringing you close to another orgasm immediately. Shit, they were your undoing.
Cassian scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the chaise lounge. He laid you down, his body hovering over yours as he began a tantalizing trail of kisses down your body. "So you want to fuck all of us, hm?" he mused, his breath hot against your exposed skin.
"Yes," you breathed out, desperation lacing your voice. "I want all of you." As Cassian's mouth found your core, his tongue expertly coaxing pleasure from every stroke.
Azriel's hot breath tickled your ear as Rhysand tended to your nipples, groping and kneading your breasts. "You're dripping wet, love," Azriel murmured, his words sending shivers down your spine. With each passing moment, the anticipation grew, the air thick with raw desire.
Belts click and shuffle, as they freed their massive cocks, your eyes widened with a mixture of anticipation and arousal. "Fuck, you're huge," you gasped, your hands instinctively reaching out to wrap around Azriel's cock while your other hand flew around Rhys's.
Azriel groaned at your touch, his hips bucking into your hand as Rhys's attentions intensified on your nipple. "You're going to let us fuck your pretty cunt, aren't you?" Azriel's question hung in the air, met with your eager nod and a firm grip on their cocks. "Yes," you panted, your need echoing in the room. Cassian's growl reverberated against your core as he continued to feast on you. "Good girl," he praised, the vibrations sending you spiraling closer to the edge. "We're going to Fuck you and fill you up until you're screaming our names."
Your body arched, senses overwhelmed as another orgasm approached. "Fucking hell, Cass," you moaned, your hands working Azriel and Rhys with fervor. Azriel's groan mingled with your moans as he guided your mouth towards him. "I want to fuck your mouth," he confessed, his cock eagerly welcomed by your hungry lips. With hunger akin to a starving woman, you eagerly took him in, moaning at the taste of him. Azriel's praise spurred you on as you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head with abandon, focusing on driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
As Cassian continued his assault on your core, Rhys's attentions on your breasts intensified. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," Cassian growled, his tongue working magic on your clit. Your moans reverberated around Azriel's cock, driving him closer to the edge.
With each thrust into your mouth, Azriel's groans grew louder, his hips moving faster. "You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned, the sensation of your mouth driving him wild.
Gasping for breath, you released Azriel's cock as Cassian withdrew from your core. “You take me so well.” Azriel's praise sent a shiver down your spine, his whispered words igniting a fire within you. The primal desire in their eyes mirrored your own, and in that moment, there was no turning back. Many years of friendship, growing up together, winning battles and wars. And here you were, drunk on wine and lust as your three best friends ravished your body.
Cassian's impatience is palpable as he declares his inability to wait any longer. With a firm grip on your thighs, he hoists you up, swiftly discarding his pants to reveal his thick length. Settling back onto the couch, he leans against the backrest, anticipation evident in his eyes.
Your breath catches as he pulls you down onto him, your back molding against his chest as his cock glides through your soaked folds. A sharp yelp escapes your lips at the suddenness of the sensation, Cassian's grip on your hips only adding to the intensity. He throws his head back in ecstasy, a low groan rumbling from his throat as he lazily rubs your clit, causing you to squirm beneath him. Your wings flex against Cassian's chest, adding to the intoxicating intimacy of the moment. Rhys's appreciative gaze sweeps over you, his eyes dilated with desire as he takes in every detail. He leans forward with a feline smirk, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.
"What do you want, Darling?" Rhys's voice is low and daring, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief as they meet yours. He grunts at the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, evidence of how you had them wrapped around Azriel’s Cock just moments before. His admiration is evident as he takes in the streaks of tears and drool on your face.
"Gods, you look good like this," he murmurs before claiming your lips again, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor, licking into it, teeth clashing against each other in the heated kiss. As Cassian grinds against you, his cock teasing your slick cunt with every movement, you're unable to hold back your moans, each drag through your folds eliciting a desperate response that escapes into Rhys's mouth.
Suddenly, you feel something cold slither up your legs, sending shivers down your spine as it trails along your back like gentle caresses. Shadowy tendrils dance around your form, exploring every inch of your body with an eerie yet tantalizing touch.
Amidst the heated atmosphere, Azriel's voice cuts through with a dark allure. "My shadows are eager to explore your body too," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer. "They long to feel every curve, every inch of your skin, and indulge in the pleasure of the sounds you make." His words send a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. As Cassian's warm breath caresses your neck from behind, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, you feel a shiver run down your spine. "Tell me, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire, "have you ever been fucked in that pretty little ass of yours?"
A furious blush spreads across your cheeks at his bold question, rendering you momentarily speechless. Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nod in response, feeling the weight of their intense gazes fixed upon you, each one watching your every move.
"We need words, angel," Azriel adds, his touch sending electric pulses through your body as he drags a scarred thumb over your bottom lip. Almost instinctively, your tongue slips out, drawing his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it eagerly, eliciting a low groan from Azriel's lips.
"Yes, I've been fucked in my ass before," you admit, your voice hoarse from the earlier throat-fucking. "Good," Cassian hums in response, his cock dragging through your wetness, coating himself in your slick as he positions himself at your asshole. With gentle pressure, he begins to push into you, urging you to relax. Your eyes roll back, your head falling back onto Cassian's shoulder as you feel the stretch.
"Oh, fuck," you groan, the mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through you as Cassian gradually sinks deeper inside you, until he's fully sheathed. "Do you like having my cock up your ass?" Cassian grunts, starting to thrust into you, his movements deliberate and controlled.
"Yes!" you mewl, your pussy twitching and clenching around nothing, craving the sensation of being filled. "Need one of you in my cunt," you whimper, your pussy dripping with anticipation, yearning for attention. Azriel and Rhys exchange a glance, wordlessly communicating their next move. Azriel then positions himself in front of you, propping one leg onto the edge of the chaise lounge, his knees bent and angled as he aligns himself with your cunt.
Azriel thrusts into your drenched hole, his groans mingling with your gasps as you feel yourself being filled so thoroughly. Sandwiched between the two Illyrians, you're overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. "Fuck, you feel so good," Azriel moans, his movements becoming more urgent as he seeks out every inch of your warmth.
Cassian grunts into your ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet praises, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You're so tight, angel," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Fuck, you take me so well."
His words fuel your arousal, igniting a fire within you as he continues to thrust into you with increasing fervor. "You're amazing," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. "So fucking beautiful, taking both of us like a champ."
Rhys stands beside the chaise, his gaze fixated on the erotic tableau before him. With a hunger in his eyes, he positions himself next to you, his throbbing cock eagerly seeking entrance. "Open up for me, darling," he urges, his voice thick with desire as he guides his member between your parted lips. Your mouth, still slick from Azriel's earlier attentions, welcomes him eagerly, enveloping him in warmth. Rhys moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to thrust gently, setting a rhythm that matches the movements of Cassian and Azriel behind you.
His praise mingles with your moans. As Rhys plunges deeper into your mouth, his praises become a melodic chant, whispered between gasps of pleasure. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice a seductive melody against the backdrop of your moans. "Taking us all so eagerly, so willingly." His words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you as you eagerly suck him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length in a dance of desire.
"Such a good girl," Rhys continues, his breath hitching with each thrust. "You were made for this, made to be worshipped by us, to be pleasured in every way imaginable." His words fuel you, driving you to take him deeper, to please him as he plunges into your mouth. As Azriel and Cassian pick up their pace, the intensity of their thrusts sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each powerful thrust fills you up completely, hitting the deepest spots inside you, driving you closer to the edge of bliss.
Your body is flushed with arousal, a rosy hue spreading across your skin as your heart races with anticipation. With every thrust, your breasts bounce in rhythm. Beads of sweat form on your skin, glistening under the dim light of the room as the heat of passion consumes you. You mewl and grunt, lost in a haze of ecstasy as every coherent thought is driven from your mind. You're fucked so well, so thoroughly, that all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. As Rhys thrusts into your mouth, you eagerly meet his movements, sucking and licking with abandon. His cock fills your mouth, stretching you as you take him deeper, eager to please him as much as the others.
"You're such a good little whore for us, aren't you?" Cassian growls into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he pounds into you with primal urgency. Azriel's voice is low and husky as he murmurs, "That's it, take all of us. You were made for this, made to be filled up by us." Rhys's words are a seductive whisper against your skin as he thrusts into your mouth, "You're our perfect little plaything, made to satisfy our every desire."
Their words send shivers of pleasure down your spine, fueling the fire of ecstasy that burns within you. You moan around Rhys's cock, your body writhing with pleasure as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation of being taken by them all at once. As they continue to sweet-talk you, their words of adoration and desire fueling the intensity of your pleasure, they also begin to engage in conversation amongst themselves.
Cassian's voice is filled with lust and admiration as he murmurs, "Gods, she's so tight around me. Feels like heaven." Azriel grunts in agreement, his movements becoming more urgent as he drives deeper into you. "She's insatiable. I can feel her clenching around me." Rhys's voice is a low growl as he adds, "She loves it, doesn't she? Loves being taken by all of us at once." The three of them share a knowing glance, a silent communication passing between them as they continue their assault on your body.
As you come around Azriel's cock, your body convulses with pleasure, and you release Rhys's cock with a wet pop, moaning loudly in ecstasy. "Fuck! Gods, yes. More," you whimper, your voice dripping with desire as tears gather at the brim of your eyes once again.
Sensing your need for a change of scenery, Cassian and Azriel pull out of you, their movements synchronized as they lift you up, their strong arms cradling you bridal-style. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable," Cassian suggests, carrying you with ease as you pant heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms.
Rhys leads the way into his bedroom, the air heavy with anticipation as Cassian gently sets you down on the bed. "On all fours now," he instructs, his voice commanding yet tender as he helps you assume the desired position. "Now tell me, pretty girl," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Whose cock do you want?" You pause for a moment, your mind fogged with desire and need, before you answer with absolute certainty, "All of yours."
Their chuckles ripple through the room, a symphony of desire and amusement. "Yes, but where?" Cassian repeats, his voice laced with anticipation. You bite your lip, considering the question amidst the haze of arousal. "Everywhere," you finally breathe out. Cassian and Azriel exchange a knowing glance, their desire evident in the hunger of their gazes as they settle onto the bed in front of you. "I want all of you to cum inside of me," you declare, your voice dripping with need as you gaze at them with pleading eyes.
A primal hunger ignites within them at your words, their cocks throbbing with anticipation as they watch you with ravenous desire. Without a word, Cassian moves closer, his hands trailing down your spine as he leans in to press his lips against the nape of your neck. "You heard her, boys," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let's give her what she wants."
Rhys's gaze darkens with desire as he watches the scene unfold before him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he moves closer, his fingers trailing over your slick folds before he positions himself at your entrance, his cock twitching with anticipation. "Please," you whimper, your voice pleading as you arch your back, presenting yourself to them completely. "I need you." As Rhys positions himself behind you, his cock pressing eagerly against your dripping folds, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with desire. His hands grip your ass with a bruising force, pulling you closer to him as he aligns himself with your slick entrance.
With a low growl, Rhys thrusts into you, his cock filling you to the hilt as you moan in ecstasy. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your back arching and your hips instinctively grinding back against him. Meanwhile, Azriel and Cassian settle on the bed in front of you, their cocks standing proud and ready for your attention. With a hunger that matches your own, you eagerly take them into your mouth, sucking and licking with fervor as you alternate between the two. Azriel groans appreciatively as you take him deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as you eagerly work to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. Cassian's grip tightens on the sheets as you lavish attention on him, your mouth and tongue working wonders. When your mouth cannot please one of them, you work them with your hands.
Back with Rhys, his thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building the heat within you to an unbearable intensity. You're surrounded by the heady scent of sex and sweat, the sounds of your moans and the slick sounds of flesh against flesh filling the air as you're taken by all three of them at once. As Rhys's thrusts become even harsher and more powerful, you feel yourself being pushed to the brink of ecstasy. Each withdrawal is agonizingly slow, teasing you with the promise of his impending return, before he slams back into you with a force that sends shivers down your spine.
His moans fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your own pleasure as he drives you towards the edge. With each thrust, he curses under his breath, his voice thick with desire and need.
"Gods, your pretty little cunt is milking my cock so well," he growls, his brows pinched in pleasure as he snaps his hips into yours with even more force. "I'm gonna fill you up now, okay, darling?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.
You can only manage a breathless whimper of agreement as Rhys's powerful thrusts leave you gasping for air. His cock pistons into you with a relentless intensity, each movement driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy.
With a guttural groan, Rhys pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you, his movements becoming even more forceful and erratic. Your body responds instinctively, arching into his thrusts as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. With one final, powerful thrust, Rhys buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your waiting depths. The sensation of being filled by him pushes you over the edge, and you cry out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.
As the intensity of your climax fades, you collapse against the bed, panting heavily as you bask in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. Rhys remains buried deep inside you, his breathing ragged as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
"Would you mind if I go first?" Cassian's voice is husky with desire as he glances at Azriel, who returns his gaze with a heated intensity. "Go ahead," Azriel grunts in response, his own desire palpable in the air.
With a silent understanding passing between them, Cassian switches places with Rhys, who withdraws from you only to be replaced by Cassian's throbbing length. Unlike Rhys's powerful thrusts, Cassian's movements are more deliberate, more controlled. He grinds into you, his cock buried deep within your slick folds, maintaining a constant pressure that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the tension in Cassian's body, the urgency in his breath as he nears his own climax. But despite his impending release, he keeps his movements steady, his focus solely on pleasuring you.
And oh, how you revel in it. You love being their plaything, their vessel for pleasure. Your gaze meets Azriel's, and in his hazel eyes, you see a reflection of your own desire, a mirror image of the passion burning within you. As Azriel strokes your hair with a tenderness that belies the raw desire between you, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each grinding motion, Cassian's cock delves deeper into your quivering core, eliciting a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. His breath becomes ragged, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, as he nears the edge of release. "Oh, fuck," Cassian groans, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight." As his pace quickens, the tension in Cassian's body becomes almost unbearable. And then, with a guttural cry of ecstasy, Cassian finally succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. Hot strings of seed spill from his throbbing cock, filling you to the brim as he empties himself inside you. "Fuck, yes," Cassian pants, his voice raw with passion. "Take it all, darling. Take every last drop."
As your body succumbs to exhaustion, collapsing onto the mattress, you feel utterly spent, your legs trembling with the remnants of pleasure. Rhys and Cassian share a knowing smirk and a low, rumbling laugh, their eyes alight with satisfaction.
"How about you run her a bath and get some food while I take care of her," Azriel suggests, his voice a soothing balm amidst the haze of pleasure that envelops you. With gentle hands, he helps you turn onto your back again, his touch as soft as a whisper against your skin.
You sink into the mattress, utterly relaxed under Azriel's tender ministrations, your body humming with satisfaction. The warmth of his touch soothes the ache in your muscles, easing away the tension that had coiled within you.
"Thank you," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs, a sense of contentment washes over you, wrapping you in its comforting embrace. Azriel smiles down at you, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you" he whispers, his words a promise of devotion that sends a flutter of butterflies dancing in your stomach. As Azriel leans over you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice rasps with desire. "I still need to fuck your pretty little cunt one more time, angel," he murmurs, his tone husky with anticipation. With heavy-lidded eyes, you nod, your gaze glazed with the remnants of pleasure.
He moves in front of you, his eyes tracing the halo of your hair spread out like a soft cloud on the mattress, your wings unfurled, a testament to your ethereal beauty. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers, his voice laced with reverence as he gently folds your legs up to your chest, hovering over you with a predatory grace.
"I won't be gentle," he warns, his voice dripping with promise as he plunges into your sensitive pussy. A scream tears from your throat as Azriel's cock, long and thick, fills you completely. There's a certain correlation between the expanse of his wingspan and the size of other parts of his anatomy, and you feel every inch of him stretching you to your limits.
His pace is relentless, unforgiving, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside of you that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. He moves fast, brutal in his assault on your senses, leaving you no choice but to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. You moan loudly, wildly, unable to control the spasms wracking your body as Azriel's relentless rhythm drives you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He grins down at you, a feral gleam in his eyes as he growls under his breath, "Look at you, completely drunk on my cock." His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, mingling with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he confesses.
As Azriel's gaze wanders to your wings, his own unfurling behind him with a mesmerizing display of power, he traces a finger over the delicate membrane of your right wing. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and you immediately clench around him, your walls squeezing around his cock in a deliciously tight grip.
Azriel's satisfaction is evident in the grin that tugs at his lips, a mixture of pride and arousal evident in the way he huffs with each powerful thrust into you. "One more time. Give me one more," he coaxes, his voice a seductive whisper that belies the feral look in his eyes.
As he continues to pound into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, he keeps softly brushing his fingertips over your wings, exploring the soft tissue and tracing the contours of the delicate bones. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.
Gasping for air, your toes curl as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you entirely. In a tantalizing twist, a shadowy cool tendril finds its way to your clit, adding another layer of sensation to the already intense experience. As Azriel ruts harder, his movements becoming more unsteady and desperate, you feel the tension building within you, every snap of his hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars.
And then, it happens. You come together, your bodies trembling in sync as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you. Azriel's hips stutter, his movements growing erratic as he shoots his ropes of hot cum deep inside of you, filling you up with his essence.
When he pulls out, a mixture of their combined cum drips from your well-used pussy. Azriel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of your fucked-out cunt, leaking with their combined release.
"Fuck, so pretty with our cum all over your pussy, mhm?" he breathes heavily, his fingers gathering some of the spilled cum before pushing it back inside of your throbbing cunt. You moan at the overstimulating sensation, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.
"We wouldn't want to waste anything now, would we?" he murmurs, leaning over to brush a soft kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. Your body continues to shake as you try to come down from the intoxicating high.
Rhys returns with a tablet full of food, setting it down beside the bed as Azriel picks you up, cradling you in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom where Cassian had prepared a warm bath. The steam rises, enveloping you in its comforting embrace as Azriel gently sets you down into the tub. "You'll bathe," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with tenderness, "then we'll eat, rest for some time, and then..." He pauses, his gaze intense as he meets yours. "Then we'll fuck you until the sun comes up."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through your veins. You nod eagerly, your body still humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure. The promise of more to come ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach as you soak in the warm water, letting it soothe your weary muscles.
As you lean back, closing your eyes and reveling in the sensation of warmth surrounding you, you can't help but smile at the thought of what lies ahead.
☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
#smut#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#x reader#azriel smut#cassian smut#rhysand smut#rhys smut#polybatboys#bat boys#bat boys x reader#reader insert#azriel spymaster#azriel#cassian x reader#cassian#rhys x reader#rhysand
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Bayverse TmnT X Thankful Reader; HC’s
Anon Request, "Can I ask for Bayverse Turtles reacting to GN reader who thanks them for saving them instead of being scared of them?"
~xXx~
Michelangelo:
Dudes pretty stoked when it hits him that you’re not running away screaming your head off after he’s saved you from some drunks
He’s really excited and almost loses himself to it, grabbing your hands and cheerfully introducing himself
Probs throws out some kind of pun or pick up line about how this must mean something, and for a moment almost really feels that when you giggle at his shenanigans
A human who thanked him with no shred of fear and thinks he’s funny?! Someone pinch him because there’s no way this isn't a dream
Would slip you his number before dashing off to the calls of his brothers, winking back as he waved goodbye, already picturing you as a new friend
Donatello:
Freaked out at first when he sees you still hanging around after he fought off a thug who tried to rob you, but that shock is quickly replaced with curiosity as you breathlessly thank him
He wonders if this is some other form of distress on your part and does a quick check up to make sure you didn’t hit your head or something
Is even more surprised when it turns out you’re perfectly fine, and you don’t shy away from his touch, a large hand still gently holding you by the shoulder
Donnie’s quick to pull away when he realizes, fumbling with his words for a moment and the soft smile you offer is not helping the warmth dusting his cheeks
The shout from his brothers for him is what saves him from further embarrassment, but as he turns to leave and sees you still standing, watching him go, he can’t help the growing intrigue he now has for you
Raphael:
You’re not running in terror, screaming bloody murder, and Raph isn’t sure how to feel
He just stands and stares absolutely bewildered as you offer him a kind thank you after saving you from random aggressors
He’s quick to catch your hand as it lifts towards his face, more shock coursing through him when he sees the rag in your grasp to clean at a cut on his face
Your fearlessness towards him is impressive, but he can’t help the internal panic
Yes there’s a joyful elation Raph feels, but this is all new territory to him
Sure, he has human friends like April, but even she freaked when she first met him
Not you though, and as he runs off to catch up with his brothers, he finds himself unable to stop thinking of this memorable encounter
Leonardo:
Leo is stunned by your kind thank you versus the usual display of fear he receives, there’s a reason he tried to be super stealthy after all
He’ll actually ask if you’re not scared of him, sounding casual about it but feeling the exact opposite
You’re denying response gives him a sense of relief and curiosity, but also apprehension
Are you trying to trick him? Are you secretly part of the Foot Clan?
He can’t help his skepticism towards your kindness, as the leader he’s sort of built this wall against newer people to protect his family
He’ll eye you for a moment, asking if you’re okay to walk home by yourself, and after he’s sure you are truly fine, he’ll be quick to make his leave
It’s sudden and abrupt and while a small part of him feels kind of rude about suddenly dipping, he’s too busy fighting an inner battle about how his whole existence is to stay hidden, and this new desire to be sought by you
Definitely doesn’t tell his brothers about this meeting, last thing Leo needs is for them to encourage the warm hope you’ve instilled within him
~xXx~
#bayverse mikey x reader#bayverse michelangelo x reader#bayverse donnie x reader#bayverse donatello x reader#bayverse raph x reader#bayverse raphael x reader#bayverse leo x reader#bayverse leonardo x reader#bayverse tmnt x reader#bayverse tmnt#aged up tmnt#anon request#imababblekat's writing
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Protecting You
Your life, or safety, is threatened in front of one of the COD guys. How do they react to that?
Female reader perspective
Warning: Unwanted advances, assault, roofie, torture, abusive ex
I noted each blurb for what would be featured for each person. Please make sure you check that before you read it.
Alex Unwanted Advances
"I'm fine really," you mutter as the man next to you at the bar insists on buying you another drink. You had turned him down twice now, sipping lightly on the still half-full glass you had.
"Come on, just one drink and if you think I'm that bad I'll leave you alone," he prods, waving the bartender over.
"Or you could leave me alone now," you tack on, looking over your shoulder for someone, anyone, to rescue you.
"Two of whatever she's having," the guy orders over your protests to the bartender to not make you one. The bartender doesn't catch it though, too busy helping the crowded bar and the music a little too loud to really hear.
"See not so bad," the guy grins before reaching out to grab at your hand which you quickly snatch away. "Oh come on, I'm not going to hurt you," he teases and reaches again.
"I believe she said she wasn't interested," a cool voice says from behind you. Looking over your shoulder you see another man on your left, leaning lightly on the bar glaring at the man next to you. He looks simple enough. About your age in a casual shirt and jeans but something behind his easy smile reeks of predator. Not for you though, but for the man who won't leave you be.
"It's none of your business," the guy snaps trying to literally grab your attention again by grabbing at your arm. "We're perfectly fine."
That's all it took. In the midst of you twisting away and telling the guy to just stop the man intervenes. He grabs your harassers wrist with lethal speed and twists it hard so his whole upper body contorts with the movement into the bar.
The glass from the drink your rescuer had just finished coming down to slam on the man's fingers. Hard enough that the glass shatters and the guy shrieks in pain as the stranger continues to hold the grip right on a pressure point.
"This should teach you to keep your hands to yourself," the man states, sliding his hand away to wipe on the small drink napkin. His movement so casual as if this were normal for him.
"Are you fucking crazy!" The guy yells dragging his arm back and staring at the bloody sticky mess of his hand. The glass shards had nicked a few of his fingers and he was screaming about how he would fuck you and this man up. Meanwhile the bartender was summoning the bar security not wanting a full on brawl to start and before you knew it all three of you were tossed out.
"Sorry about that," comes your rescuers voice as you both watch the other man head down the street with a few of his friends. "I couldn't sit there and listen anymore. I didn't mean for you to get kicked out into the cold," he grins a bit, then shivers as the wind rips right through both of you.
"No need to be sorry," you answer simply looking at him. "You didn't have to do that you know. But thank you..." you pause for an invitation for him to give you his name.
"Alex," he says with a small smile. "And no need to thank me. I wasn't going to just sit there and let him continue to hound you."
"Alex," you say with a nod trying to commit the name to memory. You doubted you would forget it though.
"Is your car around here?" Alex asks suddenly staring across the street. The men had stopped at the street corner and were watching the two of you.
"Ah, I walked from work," you answer. "I don't live too far," you tack on following his gaze to the men. "I'm sure it'll be fine..."
"I'll walk you home," Alex says after a second. "Or get you a taxi. I don't want you out here alone with them." He turns to look at you giving a small smile as you look up at him. "I promise I'm not a creep," he laughs a bit.
"We....we can walk," you venture after a second. "I feel like I owe you a drink after all that anyway. I think I've still got some left over tequila in the back of my cabinet." You aren't sure exactly why but you feel like you can trust him. "And if I thought you were a creep I'd be gone by now."
"You don't owe me anything," Alex says with a laugh before gesturing you to walk before shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes sliding over to the men across the street to keep them always in his view as you go. "But I wouldn't turn down a nightcap, though tequila can be dangerous." He winks as you both hustle to cross the street.
Yes it can be, you silently agree with a small thrill.
Gaz Assault
Maybe staying to watch one more episode was a bad idea. You really should have let your friend drive you home but you lived all the way across town and the train would be there soon enough. So tucking your purse tight against your side you head toward the train station. It's dark out, darker than normal since it's a new moon, and the shadows seem extra long as you hurry down the street.
When you round the corner to the alley you'd normally take as a short cut you spot a group of people halfway down it The alley cut five minutes off the walk and was usually fine by day, just dirty. But at night it was ominous and the people standing on the end blended a little too well into the dark. You debated on what to do before deciding to just walk through. You knew the area, knew how to handle yourself and it was cold.
Just as you pass you realize it's a group of about four men and the minute they realize you are alone it starts. The catcalls, the jeers, the simple 'where you going sweetheart?' questions. You've heard them all before and the best thing to do is ignore it and keep walking. But they follow. You mutter a no thanks, you're fine and every other placating thing you know to do. But it doesn't let up.
Just as you're about to clear the alley a hand juts out to grab you by the back of your jacket and you scream. They've dragged you back and are taunting you about being rude and they just wanted to talk. Your reactions a bit slow thanks to the wine you had drunk but you shove them back and one hit on a man's chest lands hard enough that a guy goes flying backward. You blink trying to figure out how you managed that until you realize someone else had shown up.
In a series of grunts and groans the men are swiftly dealt with. One having to be hoisted up by his friends before they all jog out of the alleyway. You have your back pressed up against the wall as your savior turns to look at you and you flinch a bit not sure what they want. If he was able to take on four guys on his own who knew what else he could do.
"You alright?" The man asks as he straightens his jacket and looks to where the attackers disappeared to.
"Yes, I think so," you stammer out as you wipe at your face not realizing you've been crying. "Thank you, where did you even come from?" You ask looking around to spot a door open and now that you aren't screaming you can hear music coming from it.
"I was headed out for a smoke when I heard you," the man answers. "I'm inside with a few friends. Do you want to come in and join us? Get warmed up a bit, it's freezing out here," he gives you a soft smile as you continue to press your back against the wall.
"I was on my way to the train station," you start but the warm yellow light of the restaurant seems to be beckoning you. Walking the rest of the way to the train station seemed like a monumental task now and you were afraid to be alone.
"I take the train myself," he answers. "Come in for a bit and we can go together, yeah?" He gestures for the door where another man has poked his head out to see where his friend had gone missing.
"I, ah," you hesitate for just a second longer. "Sure alright," you finish as the man in the doorway looks between the two of you.
"Everything alright out here Gaz?" The guy asks, his Scottish accent strong, as he takes in the scene.
"All good," Gaz answers as he follows you to the door. "Just dealing with a little issue," he explains and in the light of the door you can see his knuckles are bloody as he gestures you inside.
"A little issue?" You almost squeak as he grabs a few napkins from the bar top and wipes his hands down. "You took on four men...for a stranger."
"I wasn't going to just leave you out there," Gaz replies with a small smile. "Besides, that was barely a warm up," he winks and pulls a chair out for you to join his group of friends who are all watching your curiously.
Ghost Roofie
You've had way too much to drink. It was a celebration party for your friends recent job promotion and it was so rare you let your hair down you decided to go all out. It had been a bar crawl, wandering from one loud crowded place to the next. By the time you got to the fourth place (maybe it was the fifth place?) you were stumbling a bit.
Giving the bouncer your ID you swayed a bit in your spot while he looked it over with his flashlight and eyed you. After a second he nodded to let you in and you slipped inside. This place was packed, people jammed up against one another as the music blared and by the time you finished your latest drink you were feeling light headed and most of your body was numb.
"Careful," a voice says next to you as you sidestep and nearly fall. Hands had caught you around the waist and you look up at the man who was grinning at you. Who was he? Fuck where had your friends gotten off to? "I think you may need to sit for a minute," he suggests taking the empty glass from your tingling fingers and you nod. Yes, sitting would be good.
"I just need to find my friends," you say as you look around the place but it's just a swarm of bodies, their faces all a blur. "Let me just," you start reaching for your phone.
"Let's get you outside where it's cooler then you can call them," the guy says, his arm still tight around you. "You're very flushed," he gives you a sweet smile and you nod again. You really did feel overheated, maybe that's why you felt so dizzy and uncoordinated.
You let the guy guide you toward the door before a hand shoots out of nowhere blocking the exit to the alley. You blink once, twice, swaying a bit as the guy helping you walk halts. This second man is huge, impossibly huge, as he holds his ground glaring at the two of you. It takes a second to register then you realize exactly who it is. You hadn't seen him in a while and your brain was so muddled the connection almost didn't click.
"Simon?" You ask, laughing a bit at the odds of him being here of all places. "When did you get back into town? Where's Johnny?" You inquire looking over your shoulder expecting to see your friend standing there. You giggle a bit as you lose your footing again but Simon's hand catches your bicep.
"I know what you fucking did," Simon says and you splutter. You hadn't done anything, what was his problem? Then you realize he isn't talking to you, he's talking to the guy that was attempting to lead you outside. "And so do the bouncers," he nods his head at the guy that had been working the door pushes through the crowd toward you all. "You're lucky there are too many witnesses or I'd snap your goddamn neck," Simon breathes as he pulls you toward him as the guy lets you go finally. The malice in his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you try to figure out why Simon was so mad.
"Let's go, love," Simon says after a second pushing the door open to the alley as the bouncer grabs the guy you were with. "I'm going to take you home," he explains as he sees you staring at him confused. "With me," he adds after a second as you continue walking, "you shouldn't be alone right now."
What did that even mean? You'd recovered from hangovers just fine in the past. Sure, they were miserable and you laid on the bathroom floor for hours but you were very much capable of paying for your poor decisions. You don't have a chance to question though as your surroundings start to spin. You groan a bit beginning to feel sick, the fun of being drunk was rapidly fading and was instead replaced by a sickening unease.
Time and memory seemed to warp and next thing you know Simon is tucking you gently into the passenger seat of his car. He's already got the engine running and cool air is blasting on you helping to dissipate some of nausea. It takes you a second to realize his hands are holding your face up to stare at him. His face his a hard mask as he assesses you and you feel him reach for your pulse, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. He's not happy with what he finds based on his reaction.
"Simon?" You ask a bit pathetically as your hands reach for him to grip his shirt. You know something is definitely not right and now the fear is settling in. Your lip trembles as you try to lock in your focus but everything feels like it's slipping away like holding water in your hands.
"I've got you," he answers, not flinching as you grasp at him. "You're safe with me," he assures you as his hand pushes your hair off your face where it had begun to stick to the sweat there.
"I know," you reply even though you barely knew him. You'd only met him a few times when Johnny brought him back on his leaves. You had been intrigued by him but he always stayed an arms length away. Friendly but closed off. Johnny said that's just how he was when you asked, though you caught the mischievous look he gave you when you asked about Simon a few more times.
"How did you..." you mumble, your fingers twisting up the fabric on his chest to hold on tight. You were afraid if you let go you'd just fall into the nothingness that was threatening to take you under.
"Johnny told me you were going out with friends tonight. I wanted to see you again," he ventures knowing you won't remember all of this in the morning. "I lost track of you in that stupid bar and by the time I found you again," he pauses to keep his temper in check, loosing a calming breath. "I should have said something sooner to you. Not let you be alone."
"I wanted to see you too," you let slip before shutting your eyes as the drugs finally took you under.
Price Torture
The mission had gone absolutely sideways. What should have been a relatively simple extraction turned out to be an ambush and you had lost two team members. They had opted to take you captive instead of killing you, hoping to get information out of you.
Four days of psychological torture. No sleeping, every time you tried they'd wake you up with loud noises after only twenty minutes. Only enough food to keep you from passing out and barely any water. The room they held you in was freezing and wet, no bed and a bucket for waste.
Perhaps the worst part though was the absolute silence. There was no noise aside from the damned dripping pipe that kept your room damp. You couldn't hear planes, cars or even a bird. The only way you knew time had passed was watching the shadows move across the wall from the small slit of a window a few feet up the wall.
You were supposed to check in with Price, he was the rendezvous drop off for your target. So, despite your team being dead, there was someone out there that knew you were missing. That was the only thing that kept you hopeful for a way out.
On day five the leader of the group enters your cell with an ominous look on his face. You don't back down as he grabs your shackled wrists and slams you down on the chair he's brought in. You twist and fight as one of his men ties you down earning a sharp slap across the face.
"Tell us about John Price," the man demands as he squats down to get in your face.
"I," you pause confused, "what?" This was not what you were expecting to be questioned about. "What about John Price? What does he have to do with me?' You question feeling your heartbeat kick up a bit.
"You were meeting him, tell us," the man demands as he fishes a lethal looking knife from his pocket and flicks it open. "Tell us and I'll make it quick," he smirks as he traces the knife slowly down your arm with just enough pressure to make a small stream of blood appear in it's wake.
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," you answer still a bit perplexed. "He's a man? He's a Captain?" Another resounding slap snaps your head sideways and you taste blood as you work your jaw before sitting back up again. "You need to ask better questions because I don't know what you want." You have an idea what they may want but there was no way they were getting anything out of you.
"Funny," the man says as he grabs your jaw to shake your face and pulls your focus back on him. "Tell us why he was involved in your extraction."
You don't give it up though. The men continue to abuse you, cutting at your skin, battering your face and nearly suffocating you with their hands only to bring you back right when you are about to pass out. It hurts to blink and you spit out a mess of drool and blood when they finally relent for now. The shadows on the wall are long so you know they had been at it for hours.
They leave you tied to the chair and you tilt forward trying to get some sleep. You were hoping they were occupied trying to decipher your run around answers to not notice you were taking a nap. Your sleep is deep but it doesn't last long as a hand lifts your head back up from where it was lolled against your shoulder. You jolt up in the dark and flinch back from the touch.
"It's me," a man says as you blink in the dark groaning a bit. "It's John," the familiar deep gravel of a voice clicks into place and you unclench the fists you had made unconsciously.
"John?" You splutter out trying to look around the room. It's too dark for you to see anything, the stark opposite of how they usually kept it in their methods of keeping you awake. "How'd you know where I was? " You pause realizing you also had no idea where you were. "Where am I exactly?"
"They picked a shit location to try and hide you," he says with a small chuckle as the tip of metal knife slides around your wrists to cut the bonds away. "Abandoned oil field, too open and easy to gain access," he says as he bends down to undo your feet. "Team's got the guards at the gates occupied for a few more minutes," he says before you hear the rustle of him putting the knife away. "Can you walk?"
"I think so?" You mutter as your hand reaches up to touch your puffy eye before you flinch at how tender it is. "They mostly focused on my face, don't need that for walking." You try an attempt to joke but based on Price's silence it falls flat. You can feel the anger roiling off him, though his touch is soft as he surveys the rest of your body for injuries. His fingers brush over the tender skin of your throat and you know it has to be black and blue with how rough they had been.
"How many are there left?" You ask as you rally your strength to stand up, you'd be no help in a fight right now. If you were quick maybe you could sneak out without anyone being the wiser.
"None left in this building," Price says as he gently grabs you under the armpits to help you stand. You look at him shocked, there were at least ten of them that you knew of. Once you're fully standing you grab his clothed forearms to steady yourself. You can feel something warm and wet on your fingertips, without seeing it you know it's blood. "Hunted the whole crew down before I came to find you. Amazing what a halligan can do to some skulls," he says darkly.
"Alone?" You ask as Price tucks one of your hands into the strap of his vest so he can guide you. You can hear him raise his gun as he moves out of the room. The thought of him taking on the men that killed your team by himself sends a jolt of fear down your spine. The risk alone was too great, especially since they were hunting him specifically.
"I do know how to take care myself," Price answers though there is a hint of amusement in his voice. "Couldn't wait on the team to catch up. I wasn't going to leave you in here another minute with them, love."
Soap Abusive Ex
"Get out!" You yell as your ex storms into the apartment from where he had hidden waiting for you to open the door to get a delivery. He's ranting and raving about indiscretions you made against him. How you screwed him over and were the reason he was failing at everything in his life. Everything was your fault, it was always your fault, and he was here to finally put a stop to ruining things for him.
The text to Soap had been quick, a subtle message sent with just two words. Help me. You didn't bother reaching out to the authorities, they never helped. Always saying there was nothing they could do despite the fact your ex had been escalating. First it was simple calling and texting nonstop. Then the letters shoved under your front door. Moving onto showing up at your job so security had to escort him out. Now this.
"What is this?" Your ex asks as he pulls a hooded sweater from underneath the blanket on the couch. Soap had stayed over nights when you had been afraid to be alone, sleeping on the couch. It was innocent, mostly, because you were too afraid to try and move on. Not that it mattered if it wasn't, you and your ex had been over for months. "Who's is this?" He advances on you.
"It doesn't matter," you answer backing up against the dining room table. "You need to get out of my house right now," you argue looking over his shoulder.
"It's his isn't it?" He shakes the hoodie at your face as he gets uncomfortably close. "That fucking Scot that I told you to stop talking to," he shoves you.
"What does it matter?" You fight back before gasping at the shove, the table biting into your lower back. He pushes you again before shoving you bodily to the floor to hover over you. "Please, just get out," you say as you try to back peddle on your hands to put some space between you and him.
"I'm not going anywhere," he snarls and moves to grab you by the hair when the front door bangs open. Five minutes. Soap got to you in five minutes. You weren't sure how he was able to get there in that short amount of time but you don't question it.
Your ex paused to look over his shoulder at the noise and that was enough time for Soap to clear the living room and grab him. He's hoisted up and back by the collar of his shirt and bodily tossed away from you. Soap moves to stand between you and him. A silent form of protection as he looks at the man who's on his ass staring at Soap with murder in his eyes.
"I wouldn't try it," Soap warns the guy with a small smirk as your ex stands back up and forms his hands into fists. "I've been waiting for fucking weeks to do this. It's only because of her you haven't had your ass handed to you before now."
You've stood up now, rubbing absently at your back as you keep your distance behind Soap. You're terrified as Soap cocks his head to the side assess the situation. It's not fear for Soap's safety, you know he can handle himself, but because of everything that just happened. Your ex doesn't take the warning and lunges for Soap.
It's over in a matter of seconds. Soap has him pinned on the ground with his knee in your ex's neck. Your ex is spluttering on the carpet with a bloody lip and busted nose, his free hand scrambling for purchase while Soap twists the other one behind him.
"I'm sorry, I can't fucking hear you," Soap hisses as he bends his head down closer to your ex's face. Your ex is actually squealing with pain as Soap twists his arm further back. If it goes any more you know the shoulder will pop out of the socket and you wince. This isn't exactly what you wanted, at least on a surface level. Yet you knew deep down calling Soap to help would somehow end in your ex receiving some sort of a beat down. Soap had been threatening it for some time now.
"I'm sorry! I'll go!" Your ex finally yells out before groaning as Soap gives his arm one last good yank before letting go and standing up.
"Get the fuck out," Soap says as he stands and moves to put himself between you and your ex again just to be safe. "And leave her alone. If I hear you keep coming round it won't be just me you'll have to deal with."
Your ex leaves with a slam of the door, muttering empty threats about calling the police. In the ringing silence you feel your knees buckle and you grab the table as you start to sob. It had all been so overwhelming and terrifying you don't know another way to process everything.
"Shh, lass," Soap says quietly, his tone turning into the soft gentle one that you knew. The aggressive Soap you had just witnessed was something he hadn't shown you. Sure you heard stories but seeing it live was a whole other story. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he says as he gently coaxes you into his arms and plants a kiss on the top of your head.
"Can you stay?" You ask after long minutes of silence as Soap rubs your back, still holding you. "I don't want...if he comes back," you mumble, the anxiety dreaming up different scenarios of him escalating it.
"Of course," he answers, "couch sort of has my name on it anyhow." He chuckles a bit spotting his sweatshirt there then realizes that's probably what set your ex off in a tirade. He had forgotten it that morning.
"Stay with me," you say after a second, letting him fill in that blank of what exactly you were requesting. "I don't want to be alone," you tack on in explanation as Soap raises his eyebrows.
It had been going this way for a while now but your fear of your ex had always put a stop to it. You'd been afraid of how he'd react and what he would do if he found out. Soap remained ever patient and understanding through it all and after tonight you were tired of waiting.
"Whatever you want lass," Soap answers but you can feel him smiling as he presses another kiss to your temple.
#call of duty#cod#call of duty fanfic#my fic#fanfic#fanfiction#cod fanfic#cod drabble#random musings#cod alex#cod gaz#cod ghost#cod john price#cod soap#alex keller x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#soap x reader#tf 141 x reader#18+ only
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date - simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader
a/n: you have no idea how much I LOVE medic!reader so this is my spin on it 🕺🕺🕺 and like private but not secret relationship with simon holy shit I live for that shit
desc: poor guy unknowingly hitting on the lieutenant’s lovely wife
warnings: descriptions of wound/gash, slight foul language
You were nose deep in your paperwork when the doors to your office opened, making you whip your head to look at the intrusion. You body relaxed at the sight of Ghost and Soap, casually walking to your desk. Tilting your head a bit, not noticing that either of them were injured so it confused you why they were visiting the medbay.
“Is everything alright?” You asked, looking up from your seated position to look at your behemoth of a husband. “Yeah. Jus’ wanted to see you.” He said softly, palms on the desk and slightly leaning over it. “And what’s Soap doing here?” You tilted your head to see the man behind the lieutenant, busy with his phone. Ghost crossed his arms and you could feel his annoyance radiating off his stance from the corner of your eye.
“Aye, doc.” Soap greeted you as he lifted his gaze from his phone. “I’m just tagging along, got some questions to ask L.t.”
“Should’ve asked during the damn briefing.” He said, tilted his head a bit to glare at the sergeant. You knew how much your husband hated it when people interrupt the times you guys were together, since the chance to spend time with just you were rare in the chaos that happened everyday in the base. Sometimes you were confused if he was annoyed or jealoused.
“I forgot, alright..” Soap pursed his lips and scooted away a bit, to give you and Ghost some privacy. Not a lot of people knew about your marriage with Ghost, but they know you were married by the beautiful ring on your ring finger. Only the task force knew and over time, they learned the silent queues to give the both of you some space and you were incredibly grateful for that.
Ghost placed his left palm on the table and leaned in slightly, eyes laser focused on your face. “What is it, Si?” Your tone was heavy with exhaustion as Ghost looked down at you, and you could see his eyebrows furrowed a bit under the balaclava he wore.
“Your shift ends in a bit, right?” He brought a hand to gently cup your jaw. You nodded. “I want to take you out for dinner. You need a break, love.” He said, voice hushed as he took in your tired eyes. There was a moment of silence as you lowered you gaze to the papers on your table, before looking back at him.
“Is Soap coming along too?” You teased, fighting a smile. “God no.” He replied right after the words left your mouth. You laughed before continuing, “It’s a date then.” A grin formed on your lips. “It is.” You felt his warm lips over the mask as he kissed your forehead, before joining Soap to sit in one of the empty patient rooms to wait for you. The door to the room was open, so you could hear a faint conversation and Soap’s laugh while you continued your paperwork.
Not five minutes later, the doors to the medbay opened again and a soldier walked in, clutching his hand. You looked up from the paperwork and your eyes widened slightly at the blood on his hands. “What happened?” You immediately stood up and walked over to him, guiding him to sit in an empty room right beside your husband’s.
“Accidentally cut my hand open while working in the garage. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You were sitting in front of him, his palm in your hands as you carefully inspect the gash. Your eyebrows furrowed at how calm and nonchalant his tone was, so you looked up from his palm to see he was slightly smiling at you.
“You look oddly happy for a person with a bloody hand.” You quipped before turning around, collecting a few items from the cabinet behind where you sat. The man looked down and laughed, and you could hear how- bashful it sounded. “I feel fine, doc. Like I said, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” He replied, and you can hear a hint of smug in his voice.
You playfully shook your head at him as you sat back down. The fact that he wasn’t brooding over the injury really calmed the tension, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit off. “Thankfully the cut wasn’t that deep, so you don’t need stitches. A few bandages will do.” He nodded, but you felt his gaze on you.
You shifted in your seat, ripping open an antiseptic wipe to clean the wound. “This is going to sting a bit.” You said as you held the wipe.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” The way he tried to sound cool had you cringing. The second you place down the wipe on the wound, you heard a faint hiss and you let out a huff that resembled a laugh. “You can, huh?” You met his gaze and he avoided it by looking to the side with an embarrassed grin.
A few moments of silence later, the soldier spoke up. “Say, doc,” You hummed, focused on throwing away the wipe once you were done sterilising the wound.
“What would you say if I uh- if someone asked you out? Asking for a friend.”
Your face was out of his sight since you were looking down on his palm, so he didn’t see you blinked slowly as you figured out why he was trying so hard to impress you. Suddenly you were aware that the chatter in the next room had gone silent, and you just knew that they were listening.
You looked up to see a faint red hue on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let out another huff of laughter at the sight. “Did you purposefully got this wound to see me for that?” You asked jokingly as you started to wrap his palm in gauze. “Woah, no. ..but I would, if it meant I could see you again.” People asking you out wasn’t something uncommon to you, but his confidence baffled you in a way. If only he knew who you were married to.
You decided to play along, curious to know where this would lead. “Does this friend of yours.. know that I’m married? I don’t keep it a secret, you know.” You said as you raised your hand to show an outline of a ring beneath the latex gloves. He didn’t say anything for a bit, eyes focused on the ring as he kissed his teeth.
“But your husband is not here, is he? A pretty girl like you deserves to be treated somewhere nice, doc. I can take you out, tonight.” He uttered.
You felt your eye twitch and heard the chairs in the next room scraped against the floor. You tugged a bit on the gauze, making sure it’s secure. At this point you were almost done with him, so you look up to meet his gaze, but what you saw behind him made the excitement in your body skyrocket.
Thank god his back was facing the doorway, because there stood Ghost, arms menacingly crossed across his broad chest, leaning on the doorframe. Soap was beside him, his phone out and presumably recording the unfortunate moment. He even had a palm over his mouth desperately trying to supress his laughter.
An idea sparked in your head, you pursed your lips in a thin line and looked down for a bit, before meeting the soldier’s eyes again. “You think I’m pretty?” You replied in a low tone. God, you felt the goosebumps travelling all over your back, cringing so, so hard. He nodded eagerly and muttered, “So pretty.”
“…Thank you, but I don’t know.. I already have a date tonight.” You feigned innocence and tilted your head. “Really?,” he scoffed. Judging from his reaction, you assumed he thought that another soldier at the base already asked you out. Well, he was right. “Who’s the lucky fella? Is it the new private?” You playfully shrugged. “It’s him, right? he told me you rejected him..”
A bubble of laughter erupted from your stomach, both from his reply and the way Ghost stood behind him. Ghost knew well how much you liked to tease him and he’s fighting the urge to just grab the soldier and punch a hole into his goddamn face. The soldier furrowed his eyebrows, lips tugged in a confused half-smile.
“No, no not with the private. With my husband, actually. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Your gaze now landed on the figure behind the soldier, and he turned around quickly and looked up to meet Ghost’s blood curdling glare. “..L-lieutenant,” He greeted in a mix of respect and pure horror. More of the latter.
You knew Soap’s phone got a crystal clear view of the colours draining out of the poor soldier’s face, making a mental note to watch it later. His eyes widened and you could see how frigid his body had turned as Ghost walked over to your side.
“That’s right. In fact, I think we might be late for the reservation. You’re almost done, love?” He said softly to you, before enunciating the last word while looking straight into the soldier’s soul. His adam’s apple shifted as he gulped down the terror.
You nodded cheerily, releasing the soldier’s bandaged hand before standing up and walking over to the doorframe. “Alright, my nurse will inform you how to take care of the wound. It will take about a week to fully heal, so be careful. Take care, soldier.” You said with a bubbly tone before exciting the room to get ready to end your shift.
Now he was alone with the lieutenant in the room, minus the borderline-laughing sergeant behind the doorframe. Ghost said nothing as he continued to glare fucking daggers into the soldier and seeing him squirm in the seat, waiting for the nurse. He felt cold sweat run down his spine, eyes wide and trying hard to not look at the lieutenant’s gaze. The pure awkwardness and realisation of ‘I just hit on the lieutenant’s WIFE’ made him wanted to faint.
The tension was soon cut through like a knife by Ghost himself, his deep voice bouncing off the walls. “Rest up, soldier. You have a long day tomorrow.” He said sternly as he left the room. As if he took the pressure out with him, the soldier finally let out a deep breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.
A faint “beep” and a laughter was heard outside of the door, making the scared-shitless soldier turn around in his seat. Soap peeked his head and looked at him, a grin on his face. “You fucked up, lad. Better warn the private too, if I was ya’. An’ your whole squad. Best of luck.” He spoke in amusement before walking off to find you and Ghost and letting the soldier drown in his shithole of despair.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#medic!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley x medic!reader
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Jealousy alastor headcanons?? Like what does it for him and how he acts? Please?
Jealous Alastor Head-cannons!!
It doesn't take much to make him jealous, the fact that other men breathe the same air as you is enough to annoy him. He normally can keep himself calm, but if one moves an inch too close his voice will glitch and that's their warning.
"You're oddly cozy with them, Y/N." He'll sneer if you ever mention the person around him. He's not looking for validation, he knows you aren't interested in anyone else, he just wants to make it known he's aware of your little friend and they better stay as that and nothing more.
What are you doing with them? Where? Why? Can he tag along? If you say no, he'll just follow you from the shadows. Who's so important you're with them instead of him? He gets possessive, cling even.
Will leave doodles of whoever you're hanging out with dead out in the open when they're around, just to watch the panic on their face. "What? I was feeling creative."
P. E. T. T. Y. He'll do things just to get your attention like bump into you on "accident" or death glare at who you're talking to until they walk away. Don't even bother lecturing him about it, he'll just give you a satisfied smirk because at least you're only focused on him now.
If you're gone for too long you'll turn around to him looming over you. He'll have his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and smile a bit too low. "How long are you going to be occupied?" He's asking to be polite, he's going to whisk you away from whatever (or whoever) you're distracted by.
Complains to Rosie about whoever has you distracted and also learns everything about them from her through gossip. He's better than an FBI agent, knowing them inside and out- he learned their allergies out of curiosity and definitely not to trigger them.
Did they just touch you? They'll wake up fingerless. He only keeps them alive because you're so fond of them. How annoying. He'll give them a few more chances before getting rid of them for good, but the moment he hears a single compliment that's a bit too passionate they've got to go.
Will casually gaslight you if you ask if he hurt them. "Darling, I'd never do anything to hurt you." He'll say while holding his bloody hands behind his back. It's not a lie, manipulation? Sure. It's for your own good. You're better off without them.
Hides their body under your floorboards so he can give it to you as a birthday gift. What's better than closure?
Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly!
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Requests open!!
#wink writes 💗#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin#hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#the radio demon
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Hii could you do a ghost x reader who is just gave birth having their day old child and soap John gaz came over to ghost house to see the baby once the reader left the room to go breastfeed their baby in their room price telling ghost how far he had come in life
Here you go! Thank you for the request, and I hope it’s okay. I made it a bit more (just a week) rather than a day old before they came over. That’s just because if someone came to my house the day I got home after giving birth, I would kill them 😅
Too Good
Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader
Words: 2400+
Warnings: Nothing really!
Also, this is the same universe as Unexpected! You don't have to read them first, but if you want to here is Part 1 and Part 2.
Beautiful art/rendering from @ave661
"Love, they are here!” Simon’s voice bellowed through the flat to reach your ears.
You let out a small, “Okay,” just loud enough for him to hear it. Your eyes staring back at you in the mirror, checking your appearance.
Today was the day you were finally going to meet Simon’s team. You had overheard a conversation he had on the phone a week back, when you finally were home from the hospital. Simon was good at being sneaky (it was in the job description) but you still overheard him.
“Aye, I need a bit more time,” he murmured into the phone.
After a brief pause, “What do you mean ‘Just because’ isn’t an excuse?” He huffed.
You were paused in the hallway, sleeping baby in your arms just praying she would stay asleep so you could listen in to the conversation a moment longer.
“Gaz saw me take off from base? Bloody hell.” You could almost hear him gripping between his eyes in irritation.
“Yes, I promise everything is alright yeah? Just had a bit of something to do.” He explained vaguely as ever.
There was a long pause on his end, like the person on the other side of the phone was lecturing him. He will give an occasional small ‘Yes’, ‘I know’ or ‘Yes sir’, which had you wondering who he was talking to.
“Fuck me, Cap. You make it impossible to not tell you everything. Listen, I’ll call you later today and tell you everything okay?” Simon barely paused long enough for a response before he hung up.
With a long sigh, he stood from his spot on the couch. He had noticed you were gone an awfully long time and began down the hallway to check on you.
Too focused on slowly rocking your sleeping daughter in your arms and trying to be quiet to listen to his call you hadn’t even realized Simon was heading your way until it was too late.
You almost jumped out of our skin when he appeared like an apparition into your vision.
“Jesus Si!” You quietly yelled, more of a whisper to make sure you didn’t wake the baby.
You watched as his lips curled into a smirk. “And just what are you doing sweetheart?” He leaned his shoulder into the wall as casual as ever.
“Oh uh- well I was you know, well I was-“ your brain couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough.
“Didn’t take you for an eavesdropper sweet girl,” he said with a grin.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” you replied defensively.
“Right,” he laughed. “Hear anything good?”
“Not… really,” you murmured, clearly caught.
“That was my Captain,” he explained. “Checking in on things after the way I left base.”
You simply nodded, not quite sure what to say.
“I thought I had left unseen, but apparently Gaz saw me leave ‘in a panic’ as he put it,” he rolled his eyes. “So he wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Makes sense.” You bit the inside of your lip to stop from adding on to the sentence.
But Simon always reads you like a book. He squinted at you before questioning “What is it?”
Your eyebrows almost shot to your hairline at that. You cleared your throat and slowly walked around him to head towards the living room. The baby’s bassinet was in there and it would make it easier to have this conversation if she wasn’t in your arms. You gently placed her down with a kiss on her head, Simon followed right behind you and mirrored you with a tender kiss in the exact spot you had kissed her precious little head.
You sighed softly before sitting on the couch. Simon sat beside you, shifting himself to face you a little more before you started talking.
“I suppose I wondered… why didn’t you just tell him the truth?” You questioned softly.
“Just what do you mean sweetheart?”
“Well I mean… why didn’t you just tell him you left because I called you and that we have a baby.” You asked with a small tilt of your head.
“Oh.” Simon responded with a hand on the back of his neck. He took a moment or two before his eyes met you again. “Love, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way and I hope you will let me explain.” He pleaded.
Even though that made you terrified, you just focused on your breathing and nodded.
“Well I haven’t told the team about you yet,” he explained softly.
Your face betrayed you and it fell immediately, eyes unable to meet him. Not even a second passed before his hands were on your tugging your chin back up to look at him.
“It isn’t like that my love,” Simon went on. “You are just… everything to me. I come here to you and I don’t think about work. You deserve the world and somehow I thought keeping you and them separated would be best.”
Hazel eyes held yours for a long time, nothing but true and raw emotion in them to convey he was telling the truth.
“I understand,” you replied quietly.
“Also, we haven’t really talked about if you wanted me to tell the team so I didn’t want to overstep…” Simon professed.
As silly as it sounds out loud, he never wanted to force you to be a part of that part of his life, a part of the Ghost’s life. He has endured things you never deserved to even hear of, his sweet girl didn’t need to be exposed to it all if he had any say in the matter.
“I don’t mind if you tell people about me,” you said, almost embarrassed. You could feel the tips of your ears warming at the confession.
“Yeah pretty?” He smiled as he gently touched your cheek with his fingers? “You want me to tell my team about you?”
“Well I don’t-you don’t have to.” You mumbled out quickly.
“You think I wouldn’t want to tell them about you?” Simon asked honestly. His fingers gently pushed your hair behind your ear.
“I- I don’t know. Does everyone else talk about their partners?” You questioned honestly.
“Price is the only one with a partner, Gaz and Johnny brag about their flings occasionally.” Simon broke into a big grin. “They won’t know what to do when I tell them about you.”
“Oh,” you bit the inside of your lip again. “So you want to tell them about me?”
“Of course love… I’ve almost let it slip out a few times as is,” Simon leaned in to brush a kiss along your cheek. “And I can’t wait to tell them about Emma too. If you are okay with that?” He pulled back to read your face.
“I’m okay with it if you are, Si,” you reassured him.
“I’m okay with it… but I will warn you once I tell them they won’t want to wait long before seeing you and the little miss,” he smiled as he leaned his head to meet yours.
You paused for a moment, taking him in. Feeling safe and happier than you can remember feeling in a long time. “I’m okay with that.”
So there you stood, in your mirror. Checking your appearance for the 5th or 6th time for the night. Even though you were a new mom, dealing with a changed body you wanted to make a good impression.
Emma had been in her bassinet sleeping, awaiting the arrival of Simon’s friends (or work mates as he put it). Your body was still healing, so you had thrown on a soft but matching lounge set and felt nice to not be wearing a spit-up stained shirt and sweats for once.
Simon opened the front door to see Price, Gaz and Johnny. All looking varied shades of giddy. Johnny was all but bouncing on his toes. Gaz held a kind smile that was a little bit too big to be classified as a ‘normal’ grin. Price stood behind the other two, stoic and holding a pretty bouquet of flowers.
“Flowers are for the Missus,” Price began with a smile.
“And this is for the little miss,” Gaz exclaimed. Pulling a gift bag that was hidden behind his back.
Simon couldn’t help the small chuckle that fell from him.
“Well come in then, yeah?” He asked with an arm out inviting his team into your flat.
One by one the men made their way inside, all smacking Simon’s shoulder with pride before coming face to face with you in the living room. Simon took a few steps in your direction, before placing a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you deeper into the room.
“Price, Johnny, Gaz,” Simon began pointing as he said their name. “This is Y/N, sweetheart… this is my team.” Simon wouldn’t admit that he was nervous, but you could hear the waver in his voice that wasn’t usually there.
“Heya there Mrs Ghost,” Johnny spoke up first, hand out shaking yours gently. “You dinnae tell us she was such a bonnie lass aye, LT.” His Scottish accent was thick, but the compliment followed by the wink he gave you had your ears burning.
“Don’t you start with her MacTavish,” Simon warned jokingly, but pulled you into him a little more.
“I’m Gaz,” Gaz spoke up with a charming smile and a small handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” you replied as your eyes fell to the small gift bag in his hand. He held the gift out, and Simon grabbed it. “We got the little Miss a gift, hope that’s alright.” Gaz gave you a huge grin showing almost all of his teeth. Even if you weren’t okay with the gift, how could anyone say no to him?
The last man, with the mutton chops was the only one left and you knew who he was because Simon spoke about him the most to you, Captain Price.
The Captain held out a beautiful bouquet of flowers to you, which you took immediately and smelled. “Nice to meet you,” he began. “Hard to believe someone has held Ghost’s heart and he is just now telling us about you.” He held a polite smile, but his voice had an edge to it.
Simon’s hand that was free raised to the back of his neck nervously. You let your eyes drift to his for a moment, silently checking in. Simon gave your waist a small and reassuring squeeze, signally that he’s good.
“Thank you all for the gifts… and it’s so nice to meet all of you. It’s great to be able to put faces to the names from Si’s stories.”
“Si, eh?” Johnny’s lips turn up in a grin at the nickname.
“Johnny,” Price spoke up at that, warning him to behave.
“Well who wants to meet Emma?” You spoke up, ready to move past the formalities.
Simon nodded, and led you over to where she was still sleeping soundly in the bassinet. Once your eyes fall on her sleeping form you can’t help but smile. As gently as Simon could he picked her up with a kiss on her head, and laid her in your arms so that everyone could see her. The men gently circle in around you, none of them wanting to be the last to lay their eyes on her.
“Wow,” Gaz whispered out.
“Beautiful bairn LT,” Johnny complimented. His hand reaching out for Simon’s shoulder again to congratulate.
“This is Emma,” you introduce her to the team.
She was tiny, sleeping while swaddled in her blanket. Price felt pride swell up in his chest, same as he would as if this was his biological grandchild. Simon stood at your side, watching you show off your daughter. Hand never leaving your lower back, as his other gently brushes her little cheek with the back of two fingers.
Simon looked to Price and their eyes met, “Congratulations you two, what a wonderful baby girl.”
Emma decided now was the time to start whimpering, in warning before she started to cry out. You immediately started shushing her gently and bouncing her softly, to soothe her.
“I think it’s time for someone to eat,” you explain to the group. “We will be back.”
Simon whispers into your ear, just a small word of encouragement before you head to the nursery to feed your daughter.
They all watch you leave, no one speaking up until the door closes behind you.
“Well if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.” Gaz gushed immediately.
“Aye, LT you are pulling way outcha league,” Johnny bellows out a laugh at that.
“Shut it, Johnny.” Simon rolls his eyes before heading to the kitchen. “Want a drink?” They all give different versions of a yes, then Price speaks up that he will join Simon in the kitchen. Gaz and Johnny then take a seat on the couch, starting up conversation immediately.
Simon heads straight to the cabinet snagging 4 tumblers out, before reaching to the bourbon on the counter.
“Thanks for inviting us Simon,” Price started. “Your girls are lovely.”
Simon couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. Despite how uncomfortable he was with all of this, from inviting his team into your flat, being a new father, hell he hasn’t even asked you if he can move in with you full time yet, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time.
“Thanks Price.” He slid his glass across the island to Price, and he accepted the glass with a tilt of his head.
“You have come a long way, Simon.” Price expressed honestly. “In more ways than I can ever express.” He leaned his elbows on the island, looking into the glass of amber liquid. “Seeing you happy like this isn’t something I ever expected.” Price pulled his eyes from the glass to meet Simon’s.
“Hell, I for sure never expected it,” Simon joked.
“I mean it,” Price held a serious tone. “You deserve this.”
Simon nodded, not sure he did deserve this, but no sense in saying it outloud.
“Aye, LT you mind if we put the match on?” Gaz asked from the entry of the kitchen, hand gesturing back to the TV in the living room.
“Sure,” he answered with a shake of his head.
Without another word, Simon grabbed a second tumbler for one of the guys as Price grabbed the remaining one.
“Who would believe we are going to watch the football match in Ghost’s flat?” Johnny jokes from the couch, grabbing the glass Simon handed him.
With a roll of his eyes, “Don’t get used to it.” Although, a smile was on his lips and his tone wasn’t as serious as usual. Maybe having them over isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Since this could be read as part 3 of Unexpected I went ahead and tagged you all again! Hope that is okay 😊
Tags: @daemondoll @mileyraes @axoleos @arminarlertssword @wawuwe @cxltblood @mrflyingbanana03 @itsmytimetoodream @arminarlertssword @mrssabinecallas @babygirl-riley @gplol @yuly
Thank you for reading! If you have an idea or request for a fic, feel free to send 🖤
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#reader insert#simon riley#call of duty#thank you
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james potter x (sirius' younger sister) reader where he knows about it but they love making his life miserable by always being on top of each other or doing cute couple things and making out whenever he enters the room (bonus point if they use the map to make sure he's coming in)
thank you for requesting!🖤
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If there was one thing you learnt befriending the marauders, it was to love a good prank.
From small, stupid pranks that would make you giggle to long haul ones that made you laugh until your stomach had stitches, you loved a prank. You loved being a part of them. You loved planning them. You loved having a group of friends who were able to be so carefree and unbothered around each other, healthy enough to prank each other regularly and prank others together.
However, what you never accounted for was that these silly little pranks would lead you to fall in love with someone. And for that someone to be your brother’s best friend.
Despite what Sirius thought, your relationship with James Potter was not an ongoing prank. It was real, realer than any relationship you had ever had before. You loved him and he downright adored you like you were the best thing on this Earth, and that was just something Sirius would have to get used to.
Not that you and James didn’t have your fun with your brother’s overdramatic, theatrical reactions.
It had been subtle things to wind him up at first.
Like sitting beside each other during meals with James’ arm around your shoulder and sometimes feeding each other little bites until Sirius would eventually try and wiggle his way to sit between the two of you.
Like wearing James’ jersey for quidditch games rather than his and watching as the boy claimed it a betrayal of the highest order that his sister had switched sides.
Like casually sitting on James’ lap when the group are hanging around the common room, even when there are seats free, because you two like to cuddle up on the armchair with a blanket thrown over your laps whilst Sirius yells for no funny business.
Sometimes, you’re prepared for it and you like to toy with your brother. After showing you the marauders map, it wasn’t rare for you and James to just set up wee scenarios when you knew your brother would walk in.
But sometimes, it was just purely by accident that Sirius would walk in but that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of it.
“It’s too fucking hot,” you groaned as you threw your body down onto your boyfriend’s bed, only to groan when the feeling of the sheets against your sweaty skin was anything but satisfying.
“You say this every time we get a heatwave after complaining how we have no good weather up here,” James mused as he rummaged through his chest for a shirt.
“You’re meant to be on my side, Potter,” you grumbled, lifting your head to glare at him.
“My mistake,” he said, abandoning his search as he began to crawl over towards you until his hands were pressed against either side of your head and his face was hovering above yours. “You are always right, my love, always.”
Your lips twitched. “Better?”
“Not enough?” James let out a heavy sigh before a grin spread across his face. “Well, that just won’t do.”
Before you could complain any further, James was dipping his head down to press his lips against yours. You smiled against his mouth, your arms wounding around his neck to pull him a little closer as his tongue teased yours.
“You’re too warm,” you murmured between kisses, your eyes falling shut as he began to trail soft pecks along your jaw. “Why are you a bloody heater?”
“You love it during winter,” he mused before lifting his head, his eyes sparkling with an idea you knew would make your thighs clench. “Why don’t we sneak off to the lake? The water will be cold and—”
“MY FUCKING EYES!”
Both of you whipped your heads around to find Sirius standing in the doorway, blanching and gagging as he recoiled and covered his eyes. He let out a dramatic cry, something quite like a garbled sound of discontent.
“Fucking hell, Pads, got some lungs on you there,” James joked, clearly unbothered by the fact he had just walked in on you two. He could have seen much worse.
“What is wrong with you both?!” Sirius yelled, finally opening his eyes to look at you two between narrowed eyes. “Lock the fucking door!”
There was a pause.
“Actually no, you shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place!” He huffed out before pointing at you. “You shouldn’t even be here, full stop.”
You rolled your eyes at your older brother. “Blah, blah, blah.”
“Calm your tits, Pads,” James muttered before he pulled himself off the bed, taking your hand and helping you up too. “We were leaving anyways.”
Sirius frowned a little. “Good—”
“Your sister has a lil’ one piece she wants to show me—”
“PRONGS!”
“It’s her favourite swimming costume,” James said with an innocent smile. “What did you think I was talking about?”
“You’re evil,” Sirius said with his lips turned downwards. “Both of you. I’m telling Euphemia about this.”
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#james potter#marauders#harry potter#hp#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY
feat. gojou satoru
word count: 1444
summary: cowboy!satoru. you have him hooked.
a/n: so technically satoru is an outlaw but catchy titles negate correct terminology <3 my best friends asked me to write this. hi lana and raegan.
When Satoru first meets you, he swears you are the prettiest person he’s ever laid eyes on. You work the bar at a saloon an acquaintance urged him to visit together and all he can do is stare, watching you make drinks and chat idly with regulars and do nothing special at all, really; somehow, the world stops spinning despite that. He foolishly orders something to drink, even though he and everyone that knows a single thing about him knows he hates the stuff, and his grin is a tad too earnest, his voice a tad too loud. He’s not one to indulge in casual flings or idle romance, but he sticks around until the end of the night, avoiding his own glass and watching the people around him drink themselves into idiots.
“Is it always like this?” He asks you, desperate to talk to you.
You grin. “Most nights, yeah. People don’t usually stick around this late if they’re not looking to get pissed.” You gesture to his drink, three sips away from a full glass. “You gonna drink that?”
“Nah.” He takes his hat off, dropping it onto the counter so he can run a hand through his hair. “I’m not a fan of liquor.”
“Then what are you doing at this hour?” You ask, tone playful. “We do have non-alcoholic drinks, if you want. I can grab you a lemonade?”
He agrees, brushing fingers with yours, and your kind, distant smile is a shock on his heart.
Satoru visits more often than anyone with his dislike for alcohol should, sticking around your small town despite the idea of bigger prospects - he’s Gojou Satoru after all, the most notorious outlaw around. There’s always a bigger, brighter thing to be doing; men to rob, bounties to collect, money to launder. The brightest of all manages to be spending the night with you, tipping more than he should for a simple lemonade and idling at the counter as you work.
Funnily enough, his pathetic pining doesn’t lead to much until the day you encounter him outside your job. Some idiot starts a fight with him just on the outskirts of town, intent on taking Satoru’s head and securing the large bounty hanging over his head. It’s after he’s knocked the man out and is the middle of hopping onto his horse that you turn the corner, mouth dropping open in shock.
His sky blue eyes are bright against the meagre shade his hat provides, cheeks red from the sun and knuckles purpling from the recent encounter. The bandana he’s so partial to is pulled down around his neck, and your eyes linger on the firm set of his mouth before straying to the man before him. You recognise him as one of your regulars and, more importantly, a man of the law - though it’s hard to tell, bloody and bruised as his mouth hangs open. A thin line of drool drips onto the grass beside his head. You turn back to him in shock. “What are you doing?”
Satoru shrugs. “He started it.”
“What did you do to have an officer after you?”
“A few things.” His gaze skitters away from you. “I’m kind of persona non grata to most of the law.”
You blink, and he can tell the second it dawns on you, your hand slapping over your mouth in surprise. “You’re Gojou Satoru?”
“The one and only.” He winks. “Don’t look too surprised. I’m not that unrecognisable, am I?”
It’s the truth; you’re privy to plenty of gossip about what a pretty boy that Gojou is, but on average you like to keep your eyes and ears away from the conversations of the men that frequent your place of work. Nothing good comes out of involving yourself with them, so you’d simply… avoided most passing rumours. Sure, you’d heard the handsome, famed outlaw Gojou Satoru was hanging around town, but how were you supposed to know it was the same man that tips you double he pays and always offers to walk you home?
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say bluntly. “Now, come on - someone will come by any minute, and I’m not getting caught up in this.”
You two run into each other more often after that. Now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, you become subject to his blatant posturing; his smug attitude amplifies by tenfold, and whenever a fight at the saloon gets particularly out of hand, he’s the one to step in and break it up with a threatening, we’re all friends, aren’t we? How about we take this outside and sort it out? Considering you like to keep your business to yourself, you never mention the fact he’ll return with a few less people accompanying him, simply slipping him a free drink as repayment. Not that it matters, because he tips you the price anyway.
“You need to stop tipping me so much,” you declare one day as he escorts you home from work. His hands are shoved in his pockets, that godawful hat shading his head from nothing because it’s the dead of night. “I think my boss is suspecting I’ve taken on a second job of the more salacious kind.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Uh, yeah. How do you think he’s gonna start treating me if he becomes convinced I’m working part-time as a prostitute? Not well, I’ll tell you that much.”
“If he does that, just tell me. I’ll sort it out.”
You huff. “Aren’t you nice.”
“What? I’m being serious.”
“I don’t need all this special treatment, you know?” You sigh, head tipping back to look overhead. The moon is obscured by deep, overbearing clouds - a side effect of the poor weather you’ve been suffering through. “I don’t know what about me is so interesting, but I don’t need this- this princess treatment.”
“Princess treatment?” He repeats, lips stretching wide in a smug, pleased grin. “Didn’t know you thought of it like that.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Do I?”
You send him a flat look. “Yes.”
“Maybe I just like your company.” He leans into your space, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not many can hold the Gojou Satoru��s attention, you know?”
“Lucky me.”
“I’m serious! There’s people that’d kill to be in your position.”
“Not if they knew how trashy your personality is.” You flick the brim of his hat, the leather smooth against his fingertips. “They should consider themselves lucky they don’t have to put up with it.”
He whines your name. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word that comes out of my mouth,” you tease.
“No you don’t.”
“I do so.”
“Stop talking to Utahime so much. She’s turning you against me.”
“Is she now? I think you’re turning me against yourself, trying to police who I’m friends with.” Your thumb smooths over the edge of his hat. His head tilts down to look you in the eye, the blue vibrant under the dim glow of the streetlights.
He says your name again, stretching the vowels. “You’re too mean to me.”
“Am I? Here I thought the famed Gojou Satoru could handle himself.” You snicker at the affronted look that crosses his features, swiping his hat off his head.
“Hey!”
“Hey yourself.” You examine it, head cocking so you can look up at him through your lashes. “Is there a problem?”
“You’re impossible.”
“Never thought you’d be the one to say those words.” You fix the hat atop your head, squinting as it abruptly blocks most of your view. Good for when you’re out in the sun, pisspoor for when you’re walking at night. How does he even see with that thing on? Still, you turn to him. “How do I look?”
“You look fine. I-” he cuts himself off. You tilt your head back, a palm on the back of the hat so it doesn’t slip off your head. He’s grinning slowly, softening his features with delight. “You stole my hat.”
“Uh, yeah? Where’d you think I got it?”
“You stole my hat.” He repeats gleefully. “I didn’t realise you liked me so much.”
“What?” Your brows furrow for a split second before it hits you. You immediately turn your head away from him. “Oh my god. You’re impossible.”
“Am I? I’m not the one that puts on an outlaw’s hat.” His hand slides against yours, helping prevent it from sliding off. “It looks good on you.”
Your gaze flutters to him, where his features are fond and warm. God, if he isn’t the most impossible man you’ve ever met. He’s lucky you like him so much. “Good. I’d hoped it would.”
so i actually had something completely different written for this but i hated it so i started over. that's why it was posted two weeks after it was requested
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojou x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader
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Black Market
Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader
In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.
Mention of Kidnapping.
Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist
Simon sat in his dimly lit house, the dim glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his face. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the keyboard as he navigated through the depths of the black market.
His eyes scanned the screen, brows furrowing in frustration as he scrolled through the listings, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. Contract after contract flashed before him, each promising a hefty sum of money in exchange for services rendered.
But to Simon, they were all the same—assassinations, espionage, sabotage. The thrill of danger had lost its appeal long ago, replaced by a sense of weariness and disillusionment.
Cursing under his breath, Simon scrolled through the listings for hire, his frustration growing with each passing moment. There were no personal black market doctors available for hire—every reputable one was already taken. It seemed like luck was against him today.
With a heavy sigh, he closed the browser window and turned his attention to the stack of mail sitting on his desk. Among the bills and junk mail, there it was – a jury duty summons.
He groaned aloud, rubbing his temples in frustration. Spending hours in a stuffy courtroom was the last thing he needed right now. It meant taking time away from his work, time that could be spent securing lucrative contracts and staying ahead of the game.
But there was no avoiding it. He knew he'd have to fulfill his civic duty, no matter how inconvenient it might be. With a resigned shake of his head, he tucked the summons into his pocket, another burden to add to the weight on his shoulders.
You find yourself slumping down on the hard concrete steps in front of the courthouse, the weight of defeat heavy upon you. Having lost your case and now facing a million dollars in debt, the world seems to close in around you. With a resigned sigh, you reach for your pack of cigarettes, seeking solace in the familiar routine.
"Mind sharing your pack?" A deep, coarse voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance over to see a tall man dressed in black leaning against the railing beside you. Without hesitation, you extend your pack to him, and he takes one before returning the pack to you.
Simon curses to himself, realizing he's forgotten his lighter, confiscated earlier by a courthouse officer. "Mind lighting me? Fuckers at the courthouse took my light," he grumbles, frustration evident in his voice.
You smiled and handed him your lighter, the flame casting a warm glow on his face as he lit his cigarette. "Jury duty?" you asked casually, observing him take a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Yeah, you?" he replied, his tone resigned but with a hint of intrigue.
You laughed wryly and took another drag, the bitter taste of nicotine mingling with the heavy weight of your circumstances. "Just got sued for a million fucking dollars."
"Bloody fuck, what did you do?" Simon's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his interest immediately piqued.
You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I replaced a man’s heart with a pig heart," you confessed, fully aware of how crazy it sounded.
Simon's eyes widened in intrigue, and without hesitation, he walked over and sat down next to you, his curiosity now fully ignited. Knowing how to perform a heart transplant suggested a level of medical expertise that interested him.
"And how the bloody hell did you do that?" he asked, his curiosity evident in his voice.
“I was just sitting at the intersection for ages waiting for the light to change, when I noticed a guy getting mugged. Without thinking, I grabbed my emergency kit from the car and rushed over. Since I have O negative blood, I used my own blood for a transfusion to stabilize him. Then, I spotted a truck nearby loaded with pigs. I didn't waste a second - I hopped in, grabbed a pig, and performed an open heart surgery right there on the sidewalk. Sure, the guy ended up with a pig heart, but he's alive because of it. And now he's suing me? Unbelievable. Should've left that fuck to die.”
Simon couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, but beneath the laughter, a plan began to form in his mind.
"So he was standing in the courtroom with a pig's heart?"
You shook your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "No, he ended up getting a proper heart transplant. One that would never have happened if I hadn't stepped in. The bastard would've bled out and wasted all my blood before the paramedics even arrived."
"Are you a licensed doctor?”
Open heart surgery on a sidewalk and having O-negative blood? You were better than any doctor he could hire on the black market.
You shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I had my license revoked a few years back. They said my practice and way of thinking were unconventional, that I should be working in a lab making more Frankenstein’s than helping people. I took it as a compliment though. Those doctors were just scared of what I could do, of how far I would go to save someone."
Simon smiled and took another drag before smashing the cigarette on the floor under his boot.
"So you're looking for jobs?"
You sighed, mirroring his action with your own cigarette. "In desperate need for a job."
"I think we could help each other," Simon suggested, his tone shifting slightly.
You slowly side-eyed him, then awkwardly laughed as you leaned away. "I'm not looking for jobs like that."
Simon's eyebrow quirked up before he realized how he sounded, and he shook his head with a smile. "Not like that, love. I meant that you could work for me, and I'd pay you."
You relaxed a bit and leaned back, intrigued. "What do you do?"
"Let's just say, you stay with me as my personal doctor, and I pay you twenty percent after each job I complete. You'll have your money in a couple of months,"
"A million dollars in a couple of months? What kind of jobs are giving you that type of money-" realization dawned on you, and a chill ran down your spine. Simon was involved in something much darker than you anticipated, and memories of your own past involvements in the black market came flooding back, making your palms sweat with unease.
"I'm sorry, but I can't take your offer," you said, your voice firm but polite. Simon furrowed his brows in confusion and frustration. He had just given you an opportunity of a lifetime, one you so desperately needed, and you turned him down?
Internally sighing, Simon knew he'd have to resort to more extreme measures now.
You got up and dusted off your butt before looking down at him. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to head out," you said, offering a weak smile before turning and heading to your car.
That night, Simon tracked down where you lived and noted your home address. He packed his duffle bag and got into his car, making his way over to your house. With careful precision, he snuck into your backyard and opened your back window before silently slipping inside.
Meanwhile, you were sitting at your desk, scrolling through job offerings in your pajamas, feeling the weight of impending debt pressing down on you. With a heavy sigh, you turned off your monitor, resigned to your fate. That's when you noticed it—the faint outline of a man in the dark reflection of your monitor screen.
Simon attempted to cover your mouth with a rag, but you reacted swiftly, elbowing him hard and knocking the wind out of him. Turning around, you landed a solid punch to his jaw, leaving Simon in disbelief. He had underestimated you.
As you ran, trying to reach your room, Simon quickly pinned you to the floor. Despite your resistance, he managed to overpower you, but you fought back fiercely, headbutting him in the face. Simon grunted, trying his best not to harm you.
You nearly reached your nightstand where you kept your gun, but Simon pinned you down again, this time on your stomach. Desperately, you struggled against him, but Simon pressed a rag against your mouth and nose, forcing you to inhale its contents. Despite your efforts to resist, you eventually succumbed to the effects, your body going limp in a matter of seconds.
Simon breathed deeply as he stood up, his chest heaving with exertion. Opening your nightstand, he retrieved your gun with a heavy sigh. "Bloody hell, love,"
Simon headed to the bathroom in search of your medical supplies. Finding what he needed, he grabbed a trash bag and hastily gathered a few of your clothes and essential items. With a sense of urgency, he tied up the bag and threw it over his shoulder, carefully picking you up and carrying you to his car.
Tag list: @shinchanboi @talooolaaloolla
#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#alternate universe#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod au#ghost call of duty#writers#call of duty#cod#cod mw3#cod mwii#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#cod fandom#cod community#cod fanfiction#cod fic#cod x you#call of duty x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost mw2
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Izzyhuahua is the most insanely accurate characterization yet. Thank you @batsarebetterthanpeople for your post.
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Ed, in a modern black tee shirt and jeans, walks in a door that dings when he opens it. He has a square shaped cloth shoulder bag strapped over his chest that is decorated with skulls and embroidered with "Izzy" at the top. Popping up from inside is a dark brown long haired Chihuahua with white on his muzzle, spots on his head that look like angry eyebrows, and a spot on his cheek that looks like an x. 1b. Ed from the back as he holds up dog Izzy with both hands, saying, "you're gonna have to sedate him." Lucius, dressed as a vet tech in peach scrubs and a red kerchief, holds out his hands to take him with a smirk, responding dismissively, "Haha, don't worry! Dr. Bonnet can handle this little guy." Izzy growls softly. 1c. 10 minutes later. Lucius reappears, hair missed, clothes torn, and a bloody bandage around his left pointer finger. He holds out a form on a clipboard and says, "Yeah, we're gonna need to sedate him."
2a. Close up on Stede, dressed in teal scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck, on a bubbly yellow background. He looks up, eyes widening and cheeks turning red, mouth soft as he fumbles through an introduction, "Hello, I'm Dr. ...uh.... Stede..." 2b. Reverse close up of Ed in a similar state, staring lovestruck and blushing as he responds dazedly, "...Ed..." 2c. Close up on Izzy as he furiously launches himself upwards, growling and snarling! Offscreen, Ed screams, "Ahh, fuck, Izzy, no!!" and Stede shrieks, "Oh God!!" and calls for Lucius.
3a. Later, Izzy is now out cold on an examination table, snoring and tongue sticking out but somehow still looking angry. Text nearby points to him and says "extra extra drugs". Ed and Stede stand on either side of the table, Ed gently petting Izzy's back with a smile as he explains, "He has a lot of separation anxiety... I'd just like him to stop biting people, haha." Stede, arms crossed, looks down skeptically at the dog and just replies, "Right." He thinks to himself, 'Diagnosis: complete asshole.' 3b. Ed looks down, blushing a bit, and continues, "Makes dating kinda tough, heh." Stede immediately perks up but tries to keep it casual, looking everywhere but Ed and sweating at his temple. "oh?" he ventures carefully. "You're single, then?" Ed sighs, replying, "Yeah. Iz here has run off my last two boyfriends." 3c. Ed looks up at the ceiling, playing ignorance, and taps his chin facetiously, wondering aloud, "But maybe if I found someone good with animals...who understood-" Stede, looking sweaty and panicked, interrupts him at top volume with "Do you want to have dinner with me?!" 3d. Stede drops his tomato red face into his hands, mumbling, "I'm sorry, that was so unprofessional..." Ed just beams at him from the other side of the table, clearly having gotten the invite he was fishing for. On the table, Izzy starts to twitch and wake, one angry eye cracking open.
4a. Stede and Ed on a black leather loveseat in Ed's home, mismatched candles the only source of light on either side of them and music drifting sensuously from a speaker. Both are clearly dressed for a date, Stede in a button up and khakis and Ed in a purple henley and gray trousers. They are leaning close, knees interlaced, Ed's hand on Stede's thigh and the other cupping his cheek, Stede with one hand stretched on the back of the couch and the other expertly cupping a wine glass. Their faces are an inch apart, eyes closed, about to have their first kiss. 4b. There is a happy "yip!" as Izzy suddenly jumps up into Ed's lap and places his little paws on his chest, breaking the moment and causing Ed and Stede to jerk back from each other in surprise. 4c. Ed laughs and wraps his hands around the little dog, hearts floating up as he coos, "Aww, Izzy! Did you need some attention?" Unnoticed by Ed, Izzy turns to look at Stede over his shoulder to aim what can only be called a triumphant smirk at him. Stede jerks in surprise and looks immediately offended and angry. /end ID
#ofmd#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#mlm#Izzy hands#izzyhuahua#our flag means death#my art#fanart#image described
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I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…
I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words
The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough.
Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals.
They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer.
"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room.
The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here."
You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue.
"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."
"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes.
He bats your hand away. "Stop."
You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.
He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.
"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.
He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is.
"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily.
"Sure am, sweetheart."
You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.
"Thanks."
You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you.
"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask.
"Baby, what the fuck have you done?"
The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly.
His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit."
You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether.
"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression.
Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand.
He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.
"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he says.
You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.
He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages.
"Hold the gauze, honey," he says.
You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees.
You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies."
"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious.
You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning."
He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."
He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now.
"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees."
"Sorry."
He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet."
"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!"
"I can be scarier."
"No you can't."
"No, I can't."
You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.
"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me."
"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask.
"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in.
#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader blurb#eddie munson x gender neutral reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#x reader
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kiss with a fist | chapter two.
masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: baby said by måneskin.
author's note: i'd apologize for the filth, but i'm not actually sorry and at this point you should expect it from me. enjoy theo's cheeky mouth. he singlehandedly started the sassy man revolution.
A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as soon as you walked into the potions lab. Buried deep in the dungeons, the room had always made you feel a bit claustrophobic. You were used to the airiness of Ravenclaw Tower with its twisting spires, starry glass domed ceiling, and four story bookshelves. You couldn’t even see the sky from this far below.
But you supposed that the Slytherins preferred their dark and dreary viper’s nest.
Speaking of serpents, Theo slinked into the classroom with his eyes half-closed, nearly running into the wall. His hair was a tousled mess like he’d just now rolled out of bed. The faded emerald hoodie and gray sweatpants he had haphazardly thrown on looked considerably more casual than your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt.
“You’re late,” you scolded sharply. “How are you late? You literally live here.”
“S’too bloody early.”
Theo yawned lazily as he settled into the seat beside you. He cocked his head, dragging his gaze up and down your body before flicking a stray lock that had fallen out of your braid crown. You always kept your hair up since prefect duties had you running around the castle for the majority of your day. This morning, it was even more prudent to tie it back since you would be working with volatile potions and an even more volatile boy.
“Are you always so prim and perfect?”
“Are you always so sloppy and underwhelming?”
Theo snickered, unfazed by the comment. “Someone’s grumpy this morning.”
“You would be too if you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to nick a muffin from the kitchens.”
The sad looking pastry sat between you, partially crushed from being hastily stuffed into your book bag after barely evading the house elves.
All that hard work disappeared before your eyes as Theo devoured the muffin in seconds. The bloody git had the audacity to swipe your thermos off the table and tipped its contents directly into his mouth, crumbs and all.
His face immediately contorted into disgust. “What in the bloody hell is this?”
“Pumpkin spice latte.”
“Pumpkin what?”
“It’s a muggle thing.”
“It’s an abomination, is what it is.”
You snatched the thermos back. “No one told you to drink it. Do you even know how long it took for me to collect enough instant coffee packets to last the whole term? And here you are wasting it.”
Theo looked properly scandalized. “Why on Godric’s green earth would anyone drink coffee from a packet? You don’t have one of those—what do you call them—expression machines?”
“Espresso,” you corrected. “No, Theodore, I do not have an espresso machine because that would require electricity, which doesn’t really fit this castle’s medieval aesthetic.” You paused. “How do you even know about those?”
“I’m half Italian. How would I not know about espresso?”
“You called it expression.”
“Yeah, well, my nonna doesn’t have all of her teeth so sorry for pronouncing things incorrectly. If you don’t like it, take it up with that crazy old strega.”
You fought the urge to laugh. The little anecdote would not distract you from the mission. “Right, if you’re quite done insulting my taste in coffee, we should get to brewing.”
“You don’t have taste in coffee. That’s the problem.” You glared at him, causing Theo to sigh deeply. “That was for my countrymen. Go on, then. Show me what you’ve got so far.”
Theo watched silently as you lit your cauldron with a flick of your wand. Between you floated your advanced potions textbook, turning its own pages as you carefully followed the recipe. It didn’t matter that the instructions were so ingrained in your mind that Luna said that she’d heard you muttering it in your sleep. You were still going to follow the bloody book like it was your first brew.
The ingredients were simple. A sprig of wormwood. Two crushed newt spleens. Three blood slugs diagonally sliced with surgical precision. Four ashwinder eggs grinded into a fine powder. Most importantly, five crushed petals from the Angel’s Trumpet flower, which the draught derived its name from. Bring to a gentle boil. Wait precisely twenty minutes. Stir counterclockwise. Then clockwise again.
“It’s clockwise and then counterclockwise,” Theo declared, speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour.
“The book says the opposite.”
“I know what the book says.”
You brandished the ash stirrer in your right hand like a wand. “This wouldn’t be some clever ploy to take out your academic rival, would it?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “First of all, I prefer nemesis. Second of all, you’re the one more inclined to violence out of the two of us. If anyone should fear for their life in this room, it would be me.”
“Fair point. But how are you so sure the instructions are wrong?”
“Because this has never failed me.”
With that, Theo pulled out a small book from his pocket. It expanded as he touched it, nearly taking up half the table. The book was old, ancient even, with a worn leather cover that you highly suspected to be made of dragonhide. The title glowed with an eerie silver light.
Il grimorio della famiglia Marchesi.
The grimoire of the Marchesi family.
“Marchesi?” you asked in disbelief. “As in, the Marchesis of Triora?”
The Marchesis were an ancient wizarding family that traced their ancestry back to the small Italian village of Triora. The city of witches, they called it. Their most notable ancestor was Alessandra Marchesi. The young strega was much changed by the witch trials that had swept over her sleepy town during her childhood, but instead of shunning muggle influence, Alessandra embraced their queer traditions and used it to her advantage.
She tracked the inventions of her non-wizard counterparts diligently and reverse engineered it for magical purposes. The pages of her grimoire were said to be filled with invaluable knowledge. Alessandra invented potions, charms, and even hexes that helped shape the wizarding world as you knew it today. Her ideas birthed a sort of magical renaissance in the strenghe community.
Under her leadership, the Marchesi family produced some of the most powerful witches and wizards not only in Italy, but Europe as a whole. Some of them had even attended Hogwarts and were unsurprisingly sorted in your house.
Alessandra Marchesi was a visionary like no other and a legend amongst the Ravenclaws. Any one of your housemates would have killed to lay eyes on her grimoire.
And here it was, propped casually in front of you.
In the hands of Theodore Nott, of all people.
You stared at the worn yellow pages, eyeing the elegant script with such intense scrutiny that you almost went cross eyed. The writing was in Italian, but that didn’t stop you from devouring every word.
“I can’t believe that I’m reading the Marchesi grimoire,” you muttered to yourself. “Written by the Alessandra Marchesi herself.”
“I’m flattered that you’re so interested in my family.”
“The fact that you’re even related baffles the mind.”
Theo rolled his eyes and pointed at the bottom right hand corner of the page. Senso orario. Antiorario.
You knew enough Italian to realize that Theo was right. “Is this how you’ve been first in potions all this time?”
He gasped dramatically. “Your lack of belief in my skills is highly offensive, but not entirely unexpected, diavolina. The grimoire is helpful, but my nonna only recently bestowed this little family heirloom to me this past holiday. I’m afraid that I’ve been beating you with my own talents for years.”
You didn’t know if that disturbed or comforted you.
“Why share it with me?” you asked.
If the roles were reversed, you certainly wouldn’t. The grimoire gave Theo an edge that he could’ve easily kept to himself. As a Ravenclaw, your first instinct was to guard and covet knowledge in order to climb the academic hierarchy. There was very little you wouldn’t do to secure first place. Perhaps you were more similar to the Slytherins in that way.
“I thought the nerd in you might appreciate it,” Theo teased. “Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I was cheating. When I beat you once and for all, I want you to know that I did so out of my own superior abilities.”
“You’re incredibly smug, do you know that?”
“I’m confident in my skills,” Theo said nonchalantly, plastering on that ever snarky smirk. “In and out of the potions lab, principessa.”
He winked, which made you roll your eyes. “Now let the expert show you how it’s done.”
You tensed slightly as Theo approached from behind. He chuckled as his chest brushed against your back, effectively caging you in. “Relax, diavolina. I have no plans to ravish you in this lab again. At least not until the potion is properly brewed.”
A shiver skittered down your spine as you actively fought the urge to arch against him. Stupid hormones. Thanks to your ill advised romps, your body reacted to Theo’s touch against your will. You gripped the stirrer so tightly that it was one squeeze away from breaking.
“Gently,” Theo murmured as his right hand enveloped yours. He rested his left hand against your hip, rubbing soothing circles underneath your cable knit sweater. The action had the opposite effect. If anything, a different sort of tension brewed between you.
“Senso orario,” he said, reciting the instructions from the grimoire. Theo slipped his fingers between yours and stirred clockwise. Suddenly, the room felt much hotter than it had a second ago.
You were keenly aware of his fingers lightly gripping your waist and for a horrible, nauseating moment, you imagined what it would be like to have him strip off your skirt and rip the wool tights off your legs so you could feel those rough, calloused hands against your bare thighs.
“Antiorario,” Theo said after ten stirs. You startled, sweat dripping off your back as he reversed your movements. The mixture bubbled gently the more you stirred.
“Shall I put it in?” His breath fanned over your neck, making you feel even more overheated than you already were.
“What?”
Theo’s lips twitched. “The petals. Shall I put them in or would you like to do the honors?”
“I’ve got it,” you said rather quickly.
In your haste, you swiped the crushed petals off of the cutting board and dropped them into the draught. In the back of your mind, the instructions that you had so diligently memorized flashed like some horrible omen. Drop the petals one by one. You realized your mistake just as Theo pulled you towards him, shielding you from the cauldron. The entire thing roiled violently before spewing magenta down the back of Theo’s hoodie.
You watched in horror as pepto bismol pink dripped from his curls. “I mean, I know you’d do anything to be first in class, but blowing me to bits is a bit severe, don’t you think?”
“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, turning him over. “Are you alright?”
The back of his hoodie looked like Theo had been involved in a rather violent skirmish with a cotton candy machine, but he appeared unharmed otherwise.
He smirked. “It’s touching that you care so much about my well-being. However disconcerting it may be.”
“You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me, you idiot. That could’ve been so much worse. I will not have your death on my conscience, Theodore.”
“Funny,” he said as he pulled his hoodie off. It raised the shirt underneath as well, giving you an unfortunate glimpse of his toned abs. “I wasn’t aware you even had a conscience.”
“Fuck,” you cursed, completely ignoring his quip. “The grimoire.”
For an excruciating moment, your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. If anything happened to the grimoire, you never would have forgiven yourself. Fortunately, there seemed to be a protection charm over the entire thing, because it appeared completely unblemished despite the geyser that had spewed out of the cauldron.
“Oh thank Godric.”
“That old thing’s got about a million protective charms on it that are older than either one of us,” Theo reassured you. “The grimoire is impervious to your violence. I, however, am not.”
“Sit,” you commanded, pointing to a stool. “I’ll clean you up.”
“I’m perfectly capable of casting scourgify.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be done with magic. Besides, I thought you’d jump at the chance to have me at your beck and call.”
“Fair point,” Theo said, settling into his seat. “I wouldn’t mind being fussed over.”
It took a few minutes for you to tidy up the mess on the table. Using magic would’ve been easier, but cleaning had always helped to clear your mind. Sometimes you spent an entire day scouring your dorm from top to bottom. Your housemates thought it was strange since a simple spell would’ve done the trick, but it was more a mental exercise than anything else.
When you cleaned, it felt like your mind was being refreshed. Clearing out old thoughts, polishing new ideas, vacuuming unpleasant memories. It was vital to your sanity. You and Luna had bonded over it during first year. She was the only one who was willing to roll her sleeves up and get her hands dirty. It reminded you of doing spring cleaning with your mum and dad, whom you missed dearly. You had never really been away from them for this long until you came to Hogwarts.
You suspected that Luna knew that the obsessive cleaning had more to do with your homesickness than anything else, but you always appreciated the fact that she never pushed you to talk unless you offered.
Despite what others might say, Luna was a stellar example of what a Ravenclaw should be. Clever, intuitive, and witty without all the pretentiousness that most of your housemates seemed to proudly parade around with.
You thought fondly of your friend, who just this morning shot you a knowing look as you slinked off to the dungeons before anyone else awoke.
Give my regards to Theodore, she said with a faint smile.
The suspect in question regarded you with mild curiosity as you approached with a washcloth and basin. Even seated on the stool, Theo towered over you. The back of his neck was splattered with bubblegum pink and it dotted the sharp line of his jaw and even the cut of his cheekbones.
Theo watched in silence as you wiped away the remnants of the failed draught. He wore a neutral expression, but his shoulders were tense and his eyes flickered over you like he was analyzing your every move.
“If you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could’ve just said so,” he teased with a slight smirk. “No need for the assassination attempt, Y/N.”
“Trust me, Theodore. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
“Such a charming little bird,” he taunted. “Does that line work on the boys back home?”
You raised a brow. That was the second time he’d brought the subject up. “Why do you ask? Jealous that I might be directing my feminine wiles on anyone other than you?”
Theo scoffed. “No one else would be able to deal with your sparkling personality, diavolina.” Something flickered in those stormy eyes as you gently dragged the washcloth over his cheek. “I’m just curious as to what you’ve been up to this holiday. Haven’t you wondered what I was doing?”
“Contrary to your egotistical belief, I don’t spend every waking moment thinking of you. Besides, I figured you’d be doing something stereotypically rich like sailing around the Amalfi Coast and hunting dolphins for sport.”
“As opposed to spending the entire break memorizing Slughorn’s personal recommendations so you can recite obscure potion knowledge in class?”
You flushed, not bothering to deny the fact. Theo smirked. “I thought Uni was supposed to be more exciting than that. Shouldn’t you be getting smashed at pubs and taking strangers home?”
“Not all of us can afford the distraction,” you said with an eye roll. “Or venereal diseases. Why the sudden interest, anyways? Don’t tell me that you’re planning on applying to Oxford. I don’t think I could handle another three years of you, Nott.”
He wrinkled his nose. “If I were to attend university, it sure as hell won’t be at Oxford.”
“Gods, you sound like one of those posh snobs from Cambridge.”
“Cambridge is a world-renowned university with an excellent magical division.”
Your eyes widened as you came to the realization. “Merlin’s beard, you are one of those Cambridge snobs, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Theo crossed his arms. “I’m not a posh snob.”
“Theodore, you live in a bloody manor. I hate to break it to you, but you definitely wouldn’t be considered blue collar.”
“I don’t live there anymore. Not since…” Not since my father was sentenced to Azkaban for being one of the Dark Lord’s top Death Eaters.
“Right,” you said rather quickly. “Sorry—I—didn’t mean to—”
Theo patted your hand and grinned. “Oh don’t look so distressed, Y/N. I assure you I’m not living in squalor. Despite my father’s imprisonment, the ministry was kind enough to allow me to keep a flat in London.” You noted the hint of bitterness in his voice. “Though if you ask my nonna, she’d tell you that an Azkaban sentence would be preferable to the dreary English weather.”
That made you smile a bit. “I suppose the rain and muck is rather offensive to someone who’s used to the Italian sunshine.”
“You have no idea,” Theo muttered. “You’d think I dragged her to the States instead of Primrose Hill.”
“Primrose Hill?” You asked, scrunching your brows. “I don’t remember there being a wizarding neighborhood there.”
“There’s not,” Theo confirmed. “And I quite prefer it that way.”
There was an edge to his voice that told you not to press further.
“So, I gather that you and your nonna are close?”
“More like I’m the only grandchild that hasn’t disappointed her so far. Hence the grimoire.”
“Is Cambridge her idea or yours? I heard that they have an excellent Potions program. Second to Oxford, of course.”
The corner of Theo’s mouth quirked. “My mother’s, actually.”
You knew that his mother had passed when he was young. Not much was known about the circumstances of her death, but it was assumed that Theo had witnessed it since he was one of the few students that were able to see the thestrals.
“After she graduated from Hogwarts, mum went on to study potions at Cambridge. She used to take me to campus during her alumni events. One time I begged her to buy me a jumper from the stores and I wore that damned thing down to its last thread.”
There was a faraway expression on his face as he glanced out of the dungeon windows. The sunlight was barely starting to spear through the Black Lake, spreading a mosaic of colors across the potions lab. Theo looked contemplative. Pensive, almost.
On the surface, his playful nature was very much on display, but somewhere deep within, you could see a hint of sadness bleeding through. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment. Witnessing something that you weren’t supposed to see.
It was highly unnerving to say the least, so you deflected. “You know, Oxford and Cambridge have a deep seethed rivalry. It would be sort of poetic for us to end up on opposing sides again.”
For a split second, Theo appeared to be analyzing you like some undecipherable code. Like he knew you were giving him an out. The scrutiny in his gaze unnerved you. Then his expression changed, that familiar smirk falling firmly back in place. He slipped on that cocky arrogance like a mask.
You wondered how many times he’s done it without you even noticing.
“More poetic than reenacting the very first detention that led us here?”
Without meaning to, you glanced at the supply closet in the back of the room. Nearly a year ago, the two of you had been arguing about the best way to organize the crate of vials Snape had left for you when you finally pushed Theo against the wall and kissed him in order to shut him up.
You swallowed thickly just as Theo’s slender fingers curved around the back of your thighs. The barrier of your wool tights suddenly felt oppressive even though you’d worn them for warmth.
“What happened to not ravishing me until a successful brew?”
“Seeing as you’re entirely hopeless, we might be brewing for the remainder of the day,” Theo said as he pulled you against him. His lips ghosted against the column of your throat, smiling when he felt you shiver underneath him. “And I don’t think I can wait that long without a taste.”
“What if I say no?” you quipped.
He pressed soft kisses along your jaw in response. “That may be an even bigger miracle than you brewing the damn draught, but go ahead, little bird. I’d love to see you try.”
The two of you stared at one another. You were going to cave. Theo knew it. You knew it. If you were capable of saying no to the insufferable git, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Finally, you sighed.
“Fuck it.”
You pressed your lips against his, nearly toppling him over on the stool. He groaned against your mouth, walking you backwards to the supply closet. Theo lifted you up with ease and secured your legs around his waist, clearing the room in less than a minute.
A smirk tugged at your lips when he briefly pulled away to nip at your neck. “What?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your skin.
“You taste like pumpkin spice.”
There was nothing but pure hunger in his gaze as Theo nudged the door open with his foot. He set you down against a wooden slab before kneeling between your legs.
You shivered when those hypnotizing eyes flickered back up to you.
“Don’t worry, diavolina. I’ll taste like you soon enough.”
If someone held you at wand point and forced you to say one nice thing about Theodore, it would be that the boy knew how to eat pussy. He probably authored the manual on it. Nott did things with his tongue that defied the very laws of nature.
You whimpered as he flicked his tongue over your clit, circling not once but twice before lapping up your arousal like a man starved. When his slender fingers joined the mix, you could’ve sworn that you’d transcended reality all together. Theo remained transfixed on you even as he brought you closer to the edge, his forearm keeping your hips pinned down to keep you from arching against his mouth.
“Louder, principessa. I want to hear those pretty little moans when I make you come.”
The sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. “Oh god, oh my fucking god—“
“You can just call me Theo, you know.”
You laughed hoarsely as you pulled his hair. “Twat.”
“Oh, I’m quite enjoying yours at the moment.”
Whatever retort forming in your mind died on your tongue as his fingers curled inside of you, touching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. The orgasm was a blinding light, an exploding supernova that incinerated your nerves as Theo brought you to the edge. When you came with a cry, he gave your clit a harsh suck and crooked his fingers until you felt overstimulated. Theo had no intention of slowing down even as you spasmed underneath his touch.
“You didn’t think that was it, did you?” Theo teased, his mouth glistening with your arousal. “We’re just getting started, darling. I went a whole summer without tasting you and I’m warning you now. I’m fucking ravenous.”
“I can’t—I can’t take any more, please.”
He chuckled darkly. “I do love it when you beg, but I know you can take more. I’ve seen you do it. I want your legs to shake so badly that you won’t even be able to stand before I’m done with you, diavolina. Then and only then will I consider stopping. Do you understand?”
Your throat felt dry, but you nodded all the same. “You’re a sadist, Nott.”
“And you’re my little masochist," he said, smirking between your thighs. Danger flashed in those watercolor eyes. Theo was far from finished with you. "What a twisted pair we make.”
A shiver skittered down your spine as he yanked your hips towards him. “Now be a good little witch and spread those legs wide, dolcezza. We’re about to find out how many licks it takes to make a Ravenclaw scream.”
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a bloody affair
kinktober 2023 masterlist
milf!serialkiller!wanda maximoff x reader
18+: reference to blood and murder, smut; blood and knife kink, mommy kink, degradation, car sex, fingering, thigh riding, infidelity
a/n - kind of wanna do a sequel idk, there isn’t enough murder in this :( | wc: 1.8k
If you’d tried to imagine your first official meeting with your older neighbour, this wouldn’t have been it. You’d thought that perhaps - if it were to ever happen outside of your crush-fuelled thoughts - that it’d be something neighbourly. Feigning an excuse to finally knock on her door, maybe to borrow a cup of sugar or to offer to help mow her lawn.
In less than realistic ideas you’d conjured late at night, you’d thought of her knocking on your own front door, hair scraped back, chest on show from a low neckline, and a flirtatious smile on her lips. You’d pictured her with a faux innocence, telling you she’d locked herself out of her house and was oh so thirsty; you’d invite her in until her husband came home and she’d claim you as her own. She’d leave you breathless and yearning for more before heading home to her nuclear family with a peck to your lips and a promise of another visit.
But tonight, walking home from a friend's house through the wooded area not too far from the suburban street you shared, you saw her closer than you ever had before.
Not through her bedroom window, not across the street where she helped her twins out of her car. But right there, in front of you, standing over a lifeless body of a man you didn’t recognise.
Her chest heaved with ragged breaths as the back of her hand swiped at the sweat on her forehead whilst the other had the hilt of a kitchen cleaver in its grasp. You froze - of course - how else was one to react to such a sight? The perfectly pristine facade of the woman you harboured lusting feelings for had been blanched with red, it was an impossible scene to imagine bumping into.
Her head whipped in your direction at the unfortunate snapping of a twig beneath your shoe and the smirk that upturned the corner of her lips made your heartbeat pick up even more. Somehow, all thoughts of the immorality of the situation were pushed to the back confines of your mind and were overtaken by the sight of the woman walking towards you.
Her face was splattered with drying streaks of blood and her t-shirt was soiled all the same. You’d barely spared a glance towards the blood-soaked man lying nearby before she’d grabbed your arm harshly and dragged you to the car shed parked across the street.
You were silent with the stumbling steps you took as she dragged you behind her, opening the back car door to push you onto the leather seats. She climbed in after you and the proximity of the macabre woman made your stomach flip in anticipation; the dirtied blade of the cleaver ghosted the side of your neck while her dark eyes stared at you.
“You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Am I clear?”
“Yes,” you breathed with a nod, fearful and lusting all at once. To your surprise, as well as her own, you held little regard for the fact she’d just murdered somebody.
“Good girl.”
“What - who was he? Did he - have you done this before?” your words were embarrassingly stuttered and frankly you had little clue what to ask her. The casual air about her indicated this wasn’t the first time and somehow that only made her more attractive; the idea that this innocent housewife held such a dark and callous secret that only you are party to made the hairs on the back of your neck stand upright.
“I don’t know him,” she shrugged. “I’ve just seen him around, and no, this isn’t the first time.”
Her voice held little emotion. As though this were something completely ordinary. She was an enigma to you, ethereal, and somehow you needed her more than ever.
“So those missing men - those articles in the papers - it’s all you,” you stated, it was all adding up. You know you’ve seen her arriving home at odd hours isn’t the night - you thought, perhaps, she was having an affair, and though you were jealous of the mystery companion, you didn’t blame her. Anyone would stray from such a boring life, and it turns out, she’s chosen a much more extreme extracurricular hobby.
“Mhm,” Wanda nodded. “But you won’t say anything, will you baby? You don’t wanna get mommy in any trouble.”
You’d not noticed the bag of tools she kept in the footwell beside you. Not until you felt the knife she’d reached for brush across your cheek as she spoke; whether you were to agree with her or not, it didn’t seem you had much of a choice. With the edge of a blade pushed against you, disobeying the wants of the wielder doesn’t seem wise
You merely nodded in earnest. Your head swam in an unfamiliar way at what she’d called herself, at the metal on your warm skin, the hand that had found your waist, and your back that had somehow found the solidness of the car seats. You’re not sure when she’d got you laying beneath her with her knees trapping you but the heat of her body this close was more sublime than any late-night imaginings.
“I won’t say anything, mommy,” you whispered, you could hardly get your voice to be any louder what with every lusting emotion coursing through you.
“I knew you were a good girl,” she smiled, inching your shirt upwards until the knife stroked over your belly. “But I also knew that the good girl I see in her bedroom is less than innocent.”
You could hear the thump of your heartbeat as she spoke and you hissed slightly at the sting of a small cut she left on your rib.
“I’ve seen you bringing people home,” she muttered with a hint of jealous venom on her tongue as she watched the blood form on your skin. “I see you come back at night. I see you after a shower, undressing yourself for anyone to see. I know that you’re a little slut, y/n.”
The angered tone of her voice uttered your name like velvet, each syllable was made for her lips.
“I’ve just been waiting to finally put you in your place.”
You sighed out at the feel of her tongue licking at the cuts she’d left behind, each one slowly placed with a musing pressure and an entertained glint in her eye. And to know that she’d been wanting you as much as you’d craved her only made the kiss she pushed against your lips that much sweeter. You could taste your own blood; metallic and blanched with a heated tension.
You accepted the dominating push of her tongue and held the softness of her hips in your hands with your thumbs nudged beneath her shirt to feel her skin. You could feel the warmth of her body and each exhale of breath caused by fervent kisses; you felt the smile she let out at the way your body tensed at the painful touch she lay to your rib, melding it together with the pleasure of her teeth ghosting the line of your jaw.
The hand that made its way into your underwear was confident and Wanda was pleased, yet unsurprised, with the wetness of your cunt. She knew her pretty neighbour was worth the wait, that each time she’d thought of you as the only means to get her through a lacklustre night with her husband, was going to pay off eventually. She’d been waiting to sink her teeth into you.
“I’ve noticed you watching me, sweet girl,” she murmured as her fingers pushed into you. “I know you’ve been aching for me to fuck you, haven’t you?”
“Yes, mommy,” you nodded abashedly, feeling your cheeks burn with the teasingly slow movement of her digit’s curlings. “I’ve wanted this so badly.”
She merely offered a hum in return, deep and guttural with her fingers burying into your sex and her hips absentmindedly rutting into yours. Everything was hot and sensual, bodies heated, and the feel of drying blood you felt on her cheek only added to the flusteringly wanton situation.
Wanda reveled in the small sounds at the back of your throat as her thumb rubbed over your sensitive clit, responding perfectly to each touch and maneuver she gave you. The ridge of the seam of her jeans hit against her with each glide of her core against your thigh, stimulating her senses just enough to pull the coil in her stomach tighter and tighter.
You aided her movements, fingers in her belt loops whilst lips were still partaking in sloppy, breathless, wanting kisses. The sounds you’d let roam in the secret of your mind could never compare to the ones the woman let out above you; musings hadn’t given them justice and the way they fell onto your ears made your cunt clench around her digits. The stuttered moans and scattered mutterings of your name, peppered with murmurs of praise, made your heartbeat pick up tenfold.
Her free hand held up the weight of her body leaning against the window, handprint smudging a cleared space in the steamed-up glass; you’re sure it’d be somewhat of an alarming sight from the other side. But, with her lips ghosting your skin with kisses that grew less precise with each step closer to her release, it was nowhere near the forefront of your mind.
You knew there’d be marks where her teeth had harshly dug into your neck; where she’d painfully sucked at your flesh as you mewled beneath her. You knew you’d look at them fondly, remembering this night vividly until they fade. And Wanda knew she’d leave more soon, she was nowhere near through with you.
“Cum for your mommy, sweetheart,” she rasped above you, keeping her eyes on your glossed-over ones with merely the dim light of the moon to show the lust-blown hue that had taken over the sea glass of her own.
It took little more to pull you over the edge with a moan of her name at the sublime feeling; the way your back arched into her chest and the slick arousal that coated her fingers had the same pleasure washing over her too. She rode out her high with her clothed pussy pushing along your thigh and she could feel the way her underwear had dampened, making a mental note to have you taste her as soon as possible.
Wanda blissfully sighed at the taste of your cum on her fingers, sucking them into her mouth with her tongue swiping them clean. You watched as she did so, taking in the surreally beautiful sight on top of you until she kissed you again. This time was less desperate, slower, a translation of crushes long kept.
“I’d like for us to do this again,” she spoke, looking at you questioningly and almost with a hint of nervousness.
“I’d like that, Wanda,” you nodded.
“Come over tomorrow,” she stated. “Maybe you could accompany me with my nighttime hobby.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction
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