#THIS year i'll DRINK all my SORROWS AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilywastaken · 1 year

Text

⇝ midnight .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART ONE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: Simon makes the mistake of spending the night before one of the longest missions of his career in the arms of a woman he met at a pub, unaware of the consequences it would have on his life moving forward.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!) NSFW [ Oral (F receiving), Degradation, Praising, size difference/kink, dacryphilia, dumbification, slight bondage, frottage, unprotected P in V, overstimulation, various orgasms, creampie.], Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, kind of OOC Simon? He’s just soft when he’s not Ghost, Canon typical violence.

A/N: My first COD fic! It also happens to be the longest piece of writing I've ever done 😵! This is the first part of a series I've been planning on writing for a while, so I'll hopefully get the second part out soon! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the fic, it helps a lot!!! Thanks for all the support!! <3

WORD COUNT: 10.1k.

MASTERLIST.

Also on Ao3!

Going out wasn't one of Ghost's favourite things to do.

Even after getting back to his tiny flat in Manchester following a horribly long mission and shedding his mask, going back to the burly man his neighbours knew as Simon, some random guy who had moved in a few years ago and seldom stepped outside except for the random smoking session some of them would see him having on his balcony; he didn't enjoy going out.

So when he finally was able to relax onto his shitty leather sofa and catch up with some of the footy games he had missed while away, all he wanted more than anything was a good whiskey in his favourite (cleanest) glass.

And almost like a cartoon character staring at their empty wallet, Simon stared ahead at his liquor cabinet, jaw clenched as he spied at the remaining drops of alcohol that were left in the bottle, remembering the mental note he had made before leaving his flat the last time to get himself the alcohol he had chugged down during one of his depressive episodes.

So, in a fit of anger, he shoved on whatever clean clothes he could find in his duffle bag, skull balaclava pulled over his messy hair, and stomped down the stairs to the nearest Tesco…

…only to find it closed.

And fuck him if he was going to walk the extra hour to the nearest Morrison's just to get some shitty whiskey bottle to drown his sorrows in. At this point, he'd just go and sit in a corner of a pub, nursing what he would hope would be an acceptable liquor.

He was absolutely pissed by the time he made it into the homey bar, the universe having decided to make it it's personal mission to fuck him up today and making the worst storm possible start to rain upon Manchester.

Oh, and of course, the pub's tables were all full of teenagers (who definitely had fake IDs, no way they were all 18), and some old geezers who were shouting at the football game on TV (great, Manchester was loosing, another thing to worsen his night), leaving the only available seat one in the middle of the bar next to some woman chatting amicably to the waiter, who seemed a bit more interested in her cleavage than in what she had to say.

He slipped into the seat silently, his clear eyes death-staring into the bartender's, immediately scaring him shitless ("Yer about ta kill me with that look, Lt." Johnny had once joked about his murderous gaze, and to be fair, Simon was slightly hoping the scot would combust and die right there.), no doubt believing that he was with the woman and was about to punch his teeth in for staring longer than he should have.

As he scurried off into the back, you turned to him, taken aback at first as you made eye contact with the towering, wet, balaclava-clad man who was staring back at you, but you were brave enough to smile kindly at him, going back to running your finger over the rim of your drink, which Simon noticed was still and hardly drank out of, despite the lipstick smudges around the top. You'd been here a while, and by the way your leg was nervously jumping up and down as time passed by, he could only assume you'd been stood up.

Now, Simon wasn't dumb, far from it; and Simon was smart enough to recognize when someone was attractive, and he was pretty sure that the woman in front of him was drop-dead gorgeous despite the sad look that adorned your features. So, if he was correct, he couldn't even begin to fathom how someone could even start to think of standing up a woman like you, especially after inviting her to this shitty pub, where the food had definitely given him food poisoning before.

He hadn't realised how deep in thought he must have been while staring at your glass until a soft hand rested against his bicep, eyes instantly flashing back towards yours, instincts haywire from having been pulled out from his thoughts so suddenly.

"Sorry!" You immediately retracted your hand from his arm, smiling apologetically up at him before turning your gaze back to the golden liquid. "I asked if you were okay. I can't imagine walking around in a storm with just that on." You gestured towards his shirt, allowing Simon to look down and stare at the tight T-shirt he had chosen to wear, a few dirt stains decorating it in the worst way possible, having dressed for the occasion that was a 10pm trip to Tesco and not meeting up with a pretty woman at a pub.

"Wasn't planning on walking 'round." He grumbled out, his voice deeper than what you had expected, the thick accent and scratchy sound of it making shivers run down your spine and heat pool into your stomach, becoming horrified with yourself that you allowed such a minimal thing like a masked man's voice get you all hot and flustered like this.

"'Nd you? Doesn't seem like you're dressed for a night out at the Crown's." His eyes moved towards your dress, surprised with himself that he had actively been the one to continue the conversation; his thick hand reaching over to grab his drink from the bartender's hand (which he must have ordered during the haze he had been in before.) as he awaited your answer.

"Oh." He watched you smooth down your hair out from the corner of his eye, your hands shaky as they found comfort around the fancy glass of your whiskey. Or was it bourbon? Maybe rum? You seemed like the type of woman to appreciate a good glass of liquor. "Yeah, 'm waiting for someone."

He watched your eyes dart over to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you both, the little hand nearing the number 11.

"Could've taken you somewhere nicer." He commented, taking a jab at both the pub and your missing date, the small breathless chuckle that left your lips catching his attention.

"Yeah. Not like I expected a reservation at the Ritz, but somewhere that doesn't look like my grandad's favourite pub would be nice." You joked over the sound of some of the old men cheering in the background over some team scoring a goal, and while Simon would've normally turned around to make sure it had been Manchester, he was too focused on the mesmerising way your eyes looked in the dim light, your eyelashes fluttering innocently as you continued what had started as small talk, that evolved into friendly conversation and him buying you another drink, and that ended with him waiting for you outside the bathrooms, holding onto your tiny umbrella.

Simon wasn't one to frequent in hook-ups, but how enticing you had been when talking to him, the way your body looked in that dress and how you'd brushed your soft hand against his bicep (this time with another intent other than to snap him out of his stupor), had left him wanting, nay, craving more from you.

So when you looked out the window behind him before gesturing to the small umbrella hanging from your bag and asked if he wanted to take you home, he would have been demented to deny you.

His screen's brightness lit up his face as he scrolled over the scarce messages he had received across the almost 10 years he had had this crappy phone, about to delete Soap's number before you came out, a smile on your face and makeup freshly applied.

"Some girls helped me with my makeup in there." You commented happily, fingertips brushing over the blush that had been applied to the apples of your cheeks, which made you somehow look even more enticing than before. "I didn't have time to look in the mirror, but I hope it looks okay."

"Looks nice on you." He let out after processing your new look, his chest tightening as your smile somehow widened and your eyes brightened, having learned across the few hours you had spent together that Simon wasn't really one to show his emotions towards anyone, so a short compliment like that was a big step.

"You think?" You didn't wait for an answer, your hand finding his and starting to lead him out of the shadowy corner he had taken refuge in while your time in the bathroom, letting him push open the exit door so he could open up the umbrella, not caring about the raindrops falling onto him and darkening his clothes, the rain getting caught onto his eyelashes like morning dew on a spiders web, the beautiful orbs drawing you in like a butterfly happily flying into a spider's nest.

The umbrella was open and poised on top of you before you could even step out of the pub, Simon doing his best so you wouldn't be touched by the rain, aware of how uncomfortable some people got when it came to water running down your back or touching your face (especially when you looked so so pretty with your make-up.). Along with his massive frame walking next to you, you were pretty sure there was no way a single drop of water would touch your skin the whole way back home.

Which ended up being almost silent, you leading the way and commenting on random stores or things you passed, brightening up every time you got a chuckle out of him and melting whenever his hand would wrap around your waist as you passed some creepy man or a suspicious-looking group of teens, pulling you into his side so no one would even think of messing with you.

You were highly aware of how dangerous it was in hindsight to take some random man home (whose face you hadn't even seen yet!), but Simon made you feel safe, special, in some weird way… like as long as you were in his vicinity, nothing could happen to you, nothing could harm you. And you wanted to cling onto that feeling, onto the feeling of protection and warmth that Simon extruded.

So you didn't think twice about it, even as you slipped the key into the front door to your apartment complex and stood next to him the whole elevator ride up to your floor, his hand curled around yours with his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, the soft action enough to make heat pool into your tummy and your panties, getting worked up over casual affection from the breathtaking man.

"Y'sure about this, lovie?" His raspy voice made you fumble with your keys as he came up behind you, watching you struggle to unlock your flat as his breath hit your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will. Last chance."

Your breathing grew shaky as his own warmed your cheek, the way he worded it making it seem like the act you were both about to perform was something akin to letting a beast free, and even if it was, as long as Simon was the one to do it, you would have let him do anything.

"Yes." You managed to get out as your door finally opened, not even getting the time to take a step in before his hands were all over you, pushing you into the apartment and slamming the door closed behind him with his foot, his balaclava somehow being pulled up to his nose, high enough so you could gaze upon his soft pink lips and the blond stubble that adorned his chin and slightly crooked nose, aware that you would have spent hours tracing his features with your eyes, engraving them to memory, but he took away any thoughts away from you as he slotted his lips with yours.

You learned immediately that Simon's kisses were desperate, sloppy, needy. The way his hands gripped at your hips and his teeth nibbled onto your bottom lip, tongue running over yours as he trailed his palms down your thighs onto your feet, wrenching off your heels and ripping apart your tights, ignoring the angered whine that left your lips.

"Easier access, lovie." He murmured against your lips, finally pulling back with a sleazy grin on his lips, a string of spit connecting you both before breaking, allowing you a bit of time to catch your breath while he took in your living room, staring at the doors. "Bedroom?"

"Th- That one-" You hazardly pointed towards one of the doors behind you, squealing out loud as he grabbed you effortlessly and started to carry you towards your room, thighs pressed to his sides and ankles crossed behind his back, making sure to cling onto him so he wouldn't randomly drop you (Although by the way his muscles barely tensed when he had picked you up, and how easily he seemed to navigate around while carrying you made you think that there was no way he'd let you fall.)

Your back finally hit your familiar soft mattress, hands clenching onto your silk sheets as he watched you like a hawk, hands resting on the space of your thighs near your now-dripping cunt, thumbs rubbing into the soft pudge.

"Fuck… Just look t'you." He rumbled out, your cheeks growing warm as he continued to stare without moving, enjoying the way you started to squirm beneath his touch. "Calm, lovie, jus' taking my time wiv' you."

You mewled out at the deep tone his voice took, thighs threatening to close as one of his hands made his way towards your clothed cunt, which had been made accessible thanks to your now-ripped tights that had been left behind in the living room.

Simon forced your thighs back open with a grunt, glassy eyes darkening as he watched your own hands come up to cover your face out of embarrassment, letting himself soak in it for a moment before finally starting to act.

"Lean up f'me." You obeyed immediately, trembling under his touch as he slowly pulled your dress off, letting it pool onto the floor along with his shirt, which he had quickly gotten rid of as soon as you were in your lingerie. His eyes roamed the lace for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle, looking up at you to find you ogling at his scarred chest, almost drooling at the sight of his well built pecs and stomach. "Tryin' to get lucky tonight?" He spoke, fingers snapping your bra strap, thinking back to why you were originally at that pub in the first place.

"Shut up." You grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up the bed so you could continue kissing him, having been left craving more ever since that breathtaking one in the foyer.

He didn't complain, quickly indulging you as he slotted his lips with yours once again, his kiss as sloppy as needy as before, openly moaning against them as your hands run under his balaclava to pull at the short strands of his coarse hair, his own hands wrapping your thighs around his waist so your clothed pussy could grind against the hard material of his trousers over his hardened cock, rejoicing in the way your moans and whines sounded as he drank them up.

"S'needy." He chastised softly as he pulled away, moving you both towards the top of the bed so you could rest your head on your pillows, catching your breath while he started slipping off his belt and trousers (the belt being placed on the bed, just in case), and letting you gaze upon the tent in his boxers, shivering at the monstrous sight of his cock, trying to imagine how in the living fuck would he fit inside you if he couldn't even fit properly in his boxers, pulling out a moan from your lipstick smudged lips at the simple thought of being fucked by such a tool.

"Like it?" He chuckled, slowly starting to lean down with his hands on your thighs, pulling one of them over his shoulder so he was face to face with your covered cunt, his breath warm as it hit your clit, making you whine. "Gunna let me have a taste?"

"Y-Yes, god, yes, Simon, please-" You breathed out all at once, desperate for his touch after the slow teasing, watching what was visible of his face scrunch up in mock laughter as he revelled in your whines.

"As you wish, lovie."

He didn't even bother pushing your panties aside before taking a lick of your cunt from bottom to top, pressing soft kisses to your clit to hear your desperate whines and feel your thighs shake beneath his touch, continuing to slowly make out with your clothed pussy, purposefully driving you insane with his limited touches.

"Off, off, pl-please, Si, please -" You whined, pushing his head away in an attempt to start to pull your panties down, crying out in frustration as he didn't budge, a growl leaving his lips and sending vibrations up your cunt.

"Don't touch. I'm taking my fucking time, pretty. Or would you rather me stick my cock into you without any prep?" You moaned out loudly at the thought, back threatening to arch as he slowly grasped at your panties, a humourless chuckle leaving his pretty lips. "Yeah, I bet your slutty pussy'd love that, wouldn't it, lovie?" He purred before finally sliding down your pants, taking a moment to stare at your cunt and let you squirm before slowly spreading your thighs again, immediately shoving his face into his prize and repeating his movements from before, but faster and rougher, letting you feel every inch of his tongue as it ran over your lips and slowly inched inside of your hole, your moans and silent screams only edging him further on until he took your engorged clit into his mouth and started sucking, placing a hand on your stomach and pushing your arching back down onto the mattress.

He was surprised, to say the least. Yes, he'd realised you were sensitive as soon as he had kissed you for the first time, but he hadn't expected you to almost burst into tears from being eaten out (He wasn't even /trying/ to make you cry, he wondered what would happen if he did.), so he wondered if all the men you'd been with before had gone down on you, but by the way you were reacting to such simple touches, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"So fuckin' sweet, baby." He murmured into your pussy as he let go of your swollen clit, giving your hole some attention as the hand that was on your tummy ran down to circle your clit, overstimulating you in the best way possible. "Taste like fuckin' heaven."

"Si- Simon-" you whined his name out so so sweetly, music to the normally cold lieutenant's ears. "Gonn- Fuuuck! 'Na cum! Please, please, Si, need to-"

"S'okay, let go for me, lovie." He basically purred into you as he continued licking contently at your gushing hole, fingers tactically rubbing on your clit, before changing spots, taking your clit back into his mouth and letting his fingers slip in to you, preening at the sweet gasp that left your lips at the sudden intrusion, his coarse fingers moving in and out and immediately finding that one spot that made your back arch and toes curl, and just as he was taught in the military, he took advantage of the weak spot (in this case, your sweet spot.) and didn't stop brushing his fingers against it, the increasing sound of his name alerting him of your upcoming orgasm.

And once the coil within your stomach snapped and Simon finally let your back arch of the bed, your release gushing out of you and coating his hand and wrist, you let out the loudest moan of his name, the sound immediately going to his painfully hard cock, but he didn't stop, tongue not ceasing its assault on your clit and fingers continuing to rub against your g-spot until you finally came down from your high, brain mushy and eyes glassy as you stared up at the cream ceiling.

"Such a good girl." He purred out as he finally stopped, retracting his wet fingers and taking them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and cleaning off all of the slick you had left from your orgasm, savouring it like he would with a lollipop. "Fuckin' taste amazing."

You whined in response, the embarrassment from having cummed so fast and having to watch him lick up all your release finally catching up to you, shaky hands moving to cover your sweaty face.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing them before they could cover your pretty features and holding them together in one hand.

"No, baby. Don't want you fuckin' hiding f'me." He snapped, slowly pulling them upwards so that they were pinned against the headboard, his other hand moving to gather the belt he had discarded not so long ago, quickly taking advantage of your cum-lax state to wrap it around your wrists, making sure it was tight enough to constrict you, but not tight enough to hurt, and letting you lie there while he started on getting rid of his boxers. "Wanna see that pretty face while you come undone on my cock. Isn't that what y'want too?"

You tried moving your head to nod, but it felt so so heavy that even the slightest movement felt like a chore, feeling grateful that Simon was a man able to move you around and dominate you without even breaking sweat, that all you needed to do was lie back and enjoy everything he gave you.

"Fuckin' hell. Not even fucked ya yet and you're 'lready gone?" He sneered, coming to hover over you so he could press wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, purposefully avoiding your lips. "Pretty girl gets her pussy played wiv and turns into a right proper slut, don' she?" He purred against your neck, his words making you shiver and squirm as your body instinctively tried to move away from the stimulus, only for him to pull you back towards him with grubby hands, a loud gasp leaving your lips as he pressed your crotches together, having expected the soft cotton of his boxers and not the hard, hot feeling of his cock flush against your dripping pussy.

"Oh- Oh my god, Simon, th-"

"Mm." He cut you off with a soft purr and a nip to your jugular, no doubt making sure that you'd wake up in purple marks the next morning as he did the same all over your neck. "'S me. All me, lovie. F'you."

You moaned at the implication, slowly starting to grind yourself against him as he made it his personal mission to cover your upper body in kisses, stopping at your clavicle and staring down at your bra, that was still to be taken off.

"Fuck, forgot all 'bout these." His hand came up to squeeze one of them softly, a small sound of pleasure leaving your lips at the added stimulation as you continued to rub your cunt against his hardened cock. "Pretty little things."

He started grinding his own hips against yours, watching with amazement at how quickly you reacted to his touch, your back arching enough for him to slip his hands behind and unclasping your bra suspiciously easy, pulling it off and throwing it behind him and landing god knows where, and leaving you finally completely bare beneath him.

"Look t'you." His warm hands immediately cupped your tits, thumb and pointer rubbing your nipples between them, pinching and pulling until they were hard, an amazed chuckle leaving his lips as he listened to your moans increase in sound, his grinding against you not ceasing either.

"Oh fuck- fuck fuck!" It was embarrassing, how quickly he had you whining and mewling beneath him, when you had found yourself struggling before to even feel something with men before him doing the same. It was just something about him, something about the way he sounded and touched, the precise movements against you, almost like he had been trained for your pleasure, to get you over the edge as many times as he could muster before even getting his dick wet.

Because the instant you felt his warm breath hit one of your perky breasts, you knew you were fucked, headed towards your second orgasm of the night. His warm mouth enveloped your hard nipple, pulling and tugging with his teeth and soothing the slight pain he left with his talented tongue, his grinding becoming quicker and rougher as he felt your thighs tremble around his waist, your eyes watering as you neared the release you oh so craved, gasping out loud as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your flushed skin.

"You gunna cry, baby? S'okay, let it out. Let it out f'me." He growled as he let go of your now throbbing nipple, moving to give your other neglected breast the same attention, hand leaving your face to run down to your core and slowly run over your clit, a huge contrast to the rough movements of his cock against you and his warm mouth on your nipple, all the different stimulations and feelings enough to push you over the edge and let the tears that had been collecting in your waterline finally fall, gasping moans and screams leaving your lips as you soaked his cock, body trembling beneath his ministrations as he chuckled against your nipple, enjoying the way you were slowly falling apart and he hadn't even pushed into you yet.

He didn't stop for a few moments, waiting until the moment where you would inevitably start whining and pushing him off with weak arms to cease, leaning back up with a shit eating grin as he waited for you to come down from your high.

"Oi, look at me." He taps one of his fingers on your face, moving your gaze towards his, a small, patronising pout tugging at his lips as he watches the tears roll down your cheeks. "Poor thing. You all fucked out yet? D'you think y'could still take my cock? Or are you too dumb f'that right now?"

"Y-yes, yes, please, please, need it so bad, Si! So so bad!" You stuttered out between laboured breaths, hands struggling against their binding, itching to be let free and feel his cock in your hands, which you could see between you, almost as girthy as a coke can and with a few prominent veins leading up to his flushed red tip, that was leaking pre spend you would gladly pay money to clean up with your tongue. "O-oh fuck, Simon, please -"

"Sh, shh. Calm down, y'little crybaby." He chastised, leaning down to softly press kisses over the tears that had gathered on your flushed cheeks, chuckling at how desperate you looked under him. "I'll give you what you want. Gon' fuck you so well, yeah? You'll feel me f'weeks, lovie."

"Fuck, yes, please! Want your cock so badly, please!" You cried, legs immediately spreading for him as soon as his calloused hands landed on the pudge of your thighs, slightly digging his fingers into them as he took in the beautiful sight of your soaking wet pussy, having half the mind to shove his cock in you without a second thought. But no.

"Calm." He snapped, one of his hands dropping your thighs and slapping your face softly to get your attention. "Protection, baby. You got a condom?"

He frowned as you shook your head, gasping for breath as you pointed over to your nightstand, where he could faintly see the glint of a packet of tablets in the dark. "Pill. 'M on the pill, Si. Clean. I'm clean."

He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips at the thought of being able to cum inside, and how eager you were acting to get him to finally stick his cock inside, whines and whimpers pulling him from his thoughts as he stared down at you.

"You going to let me cum inside then, lovie?" He teased, pulling your other thigh back up so the underside of both of them were resting flush against his bare chest, twitching cock resting on your overstimulated core. "Don' think I'm gonna be able to pull out."

"Don't want you to, fuck! Please, Simon, please!! Inside, want you to cum inside!"

A shiver racked through his body at your words, carefully letting one of your legs go and making sure it would stay there, wrapping around it to grab his cock, slowly sliding the head around your puffy lips to collect the slick, wanting the intrusion to be as painless as possible.

"Fuck… Alright, baby, alright. Breathe f'me." He whispered, letting the head of his cock press against your hole, telling himself to go slow and calm down, but by the way you were pulsing and clenching around the head, almost like you were pulling him in, made it hard to stay sane. "God, slutty lil' cunt's just swallowing me in, huh? Want this cock that bad?"

Your hands shook against their restraint as he started to push himself into your sopping hole, wanting nothing more than to grab onto something for stability, but you didn't want to risk him getting annoyed at you for trying to.

"S'okay, almost there." He mumbled, lying straight through his teeth because with one look down to where he was connected to it would prove that he wasn't even halfway in, and it was already proving difficult for your hole to accommodate to his massive size.

"S'big, Si, you're so biiig." You whined, spreading your legs slightly and pushing your body onto him to help, shivering as you could feel him start throbbing inside of you, no doubt needing his own climax after having spent so much time focusing on you.

You could feel your eyes start to flutter close, mouth dropping open as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls flush against your ass and cock throbbing inside of you, taking a breather and letting you adjust to his size before he would start on his ruthless pace.

"Fuck, lovie, you droolin'?" He panted, a hand coming up to rest against your face and pull you out of your sex-drunk haze (Despite only getting his cock inside you now.), your eyes drowning in his crystal ones, hypnotised by his gaze as he used his thumb to rub away some of the drool that had dribbled down your chin. "Pretty girl finally gets some cock and turns into a drooling slut, huh?"

You let out a noise of complaint as your hands continued to struggle, the few coarse hairs that were peeking out from under his mask enough to make you want to bury your fingers in them, pull at his strands and dig your nails into his scalp as he rocked your world.

He seemed to to understand what you wanted, a chuckle leaving his swollen lips as he leaned over you, legs folding along with him and allowing him to reach a deeper point in your cunt you didn't know that existed, a loud moan escaping you as his calloused hands start undoing the belt, finally letting your wrists free and throwing the piece of leather away, his hands going back to holding onto one of your thighs and another gripping your waist.

"All yours, baby. All fuckin' yours."

He gave you a moment to react as he bottomed out, leaving you empty for a split moment before he slammed back in, cock head almost instantly hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, your hands immediately finding refuge on his shoulders, nails digging into the scarred skin as he repeated his ruthless thrusts, your body shaking beneath his as he pushed down onto your body, forcing you both into a mating press, your cunt tightening around his cock at the sight of his eyes rolling into the back of his head, tummy fluttering at the thought that he was enjoying this as much as you were.

"Fuck, so good, Simon! So fucking good!" Your hands trailed up to the nape of his neck and pulled at the few short hairs there, urging a growl out of him and causing him to slightly speed up, the head of his cock at this point abusing your g-spot, urging you to near your third orgasm. "Wan- Wanna cum, fuck, gonna cum, Simon!"

"Already, baby?" He spoke through bated breath, his stamina allowing him to keep a good and consistent pace, enough to please both of you and almost bring you to tears again. "That's okay, cum for me, lovie. Cum on my fucking cock, show me how much of a fucking whore you are f'me."

Your back arched, pressing your breasts to his sweaty chest, the extra stimulation from your nipples rubbing against his coarse skin finally pushing you over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his cock and making it near impossible for him to continue thrusting, but as the good soldier Simon was, he persisted, rutting into you with bared teeth and a clenched jaw, fucking you through your orgasm until your slick covered his balls and upper thighs.

"Good girl, good fucking girl." He rasped, hand moving from your waist up to your neck, giving an experimental squeeze and moaning as you clenched around him, a breathless chuckle leaving him. "Fuck, you're still clenchin' around me so nicely, love. Feel so fuckin' good, perfect lil' pussy all f'me..."

Simon was saying nonsense at this point, becoming near pussy drunk as his cock hammered into your puffy cunt, nearing his own peak after all the foreplay.

"Si- Simon-!" You keened, hands running under his mask to grasp at his hair properly, pulling at it to coax another guttural moan from him and leading him back down to engage in a messy kiss, teeth clanking together and spit being shared, feeling the desperation he was in as he continued to batter your pussy searching for his own orgasm. "Cum, please, please, cum inside!"

Simon's eyes rolled into the back of his head at your begging, eyelashes fluttering as his pace stuttered inside of you, cockhead pressing against the entrance to your cervix and finally going over the edge, his spend gushing into you and almost immediately filling you, his cock acting like a plug inside you.

"O-oh, fuuck…" He moaned out, voice going slightly high pitched as he relished in the euphoria of finishing inside of you, his nails leaving ten moon shaped indents on your hips, the pain nothing compared to the feeling of him finally fucking his spend into you, you'd have to worry about the inevitable bruises and marks in the morning before work. "Fuck, you're… fuck."

Simon lowered himself down, resting his sweaty balaclava-clad face on your shoulder as you both caught your breaths, his cock twitching inside of you as he rode the waves of his orgasm.

Your eyes were blown out, staring up at the ceiling as you were hit with a sudden wave of realisation, your brain finally catching up with your body and taking in everything that had just happened, especially the fact that you had allowed some masked man you'd met at a pub on a tinder date to ravage you like a starved animal.

"Oh my god." You said, voice wavering as you shivered beneath the mountain of a man, who's sweaty body was pressed flush to yours, his cock softening inside of you as you both started to sober up. "O-Oh my god, Simon."

He let out a moan against your skin, languidly thrusting one final time into you before slowly pulling out, peeling himself off of you and letting the cold air envelop your now-shivering body, the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your puffy cunt pulling out another broken whine from your lips.

"Look at that…" You tried moving away as Simon ran a finger down your spent hole, gathering his cum best he could before slowly shoving it back into you, clicking his tongue at your reaction before leaning down and pressing a final kiss to your clit, the loud cry that left you making him smile almost predatorily. "So, so pretty, baby."

Your eyelids fluttered closed as you felt the bed shift beneath Simon's moving weight, allowing you time to set your head on straight and think about the next words that were going to come out of your mouth (That weren't strangled moans of the blond's name and jumbled cries about how good he felt.) while he moved around, no doubt getting his discarded clothes so he could slip away into the night.

"...leavin'?" You finally mustered out, letting your head fall to a side so you could watch him pick up his boxers and slip them on, his balaclava fixed into place like it had been when you met him, leaving you to stare into his mysterious blue eyes, the only gateway into the man who had just finished ravishing you.

"..." He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes trailing over your shivering frame as he fought internally over your words.

Ghost knew that it would be dangerous to stay, to indulge in your touch and show himself to you in one of his most vulnerable states. He didn't know you outside of the few hours he had spent with you, and even with that, it wasn't enough for Ghost to let his guard down around you.

Simon wanted to stay, he wanted to climb back into bed and let you curl into his side, let his warm hands run up and down your warm skin like he had done while pleasuring you, listen to your snores and even breathing. And despite probably not being able to fall asleep himself, Simon knew that it would be one of the few tranquil nights of his life.

So despite Ghost's alarming protests ringing in his head, Simon slowly made his way into the empty spot of your bed next to you, the covers soft and cool against his heated skin, soothing the raging fire that seemed to boil inside of him at the mere sight of you, his large arms wrapping around you and pulling you towards his side of the bed.

As soon as your bare body made contact with his, you melted like ice cream on a hot day, curling into his side and allowing him to wrap his tattooed arm around you, calloused hands running up and down your sides, taking his sweet time memorising every curve and dip of your body as you rested your head onto his chest, ear pressed right above his rapidly beating heart.

Not one word was exchanged between you both the whole time you lied together, his fingers tracing every little nook and cranny of your skin he could find, stopping every once in a while to rub on a tense muscle or over a scar, the soft ministrations swiftly lulling you to sleep.

The hand that you had splayed on his chest was mimicking his movements, fingers running over the blond hair that adorned his chest, playing with the small cross that dangled from the small chain necklace around his neck. Every time his hand would come up to rub at your shoulders, you caught a peak at the many tattoos that sleeved his arm, and as much as you wanted to turn around and commit all of them to memory, every time you tried to move, he'd press you closer, as if he knew that if he did allow you to, you'd only put off sleeping for longer.

As your eyelids started drooping, you felt his other hand come up to rest over your smaller one, toughened fingers intertwining with your own softer ones, a tired smile forming at your lips before finally clocking out, his heartbeat a firm rhythm that pulled you further and further into the soft grasp of Hypnos.

As expected, Simon didn't sleep a wink.

He had tried to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth you radiated, trying his best to let your soft snores and murmurs lull him to sleep, but it was impossible.

Despite not having slept for more than two days, he was unable to fall asleep, on edge after the catastrophe that was his last mission.

That was one of the reasons he had decided to step out of his comfort zone and allow himself a night of indulgence with you, a night of letting himself go and take out all his anger on you, but he had been impuissant to hurt you or even come close to actually wound you, instead taking it as slow as he knew how to and muttering soft praises and sweet nicknames into your ear along with the degradation that he'd mixed in.

And even after tiring himself out, he still couldn't let himself fully relax.

But as he turned his head to look down at your sleeping face, he thought that maybe this wasn't so bad. He felt… at ease, for the first time in a while. No strident alarms to wake him up at the crack of dawn, no ringing in his ears as a grenade went off near him, no desperately patching up a wound and drenching his hands in blood, no screams and pleas of mercy reverberating around his head as he disposed of the enemy.

None of that. It was just you. With your body curled into his side and your soft skin beneath a killer's hands.

Which is why he wished he could stay there forever. Lock the door and have you in his arms for the rest of his life, without the paranoia and the horrors that followed him everywhere he went, only focus on you and how mushy you made him feel with only a few hours of knowing him.

Which is why he wished he could have just fallen asleep and ignored the vibrations that came from beneath his discarded clothes, that he didn't leave your side and pick up the phone, that he hadn't followed orders like he always did and hadn't left you alone.

He carefully tucked you in, making his side of the bed before hesitantly brushing his scarred knuckles against your flushed cheeks, an alternative to the kiss he oh-so wanted to press down onto you until you woke up, until you asked him to stay, until he caved in and left the 141 to fend for themselves.

But he didn't.

He closed the door to your bedroom, slipped his phone and keys back into his pockets and headed towards the front door, ready to leave you behind and go back to being Ghost.

But as his hand reached for the doorknob, his eyes caught onto a stack of fluorescent yellow sticky notes on the kitchen counter, and in a stroke of not so genius, he grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled down his number onto the piece of paper, signing it with a simple "S .", hoping that you'd deduce it was from him, and not from some random person whose name started with the letter S that had broken into your apartment just to give you their number.

He stuck it a bit too aggressively to the almost bare fridge, making sure it was in a visible spot that you wouldn't be able to miss before finally stepping out of your flat, adjusting his mask in the elevator's mirror and going back to the cold hearted killer his fellow soldiers knew as Ghost.

He'd expected it to be a short mission.

One that they'd be able to finish within two weeks at best so he could go back to his cramped flat in Manchester and hopefully get back to you.

He'd spent almost every day of the first week of his departure wondering if you'd found the note, if when he'd retrieve his phone back from his locker back at base, he'd find a few messages from an unknown number he hoped was yours, asking him how he was, asking him to meet up again, wondering if he was okay…

That's what mostly kept him going for the first few days.

Until it all went haywire.

The mission escalated quickly into a mess of soldiers and betrayals, flying from place to place and taking more lives with his bare hands than he had ever before.

Blood soaked his hands in a way it never had, the toll of deaths on his name increasing with every passing day, week, month, year.

When the mission that had started off as something simple, something Ghost couldn't even remember, ended after a year, the 141 couldn't be more relieved. And exhausted.

They'd fought for many months straight, barely finding places to get a wink of sleep, and sometimes even running out of food while they camped out in one of the dingy safe houses of whatever city they were currently stranded in.

But it was finally over. Their target had been disposed of and any enemy that remained had either been eliminated or had scurried off.

As the chopper brought them back to base, none of them said a word, even Johnny refrained from making any jokes, knowing that it would only piss off both of his superiors and maybe get a tired chuckle out of Gaz.

Price uttered a "Good job." to all of them before patting them on the shoulder and going to his office, no doubt ready to go back home and have the sleep of his life.

The two sergeants withheld from talking too much to their lieutenant, murmuring a goodbye to him before going their own way, Ghost not even bothering to answer, too mentally and physically exhausted to even open his mouth to speak.

The first thing he did once he reached his locker was throw the goddamn mask off, letting the plastic skull clatter against the tiles as he rummaged through his belongings, wanting nothing more than to get into some clean clothes and go back home, where he would drink away the horrors that would no doubt follow him and probably pass out watching reruns of football games he had missed.

The clothes he had worn the day before the mission were tighter, accentuating the change in his physique after putting his muscles to work for a whole year, the seams of his trousers digging uncomfortably into his legs, his pockets full of random junk he had left in there.

He fished for whatever was currently pressing against his backside, pulling out his small phone from the pocket, frowning down at the gadget, which was no doubt out of battery after being left for so long.

Simon was pleasantly surprised when the screen brightened, showing his black lock screen and the time, the battery hanging onto dear life with a 1%. He moved to grab his charger, his eyes still trained on the incoming notifications that would soon flood his home screen, not really expecting much aside from the emails entailing rubbish deals or the occasional spam from a porn site he'd signed up to as a teen and hadn't been able to delete.

Instead, he was bombarded with over a thousand notifications at once, all from the same unknown number, the messages going too quickly for his tired eyes, focusing on the random words he was able to take from the rapidly passing texts.

‍

Answer.

Ignoring.

Asshole.

Appointment.

Doctor.

Pub.

Baby.

Pregnancy.

‍‍

His mind blocked itself off as he processed the last word, trying to make sense of all the confusing messages that had been sent to his phone.

Had it been by accident? Was he the recipient of some prank? Had he unknowingly given out his number to someo-

You.

Simon's throat went dry as the realisation dawned on him. Without sparing another second, he unlocked his phone, clicking onto the notifications and scrolling down as fast he could while still intaking information, afraid that his phone would die out at any point in time and render him utterly confused and terrified.

His body went on autopilot the more he read, brain fuzzy as if he had just drank a whole bottle of hard-hitting liquor, his eyes fixed on the bright screen of his phone in terror.

He was in shock. His mind wasn't in the right state to process any of this, he wasn't able to properly begin to fathom the meaning behind your words, as simple as they were.

‍

— I'm pregnant.

— I'm fucking pregnant, Simon.

— I don't know how it happened, the chances of the pill failing are so fucking low, and of course it happened to us.

‍

— Please pick up.

— I know you're getting the messages.

‍

— The doctor told me it's too dangerous to perform the abortion.

— I have to keep it or risk my life.

‍

— I need you to answer, Simon. Please, I just need to know that you're there.

— I'm scared.

‍

— You're such an asshole, you know that, right?! Fucking gave me your number only to disappear? Left me pregnant with your bloody kid!? And you can't even bother to pick up the goddamn phone.

‍

— Fuck you.

‍

— …

— It's a boy. Thought you'd want to know.

‍

— My due date is in a month. Please… call me, if you're even reading these. I don't want to be alone.

‍

The phone flashed the low power message in hopes that Simon would take mercy on it and finally plug it in, but Simon paid it no mind, clear eyes staring down at the picture you'd attached during one of the first months of your pregnancy.

The blurry picture of an ecography staring back at him disproved any doubts that might have formed in his mind, your full name displayed at the bottom along with the date it was taken, solidifying the fact even more.

It was real. This was real. You'd been carrying his son for 9 months, sending him frantic and terrified messages all throughout the three trimesters in hopes that he'd answer, all the while he had forgotten all about you in the midst of his mission, while you probably didn't spend a single day of that year not thinking about him.

His phone went dark once it finally had enough, leaving him standing there with a dry throat and shaky hands.

It was rare for Ghost to feel fear, but not for Simon. His throat would contract with every breath, his nose would sting as tears threatened to form on his waterline, his hands would get shaky until he balled them up and threw a punch into whatever item was closest.

This time wasn't any different. He punched his locker door, denting the metal effortlessly as he tried to wash away the fear and guilt creeping up to him with the pain that bloomed at his knuckles, that ran up his arms like electric shocks until they went numb.

He was an asshole.

Simon knew that it wasn't his fault that the mission had been extended for way too long, but he kept thinking back to the moment he'd placed his number on your fridge, wondering what would have happened if he'd done the smart thing and added that he'd be unavailable for a while, but that he'd get back to you. Maybe you would have been less scared while going through the pregnancy, comforted by the thought that he hadn't been ignoring you, but he knew that even then, you would have gone through it alone and terrified.

"I'm an asshole."

He rested his head against the dented locker, the cool metal soothing the headache that had quickly formed after all the conflicting feelings that had rushed through him in the matter of a minute.

All he had wanted was to go back home and rest, but fuck him if he was going to be able to even close his eyes after learning he was a father.

He packed everything up as quickly as he could, not bothering to say goodbye or join the other three for a drink at a pub, heading to his car so he could get the fuck out of London and back to Manchester, where he prayed you still lived, in that tiny flat near that dingy pub where he had first laid eyes on you in.

As his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a terrifying thought struck him.

Who's to say you had even kept the baby?

Who's to say you couldn't bear to look at the baby, that you'd given him away to a way more functional family?

The thought inflicted fear in him, a type of fear he didn't know if he should be feeling or not, confused with all the unpleasant emotions swirling inside of him.

"God, fuck!" He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, the roar he had let out no doubt scaring any civilian that had been walking near his car at the time, but he couldn't care less.

All that was important now was getting back to you, to what he hoped was still the mother of his son.

Happy giggles and gurgles filled the living room, your tiny baby outstretching his arms out as you cycled his legs slowly, making silly faces down at him to keep him distracted.

Your doctor had recommended small exercises like these, some that would help develop his future motor skills, but you'd found that Tommy was a curious baby, one that couldn't stay still for longer than five minutes before he was whining and huffing in a futile attempt to get your attention and hopefully release him from his tiny prison; and so, in order to keep him focused, you resorted to having leisured conversations with him, your small son hanging onto your every word with wide blue eyes and a gaping mouth, as if he could understand your frustrations with the man who had blocked your car off and the girl from the bakery that had gotten your order wrong, or making silly faces at him to hear him giggle with glee.

You placed his small feet down and went back to your resting face, his eyes instantly going from your face to the closest toy, small chubby arm reaching out to grab it, your fingers running over his tummy and getting out a few giggles out of him before he finally grasped the toy, pressing it into his side.

As he distracted himself, you let yourself sit down properly, back hitting the edge of the sofa as you watched your son roll around on the blanket you'd laid down, letting yourself look up at the TV for a moment to have a small break, the news reporter standing in front of Big Ben ranting about some resolved political dispute or something.

Your eyes trailed back down to your son, who was wriggling around with a new toy in his grasp, cooing and drooling as he stared up at the ceiling, blue eyes fixed on one of the many cracks in the ceiling.

You winced at the not so friendly reminder of the state your flat was in. Going through a pregnancy on your own without any help and barely any money to take care of yourself left your home in a condition you were not proud of. You'd tried your best to clean and make the nursery as cosy as possible, but at the end of your third trimester you could barely lean down to pick up the hoover. Once you had been allowed back home, you'd cleaned up, but you couldn't really do much to fix the poor way your building had been constructed.

A sigh left your lips, leaning down to rest your head against your knees with closed eyes, giving yourself a few moments of sacred rest, something you seldom got anymore those days.

Sometimes, you thought as you wrapped your arms around your legs, you wished you weren't alone. As much hate you had harboured for your son's father across the year, you couldn't help the longing that still filled you every time you thought about him, wondering if you'd ever see him again, if he'd ever hold his son in his arms.

Frustrated tears filled the corners of your eyes, wiping them away with your sleeves before turning your attention back to your son, who was now squirming in his spot making grabby hands at you.

"I've got you, duck, don't worry." You cooed, picking him up and pressing a few kisses to his chubby cheeks, cradling him to your chest as you got up from the floor, careful to not drop him or bump him into anything.

As you took him back to his room, routinely changing his diaper and clothes, you thought back to the small breakdown you almost had had a few minutes ago, letting out an exhausted sigh. There was no use in imagining a future where Simon fit in, you'd given him enough time to answer, to show any signs of life at all. You were alone.

You were on the verge of tears as you placed Tommy in his tiny crib, handing him the small duck plushie your grandma had knitted a few months back when she had come to visit, watching him cling onto it in his sleep for a few moments, his soft breaths and coos tranquillising the waves of anxiety threatening to drown you.

"Good night, Tom." You whispered, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek before flicking on the night light, carefully closing the door and resting your body against it, a shaky sigh leaving your chapped lips.

God, you were pathetic. Hung up over a man who you'd only known for a few hours, who'd left you with a baby (unknowingly or not, didn't matter), who still haunted your dreams every time you tried to get some rest. Why couldn't he have just picked up the phone? Why had he just given you his fucking number if he wasn't bothering on answering? Why had he gotten into your head so easily, with his sweet nicknames and soft kisses? Why couldn't you just fucking mov-

Your whole body jumped as the shrill doorbell rang, the sound reverberating around the flat and no doubt reaching Tommy's sensitive ears.

"God, yeah, I hear it!" You cried out as the sound didn't stop, starting to get worried that it would wake your baby up and then you'd have to deal with putting him to sleep all over again. "Fuck! I know, I'm coming!"

You looked through the peephole, eyebrows furrowing as you gazed upon a man's tacky army jacket instead of the normal face, so either this guy was incredibly fucking tall or he was standing on a stool.

Knowing that the area you lived in wasn't the safest, you unlocked the door but kept the chain latch on, a gap big enough so you could see the guy outside but not big enough for him to attack you.

"What?" You snapped, a bit harsher than how you'd normally answer the door, but this guy didn't really deserve any respect after how he'd basically abused your doorbell to the point of the sound still ringing in your ears. "What do you-"

Your gaze had been fixed onto his chest, scanning the army jacket you had spied through the peephole, cringing internally at the Union Jack plastered on his left bicep, hoping to God that he wasn't some type of Tory propagandist going door to door. But as your eyes trailed up to meet his, your mouth went dry.

Crystal blue eyes framed by pretty blonde eyelashes (identical to the blue eyes your son had been staring up at you with for the past three months), contrasting with the black face paint that was smeared around his eyes, the rest of his face obscured by that damn skull balaclava that haunted you.

It was him. It was fucking him.

"Simon." You said his name breathlessly, not missing the way his body stiffened at your shaky tone.

"Yeah. It's me."

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #cw pregnancy #— ménage

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blingblong55 · 23 days

Text

This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has.

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful.

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life.

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass.

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good.

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?"

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk."

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone.

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks.

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks.

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home.

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow.

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers.

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back.

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was.

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away.

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has.

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today.

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you?

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name.

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart.

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You.

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you.

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring.

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks.

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks.

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town.

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town.

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you.

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real.

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body.

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place.

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

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wingedhallows · 2 months

Text

I'll be fine; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius idk ) x reader | 1.6k words plot: betrayel has consequences, in most cases, revenge prompt: "I'll be fine" authors note: this is the happier version of ( i won't make it, love ) requested by the lovely @arwensloanebarnes , i hope you somewhat like it :)

navigation | sad ending

The alleway was dimly lit, the ground wet from prior rainfall. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your jacket, your right hand rested on your wand. Atreus held the map out for you, finger resting on top of an apartment complex around the corner.

“They might hide right here.” He mumbled, you nodded and looked ahead.

Atreus was one weird individual but he was nice, he didn’t ask too many questions and he made efforts to hold a conversation. Sirius was against the mission, he had begged Albus to swap Atreus with him, wanting to stay by your side. You had assured him to check in once in a while, the paper bird rested in your pocket, ready to be sent.

“We’ll go soon, Firewhiskey’s on me tonight-” Atreus didn’t have a chance to finish what he had said as he suddenly dropped to the ground, eyes wide, dead.

With a gasp you whipped around, wand tightly grasped in your hand. “Atreus!” You whispered. Before you stood a Death Eater, his face masked and..and.. you had to squint. To convince yourself that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, but in front of you stood one of your friends, a member of the order,

Peter Pettigrew.

“Peter?” A sick cold feeling spread in your chest, betrayal cursing through your veins as you realized. He had been the rat, the spy who cost so many of your friends lifes.

All those years you spent being friends, laughing together, drinking your sorrows away together, all those years of friendship were a hoax, a lie. “What the fuck?” You whispered as you unbeknownst to you, lowered your wand.

“Peter, w-what-”You have to understand, Y/N, there was no other way.” Tears formed in your eyes.

You’d die here in this alleway, you won’t ever see Sirius again. Would Harry remember you? Probably not, he’s just a baby. You raised your wand and sent a wordless spell towards Peter, sending him off his feet. His little friend jumped to the front and whipped his wand in the air.

“Confringo!” He yelled and you deflected the spell with a hast movement of your arm. “Crucio!” Peter yelled after he had gotten to his feet again, catching you off guard. Your body slammed to the ground, your elbow shattered with the sudden contact.

The pain cursed through your body like a wildfire, from the top of your head all the way to your toes. A horrific scream left your lips as you desperately tried to shake the effects of the curse.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You were always a great friend.” Peter spoke before he grasped your head between his hands and slammed it down with as much strength as he could muster. Your eyesight wavered, the impact of your skull on the cement had surely cracked something.

A groan left you as you tried to stay awake. “Sectumsempra.” He breathed as you could feel the effect of the spell, something hot and wet bloomed in your chest. You had to get away, get to Sirius, to James and Remus to Lily and Harry. You had to live, to not die here by the hands of this traitorous rat.

With the last bit of strength left in your broken body, you grasped your wand and apparated away, away to a place Peter wouldn’t find.

You crashed onto the patio of the Potter house, the door you had hit upon impact sounded with a loud thud. You could feel the blood creeping up your throat, you choked on the liquid. You had to squint as your blood splattered everywhere.

The door swung open and all you could really hear outside of your desperate choking and heaving were a mass of voices and bodies. “Oh my god-Remus, get out the way-Lily, get a towel-No, what happened?”

Sirius and James dragged you inside, your hand swung around, desperate to get someone’s attention. Lily fell to her knees beside you, hand on your face as she tried to get some words out. Sirius had his hand on your upper body, face in a crying mess.

“What was it?” Lily tried. You choked some more blood out before you mustered a whisper. “Sectum-sectumsempra.” “There’s so much blood!” James spoke, not caring for the carpet Sirius and you had gifted them when they first moved in.

“Love, look at me-this-this…w-what happened?” He stammered, hands on your face, trying to wipe the blood from your beautiful face.

“I’ll be fine.” You whispered, Lily would know what to do. She had nodded her head as she now stood above you, wand stretched in your direction.

“Vulnera Sanetur.” She whispered in a sing song voice and suddenly all the blood that had leaked from your beaten body seemed to wander right back to where it belonged.

The blood which had crawled up your throat simmered down again, oxygen filled your lungs and for the first time in what felt like forever you went limb, the adrenaline of almost dying wearing off.

“Fuck.” You whispered. “Love.” Sirius spoke, his hands around you in a second.

“What the fuck happened?” James said after a moment of silence. “Water.” Remus was quick to leave the room and fetch you a glass. You lifted yourself off the floor, Sirius’ hand tucked under you to keep you from falling. You sat yourself down onto the couch, a sigh left your lips, you were sore.

You pushed your hand into Sirius’ pants and took out the pack of cigarettes which you just knew was always there. He didn’t protest and lit the stick for you. You had to close your eyes for a moment to enjoy the burning sensation in your lungs.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck happened.” You opened your eyes and took another drag of your cigarette. “Thank you, Moony.” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a small smile. You chugged the contents of the glass down in one go and took another drag.

“Peter fucking Pettigrew happened.” Your friends were confused, you could see it. Their faces contorted into confusion. “That’s what i looked like as well, friends.” You took another drag from your cigarette.

“Peter is a Death Eater and he killed Atreus, tried to murder me as well.” Sirius jumped to his feet, face bewildered. “Are you sure?” He spoke, your eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, love, I’m fucking sure.” You pushed your right foot over the other and rubbed your eyebrow with your thumb in irritation.

“Peter’s the rat who has been spying on the order, that’s why so many of our missions failed, why so many of us had to die.” Lily placed a hand on your leg before she spoke.

“We have to talk to Dumbledore, this is serious.” Sirius sat himself down again, taking a drag from your cigarette before he snaked an arm around your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to yell at you.” You nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I know, it’s hard to believe that one of us is a traitor.”

The tension in the room could be cut by a knife, you had agreed to stay in the back, to not reveal yourself yet. “He’ll be here any minute.” You could hear Lily say, Sirius was pacing, you stood hidden behind a cabinet. Albus sat himself down.

“Calm yourselves.” He had said and the others sat down as well. Suddenly the front door opened and a disheveled Peter made his way into the kitchen, his face in a small smile.

“Hello there, friends.” He said awkwardly. You had to fight with every fiber in your body to not jump from your hiding spot and slash his throat right then and there. “What’s the matter?” He spoke before he took his coat off, a small innocent smile still decorated his face.

“Y/N didn’t return from her mission.” James said, dropping the bait. Just for a second you could catch the flash of guilt in his features before he furrowed his brows and pretended to care.

“Really? Oh my god, what if something happened?” You couldn’t take it, you weren’t as good at pretending as Peter was, without another thought you apparated right behind Peter, the gust of wind startled him. His eyes were wide as you moved to whisper into his ear.

“Liar.”

He stirred around with a gasp. You looked down on him with a sour snarl.

“Surprised, Peter?” He fell on his bottom and scrambled away from you.

“Surprised you couldn’t manage to actually kill me?” He scrambled to his feet and shook his head.

“But, but-”But, but, you tried to kill me, Peter!” You yelled before you took a step towards him. Your wand rested on his chin, his eyes squinted.

“You Death Eater rat.”

Albus rose from his seat and spoke. “We indeed have a rat in our circles.” He paused to push your wand from his throat. Sirius was by your side, his face contorted in anger.

“Show us your forearm, Peter.” Peter tried to protest before James and Remus moved to hold him still, Lily pushed up his sleeve and with close to no surprise it was decorated with the dark mark.

“Why, Peter?” Sirius spoke, face in a painful expression.

“So many of us had to die pointless deaths, for what? Your friends had to die, to endure torture and for what?” He yelled, you held his arm to not have him attack the rat. Peter shook his head and his lips contorted in a pained snarl.

“You’re all fools, the Dark Lord's ways are the only ways.”

Albus didn’t falter for long before he had Peter taken away to Azkaban, to not harm any more of the members, his friends.

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders era #marauders imagine #the marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfic #sirius black angst #harry potter angst #the marauders era #marauders #remus lupin #james potter #lily potter #peter pettigrew #the marauders fanfic

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acetheidiotinacloset · 2 months

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My favorite incorrect quotes from the generator: Lucifer and Alastor edition

(These are both shipping and non shipping, also I might draw one idk)

Lucifer: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Alastor: I will politely decline.

Lucifer, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

Lucifer: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined. Alastor: Heck. Lucifer: You're on thin fucking ice. Lucifer: Oh no-

Alastor: So my therapist was talking to me and she said that I really just need to break down my walls and let people in. Alastor: So I’ve decided to break the fourth wall. Alastor: *looks at camera* Hi there. I use humor as a coping mechanism.

Alastor: How much did you spend on this date? Lucifer: $1400. But all of it's on credit cards, so it's like $5 a month for the next 2,000 years.

Alastor: Did it hurt when you fell- Lucifer: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Alastor: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs. Lucifer: ... Alastor: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Alastor: I am the most responsible person in the group. Lucifer: …You just set the kitchen on fire. Alastor: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

Alastor: Things will get better! Lucifer: ... Alastor: Okay, maybe they won’t. Alastor: But they will be terrible in new and interesting ways!

Lucifer: Drink your school, stay in drugs, and get 8 hours of drugs.

Lucifer: Alastor, is that my mug you’re drinking out of? Alastor: No, it’s mine. Lucifer: It... looks just like the one I have... Alastor: You don’t have one like this anymore.

Lucifer: My ultimate goal is to punch God in the eye, just to spite him one last time.

DAS IT FOR NOW Y'ALL

#vivziepop #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #radioapple #appleradio

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thatfreshi · 7 months

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I Know - (Astarion x Reader)

Post-ascension angst, where Tav leaves Astarion. (Also Gale makes an interesting appearance??)

tw - mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, themes of death, grief, rebounds

Recommended Song: cardigan - Taylor Swift

It's been a long three decades. Sure, compared to two centuries it's barely anything, but two centuries of a man leaves quite the impression. It's been thirty years since he told you how much he appreciated your support with that damned drow Araj, thirty years since you stood in the shadow-cursed lands holding hands, wrapping your arms around him and his shaking figure. You could recite that entire conversation from memory, how he held back tears saying that not sleeping with you almost sounded like a challenge. It's also been thirty years since you lost him.

You're in that sad old graveyard, sitting by Astarion's 'tombstone.' It's been exactly thirty years since he left, since you lost the love of your life to rancid fate. Cazador was there, lying fearful on the floor of his palace, and Astarion had that damn ritual dagger.

"You'll be just like him if you do this, you'll lose yourself in it."

You pleaded, almost screaming. Your fellow companions simply watched, knowing if anyone could convince him it would be you.

"But no one will hurt me again Tav. You'd deny me that?"

"You can be safe in my embrace, or safe in this ritual, but you can only choose one."

"You said-"

"I know what I said. But this? You can't do this and be the man I love."

He's practically ignoring Cazador now, knowing he's already won.

"We could have everything my love, I can only have everything I want if I have you."

"I won't have you if you do this, I'll have a master. You and I both don't want to see it come to that, me fall to your whim, you become what you despise."

You know in that moment, that the words don't matter. You're fighting a losing battle, one in which the words only pour in one ear and out the other. Stubborn, one thing he's always been. And yet you don't blame him one bit.

"I'm sorry Tav. I can't risk this, I can't live in fear anymore."

Anger, sorrow, guilt, numbness. The water fills your eyes.

"I know."

The memory fades, knowing you walked away without a word, that his cries of 'I love you' fell on deaf ears. You went to Waterdeep with Gale for a while, while he packed up all his things to move to Baldur's Gate.

"You did everything you could've, you know that right?"

His words woke you from a warm cup of tea, Tara rubbing against your leg.

"It wouldn't have mattered what I did Gale. He knew what he wanted before I spoke a damn word."

It manifested as anger for a long time, for probably five years it was nothing but rage. You lived with Gale for those five years, complex relations. Looking back on it, he probably deserves an apology. You overstayed your welcome, crossed your own boundaries to try and heal invincible wounds. He knew you were grieving, that it was impossible for you to truly love him in those moments, but he let his hopeless romanticism get in the way of the truth. You'd be lying if you said there weren't nights that you closed your eyes, imagining a very different man than who was before you. Rage makes a good, passionate lover though, reckless nights, drunken stupors, meaningless whispers that made his hair stand on end. Just like Astarion, getting what you want to avoid what you need.

After five years of 'what are we?'s and screaming matches and intimate moments, he kicked you out, knowing he was a plaything, just like he was to Mystra. You tried coming back, tried telling sweet lies to suppress that anger deep inside, but he knew better. You spent the next ten years wandering aimlessly, sleeping with strangers, occasionally staying with an old friend. Not your old companions though, who heard of what you'd done to Gale. You received many messages expressing their disgust in you, how Astarion's choices didn't need to make you a monster too. After those ten years of drifting between bodies and jobs, you tried to get back on your feet, buying a small apartment in the city.

It was around this time that you started noticing the vampire spawn crawling the city streets at night. Hard not to recognize them after a whirlwind romance with one. They would try to approach you, and you'd simply walk away, knowing they had some message from your ex-lover, knowing Astarion knew you were still in the city. Over the last fifteen years you slowly put your life back together, avoiding any communications from the vampire lord. You tried to fall in love a million times, only ending in tears and heartache, never truly finding what you lost. You even tried writing to Gale, telling him you were sorry, telling him he deserved better. He never wrote back.

Sitting in the graveyard now, it's the first time you've visited his grave in thirty years. You slowly let the sorrow unravel, the tears fall, the emotions run wild like ghosts from the nearby crypts. You're screaming at the empty grave, knowing there's no body, knowing he got everything and you were left with nothing. You could piece together old parts of yourself, but you'd remember his betrayal for a million lifetimes. In all the rage, you see the first time you were intimate again after everything at Moonrise Towers, how he said this was the first time he truly felt alive since he died. Ecstasy, teeth in your throat, hands grasping hair. That night you went til the sun rose, staying wrapped up in each other whispering sweet nothings and giving each other things you'd never imagined taking from someone else. The screams die in your throat, and they turn into soft whimpers, salty tears in your sleeves.

That's when you feel steps behind you, and a body lightly sitting next to you, not daring reach out.

"You came, after all this time. Surprise after surprise with you."

"I didn't come for you. I came to let you go."

"I figured, after hearing you yell at nothing but thin air."

Astarion chuckles, that old joy in his laugh long gone. You don't turn to meet his gaze, knowing he's taking your image in.

"You have to stop sending your messengers. I'm not going to respond."

You try to be cold, try to remember why you're here.

"But wouldn't it be nice to at least stop by? See what I've done with the place."

"No."

That's when he tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder, and you shrivel away from his touch.

"Come now, I may have a consort now but it's not as if they're anything like you. You're the last missing piece Tav, the last thing I need."

Those honeyed words, the same he used on you forever ago at the tieflings' party.

"I'm the last thing you want. You have everything you could ever need."

"I suppose that's true darling."

There's silence, the static air of the graveyard and the scent of overgrowth.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

He meant it back then, but not now. It was a ploy to get you wrapped around his finger again, so you could be some furniture piece in a palace that was never meant to be his. You smirk, realizing you've won. No matter how happy he is with this power, no matter how no one could ever hurt him again, he'll never have that last piece. He'll never have you, and it will haunt him for centuries to come, that last piece of the man used to be.

"I know."

And the same way you did thirty years ago, you walk away without another word, finally feeling some peace, knowing he will never have you, knowing he can have all the safety he wants, but it comes at the price of love. Somewhere deep down though, you know he did what he thought he had to, that he was petrified, that you couldn't offer him the safety ascension could. And somehow you don't blame him, even now. Maybe that's a part of letting go, coming to peace with being left behind. You don't know how long he stayed in the graveyard afterward, if he stared at his tombstone wondering who he used to be, wondering what those feelings for you truly were. All he knows it there's something out of place, and it will never be fixed. In the end, he lost. You both lost, but you were done playing the game. The sun rises, and you walk home, not letting yourself cry any longer. It's over. Thirty years later, and it's finally over.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #gale dekarios

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addicted-to-dc · 6 months

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AK!Jason Todd x Catwoman's protégé! Reader - Just for tonight, Kitty

Gotta love it when inspiration strikes. Not promising anything after this, but I'll use this *possible* series to work out my writer's block.

Warnings: Drugging, kidnapping, mentions of torture, guns, and manipulation/mind control... you've been warned.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew something was wrong the second you took a gulp from your drink, the bartender darkly watching you unknowingly seal your fate. Whatever it was, it was fast-acting, dulling your senses just in time for a hand to wrap around your waist.

“You don’t look so good, Kitty.”

The familiar nickname makes your blood run cold, memories flooding back into your mind despite the many drinks you’ve used to drown your sorrows. It can’t be him, not like this.

You’re urged to your feet and led out of the crowded bar. The hand around your waist tightens every time you try to rip yourself away, never faltering until you’re shoved into a vehicle directly outside of the door. You land harshly on a seat, mustering the courage to look at the man doing this to you.

No, it can’t be him. Jason Todd is dead, the Joker made sure of it with a bullet and a warning to the rest of Batman’s little helpers.

“J-jay? Wha’s going on?”

You reach for your bracelet, but he snatches your wrist before you could send out a signal. He removes it from your wrist and tosses it out of the window. The car begins to move.

“Can’t let you ruin the surprise,” Jason replies, pulling you closer.

You’re overwhelmed on all fronts, your mind hazy and confused by everything going on. His hand slips into your pockets, emptying out their contents as he whispers in your ear.

“How has my girl been doing? You miss me?”

Of course, you missed him. It’s been five goddamn years of trying to recover from his death. Your brows furrow together at the question. Your eyes look outside the window, finally noticing that you’re entering a tunnel. His fingers gently guide your attention back to him, a much darker version of the boy you knew.

“Missed you,” you say sluggishly, staring at the new scars marring his face.

Tears begin to form at the sight of the ‘J’ burned into his skin, only a small piece of the suffering that the mad clown put him into. You’re glad the bastard is dead, the world free from the monstrous acts he’d continuously commit.

A smirk crawls onto his face at the reply, but not the carefree one that would appear after he convinced you to sneak out. No, it’s something else. Borderline malicious, but not directed at you. You used to read him like an open book, but now Jason is a mystery to you.

A large bump sends you into him, his arms wrapping around you instantly. He guides you to lay down on the seat, your head resting on his thigh as the car continues to drive on a much smoother path than before.

“I know you did, sweetheart,” he smiles, dragging his fingers over your lips. “I missed you, too.”

“W-why… Wh-where are-”

Jason shushes you with his finger, “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep asking questions. We’re almost there.”

You’re so tired, barely able to move a finger as you fade in and out of consciousness. The combined efforts of Jason’s warmth and the rumble of the car is enough to finally lull you to sleep. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in years. No nightmares, terrors, or the clown taunting you from beyond the grave.

You awaken slowly, an overwhelming warmth keeping you from moving. It feels like home, something you haven’t had in a while. After what feels like forever, you finally open your eyes. A nearly barren room faces you, too militaristic with a suit of armor laying across a table. The currently deactivated mask captivates you, a nearly faceless… bat?

Your curiosity gets the better of you, slowly getting up, leaving the warmth behind, to see it. Cautiously, you walk over to the table. You pay no mind to the warning bells wringing in your head as you reach for the helmet.

“Still as curious as a cat, huh, (Y/N)?”

You wrench your hand away and turn around. A gasp leaves your throat before you could prevent it. Jason Todd is alive. There is no doubt in your mind, not when he’s standing right in front of you. He’s not the boy you fought with and against, nearly crossing so many lines to be with each other. A bat and a cat, something only Bruce and Selena could understand. They couldn’t stop it, just like they couldn’t stop themselves from falling in love.

You nod, “I am, but you’re just… a mystery to me. What happened? How are you alive? Does Bruce even know?”

The final question has him closing the distance between the two of you before guiding you away from the armor. You sit back down on the bed, but he remains standing.

“Did Bruce tell you what happened?”

Your throat dries up at the thought of the video that Joker sent. He looked and sounded broken, both inside and out. Bruce tried to pause it, to keep you from the pain of the truth, but you blocked him. You’d never forget Jay’s last moments on the video, the gunshot, how he just laid on the floor lifelessly…

Jason swipes the unwelcome tears from your face. Your head slowly tilts up, his hand guiding you to look into his eyes. “I saw the video, but you’re here?”

You look into his eyes, a million questions going through your mind. The memories last night were fuzzy, but you remember him saying something about a surprise. You took a sip from your drink… there was something in it.

Standing up, you wrench out of his grip and put some distance between the two of you. “What the hell is this? Did you drug me? Where the hell are we, Jason?”

Your voice wavers at the last question, but your hand already weakly pointed towards the mask and the militaristic armor alongside it. His eyes meet the helmet, and they darken.

“I need your help, (Y/N),” he says, finally moving to turn on the mask.

As soon as you see the eyes light up your stomach drops, everything clicking into place. You’ve been keeping tabs on Deathstroke for the past few years, watching as he’d train new recruits for a militia. You now realize why the armor struck a nerve. The Arkham Knight.

“I don’t like this, Jay,” you whisper, backing away from him, “but you know that.”

You’ve heard only whispers of what the Knight is capable of, his ruthlessness drilled into you through the horror stories from the militiamen. How could he be the Arkham Knight? He can’t be. He couldn’t. Not your Jay.

He sighs and places the helmet down. Your eyes shift to the helmet that was hidden in the corner, blocked by his own. Jason picks it up, holding it in front of you.

“I need you to get something for me, something I know only you can do,” he begins, taking hesitant steps forward.

With each step closer you can see the Knight, how he stalks towards you like prey. You gulp at the sight, clenching your hands to try and stop yourself from shaking.

“What is it?” you ask, flinching when he places a hand on your cheek.

He’s warm, too warm for a cold-blooded killer. You close your eyes, too weak against his touch. His hand drifts down, finding a home on your lower back.

“We need you to acquire some files at Stagg Enterprises. Off the record ones.”

The best kind, you think automatically. There’s something that makes you hesitate, a gut feeling telling you that there’s more to this. Something bigger than just you and Jason.

“Who am I doing this for? You? Or the Arkham Knight?” you ask, fearing what the answer will be.

He remains quiet for a few moments, until his answer breaks the silence. “Depends on if you’re going to do it willingly.”

You tense at his words. The Arkham Knight has spoken, using your connection with Jason against you. Everything is telling you to run, to fight back and try to leave, but there’s a reason why he brought you here. You can only assume it’s a fortress, something that is meant to keep people out and prisoners within.

Just as you try to take a step back, he pulls you closer to him. Jason’s grip is too strong for you to break. You finally look up at him, eyes widening as he shoves the helm onto you. You’re only able to struggle for a moment until you made the mistake of opening your eyes. Your body goes slack as you recognize the tech.

You had a past run-in with the Mad Hatter. That experience was enough for you to know behind his silly delusions of Wonderland, his mind control tech was terrifying. Your lack of movement is enough to tell him that the tech is working. Jason adjusts the helmet on you, tightening the straps so it won’t go anywhere.

“Just for tonight, Kitty. Go get dressed, your suit’s waiting for you.”

Thankssss for reading! Interact, leave a comment, reblog if you enjoyed the fic!!

#Jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #ak!jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #the arkham knight dows things to be that cannot be said with words #the tragedy of Jason Todd never ceases to make me ferralllll

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mactavishenjoyer · 8 days

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Continuation of this post!

More of this au idea cuz I'm bored.

"really? You love me? Someone doesn't do this to the people they love. you could have at least told me you were alive. You didn't have to be in my life. I just..." Gary chokes on his words as a sob comes out "Do you know how fucking agonizing those months you where missing before they told me you where dead were? I stayed up every fucking night having panic attacks because I didn't know if you where kidnapped or dead. I had a fucking funeral for you and your family, Simon." Ghost feels guilty but more angry than anything. How could this world's ghost put Gary through this? He can see the logic behind it though. None of Ghost's enemies would go after Gary if Gary didn't even know ghost. "I'm sorry" Ghost couldn't even bring himself to look at Gary. "Thats all I hear out of you! That you are sorry. I want to know why. Why didn't you come find me?"

"I did! As soon as I got the chance to I did" Ghost says just under a yell, his heart screaming at him.

"oh yeah and it took you 10 fucking years to do so, huh?"

"it's not like that i just-" Ghost stops himself, Gary isn't going to believe him so what's the point?

" you just what?" Gary got silence in response to his question "I think you should leave, I don't think it's safe for Riley to be around someone like you."

Ghost spilled his Guts at being told to leave. Telling Gary everything about where he was from. That Gary was called Roach and that they were teammates. That they were betrayed...that he watched the love of his life get shot right in front of him and that before he could react he felt the sting of a bullet ripping into his face before waking up here.

"God, you always made the worst jokes you can't seriously think I'mma believe that." roach laughed, his smile quickly dropping looking at how serious Ghost looked "...oh my God. You seriously want me to believe you?".

"I know it sounds ridiculous but you have to believe me."

"you are right it does sound ridiculous! Get the fuck out. You abandoned me. You don't get to come back into my life and tell me you love me then make up some crazy ass story when you realize your plan didn't work."

Ghost left his number before Gary kicked him out. Hoping that Gary would use it. He drank his sorrows in a bar. Fuck this wasn't how it was supposed to be. At least Gary is alive....this Gary is that is. Was his Gary dead? Did shepherd get away with killing them? Did Gary die scared? Did the first shot kill him or did he die slowly? Thoughts like that just made him drink more. He didn't know how long he had been drinking for when he heard his phone buzz in his pocket. He picked it up, his heart racing. "Simon? I'm sorry for how I acted. I put Riley to bed so can you come back over? I'll entertain your story."

(Or something like that I'm not a writer)

Oh shit part 3????

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enderpearlll · 1 year

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Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 4.

Holy fuck I just finished a request, this part and the next one of My Favourite Employee. (And a possible part 6 but ahhh) Hope you all enjoy.

Gender-Neutral Reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and darling are used.

Taglist: @1-800-moondust

TW/CW: Yandere content, stalking, cannibalism, implied murder, etc…

• You were distraught, eyes wide open as you watched the news report. "There has been an alarming increase in disappearances these past few days, and it is causing an uproar in the community. The most recent incident was a 21 year old who had worked at a local restaurant..." You couldn't process anything coming out of the reporters mouth, unable to focus on anything around you.

• You shook yourself out of it and grabbed the remote, turning up the volume as you leaned closer towards the TV. " We had interviewed the manager of the establishment, and he was presumed to be the last person to see them in person. They had left around 8pm last night, apparently in distress. Mr. Velseb, who is very well known around town, had said that that was the last time he had seen them."

• The news reporter had finally concluded the report, and began to recap on the many other missing people. You grasped at your remote, hands trembling uncontrollably. You knew that you should've called the police, this was all your fault— A sudden knock at the door interrupted you, and as you stood up with shaky knees the door had already opened. Bob stood in the doorway, a look of urgency in his eyes. "I came as soon as I could, sweet pea!"

• You flinched at his sudden intrusion, before confusion washed over you. How did he get into your house, you locked the door didn't you—? But Bob had hugged you as tight as he could, a small wheeze coming from you as he let you go after a minute or two. "I know you two were close at work, and I swear sweet pea, I would've did anything to make sure they were okay, since I know they were your friend—" Bob rambled, a nervous look in his eye.

• Oh. Oh yeah. Your coworker was missing. You felt sorrow wash over you in waves as you slammed your face into Bob's chest and let out a nerve wracking sob. Why could you never catch a break? The overwhelming feeling of guilt took over as Bob took you over to the couch, uttering words of saccharine-sweet comfort. "It's all my fault! I should've called the police, I don't even know what they were talking about and—!" Bob shushed you, brushing strands of hair out of your watery eyes.

• "It ain't your fault at all darlin'. If anything, it's far from it. Now come on, I'll get ya somethin' to drink." He grinned, wiping tears from your eyes. Bob tried to shuffle towards the kitchen, but you quickly grasped at his sleeve and pulled him towards you. "W—What if I'm next?" You whispered, tears dribbling down your cheeks. Bob's face had dropped, pure fear glowing in his eyes.

• "No, no, no, no, no! Sweet pea, don't even think that way!" Bob said, a slight shake in his voice. He held you close again, fingers burrowing in the fabric of your shirt. "I promise, nothin' will ever happen to ya, darlin'. Ever. Not on my watch." Bob said firmly, gritting his teeth as he grinned wide.

• Bob stayed with you for the whole day, the restaurant closed as many people were out on searches. You had managed to convince Bob to let you out of the protective cocoon he made with your blankets and pillows to join in the search. You met up with a crowd, and began to help out with them. People searched high and low, especially family members of the victims. You couldn't bear to look at your coworkers parents in the eyes as they thanked you and Bob for coming out to help. But there was nothing.

• Bob was oddly insistent on staying away from the street that the restaurant was on, and kept you close by holding your hand or wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A lot of people stopped you both to talk, mostly about how you two were amazing coworkers to help in the search for your coworkers. You didn't deserve any of the praise. But you kept a smile on your face as you both walked around until sundown.

• Bob wanted the restaurant to open tomorrow, so he got you to go home despite your desperate efforts to stay behind and help. "Bob, please! We gotta help, or you can just go and I'll just—!" "Nope. You're coming with me, sweet pea. I ain't letting you walk around alone no more, it ain't safe for ya!" "I live alone—!" But Bob's consistent nagging got to you eventually. So as you both walked home, the thought of what your coworker had said before they went missing haunted you.

• The office... What did that mean? You forgot to wave to Bob as you practically ran inside, tearing off your jacket and throwing yourself on the couch, eager to watch the news. You prayed that there would be something about the disappearances, even a smidge of good news would make you feel better. But there was nothing yet. You waited and waited for even a mention of them, but you fell asleep well into the middle of the night waiting for nothing.

• You woke up at the asscrack of dawn to a loud shutter noise, like a camera going off. You could barely open your eyes, groaning in annoyance as you wiped away the sleep in your eyes. You heard a thudding noise as someone ran out of your house, but you were too tired to notice. The news channel was still on, but it was just static as you pat around the couch for the remote. What a weird dream... You turned off the TV and rolled over, falling back asleep.

• When you woke up again around lunch hour, you glanced at the clock hanging on your wall. You were several hours late. Oh shit. You rolled off the couch and scrambled towards your room, tearing off your clothes from yesterday and putting on your uniform as quick as you could. The phone rang, so while you were in the middle of putting on your shirt you gunned it to the living room, head caught in the sleeve.

• You picked up the phone, out of breath and panting heavily. "H—Hello?" "Oh, hey sweet pea..." It was Bob. He sounded like he just got up too, his usual booming voice muted to a low grumble. "Just got up, restaurant'll be open in... An hour." "Oh, okay? You good, Bob?" "O—Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I'm good darlin'... See ya later, love ya..." He trailed off at the end, so you barely heard him say goodbye. You then realized that you put your shirt on backwards. It was going to be a long day.

• When you got to work later, you both collectively looked like shit. Sleep was still evident in your eyes as you both waited for the coffee to brew, (it was supposed to be for the customers but anywho,) with Bob yawning. It doesn't look like it'll be too busy today. And you both silently hoped it wouldn't be.

• And to your luck, it wasn't busy at all. You and your other coworker were on edge all day, having nothing to distract you both from the current situation at hand. Usually you all were tied together by your favourite coworker but... they're gone, and now it's quiet. There was barely any customers, most people staying inside or joining in the search parties. Closing came horribly fast, the restaurant dark as you and Bob were left behind to close.

• You waved goodbye to your other coworker, a deep sigh leaving you as you sat at the counter. You pressed your face into the counter, sitting there in silence. Bob hadn't come out of the kitchen all day, which was unusual considering he always took a chance to see you whenever he could. Your stomach gargled loudly, in need of any form of sustenance. You haven't had an appetite since yesterday, and you haven't touched Bob's cooking that he made for you yesterday.

• You were ready to start cleaning on an empty stomach when you smelt a heavenly scent coming from the kitchen. You peeked at the kitchen doors, quirking an eyebrow. Why was Bob cooking so late You crept towards the kitchen, peering into the door. He was humming a catchy tune, flipping over a burger with a smile. You sat there mesmerized by his cooking skills, which never failed to impress you. Bob had plated the burger, adding all of your favourite condiments and what not.

• You glanced at his face and woah, he was flushed a bright red. He was even drooling. Jeez, was Bob that hungry? Hell, even his apron was stained with blood. Must've been in the back preparing meat. When he started walking towards you, you panicked and flung yourself towards the counter and nearly toppled over trying to sit back down. Bob saw you and smiled brightly, his hands shaking as you awkwardly smiled back. He placed down the plate in front of you and plopped on the seat across from you, where the customers would usually sit.

• Bob's breathing was erratic, his eyes wide open as he pushed the plate towards you. "I made ya somethin' special, sweet pea. My own personal recipe, go on, try it!" You were very weirded out by both Bob and the burger. But you swallowed your fear and picked up the burger, giving it a cautionary sniff. "Now, this is how I like my own burgers personally. I hope you love it as much as I do, darlin'." Bob leaned on the counter, staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

• You caved into his awaiting smile and the mouthwatering scent of the burger and took a great bite, the meat juicy and perfectly tender in your mouth. Dear god, it was amazing! It didn't taste like any ordinary burger, and it was way better than any others that you've had! You swallowed the whole bite, jaw dropping with awe. "This is amazing Bob!" You scarfed down the entire thing, Bob watching you with drool dribbling down his chin. He quivered uncontrollably, eyes twitching as you wiped your hands.

• "Oh man, that was great." You said, a big smile on your face. "What did you put in it?" You asked out of curiosity, watching as Bob dug in his pockets. "Just you wait darlin', you'll be surprised!" Bob put down a single piece of white rectangular plastic, a name engraved in black on the front. The metal pin was bent and twisted, obviously well used. It was a name tag.

And it had your coworkers name on it.

( ah we’re almost done, idk if part 5 will be the end though. thank you so much for all of the love on my work, you all are amazing!)

#yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere spooky month #yandere writing #yandere bob velseb #yandere x you #spooky month #spooky month x reader #bob velseb x reader #bob velseb #yandere #my favourite employee

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angelsanarchy · 8 months

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One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 16

"If I asked you to stay, would you?" "There's only one way to find out."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp @izuoyarmin @mayathepsychic1999

TW: fucking, eating out, fingering, p n v, premature ejaculation, cock warming

MONDAY, 8:00PM

Clyde had no idea what to expect when walking up the stairs to Y/n's apartment. He still couldn't believe she had come to find him and wanted to bring him home. He had honestly never gone home with anyone before and up until this moment, he hadn't realized how nerve-wracking it would be.

"It's not as fancy as your place but its got its charm." Y/n opened the door inviting Clyde in. It was a lot more put together than his place but he liked that there were pictures on the wall of Y/n for him to get to know her a little better. He chuckled at one specific photo of her in a Scooby Doo costume, missing at least two front teeth.

"That's my dad's favorite picture. He got me addicted to Scooby Doo. As a kid who hated going to school, cartoons were kind of a big deal." Y/n explained dropping her keys on the counter.

"I think my mom was concerned I was going to turn out to be a serial killer with all the scary costumes I came up with. My dad drew the line at a homemade Leatherface costume one year and I just sort of gave up the ghost." Clyde offered. Y/n noticed how he swayed on his feet recognizing it wasn't because he had been drinking but that he was nervous.

"Did you want a drink or something to eat? I could make something." Y/n asked but Clyde shook his head.

"Nah I probably shouldn't drink anymore tonight. I think my sorrows are all full up anyway." Clyde joked. Y/n sat down on the couch and invited him to join her. He sat down carefully and let out a breath.

"I'm so sorry I made you think-" Clyde quickly shook his head cutting her off.

"I don't want you to feel bad about having a life. We spent a long weekend together and things happen. Clearly I overreacted because...well I don't usually do this." Clyde had shifted his body to face Y/n and put his hands out for her.

"This?" Y/n pressed and Clyde looked down at their fingers intertwined.

"I don't usually get the girl I really want. All of it just seemed like a dream and then when you left, I felt like I had woken up and it sucked." Clyde still couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. In truth, he felt terrified this was all going to blow up in his face.

"I don't know if you've noticed but I get in my head a lot. I blame the ADHD." Clyde joked as Y/n brought their hands up in front of them making him look her in the face.

"I'm not a dream Clyde. I'm here with you in my apartment and there's nowhere I'd rather be." Y/n smiled sweetly. Clyde let out a shaky breath and nodded at the reassurance. Y/n pulled their hands towards her chest, sitting up on her knees to lean into Clyde to kiss him softly. She could feel him shaking as she pulled away and could see his eyes slowly opening to stare into hers.

"If I asked you to stay, would you?" Y/n spoke tenderly seeing how emotional Clyde was in this moment.

"There's only one way to find out." Clyde watched her smile slowly, moving to sit in his lap, legs locking behind his back.

"Will you stay with me Clyde?" Y/n held either side of his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes so she could see just how blue they were.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to." Clyde's response was so genuine Y/n couldn't help herself. She pulled him into another kiss but this time there was nothing gentle or sweet about it. She snaked her tongue into his mouth immediately being met with his own. His arms wrapping around her back to pull her even closer than she already was. Clyde's lips tried to keep up with Y/n's, pulling her legs so he could lay her down on the couch. Clyde's lips move down her neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin pulling a moan from her mouth as she craned her neck backwards to allow him more access to the skin of her neck and chest.

Clyde wanted to taste every piece of skin on her body. He wanted to leave little marks so that tomorrow morning she would run her fingers across them and remember that his lips did that to her. He felt himself get even harder than he already was when she ran her hand up the back of his head, through his hair so she could pull a fist full of it.

"Fuck." He groaned resting his forehead against her collarbone for just a moment.

"A-are you okay? Is this okay?" Y/n checked in making Clyde chuckle.

"This is incredible. Are you okay?" Clyde lifted his head trying to look at her through his hair. She pushed it off his face so he could see her smiling face.

"I'm pretty fantastic but I think for the things I want to do with you, we should probably go to my room." Y/n gestured over Clyde's shoulder and he carefully removed himself from atop her and extended his hand. She took his hand and pulled him towards her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.

Clyde pushed her back against the door picking up where they had left off, letting his hands grip her ass. Y/n's hands pushed against Clyde's chest causing him to stumble back. Y/n started to undo the buttons on the front of her blouse slowly, watching his gaze be drawn away from her face to her now exposed blue bra.

"Okay, your turn." Y/n pushed and Clyde pulled the bottom of his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in the corner and shaking his hair out. Y/n was pleasantly surprised by the definition Clyde had from his shoulders to his hips. He wore such loose baggy clothes, you could never have guessed he would be so fit beneath it. He wore at least 4 bracelets on his wrists and they now stood out next to his pale skin.

Y/n unclipped her bra, letting her tits bounce free. She watched the slight drop in Clyde's jaw as he gazed at them longingly. His hard on was obvious as it tented his shorts tightly. He knew slow and steady teasing wasn't going to work here. He wanted her as much as she wanted him and he couldn't wait.

"Fuck it." Clyde practically sprinted across the room slamming into Y/n roughly, connecting their lips again. He walked her backwards and laid her down on the bed so that he could take in how beautiful she was half naked on her bed, waiting to fuck him. It took everything in him not to cum in his pants just from the sight.

He let his body fall carefully on top of hers, moving his lips quickly to her nipples so he could flick his tongue against them, grip the neglected one in his hand and leave a trail of spit between them as he suckled at her tits.

"Oh...fuck." Y/n moaned pushing her hips up and catching him off guard. He moaned loudly making him stop. Y/n stared up at him and he was squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"So...I didn't think I would see you today so I'm not wearing any underwear." Clyde confessed with a chuckle.

"Does that mean I can't touch you?" Y/n asked snorting a laugh.

"No no you can absolutely touch me, I'm just letting you know that I'm at like a 70% on blowing my load already so if you could just give me a minute..." Clyde sat back for a second and watched Y/n unbuttoned her shorts, sliding them down with her panties being careful not to touch Clyde in the process.

"You just let me know when I can touch you without it being a problem." Y/n ran her fingertips along her cunt, biting her lip as Clyde practically drooled just seeing how slick she was.

He didn't waste anymore time trying to stay strong. He dropped to his knees next to the bed, letting his face fall between her thighs, lapping at the juices waiting to be suckled. Y/n sucked in a breath from the contact and Clyde was determined to make her cum in case he ended up cumming embarrassingly fast.

Clyde's tongue circled her clit, sucking on it tightly and using two fingers to collect her wetness. Any time his fingers touch a specific spot, her knees would shake like they were threatening to trap his head in her pussy.

"Oh god Clyde." Clyde continued tongue fucking her pussy, looking up through his lashes to watch her grip her tits tightly in her hands, writhing at his touch. Clyde had a secret passion for eating pussy. He hadn't be able to eat a ton of girls out but it was one of the bookmarked porn searches he constantly made sure to use during the week. All he wanted to do was make Y/n cum so he could taste her.

"I-If you don't stop, I'm going to c-cum." Y/n said it like a threat but she could feel Clyde's smile against her cunt. Y/n's hands reached for the top of his head, grinding against his face while moaning loudly. Clyde could feel her cumming, quaking around his fingers and releasing her juices until they were running down his chin. She rode his face and fingers until she snapped her legs like a Venus fly trap around his head begging for him to stop. He let his palm run up her stomach to crawl back to her lips and she had tears on her face.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Clyde was worried for a second until she yanked him by the back of his neck to kiss her. Clyde felt chills when their skin connected. Y/n's breathing was erratic as she used her feet to try and shove his shorts from his body.

"I'm-I'm not going to last long..." Clyde pleaded but she didn't care. All she wanted was to feel his cock inside of her. She gripped his now exposed cock feeling how slick with precum it was before lining it up to her hole.

"F-fuck." Clyde squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of her handling his cock and the tight, wetness he was met with once she pulled him in. They simultaneously moaned loudly. His thrusts were staggered and sloppy at best, Y/n clawing at the skin of his ass for him to be deeper inside of her.

"Fuck Clyde. I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel you." Y/n begged. Clyde pumped his hips almost violently to give her what she wanted, what they both wanted. Clyde fucked through his orgasm, feeling almost as though he hadn't cum in forever as he shot ropes of cum into Y/n. She swiveled her hips with a groan feeling the heat painting the insides of her cunt and feeling at peace. Clyde's arms started to buckle and he flopped onto her breast, covered in sweat and shaking. Y/n ran her hands through his sweaty hair, cooing at him so he could catch his breath. She let him stay flaccid inside of her, feeling his cum running down her ass onto her sheets. The both of them laid completely spent, trying to breath and be as still as possible.

#I started writing this when I got covid so hopefully it doesn't suck post covid #Clyde #electrick children #Clyde x Y/n #One Long Weekend #One Long Weekend Series #One Shot Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #I'm so sad this is ending #16/18

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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Home Pt. 8 || cbf! Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 1.3K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: death, death of a CHILD, house fire, grief. Tags: you/your pronouns, time skip, heartbreak, grief and loss, reader's new family, canonical Ghost backstory. a/n: not proofread. THE NEXT CHAPTER IS THE ENDING (it WILL be angst and nothing else... but I'll write a happy ending alternative soon).

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He was thirty-three. You’re thirty-two.

It’s all over the news. A two-up, two-down council estate home caught fire in Manchester last night. Christmas’ Eve. All the occupants died inside, a family. Four adults, and one 4-year-old child, though they don’t reveal the names of any of the family members.

You’re halfway through stirring some spaghetti in a cheesy sauce as your eyes turn toward the television screen, already feeling a bit of sorrow for the poor child who lost their life.

But then you realize that the news reporter covering the devastating fire stands in a street you’re all too familiar with… And the cameraman pans through the road, showing the house in question. A house you’re even more familiar with.

You stop in your tracks and drop the spoon and the pan. You feel a pit forming in your stomach, a scream getting caught in your throat, itching to get out. Your mind begins tuning out all other sounds in the home around you, your ears ringing.

You’ve tried not to think about it, about him… But Simon Riley has a way of popping up in your head when you least expect it.

Usually, it’s just a stray thought, a leftover of a life you lived together, of a friendship that spanned your formative years. You see a brand of beer he used to drink, feel the scent of the cheap deodorant he used to wear, or spot a car that looks like the one his dad owned (the one you stole when you left Manchester) and the memories come flooding back for a moment.

You’ve healed, you’d say.

You’ve grown up. You even have your shit together! You’re married to a man you love very much, have a maisonette flat in Dundee, Scotland, your own car, a fairly successful small business as a hairdresser, and a couple of “wee ones” running around, a 3-year-old daughter and an 8-month-old son.

So why does it hurt so much?

“Y/N?” Your husband calls out to you when he notices the way you’ve stood still, petrified, in the kitchen, eyes locked onto the television. You haven’t even noticed you’ve started crying.

He swiftly evades your 3-year-old who’s lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring a Christmas-themed picture with her little tongue out.

“What’s wrong, love?” Your husband, Samuel, asks, his hands gently cupping your face as he stands in front of you, looking down at you with worried eyes.

You shake your head and hang your head, shoulders shaking as you desperately try to control your sobs, to not alert your children. You pull away from your husband and you gesture vaguely, wordlessly.

You’ve been together for just about 6 years now, married for 2. He understands you enough to let you pass him to seek refuge upstairs in the bedroom. You allow yourself to weep into the pillows, clutching them tight.

You’ve lived in this flat, and lied on this bed, for the better part of your relationship. It’s warm and safe, and it feels like home… But now that you know that Simon Riley died, it feels suffocating.

Why does it feel like this? Why does it feel like you’ve just lost your footing? Like you lost all you knew? It shouldn’t feel like a tether has been torn between you.

Simon hasn’t embraced you in 15 years… So why does it feel like it did on those cold winter nights where all that kept you warm was Riley’s embrace, his breath and heartbeat, and whenever he shifted positions he accidentally allowed the cold to seep into your warm skin? Why does it feel like those few seconds of cold before his arms came back… but permanently?

Why can you feel his absence in your bones? Why can you feel his absence tearing up every little string inside your heart?

Why does it feel like you lost your home in that fire?

Samuel dares to venture into the bedroom after a long while. He finds you sleeping, your pillows still peppered wet with tears. He situated the kiddos by finishing preparing lunch for them, and then putting them down for their afternoon nap.

He knows about your past. He knows about your abusive father, your battered mother, your friends, about how you ran away. You’ve made sure to trust him with all of that. He’s seen you torn up and grieving over the life you had, the child you were…

But this is new.

He slowly climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he slowly leans his head closer and presses a couple of kisses to the back of your head, his hand gently caressing your hair.

“Love?” He whispers, which draws you from your light nap. Your eyes are swollen and a bit crusty from the tears, and your head is pounding with a crying-induced migraine.

“Hi… Sorry.” You tell him immediately as soon as you turn a bit to face him. “What time is it?”

“It’s alright…” He assures you and runs a hand over your hair gently, slowly bringing it around to your face and cupping your cheek. “It’s just 2:30 P.M.” He replies. “The wee ones are down for a nap.” He adds.

You nod your head and rub your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry.” You say again.

“Don’t apologize, it’s alright.” He assures you again as he leans in and presses tender kisses to your forehead.

He pulls you close onto an embrace, cuddling you close, your leg intertwined with his, his arms wrapped snuggly around your body, his nose nuzzling against the crown of your head.

You feel yourself relaxing. His embrace warms your soul and you feel the tension and the grief become easier to deal with. Samuel is your husband, he makes you feel safe, makes you feel loved.

“Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?” He asks, breaching the subject only after a long while of silence.

“I knew them.” You reply bluntly, the words slipping past your lips quicker than you could think.

“The people from that fire?” He asks. Sammy is smart, after all. The man can’t hear the word ‘Manchester’ without wondering if his darling wife is related to it or knows about it.

“Yeh.” You answer and give a curt nod.

“An old friend?” He probes a bit, his voice gentle.

“Best friend.” You tell him and very tentatively add, “My first love.”

He doesn’t say anything, but rubs your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, love.” He tells you and gently rubs his lips over your forehead, pressing little kisses to it again.

You go quiet again, lost in thought. He allows you to, simply caressing you soothingly.

After long, long minutes of silence, he speaks again. “Do you want to go pay your respects?”

You raise your head from its resting spot on Samuel’s chest and you look into his eyes. “Do you think I should…?” You ask.

“Why would you not?” He retorts earnestly.

It reminds you that you never told him about Simon, about how special he was to you, about how it all crashed and burned…

“Our friendship ended 15 years ago. I never went back to Manc to see him and… well…” You trail off and look away. “It’s just…”

“You think you wouldn’t be welcome?” He finishes the thought for you. You glance up at him again and then silently nod.

“Well, love,” He says as he thinks. “It’s your choice, at the end of the day.” He adds. “But, whatever happened, I’m sure he held no ill will toward you.” He adds. “I’m sure he liked you a lot, just like you liked him.”

You look away again as you push yourself up into a sideways seated position, your hands holding you up in the mattress as you ponder it.

“And I think it would do you good,” Samuel adds as he gently reaches out and cups your cheek with his hand, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “to say goodbye.” He explains. “Find inner peace… make sure you don’t regret it in the future.” He adds.

You simply nod and snuggle up to your husband once more with a deep sigh.

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taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #tw child death #tw death #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #angst #heartbreak #time skip

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darksaiyangoku · 5 months

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RWBY Christmas Tales

Baby, it's Cold Outside

[Arc Manor - Charlemagne]

It was late in the evening and Teams RWBY, JNPR, Oscar, Sun and Neptune were having a wonderful time. They all crowded around the table as Weiss and Blake were head to head in a chess match. Both of them glared at each other fiercely. It was sudden death. Weiss grabbed her piece and made her move. Blake's eyes shrank as she sat there helpless. It was all over.

Weiss: *smirks* Checkmate.

Blake: *sighs and smiles* You win again, Weiss. Good game.

Ruby, Pyrrha, Nora, Whitley and Neptune all cheered while Jaune, Ren, Sun, Yang and Oscar all groaned.

Yang: *looks at her watch* Aw man. Girls, we gotta get going. Ozpin has a new mission for us tomorrow.

Ruby: Oh right! I almost forgot about that. Let's get going.

Jaune: Huh? But it's a blizzars out there! You're not gonna make it all the way back to Vale.

Weiss: Psssh, I've been through worse. This is a mild inconvenience in Atlas.

Whitley: She's right, you know.

Sun: Come on, don't be reckless.

Blake: Sorry, Sun. But if we don't do this, the headmaster will give us one of his creative punishments again.

Yang tries to open the door, but Ren tugs on her jacket.

Yang: *chuckles* Jaune, stop it.

Jaune: Come on, sweetie. Stay. For me?

Yang: *shakes her head* 🎶I really can't stay🎶

Jaune: *points to the sofa* 🎶Baby, it's cold outside🎶

Blake: 🎶I've got to go away🎶

Ren: 🎶Baby, it's cold outside🎶 *takes her scarf*

Weiss: 🎶This evening has been-🎶

Neptune: 🎶Hoping that you'd drop in🎶

Ruby: 🎶So, very nice🎶

Oscar: 🎶I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice🎶

Blake: 🎶My mother will start to worry🎶

Ren: *holds her gently* 🎶Beautiful, what's your hurry?🎶

Yang: 🎶My father will be pacing the floor🎶

Jaune: 🎶Listen to that fireplace roar🎶

Ruby: 🎶So, really I'd better scurry🎶

Oscar: 🎶Beautiful, please don't hurry🎶

Weiss: 🎶But maybe just a hald a drink more?🎶 *takes coat off*

Neptune: 🎶I'll put some records on while I pour🎶 *grabs bottle*

Blake: 🎶The neighbors might think🎶 *holds Ren's hand*

Ren: *twirls Blake* 🎶Baby, it's bad out there🎶

Yang: *smiles and sips glass* 🎶Say, what's in this drink?🎶

Jaune: 🎶No cabs to be had out there🎶

Ruby: 🎶I wish I knew how-🎶

Oscar: 🎶Your eyes are like starlight now🎶

Ruby: 🎶To break this spell🎶

Oscar: *grabs beanie* 🎶I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell🎶 *ruffles Ruby's hair*

Weiss: 🎶I ought to say, "No, no, no sir"🎶

Neptune: 🎶Mind if I move in closer?🎶

Weiss: 🎶At least I'm gonna say that I tried🎶

Neptune: 🎶What's the sense in hurting my pride?🎶

Yang: 🎶I really can't stay🎶

Jaune: 🎶Baby, don't hold out🎶

Jaune/Yang: *lean on each other* 🎶Baby, it's cold outside🎶

Whitley: ...are they always like this?

Sun/Nora: *nods head* Yep.

Pyrrha: Last year, they sang Holly Jolly Christmas.

Blake: *stands up* 🎶I simply must go🎶

Ren: 🎶Baby, it's cold outside🎶

Blake: 🎶The answer is, "No"🎶 *chuckles*

Ren: 🎶But, baby, it's cold outside🎶

Weiss: 🎶The welcome has been-🎶

Neptune: 🎶How lucky that you dropped in🎶

Weiss: 🎶So nice and warm🎶

Neptune: *points outside* 🎶Look out the window at that storm🎶

Yang: *drapes arms over Jaune's shoulders* 🎶My uncle will be suspicious🎶

Jaune: *holds Yang's waist* 🎶Gosh, your lips look delicious🎶

Yang: 🎶My puppy will be there at the door🎶

Jaune: 🎶Waves upon a tropical shore🎶

Ruby: 🎶My Maiden aunt's mind is vicious🎶

Oscar: 🎶Gosh, your lips are delicious🎶

Ruby: 🎶But maybe just another dance more🎶

Oscar: 🎶Never such a blizzard before🎶

Blake/Weiss: 🎶I've got to get home🎶

Ren/Neptune: 🎶Baby, you'll freeze out there🎶

Blake/Weiss: 🎶Say, lend me your comb?🎶

Ren/Neptune: 🎶It's up to your knees out there🎶

Ruby/Yang: 🎶You've really been grand🎶

Oscar/Jaune: 🎶I thrill when I touch your hand🎶

Ruby/Yang: 🎶But don't you see?🎶

Oscar/Jaune: 🎶How can you do this thing to me?🎶

Ruby/Yang: 🎶There's bound to be talk tomorrow🎶

Oscar/Jaune: 🎶Think of my life-long sorrow🎶

Ruby/Yang: 🎶At least there will be plenty implied🎶

Oscar/Jaune: 🎶If you got pneumonia and died🎶

RWBY: 🎶I really can't stay🎶

ONRJ: 🎶Get over that hold out🎶

RWBY/ONRJ: 🎶Baby, it's cold Baby, it's cold outside!!!🎶

Yang: *chuckles and takes off her coat* Well I'm convinced. We're staying. Mr Arc, please join me on the sofa. *kisses his cheek*

Jaune: Certainly, Miss Xiao Long. *kisses her hand*

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lahazywriter · 8 months

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Singing My Sorrows (Reboot Wally x Reader)

A/N: This is part 2, to my previous (Reboot Wally x Reader). The character belongs to @bloodrediscream and some of the scenes are based off her artwork. Love your work! You're amazing. There are multiple POV's in this.

I chugged another shot down as tears spilled down my face. How could he do this to me? We spent 2 years together and he cheats on me! After everything I've done for him, the time I put into our relationship. I call over the bartender and ask for another shot. He slides one over to me, as soon as it touched my fingers I down it quickly. The alcohol burned my throat while my tears stained my cheeks. I bit my lips holding back anymore weeps. A soft sigh was made in front of me forcing me to look up at my server.

"You're going to drink me out of business if you keep this up." The bartender, Luka smiled down at me. He handed me a glass of water and some tissues. "Call it hindsight. but I knew you were too good for him."

I scoffed at the comment. "Yeah right." I take the water he offered me and slowly sipped on it. Luka has always been there for me. We've known each other since middle school, and I helped him open this place up once I graduated college. "Luka why haven't we gotten together? We've been friends together for so long it wouldn't even make a difference."

Luka gently patted me on the head. "Well, my sweet (Y/n) to put it simply. I'm very very gay."

My eyes welled up again and I face planted into the bar. My fist banging the painted wood. "It's not fair, I just want to be happy!" I looked up and picked up my shot glass giving it a little wiggle towards him. "Just give me the bottle."

Luka rolled his eyes at me but didn't argue. He had my card on file anyways, and I had more than enough money to pay for it. I already knew I was already nearing my limit so the bottle was more or less for show. I pulled out my phone and began looking through my contacts. I found my ex-boyfriend's number and proceeded to block then delete his number from my phone. He had been on there long enough. I went through all the pictures of us and deleted them. My heart felt heavy and my brain was dizzy. I hated feeling this way. I don't want to be sad anymore. I looked at the stage where the band was playing and then noticed the nearly empty crowd. I checked my phone for the time, it was almost 2AM. I glided my hands over my hair pushing it back and resting my hands on the back of my neck. Luka came back over to me cleaning a glass.

"Hey, I'm gonna close up soon. If you wait for me, I'll take you home."

I shook my head and tried to get up. "No. You've been making googly eyes at the drummer all night. I'm not cock-blocking your one night stand." Luka chuckled.

"I would rather you safe than me getting laid. Do you at least have someone to call to come get you?"

A small smile came onto my lips. At least someone cared about me. I looked through my phone contacts, scrolling through all the familiar names. Everyone I knew was either out of state or too far away. As I scrolled to the bottom of my contact page I noticed the saved number that I had yet to call. It had been 2 weeks since the meet and greet with the famed Welcome Home star, we had exchanged a few texts back and forth but nothing too meaningful. I clicked on his contact photo and looked at my autographed picture of him. I wondered if he was awake. The idea quickly left my mind when my phone was suddenly grabbed out of my hands. I quickly stood up to grab for it but my body failed me due to the alcohol.

"Does someone have a celebrity crush?" I felt warmth come to my face as I tried to regain my balance. "Ha that's too cute, he gave you his number on his autograph."

I reached for the phone again and Luka took a step back, the bar getting in my way. "Luka give it back please."

Luka looked at me and then back at the phone before giving me a knowing smile. "Oh you even texted him a little. Damn, girl you gotta work on your flirting. Sweetheart you've been single for how long?" He counted on his fingers and held them out to me. "2 weeks, and when did you meet this guy?"

I covered my face not wanting to answer. "The day I found out he was cheating on me." Luka nodded still holding my phone hostage.

"Well, maybe he can pick you up. It'll be good bonding time."

"Luka no, do not call him. If you press that button I promise you, I will throw a stool at you."

Luka looked at me with an evil grin in his eyes not caring about my promised threat. My eyes widened as I watched him slowly move his finger to the green call button on my phone. I began to raise a stool of the ground when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked behind me and saw the guitarist from the band, Mr. Romeo. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 50s who got roped into helping his grandson, the bassist. I remember when they first came into the bar and asked Luka for a gig, promising to bring in a crowd for the experience. Luka offered to pay them because of how good they turned out to be, but they all argued and just asked for free drinks and food.

"Hey, Mr. Romeo do you need something." I put the chair that I had begun to lift back on the ground.

"Would you mind doing some vocals with us Ms. (Y/n)? You know my grandson is always too nervous to ask you." He nudged me a little while giving his eyebrows a wiggle. A nervous smile came onto my lips.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Romeo I don't think I can. I've been drinking all night and I can barely walk straight. It wouldn'-"

Mr. Romeo shushed me and looked at the bar. He gave Luka a knowing look while putting his hand out. Luka slid him the bottle of Tequila I had been drinking out of. He grabbed my hand and placed the bottle in it with a big smile. Mr. Romeo went behind me and started gently pushing me towards the stage. "Nonsense, I know when you're drunk. Take a shot for every song and sing your sorrows. It'll be fun. I promise."

I rolled my eyes but stopped resisting and walked to the stage with him. I looked at the clock on one of the walls and internally sighed. At least the bar was about to close.

"You know I have a lag between my drinks."

Mr. Romeo just smiled ignoring my words as we walked up together. I sat the bottle of Tequila and my glass on the stool that was in the middle of the stage. I poured the liquid into my glass and quickly downed it as the music started playing. I felt my thoughts disappear and any doubts I had about coming up here. My nerves didn't exist as there was no one here to judge me and nobody I wanted to impress. The band started playing a generic pop song and as requested I sang the lyrics. Mr. Romeo was right, this was a fun and making me feel a little better. I began to move body and sway to the music, careful not trip over myself. The alcohol brought my voice out. I didn't care if it was terrible, off pitch or anything. I was too busy having fun to care.

~(o3o)~

Luca looked onto the stage with a bright smile on his face. He was happy you were doing something you enjoyed, even if you resisted at first. He did end up calling Wally as soon as you were on the stage, however he didn't answer. To his surprise, Wally called back shortly after. Luka wore a shit eating grin as he answered the call with no care of misunderstandings.

"(Y/n)'s phone how may I help you?" Luka spoke with a high tone customer serivce voice. He looked at you on the stage dancing, and bit back his excitement not wanting it to leak over the phone.

"Who is this? Where is (Y/n)?" Luka was surprised at how silky this man's voice was. Luka placed his elbows on bar, leaning his weight on them as he tried to picture the face Wally was making. Luka cleared his throat before speaking.

"Hi, this is Wally right?"

"Yes it is."

"Great! I'm a friend of (Y/n)'s."

"Uh-huh, that still doesn't explain why you have her phone. Where is she?" The voice sounded almost threatening, it sent a chill down Luka's spine. He shivered as if his body actually felt the cool feeling from Wally's tone.

"Well you see, (Y/n) is currently on stage singing and she needs someone to take her home as she is very drunk. I was wondering if you could do that for me?" A moment of silence went by before Wally spoke again.

"I'll come for her. Send me the address." The call ended as quickly as it started. It was sudden but Luka didn't mind, he shrugged and placed your phone in his pocket. He'd give it back to you once you were done enjoying yourself. He watched as you sang your heart out to these old and new pop songs. You always say you're never gonna go up on stage, but yet everytime you're up there you end up having the time of your life. Luka chuckled to himself while shaking his head. He moved to the tables of his usual late crowd and called cabs for everyone that was still here. The bar quickly became empty and it was just him, you, and the band left. He switched the sign to closed and went back to wiping down the tables.

The door to the bar opened, the sound of the bell causing Luka to look up. He saw a man on the shorter side with deep blue hair messily styled. He wore a white fitted t-shirt and black pants. His pants were accessorized with a maroon belt that bore a cute yellow smiley face on the buckle. It oddly tied the whole outfit together. If Luka wasn't helping you out he would've definitely tried his luck with who he assumed was Wally. Taking a seat at the bar Wally looked at Luka allowing him to see his jet black eyelids. He could understand why you liked him. He was hot. Luka fished for your phone from his pocket and quickly handed it off to the man.

"Here, so she doesn't forget it." Wally took the phone putting it in one of his pockets. Luka leaned towards Wally and pointed at you on the stage. "I give her 5 minutes before all the alcohol starts kicking in."

Wally irked an eyebrow. "Does she have a high tolerance or something?"

Luka laughed and shook his head. "Gods no. She has a very big lag though. She can start at 9 and it won't hit her until midnight. However, she's very good about keeping up with it so she doesn't get wasted."

Wally gave a knowing nod as he followed your movements on the stage. You looked sober from the way you were effortless moving on the stage and singing to the music. He locked eyes with you and gave you a small smile while waving. "She's pretty good."

Luka smiled placing a glass of water in front of Wally. "You should hear her when she's sober." Wally took the glass and took a sip. He suddenly began to choke on the water as he watched you take a pirate swig from a tequila bottle. He looked at Luka with a confused but amused look. Luka face palmed while pinching in-between his eyebrows.

After what felt like an forever, Mr. Romeo finally said last song. I felt relief flood my bones as I could finally take a break. I looked around the room and noticed a new figure sitting at the bar. My palms began to feel clammy as the figure smiled and waved towards me. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was. Before I could run off the stage, I felt a gentle nudge towards the stool. I looked behind me at Mr. Romeo who just shrugged and pointed at my mic. I looked at my glass that I hadn't refiled since the first song and instead went straight for the half full bottle. I took a huge swig of it before sitting on a stool in the middle of the stage. A familiar break up song started to play, but only one thought played in my mind on repeat. I'm going to kill Luca.

I steadily sat down in my chair as the song played. It was a fairly new break up song but man did it speak to me. I sang each and every note as right as I could. I made sure not to miss any lyrics and to stay on beat with the band. I looked behind me and Mr. Romeo and the rest of the crew were completely lost in the music they were making. As the noise died down so, did my voice and the song came to an end. There was a few claps from the only 2 people in the bar, I took a small curtsey and quickly went to exit the stage. I waved my goodbyes to Mr. Romeo and his group and headed for the stairs, not wanting to be in the way of packing up their equipment. Walking down the stairs proved to be a difficult challenge as that last drink had completely thrown me off balance. I felt my mind turn into mush, and slowly succumbed to the liquid poison. I tried to grab the handle but completely missed. I felt my knees buckle. I was going to fall, but before I could crash down the steps a pair of arms caught me.

"Nice song, you sang it like you wrote it." I looked down to see Wally staring at me with his sly grin and half lidded eyes.

I felt my face flush. I wanted to speak but no words came out. Wally held one of my hands as he helped me down the stairs, he wrapped his other arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer allowing me to lean my weight on him. I muttered a low thank you as he brought me back to my seat at the bar. Luka gave me a thumbs up as he poured me some more water. I pushed it away from me, letting the alcohol control my actions. Wally gently placed his hands over mine as he moved it to grasp the glass.

"Drink some water, and then I'll take you home."

I shook my head, and threw my hands in the air breaking our contact. "Never!" I giggle escaped from my lips as I stretched my arms into the air. I got up from my seat and pushed myself up to sit on the bar table. I crossed my legs and swung them from the edge as I hummed a tune. I felt a finger poke me in the back, I tilted my head back and looked at Luka. I felt my elbows buckle as I leaned backwards. Luka placed a hand on the edge of my back and gave me a gentle push foward. My body didn't resist and went with the motion.

"You're drunk go home."

"Am not. I am perfect."

Wally chuckled at my response and moved in front of me. He placed himself directly in line with my crossed legs, placing his arms by my sides caging me between them. Luka cleared his throat and said something about going into the back. I didn't really focus on it as my attention was drawn into Wally's eyes. They were a beautiful lilac color. I felt as if I would drown in them if I looked for any longer. I moved my hands from my sides and slowly placed them on Wally's cheeks. I squished his face in between my palms.

"Your eyes are so pretty, I feel like I'm being hypnotized."

"Can I hypnotise you to go home?" Wally gave me a small smile and placed his hands on my wrists. He cocked his neck to the side and gave me a concerned look. "How long have been crying for?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I moved my hands down from Wally's face and wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled myself towards him, and leaned down placing my head in the crook of his neck. I just shook my head instead of responding to the questions. I felt my body losing itself to the warmth of his touch. I heard a chuckle as my eyes began to close.

~(-0-)~

Wally carefully lifted you up from the bar and felt you automatically wrap your legs around his waist, Wally fought back the smirk trying to sneak onto his lips. Luka came out just in time to see you off.

"Ah she became a backpack." Luka came up to Wally and gave your head a soft pat. He refocused his attention to the actor and handed him napkin with pen scribbled on it. He took it and shoved it in his pocket, careful not to move you too much.

"This is her address. It takes 15 minutes to walk there and even less to drive. Text me as soon as you get her home safely. My number is on her phone and she doesn't have a password." Luka's gaze turned serious as he spoke. "If you hurt her, I'll know. I will not hesitate to burn you to the ground. I don't care how cute you are."

Wally felt flattered and threatened at the same time. "Don't worry. She's safe with me."

Luka was correct, it took less that 15 minutes to drive to your place. Pulling up in your driveway, Wally looked at your sleeping face a smirk pulling at his lips. You were snuggled up with his jacket on you curled up against the passenger door. He pulled your phone out from his pocket, you had a cute background picture and no password. Swiping into your phone Wally texted Luka your status while also asking for the location of a spare key. Not a second went by before a response came in. Placing the phone back in his pocket, Wally got out of the car and focused on getting you into your home without waking you.

Setting you down on the couch, Wally fixed his jacket on you, covering your shoulders. You stirred and adjusted to the comfort of the cushions, but did not wake. Wally quietly moved away from you and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. He sat on the edge of the couch cushion placing the water on your coffee table. He had to admit it, you were an adorable mess. He moved a piece of fallen hair, tucking it behind your ear. His thumb gently caressed your tear stained cheek. You let out a heavy sigh and a smile formed. Wally removed his hand and took out his phone. He took a picture of your sleeping demeanor and set it as your contact picture. He leaned back into your couch with crossed arms and began to close his eyes.

He'd leave in the morning, for now he wanted to stay in the comfort of your company.

#welcome home #bloodrediscream #reboot wally x reader #reboot wally #x reader #fluff

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thatonegoldenfreddyfan · 5 months

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TSBS INCORRECT QUOTES

except I have a clear fave character --- Golden: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Freddy: Actually, dad, after all these years, I just sort of go with it. --- Shadow Freddy: Why are you like this?? Funtime Freddy: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since. --- Golden: *Answers phone.* Hello? Sun: It's Sun. Golden: What did he do this time? Sun: No, it's me, Golden. It's actually me. Golden: What did you do this time? --- Springtrap: So, what's it like being friends with Golden? Springbonnie: They once referred to sand as "heterosexual glitter." Springtrap: ... Springbonnie: I love them so much. --- Golden: You're pathetic! Phantom : You're pathetic-er! Springbonnie: You're both losers. --- Funtime: *on the phone* Hey Freddy, do you know my blood type? Freddy: Of course, it's B-. Funtime: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-! --- Moon: You use emoji’s like a straight person. Golden: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me. --- Springbonnie: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this! Golden: Apparently, we're not. --- Glamrock Freddy: You played me! Phantom: Like the cheap kazoo you are! ---

Toy Chica: Sweet dog you got there. Police: Yes, this is our new drug sniffing dog. Toy Chica: Still training huh? Police: What do you mean? Toy Chica: Toy Chica: Never mind. --- Shadow Freddy: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza. Golden: So, you’re not going to share? Shadow Freddy: I’m not going to share. --- Freddy: Is that a gun?! Funtime: It's not what it looks like! Freddy: It looks like a gun! Funtime: Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore. Freddy: ...ANYMORE?! --- Funtime: I don’t know the first thing about clothes. Pretty much all I can do is look at something and tell you if it’s clothes or not. This chair? Not clothes. --- Funtime and Freddy: *speaking French* Funtime: I know, I know. Glamrock Freddy: You speak French? Funtime: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Freddy speaks. --- Freddy: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. Golden: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. Shadow Freddy: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE! --- Roxanne: Hey, can I get a sip of that water? Golden: It’s not water. Roxanne: Vodka! I like your sty- Golden: It’s vinegar. Roxanne: …What? Golden: It's vinegar, PUSSY. --- Lunar, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

#circus baby and glamrock freddy show #freddy and funtime freddy show #sun and moon show #lunar and earth show #the security breach show #security breach show #the favorite character is Golden if you couldn't tell

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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I Think We're Both A Mess.

R.B. x F Reader drabble

Summary: Robin and her ex always find their way back to each other, and it just might not be a good thing.

CW: MDNI 18+, wlw, angst, arguing, drinking, breakups, toxic relationship, soft smut, it's the 80s

Loosely based on the song Violent, by carolesdaughter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." Robin's voice said hushed through the phone.

You huffed, the cord of your phone frustratingly too short as you tried to relax back in the comfort of your bed.

"It's like, 1 a.m., Robin," you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

"Sorry... did I wake you up?"

There was a moment of silence, feeling a smidge of guilt, when you decided to tell the truth, because you knew damn well she would figure it out anyway.

"No. I've been awake."

"Oh... well, why can't you sleep?"

You didn't respond, a sense of shame starting to eat at you all over again.

"Is it cause you maybe- you're drinking again?"

Damn it.

"Yes," you admitted, "yeah, I had a couple drinks."

She was quiet, and you could feel her disappointment through the phone, before she responded, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"You know I'm a wreck right now," you twirled the cord around your fingers anxiously.

"I know, I just wish you wouldn't do that. It's not good to drink when you're... sad."

"I know, but that's all that makes me feel good right now."

She didn't respond, only hearing her shallow breathing through the phone.

"So, Robin," you inquired, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, "why the hell are you still awake?"

Her voice cracked when she answered, and you instantly felt bad, feeling your heart breaking in two for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I miss you."

You sat up in bed now, your eyebrows screwing together from the sorrow that radiated through your chest.

"Don't say that."

"Well, I do, I'm sorry," she choked back a sob, which only made your own eyes begin to bubble with tears.

"I don't know how many more times we can keep doing this," you stuttered.

Robin was silent.

"I just want my clothes back," your voice shook, "just want my clothes back, and we can just- move on already."

"But I miss you."

Her voice was so small, so fragile, and it felt like someone stabbed you in the stomach with a dagger and twisted it, it felt like someone took a hammer to your heart, and you couldn't stand it.

"I'll be right there."

You hung up the phone arubtly and shot out of bed, not bothering changing clothes as you were already wearing a tank top and sweatpants- and frankly, you didn't give a shit. You just needed to get to Robin as quickly as possible.

You hastily pulled a sweater over your arms and zipped it up half assed, putting on your sneakers and turned the light off in your bedroom.

You opened your back window cautiously, careful not to wake anyone, and crawled through it, closing it and sliding down the roof, landing on the ground, quickly slipping away into the chilly autumn night.

You trekked through the neighborhood on the sidewalk, the only light in front of you coming from the moon as you journeyed your way to Robin's house, feeling more energetic than usual, but you knew that was just from the anxiety.

What you truly felt was despair, worry and love- the kind of love that hurt so bad, it made your chest tighten, gave you sleepless nights, and you pondered the thought of how many times you had been through this with Robin in the last year and a half. The back and forth. The heartbreak. The getting back together. The fighting. The fear of your parents finding out who you truly were.

You wondered which time was going to be the last time. You wondered if the two of you would do this same song and dance forever.

You wondered if the two of you could ever get over your resentments- the jealousy, the fear of PDA, who was meaner, who was the real victim in these situations.

You came across patch of small white daises in someone's grass, and your intrusive thoughts took over as you decided to bend over and pull one from the ground.

You continued walking, rolling the stem between your fingers, then plucking a petal off and letting it drop with each sentence you spoke out loud to yourself.

"She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me-"

You plucked the last petal off, scowling and you tossed the ruined flower to the side.

"Whatever. Bullshit," you murmured to yourself, as you finally arrived at Robin's house. You were grateful that it was only a ten minute walk.

You stood in her front yard, and leaned down to pick up a pebble, tossing it at her bedroom window that was lit up from the inside to get her attention.

Robin approached the window quickly, pushing it up to open it, and threw out her infamous long rope of tied up sheets.

You sharply inhaled and exhaled, and took hold of the rope, Robin pulling on it tightly as you hoisted yourself up, climbing it until you reached her roof.

She pulled the tied up sheets back into her room, and moved out of the way to give you space to crawl in through her window, landing your feet on the plush of the carpet with a sigh, and turned around to close it shut.

You spun back around slowly to look at her as you unzipped your sweater and peeled it off, tossing it to the side. She was dressed similarly- which was no surprise, given the time of night- a black tank top and grey sweatpants, Robin's hair lightly tousled.

She also shared the same look on her face as your own- soft, sad eyes, lips pursed as you stood before each other, the both of you mute, the both of your hearts aching.

"Thank you for coming," she said gently, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

"Yeah... thanks for asking me, I guess," you ran your hand through your hair, lightly chuckling.

"I'm sorry. I just missed you so-"

"I know," you interrupted her, nodding your head, "I know."

She nodded back, averting her gaze to the floor, putting her hands in her pockets.

"Did you ever really love me?" You blurted, taking a slow step towards her.

Robin then glanced back to you, her face perplexed, one of disbelief.

"Of course I love you, I told you I miss you-"

"No, no," you shook your head, taking another step forward, tears brimming your eyes and you wiped them away quickly, not wanting to appear vulnerable, "I'm serious, Robin. Did you ever actually love me? Did you love me, or are you just too comfortable- too afraid of the unknown to be with someone else?"

"No, that's not true," she tried to reason, reaching her arms out towards you, then pulling them back, her voice brittle, "I do love you. I've always loved you. I always will love you. You're just... mean sometimes."

"So are you," you quickly responded, choking back a sob, "you're mean sometimes, too. I couldn't even talk to any girls, or stupid boys, without you getting all fucking unnecessarily jealous."

Robin began to cry softly now, reaching her arms towards you again, but you took a step back, avoiding her touch.

"I'm sorry. I'm just weird sometimes, you know that, and I've always been afraid to lose you. And I have already," her raspy voice quivered, "but you wouldn't even call me back sometimes, and it made me feel- made me feel like shit. I was always on the edge of my seat, waiting for you to call and tell me we were okay, I always had to find out from our friends-"

"We've already talked about this so many times," you cried, wiping your tears and nose carelessly with your wrist, "I don't really feel like fighting right now."

"Okay," she nodded, sniveling and her breath shuddered, "I'll be quiet. I know I always say that, but I really will this time, I promise."

You didn't respond, frowning as you stared at the floor, studying every piece of carpet, not knowing what else to say or do. You wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her she was everything, but you held back.

Robin's voice broke the silence.

"Do you wanna, you know, sit down," she motioned towards her full sized bed, with a flannel patterned comforter and an excessive amount of pillows and stuffed animals, "or... are you gonna leave? It's okay if you do. I get it."

You shook your head, and you almost cracked a smile at the offer, a flutter of relief in your stomach.

"No. I'll sit down."

She smiled, tilting her head and you felt her giddiness- it was always hard not to with her.

"Okay. Thank you."

You both moved your way to her bed, sitting down side by side next to each other, legs close and dangling off the side.

It was then that you were reminded of how much her presence made you feel- overwhelmed, anxious, heart wrenching- in all the right and wrong ways all at once, and you hung your head low, covering your face as you began to silently cry into your hands again, and Robin touched your shoulder, sending an electrical shock through it as she pulled you in close with both arms, beginning to cry with you and resting her head in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I'm so fucking sorry," you wept, leaning into her.

"I'm sorry, too," her voice was thick, and her hair tickled your cheek in a way you didn't realize you missed.

"I don't know how we're ever gonna be able to fix this."

"Me neither," she sniffled.

You brought your hands down from your face now, and turned your head to look at her as she lifted hers up.

Robin's mascara stained her face the same way as yours, and you hiccuped as she gave you a soft smile, gently brushing a tuft of hair behind your ear, then swiping the pad of her thumbs under your eyes to wipe your tears away.

"I fucking hate it when you cry," she said with a breathy chuckle, "you're too pretty to cry."

"So are you," you smiled, wiping her tears away the same way she did with you.

It was then you noticed that you were now holding each other's faces, almost no distance between them, but you were hesitant to let go. The tension in the air was thick, and your soul yearned for her so much, it hurt. And for a moment, you forgot all about the fights, the grudges, all the bad that ever occurred between you two.

"You know," Robin spoke in a quiet voice, close enough for you to breathe in her scent of vanilla and lavender, one you loved so much, "I still remember the way you taste."

"Shit, Robin," you exhaled, your chest warm and blooming.

"And I miss it."

You moved when she did, pulling each others faces in and pressing your lips together with familiarity, the kiss gentle, and her lips felt so soft against yours, the embrace long and drawn out.

Robin broke the kiss, only to suck in a quick breath, and crashed her lips against yours again, this time more desperate, more needy, and you hummed into each other with relief, hands raking into each other's hair, each kiss harder and faster than the last.

You both parted your lips in unison to deepen the kiss, in sync as you'd always been, and she glided her tongue along your bottom lip languid, making you sigh wantonly, pulling her in impossibly close as she nipped at it, then took it into her mouth, sucking on it feverishly and letting it go with a pop.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, pressing sloppy kisses against her neck, and Robin tilted her head back and sighed, holding the nape of your neck as you bit and sucked a pretty bruise under her jaw, another one underneath it, and one more on her sweet spot above her collarbone, the spot she loved so much, and she gasped lightly, tugging your hair at the scalp in approval.

You captured her lips again, and you groaned, Robin swallowing the sound as she stood up from the bed, pulling you up with her, the both of you naturally beginning to take each other's clothes off in a frenzy, kissing and panting through shirts being pulled over heads and tossed carelessly, fingers sliding underneath sweatpants and panties and pulled down, slipping them off ankles in a hurry, kicking the garments to the side.

Robin moved back, her body hitting the mattress, throwing her stuffed animals off the bed and pulling you in with her, throwing the comforter over your bare bodies, lying face to face, legs entangled and she kissed and sucked along your neck, groping your breasts and smoothing her thumbs over your hardened nipples, and the moan that left your lips made Robin decide it was the prettiest sound she'd ever heard.

She kissed lazily and grazed her lips down your chest, kissing in between your breasts and taking one into her mouth, a hand massaging the other, sucking on it and licking over it with a flat tongue, and you keened and tugged at her hair.

"Robin- shit," you pleaded, smoothing your free hand down the soft skin of her stomach towards her heat, "I need you, want you."

You felt her breath hitch against your skin, and she cradled the side of your face with one hand, the other one ghosting your skin down towards the apex of your thighs, making you shiver.

"Fuck- I love you, please- need you too," she nearly sobbed.

She slid her fingers through your wet folds and you gasped, running your own between hers, and Robin cursed, grinding into your hand.

"Fuck, you're so wet," she breathed.

"So are you," you whispered against her lips.

She dipped two fingers inside of you with ease, and you keened loudly, Robin kissing you deeply and swallowing the sound as she curled her fingers into your familiar spot, circling your clit with her thumb and thrusting in and out of you with a sensual, slow pace.

You quickly followed suit, slipping two fingers inside of her entrance and curling them, her wet walls tightening around them as you pushed against her nub, your breasts pressing into each other as you both arched into one another's touch.

You were a mess of open mouthed kisses and soft moans of each other's names as you worked on one another, digits pushing in and out, grinding into each other's hands as heat pooled in your lower back much quicker than you'd anticipated.

"Robin," you panted, "I think I'm gonna- fuck- I'm gonna cum soon,"

"Me too," she rasped, tears prodding at her eyes, "I love you. I love you so much, cum with me-"

"I love you too-"

You gasped as your stomach burst, shockwaves gripping your body as your orgasm bloomed, and Robin followed not a moment after, kissing and moaning into your mouth as you worked each other through your highs, bodies trembling against one another's touch.

You slipped your fingers out of each other, pulling her into you as close as possible as you embraced, her arms holding you tightly against her, kissing each other desperately through sharp inhales, trying to catch your breath.

You nuzzled your head into her chest, panting lightly and you felt her heart beat against her chest, feeling grateful for the moment you were in, yet the torn feelings flooded back once you weren't so lightheaded anymore.

"I think we're both a mess," Robin mumbled quietly, tracing imaginary drawings along your back with her fingertips, goosebumps spreading across your body.

"I think so, too," you croaked, a single tear shedding down your face and onto her skin.

"What're we gonna do?" Her voice was heavy with emotion.

"I don't know, Robin. I really don't know."

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