#and he said he wished he could lower the prices but just couldn’t

[anaquariusfox]

No shade towards this user! But I would actually love to address this statement or thought process.

(And its actually £37 for you!)

But nonetheless, there are many things to consider when you’re criticizing an artist for the price of their works and here are a few!

How much time goes into the process of a piece(s)!

For example, I made not only one zine, but two in the span of 7 months. While working a 40+ hour a week active job. So all my free time was consumed with this zine. You may think $43 is a lot for a zine, but I am just one person make a whole NSFW zine. I wasn’t one of 20+ artists and fic writers putting one piece into a whole zine. And I won’t undervalue myself and my time! Also, most of my commissions, for one custom piece, cost more than not only my nsfw zine, but both my zines combined.

How much time goes into the technically side of the piece(s) (I.e. creating the actual zine with printing companies and sizing and resizing, and shipping and handling artists usually handle themselves)

For myself, it was hours and hours of file converting and resizing and in the end it still didn’t look good in zine previews, that’s why I decided to go digital.

The exclusivity of the artwork(s)

You’ll find a lot of things of this nature are either limited time products or exclusive to the product itself! For example, all my pieces in my NSFW zine, are for the zine supporters only, as well as my SFW being half favorite pieces and half new, zine exclusive pieces!

The content of said artwork(s)

My zine for example, is a “taboo” type of artwork, it’s basically a book full of porn. Not a lot of artist draw porn and even less nsfw artist, share it on social media! But here I am, sharing a whole exclusive zine of porn for two lovable characters! Oh, and as trans characters haha. They’re t4t in my zine because I draw the representation I want through my favorite characters!

* And in the end really! *

You’ve got to understand, as artists, we are putting out so much free content on social media. Whether it’s every day, every other day, once a week or once a month. You, as a consumer of our work, get free content (both old and new), all for free! Is that not wild?! For example, people pay $10 a month to see all the porn I’ve ever drawn on Patreon on then get to see the latest porn and sfw stuff I post! Ive been told by so many friends that I should charge more even! But that’s not the point of this post.

Artists could never share again, or put their craft and skills behind a massive paywall, but we love sharing and putting art into the world, cause fuck, a world without art would kill me. I literally love scrolling through my social media and seeing all my mutuals and artists I follow share their work and interests through art. I love seeing their minds work and what they felt so proud of to share it with the world.

And on top of that, if you think something is a bit too high in price, just remember all the free content the artist puts out, remember what art piece you love the most from them and why you followed them in the first place maybe! And by purchasing an item(s) from them, is a way of showing them support for all the joy their art has brought you 🫶😊 and just supporting artists in general vs large corporations who usually underpay their artists or just straight up steal art.

**In the end, I won’t undervalue my time and skill for a quick sale cause I’ve had people happily support me at the prices they are and I’m so grateful te for them.**

*** No artist should undervalue their work! We have a skill and took time to create this skill and study our skill to become better and better 🫶***

I do hope that anyone with the same mind set as this user, might have a new POV on the artists side/ BTS side of an artist and content creator when judging their prices.

#artists #art #text #I was just having this conversation with my mutual! who #when I was going to support the whole set of plushies and keychains #but couldn’t it was like $200 usd #so I asked if I could do the 2 plushies and 2 keychains instead #and he said he wished he could lower the prices but just couldn’t #and I said nah man don’t worry about it! making these cute fucking plushies and charms isn’t cheap! #and I’m happy to support you and get cute lil items in return! #and told him this conversation above and he felt so much better after that #I’m like dude??? you’re putting out so much free content on top of super cute merch like a mf machine! #you price it what it’s worth! don’t undervalue yourself! #and there are even artists out there I just love but couldn’t support their items and merch cause it was just too much! I understand that #but I’d never go to their profile and say wow? $70 for a plushie? :/ / #cause I understand the work and time that goes into making it and producing a product!

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚  extra credit comes with a price when it involves professor ackerman. 

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, female anatomy described, reader is black coded, grad student!reader, professor!levi, age gap (reader in late twenties while levi in thirties), praise kink, degradation kink, corruption kink, oral (character receiving), reader gives levi a mouth hug lol, dom!levi, told in 2nd pov, levi is 6'1 in my head and in this fic (he was made short because they didn't want him to outdo eren's face card), mdni

a repost from my old account.

The top of your black pen grazed over your lip as you stared at your current grade. Graduation was just around the corner, it was practically in the palm of your hand. But here it was sliding through your palm bit by bit as you watch your grade descend lower and lower for your physics course. You only blamed yourself. Registering for classes later than usual and was stuck with the professors that had a horrible rating on ratemyprofessor.com.

Your eyes never twitched in annoyance before reading the reviews and rating on Professor Ackerman’s. To rants about how hard his tests were, his harsh grading, and even locking the lecture hall door so late people couldn’t come in disturbing his teaching. You felt frustrated that this one course seemed to be the one to decide if you’ll be walking across the stage in a couple weeks. So, you sucked in your pride and decided to ask for the one thing Professor Ackerman wrote in bold letters on his syllabus that he does not give out.

Extra Credit.

Perhaps, you were wishing the worst as you sat in the library. Your pretty smooth thighs adjust in the seat to prevent the nervous squirming waiting for a reply. Your teeth were grazing at your lower lip as your fingers kept clicking to refresh your emails. When you saw the email, your mouth gaped open seeing that he approved giving you extra credit. You were mentally doing a happy dance as you concluded that this would be another semester of you being on the Dean’s List after Professor Ackerman’s extra credit.

You promptly responded that you’ll stop at his office before you leave campus to go home. Which you quickly got a response from Professor Ackerman. Your eyes scanned over the harsh email of him demanding you to come receive the work now because he refused to wait for a student that came to him demanding help. You let out an annoyed sigh and questioned how could such a harsh man still be a professor at your university. You packed up your stuff quickly and made your way to his office. As you were leaving, you nearly knocked down Historia and Ymir.

“I’m sorry you guys, gotta meet with Professor Ackerman.

,” You briefly said as you went to leave.

“Professor Ackerman? Gosh, the last person, who went to his office hours they dropped the class.” Historia mentioned. She toyed with the ends of her cream sweater.

“Yeah, I even heard they left his office crying,” Ymir even adds.

“Thank you guys, for making me nervous about picking up extra credit work,” You admitted as you watched them disappear into the library.

When you reached his office, you felt so nervous. Your hands shook just a little as your mind was racing with so many thoughts. You hoped you didn’t stumble on your own words as you accept the extra work. You had to walk in there with your head held high and thank him for even giving you the opportunity to get your grade up. However, when your body slid into his office majority of your thoughts went out the window and your brain grew fuzzy.

It wasn’t any secret that Professor Ackerman was drop-dead gorgeous. He aged like a fresh bottle of wine imported from Italy. Many students and faculty whispered among each other about him. Wondering if he had a lover at home or if he even socialize at all. He was a huge mystery.

“Professor Ackerman, I am here to collect the extra credit work you mentioned in your email,” You say.

Your fingers toyed with the ends of your skirt as your eyes were peering at him while he was grading papers. His eyes never bothered to look up at you, “Just sit down and give me a minute.” He uttered in annoyance.

You did what you were told, occupying the brown leather seat that sat in the corner of his nicely decorated office. Professor Ackerman let out a sigh of frustration, “Not there. Right here.” His hand that wasn’t holding the red ink ball pen motioned to the seat in front of his desk.

You quickly stood up going to the seat that was in front of his desk. He went back to grading the work on his desk as your curious eyes once again scanned his office. From the ancient artifacts that were decorating the shelves, the number of books he had, and even the one picture of him smiling with a group of friends. Which actually took you by shock even seeing him smiling at all.

“You know, I don’t really give out extra credit.” Professor Ackerman said as he finally placed his pen down to look at him.

His intimidating stare caused you to shift yourself in the seat you were sitting in. Your fingers toying with each other as you were searching for words to say. You were wondering how could you be so confident answering and refuting him in class, but now that the two of you were alone you were a flustered mess.

“Which I appreciate you for even offering it to me.” You answered truthfully.

You only gained a hum in response before he was back grading papers. “Do you know why I’m giving you extra credit (Y/N)?”

“I’m an excellent student in your class.” You answered truthfully. After all, last time you checked you did have the highest grade in his course.

“If you were so excellent, you wouldn’t be here for the extra credit.” He shot down your comment and that felt like a dagger pierced at your heart.

“Well then, I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders.

He placed the pen down once again just for him to look at you. Once again it felt like you were in the hot seat. He leaned back into his huge leather chair, “You have a pretty mouth.” He bluntly admitted.

His comment caused you to be so confused. But that was until he urged you on your knees right in front of him behind his large desk.

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. The look of innocence painted your face as your hand rubbed at his clothed bulge through the charcoal grey-colored slacks he wore. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he was rolling up the sleeves of the white button-up he wore. When his sleeves were rolled up to his liking, he stared down at you. As if you were below him.

“Open your mouth.” He demanded.

You did what you were told. Opening your mouth open to show him your exposed tongue waiting for his next command.

The pad of his index and middle finger pressed against the flat of your tongue. Your eyes began to water as his slick digits only pushed further causing a pornographic gag to escape from the back of your throat. Professor Ackerman’s lips curled into a smirk as he removed his fingers, a string of saliva followed along with his digits as he went to unbutton his pants.

“Pretty smart girls like you deserve extra credit don’t you think?” Professor Ackerman questioned. His fingers toyed with the band of his Calvin Klein briefs now this his slacks were hanging loosely around his waist. “Answer me (Y/N).” He says as his thumb traced alongside your lower lip.

“Yes Professor Ackerman. A pretty smart girl like me deserves the extra credit.” You babbled.

“Mhm, I think so also. But my extra credit always comes with a price.” Professor Ackerman hummed as he tugged his cock out of his briefs. His member springing out with perfection and the only thing you could do was watch.

Your eyes lit up with eagerness and your mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. He kept it nicely shaved all the way down to his balls. The head of his cock was a flawless pink shade and it was shaped perfectly. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of his tip rubbing at your wet folds teasingly before sinking himself in you fully. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen. The way your knees were on the wooden floor as you waited for another command like a perfectly trained pet, Professor Ackerman wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of feeling his cock inside you.

His hand grabbed a hold of his cock as he tapped at your lip gloss-covered lips. A devious smirk paced on his face before he was speaking once again, “Suck it really well and the extra credit is all yours (Y/N).” He cooed.

Your heart was pounding against your chest as his precum smeared against your lips. You perched yourself on your knees to get comfortable before leaning forward to attack. Your pretty lips wrap around the head of Profesor Levi’s cock tasting the saltiness of his precum. A low hiss escaped the professor’s lips as you could feel him shutter against your touch. Your hands then went up to massage his shaft while your tongue licked up and down the base of his cock. Saliva beginning to coat your hands as your head was bobbing up and down on Professor Ackerman’s cock.

The lewd sound of sucking echoed within Professor Ackerman’s office as you were going down on him. His fingers ran through his jet-black-colored hair as he was turning into a moaning mess before you. His face turned as red as a tomato with each stroke you did with your hands while your lips smothered his tip. Despite being on your knees and only touching the older man with your mouth, you could feel the amount of heat was radiating off his body. Which you knew he was only growing hot with each second when he was unbuttoning his shirt to toss it across his office.

He looked down at you with such a flustered look, it caused you to smirk as you were stroking him off trying to catch your breath. When he saw your smirk, he would return one right back at you But his was very more sinful. “Smart girls don’t use their hands. Stop using your hands.” He demanded.

As your hands that were covered in your own saliva dropped to your side, your eyes begin to water as you felt Professor Ackerman’s hips push forward. The pornographic gagging sound followed by more saliva coating his cock caused him to move even faster. Your tears begin to burn your eyes with each harsh thrust towards your face. Your saliva was dripping out your mouth like a dog and your tears were staining your cheeks testing out your waterproof makeup. Professor Ackerman’s right hand grasped at the back of your head before he’s pushing your head forward. His cock disappeared into your mouth bit by bit as you gagged aggressively. Your gagging sent vibrations around his cock causing Professor Ackerman to utter out a string of profanity words. The tip of your nose pressed against this happy trail with ease as your hand grasped at his toned thighs. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his thighs as he held your head down while his cock rested in the pit of your throat.

When he let go of your head, your head bounced back like a yo-yo. Your chest rose up and down as you were trying to catch your breath. A thick string of saliva connected from your pretty mouth to Professor Ackerman’s cock. Your hand wiped at your tears that were clouding your vision and you could feel your lace panties grow wet at the action that just happened. Professor Ackerman made you choke on his cock and you instantly grew soaked. Who would have thought?

“We’re not done yet doll,” Professor Ackerman uttered as he’s grabbing a hold of your head once more. Guiding you to suck once again, but this time he had both of his hands on the back of your head guiding your movements. “Such a pretty smart girl that can suck my cock so well.” He complimented.

“You look so stunning wrapped around me like this.” He praised through subtle grunts.

Your tongue swirled around his tip and that seemed to push the professor further off the edge.

“Keep doing that and I may cum right in that pretty mouth of yours.” He added.

As you kept sucking at his cock, your hand reached down to rub your wet folds through your panties. Professor Ackerman chuckled at your poor excuse of desperation. “Want me to touch you huh?”

With his cock in your mouth like a flavored popsicle, you would nod with enthusiasm. You needed him to touch you. You craved for his fingers to be the one rubbing at your puffy lips. But through your glossy wet eyes, you were met with Professor Ackerman’s cruel smile. He wasn’t going to give you what you wanted. Instead, you watched as he swooshed around his own spit in his mouth before letting the huge droplet of saliva travel down to his cock that still was in your mouth. His own spit landed on the shaft of his cock that wasn’t buried deep inside your mouth.

“Now use your hands if you want that extra credit (Y/N).” Professor Ackerman urged.

With eagerness, your hand clasped around his shaft and you begin to massage it at a rhythmic pace. Using his own saliva as lube while you sucked at his tip and massaged his shaft. Once in a while, your tongue dragged alongside the one vein that occupied the back of his cock before cupping at his ballsack.

“Fuck, that feels good.” He cursed. “I’m going to cum.”

As if that flipped a switch inside you, your mouth latched onto his ballsack while your hand massaged his shaft. Sucking fiercely enough to gain whimpers and groans from Professor Ackerman as his body began to shutter. You released yourself from his heavy balls with a pop before your went back to massaging his dick, your thumb pressing against his swollen tip once in a while.

“Please (Y/N)—”

“Please what Professor Ackerman,” You cooed while you kissed at his tip once again, your hands still gripping at his cock.

“The extra credit is all yours, just let me cum.” Levi urged as his hips bucked forward just to feel even more friction around his cock.

“I’m not stopping you from cumming Professor Ackerman.” You said as you pumped his cock in your hand. Imagining that perhaps your hand was your tight cunt wrapped around him.

Professor Ackerman uttered a word in German as thick ropes of his cum began to decorate your hand. Your hand slowed down at a steady pace with each pump of the creamy white substance decorated not only your hand but the blouse you were wearing.

Professor Ackerman plopped down on the large leather seat behind his desk as you climbed back off the ground. Your knees were bruised harshly, cum stained your blouse, and your throat still was grasping for recovery due to the way he pushed so aggressively towards you. You smooth down your skirt before picking up the folder filled with the extra credit worksheets. Smoothly letting them drop into your bag and going to make a quick exit. Frankly, you didn’t want to get caught by another student or even a faculty member. Your hand went to unlock the door, but you heard Professor Ackerman’s voice stop you.

“Are you stupid? Are you that much of a nuisance that you’ll go out like that?” Professor Ackerman said, he stood up shuffling to the small brown chest in the corner of his office. His nicely tailored dress pants hung loosely around his waist as went through it.

When he stood back up, he had a crewneck sweater shirt with the university name on it. However, this one was a bit different from the ones that were currently being sold in the bookstore. This was a vintage one, assuming it was from when Professor Ackerman graduated.

You tugged off your shirt with quickness and stuffed it into your bag and soon tugged on the sweatshirt. It lingered with that familiar cologne he wore. Eros by Versace.

“Please return both the work and my sweatshirt by the end of my office hours tomorrow.” Professor Ackerman bluntly said before he was cleaning up the mess the two of you had made.

“Yes, Professor Ackerman.” You respectfully responded before leaving his office.

The thing you just did for extra credit.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #anime smut #anime x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #aot x black reader #female reader #anime x black reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[riverbutghost]

Cold But Warm

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your lieutenant found a safe cabinet. And once all of the adrenaline left your body, you realized that you got a little wounded, which led to you and your lieutenant to have a conversation.

Warnings: blood, military stuff, strong language, Simon acts like an asshole ‘cause he’s scared… Also, this is so rushed and i don’t like this one but here we go lol

Masterlist ~ check my other fics if you like this <3

Also, please send me requests lol

Russia was cold, as usual. But it was December, and you were wandering around in the Russian forests. It was something else.

“I’m freezing!”

Simon huffed at you. He was starting to get sick of your complaints. He gritted his teeth.

“Stop whining like a fuckin’ child.”

You rolled your eyes. He was a good soldier, he would never complain about his surroundings or anything at all. You admired him sometimes, all the time.

He was one of the best, his tactics were always impressive. His flirting skills were impressive too.

“You had said something about needing time?”

His steps faltered for a second. He returned being cold and dismissive in a second as well.

“I don’t remember.”

“Back at the base, like three days ago or something.“

He shrugged. You were starting to get annoyed at him for not giving a fuck. He was always like this.

“Can you slow down for a second? Jesus…”

You gripped his arm hard enough to make him falter. He turned around, took three steps towards you in an angry way. You stepped back at the same time as he took a step towards you.

Your feet slipped and all of a sudden you were on the ground. You groaned at the pain in your butt. He hovered over you menacingly. His eyes weren’t the soft ones you knew. There was something there, an anger.

“I said I don’t fuckin’ remember. Can’t you just shut that stupid mouth of yours for a second? I’m trying to hear something for fuck’s sake!”

You narrowed your eyes at his tone and anger. You wished you had teamed up with Soap instead, but Price wouldn’t let you anyway.

You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt at his sudden change in behavior towards you.

What could have happened in a week for him to change?

“Get up sergeant.”

He turned around, started stepping away from your flinched form. You wondered why he was that angry. Surely, the comms weren’t working because of the weather. But there had to be something else. Something you couldn’t get your finger on.

You got up, took quick steps towards him. His posture was sharp, ready for anything. You averted your eyes from him after checking him out.

“Focus,” You mumbled to yourself, for thinking about him, your superior, that way. What were you, a high school student?

He was a distraction.

-

“S- Ghost?”

You waited for his reply as you breathed a long sigh, the journey was clearly exhausting. And you found nothing, not a single rock because of the snow. It was hard.

You were sweating one second, then feeling cold. Your vest was useless for this weather. You just hoped you wouldn’t freeze.

“Someone’s here.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You couldn’t see anything.

“Wha-“

Simon pushed you out of the way at the same time the shots started coming. You coughed a little then rolled over to your side, your gun ready to shoot anything. You looked down, gasped at how close you were to the cliff. It wasn’t that deep, but still.

Simon was behind a tree, you were laying on the ground. He was a few feet away from you, shooting at anything and everything. You watched him shooting, at the same time trying to make sure you were okay while talking to his comm. He was a multitasker. For sure.

You got up quickly, a slight pain tugging at your lower abdomen. You brushed it off, your heart pounding with nervousness. You crouched.

You quickly hid yourself behind a tree next to Simon.

“Where did they come from?!” You yelled over the noise.

Simon grunted. He wasn’t panicking like you do, again proving that he was always a good soldier.

“I don’t fucking know.”

You didn’t question anything further than that, he was clearly pissed.

“Fuck- Fuck!”

Simon yelled and threw his gun at the ground, getting a pistol from his holster. Your stomach filled with proud for your teammate Soap, for giving him an extra pistol. You were going to kiss him on his cheeks when you were out of there. If you could.

“We have to move.”

You gulped down your nerves. How could you move in this situation?

“How?”

He turned around, looked at you while reloading his pistol. He tilted his head towards the cliff.

“We’re gonna jump.”

“What?!”

Simon turned again, one hand moving to his throwing knife. He threw the knife right into the enemy’s neck. You reloaded your gun, only to realize there wasn’t any ammo left.

“Fuck! I’m out.”

You panicked, it was a shitty time for you to be out of ammo. You didn’t even have another gun because you forgot. Yeah you fucking forgot.

“Jump! I’ll cover you.”

You looked at him worriedly. It was all happening so fast, and you couldn’t comprehend anything. You were going to die.

“It’s just water, sergeant. I’ll find you.”

You jumped after looking at him with determined eyes. He visibly swallowed.

You couldn’t help but feel scared while falling down to the water. It wasn’t something you liked, God it was the worst thing ever. Your body made contact with the freezing water, and you couldn’t help but get lost in your memories from your past.

The torture, the abuse, the training..

You felt your eyes close, falling and falling in the deepest parts of the water.

-

Simon wasn’t kidding when he had told you he would find you. He was indeed, searching for you.

When he had finished killing them all, he jumped of the cliff because he couldn’t spot you from up there.

He searched through the freezing water, even though his mind was trying so hard not to shut down from the cold.

He spotted you eventually, you were laying down on the snow a few feet away from the water. He rushed towards you, hands immediately gripping your vest and pulling it off. He lowered himself down a little, tried to hear your breathing. You were, to his surprise, breathing slowly. Though your shaking was not normal.

He scooped you up, carrying you safely to the cabin he had found while looking for you.

He kicked the door open with his feet, then pushed it again after entering. He put you down on the soft mattress, which seemed clean enough.

He then started working on the fireplace, trying to make something warm for you.

“Hey,”

He sighed at your soft voice, shaky from the cold. He sighed again after hearing the fire’s cracking noise. He got up and turned around, looking at your shaking form.

“Strip.”

Your breath hitched, your mind going to the past. He realized the mistake he made, and cleared his throat.

“I’ll give you a sheet that I’ve found. Now, strip. Don’t want you to have hypothermia or some shit like that.”

You nodded, still looking at him. His eyes moved from your hair to your face, to your body and you shook.

“Get out?”

Simon cursed himself for a moment, then left the room. He thought about the decision he had made, to stop talking to you unless it’s necessary. It made everything easier, he thought. But no, it didn’t. He was rude to everyone except you, until now. He was rude to you too, to keep you from being a liability to him.

“Uh, Simon ?”

He composed himself, then left the little kitchen. He looked at you, your face a little pale. He hummed, tilting his head a little.

“I think I got shot.”

His face turned serious as you could tell from the mask, he took rushed steps toward you. You were holding the sheet to your body, still shaking from the cold but not as much.

“Let me look,”

A wave of insecurity washed over you. You were totally naked, and he was asking to see your body? Hell no.

“Uhm, let me-“

Simon stood up and took a pillow from the couch. He gave it to you.

“I need to see, c’mon now.”

You pulled the sheets away, holding the pillow to your chest. Simon kneeled down, fingers delicately holding your waist. His serious eyes trembled slightly at the sight. You didn’t get shot, the bullet just grazed the side of your chest.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He looked up to you.

“Does it hurt?”

You swallowed the intense pressure of being naked in front of him, your lieutenant. Your lieutenant who fucked you so good that you forgot your own name-

“No, just feels uncomfortable.”

He nodded then got up. You frowned a little. Why was he acting like that?

“Simon-“

“Gonna go get some water.”

You gulped again. It was like the first time you had met. He was making you nervous, and you didn’t like it one bit. You wanted him to come closer, cuddle you to him while you stroke his hair. Apparently, he had decided to keep things professional. All of a sudden.

He came back with a washcloth and a bowl of water. You gulped down your nerves.

The washcloth softly touched your side, making you suck in a breath.

“Why are you distant all of a sudden?”

His hand stopped for a second. He looked up to your eyes, then back down. He continued tapping your side softly, even though his eyes hardened a little his touch was still gentle.

“I’m not.”

You scoffed. He gripped the washcloth harder than before, and dipped it in the water again.

“Stop it, Simon. Fuck, it hurts.”

His hand stopped midway through, and looked at you. He thought you meant the scratch for a second.

You didn’t mean to tear up, but there it was. Your eyes blurred, and your lips wobbled a little. Simon gripped the bowl, a little pressure more and the bowl would break.

“Stop it.” He said sternly.

You hiccuped, the soft noise clenching Simon’s heart. His knuckles were white under his gloves. He looked down and up again. You were fully crying now, your hands coming to your face.

“You’re all I have-had.”

Tear after tear ran down your cheeks, soft sobs echoing through the little cabin. Simon looked at you, you were slowly crumbling in front of him. He made you feel that way, he crushed you.

Simon put the bowl beside him with shaky hands, then gripped your hands, putting them down. Your eyes found him, softly looking at him.

Simon took the pillow which was hiding your chest and put it down, eyes still looking at you. You didn’t say anything. His hands then found your waist, pulling you to him. You immediately threw your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. He stayed still, rubbing his hand up and down on your back. You sobbed on his shoulder.

Simon’s heart was beating extremely fast, he wasn’t sure if it was heart attack. He was scared. He had never felt this scared about someone before. It was tugging at his heart, and the fact that he made you cry didn’t help but worsen the feelings he had.

“Why?”

Your muffled voice came after a few seconds.

“Thought I had to stay away,”

You cried harder at that, hands gripping his shirt. He had taken off his vest, but still the mask was on.

“Don’t- don’t do that please.”

Simon hugged you harder, tighter. He was stupid for sure, to make a decision like that.

“Never felt like that before,” He mumbled, voice groggy. You sniffled.

“Like what?” You asked.

Simon fell silent. He knew what he was feeling, but didn’t want to admit. He was scared, of losing you too. It was all so complicated, and he was tired. Of all this feelings, it was overwhelming for him.

“M’sorry, pretty girl.”

You shivered at his nickname, remembering the last time he had said it. Your head left his shoulder, and you looked at him.

“You’re so stupid.”

You sniffled, an angry expression visible on your face.

“I’know.”

You licked your lips, then looked at him through your eyelashes. Simon tilted his head. Your hands slowly moved to his face, holding the hem of his mask.

He hummed lowly, his chest vibrating. You slowly took his mask off, giving him enough time to intervene.

Your hands roamed over his face, every detail had already been on your head. You kissed his lengthy scar, making him feel alive again. He hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest.

He hummed again and dropped his head to your forehead, mumbling apologies over and over again while kissing your face.

He felt weird, overwhelmed about all of this. He broke his decision in a second just because of you, and he wasn’t regretting it. Not yet anyway.

“Don’t do that again, okay?”

You mumbled, eyes dropping ever so slightly. He hummed, giving one last kiss to your jawline.

“Never, love.”

#call of duty #simon riley angst #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #call of dooty #cod mwf2 #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff

[babygirl-riley]

I have a request for ghost x reader where reader and ghost are in a relationship and reader is going to be switched into another task force and hasn't told ghost and when she tells ghost he like gets all sad and scared that he'll never see the reader ever again and they cry together cause they made such good memories with eachother and the 141 and in the end maybe reader transfer is canceled and she not going anywhere and is staying with ghost.

Change of Plans Pt. I

Ghost and you talk about the new orders that was giving to you from Price

“There’s no end. There’s no goodbye.”

A/N: Yeeeeeaaaah so you gave me ideas and now it turns into a 3 part series. 👉🏻👈🏻 Hope you enjoy the first one 🫠 Little change of plans for the moment 🤭

Warnings: Angst, fluff, established relationship, small very small mentions of smut, small cuddle moment, sad!simon but ya know doesn’t really express it, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Pt. II

The silence was strong, you could hear an sort of movement that the base would make. Someone turning a faucet or a pen dropping. You sat on your bed with puffy red eyes as Simon stood frozen in the middle of your room. You had to tell him before Price announced it to the team.

You fought about for weeks about the orders telling Price to basically buzz off. That this was your team. Your family. So Price being Price tried to have the commander that wanted you on their task force at bay. Until today. Price asked to meet him in the office after the another successful mission.

“Commander Graves is getting impatient y/n,” Price said lowering his voice as you shut the door. “I’m sorry I tried.”

When he handed you the envelope you laughed darkly. “You gotta be shitting me Price.”

“I wish Sargent.” He said frowning, he sat in his chair for a moment before sighing. “He wants you tomorrow night. They are going on their own assignment that they need you on.”

You glared at the envelope, you could rip it to pieces and say to hell with it. But now it’s in writing and pretty sure this Commander Graves made more copies. After a long silence Price stood up to place a hand on your shoulder. “1400 the last plane to the force leaves. Better start saying your goodbyes.”

So immediately you looked out for Simon going from hallway to hallway. Building to building. He had to be the first one to know. You and him had been together for about 9 months now. Secretly no one knew. Maybe they did find out and you were being punished this way. Instead of insubordination, that’s why Price didn’t say anything for a while.

When you found him he was walking with Johnny getting cleaned up from the previous mission. “Lass! There ya are! What did the capt…”

“Not now Johnny,” You snapped, feeling guilty right after. “I need to speak with you privately Lieutenant.”

Simon snapped his eyes over to Soap who was standing in awe before looking down at you. “‘Ight, catch up with ya, yeah.” He said to Johnny who nodded to his reply.

Now you were both here, sitting in your room. You handed the envelope first as he opened it slowly. Simon was confused at first as he read before snapping his head up. “What does it mean your leavin’?” He growled, you thought he was mad at you.

“I don’t know some Commander down in the US needs me there,” You sighed wiping your eyes. “Says that they need a Lieutenant there.”

“But ya not a Lieutenant.” He said gripping the paper.

You inhaled deeply, you pointed to the paper. “Read more Simon.”

That’s where he froze and just re read the words over and over again. “By the United States Commander in Chief Hershel Shepard, you have been promoted to Lieutenant y/l/n as of February 20th, 2022.”

Simon couldn’t believe it, you were leaving back to the states after years on being on the force. He just got you. Finally figuring out what he has felt for months being with you. Caring for you. Maybe even love you. Now you were being taken away. He heard you sniffling bringing him back into reality.

You watched as slowly he brought his head up, being faced with his skull mask. His painted eyes looking right at you. “No we are talkin’ to Price maybe he can…”

“Already tried that.”

“‘Ight then we go to Shepard himself maybe talk to him…”

“Simon, we can’t he is the head honcho. He is the one ordering this by Commander Graves too. So there isn’t any way around this.”

Simon scoffed. “Why have you given up? It’s like you don’t want to fight for this.”

You scoffed back and rose from the bed. “I have been dealing with this for two months now. We have been trying Simon. You think I want to leave them. To leave us?”

Simon stood there for a moment, emotions coming through that he never would think that he would have. All the things you both have been through. It all started because of pent up emotions that both of you didn’t know how to release besides having sex. Then came the attachments. Laughter. Jokes. Bantering. Hell even the fighting.

Simon stood there for another moment debating on just leaving the room. He doesn’t know how to deal with this situation. The more he stared at you the less he wanted to leave, he wanted more time.

“Maybe it won’t be forever ya know? Maybe it is just a train up for his team and that’s that.”

Simon knew better than to think like that, think that there is hope. You were always better than him in that aspect. Looking for the light at the end. Simon sighed and walked to you as he sat next to you. He started to lay down and guiding you down with him. “Maybe.” He mumbled.

You followed him down placing your head on his chest as he combed through your hair. You sighed as you thought about everything both of you have been through. You chuckled making Simon break a smile. “What is it?” He asked softly.

“Remember when I first started on the team and I thought you liked sugary coffee,” He groaned as he laughed a little bit more. “Then like 2 months later you finally broke and said that you only like tea and not the sugary shit.”

Simon nodded his head. “Blood hell pretty sure I gained a few pounds from just one cup,” You giggled as you looked up at him. “I won’t forget when the grenade landed next to you and Johnny during training. You tossing it to Johnny and him passing it back to you. Fumbling it like two blokes.”

You slapped his chest. “Hey! That wasn’t entirely my fault. The damn private didn’t pull the pin so I thought to give it to him. Well I remember beating you at sparring.”

Simon gave a fake shocked look. “Technically I did, it turned to the tie breaker”

You glared at him in curiosity before turning red. “The tie breaker doesn’t count.”

Simon gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index. “If it wasn’t for the tie breaker I would be here with ya, love.”

You half smiled, tearing up again. “I will come back Si.”

Simon’s heart started to ache as he inhaled deeply. “And I’ll be waitin’.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley angst

[dragonbe-writing]

Fallen Feathers

Fantasy AU ft. Knight!John Price

Summary: John Price is sent out by the king to hunt a monster. He wanders through the woods and finds a girl, living alone who wishes not to be seen.

This is Part 1 of a series

Word Count: ~2K

Author's Note: Hello! It's been a while. I've had this story idea typed up for nearly a year and just couldn't get comfortable with it. But I've been inspired by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world 's fantasy AU, and decided just to post this and see what happens. Enjoy!

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he made it to the top of the hill. He looked out over the basin, the sun rising behind him and casting shade from the trees out onto the village below. The village- Edriel (Ee-drill), -was already bustling with life in the early hours. Farm-help out watering crops before the sun wilted them, mothers cooking breakfast for the little ones before their day of chores and play, priests walking through to say their blessings and good mornings. 

A world of intimacy, a world of peace. 

The very things John had sworn to protect, the very reason he was on this hill in the first place. He was a Commander, a third-rank Knight sent out to protect the village. His village. The place he’d grown up, the place he devoted his life and servitude to. 

A monster lived in the forest, he was told. The King ordered him to find and slay the monster. So, John turned away from the village, and headed into the forest.

He used his sword to cut through the thick brush, heading for… well, he wasn’t sure. The King wouldn’t give him a description of the monster- perhaps he didn’t have one. But if he didn’t have one, then was John just chasing a rumor? He had been under the King since he was a boy, it was a little insulting to be sent on a goose chase. 

Slice.

He was a Commander, for God’s sake! A third rank Knight- a position he had worked hard for. And here he was, running around the forest, looking for something that wasn’t even there. 

Slice.

This is a rookie’s task, he figured. Something to keep them busy, to test their loyalty.

Slice.

Perhaps the King was becoming senile in his old age. Or maybe John was just upset at the mission. He saw the way the other Commanders smirked when he was given his task. It was embarrassing, especially after a life of devotion. 

Slice.

The brush cleared away, revealing a secluded area that looked… cared for. He crouched under a branch, keeping his sword at the ready- just in case. A small stream ran near his feet, water as clear as he’d ever seen. There was a garden, and even a house. It looked similar to the Edriel houses, however it was poorly built. Things seemed to be added over time: patches to the roof, new ties for the wood. He studied it carefully, jumping when he heard a noise from inside the house. 

“Who’s there?” a woman asked from inside the house. She sounded human. 

“I am a Commander of Edriel’s army. I am coming in,” he said, sword raised as he opened the door. 

The house was small, just enough for one person. The curtain was closed, engulfing the house in darkness. He could tell she was in the corner, but he couldn’t see her. 

“Open the curtain,” he ordered, his voice coming out gruff. 

“...I’d rather not,” she said quietly, her body pressed against the walls. “I-I am horribly burned, I’d prefer not to be seen.” 

John lowered his sword, putting it back in its sheath. “Yes ma’am,” he said in a much softer voice. It was a foreign feeling. It had been ages since he had spoken so softly. “...what is your name?”

She went quiet, and it sounded as though she was shuffling on her feet. A wave of realization washed over him. He had broken into this poor woman’s home and demanded to see her. She was probably terrified. 

“I am John Price, a proud Knight of Edreil,” he started, hands behind his back as he respectfully tipped his head. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. 

“Adelaide,” she said quietly. 

“Adelaide… what?”

“Just Adelaide.”

A tense silence covered them. He cleared his throat, looking around the house. “..Okay, Adelaide. I apologize for my rude intrusion. If I may… why do you live out here?” he asked.

“People do not stare at me out here. It is peaceful,” she said. “What has you out here?”

He hesitated. His business was embarrassing, but if anyone knew where a monster was, it would be her. He took a breath. “The King has sent me out in search of a monster.”

“A monster?” she asked, voice pitching higher. 

“Do not worry,” he said quickly, raising a hand in front of him. “I will take care of it, you will be of no harm.”

“What does it look like?”

Another pause, this one longer. He let out a low sigh, his chainmail armor clinking as he raised a hand to run through his hair. 

“...You do not know?” 

“...no, ma’am.”

He swore he heard her snort. “What kind of king sends a knight out with no description?” 

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’d be a fool to talk poorly of the King in front of one of his knights,” he said dryly.

“Are you going to detain me?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

“I could,” he responded quickly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was met with silence, to which he sighed. “Do you know of any monster living around here?” 

“...no. But, I will be weary,” she said to him, any details of emotion stripped from her voice.

He gave her a nod and turned to leave. “Good day, ma’am,” he said, closing the door to her home and going out the way he came. 

As he continued his search for the monster, he thought about her. Was she truly so badly burned that she must live alone? He didn’t remember a fire in the village. 

Perhaps she was from Pulsk? 

No, surely not. Pulsk was a lawless trading post crawling with criminals, monsters, witches- she would not have to move from there, her appearance would not be so bad there. So she must be from Edriel. But he had never heard of a fire that bad- he had never heard of a woman living outside the village. 

How long had she been alone? Who else knew she was there?

~~~~

John was sent out every day for the next week. It seemed he’d be doing this until the monster was found. On the fourth day, he stopped by her area again. 

“Miss?” he called out. He heard a door slam, and saw the curtain in her window close. 

“John?” she asked worriedly. 

“At your service. May I come in? Is it dark enough?” he asked, waiting by the door for her word. 

“Yes,” she called out after a moment. He opened the door, the smell of smoke filling his nose. She must’ve blown out a candle. She was in the same corner as last time. 

The light from the door fell on his face, lighting him up with a glow. He smiled at her, clearing his throat. He shifted a bit uncomfortably on his feet. “How is life out here?” he asked, eyes glancing around as he tried to figure out where to look. 

“Peaceful. Quiet, most days,” she replied. His lips pursed, eyebrows creasing. 

“…Would you like me to leave?” 

“Oh! Oh, I didn’t… I did not mean you,” she clarified quickly. He imagined she looked worried, and he smiled a bit to make her feel better. 

“So, other people visit?” he asked with a grin. 

“Well… no…” she murmured, and he chuckled. It was a deep timbre that reverberated through his chest. 

“Right,” he said. They fell into a silence, and he shifted again. It was difficult having a conversation with someone you couldn’t see. “…do you ever miss the village?” 

He heard ruffling- it must’ve been her clothes. “No. I miss the food sometimes,” she said, watching as he looked around her place. “There used to be a woman who sold pastries. I think about her quite often.” 

He lit up, eyes shining and lips stretched in a smile. “Mrs. Dresel?”

“Yes!” she said, the most enthusiastic he’s ever heard her. “Is she still alive? She was quite old when I last saw her…” 

“Yes, she’s still around. Still making those pastries, too,” he smiled fondly, thinking of them. “I have not visited her in a while,” he thought aloud. 

“Nor have I… for obvious reasons…” she said and the house creaked. John looked around at the roof worriedly. “Oh, it does that,” she said dismissively. 

“…did you build this yourself?” he asked her, eyes scanning over the structure. Pillars of wood, stuck together with what appeared to be mud. The roof was wood planks, with some more mud, and dried straw. Simple, but effective. 

“I did,” she replied, also now looking at it. 

“…it isn’t bad,” he said with a shrug. She let out a laugh. 

“You’re very polite.”

“I’m a Knight.”

She laughed, making his eyes tear away from the roof back to the corner she hid in. He could imagine her, standing there with bright eyes. It made him chuckle. 

“My house isn’t much, but it is mine,” she continued. 

“It’s lovely,” he replied, eyes going back to the structure. “Very impressive.” 

“Thank you,” she replied. “Any luck on finding your monster?” 

He groaned, rolling his eyes. His entire body tensed, lips pressed in a thin line. “No. I’m starting to think the King is playing a trick on me,” he remarked, chainmail clanking. 

“Perhaps he’s gone bad? Like a fruit?” she offered up, amusement clear in her voice. 

“Careful,” he warned, trying not to smirk. “I still work for the man- even if he is a bit mushy.” 

She laughed, a noise that made the corners of his lips turn up. He pictured her shoulders shaking, her smile wide and unapologetic. He wondered how often she laughed out here.

“You’re funny- for a Knight,” she poked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“D’you have a thing against Knights?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest but a smile on his lips. 

“They haven’t always been kind to me,” she remarked, making his mood change. His arms fell to his sides, and his eyebrows creased as his smile vanished. 

“Then you must’ve been doing something you weren’t supposed to,” he replied with a bit of an edge. A blanket of tension wrapped around her house. 

“…do you take me for a criminal, John?”

He thought in silence for a couple moments, before finally replying. “No, I suppose not,” he muttered, almost begrudgingly. Though, if a Knight had been rude to her, it was likely deserved. “Never mind.”

They fell into silence, the air thicker than the smoky scent of her home. She huffed a bit, more rustling heard. “Don’t you have a monster to catch?” she asked, voice carrying a sharpness to it. 

He cleared his throat, chainmail clunking as he readjusted himself. “Indeed. Have a good day, Miss Adelaide,” he said politely, before turning and leaving her house, door closing behind him. 

Perhaps she was a criminal. Why else would a knight have been rude to her? It would make sense, her living out here by herself. He would have to go through the old town logs, see if the name Adelaide appeared. Though, it might be difficult without a last name. 

He was ducked under the branch again, leaving the area she had claimed. He huffed, wiping the sweat on his neck with his handkerchief. 

What if she wasn’t a criminal? What if she was just horribly burned? He still could not remember a fire that bad- though, if he looked through the logs… 

He had taken his horse, Obsidian, with him today. He gently pet her nose, sighing softly. “C’mon, old girl,” he said, hoisting himself up onto the saddle. “Back to the castle- let’s get you an apple, hmm?” 

#call of duty #captain price #john price #captain john price #cod mw22 #writing #fanfic #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #fantasy john price #Fallen Feathers #im nervy about this LMAO #ive edited this first part like a billion times #knight!price #knight!au #knight!johnprice

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Could you please do prompt 29 with a fem! reader trying to get price to try new things?

29. I’ll let you do anything, just touch me, please

You’ve been teasing him all god damn day and he was ready to go wild. You’d told him a few nights ago that you wanted to rile him up, to dedicate a day to driving him up a wall, edging him without even touching him. Said that you’d read somewhere it makes the sex more intense that way, and while yes, John is a patient man, when it comes to destroying you, that patience is out the window. But he loves you and he was curious as to how it’d play out, so he agreed to it with a kiss and a warning that he wouldn’t be held responsible for anything that happened once it came down to it.

You spent the morning with featherlight touches drifting lower and lower until you were right where he wanted you to be, but then you gave him a kiss and got out of bed. When he stood behind you and held you while you cooked, you moved back against him, rubbing against the tent in his sweats but when you heard him groan and move his hands to your hips, you pulled away and set breakfast on the table. All day, incidents like this. The almost touches, the promise of the fucking of a lifetime.

You were sat beside each other on the couch, idly watching a movie when he felt the tips of your fingers graze his thigh and he was rock hard in seconds. He couldn’t focus on anything at that point, breath coming in short pants,

“Sweetheart, please, I think that’s enough, don’t you?” He tried so fucking hard to keep his voice even, but it shook and you know you had him right where you wanted him,

“I thought you wanted to have a little fun.” You teased, jutting your lower lip in a mock pout,

“I’ll let you do anything, just touch me, please.” He pleaded, hands gripping the couch cushions, the fabric groaning and threatening to snap under the strength of his hold. He threw his head back with a sigh when you reached down his pants and pulled out his cock, angry and throbbing and so fucking painful, he hissed through his teeth when you gave his shaft a few pumps before sinking down on your knees between his legs,

“As you wish, sir.” You purred, licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue and giving a light suck, he bowed off the couch, already so embarrassingly close to the edge. He dared to peek down at you and saw the mischief dancing in your eyes.

Fuck it’s going to be a long night.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #follower celebration

[bigassmoonchild]

Now I'm curious on how you planned to off Simon like non Canon maple syrup can we get his death or HC on How everyone deals with fucker dying

(i never actually wrote out his death, but i sat for close to ten minutes debating on going thru with it. also MEDICAL INACCURACIES as well as DEATH)

you had helped sedate simon, ensuring the doctors could check on him and make him comfortable. you sat next to him, watching his peaceful face while waiting for the doctors to return with the news.

god, you’d missed simon. he was your alpha, your mate and now the father of your child. these last few months without him hurt beyond belief. the knock on the door brought you from your thoughts, turning to watch the doctor walk in.

she had a rough look on her face, brows slightly furrowed and she wasn’t making eye contact with you. clearing her throat, she gave you a quick glance before opening the file she had in hand. 

‘ma’am, we’ve got the brain scan results back,’ she whispered and your heart sunk. you knew the way she was speaking, you understood why she was talking so softly. you’d done this before, but you could never have assumed it hurt this much.

she gave you a frail smile. ‘i’m so sorry, but his brain is shutting down. he doesn’t have long left,’ she whispered, finally making eye contact with you. you had thought you’d felt nothing when you were told he was possibly dead, but now you truly felt nothing.

a strange sense of numbness spread through your body and your eyes shut. you could feel the tears, hot and wet, dripping down your cheeks. there was nothing left of simon, but a shell of the man he had once been.

your lover was gone, even if his body was still breathing right there. you were alone.

the doctor stood there as you blinked back into it. ‘could you bring his pack, please?’ you whispered hoarsely, feeling the burning of your nose with more tears to come.

how could you love a man who had continuously hurt you, someone who couldn’t even decipher his own emotions? because he was all you had.

you knew nothing you said or did would bring back your mate, but you could feel the pit in your stomach with the realization you’d have to inform them. price and soap, gaz and everyone he’d ever made a connection with.

the knock on the door jostled you from these thoughts and you saw them come in, moving around simons bed. ‘is he gonna be alright?’ price whispered and you shook your head.

‘we were too late,’ you whispered to the group, dropping your head down into your lap and letting the sobs out.

and for weeks you lay in your nest, surrounded by the slowly fading scent of simon. surrounded by all the memories you would never have with him, left alone to raise the pup.

the pack left you alone to grieve. all of you were grieving in your own way. price buried his sorrow with simon, leaving barely enough to get by with his own omega and pups.

gaz found himself training harder and harder. he wanted to be better, faster. make sure he knew exactly what to do in any scenario. he worked himself thin trying to just be better.

soap was hit almost as hard as you, trying to find ways to have corrected what happened. he worked himself to the bone trying to figure out what he could’ve done different to save simon. he spent countless days and nights trying to fix his wrongs but he couldn’t.

he never would’ve been able to do anything different, he hadn’t even been on the mission.

it was raining when his funeral was held. price and the rest of the pack stood around you as you watched your lover, your mate be lowered into the ground. you’d bought a beautiful headstone, it stood tall, with just the same amount of broodiness that simon would carry himself with.

you’d brought flowers of all kind, laying them around his now covered casket as a final goodbye. kissing his headstone, you stood and allowed price and the others to help you home.

for some time after his death, you’d wished for a boy. hoping without hope that he would grow to be similar to his father, but without the same level of emotional constipation his father had.

and it was soap who took to helping you as the months wore on, soap who took you just after your birth to introduce your pup to simon. feeling the love wash over you, even through the pain when you’d realized alpha wasn’t there.

he would never see any of the firsts or lasts.

that grave plot was where your pup introduced you to their own, laying fresh flowers where they had died. and lying just under the newest member of the family, you and simon laid together.

#tw death #simon riley x reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 #modern warfare ii #call of duty x reader #no use of y/n #call of duty #simon riley #ghost mw2 #grieving #grief #pregnancy

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Beelzebub come to God killer cat who is in the domain that no one in the underworld dear to come, but he dose and this area belongs to the cat who is in one of the many forms of the head of the dog and body of a skeletal figured and asked about the cursed he have

And cat just said " Oh yeah you curse alright but not from me as I just do my own things, but seem you are cursed since if your birth by someone else, I can reverse it but you'll have to be bound in a new curse "

-Throughout Valhalla were quiet areas, mostly in the underworld, where others would dare not come, which gave you the perfect place to get away from everyone and just relax and be alone for a while.

-It also gave you an opportunity to play around with your alternative forms, not your cat-like form or your humanoid form, as you could change into anything you wanted.

-You heard footsteps approaching you from behind as you had the body of an unknown creature, but only the skeleton, tall and foreboding, with the head of a dog with large fangs and bright glowing eyes.

-Nobody came to this section of the underworld, due to dark curses that supposedly loomed there, there weren’t, at least not anymore, as curses meant nothing, they were just as easy to destroy as anything else.

-To hear footsteps was surprising enough, but when you saw who approached, you couldn’t help but grin, baring your abnormally long teeth as you lowered your head, leaning over Beelzebub who didn’t look frightened in the least.

-You chuckled, “You are either very bold or very foolish to come here, young one. To what do I owe your visit?” he bowed his head to you, being respectful, “I saw how easily you took care of those curses that Hades asked you to get rid of. I came to ask for your help.”

-You knew the curse that he was speaking of, and your body shrunk, to not be looming over him, but remained in the unsettling, at least to others, form you were now in.

-You leaned in close and inhaled his scent, smelling the curse, “Ahh- you were cursed by one before you were even born, and you have carried that curse for so long, and lost so much to it. It is not one of my curses but I can remove it, for a price.”

-Beelzebub’s eyes went wide, hearing this information, hearing there was a chance to be finally rid of this curse, “What is the price?” he knew not to be too excited, as while you had not shown your cruel side to anyone in Valhalla, besides scaring them a little, he needed to be careful.

-You pointed a bony finger at his chest, “The curse is a part of you, without it, you will die. I know that is what you wish for and what that succubus’ curse aims to prevent until there is one strong enough to kill you, curse and all. I will not kill you, as it is not your fate to die by my hand, but I can remove this curse, but another will take its place. I will leave the choice in your hands, young one, it is a risk of your own choosing.”

-Beelzebub hesitated in accepting immediately before he spoke, “May I ask what kind of curse you would replace my own with, should I decide to go through with it?” Your hand lifted to his cheek, stroking gently, bone fingers against his skin, “Having lived with a curse for so long and wishing for death- what a sad little god you are. The curse will be as strong as the one you hold now, but you will be able to control it except for one week twice a year.”

-You didn’t give him an outright answer, giving only a vague idea before he took your hand, immediately accepting.

-You bared your teeth in another smile as you shook his hand and instantly his world spun before everything went dark.

-When Beelzebub awoke next, he was in his bed, you sitting on his chest in your cat form, looking amused before he sat up, feeling tired before he looked at his hands, seeing nothing different.

-When he entered the bathroom to see if there were any physical changes, he stomped back out, holding a long black tail and pointing at the fluffy black cat ears on top of his head as his face was burning bright red, “What is this?!”

-You licked your paw, not at all bothered, “Your new curse! You now share your body with an ancient cat demon, and it gave you a tail, fangs, claws, and cat like ears.” Beelzebub calmed, hearing this, realizing a cat demon would be better than Satan.

-He thanked you for this kindness, as he felt lighter, freer before he paused, “Wait- so what are the two weeks a year that I won’t be able to control this curse?”

-You said your answer like it was no big deal, “Oh- you’ll go into heat twice a year and you will need someone to *explicit* your *explicit* and *explicit-explicit-explicit* you at least twice a day for a whole week to keep you under control or you’ll go crazy.”

-Beelzebub was white, collapsing to his knees in shock, hearing of his new fate as you licked your paw, “Do you have someone who can do that for you?” he didn’t answer, instead falling to his side, his eyes spinning as his processed this new curse.

-What has he done to himself?

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror beelzebub

[silli---lilli]

Part 4 - Blind Soap and Wounded Ghost/Soulmates

AO3 whole fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50092006

Johnny has been temporarily blinded, Ghost had a private room to deal with his wounds until Soap gets moved in. Ghost has the mark of a soulmate appear.

TW: Injury

Part3:

“They said you’re well. Leaving soon.” Price sat across from Simon at a small table in the cafeteria on a lower floor of the hospital.

The man had been around, Simon felt guilty for feeling so alone, knowing there was at least one person that cared for him.

“If things stay steady.” He sipped his tea, he looked out the window, and he wished to be back in his room. With Johnny.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Price had half a smile when Simon looked back at him and the accusation wasn’t unkind. And it wasn’t unknowing.

“How could you tell?”

“It’s my job to tell.” He shook his head. “It happened here? You were always a magnet for horrible coincidences.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Simon never looked back at his captain. “He’s back in my room right now. We were bunked together.”

--

Johnny still couldn’t see. Not fully. A bit of light recognition had found him and hope carried him in the form of Simon’s words. That he could see. That the injury to his eyes must not be permanent, must not be a scar. But the science wasn’t perfect and when he was alone he wavered.

And he knew Simon was leaving soon. Simon never said it but he heard the nurses and doctors speaking to him about his future plans. He was healed. He would go home soon, and then to rehab, and then back to work and Johnny would just lay there, by Simon’s window alone.

He’d been a mess of emotion in the days after their bond was revealed. He couldn’t hold it against Simon for keeping it secret, he thought he probably would have done the same. And it gave him great insight into the man he couldn’t yet see.

They spoke a lot. Johnny marveled at how his voice began to sound different with use. How it held a warmth with him that he hadn’t heard when he spoke to others. Johnny knew Simon’s CO had come to visit him that day and that he met him downstairs rather than rub it in Johnny’s face. It made him sad. He would have liked to meet someone else that knew him.

He could hear Simon walking down the hall a long time before he reached the room. His gait wasn’t perfectly even, and especially light from years of covert work, but it was familiar to him. It made him feel safe. His life as he knew it was over but he felt anchored to the other man. He felt a possibility of something more. He turned to face him as he entered, and Simon didn’t bother stopping on his side of the room. He came to Johnny’s, taking his usual place in the chair beside his bed. It had remained empty of visitors, but he took it easily.

“How was it?” He asked.

He swore he heard Simon shrug. “Fine. As to be expected.”

“He has work for you?”

Simon chuckled. Johnny found he’d like to bottle the sound for later. “He won’t tell me anything until I get a medical all clear.” He cleared his throat. “And a psych eval.”

Johnny laid his head back against his pillows. That meant he’d told his Captain about the bond. Anyone who wanted to fight with a soulbond had to be assessed separately, to determine if they could properly focus, if they could continue to make decisions that benefited the team as a whole.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” He breathed. He had managed to ruin Simon’s grand return.

Simon didn’t sigh. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but he stood. Johnny could hear him move closer. Stand at the edge of his bed. “Now why would you apologize for that?”

Johnny shifted, uncomfortable. He could imagine their dynamic if all were well, but he was so weak like that. He wasn’t afraid of Simon, but he felt so much less. “It’s the mark, isn’t it?”

Simon shrugged again, and his hand found Johnny’s arm. Like it had the first night he comforted him. It had become common between them. “Sure, but the mark isn’t your fault, John. It just is what it is.”

Johnny groaned again and pressed his hands to his eyes. He knew it was a bad habit but damnit he wished he could see. “When?”

Simon loosened his grip, running his hand up Johnny’s arm. “When what?”

“When do you leave?”

Simon let go of him, walking toward the window. Making Johnny’s stomach drop against all his preparedness. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you about that.”

Johnny was better, his body healed. The scars he’d left on Simon were no longer loud and achy. And he was amazed by how the man had gone from not wanting to chat to wanting to know everything about him. They’d both found the prospect of a mate to be terrifying, that they were the wrong men and the wrong souls to burden another and the universe had seen that truth as an opportunity. Johnny had learned little of Simon’s past, only that he had been through some truly horrible things, losses, and that he didn’t like being seen.

He supposed that was why they had connected at all. That inhibition was meaningless to eyes that couldn’t see. And he supposed Simon would go back to his life, that Johnny would become one of the marks on his to-do list until he could function. He could imagine the man coming to see him a couple of times a week, smelling like winter and the city and bringing him something he missed from the outside. It didn’t feel like enough.

He cleared his throat. “Okay.”

Simon stayed facing the window. Johnny could hear the path of his voice off the glass and the wall and indirectly to his ears. “I’d like to take you with me.”

Simon knew it was quite a proposition. He had lived alone his entire life, even when sharing his home. Even as a child, with his family, he had been isolated. Ostracized. He liked working with a team, but Johnny was the first person he wanted close. It was under his skin.

He turned and looked at him. He knew Johnny knew he was watching him. He dropped his shoulders, his unseeing eyes widened a bit and Simon felt he might have misjudged things. He was deathly afraid of rejection, but they had only gotten closer. He swallowed. That didn’t change that he was never going to force anything on him. Especially not when he felt so vulnerable.

“Simon, that wouldn’t make any sense.” Johnny sounded like he was trying to be logical.

He turned to face him. “Why’s that?”

“I…” Johnny half-laughed, the forced smile crinkling the corners of his blue eyes. “I’m like a child. I need everything done for me.”

“That’s not true.” Simon said, softly. He knew Johnny was perfectly capable, but he wanted to help him.

“You would have to pick my clothes, make my meals. Anything I needed to go out for, I can’t drive. I can’t walk to the train. I can barely do anything.”

Simon watched him carefully. The wheels in his mind turning, but his shoulders lowered, already defeated. He knew the feeling, he knew what it was like to be less than, to be impatient with yourself and a process you couldn’t rush. But he also knew him to be resilient, he’d noticed that about him in the very beginning, weeks before, and he knew him to be kind and incredibly intelligent. He was the missing broken piece of Simon, he fit his jagged edges perfectly and if Johnny could be his warmth and gentleness and patience, then Simon could be his eyes.

“It’s such a small price, Johnny. You think I can’t handle picking your clothes? Cooking for you?”

“No, I know you can.” Johnny mumbled.

“You could stay here, longer than you need to, alone. Or you could go back up to Glasgow and stay with your family, hours from the doctors you need to see and with no privacy. Or you can stay with me. Here in the city. Close to your appointments and anything else you might need.” Johnny’s eyes just searched, he looked distraught by the idea of any of the options. “You need to be out walking, getting some fresh air. You need space to take care of yourself. You need a bed that fits.” Simon motioned to the hospital bed. Johnny wasn’t as large as Simon but large enough to be uncomfortable. “You need a real meal.”

“I’m aware of what I need.” He turned his face toward Simon. “But I can wait. Until my sight is back. Then we can talk about living arrangements.”

Simon walked closer to him, not touching him. Not begging. Yet. “I don’t think this is good enough for you. I want you with me.”

Johnny laid his head back. “You’re going to leave.”

He shook his head. “Not for a long time. I have months of rehab still, and even then I can tell Price doesn’t want to send me out. Maybe I lead remotely for a while, I don’t know.” Maybe I retire. The thought surprised him and he swallowed.

Johnny would go back to work, too, eventually. He wanted to, anyway. “What if my sight never comes back?”

He was waiting for that. He knew Johnny thought it would be temporary, Simon caring for him. That it must be the reason the older man would ask. But he didn’t need Johnny’s eyes to feel he had all of him.

“What if?”

Johnny ran his bottom lip through his teeth, frustrated. It was what Simon wanted, really. To get his truth out of him however he could. “A soulmate is supposed to provide. It’s not fair.”

“Losing your eyes is unfair, you’re right.” Simon shook his head. “But you provide more to me than I think you realize. And leaving you here would be so wrong of me, Johnny. They don’t care about you. They don’t know what you need.”

“And you care about me?” Johnny didn’t turn his eyes toward Simon, but they were open, searching again.

“Yes.” Simon said quietly. “I know I’m not the most heartfelt person, I’m not used to feeling close to someone, but the feeling is undeniable….to me. If it’s not for you, Johnny, you must know I would never force you to do anything, that’s not what I’m here for–"

Johnny blinked. It was one of the longer strings of words he’d heard out of the man’s mouth. And he understood. The connection was real, he couldn’t deny it anymore than he could deny his own blindness. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was whole truth. Very nearly tangible, like a scar. And he hadn’t meant to make Simon feel like he was being rejected.

He thought of how gentle he had always been, a hardened, broken, stealth killer of a man and somehow Johnny had been born on the wrong side of his walls. The inside. And he knew Simon was protective of him. He knew he cared. Those weren’t things a man like him could fake. But he didn’t want to become a burden. He didn’t want to have to beg for help, for small kindnesses. He’d always been able to care for himself. To figure it out. He couldn’t imagine forcing that wedge between them so early, it would devastate him.

“You’re not forcing anything, Simon. I know that.” He swallowed. “It’s undeniable to me, too, it’s….it’s science. It’s real. And I want it, you don’t have to worry about that but…but you’ll grow tired of me. It might seem sweet now, to have to lead me around like a lost dog, but it will become a burden.”

“Your eyes will come back, Johnny.” Simon touched him, then, emphasizing his words. “You’re no lost dog. I don’t see it that way.”

“They might not.”

“Fine.” Simon shrugged. “I don’t want to be seen anyway.”

Johnny laid a hand over Simon’s where it rested in its usual place on his arm. His cast was off, his wrist healed, but Simon was still careful with him. “I’d like to see you. I hate that I can’t.”

“You see more than most.” Simon breathed. A painful admission, he could no longer hide.

“Maybe we make it a trial period. Give it a week. See if it’s something you can stand.”

“I think you underestimate my tolerance.” Simon spoke so softly. Johnny wanted to go home with him. He wanted to lie beside him for real. Feel more of him.

It wasn’t something they’d spoken about. Being physical. Neither of them needed it, he supposed, they were cemented in place, that could come when it felt natural. If it did. Plenty of soulmates remained platonic, though it wasn’t something he could imagine.

The thought made him realize they had plenty to talk about. They needed to be alone and he didn’t have much desire to wait.

“I don’t want you just to tolerate me.”

“Trust me, Johnny. I won’t be. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, believe me. And I don’t pity you. I just want you there. I’d like to sit somewhere comfortable together. I’d like to take you to dinner.”

The last words were like an afterthought but Johnny wanted the same thing. He reached for Simon’s face. Also not an uncommon gesture between them. It was affectionate but it also gave him an idea of who stood beside him. His strong jaw and soft lips and long lashes. “I’m going to talk to your doctors today. I’m supposed to be discharged at the end of the week. I need to go home and make sure it’s livable. And then I’m coming to get you.”

#call of duty #cod #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soapghost #john soap mactavish #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #i will go down with this ship

[ragingbookdragon]

Something about being thirty-nine doesn’t sit well with Alejandro. Every year reminded he’s getting older, the soldiers are getting younger, replacing the men and women who are finally retiring and spending life with their family. Alejandro ages with Las Almas, but his soul still feels as young as it did when he was seventeen, riding bikes along the peaks of the mountains with Rudy, standing atop the highest one, staring down at their city bathed in a golden crest, all their problems gone as they shout their dreams from the high heavens above and below. I want to see Las Almas free! Alejandro sometimes wishes he could go back to seventeen. So many choices he could undo, make right with people he did wrong, stop things. But he lives in the present with his actions and consequences.

Young as he may be inside, his body tells him otherwise. Every day he wakes with a new pain somewhere. His lower back, his knees, his shoulders. He thinks about the pain he used to feel when he was a teen and Abuelo would put him and Rudy to work in the gardens, hands and knees in the dirt, pulling weeds and resituating plants, hoeing the long planes of the ground, sweat dripping down his face, chest heaving with each breath. An all over body ache that was soothed with hot water and a good night’s rest—some things couldn’t be solved so easily now.

His soldiers had gifted him numerous trinkets, a few bottles of liquor, others cards with a few twenties, anything above he gave back and hounded his men about not being worth that much and that they needed it more. A few gifts even came in from the 141, something Alejandro was very happy for. Price had sent along a goody bag full of cigars, liquor, and a really intricate looking knife courtesy of Ghost, along with a note that said next year they’d all get together to celebrate his fortieth.

Alejandro was content to share his cigars and liquor with Rudy as they stared up at the night sky on the back of Alejandro’s porch, quietly reminiscing and laughing over the stories they’d made over the years when a knock sounded from the front door. Immediately the two were on guard as someone called out, “Colonel Vargas! I have a delivery from Mistress Spades!”

Alejandro relaxed, if any, and replied, “Around the back!” he’d nodded to Rudy, who’d already had a handgun waiting, and when the man came around, he held up his hands.

“I’m unarmed, sir! Just a package for you!” he had the package in his left hand, small enough that it couldn’t be an explosive, but then again, he’d seen some very impressive bombs be smaller. “Mistress Spades called for me in Laredo. I run interference for her in that area and connect with Houston. She had a package sent here and had me deliver it.”

Alejandro walked over, Rudy’s sights trained on the man, and held out his hand.

“Here you are, sir,” the man said and handed it to him. “She said to be extra careful with it, that it took forever to track it down and if I lost it, it’d be my ass.”

He laughed. “Sounds like her.” He looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded at Alejandro then to Rudy and disappeared to the front, where an engine started then the echoing of him driving off reached them.

He returned to the porch and sat back next to Rudy, who was curiously awaiting him to open it. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he retorted. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Ábrelo!”

Alejandro laughed as turned the box over. A beautifully decorated box, no bigger than his palm, wrapped in thick black paper and sealed with a gold wax stamp that had Spades’ symbol on it. He gently popped the wax seal and lifted the paper, carefully unwrapping the small black box beneath. He lifted the top and picked up the gray card, elegant crimson writing he recognized as Spades’.

Catholicism always confused me, considering the idea of salvation and talking to God is something you are supposed to do in private one on one and not with a priest who orders you to pay penance for your sins. To each their own though, if that’s what helps you sleep at night. Happy Birthday, Alejandro. With love, Spades ♠

He chuckled and put the car aside before shifting the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. His eyes widened as he stared at it, heart fluttering in his chest as he reached to touch it. “Qué es?” Rudy asked, and when Alejandro didn’t respond, he leaned over, concern in his voice as he asked again, “¿Alejandro? ¿Qué pasa? ¿Qué es?”

Alejandro lifted the rosary from the box. An ornate and antique piece, made of bronze with ruby beads, the Infant of Prague sitting just above the crucifixion. Tears gathered in his gaze as he ran his thumb over the cross and flipped it, seeing the inscribed initials he so fondly remembered.

“Es el rosario de mi madre,” he managed to say, a bubble of laughter escaping him as he wiped a stray tear. “No lo he visto desde que tenía siete años. Había perdido la esperanza de encontrarlo.” Alejandro couldn’t stop the tears as he closed his eyes and pulled the rosary to his forehead, a quiet prayer for his mother. He missed her terribly every day, had never stopped looking for the cartel men that had murdered her and stolen her rosary that day at seven years old. Now it was home again.

Rudy leaned over and wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him tight and joked, “Déjale a Spades encontrar algo que has estado tratando de encontrar durante treinta y dos años en menos de seis meses.”

Alejandro couldn’t help but laugh, a full one from his chest that made his stomach hurt and he nodded his head, slipping the rosary on to rest under his shirt at his heart. It felt like his mother’s arms were around him, her lips pressed to his head like she always had done. She was home.

He looked at Rudy and smiled. “Este ha sido uno de los mejores cumpleaños de mi vida, Rudy.”

Rudy was already clambering to his feet, pulling Alejandro with him so they could go eat dinner. “Lo ha hecho, pero el año que viene va a ser increíble porque puedo darte cuarenta puñetazos y no tener ninguna repercusión.”

“OYE!”

#spades #alejandro vargas x reader imagines #alejandro vargas x reader imagine #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas imagines #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #alejandro mw2 #rudy parra #rodolfo parra #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty imagines #call of duty imagine #call of duty #modern warfare 2 imagines #modern warfare 2 imagine #modern warfare 2 #mw2 imagines #mw2 imagine #mw2

[throwingmetothelions]

I wish Jolly wasn’t my second hardest to write, so I gave it my best. I’m not mad at it :)

Smut Prompt 130. “your skin is so soft”

Jolly x OC

Her schedule was absolutely slammed, but she knew that the title of band manager wouldn’t come without a price. Board meetings, yelling at hotel managers, and wrangling all of the techs all of the time often left her with headaches on top of headaches. She didn’t manage Bad Omens. She couldn’t.

Fucking her clients just wasn’t in the cards, and nothing was going to take her … break away from her.

——-

That stress relief came in the form of a 6’1 tattooed man that, in her opinion, was built like some sort of statue. His muscles spoke toward athleticism and hard work, not vanity or pride. They met at the Sumerian offices. He was there to drop off paperwork regarding his stay in the US, and she was there to stick her finger in the chest of the representative that thought emailing her client to discuss merch percentages, and purposefully leaving her out of that email was a good idea.

It hadn’t taken long. A business card with a different number scribbled on it turned into a drink. The drink turned into a “I guarantee that my guest room has a comfier bed than your hotel, Joakim,” and that became a “please … it’s Jolly, pretty lady”.

He stayed with her, but the handle to the guest bedroom was never touched.

———

“And then Rory fell over! Like just completely missed the riser and bonk. Right to the ground,” she giggled as she passed the bottle of white wine back to him. The marble of the kitchen island was cold against her now bare ass as she told stories of her last tour with Dayseeker.

Sometimes you drink and you decide that pencil skirts aren’t comfy, and sometimes you say “this is my house and I do what I want,” as you reduce yourself to a button up and panties and throw your ass up on the island to be taller when you talk to the statue man. She did, anyway.

“I could definitely see that, but it’s so dark during their set! We have a row of special lights, Motionless in White uses UV tape … there are ways around falling,” he murmured the last bit as he brought the bottle to his lips.

Her hands held her body weight up behind her as she leaned back. She didn’t have a reply. The conversation had fizzled away the moment she caught him stealing peeks at her thighs and letting his eyes roam down her legs. A leg extended out and her foot came to rest on his belt buckle.

Jolly’s breath stilled in his throat as he set the wine down next to her.

“Can I … I wanna …,” she started to lean forward as her eyes searched for an answer in his. Call it the businesswoman in her - straight to the fucking point. No frills.

Her inner businesswoman met the absolute romantic in him as a quick hand held the back of her neck to bring her into a kiss; parted lips, firm, and full of need.

“Your skin is so soft,” he breathed the compliment down over her mouth as his hands held her hips to his. Going back in to capture her lips, he used one hand to work his pants down and off of his body.

She wordlessly took the sides of his face in her hands and began to lean back towards the island a little bit as she floated.

Tongues met, tiny moans were swallowed, and his large hand swooped under her lower back to pull her body closer to his.

It took absolutely no time for Jolly to pull himself out of his boxers as she pulled her panties down and left them to hang off one leg.

“Oh shit,” he groaned as her slick center rubbed up against his cock. “You feel so good,” he kissed her again as his hips kept up the slow and dangerously filthy pace.

Her head fell back and she scoffed under breath as her hand traveled down, “you have no fucking clue,” she said as she grabbed the base of his dick to guide his length inside of her, letting out a cry as he bottomed out.

All Jolly could do was clamp his lips and squeeze his eyes shut when he felt her walls close around him.

Algebra. The Humane Society advertisement. That weird fucking face Folio makes when he gets the zoomies. Come the fuck on man. Think of anything to draw this out.

His hips snapped and he couldn’t stop himself. What little self control he had was diluted with wine and the visual of her wet lips gripping his dick as he pounded away. “God I wanna fucking cum,” he grunts against her forehead as she digs her nails into his shoulders. He wrenches her fingers from his muscle and all but throws her hand down to her core. “You better hurry up princess,” he warns against her skin.

She rubs tight circles as she sinks into the way he feels inside of her. The tingle of an impending orgasm sets itself into the balls of her feet and the tips of her fingers. “Fill it up please,” she moans as she hits the edge.

Jolly doesn’t say a word. Can’t. Just fucks her into the island for all he’s worth and he’s sure he left bruises digs his fingers into the meat of her thigh.

As they come down sweaty and heaving, he grabs the bottle of wine and takes a solid sip.

“So,” he pants, “all my shit is at that hotel. You said your bed here was more comfortable, right? Would you uhm … wanna test your theory out?”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #auntievwroteit

[callsign-bunnie]

Hi, sorry I wasn't more specific, haha. I'd love a GazAlex Restaurant AU oneshot (I mean I'd love your Restaurant AU in a fic but you already have so much to write so I don't want to overwhelm you). You could do whatever you want but I love the cook/ server dynamic so a focus on that would be nice. Thank you so much, and no pressure :)

Me: Man, I wonder how that oneshot I wrote for Gazalex did, I feel like it hardly got any notes It: *didn't get any notes because it was still in my drafts* Me: :O Anyway... I'm sorry, I don't even know how this happened

--

Price was clearly concerned that Gaz was rushing him out, which Gaz would admit had him slightly panicky, but he didn’t say anything, just gently nudging Price at the door. “Kid, I can stay and help you close.”

“No, no, it’s fine! Go, go spend time with Nik!” Gaz insisted, shaking his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise! I don’t need you to stay, I’ve closed up the restaurant many times by now!”

Price frowned but then shook his head, seeming to finally relent. “Alright… alright, I believe you. But… if you need my help-”

“Just call, I got it.” Gaz answered, relaxing and smiling. “It’s just closing, Rudy does it by himself all of the time.”

“Rudy is both not my adopted son, and also could organize heaven if he tried.” Price snorted, shaking his head. “Can I have my coat, at least?” He gestured to the host’s table, where the coat was sitting, and Gaz was quick to grab it and hand it over, smiling innocently as Price raised an eyebrow.

He was suspicious, Gaz knew, but Gaz had no plans to spill anything. Eventually, he finally sighed and said goodbye, before he walked out and went to his car. As soon as he drove off, Gaz rushed to the back, pushing the door in. “He’s gone!” He called.

“Finally.” Gaz startled at Alex’s voice coming from behind him, not from the kitchens. He turned around, blushing dark at seeing Alex had changed clothes to a white button down and jeans. He was also holding a single rose, likely from the gas station, but Gaz didn’t care at all.

Ghost, Alejandro, and Reyes had all gotten the restaurant cleaned while Price was in the office counting cash, and Gaz could see warm lighting in a corner of the restaurant. “You clean up well.” He teased, since he had just seen Alex in his chef’s smock, covered in stains. 

“Our apartment is practically next door. I… may have snuck out to shower.” Alex grinned, sheepishly, and then he was holding out the rose and tugging Gaz to where the source of the warm lighting was coming from. Tables had been moved so a blanket was on the ground with LED candles and food.

Gaz couldn’t help just melting, moving to sit on the blanket with Alex. “You’re so sweet… You spoil me.”

“As I should, it’s exactly what you deserve. I just… wish I could give you more.” Alex sighed as he settled in, passing Gaz food and then filling a wine glass for him. Gaz knew that Laswell had probably already balanced the books to account for the losses, so Price wouldn’t notice. Nothing illegal, she’d likely just clock it that she’d taken stuff home, since everyone did. 

Alex’s statement made Gaz frown and he shook his head. “You don’t need to do more. Just being with you is enough.” Gaz promised as he accepted food and wine. “Plus, you almost jumped a customer, that’s more than enough.”

Alex laughed, softly. “Thank you, baby. He shouldn’t have cussed at my boyfriend.”

Gaz melted, remembering the sight. It had certainly had him feeling a few things. Alex had been in the process of clocking in, just close enough to hear when the customer had started to very loudly berate and curse at Gaz. Alex had been there much faster than possible, not so gently telling the customer to lower his fucking voice. 

Are we going to have a problem?

I’m not clocked in, yet, so we can have whatever problem you want to have. Care to step outside?

Gaz shivered as he remembered, looking away from Alex. Alex drove him crazy in the best ways, though it always had him embarrassed. “You shouldn’t try to fight customers.” He lightly scolded. 

Alex laughed, again, and only shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t. But… I will continue to fight the ones that are mean to you.”

“I will always be grateful.” Gaz smiled, shyly, at Alex before sipping his wine and finally starting to eat. Alex was a very good chef, he definitely knew his way around a kitchen, and being back of house had definitely rubbed off on him. Of course, so were Alejandro and Ghost. Alejandro had pulled out five course meals to impress Rodolfo, and Ghost would, apparently, get high and bored and find the most complicated to cook dishes.

However, Alex knew his way around Gaz’s tastes, specifically, and that was far better than a five course meal or complicated dishes. He never had to worry that he’d be sensory adverse to anything Alex cooked, nor did he have to worry about disliking it. Alex knew him, deeply well, and Gaz adored it.

So, he wasn’t shocked that he loved the food, enjoying sauteed green vegetables, chicken fritta, with a light layer of shredded parmesan. It was simple food, but Gaz had a taste for simple foods. Fancy foods had only ever left him disappointed.

He was the person who preferred plain cheese pizzas, hell he’d asked donut shops to hold the glaze a few times. 

“Do you like the food?” Alex asked, and Gaz didn’t hesitate to answer that he did, yelping when he was suddenly yanked to be half laying in Alex’s lap, still sitting up enough to eat. Alex only laughed when Gaz scolded him, eating his own food, but Gaz wasn’t actually upset, just getting comfortable and settling in to eat.

They ate in silence for a bit before Alex took their dishes, setting them to the side, and then revealing his laptop, where he put on a movie they both enjoyed, sipping their wine. 

They’d not been together too long, and Gaz was still kicking himself for not catching on that Alex was being genuine in his flirting, before. Though… Farah had had to tell Alex and her wife, Malika, had had to tell Gaz. Both had basically told them to stop being stupid and fuck, already, or they’d do something drastic. 

He’d just always thought Alex was being friendly since… well, he flirted with Alejandro and Ghost. Though… looking back, Alejandro flirted with everyone, and it was clear both were just taking the piss out of Ghost, who usually told them to go fuck themselves. 

“At the risk of sounding very dorky, you are incredibly sexy when you come to the back and bring orders.” Alex spoke, suddenly, and Gaz found himself blushing very dark. “Today, when you were pissed at that table, I’ve never been so tempted to lay you out than I was when you slammed your tray into the counter.”

Gaz winced, since he’d been fairly pissed. 35 items. Yes. Thirty five. 8 meals, 16 drinks, 8 desserts, and 3 appetizers. This wasn’t the worst, however, they’d needed something every five seconds. To the point that Gaz had had to give up tables to Rudy and Farah, and they’d stayed for three fucking hours and had four kids all under five.

They were incredibly lucky they’d tipped 40% and had generally been nice, but he was done at the end of it. At some point, he’d needed something remade, and the four line cooks hadn’t been paying attention when he tried to call it back to them. 

Alejandro and Ghost had been fucking around with something and Alex and Reyes were discussing something to do with a college class they shared. He’d yelled it three times, and had received no response, so eventually he’d slammed his tray as hard as possible into the counter, earning a very startled stare from all four, to which he’d gritted out that he needed something remade and if he didn’t come back in ten minutes to it remade and hot on the line, he was going to break the tray over someone’s head. 

They’d had it remade in seven.

“Pay attention to me, next time.” Gaz shrugged, snuggling further into Alex, and then blushing dark. “The restaurant was busy, and your coworkers were there. I doubt you would have actually ‘laid me out’.”

“Eh, fuck them.” Alex chuckled, teasingly kissing Gaz’s neck, though Gaz whined and swatted him off. He was never one for sex after a long shift, though Alex never seemed to be, either, since he just chuckled and turned to rubbing his thumb over Gaz’s neck. “I might have to consider how to piss you off, more.”

“It will not earn you anything other than a very pissed off boyfriend.” Gaz snorted, closing his eyes and relaxing. “Possibly dealing with my dad. I’ll tell him.”

“I will not be finding a way to piss you off.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Gaz chuckled, shaking his head a little. “God, I love you.”

“I love you more.” Alex chuckled, and Gaz felt his hand lifted before lips were pressing against his knuckles. “If I was more poetic, I think I would have the words to say how much. But… I think I will settle with saying that however much you love me, I promise, I love you more.”

Gaz’s skin flushed and he found himself just melting into Alex. “If you spend more time with Alejandro, I’m sure you’ll become poetic.”

Alex snorted. “I live with him, I doubt I could physically spend more time with him. But… maybe he’s why I can’t be. He sucks all of the poeticness out of the room. That’s why he’s so poetic and Ghost and I essentially word vomit.”

“Reyes is plenty poetic.” Gaz pointed out, chuckling. “But… I like how you talk. I like that I don’t have to work out what you’re saying. It’s nice to know what you mean. I don’t need to figure out what on earth you mean by ‘your body would glow the brightest next to the largest stars’ or some other rubbish. ‘You’re sexy’ leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Does ‘you’re beautiful?’” Alex asked, his tone coy. “What about ‘you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on’?”

“Now you’re laying it on thick,” Gaz teased. “I doubt I’m the most gorgeous.”

“Undeniably so.” Alex hummed. “You are exactly what I imagine Aphrodite would look like if she were to appear before me, right now.”

“I thought you said you weren’t poetic.” Gaz snorted, shaking his head, before finally opening his eyes to look up at Alex.

Alex grinned down at him, and then he was leaning down to kiss Gaz, softly. “I’m not poetic. I state facts. If a Greek goddess of love were to magically appear, she’d look like you to me.”

Gaz wasn’t sure he could possibly blush anymore, but Alex had always loved to push that limit. The only limit Gaz had that Alex had ever tried or succeeded to push. “Eros… Aphrodite… It doesn’t matter, they’d all look like you, I think. Though… you’re exactly my type. Tall, blonde… dorky.”

“Ouch,” Alex laughed, shaking his head. “I’m being sweet and you’re calling me dorky.”

Gaz chuckled, but just continued. “Strong, muscular. Handsome and sweet.”

“I like those, better.”

Gaz shook his head, settling back into Alex. He liked these stolen moments with him. He liked sneaking around, it… made everything more exciting. Gaz had never done anything even remotely bad, before, and he knew Price would eventually accept their relationship, hell he probably already knew, but it was fun to pretend. It was fun to have late night dates hidden away from everyone. 

One day, Gaz would just sack up and tell Price, but… for now, he was having fun. Alex appeared to be, as well, since he’d put a lot of effort into hidden dates, into sneaking around. Making excuses why they needed to leave together, sneaking off on their lunch breaks to fuck in Alex’s busted pick up truck. 

He felt like a stupid teenager, again, getting to have dumbass experiences he hadn’t gotten to before. Alex knew how to make everything almost magical and fun, everything with him was exciting. 

So, he sat back, and reveled in the soft wonder of another of these moments, enjoying the feeling of Alex’s hands on his body, the soft sound of the movie playing nearby, and the safety of knowing they would be fine, were they to actually be found out. It was balancing on a rope which was hardly a few feet above a net, exhilarating with no real threat. Though… that’s what every moment with Alex felt like. 

Growing up, that’s what Alex had felt like, as well. Both he and Farah had always been more than willing to fight anyone who was a threat to Gaz or even Roach. Both were there to keep the assholes at bay, to keep the bullies in their place. 

They’d had a little fort, too, in Gaz’s backyard. A treehouse, which was called “Camp Refuge” out of a book they’d read together. It was shittily built, but it had been theirs and it had been safe. Nothing, not even Gaz’s anxiety, could touch him in there, and that was what Alex was, his personal and mobile Camp Refuge. 

God, he loved him so much.

--

I have other drafts that I apparently never posted, so expect those, too, I've just decided to edit them a little

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

Ship: @the-pluto-828 @Humanmilkerr @lieutenant-storm @roachboy @del79jji @thatnerdnamedtj @snootlestheangel @ornitorinco @crazy-phan-girl13 @cowboyscruffy @lvndr-swtr @idiot_rxxcoon @chaotic-pastel-science-babe @the-blue-substitute @idiotrxccoon

AU:

@snootlestheangel @the-blue-substitute @ghostslittlegf

#Gaz Cod #Alex Keller #Alex COD #Gaz x Alex #Alex x Gaz #call of duty #gazalex #the gazalex agenda #cod restaurant au #queue for dinner again hunny?

[azurevi]

Resquets are open :D If it's not too much trouble I can get: character death + illness with Sebek

I find your works interesting, I hope to see more in the future🌠✍️💐

Sebek + character death & illness

thank you for the kind words! (｡◝‿◜｡) this was fun (albeit sad) to write, hope you enjoy!

Sebek was racing against the clock.

“Cherish the remaining time” was what the doctors had told him at the hospital, outside the room in which you were kept. It infuriated him that they admitted defeat when there’s still so much time left to make things right, but if they weren’t going to do anything, then he just had to take matters into his own hands.

For weeks now he had been looking for a cure, a solution, a spell- anything that can get rid of the sickness sucking the life out of you. His parents and their friends came up empty-handed, and even Lilia, with his bottomless barrel of experiences, told him that it was useless to keep trying.

“If you have time to read about the disease, why don’t you spend it with the actual patient?”

But it wasn’t just time he was running from, it was his own shame. To stop was to admit that he couldn’t save you, that he was powerless in the face of humans’ fragile mortality. How was he supposed to look you in the eyes, knowing that he failed you?

Ancient books made no mention of similar conditions, and no spell was strong enough that they could destroy a ticking bomb inside a body. Anytime he thought he was on the right track, he ended up drawing a blank. Yet the restlessness in his body didn’t dwindle. If any, it pushed him further. He spent days after days looking for someone or something that could help, regardless of the price, regardless of the distance.

“Where are you, Sebek? They are asking for you. You know there isn’t much time left.” Jack’s calls came every day, a haunting reminder that not a second could be wasted. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, if the sleepless nights and frequent texts were any indication. In fact, he would teleport right next to you if he could, but he only had one body, and it was more useful to save you than to mourn in advance.

It wasn’t until Malleus personally dragged him back that he finally came to terms with the truth: he never had a chance to begin with. He could try and fight fate, but nothing he did could change it, and by the time he arrived, you were already at the edge of death.

For the past few weeks Sebek had been running from a lot of things, but as he stood in front of the cold, white door, he wondered if he had actually been avoiding you all along.

Clenching the vibrant flowers in one hand, he slid the door open. Whatever shell he had built around him shattered the moment he saw you— attached to beeping machines by various tubes on your arms, body thinned and ravaged by the battle within you. You were alive, but barely.

His throat tightened. He wanted so much to pull all those tubes off of you, to hoist you up in his arms and tell you that everything was going to be fine, but that could only happen in his imagination.

“Sebek,” you raised your hand, and he rushed to hold it. He didn’t notice the tears escaping his eyes until you wiped them away, making him flinch.

“Took you long enough,” you laughed quietly. Your voice no longer bore jokes intended to make him laugh. Its vigor was replaced by weariness.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t find anything useful.” He said.

“It’s okay, there wasn’t much hope anyways.”

“Don’t say that!” He held tightly onto your hand. “If I try harder, maybe-”

“I don’t want you to find me a cure, Sebek. I just want you to be by my side before I go.”

“But that’s…” He lowered his head, fighting the urge to tell you about all his wishes and plans for the future, how he had already decided that you would be a part of it. Everything had been laid out in front of him in one perfect path, everything that he had now lost. He still didn’t want to give it up. 

And yet, there was no way he could be free from regret if he didn’t spend the remaining time with you.

He took a deep breath and nodded, leaning against your intertwined hands.

“…Then I will stay right here with you.”

In the remaining hours, he watched the life threaten to fade from your eyes despite your efforts to pocket as much time as you could. It took everything in him to hold back his distress and to talk to you like it was just another normal day. It was only when the beeps of the machines sank into a deafening flatline that he finally let his voice quiver.

“Hey,” He held out hope for one last miracle, one last mercy from the sevens above. Nothing came except for the footsteps down the corridor. His friends burst into the room in a desperate rush before the world finally crumbled around him.

In the end of the day, there was nothing he could do to save you.

#twst x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst angst #sie writes

[oraclekleo]

[Interactive Stories]Painting - Part 02

Lee Soo Hyuk Story

Part 01

Painting

(Lee Soo Hyuk Story)

Part 02

Soo Hyuk turned to the gallery owner and told her he would like to buy the painting. The sparkle in her eyes was a clear sign she was about to skyrocket the price. Hyuk didn’t care. He couldn’t bear the idea of someone hanging this very intimate painting in their living room and showing it to guests debating about the investment and how the value of the painting will only grow when the artist is dead. Amateurs and dilettantes staring at the poor woman and discussing her enormous suffering while munching on single bites and sipping champagne. Hyuk had to give that painting some decent place to stay off public eyes and in privacy and peace.

As expected, the gallery owner handed Hyuk her calling card with a sum scribbled on it and it was even more than he would ever imagine. His better judgement was telling him it’s foolish to spend such money on a painting he knows so little about. All his instincts were screaming ‘Buy it’. It wasn’t his habit to listen to instincts over cold logic but this time he nodded and asked the gallery owner to prepare papers for signing. The woman smiled gently but her eyes glistened with greed and she left to prepare everything needed in her office. Hyuk remained by the painting and looked at it once again. It was impossible and yet it seemed to him as if the woman in the painting looked slightly relieved.

“You've been staring at this painting ever since we came, my friend.”

Hyuk only nodded and didn’t even look at Hong Jong Hyun. “I just bought it.” Hyuk said bluntly.

Jong Hyun looked at the painting. “Why?” He asked. “I mean, you’re not really a fan of figurative art if I remember correctly. You only have all those modern art pieces at home where I can’t tell what it is. Here it’s pretty clear what the painting depicts. And I would guess the lady isn’t even your type.”

“You are right about everything. And yet I bought it.” Hyuk handed Jong Hyun the calling card.

Jong Hyun’s eyes popped: “How much? Are you insane?”

“It seems so.” Hyuk pressed his lips. “I can’t explain it. All I know is that I have to have this painting. I have never done anything this reckless in my life.”

Jong Hyun gave the calling card back. “I guess we all need to do something purely intuitive once in a while. So! What’s the story of this painting? It looks like it’s gotta be intense.”

“I have no idea. The author is dead, he didn’t even give the painting a name and you can notice some details are unfinished. He clearly died before completing the painting. The model is an unknown woman. Although I wish to know who she is.”

“A mysterious art piece with dark unknown history, irresistible and invading your mind. That sounds like a great movie plot. Are we going on a quest to find out who’s the woman and if she’s real, are we going to track her down and meet in person?”

Jong Hyun clearly meant it as a joke but Hyuk just realised that this is exactly what he’s called to do. It felt as if the painting was incepting those thoughts in his brain. “You don’t have to help me but I’m going to find out who the model is.”

“For real?” Jong Hyun asked, slightly surprised. “Man! That one got under your skin fast. Alright then! What kind of a friend would let you investigate a possibly cursed painting on your own? I’m in! It’s not like I had anything better to do this autumn anyway. Let’s sniff that lady out!” Jong Hyun called but he bit his lower lip. “That sounded way weirder than in my head.”

The gallery owner came to invite them to her office. The formalities were handled quickly and Hyuk was promised to receive the painting the next morning. The gallery offered him an installing service for free. For that price they could also give him a free stay in Italian Venice.

“I would like to know something about the painting and the artist, some history of the piece.” Hyuk told the gallery owner.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to be told.” She quickly typed something on a keyboard and the printer next to her desk started buzzing. I’ll give you the full description we received with the painting.” She waited for the printer to be finished, put the loose papers in an aesthetic file with a gallery logo on it and handed it to Hyuk.

His first instinct was to open it and read it here but it didn’t feel polite. He waited till it was acceptable for him to leave the gallery. Jong Hyun was the driver tonight and Hyuk’s lift back home.

“What does it say?” Jong Hyun asked as they got stuck in a traffic jam.

“Nothing much, to be frank. The artist was a Swiss man named Basil Van Paar. He used to be a war zone journalist and photographer but then he dropped that and became an artist. He painted several members of European noble families. He lived alone, no wife, no kids. He was found dead in his apartment in Geneva 6 months ago. Cause of death was a heart failure. This painting was found on the easel covered with a cloth. Clearly he was about to start working on it when his heart stopped. His sister, who lives in Vienna in Austria, found a journal where Basil noted down various information about each of his paintings and all were covered there but this one. They couldn’t find a single note or a sketch for this painting. It looked like one day he started painting without any prep. Nobody knows who the woman on the painting is or whether she’s real or just some sort of a fantastic character, a mix of several people Basil put together in his mind.”

“Oh! So the quest might actually lead nowhere if the painting depicts only a fictional character?” Jong Hyun asked.

“Exactly.” Hyuk whispered and closed the file. They finally got through the jam and Jong Hyun stepped on acceleration.

Jong Hyun licked his lips. “But you are still determined to seek her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Hyuk agreed.

“What’s the first step?” Jong Hyun asked.

Check out Lee Soo Hyuk tarot readings:

Lee Soo Hyuk Kinky* Reading

Lee Soo Hyuk Relationship Role

Lee Soo Hyuk Ideal Partner

Lee Soo Hyuk - Love is a Battlefield

Lee Soo Hyuk - Shadow of the Moon

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#oracle kleo #lee soohyuk scenarios #lee soo hyuk #lee soo hyuk scenarios #lee soohyuk #lee soo hyuk fanfic #lee soo hyuk imagines #interactive story #fanfic #fanfiction

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 6 Part 3: Agmine Consectamur (We hunt in packs)

Longer than I expected :( https://archiveofourown.org/works/47442772

Previous / Masterlist / Next

3pm

The atmosphere in Latvia felt heavy, with the cloudy sky over them promising rain at one point in the near future. Ghost wished the temperature was lower. Humidity in a forest would complicate things to cover their tracks. On the other hand, it would be easier to spot the enemy’s presence.

He was standing on the tarmac next to Price, smoking his last cigarette in a while, waiting for Riot. The helicopter that was going to take them to their destiny was already there with a full tank, a grey SH-60B Seahawk with no military colours or flags painted on it. Ghost hadn’t met the pilot yet, but he could see the co-pilot and the sensor operator who were checking the systems and getting the bird ready to fly.

Soap’s silouette appeared from inside the hangar where the small plane that had brought them to Latvia was stored now, being cleaned and refilled. The Sergeant started running at full speed at them, and Price groaned, exhaling smoke slowly while holding his cigar.

‘‘Wonder if he’s missing his tablet’’

Ghost side-eyed his Captain but said nothing, his balaclava hooked over the bridge of his nose while he finished his cigarette. Soap reached them, a wide grin on his face.

‘‘Laswell and Riot are arguing!’’

Price and Ghost looked at each other, and then back to MacTavish. Kate Laswell wasn’t one to raise her voice to anybody, and Riot had proved in the months with the Task Force to be a calm, collected and taciturn individual, which Soap had insisted was not her normal self. Maybe that was why he was grinning.

‘‘What are they arguing about?’’, Price sighed, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘‘And why are you happy about that?’’

‘‘I have no idea about why, both of them told me to fuck off of the hangar’’, Soap shrugged, still smiling wide. ‘‘I’m just glad the fire is still there, I was getting worried therapy wasn’t working!’’

‘‘Fire?’’ Ghost threw the butt of his cigarette to the ground and pulled down his balaclava, adjusting the skull plate over it.

‘‘In boot camp she would blow up at the drop of a hat, must be the Spanish blood’’ Soap looked back at the hangar, right when Riot was storming out of it, clearly fuming, with Laswell jogging behind her. They couldn’t make out what they were saying, and kept observing when Sergeant Vega abruptly turned in the middle of the tarmac to spat something back at the Station Chief. ‘‘And I was missing that, she gets fucking hilarious the more furious she gets, she starts forgetting to speak English and ends up yelling at you in Spanish’’

Christine yelling at someone, blue eyes sparkling with fury, blonde hair glorious like a lion’s mane, the lips he had just half seen a pouty red he’d love to appease.

Ghost shook his head slowly, eyes locked on Riot and Laswell while they kept approaching. The Station Chief was clearly not happy, but Riot’s face was unreadable beneath the half balaclava that covered her from neck to below her nose, and the sunglasses with blue coloured lenses.

‘‘The pilot is clearing the flight with the control tower, he’ll be here any minute’’ Laswell’s voice had the same tone as always, but her eyes darted from time to time to Sergeant Vega, who was clearly ignoring her. ‘‘You two have your orders, make contact when you land. I have to make a call’’

When she stepped aside to make that phone call, the three men turned to Riot, who was taking off her sunglasses to rub her eyes.

‘‘Well?’’ Price raised an eyebrow, grunting while fishing his lighter out of his pocket to light his cigar again, but his voice was gentle, seeing how tense Sergeant Vega was. ‘‘Care to explain, love?’’

Soap wrapped an arm around Riot’s shoulders, worried by the haunted look in the blue eyes of his friend. With both Price’s tone and Soap’s touch she seemed to relax slightly, but her eyes searched for Ghost’s.

‘‘She is asking for something I’m not sure I can give anymore. I know this is a test’’ Riot shook her head when Price tried to speak again. ‘‘No, let me finish, sir, Dr. Heather told me I needed to speak up. I know this is a test, and you’re sending me with Ghost because he is more than able to finish whatever I can’t’’

‘‘You can’’ Ghost’s deep voice interrupted her, and he kept talking over her when she started to protest. ‘‘Fucking stop selling yourself short already’’

‘‘But I…’’

‘‘I said STOP’’ He was towering over her now, his brown eyes locked on hers, unblinking. ‘‘Whatever it is that she has asked you to do, you can do it. I’ll be there. End of the discussion’’

A flash of anger crossed her eyes and her jaw clenched visibly under the tight fit of her half balaclava, but it disappeared as fast as it had emerged. Now, there was a look of wonder in her eyes, and Soap was trying hard not to smirk, feeling Ghost’s eyes on him too, daring him to try.

‘‘Aww, the Lt is getting soft…’’ Of course he had to, although he flinched at the freezing cold stare Ghost was giving him. Gabi would love to know.

‘‘I agree with Ghost’’ Price grabbed Riot’s vest straps and dragged her closer, releasing her from Soap’s grip. Once he had her close, looking up at him, Price smiled. ‘‘You’ll do fine, kid. We trust you’’

For a second he thought it had been the wrong thing to say, as her eyes looked sad and glossy instantly, but the way they narrowed showed him maybe he had hit the jackpot. She was smiling under the mask.

‘‘I’ll try to be worthy of that trust, sir’’

‘‘Good girl. Now get ready, once the fucking pilot arrives you both are leaving’’

‘‘Speaking of which... is the pilot the guy speaking with Gaz?’’ Soap pointed in the general way of the air control building, where two men were walking in their direction. One of them was Gaz, the other was a man slightly shorter than him, with curly black hair and tan skin. Both were chatting and looking at something on Gaz’s phone.

‘‘Rojas?’’ Riot blinked, a surprised tone in her voice that made the other three men look at her and then back at the pilot and Gaz. Once they were close enough, the man she had called Rojas smiled widely, showing a flawless white set of teeth and offered his hand to shake while taking of his Rayban aviator -a bit banged- glasses with his free one. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and his smile sincere and a bit cheeky.

‘‘Vega! Nice to see you again!’’ His dark eyes scanned what he could see of her face, stopping at the half balaclava, and Ghost felt himself getting tense. Why did she know him? How long? How close? Why did he care?

‘‘Laswell is still using you?’’ She shook the offered hand firmly, and then turned to look at her teammates. ‘‘This is Diego Rojas, he has been my pilot before’’

My pilot

Why were there ashes in his mouth if he had already thrown his cigarette away?

She was introducing them one by one, all shaking hands, and then it was his turn.

‘‘And this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost’’ Her hand fell on his left wrist while he was shaking the pilot’s hand with his right. She hadn’t touched the others when introducing them.

She hadn’t touched the others.

Before he realized what he was doing, his left hand grabbed the back hook of her battle belt and pulled gently, and she stepped back almost nothing, barely noticeable while the others were chattting, to where he wanted her. Close to him. And she allowed it.

Ghost looked down at Riot to find her looking up at him, his hand still grabbing her belt. The corners of her eyes narrowed as her gaze softened, and he felt so stupid and weak that he was tempted to just push her away, but he didn’t, and when she leaned back just a little bit so her shoulder was almost between his arm and side he felt stupid, and weak, but good.

‘‘Are you two ready to go?’’ Rojas asked, and Riot nodded, putting her sunglasses on again.

‘‘As ready as we will be, I guess… Rojas, did you paint her? Oh my God, she looks awful’’ She looked at the Seahawk while they approached it, and patted softly the open door. ‘‘Hi, Stork’’

‘‘Stork?’’ Price snorted, arms crossed while Ghost secured both their backpacks inside. Rojas laughed merrily while putting on his flight jacket and climbing on board to his post.

‘‘That’s my girl! She’s a stork because she delivers babies everywhere!’’

Both Soap and Gaz laughed, helping Ghost check everything was in order while Riot sat down and started fastening her belts, and then both Sergeants returned with Price while the Lieutenant secured himself in his seat.

‘‘Well then deliver my babies safe and sound and back, will you?’’ The Captain sent Soap and Gaz back with Laswell at a safe distance, and approached the open door of the chopper to look at Ghost and Riot. ‘‘Contact me when you land. And remember to be careful and come back. That’s an order’’

‘‘Yes, sir’’ Riot answered, her eyes hidden by her sunglasses but by the tone of her voice Price imagined she was smiling. Ghost just nodded at him, and then the Captain closed the door and hit it twice, signaling the pilot it was secured, and ran back to where his men and Laswell were waiting as the rotors started to girate.

Inside, Ghost and Riot secured the headsets over their heads, switching on the comm so they could speak during the trip.

‘‘You speak with helicopters?’’ He snorted, trying to not sprawl over the tight space too much to allow her space for her legs, but she didn’t seem to care, her knee pads pressed against his thighs.

‘‘I also speak with ghosts’’ She laughed softly. ‘‘Stork has taken me to many missions and brought me back, so I make sure I greet her and thank her so she keeps doing the same’’

As the helicopter rose into the air, Price sent Soap and Gaz to the barracks to rest until they had to take their turn overseeing the communications, and after the two younger men had left, he looked at Laswell.

‘‘You better start explaining why you thought it was a good idea to rile up my Sergeant right before a mission’’

‘‘Don’t puff up your feathers, mother hen’’ Laswell sighed, looking tired. ‘‘Look, John, I can’t tell you all the details, you have no clearance’’

‘‘Bullshit. You start speaking or I contact the pilot and make them turn back’’

Kate Laswell looked at the Captain’s blue eyes that were promising a thunderous gale if she didn’t do as he commanded, rank be damned, kind of friendship be damned. She knew how protective he was, she had bet upon it many times before to get what she needed from him. She just hadn’t expected to be this strong after such a short time.

‘‘I need to know if she’s broken’’

‘‘What?’’ Price blinked, and then crossed his arms, towering over her just with his mere presence more than with his height, frowning.

‘‘I need to know if she still can follow orders and do her job if ordered to’’

‘‘Was she offended because you told her that?’’ Price snorted ‘‘I would be offended’’

‘‘No… she asked me to not break my promise. And I’m afraid I’ll have to. You have to keep her in a tight leash, John. That woman is a wounded wolf and will bite if the opportunity arises’’

‘‘What promise was that, Kate?’’

‘‘I can’t tell you’’ Laswell shook her head, checking her phone when the device pinged at receiving a text message. ‘‘Just keep her leashed. She’ll listen to you’’

#cod mw2 #cod oc #cod original character #cod soap #cod ghost #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley #cod price #captain john price #captain price #soap mctavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty original character #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfiction

[lapinbunwrites]

Title: Dedue's Home

Ratings: Gen

Warnings: None

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three House

Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/Ashe Ubert

Characters: Dedue Molinaro, Ashe Ubert

Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Azure Moon | Blue Lion's Route, Azure Moon | Blue Lion's Route, My Version of a QPR

Word Count: 1,497

Ao3 Link

Dedue clutched his bedsheets in his fist as he woke up. It had been a long time since he had seen Ashe; he was a little disappointed that he wasn’t back from Castle Gaspard. He knew it would take a lot of time to get everything in order to give his title to his younger sister, but he didn’t think it would take this long. Nonetheless, Dedue was still heartbroken that he had to face another morning without Ashe.

He let out a sigh as he shuffled out of bed, stretching out his arms and shaking his legs. He didn’t have much of a day today: Dimitri forced him to take the day off. If Dedue had a say in it, he would be working. It wasn’t a great feeling for him, especially with Ashe being gone. He tried not to lament on his thoughts as he figured out how to pass the time. He went through a mental list of chores that needed doing, and the only thing that came to mind was grocery shopping.

Dedue quickly changed into something casual, keeping his blue scarf on, before going to the kitchen. He rustled through cabinets, pantry, and icebox, taking a mental note of everything he needed to buy. Before leaving the kitchen, he grabbed a spare basket and left for the town market.

When he arrived into town, he sighed with relief. There weren’t many people today—he could easily buy what he needed and get back home. One of the most frustrating things about the day was finding a good fish, especially trying to find some at a good price.

“Oh,” Dedue said softly, bumping into someone walking towards another merchant.

When he looked down to see who it was, he was shocked. It was Ashe. A smile slowly started to take place on his face. It was short lived; he soon repressed his smile when he realized that Ashe was truly back. Dedue felt his heart sink. Ashe wasn’t supposed to be back yet.

“I’m sorry, Ashe,” Dedue said, coldly.

“Hello, Dedue! I didn’t expect to see you here!” Ashe said cheerfully. His expression slowly changed when he saw Dedue’s face. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s nice to see you back in Fhirdiad,” Dedue nodded, deadpan. “Did everything back in Gaspard territory go well?”

“Not as well I was hoping,” Ashe sighed, looking intently at Dedue’s face.

“How so?” Dedue asked as he began to walk.

“The amount of paperwork that I was given to change successors was absurd,” Ashe said, walking along with him. “With all the bickering between the other nobles, employees, and my siblings, it became exhausting. We were stuck at a standstill for weeks. I just wish my sister could take over—she’s better equipped for this than I will ever be.”

“I can see how that would be frustrating,” Dedue said plainly.

“I don’t want to bore you with the specifics,” Ashe said, quickly changing the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“I am fine,” Dedue lied, his voice growing lower.

Ashe sighed, stopping him so he could look at his boyfriend. “Dedue,” he said softly.

“Hm?” Dedue asked, stopping in his tracks.

“I know you’re lying,” Ashe scowled, putting his hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Ashe, I am fine,” Dedue reassured him, deciding to walk to another vendor.

Ashe sighed and didn’t press further, only following him.

Their walk was quiet, only speaking to merchants when needed. It felt odd to Dedue that Ashe was back. Maybe it was because Ashe had never told him he was going to arrive back in Fhirdiad. Maybe it was because he never received any word from him in the past couple of months. He couldn’t figure it out, but that didn’t stop the betrayal and pain that were stirring inside of him.

“So,” Ashe murmured out. “What are you planning on making with everything?”

“Sweet and salty whitefish sauté,” Dedue said as he picked up some tomatoes. He looked over at Ashe’s face and tried to repress his smile at how cute he was. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay mad at him. “I thought it would be nice to eat today.”

“Really?! I’m so happy I was able to make it here just in time to eat it,” Ashe said, his smile broadening. “Let’s see what we have. We have tomatoes, salt, some spices, hmm…”

Dedue said nothing as Ashe mumbled to himself.

“Oh! We need the whitefish!” Ashe said, snapping his fingers. “I know the perfect person to get fresh fish for a really good price!”

Dedue frowned as Ashe began to walk away.

“Dedue?” Ashe asked, seeing Dedue’s expression. He held his hand out towards him. “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” Dedue replied, taking his hand.

Dedue followed Ashe through town, realizing that Ashe’s perfect fish vendor was Anna. He perused her selection and Ashe was right: all of them were recently caught, and the price wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t great.

“That’ll be 200 gold for those whitefish,” Anna laughed.

“That’s a lot of money for two fish,” Dedue said, furrowing his brow.

“Not for whitefish it isn’t,” Anna told him, her gaze sharpening and her smirk growing bigger.

“I have to disagree,” Ashe chimed in. “These are common fish around here so it doesn’t cost a fortune.”

“Maybe, but not for fresh whitefish,” Anna said, her voice becoming harder.

Dedue stayed out of the conversation and listened to the two bicker about prices. It was terrifying when he heard Ashe’s and Anna’s words exchanged. He was in awe of Ashe’s ability to cut the price of the fish down to something reasonable. How Ashe was able to haggle anyone, Anna no less, was a mystery to him. Not that he minded too much—he got good prices on food.

“Ugh,” Anna sighed, dejectedly. “You really drive a hard bargain, kid.”

“Heh,” Ashe smiled and laughed as Anna wrapped up the fish. “I just know how the game works.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anna groaned, handing Ashe the parcel. “I hope you enjoy your fish.”

Dedue smiled as he took the fish from Ashe and placed it into the basket.

“Well, now that we have everything, we can go back to Fhirdiad castle and make the food!” Ashe exclaimed, setting off in the direction of their home.

Dedue nodded as he followed. He felt his stomach churn as they walked. He didn't know if Ashe had picked up on his feelings, or if he was ignoring it. Either way, he was still upset, though he made sure his emotions never crossed his face.

As soon as they returned to the castle, they headed straight to the kitchen. Nothing much was said between the two when they cooked. Dedue began fileting the fish as Ashe was preparing the tomatoes.

“Dedue,” Ashe softly murmured as he placed down his knife.

“Hm?” Dedue asked, coating the fish in a spice rub.

“I know something has been bugging you, and I don’t know what,” Ashe said, looking up at him. “I didn’t tell you I was coming back today because I wanted to surprise you.”

“You know I don’t like any kind of surprises,” Dedue reminded him as he coated the fish in his spice rub.

“I know,” Ashe sighed.

“Truthfully, I feel a little neglected,” Dedue added, placing the cut up fish onto a baking pan.

“I am truly sorry that I made you feel like that,” Ashe sighed out, placing his hands on Dedue’s arms to make him stop cooking. He tenderly squeezed Dedue’s arm as he moved closer to him. “I never meant to do that to you. I wanted to surprise you so I could see your lovely smile. I’m sorry, I should have sent you a letter saying that I was coming home early.”

“It would have been nice to see you home, cooking breakfast in the morning after these past couple of weeks,” Dedue reminisced, looking at Ashe’s face. “Even getting one letter from you would have been nice.”

“I’m sorry, Dedue.” Ashe’s face dulled.

“Ashe, I’m sorry,” Dedue apologized. “I didn’t mean to make things strange between us. I wanted to see you and I made it awkward.”

“It’s alright,” Ashe laughed a little. “I should have communicated with you about this. But nonetheless, I’m happy to be home.”

“As am I,” Dedue smiled.

“So, can I have my trademark Dedue bear ‘welcome home’ hug?” Ashe laughed.

Dedue smiled, wrapping his arms around Ashe’s body and feeling his warmth. “Now, let’s get back to making dinner.”

“Of course,” Ashe agreed.

At the end of the night, after they had finished dinner, they cuddled up into bed with each other. Dedue gave a big smile, his heart becoming warmer, when Ashe latched his arms around Dedue’s waist. He let out a little sigh of relief before drifting off into his own slumber. He was truly happy that Ashe was home.

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I can now finally post this up! I got to write a piece for @asheduecookbook a little bit ago and I wrote about a little domestic life between Ashe and Dedue. Yet another ship of mine that falls under being a QPR for me. I have many, and one of them is AsheDue.

#fire emblem #my writing #fire emblem three hopes #ashedue #dedue x ashe #ashe x dedue #dedue molinaro/ashe ubert #ashe ubert/dedue molinaro #dedue molinaro x ashe ubert #ashe ubert x dedue molinaro #dedue molinaro #ashe ubert