#bloody fucking hell i need to think about this one

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 16

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

not another one... oh yes it is... and please, respectfully, strap yourselves in cos it's gonna be a ROUGH RIDE. and not in the way you're thinking, sorry, but get your minds out the gutters. gosh.

in other news, i hope you're all doing okay. part 17 won't be for a while as i'm back to work tomorrow and i'm going to be tired because i stupidly ruined my sleeping schedule the past few days. massive L.

i hope you've all had a brilliant day, and thank you so much for all the love and kind, sweet comments you left on part 15, it really made my day when i read through them this morning :') i'll reply to them all when i have some extra time this week!! <3 remember to take care of yourselves, please. and enjoy this. <3

warnings: swearing, slight altercation?, angst

A pair of cold hands grasped your scarlet cheeks, forcing you to look up and into their eyes in a desperate manner. "Bloody hell, Y/N," Remus whispered, his face twisting into an anxious mix of worry and concern. Gradually, you let your tearful eyes slink up meet his own, and another sob fell from your quivering lips. "I should have stayed, I'm so sorry." He sighed. You watched as his brows slipped together; hazel eyes flicking between yours as he brushed his thumbs gently against the apples of your cheeks.

"It's not your fault, Remus, please-" You shook your head viciously and squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall forwards. 

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Remus asked, his voice soft as a feather, cautious not to startle you.

"Yes- no, I... my shoulder, it hurts," You whined and winced as you lifted your head up to lean back against the cabinets of your kitchenette behind you. Another intense, piercing pain shot through your shoulder. "Fuck!" You hissed. Remus cast a furious glance in the direction of Ben's unconscious body.

"We're going to have to take you to Madam Pomfrey, Y/N," the professor sighed quietly, "I'm afraid Dumbledore will need to hear of this... matter." Instantly, your eyes darted to Remus and you sucked in a breath.

"No, I'm fine, honestly- please," you shook your head, "there's no point, I won't be here after he wakes up anyway." A defeated sigh left your lips as you let your eyes slide to where Ben laid, the burning words that he'd spat at you like vicious venom replayed in your head on repeat.

"What do you mean?" Remus frowned at you.

"He found out about Severus." A dry, pathetic laugh slipped from you. "He figured it out."

"What-" Though, before Remus could even finish his question, you interrupted him.

"He went through my drawers in my greenhouse."

"I'm not following." The professor offered you an apologetic, yet perplexed look.

You inhaled a deep, slow breath through your nose. "Severus had been leaving me notes everytime he'd taken something from my cabinets, be it asphodel roots or dittany.. so, in my pathetic way, I... kept them." You muttered, reluctantly glancing up at Remus, watching his eyes soften. You looked away, unable to stomach how he looked at you with pity. "In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have, but I was blinded by my feelings for him, and so... then when I had first started seeing Ben, he had also left me notes. But, of course, I didn't really care for him the same way I did Severus, so I shoved them at the bottom of my drawers, beneath..." You trailed off, unable to finish your thoughts. You felt so silly, pathetic.

"I see." Remus said softly, noting how you were struggling. His gentle voice silently soothed your racing mind.

You took a few seconds to speak your next words, still unable to understand the gravity of the situation you'd put yourself in. In fact, it felt like you didn't even want to acknowledge it. "Ben threatened to have me fired, and then blacklisted for every job in this area. So, Remus, I'm screwed, to say the least."

The professor paused for a moment, pondering on his thoughts. You were praying he'd speak soon before you went insane from the way your mind was beginning to chaotically brew up storms of worst case scenarios.

"Not quite," Remus's lips quirked up into a small, comforting smile. You could only frown at him in utter confusion. "It's not the most... erm, ...humane way of solving such a problem, however it is the only way." Your eyes widened at his choice of words.

"Remus, you're scaring me, what on Earth are you suggesting?" You whispered, eyebrows furrowing together in what could only be described as fear.

"We're going to need the help of another wizard, I'm afraid." He replied and stood up, groaning a tad. "Ever heard of the spell, Obliviate?"

The damp stench of the dungeons of Hogwarts was wildly familiar and a little emotionally testing for you as you stumbled down the corridors with Remus; his hand placed caringly upon your back. The amber glow of the lit torches illuminated the darkened path, and the quiet squelch of the wet, mossy floor echoed throughout the empty corridors as the two of you padded towards Snape's classroom.

"I'm sorry to have to put you through this." Remus mumbled from beside you, and you felt his fingers press into the back of you. "But Severus is the only wizard I know that's meddled with minds here at Hogwarts."

"It's alright." You swallowed awkwardly as the anxious and speedy beats of your heart began to pound in your ears once more. "He never liked Ben, so I'm sure he'll take great pride in performing such a spell on him." You joked dryly, earning a curt laugh from the professor beside you. A little smile formed on your lips at the sound of it.

"Even in dark times, your brilliant humour shines through." Remus hummed, offering a warm smile as he glanced down at you.

There was a moment of silence as you let yourself wander through the labyrinth of your mind.

"Do you think it will work?"

"Absolutely," Remus answered quickly, "though Severus and I have never truly seen eye to eye, I still acknowledge the fact that he's an incredibly accomplished wizard." He said, shrugging. "I haven't met many other wizards in my time that have come close to his abilities."

You let his words simmer in your brain for a moment, and suddenly you felt a little more at ease. Not that you doubted Severus, but from what Lupin had explained about the Obliviate spell, you were slightly worried. Would Ben remember something and come back with a vengeance? No, there was no way... right? He's not that... petty.

Before you could even finish your train of thought, three loud knocks from Remus's knuckles broke you from your daydream.

Almost immediately you wanted to run away from the door in front of you. But from the way Remus's hand was glued to your back stopped you from doing so.

The door to Severus's classroom creaked open, and all of the blood from your body felt as if it had drained away the moment the two of you locked eyes.

"Severus," Remus greeted quietly.

"Y/N." Severus muttered, his tone confused as his eyes snapped to Lupin beside you, and then down to his arm around your back. A short, sharp exhale of breath left his nostrils, and you knew that he wasn't too pleased about what he was seeing. "Lupin..." He drawled as he flicked his eyes back to yours, then to Remus's own. "What brings you here?" His voice was agitated, nothing new. You let your eyes fall away from the Potions Master, unable to look at him without having some sort of whirlwind of emotions stir up inside of you.

"May we come in? It's a matter of urgency." The professor beside you spoke with a serious tone that forced a curious frown to appear on Severus's pale face. Without saying anything, Severus moved aside in one swift motion and allowed his door to creak further open, silently inviting you and Remus inside.

Had it been just Lupin here, you knew he wouldn't have been so trusting.

Glancing up, you caught Severus's eye again, and that wave of gut-wrenching yearning had returned to your heart. As you looked away, you didn't see the way his eyes softened at you, wordlessly wishing he could return to the way the two of you had been.

Lupin guided you inside with his arm, earning another harsh glare from Snape as he passed by him. "Take a seat, Y/N." The shaggy professor mumbled, pulling out a stool for you to perch on. You obliged, of course.

"What do you so desperately need from me?" Snape drawled, sweeping his way towards you and Lupin; his biting glare quite obviously screaming at you to hurry up and talk. Wasn't it so kind of him to treat you like you were some sort of irritating insect, and not someone he cared about, albeit a little?

You clenched your jaw, swallowing as you opened your mouth to speak, but Lupin beat you to it. "Bluewater threatened to have her fired and blacklisted from every job in the area." Severus's black brows immediately shot together in confusion, then quickly softened, quite obviously realising why he'd demand such a thing. "If she is to keep her job and reputation, we need you to perform the memory erasing spell on him."

Of course, Severus would do anything for you, at this point, he'd kill for you. So killing the memories of a man he truly loathed was an easy ask.

"Done." The Potions Master cast a concerned glance at you, before looking back to Lupin. "Truth be told, it'd be my pleasure." Again, Severus looked back at you with his worrisome black eyes, staring, swiftly scattering themselves over your form; quietly trying to figure out whether you were hurt or not. 

You noticed his quiet inspection. "I'm fine." You mumbled, sighing softly as you avoided his eyes once more, shuffling in your seat - but as you moved, your face twitched into a wince as your injured shoulder betrayed you.

"Yes, clearly you are." Severus muttered sarcastically as he padded towards you, reluctantly lifting a hand toward your arm. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you blinked at him, your jaw ticking with either anxiety or anger - you couldn't figure out which. "May I?" He whispered.

You gave a nod and turned your torso towards him, allowing him to inspect your injury. The second his fingers touched your skin, it ignited like a wildfire. You inhaled sharply, your body freezing at the way he trailed them down to your shoulder.

"I'll be outside." Remus muttered, noticing that perhaps the two of you need to be alone. He shuffled his way towards the door, and slipped out of it, the quiet thud and click of the handle signifying he'd left.

"Did he do this to you?" Severus muttered through gritted teeth, brushing his thumb over the colourful blotch that was beginning to appear upon the skin he used to worship. He hissed at the sight of your bruised skin, it was like someone had ruined a beautiful painting and thrown some sort of hideous concoction onto it.

He should have known better than to abandon you like that. Bluewater had always been a wildcard. He should have stayed by your side, he shouldn't have let his emotions get the better of him like he always did. Maybe then you wouldn't have this... abomination painting your flesh black and blue. Severus would never forgive himself for falling into the foolish trap of his insecurities. He'd never forgive himself for ever listening to the deranged demons that resided within his mind, silently calling him into the darkness; their devilish, silver tongues persuading him to fade into the lonely void.

You and Severus sat in silence for a moment, and your eyes had been glued to the ground ever since the Potions Master laid his hands on you. If you looked into his eyes whilst he was so close to you, you weren't exactly sure if you could stop yourself from doing something utterly stupid.

"Where is he?" Severus suddenly mumbled, a burning hot fire of rage and vengeance was quickly spreading throughout his body.

"My chambers, but-"

"Stay here." Severus immediately began to storm towards the door of his classroom, his long black cape billowing behind him with a vengeance that matched its wearer.

"Severus, don't hurt him!" You cried out, leaning forwards to try and grab his arm. You gasped as your injured shoulder unleashed an unbearable pain across your back, making you squeeze your eyes shut in agony.

"Don't hurt him? Look at what he's done to you!" Severus whipped around, furious. "You can barely move your shoulder without wincing like a wounded deer!" He stormed back towards you, and for the first time in a while, the irate look in his eyes truly frightened you. If looks could kill, you'd be dead on the ground. Though, he was not angry at you, his anger was only focused on one man.

"I don't care! Think about what could happen to you if the Ministry found out you harmed one of their own!" You exclaimed, praying that Severus would see through his blinding anger and choose to not do something foolish to Ben, despite how fierce his wrath was.

Severus paused for a moment as if to contemplate your words - though his consideration of your opinion was cut short as he whipped around once more; that vicious fire exploding inside of him like a deadly inferno. He was truly devoted to the thought of inflicting more harm than necessary to Bluewater.

At this point, you couldn't stop him. There was no way you could follow him with your injury. You watched on helplessly as he sweeped out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him. There was only one other person that could help you.

"Remus!" You yelled, cursing your weakened shoulder as you stood, breathing sharply in a dire attempt to lessen the pain that was slowly burning its way through your torso. "Remus!" You yelled once more, and immediately the door swung open, his familiar face adorned with an utterly worried look.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, quickly rushing over to you.

"It's Severus, he's gone to find Ben, you need to stop him, please," You panted, desperately grabbing onto the the material of his suit jacket that sat on his bicep. "I don't want him to do something he'll regret."

"Merlin," Remus muttered and nodded, turning swiftly to rush after the Potions Master. "Will you be alright?" He stopped to ask, running a stressed hand through his hair.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine, now, please just go!" You sighed heavily and leaned against a table beside you, hissing as your shoulder was now screaming at you in horrific pain. You were truly starting to worry now, had you fractured it- or broken it? Ben had shoved you quite harshly...

Your eyes darted around Severus's classroom, lingering on the potion ingredients that lined the wall. The only thing you could do was wait.

Or potentially brew a potion to help your agonising pain...

Severus's thunderous footsteps echoed hauntingly throughout the castle corridors as he stormed his way to your chambers; his fingers twitching at his sides, eagerly awaiting the chance to lay his hands upon Bluewater, the way he did to you.

That rotten bastard, Severus thought, he could kill him without a second thought right now. In fact, in the very back of the Potion Master's mind, he was truly considering it. The only thing Severus wanted to hear right now was Bluewater's bloodcurdling screams as he made him suffer through either physical or mental hell. All he had to do was lock the door, cast muffliato, and go to town. That was all too tempting for Snape. It was too easy. And that's what scared him.

As he neared your chambers, a stream of warm light began to pour out from underneath the door, and Severus deduced that Ben had awoken from Remus's spell. He quickly softened his footsteps and snuck towards your door, donning his wand in his hand. There was two ways he could go about this - he could barge in and surprise the bastard, or he could do it quietly. Perhaps the latter would be a little less idiotic.

Severus pushed your door open gradually with his hand, cautiously moving forwards as he pointed his wand into your chambers. A pained groan came from the floor, and the professor cast his eyes downwards and was met with an embarrassing mess shuffling around on it. Just the back of his head sent Severus into an blinding furious spiral, and he stormed towards him, grabbing the back of his top to hoist him upwards onto his feet. 

"Get th'fuck offa' me!" Bluewater drawled, still groggy from Remus's spell as he pathetically tried to fight the Potion Master's hand that had a hold of his flimsy shirt. Relentlessly, Snape dragged him through the room, the scratching sound of Bluewater's shoes scraping across the wooden floor and Snape's pounding footsteps filled the silence. He yanked the boy upwards and dropped him on his arse, watching in delight as a pained look flashed across his face.

"Watch your mouth, Bluewater," Snape snarled, poking the tip of his wand into his neck, earning a glare from the boy.

"You." Bluewater spat, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "You sonuva' bitch! You slimy fuckin' bastard, how dare you-"

"How dare I? How dare you lay a finger on her!" Snape bellowed at Bluewater, his teeth bared in a ferociously fearsome scowl.

"I never touched her." Bluewater's lips quirked into a vile smirk, and this only fuelled Snape's burning hatred for the boy. Without a second thought, he kicked the side of Bluewater, sending him tumbling onto his side, screeching in pain.

"Don't lie to me, Bluewater!" Snape growled as he fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his towering height, the tips of his toes barely grazing the floor. 

"You miserable git," The boy hissed through gritted teeth as he had one hand glued to his throbbing side. "She'll never work again, Snape. All because of you."

"Don't push me, you foolish boy." Snape huffed, his chest heaving uncontrollably as his anger got the best of him.

"In fact, neither will you." Bluewater added, his tone cocky and ignorant. Snape couldn't control himself any longer, and so he threw the boy to the ground again rather harshly, forcing a cry of pain from him. He felt nothing. Nothing but hot rage.

"Severus!" Remus suddenly called out from behind him, panting. "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand fell to the ground.

Remus felt his blood run cold as Snape turned to look at him with a face like a maddened bull. "Just... calm down, Severus, take a moment," The professor said softly, holding out a hand to try and defuse the situation. As he stared at the furious Potions Master, he was sure he could see red-hot steam pouring out of his ears. "You don't want to do this, Severus. Believe me." Snape's shoulders rose and fell rigidly as he looked on in disbelief at Lupin. "Y/N wouldn't want this."

Your name rolled off of Lupin's tongue like a bullet into Severus's chest.

"You must've drugged her," Bluewater spoke again, his voice making Snape's eye twitch, "there's no way in hell that she'd choose to be with you. She hates you. The amount of shit we used to talk about you, Merlin..." The boy knew he was getting underneath Snape's skin.

"Severus," Remus tried again helplessly. "Don't react."

"Silence!" Snape practically snarled at Bluewater as the seething blaze inside of him ignited once more.

"You don't deserve her, and you never will. You really think she'd fall for some ugly, pathetic and old git like you? Perhaps all that time in the potion classroom made you delusional." Bluewater spat, shuffling forwards on the ground. "You should ask her about what happened earlier, between us, I bet you'd-"

"Stupefy!" Remus yelled, aiming his wand at Bluewater, watching as his body fell limp once more.

Snape stared at Ben's unconscious body, his mind suddenly becoming a warzone after his last words before Remus had knocked him out. What happened earlier between you and Ben? Were his thoughts true? Was Bluewater right? Did you hate him?

"Severus,"

"What?!" Snape hissed, turning to face Lupin with a hideous look upon his face. Lupin offered an apologetic cock of his head, before nodding at Bluewater.

"The memories..." Remus muttered. Snape clenched his jaw at the words.

Memories. Right.

The Potions Master slowly padded over to Bluewater, pointing his wand at his temple. He paused for a moment, contemplating his next move.

"Legilimens." Snape whispered, shutting his eyes as he delved into Bluewater's memories. Snippets of him as a child, happy and screaming with laughter flashed before Snape's eyes, and so he continued deeper, watching the moment he met you in the pub, and when you spent the first night together. The professor hissed at the sight as a pang of hurt and jealousy struck him in his chest. He pushed through, skimming through more and more memories, finally finding the one thing he was looking for. It was you and Ben, sharing a glass of wine in your bedroom earlier on.

He'd stood up and stumbled towards you, clearly drunk. "I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing it with his thumb.

"Yeah." You'd replied. Severus felt his heart drop at this point.

Slowly, Ben crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Severus felt his skin suddenly ignite with jealousy. "Ben.." You warned, sighing.

"Whaat?" Ben had whispered back, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. He began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

Severus watched on in horror as you shut your eyes. Ben's fingers lingered along the backs of your soft thighs, pulling a breathy sigh from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing into your flesh.

Immediately, Severus pulled out of Ben's mind. He couldn't watch anymore. He was right. Merlin, he was right. For a moment, he inhaled sharply, quickly regaining his composure. "Obliviate." He muttered swiftly, filtering through Ben's memories and erasing every single one that contained you or Severus.

"A job well done." Remus said awkwardly as he watched Severus sheath his wand. He frowned as he stared at the back of the raven-haired wizard, silently pondering why he hadn't moved. He stood there for another good few seconds, staring wordlessly at Ben's unconscious body. Then suddenly, he spun on his heel, storming past Remus and shouldering him rather harshly. He couldn't bear to look at anyone that reminded him of you, and unfortunately for Remus, he fell under that now.

He berated himself for even letting himself get so close to you. How could he have done this to himself? Of course you didn't just want him. He was just some sort of... twisted fantasy to you. And yet, he was still willing to help you get out of this mess. That's the undeniable power of love, he supposed.

Once you were free, he'd let you go.

As Severus walked away, he could hear Remus calling his name, but he turned a blind eye and focused on marching back to his domain, the one place he felt at home, even though it used to be your arms.

You coughed and sputtered as the smoke from the cauldron in front of you began to get a little too thick, lining your lungs with what felt like some sort of tar. Perhaps you added a little too much puffer-fish. It did smell a little... oceany. A defeated groan left your lips as you let your head hit the table - after all these years you still royally fucked up potions. Severus wasn't going to be too happy that you'd burned another one of his precious cauldrons.

Suddenly, the slam of a door caught you offguard and you jumped at the loud noise, whipping around to see a rather distraught-looking Snape. That was not what you were hoping for.

"Severus? Everything okay?..." You swallowed, watching as he slowly stalked towards you, completely ignoring the burning smell of the cauldron in front of you. He didn't answer you. "Did you manage to erase them? The memories?" You tried again.

"Yes." Was all he said, his eyes burning into yours with what felt like sorrow.

"What happened?"

"Why did you lie to me?" He suddenly asked, catching you offguard.

"What?"

"You were going to stay with him." He stated matter of factly, his voice quivering a tad as he tried to hide the indescribable hurt that was undoubtedly going to eat him alive.

"That's not true, Severus." You shook your head, your brows knitting together in a wild mix of confusion and hurt. His jaw clenched at your words.

"Do not lie to me!" Severus bellowed, sweeping away from you. You flinched at the volume of his voice.

"I'm not!" You cried out, attempting to follow him as he made his way to his desk. "Severus!" You cried again, making him whip around to face you, his eyes overflowing with hurt and misdirected anger.

"I do not have time for liars, Y/N."

"Severus, just please, explain what happened!"

"What happened between you and Bluewater earlier?" He inhaled with the same sharpness that pierced his chest as he spoke those nightmarish words. 

Gods, how did he know about that? Ben must have said something to get back at him. You cursed the little bastard, but at the same time, this was also your doing. You gave into the selfish pleasure.

"He just kissed my neck, that was it, I promise." You said slowly, praying he'd believe you. Severus stared down at you, unwavering, his eyes glossing over. Your heart broke at the sight.

Perhaps you deserved this.

Severus paused for a moment, letting his black eyes study your petrified face. Clearly, you were terrified of losing him. He could see it in your eyes. That broke him. But it did not break him as much as the hellish thing he saw in Bluewater's mind. "I can't trust you."

This was your karma.

It suddenly felt as if the floor had given way beneath your feet. Your knees went weak, and all trace of feeling in your body went numb like you'd been paralysed. "No, Severus- please, you have to believe me-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Severus turned away from you as he felt a wave of unruly sadness and betrayal wash over him - something he hadn't felt in years. You desperately grasped onto his arm, the rough, black material beneath your fingers felt so uncomfortably familiar - and now it was going to be something you could only remember. "Let me go, please." The crack in Severus's voice made you release your grip.

This was it. He was really ending things between you two, for real.

"No," You sobbed. The pain from your shoulder injury felt like a pinprick compared to what you were feeling now. "Sev, please." Your cries broke his heart, and all he wanted to do was cradle you in his arms, and tell you everything was going to be okay - but he couldn't do that. Not now. Not ever.

You watched as his head raised upwards, his back still towards you. "Leave me, now, Y/N." Severus muttered and a trace of venom lingered in his words.

Without another word you left, making a straight beeline for Remus Lupin, wherever he was.

angst is my middle name, guys, i can't get enough of it. HA

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[vixstarria]

Communication

Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.

This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.

Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!

Read on AO3

Astarion x f!Tav

Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.

Tav is a half-elf bardlock. I'm calling her Tav in this fic, but if you know you know.

Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst

TW: some very casual violence and murder

Approximately 3.9k words. 

“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Tav. “Let’s go!” 

The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 

“Go where?” she asked.

“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 

“Now..?”

The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.

It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.

“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”

Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.

“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Tav.

It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.

“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Tav asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 

“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”

He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Tav smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.

“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.

This… This was new, particularly in public, and Tav bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 

Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 

“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.

“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.

Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Tav told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.

“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”

“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Tav. 

“Do indulge me.” 

“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 

“Such as?” 

“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 

“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 

“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 

Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 

“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 

She said the first phrase that came to mind.  

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Tav knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  

“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 

“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Tav gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 

“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 

“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Tav said thoughtfully. 

“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.

“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 

Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.

“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Tav. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 

They found a place to sit down.

“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Tav.

“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”

“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Tav asked quietly.

Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 

“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.

They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.

“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 

Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 

It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 

“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 

“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 

“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 

She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 

“Stay and do what..?” 

“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”

“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”

“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 

“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 

Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 

“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 

“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 

“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 

“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 

“...What?” 

“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 

She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.

“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 

“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”

“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”

“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.

None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.

“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”

“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.

“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”

“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.

“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”

Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 

Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.

They walked back in silence. 

Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 

“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 

They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.

Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 

“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Tav up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 

“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 

Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 

The leader laughed.

“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”

Astarion’s blood boiled.

He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 

“Take the ones behind,” Tav snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 

He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Tav spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.

The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 

The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Tav followed behind him.

The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 

Astarion turned back to witness Tav standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.

Tav barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 

A domination spell. 

Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.

 “Kneel,” Tav commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.

“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 

Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 

“…What?”

The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.

“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.

“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…

He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 

“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”

She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.

“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”

“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.

“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 

“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”

She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 

“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 

“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.

“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”

“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 

She spat on the ground. 

“I’m going back to camp.”

She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.

It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 

He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 

No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?

It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.

And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.

But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…

There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.

Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.

He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 

Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 

He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 

He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.

“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.

“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.

“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”

“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 

Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.

“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”

He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.

“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.

Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.

“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.

“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.

“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”

They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

Series master list

Next in series - A night at the inn

AO3

~~~~~

Tag list:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna @mj-bites @bardic-inspo

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

[hazbin-hotlee37]

Lee!Vox with Ler!Velvette would be cute :3

Fuck, motivation has gone poof! Anywayyyyyyssss

TW: Mentions of eating disorders and bad self care habits

Getting your mind off things

Lee!Vox, Ler!Velvette

“VOX!”

The TV headed demon in question jumped slightly, lifting his head from the desk where he was sleeping and running a hand down his screen. He sat up with a wince, his back aching. Fuck… What time was it?

“Vox, you missed the damn meeting and left me there with Valentino-... Damn, you look like shit. The fuck happened to you?” Velvette asks after she spun Vox’s chair toward her. The Media overlords appearance was very off from usual, looking disheveled instead of pristine.

“Nothing… I’ve just been trying to work on the Angelic Security shit…”

“That random idea you pulled out your ass? Why waste so much energy on that?? The extermination was canceled”

“Yeah, but what about the next one! I want to get this shit out there so the bitches aren’t breathing down my neck over it next year!” Vox said with a sigh.

“Yeahhhh, no. Come on, you haven’t left this damn cave in days.” She responds as she takes Vox’s hand dragging him out of his chair and out the door.

“I’m fine, Vel-”

“Don’t make me get Valentino” That shut the Media overlord up, he loved his husband, of course! But…… Valentino was already on his ass about this type of thing, if he learned the real reason as to why he wasn’t in bed with him at night… God, he did not have the mental capacity to comprehend that lecture.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat” Velvette says as she pushed Vox into her room/living area. Vox stumbled a little but followed.

“I’m not really hungry right now, Vel” Vox mutters, he knows he should eat something… But the thought of food right now only made his stomach churn…

“Don’t tell me-... That thing is coming back?”

Vox shrugged and looked to the side, fidgeting with his sleeve slightly.

“Have you told Val-”

“No. And he doesn’t need to know, I’m fine.”

“Clearly you’re not, V! When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Or even took care of yourself in the slightest??” Velvette says, concern clear in her voice. “You’re gonna work yourself to your second death at this point!”

“I know, I know… I get it, It’s just hard to suddenly change something you’ve done since you were alive.. For years! I’m trying my best… but sometimes it creeps back…” Vox says his voice going quiet near the end, he sat down on the couch and sighed.

“...Bloody hell, V, I didn’t realize you were this fucked up” Velvette says with a joking smile, trying to lighten the mood as she sat down next to the Media demon.

“Who down here isn’t..?” Vox says with a slight smile, he then jumped and gasped quietly when he felt Velvette run her claws up his side. “V-Vel-”

“Come on, Vox, we both know you need a bit of a pick me up” The fashion designer says with a smile as she squeezes the TV demon’s sides.

Vox squeaked and tried to bring his knees up to his chest but Velvette just pushed his legs back down and started scribbling her fingers over his tummy.

“Nahaha! V-Vehel, nononono NOhohoho! Ehehek!” Vox giggled and batted at the Social Media influencers hands but didn’t really try to push her away.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Voxy, can’t handle what you dish out? Don’t think I forgot when you got me and Val the other day! So take this as a pick me up and revenge!” The fashionista says with a smirk as she started to squeeze and drill her thumbs into the Tech demon’s hips, giggling when he shrieked.

“VEHEHELVEHETTE! NAHAHAEHEHEH- I Cahahan’t-! Ehehehek!”

“Shush! God, you’re so bloody loud! At this point, Val’s gonna kick down the door!” “Ihihihi’M SOHOHORREHEHE-” “Blah, blah, blah. Whatever, I’ll slow down a lil, don’t want you passing out on me. Tino will have my head” Vel says with a softer smile as she plays with Vox’s antenna, making the TV headed demon’s giggles melt into something softer.

“Ohoho gosh…” “Yeah, yeah, just take a load off, alright? You deserve it…”

#hazbin hotel tickle #lee!vox #mentioned Valentino #lots and lots of fluff #soo much fluff #Headcanon: Vox is fucked up #Eating disorder mentioned but not directly #Hinted at #Ler!Velvette

[awkward-teabag]

Can't even mention that a store near me is clearly using abusing the TFW program because they refuse to pay little more than minimum wage in a high cost of living area (also you won't get benefits and you'll only be part-time) because the fascists and right-wingers will jump in to say it's about immigration and white replacement.

No, it's because rich white people want to hoard even more money and found an intentional loophole to both make more money (via paying employees less) and also have more power over employees, employees who may or may not know Canadian employment laws (or safety laws) and even if they do, don't have the ability or support to try to hold the company accountable.

You can absolutely criticize the federal government for keeping the loophole open but it predates Trudeau by decades and it was Harper who both expanded the program and added a way for companies to fast-track TFWs. It was also under Harper that companies started firing Canadians (or not hiring them) and then requesting permission to mass-hire TFWs instead.

But the way the right wing talks, you would think Trudeau started this whole thing and the poor multi-million and multi-billion dollar companies are being taken advantage of. Also that housing prices, lack of new developments, and zoning issues started with Trudeau and are the fault of mass-immigration he has a boner for instead of being an issue for decades and experts warning this would happen if governments didn't act ASAP.

Instead the neolibs and cons kept cutting back and kicking that can down the road, a can that started being kicked by Mulroney and the Conservative Party.

#as a 90s kid i grew up with warnings about healthcare and housing and how we needed mass immigration or a massive baby boom #because of the utter lack of federal support and an aging workforce #the systems were already being strained to their limits and there literally weren't enough millennials to replace retiring workers #*or* bring in enough taxes to fund said systems when the system needed it the most #not even increase funding just keeping the same funding that was already not enough #also the right conveniently ignores (or doesn't know about) the extremely predatory recruitment industry #that targets people overseas while lying and charging large amounts of money to bring tfws to canada #you could even blame chretien for expanding it to include 'low-skilled' workers which is what companies are abusing it for #hell even trudeau sr for creating it in the first place even though it was originally made for high-skilled or niche jobs #but no the blame is always trudeau jr with a ton of racism and brownnosing capitalists #because all these problems sprang up suddenly under him #and in no way did harper start/expand/not end/be complicit in any of this /s #though i guess for some of the fascists it seems that way 'cause they weren't personally affected by it until now #and companies have stopped trying to pretend they aren't grabbing as much money as possible because fuck anyone else #even though it's been like that for decades and capitalism itself encourages companies to skim money off the top #while not having the checks and balances to limit just how much #for that you need governments to regulate things and that doesn't work when you have leaders who are anti-regulation #and who believe in trickle down economics #just... the whole thing is not happening in a bubble and involves multiple people and both the neolibs and cons #because it's been building for decades #but you can't bloody say that because the moment you mention housing/jobs/healthcare and/or tfws #you get inundated by fascists who think you're one of them and hit you with some of the most unhinged shit #or who don't even care about you and just want someone to rant at about how it's the evil left's fault for everything #hell you can't even say you don't like trudeau because same thing: fascists think you're one of them or someone to bring into the cult

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt. 

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason. 

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance. 

So that left you here. 

You were pregnant. 

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test. 

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course. 

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face. 

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking. 

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—” 

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave. 

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.” 

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant. 

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you. 

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else. 

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink. 

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly. 

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause. 

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you. 

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.” 

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter. 

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either. 

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath. 

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer. 

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon. 

You frown. 

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

#tw sex mention #tw pregnancy #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod ghost

[the0doreslover]

Kitten love?

pairing: theodore nott x reader

warnings: fluff, the word slag once (not to a human) this was supposed to be comedic

summary: 🐈❤️🐈‍⬛

“How many times have i told you to keep your rabid horny cat away from mine how many more times am i going to say this nott?” you scoffed placing the black cat into theodore’s arms “I walked in and he was fucking humping her”

“well maybe if your stuck up princess of a cat stopped rubbing her ass on him, he wouldn’t go after her” he retorted

“what are you trying to say nott!”

“that your cat is a slag”

you gasped and were about to retaliate, before his friends intervened.

“alright, that’s enough of that, theodore you keep teddy away from….” pansy paused for a second

“cleo”

“away from cleo” she continued “and cleo stays away from teddy”

“fine by me!” you agreed

“me too”

“then that’s sorted”

…

That was infact not sorted

Theodore was sitting in the common room with his friends when he heard someone stomping in quite violently. He turned and saw you red in the face while a panicked hermione tried desperately to calm you.

Once your eyes locked with his it was like something snapped in your brain and you lunged for him.

People perked up watching as you tried to inflict harm on the slytherin boy

“Bloody hell, you’re crazy get off me!” he was laughing

“You can go to hell!” you were shouting at him “Why are you laughing!”

“You’re cute not to think i can’t have you on your back in seconds”

“Fuck you! and Fuck your mangy cat”

“Okay that’s enough” he grabbed your wrists and pinned you on the ground “why are you attacking me?”

everyone around the room watched the commotion silently

“My Cleo…”

“yeah?” he urged

“my cleo is…”

“for gods sake, what happened to your cat”

“She’s been impregnated!” you shouted struggling under him.

He paused for a second before the sound of laughter broke his thoughts, he looked up to where his friends + hermione were all trying and failing to surpress their giggles.

“Has she taken a test?” he ask

“She’s not a fucking human theodore, i told you to keep your animal away from mine and now look what’s happened” you pushed him to the side and stood up “hermione let’s go”

…

You were walking with harry, ron and hermione in the corridors when you heard your name being called.

You turned and came face to face with an out of breath theodore.

“Can i help you?”

“I’ve been- trying- to find you- all week!” he breathed out

“well here i am”

“listen, i need you to dig deep into your cold heart and find it in yourself to allow my cat to see yours”

“absolutely not”

“what’s wrong with you? this isn’t romeo and juliet, they are animals, my cat has been walking around aimlessly trying to find yours, have a heart” he snickered. “let him be a good dad”

“They way you guys are talking about these cats, you’d think they were real people” ron scoffed

“Fine, bring tony to my dorm after dinner”

“teddy” he corrected you

“yeah fine teddy”

“thanks love, appreciate it” he winked “see you after dinner”

…

That’s how you found yourself watching two cats reunite. It was as of you were watching a romantic film (but with cats)

“See, this is what you were in the way of” theodore snickered

“don’t make me regret my decision theodore” you scowled before the room fell into a comfortable silence

“i guess it is quite sweet” you smiled watching as cleo begun rubbing her face on teddy.

Theodore chuckled, and then, with a more serious tone, he said, "You know, maybe there's something to learn from Cleo and Teddy

you raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Nott?"

His gaze met yours, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking, "How about you let me get to know you?"

you found yourself contemplating the idea. After a brief pause, a smile crept across your face, and you agreed before turning your attention back to the cats on your bed, who had now comple te ly warmed up to each other.

…

One particularly sunny afternoon you were sat by the lake, cleo, who was quite big now, lay peacefully next to you keeping you company while you tried to study for your upcoming charms assignment.

you were stuck on a particularly hard question and when you decided to look up, you saw that the spot next to cleo was now occupied with her favourite cat, teddy.

you had warmed up to him after seeing him with your cleo so much. You reached your hand out to stroke him before a loud noise startled you.

You turned and saw theodore hysterically laughing.

“That was the most unfunny thing ever” you tried your hardest to hide your smile, but failed nonetheless.

“Yeah well, i got you to smile” he took a seat next to you.

“Well, can i help you?” you asked

“yeah” he smiled “you can talk to me”

“god you sound so lonely Theodore”

“well your cat has clearly gotten mine under mind control, he doesn’t even sit with me anymore”

you laughed

“can i tell you something” he asked “i feel like we are at this point in our friendship where you won’t kill me”

“who knows…” you shrugged with a faint smile on your lips.

“I purposefully let teddy near cleo”

“What?! why” you tried to be angry, but you honestly didn’t really mind the two cats near each other anymore

“because my favourite part of the week, was when you would come and give him to me, even if you were fuming half the time” he snickered

“that’s… really sweet”

he looked away from you and smiled.

“can i tell you a secret” you moved infront of him

“hm”

“every time i saw your cat, i’d be happy”

“why’s that?”

“cause it meant i’d get to talk to you… well shout but still”

he leaned forwards and grabbed you by the waist slowly pulling you closer towards him “can i tell you another secret” he whispered

“yes” you were slowly leaning towards him

he smiled and leaned into your face catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“i think you should let me take you out”

#harry potter #hogwarts #fanfic #x reader #slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar xreader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #injured reader

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost rushes to your aid, only this time, it's to help with a pickle jar.

———————————————————————

“C’mere.” He orders, motioning with his hand.

You roll your eyes at him, although a slight grin forms on your lips.

“No!” you retort as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, leans back into the kitchen chair, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Although he still wears his skull mask, you can imagine a smug expression on his face as he observes your failed attempts at opening that pickle jar.

You wipe your hand on your trousers, then grasp the lid, using your other hand to stabilise the jar. You take a deep breath and hold it in as you squeeze and twist with all your might. But the darn thing doesn’t budge—an oddity since you opened that jar fairly easily yesterday.

“You look like you’re about to fart.”

“Shut up, Ghost.” You snap through gritted teeth.

“What you do clearly doesn’t work,” he states firmly. “Just give me the fucking jar.”

You exhale, relax your grip and shoot him a threatening look.

“No,” you snap again, pointing at him with the jar. “I got this.”

He lifts the fingers that are resting on his bicep and shakes his head.

“It’s too tight, love.”

“It’s not tight,” You reply and knock on the jar’s lid twice. “It’s stuck.”

“Knocking on the bloody lid?” He chuckles softly. “What’s next? Asking the pickles to open up from the inside?”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he replies softly. “It just needs...”

“-a knife.” You interject.

He follows you with his eyes as you march over to the utensil drawer. You slide it open and pull a knife out.

“That’s a bread knife.” He states.

“So what?” You say, waving the knife, “Bread knives are still knives.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies. “There are other ways to open that jar.”

“I’ve tried other ways.”

“You haven’t tried mine.” He murmurs, seemingly unmoved, brushing lint from his thigh.

You roll your eyes again and place the jar on the kitchen counter. Ghost leans further back in his chair to get a better visual of what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to get hurt.” He warns you.

You brush his statement off and focus on the jar. You stabilise it with one hand and put the bread knife between the glass and the lid with the other. You pull on the knife, trying to pry open a small opening. However, the knife loses grip and comes flying dangerously close to your ear.

Ghost pushes the chair with the back of his legs and mutters a sharp “fuckin’ hell” as he rushes towards you.

“You alright?” He asks and grasps your wrist.

“I’m fine,” You reply, defeated.

His hand lets go of your wrist and travels up to your neck. He inspects your ear, making sure you’re not hurt, then grasps your shoulder.

“Why won’t you let me try?” He asks softly.

You sigh, grasp the jar, and slam it on the counter.

“Because you’ll make fun of me just like the others,” you murmur.

“They make fun of you,” He says, pointing at the jar, “for this?”

“For my strength!” You elaborate. “Why do you think this jar is so tight? They’re doing it on purpose, so I ask for their help.”

He chuckles and tightens the grip on your shoulder.

“Nobody is doing that to the lids.” He comforts you. “The refrigerator cools the container and makes the lid shrink.”

You shoot him a threatening side-eye.

“Don’t gaslight me, Lieutenant.”

He throws his head back and sighs.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, “even if they’re purposely tightening the lids, there’s always a better way to unscrew it than hurting yourself.”

“Let me guess,” you sneer, “the solution is to ask you to do it for me instead?”

“No,” he replies, turning the faucet to the hot water. “If you don’t have the muscle—”

“Hey!”

“If you don’t have the grip,” he corrects himself, “you should use your brain instead. As a matter of fact, you should always use your brain first.”

He removes his glove and puts his hand under the faucet. He takes the jar and places the lid under the tap, allowing the water to run on it for a few seconds. Finally, he turns the faucet off, wipes the cap with a towel, and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “try now.”

You take the jar and place your hand on the warm lid. You twist it, and it pops right open. You look at the loosened cap and throw it on the counter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“No need to thank me,” he replies softly. “You did it.”

You study his eyes behind his mask; they’re smiling. You extend that pickle jar to him.

“Want a pickle?” You ask and shrug one of your shoulders.

He shakes his head. “You can have ’em,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I need to start the induction for the recruits.”

You nod as you watch him gather his belongings. He is one of the most ruthless operators on base, and you’ve experienced the violence he is capable of causing on the battlefield. Yet, here he is, offering gentle guidance, advising you to ‘use your brain’ instead of brute force. Not only that, but once he managed to work his way into the jar—clearly twisting the cap with that towel and loosening it—he praised your ‘efforts’, claiming that ‘you did it.’

You take a pickle from the container and put it in your mouth.

How many times has he assisted you behind the scenes, making things easier for you and rushing to your aid, only to later praise your work and efforts, even though he was the orchestrator behind it all? Is that the reason the other soldiers make fun of you?

You take another pickle from the jar and drive it to your mouth, only to stop midway.

The question you’re trying to answer is not how often he acted chivalrous towards you, but...

“Why?” You shout as he walks towards the door, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He stops and turns to you, gripping the door frame. His eyes still smile, but another emotion is lingering behind them this time. He lifts his hand and points to the side of his head.

“Use your brain,” he replies before returning to the door and leaving the kitchen.

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x f!reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #cod mwii #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x f!reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost cod mwii #ghost cod mw2

[sim0nril3y]

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.

It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.

There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.

So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.

The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.

Bloody hell. He was in deep here.

That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.

These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.

“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.

Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?�� Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”

This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.

Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”

You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”

You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.

“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost mw3 #ghost call of duty #ghost smut #ghost fluff #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #1k

[astralnymphh]

thinking about painslut!ellie who likes getting scratched up by long nails.. ✮

nothing— and i punctuate nothing, compares to the painful bliss of feeling nails as whetted as a great white's jaw of knives tear red valleys into her shoulder blades. hell, ellie encourages you to mark up her back. not necessarily by words, though. a sort of fucking frenzy will kick in, and she'll embolden those claws to bite with her hips, rolling on yours, dragging her soppy folds all over your cunt. ellie angles herself in various ways; draws her groin under yours to hump your clit directly, positions and splays her pretty bush as she bounces on your bud, plasters her pussy full–on and circles the skin 'round. an unorthodox aim to get you wailing, "yyesss ellie!" as you cum against her puffy pussy and straightaway, without hesitation tracing your fingertips up her supple, dry–scored skin, you dip pressure beneath the jut of her shoulder blades and shred the flesh. "fuck! fuuck!" els' winces to your ear, growlish on the lobe as she nips it, "yeah, make me fucking bleed baby, fuckin' bleed." almost knurling her back into your clawing palms, seizing and clenching up her rump on your cunt as her cum spills lubricous and frothy inside your pussy lips, hiking herself up just so you could visual the honeyed webs keeping you two connected. "hurts so good, mhmm, so fucking.." but she is nay of breath and hazy of her heart and eye, the added zap to her climaxing core and the throbbing affliction of fresh crimson dashes oozing tiny beads of blood, sanguineous delight, offering of the pale mistress moon— has her merry to pass out. collapsing, her orangey sweat breasts fall to yours and squish like two pancakes, damp waist laying next, and lastly her chin hooking a home upon the nook of your neck, parting breaths she longs to not be livened of soon enough. "thank you.. thank y' thank— mhh, thank you." ellie recites a push of praises through your collarbone, her hand draped limp on your bicep wiping it's thumb so gentle with care, the ghostly graze dithers your brain a second— a moment you skip and fuzz the realization of a warm drip streaming on your rib during, the grasp of what that dribble was hitting you like a brick. "ellie, ur' back— y'need to.. huhh.. band-aid.." exhausted, little heaves clog your throat through the words, but ellie slacks her head up and renders them useless regardless, "mh–mm, it's fine. don't need 'em tonight." she gauzes your light worries in a tone that sifts through you, relaxes you, crafts you a reason to wonder 'why bother', and lie there lackadaisical as her kisses pepper cold on searing skin, a dozing meadow under the twilight sky of her sleepy gaze and in her arms like earth crust and soil fertile. sprouting in you a drug–like miasma that eats your thoughts and lulls your physical senses into a numb horizon, the last thing perceptible is the wash of air above you and a weighted thump beside you, leading you to believe ellie had bet on falling asleep as well, happy as a parakeet with liquid–iron proof of her bloody lovemaking flowing like a waterfall of bitterness down her back.

however, that proof had leaked and dotted the bedsheet come virgin daylight, adding one more thing to the laundry basket. ౨ৎ

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie smut #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams concept

[livinginshambles]

Hear me out, please |James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The aftermath of when James found out you were his 'cinderella'. James tries desperately to get your attention to get you to hear him out. A tiny twist.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Timeline might be a little off, but magic so whatever i guess? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you guys will think it was worth it!!

Masterlist Part one Part two

___________________________________

A lot of things went through James' mind as he stood there in the Great Hall. You could hear a pin drop before Regulus finally shot into action and dashed out the hall to go after you.

The murmuring started to continue now that the first silence had been disturbed.

"Oh gosh, she's so dramatic," your sister laughed. And she put a hand on James' shoulder to pull him back to his seat.

James turned his head slowly. His attention zeroed in on the hand on his shoulder. He coiled away.

"What the fuck have you done," he spat at her.

Marla's eyebrows shot up. "We did you a favour," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

It sent James over the edge. He grabbed her upper arm and harshly shook it.

"A favour? A favour!?" He asked incredulously. His voice raised in volume. "What on earth is wrong with you!" He screamed and looked around; his eyes blown out. "With all of you!"

"You mean what the hell is wrong with you, James?" Your other sister, Alyssa, piped up. "Why are you defending her?" That last word was spat out with so much disgust that it opened finally James' eyes to what you must have endured. He fought the urge to slap her expression off her face.

James let go of Marla's arm and pushed her a few steps back while doing so.

No, he needed to fix this. He just had to. If you would just listen to him, he would explain it all. And then he'd protect you. From every hurtful comment out there.

If you would just let him.

"Regulus," James grimaced. The boy was blocking his path and view, standing in the doorway. You were out of sight, or at least out of James's sight.

"Potter," Regulus curtly nodded at him.

"I need to talk to her."

"You've said plenty."

James 'brows furrowed, and his jaw flexed. Why was everyone deciding everything for him all of a sudden? Why couldn't everyone just mind their own bloody business? If they had, none of this would have occurred.

He would be patrolling with you in the evening, and you would make him laugh about one of your dry remarks. He wouldn't have known that it was you who he was looking for, but in time, maybe he would've figured it out. Or maybe he would've pushed his mystery girl to the back of his mind to let you and all the new feelings in.

"Actually, I haven't. I haven't said enough because everyone is saying things in my place instead. But I never got the chance to say what I want to say, and every time I do, it seems too late. I just want to talk to her." The words flew out of James' mouth, built up regret, anger, and disappointment from how things had escalated.

"Perhaps you haven't said much." Regulus looked James up and down and weighed his words carefully. "And maybe that's part of the problem. But right now, she's certainly heard enough. She doesn't want your grand words."

James closed his eyes in frustration. He wanted to protest, he wanted to scream at himself and pull his hair out, but ultimately, he just wanted yet another chance.

He hadn't expected it to be you. Not at all, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more it seemed... right. And he didn't know why he had been so adamant to form some sort of relationship with you, but the way his heart blossomed when you were around only pulled him further in.

James looked at the ground, as if the solution to his problems would be written down there.

"Okay," he relented.

Without a moment of hesitation, Regulus went to slam the door in his face but stopped at the box that James held put to him.

"What's that supposed to be?" He flatly asked James.

With a heavy heart, James showed Regulus the pair of glass slippers that you had left behind at the Yule ball, and that he had so carefully carried around with him.

James searched for his words his. "I've been holding on to these to return them to their owner," he made an attempt at a smile but dropped it, feeling pathetic. He wondered if he looked as pathetic to Regulus as well.

"Well, I suppose I should return them, now that I've found her." James pushed the box into Regulus' hands, threw one glance past the boy in hopes to catch a glimpse of you, and rubbed his face with both hands as he dejectedly walked away from the Slytherin dormitory.

Perhaps he could try again later.

You stared at the glass slippers in your hand. It felt cool to the touch and looked so beautiful, but you couldn’t help the bitter taste left in your mouth. With one smooth movement, you threw and smashed one of the slippers against the wall opposite of your bed. It shattered in pieces, and you had to smile at that. Even with every spell to reenforce the glass so you could actually walk on it, it broke. Then you gathered every bit of frustration you had in you, and you screamed as hard as you could, tears flowing in frustration.

You hated that you were crying. But the sheer defeat and powerlessness that you felt was too overwhelming, your voice cracked mid-scream and you threw the other slipper to pieces in anger as well. It wasn’t even about the gossiping amongst the students anymore.

You were so tired; you actually couldn’t bring yourself to care about what everyone must be thinking right now. But your sisters and James. You dug your nails into your palm.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and straightened your posture. With your hands, you smoothed out your frown, fixed your hair and put on a wide smile. All in all, you looked psychopathic, but anything was better than pathetic. You turned on your heel and got ready for your first morning class.

James watched your empty seat in Divination class. This was the only class in which the last two years were put together. He wondered if you would show up. But he knew you. Possible more than anyone. So, he knew that you would never miss a class, because you wanted perfect grades and a perfect attendance rate. You were just like that. Ambitious.

James mind replayed your words again. He was every worst characteristic of Gryffindor; you had said to him. ‘Arrogant, prideful, and reckless’.

Next to James, Sirius was also lost in thoughts. Your words resonated in his head as well. Prejudice creates a vicious cycle. It was true. Sirius’ eyes flickered towards the other empty seat where Regulus was supposed to be. He had completely abandoned Regulus, giving his brother the cold shoulder, and despising his elitist thoughts, undoubtedly created by his mother. Because he had abandoned Regulus.

Sirius wondered what would have happened if he had tried to maintain a good relationship with Regulus after having been sorted into Gryffindor. He wondered if he would have been able to convince Regulus to run away with him.

There was a knock on the door and Regulus walked in with a blank face. He nodded his head in apology at the Professor and took a seat. The door opened again, this time with a little more force.

“My sincere apologies, professor.” You wore a smile that sent chills up James’ back. His body almost involuntarily shot up to go up to you, but he caught himself, and he longingly looked at you as you passed by instead.

After having gotten used to your discrete gestures of acknowledgement in the form of waves, smiles, nods or even winks, James’ heart tugged when you didn’t spare him a glance. You graciously took a seat and motioned at Professor Trelawney to continue.

James jumped up when class was over. His belongings had long since been packed, and he dashed towards your leaving figure.

“Y/N!” he called out to you.

You turned around and looked him in the eye. All the words that James had prepared during the rest of class escaped his mind. James felt those chills again and he finally understood that in all his years with fights between the two of you, you had been petty, threatening to take points away. You had been angry, throwing insults back at him, and you had very much been a major asshole in general. But you had never been this hostile.

“Let me say this once, so we can all be done with it, and never talk about this again, Potter,” you sharply stated. “I am sorry that I wasn’t who you wanted me to be. However, let me make it clear that this was my secret and mine to share. And I made perfectly clear that I was not going to, so your blatant disrespect to publicly call me out the way you did, is simply appalling.”

Remus called James’ name and James made the mistake to look back. When he turned to you again, you were already further down the hall, turning the corner with a steady pace.

James didn’t see you around anymore until Thursday morning. His eyes basically lit up and he repeated his apology in his head. “L/N, wait,” James tried, and he chased after you. Unlike last time, you didn’t stop. Curious students watched you two pass while James tried to match your pace.

“Hear me out, please.”

“I said all I wanted to say, Potter. Let’s stay out of each other’s way from now on.”

“After you let me explain,” James pleaded.

You laughed. “Nothing you tell me will change my mind. I won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” You gave him an annoyed look.

Still, James was not planning on giving up. You weren’t the only determined one here. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into a room. Your eyes squinted and gave him the dirtiest look they could. James immediately let go of you, hands up in defence, a string of apologies following suit.

You glared at him and went to walk straight out of the room when James pulled you back again, and this time, he cupped the sides of your face, and pressed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you hesitated, utterly confused and surprisingly rather okay with the unwarranted kiss. And then anger hit you. Did he bloody think this would woo you, and sweep you off your feet and make everything alright? How dare he kiss you in attempt to manipulate you. You slapped him across the face in shock less than a second later. James blinked back at you in horror at his own actions.

“Godric, no- I- I am so bloody sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m- I don’t know what went through my head, please wait-” You slammed the door in his face when you left. James hit his head softly against the door. And then he hit it again but a bit harder as he cursed. “What the hell is wrong with you mate,” he groaned to himself. “You bloody git.”

He stared at the dark wood of the door in front of him reluctantly. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind just staying in the room to rot away, how was he going to face you now?

“Lily, please go in my place,” he begged the redhead. “I’ll take your Tuesday shift, I promise.”

Lily shook her head. “Stop being a baby, James. You reap what you sow and I’m not patrolling tonight.” She walked past James and then turned back around.

“Some friendly advice, James, stop being so pushy. No is no, and it might have been cute as 11-year-olds, but not anymore. We’re no longer kids. But good luck.”

James reluctantly dragged himself towards the Great Hall where he could see you pick your nails in front of the door. He felt ashamed, guilty, and absolutely not ready to look you in the eye.

“Hi,” he awkwardly managed. “So about-“

“You’re late. Let’s get a move on it.” You cut him off.

“Right, yeah, we should do that- patrolling.”

It was quiet, not a word spoken between the two of you as James trailed half a step behind you. He glanced at the side of your face. Shadows and light flickered across your face every time you passed a torch.

The silence of the castle did him good, he realised. He’d much rather walk in silence next to you, than be in the midst of all that chaos that was going on right now. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket happily.

“What are you smiling about,” you asked, a frown on your face.

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.” The smile dropped of James’ face.

“Well, you don’t have to stop smiling because I said so,” you shot him a strange look. “I just wanted to know what’s so funny.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” A beat. And then, “Lily told me to stop trying to apologise to you if you don’t want to hear it.”

You considered his words. You supposed you mostly wanted someone to be angry at. You didn’t want to hear James out and then maybe see that your anger was misdirected. You wanted to stay bitter.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, well, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t been able to apologise, and nothing had been cleared up between the two of you, both of you felt yourselves relax a little more. You continued to roam the corridors in silence.

The next three patrols were spent in the same basked silence, occasionally one or two words exchanged. James had so many things he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t want to ruin anything. And then you suddenly spoke up again.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

James perked up at your words. “Thank you,” he grinned at you gratefully. “Are you going to watch the game?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be helping out in the infirmary.”

“Did you finish your herbal research then?”

Your eyes flickered up at him in surprise. “Yeah, Madame Pomfrey and I will put it to test.” James nodded along.

“Well, if you ever need a patient, I’d volunteer,” he joked. He watched in triumph as you shook your head in amusement.

“Better check your broom for hexes tomorrow,” you replied. “wouldn’t want you to fall off your broom and break a bone or two.” James snorted.

You pulled the curtain to the side with an exasperated expression. “I was only kidding Yesterday, Potter. What on earth are you doing here.”

James gave you a weak smile, trying to hide the pain in his arm and ribs. “Volunteering to be your very first patient, of course.”

“Tell me you didn’t break your bones on purpose,” you squinted your eyes at him.

“I didn’t break my bones on purpose,” James obediently replied. He shifted in curiosity as you rummaged through a cabinet. “Is this not fixable with any spells?” He pondered when he saw you pull out several vials.

“Externally, yes. But you’d be in the same excruciating pain as if they were still broken. You motioned towards the vials. “Hence the herbal potions.”

“Is that the one with the Nettle and Dittany?” James nodded his head to the bottle on the left.

You hummed in approval, not bothering to hide the fact that you were impressed. “Who knows, Potter. Maybe you have a future of a healer as well.” James beamed in pride at your compliment.

“Just keeping my options open.” James sighed happily. He was glad that he could joke around with you again. You tapped a bottle against his cheek. He let you pour the potion into his mouth.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” You pulled out a stool and sat down with a notebook in case you needed to take notes of the effects of the potion. At one point, you must have fallen asleep with your face buried on James’ infirmary bed. A strand of hair was tickling your nose and you huffed to get it out of the way. James shifted to tuck it away with his non-injured hand.

You opened your eyes and jumped up. You looked around disoriented and when your eyes landed on James, who had tilted his head, you felt embarrassment creep up on you. “I’m terribly sorry, that was unprofessional of me. Are you feeling any better?”

James nodded. He sat up to prove it, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “All better. And if you get to apologise, so do I, right?” He looked at you hopefully, internally praying that you wouldn’t just march out straight away. “Will you hear me out?”

You sighed, knowing what would come next, but this time you sat down on the stool again instead of walking away.

“I didn’t know.” When you didn’t respond, he repeated himself. “I didn’t know it was you, and I didn’t know it was going to be published in the newspaper because I wouldn’t do that- you know that I wouldn’t.”

He looked at you and saw you staring back at him. He took it as a sign to continue and cleared his throat. It felt so dry all of a sudden. You quietly reached for a cup of water and handed it to him. James took a sip, a deep breath, and started to ramble on without breaks.

“Sirius found your parchment and then you sisters found it too, but I didn’t. I really didn’t. Sirius said they had already run off and he tried to fix it on his own, so he didn’t tell me, and I only found out right before you did and I would never have written such a mean article about you, because we’re friends- well, at the very least I considered us friends- and I just wanted you to like me because-” James stopped.

“What, you fancy me?” you rhetorically commented. 

James’ heart stopped and his face flushed. “No, of course not! I just- Well, I don’t know- It’s, uh I guess I just,” James tried to form a coherent answer, trying to weigh what answer would scare you away.

You frowned and let your eyes flicker across his face. “Stop it,” you shook your head in denial.

“Would it be so bad?” James murmured. “I didn’t know. But I know I liked the girl behind the paper. And I know I liked my patrol partner.” He hesitated and took a step forward. “I think you liked me too, before you knew my name.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Before I knew your name. Once I learned it, I no longer did,” you lied. “Because we would never work. Every student said so. All the whispers and comments, insults and rumour were right.”

James shook his head.

“So, date me to spite them. Prove them wrong,” It was a pathetic attempt, but he saw the consideration flash in your eyes, and the more he thought about it, the more he started to get convinced that this was a decent idea.

“You’d have us enter a fake relationship to spite everyone?”

“It wouldn’t be fake to me,” James shrugged, getting more confident by your open attitude. “And who knows, maybe I can convince you that the guy from the paper is still inside of me.”

“This is so stupid,” you shook your head.

“Guess what,” Sirius asked Remus, he covered the page of the book Remus was reading to capture his attention.

Remus slapped Sirius’ hand away. “What,” he replied curtly. Sirius moved to sit on the table of the library. “Are you angry?”

“Mildly annoyed, yes.”

“Because…” Sirius trailed off unsurely. He hoped that Remus would finish the sentence for him, which, luckily for Sirius, Remus did.

“Because I think it’s time you guys stop pestering her. I know you planned to get James in the infirmary. Leave her be, you’ve done enough damage as it is.” He sounded disapproving. Sirius dropped himself back on the table, laying across it as if he was a sacrifice on an altar.

“Prongs likes her.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s handling it terribly,” Remus drily remarked. He took off his glasses and started to wipe them with the hem of his sweater. Sirius patted his pockets, reached into his left one and handed Remus a cleaning cloth for glasses.

“Why are you guys nice to me,” Remus asked quietly.

“What are you talking about Moony, you’re our best friend?”

“I know, but why?” Remus lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf, aren’t I? I’m a literal monster. So why are you nice to me. But somehow feel the need to keep pranking and bullying Slytherin students? We’re in our last year. Don’t you think we should grow up?” And with ‘we’, he meant ‘Sirius and James’.

‘I know, Moony.”

“Do you now?”

“I think I’m going to talk to Regulus.”

Remus choked on his spit. “I’m sorry, Pads, you’re what?”

“I just don’t want to be like L/N’s siblings. I know I sort of am, but I don’t want to be. And you said we should start being nicer right?”

“Pads, last time you said something to him, he literally hexed you.”

“I insulted him,” Sirius heard himself say and he felt weird for a moment.

“He’s after your ass during every Quidditch game, trying to knock you off your broom.”

“Well, that’s just the point of Quidditch,” Sirius defended again.

Remus smiled at Sirius. “Alright, just be careful. Mid-terms are coming up and I’m too busy with studies to fix you up again.”

Sirius grinned. “If all goes well with Prongs, I could ask L/N to patch me up.” Remus threw a quill at him. “I think I’ll go find L/N later, see if she knows where my brother is.”

The door opened and Remus looked behind him. He did a double take and put his glasses back on to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Sirius was still laying on the table, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I’ve found her,” Remus remarked, uncertainly.

Sirius sat up and gaped at the sight on you and James, walking into the library together while talking. James was holding a pile of books and by the colour of the cover, he knew that those were not James’.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

You looked up in alarm at the words and found Sirius and Remus sitting at a table in the corner. “We talked it out,” you nonchalantly mentioned. Remus gave you a smile and Sirius just stared at you. Then; “Hell yeah, Prongs, I knew you had it in you to confess.” Sirius jumped off the table and patted you on the back with a grin.

You laughed back uncertainly and looked at James with questioning eyes. James looked back at you, reassuringly. He moved all of your books to one hand and guided you to a seat with the other.

“Where’s Regulus,” Sirius asked immediately as soon as you sat down.

You raised your eyebrows. “He’s in the astronomy tower. Didn’t want to join James and I to the library.” You smiled at recollection of the younger Black’s reaction to you and James.

“No way.” He had replied. “What are you two planning?” James had looked at Regulus with an offended look. “What are you talking about? I fancy Y/N and she fancies me, so we decided to make it official.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe you fancy Y/N, but there is just no way she would enter a relationship with you of all people. What’s the deal.”

Sirius nodded. “Well,” he started, “I mean, if he wants to, he uh, the library is a public space, so he could join. If he wants.” Sirius awkwardly sat down on a chair. You squinted your eyes at him. “I’ll be sure to let him know,” you said. You watched as Sirius puffed out a sigh in relief.

You glanced down at the messy scribbles on Sirius’ paper and raised your eyebrows. You’d imagined that the elder Black would have a better handwriting than that. “Anyway, do you need help with Transfiguration as well?”

The news of your relationship spread like fire. Your sisters both received it with a sour look on their faces. “He’ll see we were right, and he’ll leave you again,” they said, purposely loud enough for you to hear it. James had just entered the room and walked straight past them towards you with a flower. He dropped it next to you and sat down beside you.

Against your will, your heart made a small jump and the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. James’ eyes flickered towards your lips and quickly looked away happily. Then he leaned in a little and whispered, “We’re not breaking up if it’s up to me.”

He shifted in his seat, subtly scooting over closer to you. “Go on a date with me tonight,” James whispered.

“We don’t have time tonight. Patrol, remember?” You argued back.

James grinned and shook his head. “Afterwards.”

“It’s past bedtime afterwards. I will not-”

“Sneak around the castle and get caught, I know. But you forget that I have an invisibility cloak.”

You laughed this time. “I’m almost tempted to take 20 points off Gryffindor for your outrageous plan.” Your eyes twinkled and James joined in. He put his hand over his heart in fake shock. “You wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend,” he squinted his eyes, challenging you.

“If he misbehaves,” you answer amusedly. But then you hummed in thought. “Fine, I’ll bite, what do you have in mind.”

James’ grin widened. “The lake’s still frozen,” he whispered. You deadpanned. “I can’t skate.”

James leaned his head against you. “Exactly, it’s the perfect chance for me to show you my gentlemanly skills and woo you.” You turned your head and breathed in the smell of James’ shampoo. "You just want an excuse to hold my hand," you mumbled in his hair. You could feel James smile against your shoulder. “I’m your boyfriend, I don’t need excuses,” he joked.

James swore his heartrate sped up an unhealthy amount when you confirmed, “No you don’t.”

He was absolutely beaming next to you as you were patrolling down the corridor, hand in hand. Your eyes flickered over to James once in a while. It was suspicious to you that he’d been quiet the entire time. James on the other hand was just looking at your intertwined hands with interest.

“Never held hands with a girl before, Potter?” You laughed, but no venom was found in your voice.

James nodded. “Never held hands with a girl before,” he confirmed, not ashamed at all for it. Why should he. You looked at him with curiosity. “What about Lily?”

James snorted. “Have you ever seen us hold hands?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’.

“I was stressing a lot about being a good boyfriend, my hands got really sweaty,” James bashfully explained. You lifted both your hands and squeezed his hand a few times. “You don’t stress about being a good boyfriend for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You immediately groaned internally and looked straight to the floor, intently watching your feet as they simply fascinatingly put one in front of the other. I mean, have you ever seen something so-. James wasn’t having it.

“’m not stressing with you. I have a pretty good feeling about us.” He sighed contently. You huffed. “Well, I have high standards, and I’ve been told I’m pretty high maintenance, Potter.” You stuck your nose in the air haughtily.

“First, you should stop calling me Potter,” he remarked.

“James,” you nodded. A chill ran up his spine. “And second?” you inquired.

“Second?”

“Second,” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh! Right, second; I didn’t know you had a relationship before?” And just as soon as those words left his lips, he cussed himself out in his head. Great, now he seemed either a twat as if he couldn’t believe someone like you could have a relationship, or a twat who was jealous and obsessive. And it’s only the first week. James averted his eyes to the wall on his left. Ah yes, the wall seems to be made of stone. Very sturdy, very wall-like-

“No, I’ve been single pretty much my whole life.” You put on your usual sour face, and vaguely gestured to it. “Not very approachable, as I prefer.”

“Then who calls you high maintenance?” James thought bitterly, feeling the need to defend you. “Calm down, prince Charming,” you reassured him with a laugh. Maybe you could see the charm in his recklessness. “I can fight my own battles. And basically, everyone calls me high maintenance.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence again, making your way to the prefect room. You rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a document and started to fill it in. James leaned against the table. “Where do you go during Spring Break? Do you stay at Hogwarts? Because I can also stay at Hogwarts to keep you company, you know.”

“I have my own apartment.”

“You’re not even of age yet,” James pointed out, trying to hide his disappointment unsuccessfully at a missed opportunity of spending time with you.

“Professor McGonagall vouched for me,” you replied. James’ eyebrows flew up. “McGonagall?” He asked in disbelief. You just hummed in reply while you flipped the page to continue filling in the report.

“Well, if you want you can come with me?” You stopped writing and looked up at him intently. As if you were searching his face for any hidden intentions. When you didn’t find any, you gave him an apologetic look.

“That’s kind of you, James,” you smiled. “But I have Regulus staying with me.”

“He doesn’t stay at the Black manor?” James was surprised. You tilted your head. “Tell me, does Sirius stay at the Black manor?”

James quickly shut his mouth as realization dawned on him. Oh.

“Well,” he awkwardly shifted. “You’re both welcome,” he offered. You shook your head in laughing at the mental image. The thought of Regulus and Sirius living together for two weeks was just hilarious.

“I’m done, we can go.”

“Alright, I just need to pick up my invisibility cloak from the Gryffindor common room.”

“I’ll wait here,” you nodded. James offered you a strange look.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him.

“You’re not going with me?”

“What all the way up to the third floor? I think not,” you snorted, plopping down on a chair, and making yourself comfortable.

James huffed and didn’t move. “But what if something happens to me on the way there?” He dramatically sat down next to you on a different chair.

“What on earth could happen to you on the way to your room. This is Hogwarts, you know. The safest place in England probably.”

“What if a monster attacks me, and then I can’t come back, and you’ll think that I stood you up?” James retorted with a pout.

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of you nose. “There are no monsters in this castle, James, where do you think we are? You’re not going to run into a Basilisk on your way.”

James squinted his eyes at you. “But can you promise me that with 100% certainty?” You rolled your eyes in response. “Of course not, but would you take me with you and expose me to such dangers?” you sarcastically retorted.

“Well, technically speaking, and I’m not saying all Slytherins,” James held up his hands at your narrowed eyes. “Snakes are kind of your thing, right?” You closed your eyes. “Charming, you are. Let’s just go,” you sighed.

James grinned in victory as he held the door open for you. “For the record, I would totally protect you from a Basilisk.”

“If you say so.”

Sirius sat up in bed when the door opened, but no one came in. “Hey Prongs, how was ice skating?”

James removed the invisibility cloak to reveal your shivering form. Both of you drenched from head to toe, water still dripping from the locks in front of his eyes. “Got pulled under,” he stressed. “I didn’t know where to take her, I couldn’t let her clean record be tainted for being out past bedtime because of me, and I don’t know the Slytherin password, so I brought her here,” he started to ramble in a loud whisper.

Remus grumbled as he sat up too. “Bloody hell, Prongs, did you take her to the black lake or what?” And when James didn’t respond, “Mate, what is wrong with you.” He got up and walked to the bathroom to get a few dry towels to wrap you in.

James discarded his soaked clothes and dried himself off before putting on pyjamas. Then the three of them stared awkwardly at each other. “Well, she needs to get out of those cold clothes,” Remus remarked. Sirius stepped back. “Yeah, not my girl, not my duty,” he walked over to his bed and dropped down on it.

“Right.”

You woke up and the first thing you noticed was the red colours all around you. You sat up suddenly and blinked a few times. What happened? Oh, right. A hand had broken through the ice, wrapped itself around your ankle and harshly pulled you down into the freezing depths. So that means you’re either dead, or James got you out and brought you to the Gryffindor dorms instead of the infirmary because he kept your clean records in mind. Your heart filled with appreciation at the thought of that.

You looked around and found James on the floor next to you. He was curled up in an extra blanket, but it must be uncomfortable. You went to pull out your wand when you realised that you were wearing his sweater. The little shit changed your clothes, you huffed.

You quietly got up, found your clothes drying in the bathroom and slipped out your wand. With a quick levitation spell, you gently tucked James back into his own bed. Your eyes fell on the two parchments on the nightstand, and you allowed a nostalgic smile to adorn your face. You moved his hair out of the way and let your eyes rest on his peaceful face. Realising you were being creepy, you hastily turned around and snuck out of the room with your clothes and a rolled-up parchment.

“And where have you been,” Regulus sat on the common room armchair in front of the door. He looked like he hadn’t properly slept, and his tone was sharp. “And what atrocity are you wearing. Tell me you didn’t sleep with him?”

“You’re my brother, Regulus, not my mother,” you teased him. You pulled out a chair to sit next to him. “And no, I went skating, fell into the water, blacked out and woke up alive in the Gryffindor dorm. So don’t hex James, if anything you can thank him.”

There was a beat of silence. “I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Did you stay up all night?”

“Yes, but mostly because I wanted to tell you something.” You didn’t immediately reply, waiting for Regulus to continue on his own instead.

“Sirius came up to the astronomy tower yesterday evening,” he quietly said. His voice sounded confused, as if he was still unsure of what had actually occurred.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” Regulus immediately said. “It’s just that he apologized.” He shrugged. “You think he meant it?”

You thought it over. “I think he did. He asked me last week you know. Where you are, and that if you ever want to join us in the library, you can.” Regulus nodded deep in thought.

“You know, James actually invited both of us over for the Spring Break.” You looked at Regulus to gauge his reaction to that. He looked slightly interested, though he tried to hide it.

“I suppose it’s still a month away, so we’ll see what we want then.”

You nodded and then got up off the chair. “I’m going to change into something else, before my fellow house students want to jinx me,” you said.

“You’re dating James Potter; people already want to jinx you.”

You winked at him. “Well, I’ll be damned, you’re absolutely right. Isn’t that funny? You know what, let them try,” you challenged them as you smoothened James’ sweater.

James woke up and sat up straight in bed, confused. How did he get here? He Looked at the end of his bed and saw it still neatly tucked in- hospital corners. His lips twitched up. You had left, he realised, but you’d tucked him in. He let himself fall back onto his pillow and turned his head to the side. Then he frowned, put on his glasses, and grabbed the parchment. In your lovely handwriting was a message.

Maybe not a Basilisk, but you protected me as you said. Thank you, James. (All things considered, I enjoyed last night.)

James’ eyes traced the words before he carefully placed the parchment under his pillow with a giddy feeling in his heart.

James found you in the library with Remus. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that you were still wearing his sweater. Red looked out of place on you and James absolutely loved it. Sirius shared a look with him and then the both of them decided to sneak up on the two of you, simultaneously stealing your books from under you.

You and Remus narrowed your eyes at the both of them. “I am this close to kicking you guys.” You held up your hand to show your thumb and finger pressed together. James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But they’re touching,” he hesitantly responded. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and quickly handed Remus both your books back.

You sarcastically faked a gasp. “Oh, Merlin, you’re right, they appear to be.”

James cheekily grinned and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You wouldn’t hurt your knight in shining armour,” he bragged, but without any real arrogance laced in his tone. You flipped him off with a grin and pulled out a chair for him next to you. “You’re late,” you airily said.

Sirius suddenly straightened up, his attention fixed on someone behind you. You turned around and waved Regulus over. “Come join us, Reg.”

Three weeks flew by in a blur, but- even though you’ve said this so often now- your were really enjoying your time at Hogwarts again. People’s gossips and predictions about yours and James’ relationship had turned into quiet whispers and envy.

James stood up for you on multiple occasions- after letting you have a go at the imbeciles of course. You had finally gone to a Quidditch game to support James, though of course not when they were playing against Slytherin. You had spent more time in the infirmary and James had joined you a few times by hanging out on one of the empty beds, occasionally handing you an ingredient such as Wolfsbane.

After having established that you absolutely loved hugs, James was always less that a step behind you, ready to give you the affection that you were too proud for to admit you wanted. You had been a frequent visitor to the boys’ dorms as well, making yourself comfortable in James’ arms as you dozed off for a nap. On other nights, you have even managed to persuade Regulus to join a handful of times as well. You wondered what would happen when James would graduate before you, but tried not to think much of it.

“So, we are definitely going to Hogsmeade together this week, right?” James popped up behind you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How scandalous, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, why? You have a boyfriend or something?” James humoured you.

“Or something,” you joked. The innocent comment hit both you and James at the same time. A reminder that you two were in fact technically not really dating. You shook the thought away.

“I’ll see you at 11 o’clock,” you replied.

James grinned, “I’ll be there five minutes earlier.”

True to his words, he was waiting for you in the courtyard when you arrived on the dot. James offered you his arm and you linked yours through his.

“James?” James hummed in reply. “Does your offer about Spring Break still stand? I mean, I know it’s next week already, and it’s sort of short notice-”

James perked up. “Yes!” he said, a little too quickly and enthusiastic. He cleared his throat and lowered his volume. “Yes, you and Regulus can still come.”

You sighed and nodded in relief. “Right, because Reg and I have been talking and we might take you up on that offer.”

It was evening by the time you and James made your way back to Hogwarts. James had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you held his hand. James pressed a kiss to your temple every now and then. “What happened to the glass slippers?” He suddenly asked.

“They broke.”

“They broke?”

“Yep.”

“But didn’t you enchant them?”

“I did, but I was so angry at you that I smashed them to pieces against the wall like over two months ago.”

“Oh… But have you changed your mind since then?” James decided to finally ask you.

“About what?”.

“Me, and us.”

You looked at James and quietly admired him. James kept his eyes straight in front of him, too scared to look at you and see your reaction.

“Well, we are walking together, coming back from Hogsmeade. There’s not a student in sight and yet we are still holding hands,” You light-heartedly replied with a teasing smile. You squeezed his hand for good measure. It seemed enough to make James look at you.

“I’d say we’re pretty good friends-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You froze in your tracks and let go of James’ hand. Well, that took you by surprise. Fancying someone and claiming to be in love with someone- not loving but being in love- that was a next level. You smiled amusedly, successfully hiding your insecurities. “James, you’re not in love with me.”

James frowned at your response. He’d accept your rejection, but not you doubting his feelings.

“Yes, I am,” he stubbornly responded.

“No, you’re not,” you retorted, equally stubborn.

“Am too.”

“You’re not, James,” you exasperatedly said. “You’re not in love, you just fancy me because you’re comfortable.” You shrugged awkwardly. "And you only feel comfortable with me because I know so much about you. Because you poured your heart out to a stranger, and it so happened to be me.”

James bit his cheek, considering your words. Then he grinned and nodded. Your heart dropped, but not as much as it could have, because you had already prepared yourself for this. The joy behind setting yourself up for disappointment by never letting yourself get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable with you.” He agreed. “Isn’t that great? Isn’t that love too? Being comfortable to the point you don’t feel the need to keep secrets anymore, where you feel the most accepted? The most at ease?”

You stared at James then cleared your throat. “So, when did you start being all knowledgeable and romantic?”

James snorted. You were adorable when you were awkward. “I’m the most comfortable with you,” he earnestly confessed to you. He carefully, as if to not scare you away, put a step forward and reached for your hand. He squeezed it softly. I mean it.

James felt you pull your hand back and bit his lip, forcing it to curl up into an accepting smile. “Right,” he cleared his throat as he tried to form a reply. But you weren’t done yet. You pulled back your hand and then threw both your arms around James’ neck as your brought him in a tight hug. You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck.

“And I’m the most vulnerable with you,” you mumbled against his skin. James sighed in relief, happiness, and love. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, as if to shield you in response.

You tilted your head sideways as you looked at James who was in front of you, down on one knee in your garden. James looked beautiful. His cheeks were slightly coloured from the cold and his hands held a small box with a ring.

“Love?” He asked, waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. He didn’t sound nervous at all, in fact, he felt the most relaxed he’d ever been. This was definitely the future he’d imagined when he’d watched you laugh with his dad while bringing in the groceries. “My knee is getting numb from the cold, love. So, if you could just say yes or no,” he cheekily grinned.

You hummed in thought and then you replied, “Well, isn’t marriage a little too soon?” Your grin widened and spread across your face. “I mean, you’ve yet to officially ask me to be your real girlfriend.”

“Wait what-”

The end :)

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[the-hipster-nugget]

I think we need to talk about Scott’s third life death scene more often, specifically about the scene directly afterward with Martyn and Ren.

It’s so fucked up that Martyn chases after Scott, not hurting or actually touching him but follows him so his king can get a chance to kill him, but Martyn doesn’t touch Scott. Instead he yells after him these half baked apologies and explanations, trying to tell him “I didn’t want Jimmy to die!” That is actually insane.

As Martyn is chasing that boy he connected with at the start, the one he entered the nether with; they went through this worlds actual hell together. Now Martyn is tasked to take after Scott to not let him escape, someone he used to be close to, he chases with death in mind because his king commands it.

And Scott finally stops to face martyn, as the pathetic hand tries to tell him “we didn’t mean to kill your husband” is SO fucked up. Out of everything Martyn said, before having to watch his king murder him, he tells Scott that it was never his intention to harm Jimmy.

Upon Scott’s death, Martyn does not cheer or rejoice, he just lets out this pathetic noise of defeat after Ren murdered Scott for good. Martyn stands there feeling null and empty, while his king goes into hysterics.

Ren also, upon killing Scott, is immediately rushed with guilt and horror at himself. Starts sobbing, “how many more do I have to kill to this violence comes to an end?”

“It’s dripping into my eyes… I can’t see, I’ve been blinded by violence my hand.”

Ren sacrificed himself using Martyns hand, allowed his head to be chopped off so that he could become a red name- but even after all that, he cannot kill without guilt. Other red names like Skizz and Joel get this bloodlust and hunt like a predator. While Ren, the wolf king, kills and then he cries. He sobs and begs for Martyn to hold him. He’s a red name supposed to be thirsting for blood but it isn’t giving him that rush it should. He had Martyn take his head, and all for what? What was this all for?

He’s a red name, and the king of a red kingdom, with a red shield. He brought red winter in his wake, but he stays awake at night shivering in fear about the death of others. In his heart, Ren is too good hearted to kill without remorse. Despite it being his job, and something he sought out to do on purpose; he feels horribly guilty.

The blood dripping into his eyes blinding him is insane symbolism. Being a red name gives him this urge to kill, and it blinds the players. But doesn’t give Ren a rush of ecstasy or excitement, it scares him. Ren feels so blood thirsty that he gets dizzy, and it makes him want to cry. It makes him scared of himself, and he breaks down as yet another person died at his hand.

He begs Martyn to hold him, and all he can think about is before he had to murder another person. He never wanted to become this red king, never wanted his crown to be stained in blood. He wanted to hold Martyns hand, and enchant with him. That’s all he wanted, was a life of peace with his dear friend. Martyn was his friend, not his hand.

Ren asked for this, he prayed for red winter, but now that it arrived, he is so so cold. Ren just wanted to feel the warmth of spring.

Neither of them wanted to kill Scott. Neither of them felt satisfied watching Scott lose his final life, but they murdered him together anyway. They killed him, and then they cried about it. They hold each other in the dead of winter.

“How many more people do we have to kill before all this violence comes to an end?”

The red king just wishes red winter would finally end. He’s tired of his bloody crown weighing down his head, his weak scarred neck struggles to hold. Martyn holds his king in attempt to comfort him, but all he thinks about is how eventually, they will have to die too. Maybe if they’re lucky, they’ll die together.

#third life #3rd life #inthelittlewood #rendog #ren the dog #Scott smajor #smajor #life series #renchanting #treebark #renchanting duo #Martyn inthelittlewood #Martyn #c!martyn #dogwarts #flower husbands

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 

"They are." 

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…" 

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #soft simon riley #soft ghost #fluff and smut #call of duty #mw2 fluff

[lxvvie]

I need more free use! Simon but I’ve got no ideas what his s/o could do with him🫠🥲

Free use!Simon but instead of sex, it's... intimacy and affection.

Simon who fully expects you fuck him dumb when he comes home from a fairly long deployment but you pamper him instead and he's equal parts taken back and enjoying it because why the fuck not?

Simon who anticipates your hand going into his sweatpants when you come up from behind him but nope, your hands stay firmly on his hips. You kiss his shoulder, tell him he's the most beautiful thing you've ever laid eyes on, and holy fucking shit, his face is hot—

Simon who finds himself on the receiving end of a nice session of body worshipping. You cornered him right after he got out of the shower and you made sure to kiss and caress any and every scar and bruise you could, especially the recent ones. By the time you're done, Simon's positive every part of his body is covered in goosebumps and that he fucking whimpered. Good boy.

Simon who was so goddamn sure you were gonna leave a hickey on his neck but all you did was kiss his Adam's apple ever so softly and he could choke on the things he's feeling right now and fuck, you're killing him, doll—

Simon who thought you were going for your signature ass grab in public of all places but you simply rest your hand on the small of his back. And keep it there. Bloody fuckin' hell.

Simon who finds himself under you in bed. Not that he's complaining, mind you. And then you begin covering his face in gentle kisses. Every fucking inch, he feels the softness of your lips and his eyes flutter closed and yeah, his face is hotter than ever and his cheeks must be red as shit at this point. You tell him you love him on your final kiss and he just crumbles.

Simon who thinks he received nudes or some shit on his phone while he was away on another mission but no, it's one of the sweetest damn texts he's ever received. You wish him luck, you tell him you miss him, you tell him you can't wait to have him back in your arms again and he swears his heart is about to burst. And yes, Johnny, he's absolutely dandy. Thanks for asking.

#free use!ghost #nsfw. #call of duty modern whorefare. #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #x poc reader #x black reader #x plus size reader #task force 141 #cod x you

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 10 ] || [ Chapter 12 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz

Chapter 11: Excuse me?

A DM suddenly shoots up to the top of the pile in Kyle’s Tinder DM list and his eyebrows raise when he sees your name.

It’s been a month and a half, maybe longer, since you two last matched and after the brief rejection and you having gotten with Price, his life moved on and he kind of forgot you existed.

But your sudden message whose preview starts with “hey sorry to be botheri-” intrigues him so he presses it.

you: hey sorry to be bothering u but i figured it was safe to dm u about this because between u and johnny u seemed to be the most mature one! is simon okay? he stopped replying to me like a week ago and im concerned

Kyle’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead upon reading the question.

Kyle: he’s been texting u? 🤨 you: HI! yeah he has Kyle: excuse me? 🤨🤨 Kyle: like texting texting u.  Kyle: as in you text him and he answers and u 2 chat? 😐 you: yes? 🙃 Kyle: tf kind of witchcraft did u pull on him? 🤨 Kyle: he doesnt text.  Kyle: not one of us can get more than a thumbs up reaction to our texts in the groupchat. 😑 you: he texts me! Kyle: 😫?? Kyle: jesus christ.  you: you didnt answer is he okay?? 😭😭

Kyle thought back on a reason why Ghost would suddenly, well, ghost you. But he can’t think of any… Ghost is a notoriously bad texter, it doesn’t surprise him that he went MIA…

And then it hits him.

It’s 8 A.M. in the rec room of their floor and Ghost was making tea just as Johnny was taking a seat in the couch.

Kyle oofed as Johnny hit him, throwing his legs over Kyle’s lap. “Watch it mate, fuck you’re bloody heavy!” He complained.

“AH, FUCKIN’ HELL!” Ghost cursed as he threw his hands up in the air the sound of water dripping on the floor catching his attention.

Kyle looked over to see Ghost had spilled his boiling hot water everywhere on the counter.

“You alright L.T.?” Soap asked a she lifted his head over the back of the couch to peer at Simon just like Gaz was.

“Great.” Ghost grunted as he picked up his phone from the counter, which was also dripping in water, while his other hand threw a rag onto the mess of water dripping down from the counter.

“Oh fuck… ‘s your phone dead?” Soap asked and Ghost grumbled under his breath, not quite answering the question, as he busied himself soaking up the spilled water.

Just then, Price showed up at the rec room door. “Simon, gear up. Got a briefing for a solo mission in 10.”

“Fuckin’ hell, yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ghost grunted as he cleaned the mess and then rushed out the door, leaving his mug of tea in the counter and clutching his now broken phone in his hands.

Kyle: hes fine. Kyle: he spilled water on his phone and killed it I think.  Kyle: and he got sent out before he could get it fixed. 🙃 you: oh okay good! you: thanks! you: sorry to have bothered you! 🙏 Kyle: now wait just a minute. 😤 Kyle: u need to explain how in the hell u and ghost talk.👀 you: ghost? Kyle: that’s his work name. 🤷‍♂️ you: fitting seeing as i thought he ghosted me Kyle: THAT’S THE JOKE I MADE JUST NOW TO MYSELF! 😭 you: were in sync it seems 😭 Kyle: answer the question tho. you: idk what u want me to answer with Kyle: wdym u dont know??? explain yourself. Kyle: how do you get ghost to text u???? you: idk? im funny ig Kyle: 😑 you: im sorry if thats not what u want to hear Kyle: wait Kyle: a couple weeks ago he was out all night Kyle: during morning training soap was talking about how he had a date Kyle: was he with u? 👀👀 you: soap? Kyle: johnny. Kyle: keep up cmon now. you: jeez don’t patronize me you: yes simon was with me Kyle: 👀👀👀 Kyle: i see. Kyle: tell me more. you: theres nothing to tell Kyle: thats a lie and u know it.  you: its not!!! Kyle: cmon. Kyle: u cant just meet with a bloke with a skull mask on and then say u dont have anything to tell. 😑😑 you: a skull mask?? Kyle: did he not wear a mask when he was with u? 🤨🤨 you: yes? you: a black one Kyle: with a skull print on it yeah? you: no??? 🙃 you: just black! Kyle: jesus christ. Kyle: and what? what happened? you: nothing?! Kyle: walk me thru it. you: we went out for a drink then came back to mine and watched a movie! Kyle: 🤨🤨 Kyle: and had a shag? you: NO???? Kyle: wdym no? thats what would normally happen with a bloke. you: and???? you: this is simon were talking about kyle you: nothing about him screams normal exactly 🙃 you: hes joked about being able to kill me with his bar ehands you: bare hands* Kyle: fair. Kyle: this raises more questions for me. you: what Kyle: like u would meet with a masked bloke that can kill u with his bare hands alone without protection? 🤨 you: i had protection Kyle: not a condom. you: oh 😅 you: well we met at a pub soooo  Kyle: what did u 2 do then Kyle: other than watch a ‘movie’ 🙄 you: played mario kart you: slept Kyle: as in Kyle: you SLEPT? like honk shoo honk mimimimi? you: yes🙄🙄 Kyle: im confused. you: ur confused? im fucking confused bro Kyle: wdym u SLEPT TOGETHER? 🙃 Kyle: WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS?  Kyle: wtf have u done to him Kyle: like ghost doesnt text, he sure as shit doesnt visit people, and he doesnt go on dates, he doesnt sleep next to people, im almost sure the man doesnt have feelings or emotions and only speaks in sarcasm  Kyle: how can u get that out of him?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: no one else can! you: well with that mentality you cant you: idk what to tell u you: we hit it off 🙄 Kyle: explain yourself. you: ive been explaining it!!!!! Kyle: no explain it better. Kyle: I think Im having a stroke.  you: idk how to make it clearer??? Kyle: thats it. Kyle: are you free rn?? Kyle: I need u to explain urself. 😑 you: Im at work? Kyle: whens ur lunch break? 👀 you: in 35 minutes. Kyle: do u like ramen? you: yes? Kyle: whats the closest japanese to ur job? you: Akira Kyle: meet me at Akira for lunch. Kyle: I’m buying. you: who said i want to meet up with u?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: man just get down there. Kyle: im offering to pay. you: fineeeee 🙄

Kyle quickly hopped up from his seat at his desk with a start and rushed back to his room to change out of his fatigues.

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur

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#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader