#ft. my friend riley

[shrimploverart]

silly fursona drawovers

#ft. my friend riley #my art #fursona #furry #furry art #my ocs #catty

[larabar]

aggie things

#sth #doodles #ft my dog riley and also mr wolf because i Finally watched the bad guys last night #good movie :] #earth is fine btw dw about it #my friend STILL adding blush to every drawing. love them sm #<theyre the one who added earth exploding .btw

[ghostandsoap]

Call Signs

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! “Gecko” Reader (Ft. John “Soap” MacTavish)

Tags: Angst. Gunshot wound. Blood loss. Shock. Hypothermia. Major injury. Mentions of death. 

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: So I’m not totally sure how accurate some of this is. Also, I’m not sure if parts of this are canon? Read with caution LOL. 

“Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

Military call signs. Clever, crafty, and specific to the person they’re associated with. 

There was one main, golden rule when it came to call signs: don’t complain about your own call sign, or else they’ll give you something worse.

Yours wasn’t exactly one that you were thrilled with in the beginning. It wasn’t as badass as you would’ve liked. If you had been given the opportunity to choose, you would’ve chosen something a little more…tough. But once the name stuck, you were stuck with it. You didn’t dare let even a single word of distaste fall from your mouth. If anybody caught wind of you complaining about it, they’d give you something to really complain about.

Over the years, you had heard some good ones — some more creative than others. Depending on the person, sometimes it was easy to tell the reason behind their given name — other times, not so much. You had some friends that you still didn’t know the reason why they were given their call sign.

For example, Soap was just Soap.  

In the time that you had known him, you had begged Soap to tell you where his call sign came from. You had even rattled and poked at Captain Price a bit to get him to give it up. But both of them always gave you the same answer.  

It’s classified. 

With that answer, you refused to tell anyone the reason behind your own call sign. If they weren’t going to tell you about theirs, then you weren’t telling them about yours. It was only fair, you weren’t telling anybody. Nobody knew. 

Well…nobody except–

“Gecko. This is Ghost. How copy?” The syrupy-thick voice seeped through your ear that was still ringing from gunfire. 

You were cold – miserably cold. You were chilled all the way to the bone to the point where your skin was numb to the touch. The sound of rain registered with you. The sky was pouring buckets, which explained why you were so freezing. There was no telling how long you had been passed out and exposed to the elements. Not a single part of you was dry, despite all your layers underneath and over. 

There was pain somewhere. Your groggy state made it difficult to figure out exactly where you were hurt. To be honest, it hurt just about everywhere. A searing sensation settled in your side, but it was migrating all over. Based on the large red spot leaking through that area, you had a really good idea then of what it was.

“Gecko, do you copy?” Another voice spoke that you knew to belong to Soap.

His voice sounded a million miles away, even though it was literally right in your ear. When your eyes opened, you were eye-level with the ground. You were met with a harsh pavement underneath you, muscles trembling with exhaustion and low temperatures. It took a few seconds for your vision to clear, and it took even more effort for you to raise yourself up even to make it onto your elbows. 

When you were able to take a glance around, it wasn’t any less unsettling. The slick streets of Las Almas weren’t very pleasant in the dead of night. Even worse, you didn’t know where Soap and Ghost were. 

It all came flooding back to you. Graves turned on the team. He tried to kill all of you. You, Ghost, and Soap managed to split up and narrowly escape. It was chaos, the kind that shaved about 15 years off of your life.

“C’mon. Where are you, Gecko?” Ghost asked in an aggravated, yet worried way. 

His question was more out loud and to himself more than anything, but it occurred to you that it probably would be nice for him to hear you.

“I’m here,” You groaned, throat dry and scratchy. “Just barely.”

“Oh shit. You’re alive!” Soap replied, and you swear you could feel Ghost relax from wherever he was. 

“What’s your status?” Ghost demanded.

You were not telling Ghost that you were hurt if you could help it. It was certainly against protocol, but you didn’t need Ghost getting all worked up when the three of you needed to find one another and get the hell out of there. You knew how he could get whenever you were hurt.

“Where are you both?” You rolled onto your knees, ungracefully managing to get on your feet.

You felt any and all blood rush from your face, an overwhelming feeling of nausea taking over your stomach. The bleeding in your side was definitely a problem. You stripped your outer jacket off, wrapping it around your waist and tying it as tight as you could possibly stand it. It wasn’t like the jacket was useful any other way, considering it was soaked.

“No fuckin’ idea. I’m in and out of these shops,” Soap grumbled. “I’m soakin’ wet.”

“Me too,” You managed to laugh, but it came out as more of a struggled exhale. “Ghost, what’s your location?” 

“The church. Soap’s finding his way here,” Ghost said. “What’s your status, Gecko?”

You knew he’d ask again. He always knew when you had dodged a question.

“Just a little rattled,” You lied. “Where’s the church?”

“It’s in the square. Navigate through the shops, they’ll lead you there,” Soap said. “Stay sharp. Shadows are everywhere.”

Survival mode has kicked in for you. You had one objective.

Find Ghost. Don’t get killed. 

“Will do. Ghost, I’m coming to you.” You announced, beginning to take the first few steps to get yourself moving. 

There was a brief moment of silence before he answered – and he gave an answer that you knew had Soap raising a brow.

“Please be safe.” 

A shudder vibrated down your back, and it wasn’t from the bitter cold rain. 

Being involved with Ghost was…complicated. It was a forbidden love in a lot of ways. There was a certain disapproval when it came to 2 members dating within the force. It caused drama sometimes, tension other times. Not to mention, it would be painfully awkward for everybody else if the two of you were to break up. 

But the connection was undeniable. It astounded you just how in touch you felt with him. He did everything he could to protect you, to make you feel safe in an otherwise dangerous world. He spent every spare moment with you. He spilled all of his most pressing thoughts to you, knowing his words of vulnerability were safe with you. Talking to him was easy, spending time with him was easier.

Loving him was easiest of all.

Despite your likeness toward each other, it was a mutual understanding that no one was to know. Ghost didn’t fancy all the teasing, and you wanted at least one part of your life to be private. In front of others, you were Gecko and Ghost. When alone, you were Simon and [Y/N]. 

In a lot of ways, the secretive aspect of it was fun. You liked sneaking around with Ghost in the late hours of the night, tip-toeing around sleeping comrades in an attempt at a moment to yourselves. The nonchalant glances…the discreet, yet lingering touches…the whispers of words of affection. It was all something you couldn’t help but get a kick out of. Anybody in their right mind would find it even a little bit entertaining.

But in all honesty, suspicions from the rest were becoming more and more. 

Price had known immediately. Not even three days after you and Simon decided to give it a try, he could sense that something was different. He couldn’t really explain it. He could just see it in Ghost’s behavior that he was preoccupied with something…someone else. Something that had been sprouting for a long time was now beginning to blossom in front of the captain’s very eyes. Price was a respectful man. He wasn’t one to get in the way of something that wasn’t his business. He kept an eye on the situation here and there, more for a status update than anything. 

It took Gaz about four months. He suspected nothing in the beginning. He managed to miss all the signs at first. Who could blame him? He didn’t know he was supposed to even be looking for them. He didn’t catch any real changes in behavior or attitude. In all honesty, if he hadn’t witnessed it with his very eyes – he might’ve never known. It had been a quick gesture. So quick that Gaz might’ve been able to convince himself that he was mistaken if it hadn’t been so blatantly clear.

Gaz had passed by a bit quicker than he normally would, catching a quick glimpse inside the room he hadn’t planned on entering. What he saw was a kiss being planted on the cheek of Ghost’s mask, and a light laugh from the man as you did so. Gaz had stopped dead in his tracks, stunned at what he had seen. He was tempted to turn around and question you, but he knew better. Gaz figured if he hadn’t been told outright, then it probably wasn’t for him to know. He kept it in the back of his mind, however, and after that, he began noticing everything.

And as for Soap, the poor lad had yet to connect the dots. He had heard some chatter here and there about Gecko and Ghost “getting it on.” Soap didn’t believe it. He hadn’t seen it or heard it for himself, so in his mind, the rumors were null. That didn’t mean that Soap didn’t like the idea of his lieutenant and one of his closest friends seeing each other. He entertained the thought here and there. He supposed that Gecko and Ghost had a nice ring to it, and it was something that he liked to snicker about. Overall, Soap didn’t think about it too much. There was no way that “LT” and the infamous Gecko were together. Almost a year into it, and John MacTavish was oblivious.

It hadn’t taken you long to develop feelings for Ghost. Suddenly, you were worried about where he was and him getting hurt more often than not. This was one hell of a career to be in when you were an anxious worrier. This job had changed for you. Before, there was no fear of living or dying. It was just you. It was all you. But when there was someone else in the cards?

That changed things. That really changed things.

That seemed to be the only fight that you and Ghost ever had. It was always the same one. One of you fell ill or became injured, it was due to defying an order, the other was scared to death that something worse could’ve happened, and most of all – you both wished that the other would be more careful. 

“Careful” was a funny word in this business. No matter how careful you were, that didn’t automatically make you safe. 

Roaming the streets of Las Almas while lethargic, unarmed, and bleeding was a definite reminder of that. You followed Soap’s advice, weaving in and out of the stores and getting whatever supplies you could get your hands on. A homemade weapon was better than no weapon, in your mind. Avoiding any and all Shadows was your main goal. There was no chance of you getting out of that alive, if this bullet lodged in your side didn’t kill you first. You hoped that Soap had made it to the church by now. It made you feel better to know that they were together.

The rain showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. You figured it was fine. It wasn’t like you could get any more wet than you already were. It at least made enough noise to conceal your footsteps, which you didn’t have much control over due to the splitting pain in your core. 

You just had to get to the church. Get to the church, get out of here, and get patched up. You’d be fine. You’d survived worse. You weren’t going to-

There was a flash of white over your vision. While brief, it was enough to startle you to a complete halt. You staggered out of the coffee shop, leaning against the back door for support. This was bad. This was really bad. 

“Ghost…” You squeaked.

Breathing suddenly became overly difficult. Every gulp of air was a struggle to get the next one. There was a significant wobble in your knees as you stumbled into the nearest alley for cover, knowing your legs were close to giving out. It was notably colder in the space between the two buildings, but the feeling of your soul being slowly sucked back into the universe made that seem minor. 

“Talk to me. Where are you?” Ghost asked.

That was when you collapsed, landing on the wet ground with a thud. A whimper escaped from your throat at the impact. Clutching your wounded side was all you knew to do. Your jacket used as a makeshift way of putting pressure on it was proving ineffective. 

“The alleyway,” You strained.  “Left of the coffee shop.”

Ghost and Soap both heard the trouble in your voice. Ghost had only heard that tone once before — and it was when something was really, really wrong. 

“What’s your status now?” Soap questioned.

Lying was no good to you now. They were going to know one way or the other.

“I’m down,” You swallowed. “Must’ve been hit at some point when we got away.” 

There was no way you were making it to the church. You were as good as gone as long as there was still a bullet in your torso. Bleeding out in the streets of a run-down town in Mexico wasn’t how you had envisioned going out. That was a conversation you had held with Soap more than once. Everybody had their preferred way of dying. You had always hoped that you’d meet your demise in a more memorable way. Maybe in a missile explosion or getting ejected from a helicopter in a hot pursuit.

Dying alone was the part and the possibility that always scared you the most.

This wasn’t what you had in mind. Bleeding to death by yourself in an alleyway in the middle of a run-down town in Mexico wasn’t what you had wished for. You knew the day would come…and the day had finally come.

But not if Ghost could help it.

“I’m coming to get you, Gecko. Don’t move,” Ghost remarked sternly, and you could hear that he was on the move. “Soap, we’ll meet you at the church.”

“Copy.” Soap confirmed.

“N-no,” You coughed. “Ghost, don’t leave your location if you’re secure.” 

“None of us are secure. I’m not leaving you,” Ghost said sternly. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.” 

Arguing with Ghost was usually a lost cause. When Ghost was set on something, he was surely going to stick with it. It was a waiting game now, and it was one of the most helpless feelings to know that you were relying on somebody else to save your ass. You knew that Ghost would be there in half the time that it probably should’ve taken him, but when you’re dying, the minutes feel like eternity. 

This wasn’t the first time that you had been in situations like this. Everybody had their fair shares of “I almost died” stories. But this was different for you. This was the closest you had ever been to not living to tell this story. 

Panicking was most definitely not the way to handle this situation. Very rarely was panicking ever helpful in a dire, critical scenario like this. It was the most eerie feeling – literally feeling yourself dying. The blood loss was becoming less, but only because you were running out of blood to lose. Your heart was beating slower and slower by the second. Breathing was now a voluntary action. As the adrenaline wore off and the reality of the situation set in, your anxiety crept over you and infiltrated any room for collectedness that you had left. 

“G-Ghost.” You sighed, a layer of tears pricking at the base of your lashes.

Ghost heard the near sob in your words, putting an even faster pep in his step. 

“Almost there, Gecko. What’s wrong?” 

“I’m…I’m scared.” You admitted, hot tears mixing with the fresh rain water on your cheeks.

Ghost’s heart shattered into a million pieces, catapulting into every vessel near it like the strongest of shrapnel. He couldn’t stand the thought of you alone and scared. 

“I know. Just keep talking to me and Soap,” He breathed, trying to stay calm for you. “I’m coming, G.”

‘G’ was a nickname inside of a nickname. Ghost only used it sparingly, and it was usually when he was trying to be supportive or sympathetic without giving your secret romantic endeavor away.  

It felt silly to say. Generally speaking, you didn’t really have the right to be afraid. It was the pure passion for your job and your own willingness that put you in dangerous situations. It was your own free will, your own decision that you made the same choice on every single time. It was one thing to be scared when you ended up here accidentally. It was another when it was a consequence of your choices and actions. Courage and strength were supposed to be your strong suits. They were the characteristics that you were supposed to fall back on every time.

Yet here you were. Scared to death of dying – something that you had thought about and been preparing for since you started this gig.

“Simon, I-I…I don’t want to d-”

“It’s ‘cause I clean house quickly.” Soap’s voice echoed in one ear and out the other, suddenly and abruptly.

What? 

Even in a near unconscious-like state, you were still well aware of how that needed some clarification.

“S-say again?” You stuttered, the corners of your vision beginning to go foggy. 

“Soap. ‘Cause I clean house and buildings with speed ‘n accuracy,” Soap repeated. “That’s why they call me Soap.”

Soap!

It made so much sense. You were almost embarrassed that you didn’t think of that yourself. You knew it was Soap’s way of distracting you – keeping your mind off of dying. 

“That’s a good one,” You nearly wheezed. “Thought it was because you were a bath man.” 

“Thanks for that image. Won’t be able to unsee that one,” Ghost piped up. “Almost there, Gecko. Hang on for me, yeah?” 

Ghost’s voice was strained as if he were running. Using every ounce of speed and stamina that he had to get you as fast as possible. He couldn’t lose you like this.

He refused to lose you like this. 

“It’s because I’m quick on my feet, and because I can scale a building faster than anybody.” You croaked.

“Ah. That’s why they call you Gecko?” Soap chuckled, and you could hear the amusement in his words.

“Came up with that one myself.” Ghost smirked.

“Some people might even say geckos are kind of cute.” You joked, but didn’t quite have the energy to laugh.

“I’d agree with that,” Ghost countered, and you could sense Soap’s internal confusion from forever away. “I have a visual on Gecko. Almost at the church, Soap?” 

“Affirmative, Lt. Meet you there.” 

Sure enough, Ghost appeared from seemingly nowhere, like a sent guardian angel. Your vision had tunneled, so you couldn’t see much out of your peripherals. He had never seen you so weak and close to going out on him. His eyes behind the mask were wide and dark, focused on getting you out alive.

“Nice to see you, Lieutenant.” You shivered.

“Glad you’re not a goner,” He returned, removing the glove from his right hand and pressing his fingers against your cheek. “Shit. You’re freezing.”

“How bad do I look?” You slurred, and you fought to keep your eyeballs from rolling back into your head. 

“Probably not as bad as you feel. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Ghost said, working quickly to get himself arranged to carry you.

“Did you see any Shadows on the way?” You gulped, eyelids beginning to flutter. 

“They’re everywhere. We need to get going,” Ghost scooped you up effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing and weren’t dripping wet through multiple layers. “C’mon, love. Let’s get you out of here.”

The journey from the ground to up into Ghost’s arms felt like an airplane takeoff. You were close to slipping out of consciousness.

“We’ll get to Soap and get a vehicle out of here,” Ghost explained, readjusting his arm underneath your knees. “You’re going to be fine, Gecko.”

“G-Guess I wasn’t quick enough this time, huh?” You gave the faintest grin, and Ghost couldn’t help but laugh at your stupid joke.

“Shut up.” 

There was relief in knowing that you were with Ghost. Your chances of dying hadn’t changed, but if you were going to die, this was a better way of going out. 

The fog in your vision became thicker and thicker until you couldn’t see or hear a thing. The darkness surrounded you, sucking you deeper and deeper into nothingness.

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡                                     

The next time your eyes opened, you weren’t met with the dim streets of Las Almas. There was no smell of rain or taste of blood and sweat. The smell this time was sterile air and cheap (but clean) bedsheets. You couldn’t taste anything due to the worst case of cottonmouth that you had ever experienced. The beeping music of an EKG reader and distant chatter was the real giveaway. 

The muscles in your legs were stiff, mainly because you hadn’t moved them in so long. A grunt was all you could manage as you shifted, a new type of discomfort erupting where you had been shot. It was all wrapped up now (professionally and medically wrapped), clean and taken care of. There was an IV in each arm, one administering fluids and the other what you could only imagine to be some kind of pain medication. The white walls and tan floors were weirdly comforting…a sign to let you know that you were safe for now. 

The best sights of all were the ones seated to the left of your bed.

Ghost’s arms were crossed, ankles crossed over each other, and his head lowered and his breathing steady. His outer skull mask was nowhere to be seen, but his balaclava was clinging to his face as always. 

Soap was also snoozing, but less peacefully and quietly. His head was tilted back as far as it possibly could go, his arms draped at his sides, legs stretched all the way out, and snoring so loud that you were surprised you hadn’t already heard it.

You were gentle as you called to Ghost, considering he didn’t always react calmly when being woken up.

“Hey…” You rasped with a dry throat. “Ghost.”

His eyes snapped open, flickering up to you instantly. A monumental wave of relief visibly crashed over him, filling his veins and relaxing his heart.

“You’re awake,” He leaned closer, taking your hand into his. “You’re okay.”

“What…how long has it been?” You asked, bits of your memory coming back to you.

“A few days…four I think, ” He answered with a nod. “How do you feel?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure. Physically you felt terrible, but better than when you were dying of shock, cold, and blood loss. Mentally you felt fuzzy and groggy from being out so long. Emotionally…well, only time would tell.

“Like shit.” You admitted.

“Not surprised.” He grinned under his face covering. 

There were a few beats of silence. You took a few glances around, getting familiar with your new setting. Ghost, though, never took his eyes off of you. They were a light shade of red, and even his balaclava couldn’t hide the dark circles under them.

“Have you slept at all?” You asked, knowing good and well he hadn’t left your side.

“A little bit here and there,” He said, motioning his free hand towards Soap. “This is the most sleep Soap’s gotten this whole time. He’s been out for about 30 minutes.”

Soap was indeed out like a light. You couldn’t imagine how tired the two of them were. There was another stretch of silence. This one lasted longer and was much more tense. This wasn’t an easy encounter. How were you supposed to act when you had barely scraped by with your life?

“Simon?” 

“Yeah, love?”

“How close was it?”

Simon stared for a moment. No formation of an answer to your question occurred for a second or two. He didn’t like that question. He had avoided thinking about it until now. Ghost knew that he’d have to do his own mentality check in with himself in a few days. He had almost lost the most important person in his life…he’d need to deal with that. 

“Too close.” 

Another silence. Another silent thank you that you were here to see another day.

“You were…hypothermic, in shock. You lost a lot of blood before and during surgery,” He said. “Doc said if it had been any later getting you help-”

“Hey,” A groggy voice piped in, unaware that he was interrupting. “Gecko’s up.”

Soap’s eyes were just as bloodshot as Ghost’s, but Soap’s personality was wide awake.

“Happy to see you again, Sergeant. My apologies for being absent from our reunion at the church.” You grinned.

“Yeah, yeah. Left us to do double the work,” Soap chuckled. “Feels weird callin’ you Gecko now that I know where it comes from.”

“Soap doesn’t have the same ring to it, I have to say.” You fired back. 

“Agh, I’m crushed. Right in my pride!” He shrieked. 

The three of you shared a soft laugh. Nothing like Soap’s comedic relief to break the tension. You felt okay. This was just one of those things. One of the things that you signed up for with this job. It didn’t make it any less unnerving, but now you felt like you could really move on from this. 

And you were thankful that you had lived to tell the story. 

There was a sudden itch in your throat. An annoying tickle that reminded you that you hadn’t had a physical sip of water in four days. 

“Do you think that I could get some water?” You wondered aloud, nearly choking on your own words from the parched feeling.

Ghost hadn’t left your side when you were knocked out, and he surely wasn’t leaving now that you were awake.

“Johnny, could you-”

“Yep! On it.” He scurried out and down the hall without another word. 

That left you and Ghost. The man that saved your life by risking his own to come back for you. You didn’t even want to think about what you would’ve done if Ghost had gotten killed at your expense. At least you would’ve died together, but that hardly sounded right or fair. Ghost deserved so much more. 

“You scared me.” Ghost confessed, not even hiding the worry in his voice. 

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, doll. Just…” He sighed. “Just really thought that I had lost you this time.” 

There wasn’t anything you could say to make him feel better. You knew that because you had been in his shoes. His head wasn’t in the best place. You knew that even better. But if there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that you loved him more than anybody else ever could.

“Thanks for coming back for me.” You whispered, a sudden set of tears slipping down your cheeks.

Ghost raised his balaclava. The material stopped just under his nose, his bare lips coming to press a kiss to the back of your hand. He made a solemn swear to himself in that moment that he’d never take you for granted again. He’d never get too comfortable with having you around and at his disposal.

Because fate was far too cruel for that.

“Always.” 

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[mykneeshurt]

Can u PLEASE write me a little drabble abt Simon with his wife (me)?? Maybe some fighting, ft. Some makeup sex??? Thanks bestie 🫶🏻

Bestie am so sorry this has taken months. It’s been half done in my notes for ages. But it’s done! I hope you enjoy ❤️

Mine

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, jealous behaviour (we do not like this in relationships irl)

Gaz sat opposite you, smiling as he nursed a pint of Guinness. The busy hum of the pub buzzed around you both, the joyful laughter of jokes shared, the clinking of glasses and the gleeful rowdiness of patrons enjoying their time together. This was your favourite pub, built in 1800, dark beams adorned the ceiling and a gorgeous stone fireplace hugged the corner.

You sipped your wine, the warm hug of alcohol coursed through you as you allowed the tangy taste wash over your tastebuds. This was your fourth? Fifth glass of wine? You were waiting for the rest of the boys to turn up, to celebrate a mission well done. Soap was going to be late, of course, and the Captain was on his way. No word from Ghost though, something you were used to.

Gaz glanced down at the sparkling band on your left hand. ‘How is married life then?’ Smiling you shrugged ‘exactly the same.’ He let out a hearty laugh ‘well that’s a good thing! Just goes to show a piece of paper doesn’t mean a thing. Is he just as allusive at home as he is in work? Ghost by name Ghost by nature?’

‘Actually no, and he’s not that allusive in work. He just likes to get the job done. And anyway…’ you smirked as you tapped his knee ‘I don’t kiss and tell.’

Gaz rolled his eyes, blinding you with his dazzling smile. If Ghost hadn’t have made a move on you, you would have definitely asked Gaz out. You worked for the intelligence sector, which is how you met Taskforce 141. Laswell introduced you during a briefing and the rest was history. You gelled well with the team, dishing out the banter just as well as you took it. Calm, collected and logical, you were an asset to them and they knew it.

‘So…’ you asked inquisitively ‘how’s your lady friend? Is it still going well?’ Gaz dropped his shoulders before he lowered his gaze. ‘Nah, we split up last week. I’m ok though.’

‘Oh Gaz! I’m so sorry! What happened?’ You asked as you pulled him into a hug. ‘Eh. Just wasn’t meant to be. Plenty other fish in the sea. I’ll be fine. Promise.’ While you believed him he still looked crestfallen, you knew how much he liked her.

Before long Soap and the Captain joined you, pints in hand as they scooted around the table. ‘Know when he’ll be joining us?’ Soap asked as he took a long sip. ‘No idea, you know what he’s like. He just materialises out of no where. Still does it to me in the house, can’t hear the fucker’ you giggled. The boys followed suit, laughing into their drinks at the expense of your husband.

Your husband who had been watching you from a small corridor next to the bar. Having felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention you gazed around the room. Until your eyes connected with his, a devilish twinkle illuminating within the darkness. He stood leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, biceps bulging beneath his black t-shirt.

With a swift ‘excuse me gentleman, need to use the ladies room’, you scurried to the toilet. But before you could enter he pinned you against the wall. ‘How the fuck do you do that?! You just fucking appear!’ Your tone was half playful, half annoyed. He ran his thumb along your jaw, ‘not here.’

Pulling you through a door he very hastily led you to the cellar. Dull lightbulbs barely lit the damp and musty cellar, plenty of dark corners amongst the barrels and crates of alcohol. ‘What are you doing?’ You huffed as you skipped wooden steps to keep up with him. His hand gripped your arm tightly. Almost possessively. ‘Simon for fucks sake!’

He swung you round a corner and pushed you up against the stone wall, both hands placed next to your shoulders as he crowed you in. ‘Havin fun with Gaz eh? Didn’t think he was your type.’ He chewed his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line. ‘You better not be implying what I think you are’ you spat back.

‘You tell me. Patting his knee, hugging him for everyone to see.’ He lowered his lips to your ear, breath tickling the fine hairs on your neck, ‘you’re mine.’

Raising your ring finger you waved it in front of his face ‘I told you, till death to us part, and that will be here much sooner than you think unless you take it back.’ Holding your ground you stared up at your husband, daring him to imply something else. ‘Now can we go?’

As you went to leave he gripped your hair, pulling your neck back forcing you to look at him. This time against your will. ‘I take it back sweetheart, but first I think you need reminding of who you belong to.’ A wicked grin spread across his lips, that glint in his eye you knew all too well twinkled in the low light of the cellar. ‘Don’t you?’ He cocked his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes.

Hovering his lips barely above yours he whispered ‘I’m gonna fuck you. You’re gonna thank me. And you’re gonna sit next to Gaz with my cum dripping out of your beautiful pussy. Understand?’ Every word was perfectly spoken, his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth with every syllable.

Your mouth suddenly went dry, all moisture having suddenly evaporated. Pressing your thighs together you desperately tried to relieve the ache in your groin. But it was no use. ‘Yes’ you barely managed to whisper back ‘please.’

With an arrogant scoff he smiled as he placed his lips on yours. His kiss invaded your senses, his taste; a weak sting of bourbon, his smell; a mixture of fresh linen and sandalwood, his touch; firm, soft but demanding. Coaxing your mouth open he slowly worked his tongue into it, rolling it on top of yours, leading the dance between them. Making you deepen the kiss before he snatched it away, his kisses moved to your jaw, to your neck, to your ear. ‘Bet you’re fuckin soaking’ he muttered before nipping your ear.

And soaking you were.

A small moan escaped you which only confirmed his statement. With one hand on his shoulder you kept the other on the cold damp wall, something to try and keep you grounded. The muffled sounds of conversation upstairs penetrated the floorboards, reminding you how close you were to every Tom, Dick and Harry. You couldn’t lose yourself here, not like you wanted to.

With your mind being lost somewhere in between nirvana and reality, you hadn’t even noticed that he’d undone your jeans and was gently working his hand towards your pulsing core. Before any words of objection could even be spoken he’d moved your panties to the side and swiped a finger along your slit. A whine, much louder than you’d wanted slipped past your lips. Causing him to place a firm hand over them. ‘Shhhh sweetheart. Don’t wanna be caught do we?’

Shaking your head you tried desperately to keep composure as he slipped his fingers inside. Slowly but firmly he began to work up to a rhythm he knew you loved so well. Rolling your hips closer to him your chest heaved, his fingers filled you perfectly, they reached every spot you needed them to. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit, adding a welcome wave of pressure as he continued working your cunt with one hand.

He removed his hand from your mouth, instead muffling your moans with his lips, his tongue, inhaling every sound with each kiss. Your mouths moved together in unison, deep and passionate.

This was exactly why you married him.

You allowed yourself to give into the pleasure, to feel every movement, every inch of his skin on yours. So much in fact when the door to the cellar opened you jumped, instantly trying to push him away. But he relented. Staring at him, eyes wide with panic he carried on, but slower. The person came down the rickety stairs and began searching for something. All the while Simon was knuckle deep in your cunt, feeling now tight you were getting.

The thought of getting caught was turning you on.

He kept going, adding more pressure to your clit. Your breath staggered, chest tight with anxiety or adrenaline you weren’t sure. But you were close, that you knew for certain. The person moved closer and closer to your position, which only spurred him on further. You could see their outline creeping further and further towards you. Again you tried to stop him, but he relented, instead placing a finger to his lips. Your hips squirmed beneath him, you high creeping closer and closer. That tightly wound spring ever so close to snapping. The walls felt like they were closing in, your hearing was replaced by white noise as tiny prickles of light invaded your vision.

He shook his head, knowing full well you were about to cum. Within the panic you faintly heard the person leave the cellar, the door closing with a click. ‘Fuck sake Simon!’ You panted, ‘that was so fucking close! We need to leave.’ Nipping your neck once more he spun you in one fluid movement, so you were now bent against the wall. Cheek pressed firmly into the cool stone. He snaked his hand through your hair forcing you to arch your back. ‘Not till I see my cum dripping outta that divine cunt love.’

A pathetic whine left your throat.

Pulling your jeans and panties down he held you in place with one arm. His belt and jeans rustled behind you and with one push he bottomed out inside you. Both of you released a breathy gasp at the very welcome feeling. ‘Si … oh fuck’ you moaned, voice cracking under the pressure. ‘Shit’ he muttered under his breath as he began to thrust. Calculated thrusts, firm, demanding and possessive, just like his kisses. You knew he was sending message, and it was clearly received.

You were his.

He was yours.

‘Touch yourself. Cum on this cock sweetheart’ he drawled, voice slurred and thick. You dropped your hand and began to play with your clit, your lost climax suddenly rushing back. He kept his pace, thrusting deeper into you with each movement. The sound of your pussy devouring his cock echoed in the cellar. ‘Fuck you’re so good. Pussys made for me eh?’

You tried to answer but no words would materialise. Eyes rolled back in your head, hair tussled and pussy dripping as he expertly brought you closer to euphoria. Instead small broken cries filled the silence in between thrusts. ‘Fuck … gonna … cum Si … don’t stop’ you barely managed to whisper. ‘That’s it, just like that sweetheart, lemme feel it.’

With a final stroke to your clit the white noise returned, the walls closed in and your breath caught in your throat as you came around him. A strangled yet muffled cry oozed from you, you bit into your arm to stifle the noises. ‘Good fucking girl’ he praised, you could hear the smirk in his voice. Cocky prick.

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts suddenly became longer, sloppier, messy. To help him along you arched your back further, tightening your pussy around him. He choked out a moan as he fell over the edge. You felt him cum inside you, filling you completely. Looking over your shoulder at him you met his gaze, slight disbelief at what you’d just done, but filled with so much love and adoration.

‘Have you got a tissue?’ You asked whilst trying to catch your breath. With a light spank he hit your bare ass, ‘I meant it love. You’re gonna sit next to him with my cum dripping out of you.’ Scoffing at him you braced yourself as he pulled out, but not before he placed a tender kiss on the small of your back.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #fan fic smut #modern warefare 2 #call of duty ghost simon riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley smut #cod mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty fanfic

[cordeliawhohung]

Here’s a few drabble ideas for you for my fav couple you wrote as of date aka shy reader x mafia!simon ft the most cliche tropes in fandom ever but I eat every single one of these up anyways 🥰🥰🥰

-patching him up when he finally comes home after god knows how many hours/days from god knows where, covered in the blood of other men and his own. Bonus if this happens for the first time and it confirms your suspicions about the true nature of his job he tries to shield you from. You don’t ask questions bc you’re just happy he’s home and safe in one piece, but at the same time you’re worried sick and fear that you’ll live to see a day he may not come back home to you (the potential for angst!! Love to see it tbh)

-cooking or baking something together, trying to follow a recipe and failing to follow through bc simon keeps distracting you throughout the whole process. Just seeing you being all domestic, cooking/baking for him, providing for him in that way, and just how much warmth and love you bring into his kitchen, his home. It feels so right. You belong here. You are that missing piece that completes him, makes his life whole

-and just to add a little ✨spice✨, you know those couples games right? W the dice and the cards that lead from one thing to the other😽👀. ShyReader gets one of those from a friend as sort of a gag to “spice up things and maybe finally get past 2nd base” (since it was established that she’s a virgin) and at first she’s unsure of how he’ll react to it, but then figures well maybe just go for it?? Initiates, only to discover halfway through that of course everything this man does is intense, devoted and all consuming including a silly fun lighthearted game she wanted to play and she feels she’s maybe bitten off more than she can chew 🫨🫠

"maybe finally get past 2nd base" DID OUR GIRL DIRTY (but it's true)

but that second one? about them baking together? i'm??? (it turned out to not be as sweet and more devious but ya know)

"simon?"

"hmm?"

"you aren't being helpful."

and really, he wasn't. you had been in the middle of baking bread when your boyfriend had returned home from the gym, and instead of hopping straight into the shower like he usually did, he decided to lean against the counter and watch you work. at first it was fine. you loved his company, and it was nice to be able to chat while you gathered your ingredients to bake. however, the moment you had gotten the dough started and ready to knead, he turned into a menace.

Simon stood behind you with his hands on your hips, gaze peering over your shoulder as you worked at the dough, but his hands didn't stay still for long. they began to wander along your waist, across your stomach, and even up towards your chest where he let his thumbs graze the underside of your breasts.

"'course i am," he retorted.

"no you're not."

as if to prove you right, his hands shamelessly covered your chest fully before he gave your tits a firm squeeze. heat rose to your face as if you were a mercury thermometer, and you groaned as you leaned your head against him.

"Simon," you whined.

"alright, alright," he chuckled as he finally left you alone.

he moved a few steps back before he wandered towards the hallway, seemingly having finally decided to shower the sweat and musk off of him. before he vanished around the corner, he leaned in the doorway with a content smirk on his face.

"by the way, i like your shirt," he said.

confused, you stopped kneading the dough for a moment to glance down at your shirt. two flour stains in the shape of Simon's hands marked right over your tits, leaving behind proof of the way your boyfriend had groped you moments before.

"Simon Riley you are not getting a single slice of this bread, you dog."

#core responds #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mafia!ghost #f!reader

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Could do do another one with ghost?? R is in the Air Force and comes home for the 3 week break only to see the door busted open, R thinks the worst and takes out her own gun only to find some man in her house, fights the man and ghost heard the commotion and breaks them up?? Turns out the man is in fact soap bunking overnight until he can drive to his own house?? Thanks 👍🏻

Unexpected Guests

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader ft Soap.

Your eyes squinted as you approached your door, the bag on your shoulder immediately dropping onto the grass on your front lawn before you reached towards the holster on your thigh to grab your gun. The door wasn’t open enough for a normal person to notice it, but you weren’t exactly normal, being a soldier in the Air Force made you hyper aware of little details.

You slowly made your way towards the door, opening it slightly to see your surrounding before walking in and heading for the first room, the kitchen. Although the house was in perfect order, the way you left it when you left a few months ago, it didn’t stop you from being a slight bit suspicious.

Your heart missed a beat when there was an actual man in your kitchen, too small to be considered Simon, but he was in duty uniform. You wondered if he was one of you, or the opposite. Still, better safe than sorry, right?

You silently made your way towards him, you’re footsteps barely audible as you wrapped one of your arms around his neck, the gun now pressed up against up against his throat. “What are you doing in my house?” The second he felt your arms he gripped your wrists, thinking what to do for a second before pushing backwards making you both fall onto the floor. He landed on you, trying to turn around to pin you down before attempting to grab your gun.

“Your house?!” He near shouted, groaning as your grip on him strengthened. Still, he managed to twist and press his forearm to your throat, your only defence was your gun and your legs, so you pressed the gun to his gut and kicked him where it hurt. The Scottish accent made you slightly question everything. Hadn’t Simon mentioned some annoying Scottish dude he served with?? Soap??

“Soap?” You groaned, his body still weighing yours down, his arm now off your neck so you could breathe freely. You gasped in air, crawling backwards from under the man’s body as he tried to breathe himself away from the pain between his legs. You were going to raise the gun towards him until you heard heavy footsteps along the hallway, so you raised your gun towards there.

Simon basically ran towards the noise, his own gun drawn as he scanned the kitchen for intruders. You breathed heavily and dropped your gun, dropping your head down against the cold tiles too as you slowly regained oxygen. Simon looked at the scene, brows so furrowed you could see his expression through his mask. Soap was still unfortunately groaning in pain, rolling around on the floor in agony.

“What the fuck.” Simon questioned, dropping his arm and walking toward you, watching as you rubbed your throat before you took his hand to help you up. He made sure you were good before crouching next to Soap, exchanging some words you couldn’t hear from where you leaned on the counter, and giving him a hand up too.

“A warning before you invite your friends next time?” You pushed yourself off and walked towards the two, Simon holding onto Johnny just enough so he didn’t fall to the ground again. “I almost shot his head off.”

“I was just about to text you.” He claimed, helping Soap towards the table as you walking towards the fridge, taking out some ice and handing it to Soap with a apologetic expression on your face. You could tell by Simon’s tone he wasn’t mad, but rather amused until it dawned on him both of you could of been dead.

“Jesus, man. You’ve got a kick to ya’.” Soap groaned placing the ice against his crotch. Simon turned to you and cupped your jaw, checking your neck carefully assessing the damage. There’s be some slight bruising but over all you were both fine, thankfully.

“It was either your nuts or my lungs, take a guess what I’d have picked.” You argued, still feeling a little bad knowing basically everything about this man yet not even aware of what he looked like. “I would have shot you if not for your accent, man.”

Soap chuckled through the pain, realising Simon must have talked to you about him at some point. How else would you have known about him at all? About his accent?

There’s was a small moment of silence before Soap got his shit together, looking up to properly scan your face. Simon went to get some ice for your neck as you stared at each other, thinking of what to say to a person you almost killed.

He turned to Simon instead as he pressed ice to your neck, watching your face turn into a frown at the contact.

“This definitely your lass then, eh?”

“This definitely Soap then, eh?” You mimicked his words with a smirk, a laugh falling out of both yours and Johnny’s lips as Simon looked at you both like you were insane. This could of been disastrous, but thankfully wasn’t, so you felt no harm in laughing a little about it.

“You’re both stupid, could of killed each other.”

“You guys left the door open, what was I meant to think?”

“She started strangling me!”

Simon signed as he looked at you, towering over your body as he held ice to your neck still, occasionally looking at how Soap was doing. Eventually you said you need to get changed out of your uniform, so Simon let you to upstairs before turning to sit beside Soap on another chair.

“How is it?”

“Shut et, L.t.”

“She handed your ass to you.”

He glanced at Ghost before looking back down, closing his eyes to try and forget the pain. He heard Simon stand, and felt him Pat his shoulder before his footsteps fates as he headed upstairs, undoubtedly to find you. He just accepted it and kept the ice on his groin, pleating it would all pass soon.

You hummed slightly when Simon’s hands wrapped around your waist, your head falling onto his shoulder. You’d not seen him in months, the occasional text was exchanged but neither of you really had time with constantly being in different time zones and moving countries. It was hard, but you managed.

“You’re home earlier than I thought?”

He hummed, finally taking his mask off with a groan. You spun in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him.

“Yeah mission ended early. The fucker can’t get home until tomorrow.”

You chuckled, pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss his lips for the first time in months.

“Giving him a place to stay is the least we can do after I almost killed him.”

“Rightly so. At least I know you can defend yourself, he’s a foot taller than you and you still managed to kick his ass.”

THE END

#simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon riley request #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod mwii #cod mw22 #ghost is babygirl

[torialefay]

this may be kind of an unusual question so feel free to ignore it, but i tend to make lots of links and associations of concepts/situations with music and stuff and so i'm curious, what are some songs that you'd pick to describe what it would be like to be in a relationship with chan? or some songs that suit his placements (for example, i think work song by hozier is peak scorpio venus devotion level haha)

okay i LOVE this question!!! (also currently in a hozier phase so i love that you brought up that song.) if you have any other recs, pls send them my way, but here's some that had come to mind:

✨🎶 Dating Channie Sounds Like 🎶✨

the friendship/relationship stage:

i don't think it's just me who thinks that chan is gonna have to know & be friends with someone before progressing to a romantic relationship. i think he could definitely pine over someone for a while and be too scared to say anything. and then if something DID happen between the two of you, you would have to hide it for a while. that's why i chose these 2 songs :)

• human - dodie ft tom walker ✨

• hush hush - the band camino✨

actual committed relationship phase:

• medicine - royal sugar ✨ this gives me such new-relationship, pent-up sexual tension vibes. this man would not be able to stop thinking ab you sexually when you first get together... 100%. sex w/ him is likely initially more fun, like in this song, but once he gets to KNOW you, it gets wayyyy deeper

• so in love - ed sheeran ✨ this one might be a cop-out bc chan has sung it multiple times on channie's room but i couldn't NOT put it in here.

• mess is mine - vance joy ✨ i'm sorry but the lyrics "this body is yours and mine" & "now your mess is mine" is so channie-coded to me. he is offering himself up to you. anything you want from him is yours & he will take on all of your hurt

• fire and the flood AND lay it on me - vance joy ✨ these were just so all-encompassing, i couldn't not include them.

• until you - ahi ✨ this song really throws me into a pre-debut channie love story tbh. bless his little heart 💔

• anointed - miguel AND religion - lana del rey ✨ these have the same vibe, so i'm including them together. when channie is truly in love with you, he won't fuck you- he fucking worships you. well, you worship each other in the bedroom. and i feel this a million times. he needs something deeper and he needs to feel consumed in it.

tough times/drifting apart/ fights:

sorry but i had to include a couple of angsty songs i could totally see playing out in a relationship w channie </3

• fleeting love - royal sugar ✨ i 100% see this song being about your struggles with a long distance relationship. not being able to work anything out, but also not being able to let them go. you just want him so badly

• berenstein - the band camino ✨ chan always talks about alternate universes, so i had to add this one in. the line "at another place in time, you were infinitely mine," it makes me think so much about if you were perfect with channie, and you both knew that... but you simply couldn't be with him because of his idol life. but you knew that somewhere out there in a parallel universe, he wasn't an idol, and you were together like you were meant to be :((((

bonus song:

this song reminds me SO MUCH of chris. the first time i heard it, i instantly thought of him. it isn't a love song by any means, it just makes me think of him && his life ❤️

• time's eyes - riley pearce ✨

if anyone has a song they automatically think of with channie, pls pls pls let me knowwww!!!

#bangchan stray kids #bang chan #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan soft thoughts #skz soft thoughts #skz fluff #bangchan fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines

[spectrerie]

Would you let me go? Even if I asked you to

Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader.

Requested by my awesome mutual @lululandd

Part One. ~ 3k words.

Simon meets a young woman on a night out with the 141 ft. Los Vaqueros. He's drawn to protect her and when she needs him, he makes a promise he's not sure he can keep. With one war over another begins, and his task: Protecting you, no matter what it takes.

POV alternates between Ghost and the Reader.

this is a stalker fic where Ghost watches over the reader and discovers that he's not the only one doing so. Eliminate the hostiles and fulfil his mission. Easy. Right?

TW: Stalking, kidnapping, murder, extreme depictions of violence, swearing and foul language, threats, minor character death. Possessive!Simon, Toxic!Simon

Additional parts to come, with additional warnings. This is just a general TW for the whole fic

“I swear lads, I swear I thought I was gonna die of laughter if he didn’t kill me first!” Drinks sloshed and laughter rang out around them as Gaz recounted some sage, albeit dodgy, advice Price had given him. 

A night out with the 141 and two of the friends they’d made along the way was long overdue. The weeks of blood, sweat, and smoke had taken its toll on them. Killing came with a a cost, and they paid it gladly. For their countries, for the world. For themselves. 

Life in battle was easy, everything came down to friend or foe. Friends were hard to make, and the latter easy to dispose of. Usually. Killing could be easy, if they let it be. If that made them bad people so be it, they’d be bad to keep the balance. But not tonight. 

Tonight donned in their civvies they occupied a corner booth of a hole in the wall pub, a town away from the barracks. It was their last night all together, one of their first nights all safe. Before the Cowboys went back home to fight another day. Before Soap went back to Scotland to see the country he missed dearly. And before Ghost and Gaz went back to their corners of England. Before Ghost crawled back to the barracks, to the only life he knew how to live. 

“Ah, will ye fuck off, ‘e didnae say that!  ‘ E’s been up te his oxters in work.” Soap barked out as he clutched his sides. The group waited with baited breath, stifling peals of laughter as they waited for Ghost’s response. 

“Christ, Johnny. In English?” The stoic blonde said from across the table. 

“Eh? D’ye no ken what I’m sayin’ L.t? That was bloody English.”  Soap whined back as he closed his bleary eyes. The first of the laughs began to eek out. When he opened them the blonde Lieutenant was staring back at him with his dark eyes. “Gaun'ae no dae that? That was bloody English! Fine. ’Oh emm gee, he did not say that. He has like totally been up to his armpits with work!’ THERE!” Johnny shouted back in a mock American accent. 

The group fell about themselves with laughter as Simon shook his head slowly. 

They needed this. This release. There’d been other nights for tears, for recalling the horrors they’d seen over the months, but not tonight. Tonight was only for good things. For accents coming out  too thick, for drinking too much knowing you were in safe company, for friendship. 

Ghost stood and pulled his dark cap lower, casting a shadow over his face. “Same orders, yeah?” He asked the group and he walked out of the booth. He had to good sense to leave the mask at home. Or so they thought. He had it folded in the inner pocket of his jacket, his armour against the world.

“I’ll have a Dom Perignon if you’re buying, whole bottle please.” Called out Gaz as Alejandro poured him another shot of earthy Tequila. 

Ghost shook his head and huffed out a low laugh, chasing tequila with pints. They were clever chaps, weren’t they?

As he made his way across the bar, the din of dozens of conversations hushed as he walked by, the packed room parting in his wake. He cut an intimidating figure. Six foot two, almost six four in this heavy dark boots. A myriad of faded scars dusting his jaw and hands, the only part of him easily visible. The brightest thing about him was his blonde hair, neatly tucked away from prying eyes. He didn’t need the mask tonight. His crew knew his face, and no one in the pub could bring themselves to look at it, averting their eyes sheepishly as he moved by them. At most people glance up at the top of his head in awe, surveying the space he took up with his sheer bulk and height. He didn’t need to be Ghost. Not here.

He placed a hand on the bar and slid in, eliciting no complaints from the other patrons. What could they have said? Move? That’d be the day. 

— — — 

“So you’re not going crack a smile, baby? I thought that was a pretty good one.” The drunken lout beside you laughed in your face, the smell of hops, stale cigarettes and chips blowing at you. 

“Ha. Ha.” You said dryly. Turning your attention to the bartender trying to get drinks for you and your ever-late friend. You felt an overly warm, sticky hand slide around your waist, tugging you back towards him. “Alright then, you tell me a joke, if I’m no good at ‘em.” 

“I’d rather not, sorry.” You said with a terse smile, eyes drifting back to the bartender hoping to catch his eye. 

“Okay, okay, let’s play a new game if you don’t like jokes. If I guess your name you buy me a pint,  but if you tell me now I’ll buy you one.” He winked at you, or rather he tried to. 

“How about I tell you and you go away?” You asked, before barking out your name and turning away, though his grip on you tightened.  

“Oi, mate. Two Coronas, three lagers. Whatever’s easy, yeah?” 

A low voice beside you called out to the bartender you’d been playing a one sided game of cat and mouse with. 

“Is Carling alright?” The bartender’s attention went straight to the owner of the voice beside you, as did yours. You were about to tell him you’d been here first, as you looked up and you were met  not with a face, but the middle of a wide set of shoulders. Was this a man or a mountain?

“Excuse m-“ craning your neck up you caught a glimpse of a face and your protests died on your lips. The giant was handsome. In a rugged, cold sort of way, but handsome nonetheless. He cast a glance in your direction that turned cold quickly. All the heat of your body pooled at the bottom of your stomach, you didn’t even notice the arm around your waist had dropped immediately. 

“Hmm?” He grumbled in way of a prompt. 

“Uhh, I was— I was just going to say I’ve been waiting.” 

“I don’t know you.” He said curtly. A normal person would ask ‘do I know you?’, or rather a normal person would understand basic bar etiquette. Though it seemed this man had no need for niceties. 

“Well no, I was waiting to order my drinks. Didn’t anyone teach you any manners?” You said, letting go of your decorum. Two could play at this game. You’d had enough of men thinking they could have whatever they wanted.

“What?” He said, turning away from the bartender. Your bravado dissipated as quickly as you’d found it. You felt your eyes grow round in shock and a heat creep up your neck to your face. 

“I just-“ your sentence was cut off by a low laugh from him as he said “What, as in what were you going to order?” 

“Ah… just two ciders, sorry.” Fuck. Where had all your confidence gone, he wasn’t going to hit you for teaching him manners. 

His gaze grew cold again, well maybe he was. 

“You let your girl do all the talking, do you?” He said, seemingly to the man who’d been pestering you for the better part of your evening thus far. 

“I’m not his anything.” You said before the man behind you had a chance to speak. 

The handsome one turned away from you again, “And two ciders, cheers.” He said to the bartender. When the man behind the bar asked what sort he angled himself back to you again, you sheepishly pointed to the tap of your choosing and said your thanks quietly. 

You heard your name from the pest behind you and ignored it, watching the bartender pull your pints along with those of the only person at the bar you had any interest in. 

“Fine then, be a bitch.” The man huffed and walked away, you only knew because your new companion’s eyes watched him closely as he left. Tracking him through the crowd. Something about him made your skin tingle. Made the hairs on your body stand. There was an edge to him that scared you.

“Sorry about him” you said at the same time, eliciting a laugh from you both. 

“So, you planning on neckin’ two pints or are you waiting on someone?”  He asked as he slid his card over to the barman. 

“Oh, no you don’t have to pay for these. Please, let me ge-“ 

“Think of them as payment, for tonight's lesson. Anyway, are you alone?” 

“Oh, I’m just waiting on a friend.” You shook you head, confused. “Wait. What lesson?” 

He laughed, tucking his card back into his pocket, arranging his three pint glasses into a triangle, then balancing the two bottles on their rims. He’d never be able to carry these back to his table, at least not without spilling half their contents.

“In manners,” he said with a wink before grasping the drinks in his big hands and slipping back into the flow of the crowd, disappearing like a ghost. 

— — — 

“Bloody took you long enough, L.t” Gaz crowed, clearly they’d need less pints and a few glasses of water to offset all the tequila they’d drunk in Simon’s absence. 

“Did you go to brew la cheve, Ghost?” Rudy chimed in, emboldened by the alcohol. 

Ghost huffed and set the full drinks down deftly. “Shut up and drink.” He didn’t have to tell them twice. 

The conversation and alcohol flowed easily as the boys cleansed themselves of the stresses of war. Minutes rolled into hours and their raucous laughs drew a few sidelong glances to their table, they couldn’t care less. 

“Right,” Garrick said as he stood, clapping his hands together and rubbing them mischievously. “I’d murder a kebab right now. Have you lads had kebabs before?” He asked their Mexican companions. Soap stood and stretched, the promise of a trip to the chippers rousing him from his stupor. “Not a kebab on a stick, like… with lamb and cabbage and sauce, y’know. A kebab.” he chimed in, clapping Gaz on the back for his enlightened suggestion. Alejandro and Rudy shook their heads with a laugh, “teach us the British way, amigos. Where do we get this ‘kebab’?” Rudy asked as he and the other two men stood from the table. 

The pros and cons of a kebab after a night out were being discussed as though life’s meaning could be deciphered after one drunken bite. As Soap and Gaz evangelised a groggy ‘no!’ caught Simon’s attention. The quiet pleads were mixed with a name that was new, yet familiar. 

“One second, lads,” he said as he moved ahead of the group, instinctively making his way towards the source of the disquieting feeling growing in his chest. Something was wrong, very very wrong. 

“No, I don’t— I want to go. I don’t— I’m too tired. I want—no,” the girl from the bar was pulling against the grip of the man who’d ran with his tail between his legs at the first sign of confrontation. Simon didn’t have to listen to the young woman’s garbled sentences to know this shouldn’t be happening. She didn’t know him. She didn’t trust him. Neither did he. The would be assailant kept muttering her name and steering her towards the door as she shook her head and kept glancing behind her. 

“Oi. Is there a problem, mate?” Simon asked, as his friends caught up with him. The man blanched as he looked up at Simon, growing quiet as the girl's protests got louder, drawing the attention of the few patrons left in the pub. 

“She’s wasted, I’m just trying to get her home,” a shaky laugh punctuated the lie. 

“I’m sure. But she doesn’t know you.” Simon pushed the mans shoulder, sending him two steps back and giving the girl the chance to shake him off. 

“She… her friend knows me, he told me to get her home. Right? David,” he reached out to the girl in an attempt to get her attention. The look in Simon’s eyes told him that wasn’t a smart move. “Hey, tell them that David told me to-” before the sentence could end Soap spoke up, putting himself between Simon and the man, as Simon stepped closer. Whether this David existed or not didn’t matter, the Lieutenant was ready to separate the man’s lying head from his body. A scene was ill advised, especially if the police ended up getting involved. 

“Alright,” Soap said, he reigned in his brogue as best he could, “let’s not put words in anyone’s mouth.” He began trying to deescalate the situation, much to Simon’s irritation. The girl looked up at him and he watched as she took in his face and something dawned on her. 

“Ah, manners,” she said, mumbling to herself as she drew nearer to him. Simon couldn’t help but soften at that, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her protectively. She’s been full of fire at the bar, a small part of him felt more sad than angry at the situation she found herself in. Maybe he should have stayed with her, at least until her friend came. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Can you tell me your friends name, or what they look like? Maybe we can find-”

“The ghost with manners” she said weakly as she pressed her head against his chest, body going slack, knees buckling beneath her. Simon’s arms reached around her, his grip like a vice pressing her closer to him. The Ghost. 

Ghost. How could she know that name?

He clung to her weak frame like a raft on a rocky sea. His fingers digging into the soft flesh of her as they both spiralled. 

— — — 

Weak pleads and careful promises swirled behind you, you couldn't hear them. Not really. Every fibre of your being was fixed on the man holding you up. The ghost from the bar with the big hands and scary eyes. But he wasn’t scary now, not anymore. Not to you. 

“Hey,” his deep voice rang out above the world around you, though he spoke to you gently. A whisper that contained the roar of a distant sea. Who? Who was he? 

“Simon, my name’s Simon.” 

Shit. Had you said that out loud? Why couldn’t you tell? Why couldn’t you stand? You tried to take a shaky step back, to get free. To get a better look at this ‘Simon’, but your legs wouldn’t work, the muscles felt heavy and useless. How were you still standing, why couldn’t you remember how you’d gotten here? 

You and David had been drinking, laughing. He’d gone to the bathroom. Said he’s meet you at the door and you’d get a taxi home together. Then the room began to slip away.  A tide pulled you to the door. Sticky hands, a shake voice, and your name over and over again as you were pulled away.  You’d wanted to fight but your body wouldn’t let you. You wanted to scream but your voice wouldn’t work right, your words didn’t fit together. The last few minutes became a puzzle somehow, and it terrified you.

Then Simon. 

Like some vengeful angel, he appeared from nowhere. Pulling you close, holding you up though you felt as heavy as a star. 

“Please, Simon… Simon,” you muttered, not sure whether he could hear you or if you were speaking in your mind again. Though a part of you felt like he could hear everything in there too. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ve got you.” 

Suddenly you were warm and weightless, drifting through the cold air. Fear beat in your chest, thumping against your ribs like a molten ball. You were going to die. You were certain. Your stomach rolled at the realisation. 

“You’re not going to die, pet. You’re just a bit poorly now. But I’ve got you.” 

His voice was closer now, warm lips pressed against your ear as he spoke into your mind. You wanted to believe him, so badly. You wanted to believe it was true. 

“It is. I won’t let you die. I swear.” 

“Don’t you let— don’t let me down. Are you gonna drop me?” please don't, Simon. Please. 

“No, never.”

Simon.  

Your ghostly Simon. The word shone bright in your foggy mind. “Never— don't hurt me.” 

Something deep in you told you he couldn't.

— — — 

The nurse at the desk was asking all the wrong questions. Simon could guess the answers she wanted, he could form a loose timeline in his mind. A version of events that made sense. But one thing was certain, he’d have to embellish the truth to get the right result. Civilian life was easier in someways, harder in others. 

He gave her a name, gave an approximation of an age but he wouldn’t be allowed to stay with you unless he started filling in the blank spaces. He’d made a promise to you, and he’d keep it. 

“I need a surname for the intake form, sir. Do you actually know this young lady?” 

He sighed. He wasn’t the villain here. He knew how it looked, five men bringing a clearly intoxicated girl into the ER was dodgy. But he wasn’t the villain. 

“Yeah, I already said that. Look, she needs help, and I have to stay with her, she’ll be looking for me when she wakes up.” 

“I understand that sir, but only family are allowed to stay with patients overnight. And you still haven’t given me her—“

Surname and relationship to him. Yeah, because he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to be here, all night if it took that long. He had to be there when you woke up, so he could fulfil his promise. So you'd know you were safe.

“Riley. It’s Riley.” 

“And you’re family?” 

Was he?

“Yes, of course.” 

Now he was.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #stalker fic #tw stalking #tw possessive behavior #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley requests #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost imagine #ghost x female reader

[ineylesian]

FEATURES | ALL CALL OF DUTY SERIES, FICS, AND DRABBLES

CHARACTERS INCLUDED | SIMON “GHOST” RILEY, KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK, PHILLIP GRAVES (to be continued)

— ARQHMS FALL/ KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

— ARQHMS ‘TIS THE SEASON 22 MASTERLIST

— ARQHMS 1K EVENT MASTERLIST

— CODENAME: FANGS (FT. SIMON “GHOST” RILEY & PHILLIP GRAVES)

— SLEEPING HCS (FT. TSF, KÖNIG, & GRAVES)

— “ME, OR HIM?”

WORD COUNT | 4k+

WARNINGS | smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, fingering, cunnilingus, jealous sex, implied graves x reader, biting, scratching, canon typical violence

— NO LEAF CLOVER (a cont. of “me, or him?”)

WORD COUNT | 8k

WARNINGS | angst, smut, canon typical violence, vaginal fingering, hard overstimulation, finger fucking, cum eating, implied graves x reader, biting, scratching, clothed sex, grinding, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, thigh fucking

— SIMON RILEY IS ARROGANT

— RESTEZ AVEC MOI, LA NUIT CHANTE.

WARNINGS | mentions of anxiety and panic attacks

— GIRLDAD! GHOST HCS

— WALK AWAY FROM THE SUN

WORD COUNT | 3k

WARNINGS | canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, mentions of weapons, arguments, mentions of trauma.

— BURY ME WITH ROSES

WORD COUNT | 1.3k

WARNINGS | angst, character death, mentions of weapons and violence, mentions of trauma and abuse

— INEXPERIENCED GHOST

WARNINGS | NSFW content

— LINGER

WORD COUNT | 1.2k

WARNINGS | petnames (lovie, dove)

— A MAN STARVED

WARNINGS | cum eating, oral (f. rec), very slight dumbification

— YOU’RE A COMFORTABLE LIAR, SIMON

WORD COUNT | 2k+

WARNINGS | slight gore, mentions and use of weapons

— SEEN A GHOST?

WORD COUNT | 2k+

WARNINGS | smut, pre-established relationship, vaginal sex, handjobs, makeup sex, just a lil overstimulation, clothed sex

— MY FRIEND IN MISERY

WORD COUNT | 7k+

WARNINGS | smut, angst, brief descriptions of torture, finger fucking, unprotected p in v, slight oral asphyxiation, biting, hair pulling, semi clothed sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, blood kink (kinda)

— $TING

WORD COUNT | not counted

WARNINGS | smut, light choking, depictions of an unhealthy relationship, finger fucking

— DISPOSABLE YOU

WORD COUNT | 5.7k

WARNINGS | angst, canon typical violence, hurt, no comfort, smut, shower sex, crying/heavy shame, biting, scratching, wall sex, unprotected p in v.

— MOTION

WORD COUNT | 616

WARNINGS | pwop, handjobs (obv), kinda sub! graves, smut in a closet, petnames (sugar, sweetheart.)

— WOULDN’T EVER WANNA LOSE YOU

WORD COUNT | drabble, not counted

WARNINGS | mentions of injury, very slight suggestive content

#eleysiacalling #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #mwii #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mwii #masterlist #ghost smut #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon riley smut

[riley-soot]

oh yeah :O i forgot i had these, pics of me in my suit esque outfit ft. riley hands :D

my friend liked them so why not post them here :D

would love to have a lee in my arms to tease with these handsssss

#ticklish #tickling community #ler mood #hand kink

[deeptrashwitch]

*During a insomia night, inside Witch's mind*

So, who are you again?

A fictional girl

Yeah well, it doesn't help me to understand

Start writing and you'll figure it out

...I need to sleep, I'll lead with you tomorrow

*ends up writing (and even doing the picrew) at midnight to at least keep the idea out of her mind for a while*

Yeah...the thing below just appeared while I was trying to sleep, and now I'm writing about her. It's a new OC, and she'll be Ghost's civilian girlfriend. And no, she has nothing to do with my main timeline, so there won't be anything related to her on my post about the Specters.

I'll leave this programed and then go to sleep. See ya!

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

OC: Samantha "Sam" Cohen

Nationality: American

Age: 34

Date of birth: 15th january 1990 - Richmond (U.S.A.)

Residence: Washington D.C

Profession: Marketing director

Height: 1.72 m/ 5"7' ft

Weight: 70 kg

Blood type: A+

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationships

Simon "Ghost" Riley (boyfriend)

Mike Cohen (older brother)

Lily Cohen nee Dupont (sister-in-law)

Valerie Cohen (niece)

William Cohen (nephew)

David Cooper (friend)

Irene Sayre (friend)

Jayden/Cassandra Fisher (friend

Trivia

-Her main hobby is make flower arrangements, using many type of flowers. Sometimes Simon helps her, and he even has learned how to do some crowns.

-She loves cuddles and always hugs Simon when they are on their bed, she even plays with his hair when they are looking a movie. And she's the only one who'll ever see Simon all lovey-dovey and clingy, so anytime people says he's cold, scary or things like that, she cackles internally.

-When they visit her brother, she always plays with her nephew and niece while the rest talk calmly.

-She's the second oldest on the group, only Cassandra/Jayden is older than her. Irene and David always mock them because of it, but they love the little brats anyway.

-She tends to be explosive, it can be when she's excited or pissed off. Her reactions are usually effusive (read as: laughter when she's happy and ugly cry shen she's sad), except when she's furious (if she ignores you, then you really fucked it up).

Random quote

"Are you saying that Ghost is scary and cruel? That Ghost? If...you say so, I guess" -talking with a random rookie (who got punished later by said Lieutenant)

When and how met their partner?

She met Simon through a dates app, to be honest she was intrigued because his profile just said basic things (no likes, hobbies and what not) and his photo was him with the baclava. They went to the African Art National Museum and walked for a while in silence, until, when they saw an object from the expo, Ghost commented a non-classified anecdote about a mission in Africa where he learned a bit about their ancient cultures. It called Sam's attention, and they started a conversation, more like Sam asked many things and Ghost answered.

Also, she wasn't exactly stingy with the compliments, admired to find out thar her date knew such interest things. Then she found out about Simon's shyness when it comes to compliments outside of work, because he was blushed and a bit nervous down the mask he was using (he'll deny it all his life, tho). And when the date finished, she was the one to ask him for a second date the next time he had a free day, to which he happily agreed.

And from there, it's history as well.

#witch moment #ocs #oc #simon riley x reader #sorry i didn't put much info #i'm tired as i write this #i'll give her more story soon #i promise

[bcofl0ve]

2022-23 Awards Season Master Post #2 The Golden Globes

Where: Beverly Hills, California. January 10th, 2023

In Attendance: Austin, Austin’s sister Ashley, Baz, Catherine, Priscilla, Lisa Marie and Jerry Schilling.

note: this is pretty thorough but i will add things as they come out so be sure to check back tonight/tomorrow etc!

all hq photos (s/o to abutlernews for maintaining this website!)

austin on the carpet getty videos #1, #2 and #3

ashley being interviewed (video)

austin talking to variety (video)

austin talking to access hollywood (video)

austin talking to laverne cox (video)

austin turning around to go back and kiss a reporter on the cheek ft. lisa, jerry and ashley (video 😭🫶🏼)

austin reading a thirst tweet (video)

austin talking to his tiktok impersonator (video)

austin talking to andrew garfield (video)

austin talking to steven spielberg (video)

austin and ashley with their friend jason kennedy (video)

austin, ashley, lisa marie and jerry schilling (video)

austin and lisa ET interview snippet (video)

austin red carpet snippet (video)

baz interview snippet (video)

priscilla ET interview (video)

priscilla extra tv interview (video)

austin carpet snippet #2 (video)

austin and salma hayek on the carpet (video)

austin and salma on the carpet snippet (video)

kate girlbossing austin down the carpet (video)

kate girlbossing austin down the carpet pt. 2 (video)

austin carpet snippet #3 (video)

austin carpet snippet #4 ft very direct eye contact (video)

austin carpet snippet #5 (video)

austin carpet snippet #6 ft more eye contact (video)

baz and catherine hollywood reporter interview (video)

cute moment btwn austin, kate and ashley (video)

austin with a fan/reporter (photo)

austin with a fan/reporter (selfie)

austin in the back of a girls tiktok (video)

cute reel of catherine’s look (video)

AUSTIN’S WIN AND ACCEPTANCE SPEECH!!!!! (video)

“my boy, my boy” elvis comparison (video)

austin walking backstage after his win (video)

austin talking to letitia wright after his win (video)

getty video of austin with his trophy

greg williams photo of austin with his trophy

golden globes tiktok of austin with his trophy (🔥)

austin’s backstage q&a after his win (video)

austin’s backstage interview after his win (video)

ashley tisdale’s instagram story (video)

austin’s post win ET interview (video)

austin’s post win extra tv interview (video)

austin’s post win access hollywood interview (video)

polly bennett’s congratulations post (video)

adam dunn’s congratulations post (photo)

hugh stewart’s congratulations post (photo)

riley’s instagram story (photo)

✨ AFTER PARTY ISH ✨

austin and kaia smooching and being cute (video)

austin and k arriving to the party ft. kaia in his jacket (photos)

more photos of them arriving

kaia with a fan (photo)

austin and k leaving the afterparty (photos)

austin and k in the car leaving (photos)

darren criss popping into the car like a jack in the box (photos)

austin and k leaving the afterparty (video)

daily mail article abt austin and kaia

#gossip time with mollie #mollie’s masterposts #austin butler #kaia gerber #elvis movie #baz luhrmann #baz luhrmann elvis #catherine martin #priscilla presley #lisa marie presley #jerry schilling #film #the golden globes #golden globes #elvis 2022

[txemrn]

Pour Two Glasses

Chapter 5: "... Wake Me Up When It's Over..."

Need to catch up? Masterlist

✨ Have you checked out this teaser video yet? Pour Two Glasses Teaser✨

Word Count: 3935 (+/-)

Series Synopsis:In the midst of a violent political war, Queen Riley Rys’s life is dismantled overnight, forcing her to flee Cordonia to live in hiding as a commoner with a loyal, best friend

Series Song Inspo: “Pour Two Glasses” by the Movielife

Chapter Song Inspo: "Wake Me Up" by Tommee Profitt ft. Fleurie (Avicii cover)

Series Warnings: 🔞 For Mature Audiences Only 🔞angst; profanity; major character death; grief and mental health discussion; discussion of violence & war; alcohol use; NSFW material

A/N: Characters and some plot references belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Big projects like this often takes a village of cheerleaders, barnstormers, listeners and readers. I am so blessed to have such a supportive village--huge thanks to y'all for making this story come to life! This was not beta'd, so please excuse my errors.

A/N 2: It's been a while, so how about a quick review? *clears throat* Previously on Pour Two Glasses... Sensing her need to be close to her husband, Drake coordinates for Riley to sleep each night of Liam's Royal Wake next to his closed casket; he also gives her a necklace to wear that holds Liam's wedding ring and signet ring; Riley and Drake have a heart-to-heart, which included the intimate story of the promise Liam and Riley made to each other: a promise to "pour two glasses"; after the funeral, a member of the 'Les Combattants de la Liberté' (the same coups that shot down Liam's plane) opens fire during Liam's funeral procession in an attempt to assassinate the queen. Despite Drake's efforts, Riley is shot.

~🖤~

"Ahhh! Fuck!" Drake grimaces, holding pressure to his left arm as blood seeps violently from his fresh bullet wound. Sucking in a sharp breath from the pain, he glances to his right where he had pushed Riley down, and hopefully out of the way.

Her body lies completely still as a pool of deep rouge grows from under her petite, lifeless frame.

"Brooks?" He stretches his neck in hopes of a glimpse of her face, but the abrupt shock of sharp torment in his shoulder knocks the air from his lungs. Anxiously panting, he glances back at Riley, realizing she remains motionless to the sound of her name. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Riley!” He frantically searches for a way to get closer to her. He peers at his injured shoulder and his crimson-stained fingers, weighing the options that don't exist on borrowed time that has already expired.

He grabs the collar of his shirt, bunching up the material in his palm before biting down on it. He rolls onto his stomach, his screams of torment muffled into his makeshift gag as he gnashes his teeth. With his good arm, he army-crawls on his side, pulling himself across the pavement with his elbow. The balls of his feet push to propel him, all the while he moans in agony.

His body finally gives out from the misery. "Brooks? Brooks?" He gruffly pants. He lays flat on the ground, reaching to her sprawled out hand with his unaffected arm. He nudges against her skin, but she doesn't move. His fingers find her wrist; he feels a weak, slow pulse.

"Goddammit!" Drake cries out in pain as he sits himself up. "No–no–no… Riley!" Groaning in anguish, he single-handedly pulls her body to himself, propping her head up in his lap. He tenderly peels the blood-drenched wisps off of her cheeks and forehead. Her head suddenly lolls back, her neck extended across his thigh with her pale lips agape. "Riley!" Tears flood his eyes, "No…" Surveying her body, he notices two bullet wounds to her left shoulder near her chest. 

Near her heart.

Drake turns to the other guards that are tending to a few critically wounded people in the otherwise desolate courtyard. "We need help over here!" He cradles Riley's head as he watches the color drain from her face. "Don't do this, Brooks,” he growls, “Don't you dare fucking do this.” He sobs angrily, gripping firmly to the fabric of her dress. "You can't leave me, too…"

------

A crisp gentle breeze catches her brunette waves in a delicate waltz of silk and sunshine. The softness of the evergreen grass tickles her toes as she ventures through the fragrant blooms. Somewhere amongst the fresh harvest of Cordonian rubies, a handsome melody echoes across the meadow, a deep baritone that Riley instantly recognizes.

“Liam?” Her steps begin to quicken as she searches behind the bark and the bend. “Liam?” Her voice is earnest and hungry as her widened, ocean-blue eyes survey the area for even just a glimpse of his beauty. She grips the sides of her skirt, lifting the hem to her hips as her feet become more swift amongst the uniform rows of bountiful trees.

As she approaches a knoll, a large shadow grants her body brevity from the warm sun. She brings a hand to her forehead, shielding the brightness from her eyes. She strains to make out the broad shapes and chiseled lines of the man standing before her, but she knows it's him. His eyes shimmer with the brilliance of the Mediterranean, his skin like the soft sands of Nissi.

“My love,” he smiles endearingly at her; he cups two filled wine flutes in one large hand as he extends his arm out towards her, his open palm ready to take her into his arms.

“My king,” she breathes, her heart swelling at the very presence of him. She drops her skirt. She draws closer to him as a smile brightly bubbles across her lips. It’s him; it’s really him.

But as their fingertips almost touch, Riley missteps. She trips over an imperfection in the terrain as she falls to her knees, her hands catching her on the ground. As she looks back to her husband, he is gone.

“No,” she whispers as she frantically scours the rolling hills around her. Empty. Not a single trace of life. Riley is alone. “No–no–no… Liam?”  She spins wildly around, searching for him. But suddenly, she hears an ear-piercing crackle like thunder.

And then another. 

A searing pain abruptly burns deep into her shoulder and chest, knocking her off her feet. The impact of the fall robs her of the air in her lungs. In a state of panic, she begins gasping for air, but the rise and fall of her chest makes her whimper, tears collecting in her eyes. 

"Liam?" She tries to scream, but can only muster a rough whisper. "Someone? Please?"

Riley tries to sit up, but an intense scorch of discomfort stuns her to lay back amongst the long blades of grass. Her mouth falls open from the sensation, but only silent sobs pour from her lips.

With a trembling hand, she carefully touches her fingertips to the painful area of her chest. Biting her lip to stifle her screams, she feels a thick oozing of warm fluid escaping her shoulder, flowing between her fingertips.

Blood.

"Help," she strains, but her words falter as her eyelids fall heavier with each blink. 

She hugs her body with her other arm as the breeze suddenly feels frigid against her pale skin. Her breathing becomes more rapid, each inhale growing laborious, more challenging than the last.

'Anyone?' Riley mouths as she grows still. The light in her eyes falls dim, her lashes fluttering as they begin to close.

Stillness.

Darkness.

Suddenly a large, calloused hand squeezes tightly to her petite weak fingers.

"Brooks," a deep, trembling whisper calls to her, "it–it's going to be okay, baby. Hang in there." A sense of relief rushes over her; hearing the familiar gritty voice comforts her, grounding her back with reality.

Riley can hear a soft shrill of metal on metal from squeaky wheels underneath her. She feels a light current of air swishing across her body as if she is being moved rapidly. The pungent smell of medical-grade antiseptic with the slight undertone of decay hits her nostrils, reminding her instantly of the night she had to identify her husband’s remains.

She tries to speak, but her mouth refuses to move; even her whimpers fall silent, unable to get anyone’s attention. She tries to grip onto the hand that is holding her fingers, but despite her effort, nothing moves.

As she relaxes her body, an excruciating pain suddenly penetrates through her torso, an inexplicable affliction of torment tearing through every last nerve, leaving her senseless, breathless, motionless.

An abrupt alarm of rapid analog chimes begins to whistle.

"Heart rate 152. We need to move, people…"

Riley's eyes flicker open to blurred fluorescent lights, flashing obnoxiously into her field of vision. She hears a twisted garble of concerned voices around her, but can barely make out the faces of the strangers surrounding her.  

"Hang another liter of NS. Go ahead and draw up fifty of hydromorphone…"

"...BP 88/42…"

"... prep OR six…"

"... order four units of O neg…"

The swift movements around her makes her stomach turn as the searing discomfort ravages throughout her chest. She grimaces, her eyelids shutting at the furrow of her brows.

Suddenly, she feels a pinch, like a tiny sharp prick of pressure pushed into the swell of her thigh.  A warming sensation follows, infiltrating through the area before finally swimming briskly through her body.

"Hydromorphone with Phenergan 25 in…"

The room begins to swirl into nothingness, the chatter falling into silence. Her hand falls limp, no longer able to feel Drake's tight grip on her fingertips. No more background noise; no more strange smells. Like falling into the deep end of the ocean, a single, high-pitched shrill rings incessantly in Riley's ears as she flails her arms and legs into the blackness. She finally clenches her eyes shut, terrified of the loneliness, terrified of the struggle, terrified of the emptiness.

Stillness.

Darkness.

Until a warm glow grazes her skin.

A gentle caress of her cheek leads to a tender stroke of a thumb across her full bottom lip.

Riley's eyes cautiously flit open.

And she gasps.

"Liam?"

------

"Sir, this is as far as you can go."

Though he understands hospital safety protocols, Drake scoffs as Riley's hand is pulled away from his grasp. An abrupt loneliness tugs at his heart as he watches the gurney rapidly wheel down the white sterile hallway. As his left arm hangs limp, Drake drags his fingers down his face, swallowing a sob. Will this be his last memory of her alive?

He feels his chest begin to dramatically rise and fall, his breathing becoming quicker as his expression contorts into remorseful anger. He was supposed to protect her. He promised her–shit, he promised Liam that he would look after her, and now Riley is fighting for her life.

As Drake's jaw trembles, a petite hand tenderly pats his unaffected shoulder. He jerks around to find a familiar raised eyebrow, her piercing jades sympathizing instantly with his downcast stare. “Liv,” he whispers, a crooked smile flashing across his lips as his face twists with emotions. “You’re… here. You’re… you're okay,” he chuckles into a choked cry.

Noticing the sincerity of his tone, Olivia Nevrakis’s typical stone-cold presence melts into something more human and warm.  She smirks, holding her arms outstretched. "Come here, big guy," she snickers, waving him into her embrace. “You know that even rogue militant coups can’t get rid of me that easily.” The longtime friends squeeze each other more snuggly; though they might not always see eye-to-eye, they silently gesture in agreement that life is better together.

“Christ on a Kraken! Riley is never going to believe this.”

Drake turns towards the cheerful, flamboyant voice. He casually tosses his head to the side, his chestnut fringe cascading out of his field of vision. The corners of his mouth curl, grateful to see the youngest Beaumont brother alive and well with no obvious injuries.  

"Hey, man," Drake reaches out to take Maxwell's hand, pulling him into a brotherly embrace.

"We were so worried. I thought you were dead," his breath hitches in his chest, "and–and Riley…" The young lord succumbs to his tears, unable to speak. Drake endearingly pats his friend on the back as he flashes a knowing look to Olivia.

"I'm fine, Max," Drake mutters, signaling for him to let go. 

"Have you even been seen by a doctor yet?" Maxwell looks at the crimson gore, dried across the guard's once pristinely pressed suit.

"Not yet. I–" he freezes as he peers down the now empty corridor, the last place he saw her, the last place he touched her. The last place he felt her life in his own hands. A large lump forms in his throat as the horrific scene plays in his head.

The definitive cocking of the chamber of a glock; the smell of smoke and blood in the air; the unraveling of fearful screams of hopeless onlookers… 

"Riley! Look out!"

He tried to shield her; he tried to protect her. He tried to save her.

Was he too late?

The queen's guard shakes his head, staggering away from his friends, willing the sting of his tears away. He already lost his very best friend almost a month ago; he can't lose Liam's wife, too.

"She's strong, Walker–"  Drake stops in his tracks, turning to the fiery red head that fell into step with him walking down the hallway. He leans up against the wall, shoving a hand in his pocket as his head falls forward in anguish.

"I just… I feel so fucking guilty, ya know?” he mutters under his breath. “I was supposed to be there for Liam–I should’ve been there with him, and Riley?" He looks away, blinking away tears. “It should’ve been me–"

"No," Olivia interjects sternly. "Don't go there. You are not responsible for his death. And Riley?”  She takes Drake’s face between her palms, commanding his attention to focus on her words. "She will survive this–'

"I should've been there–"

"And you were," she interrupts. "Drake, she would've been killed if you hadn't intervened when you had."

"You saved her life, man," Maxwell tearfully steps forward, holding out a cup of coffee for the guard. "She's been through a hell of a lot worse." They all chuckle knowingly with one another. "She's going to survive this," Maxwell states encouragingly as he dabs away his tears.

Olivia nods in solidarity, looking towards Drake. "She will."

Drake stares at his styrofoam coffee cup before bringing it to his lips. "She has to," he breathes before taking a sip.

"Cmon, buddy," Maxwell's mouth begins to curl as he slaps Drake on his wounded shoulder. "Let's get you checked out–"

"Ow!" Drake roars, "Limp dick motherfffff–!" Drake bites his tongue as he shields his arm.

"Oh, there he is," Olivia snickers to herself, taking a seat in the waiting room. "I was concerned he left his balls next to his snuff in the back pocket of his Wranglers."

—---

Tangled in sheets of silk, Riley cradles Liam's head against her bare chest. He kisses tender pecks along her velveteen skin, her fingers mindlessly combing through his golden waves. 

Coming down from their euphoric bliss of making love, the gentle warmth of intimacy saturates the air. A soft hum escapes Riley's lungs as she is overwhelmed with the desire to cry streams of joy. To be at peace again. To feel whole again. To be herself again.

This is perfect. Too perfect. Riley had craved for weeks now to have just one more moment, one more breath with her beloved. And now…

Is this really happening? 

She presses her lips into his disheveled, blond hair, breathing in his intoxicating scent. His fingertips graze across her shoulders and down the slope of her full breast, his familiar touch igniting a scattering of goosebumps across her body. But when Liam looks up at her with his hungry gaze, his crystal blue stare that rivals the Northern Lights, relief floods her senses.

I'm home.

Biting her bottom lip, Riley guides her husband up her body until he's lying face-to-face with her, their longing stares never breaking from one another. She delicately traces the angles of his jaw, the contours of his neck until finally resting her palms in the scatter of hair on his chest.   

She rests her head against his body, her fingers lacing with his.

"Liam," she exhales as she listens to the rhythmic pulse of his heart. "I've missed you." Her words softly shudder against her stifled sobs, tears coursing down the curve of her nose. She nuzzles her forehead into him, wanting to be closer, deeper with him, thirsty to drink every last drop of him.

"Please tell me this is it," she flutters her eyes close, his large hands draped across her back. "Please tell me this is where our forever starts."

Feeling his piercing stare on her, Riley instantly meets his mouth in a searing kiss. She slips her tongue between his full lips as the passion continues to burn between them. 

Riley guides him to lay on his back, straddling his broad physique as their tongues continue to caress in steady pulses. She nips at him, coaxing for more.  Gently rocking her hips, Riley sits up on her husband, his length pushing against her slick folds. Taking his large, rugged hands in hers, they cup her peaking breasts, fondling them together.

"I love you," Riley moans into the darkness as her desire builds for her husband once more. 

But then she stops.

She looks back to Liam's handsome face. And a sudden chill runs down her back.

He didn't say, 'I love you'...

"Love," Riley grips one of his hands, bringing it to her lips to kiss. "Is this okay? Are–are you okay?"

He doesn't answer.

An uncomfortable coldness floods her veins as a familiar burning sensation grows in her lower left shoulder.

"Liam?" She shakes his body. "Liam baby, please," her eyes begin to water, "please talk to me." 

Riley glances around the dark room; it looks like their royal quarters, but deep in her heart, she abruptly knows she's far from home. 

And far from Liam.

And like an old film reel, the fantasy around her begins to burn away, slowly at first as a blinding light pierces through the darkness.

"This… this isn't real, is it?" She trembles, bringing his hand to her heart. "Please, baby…" the room becomes stifling as Riley begins to gasp for air, her husband’s touch nothing but a phantom pain. "Please don't leave me again…"

Suddenly, Riley feels like she's choking as a soreness forms promptly in her throat.

"That's it, your majesty," the assured voice of a stranger calls out to her. "We're done with your surgery. Take some nice big breaths for us."

Riley barely peeks through her heavy eyelids, but her stormy blues are instantly met with the brazen shine of surgical spotlights. And she grimaces, discomfort etching across her delicate features.

"Good job. Take another breath."

The queen can feel something weighted and quite warm being folded across her frigid body. Suddenly, she feels soft fabric engulfing her toes, then her feet.

Where am I?

"Let's get you some Fentanyl and the rest of your Zofran for the ride, your majesty."

Abruptly to her arm, she feels a twinge of heat expanding in her veins, traveling first to her shoulder before dispersing across her body. The panic that was building in her nerves subsides as she relaxes into a subtle snore. And then into nothingness all over again.

—---

"Rise and shine, little blossom…"

Hearing the muffled, yet familiar whisper of her dear friend, Riley cautiously opens one eye. But in an instant, she closes it. Her eyebrows knit together, the burn from the bright sunlight too much for her right now.

“Max?” She croaks softly, her lips dry and cracked. “Maxwell?” She makes a small effort to move, but a sudden ache knocks her back onto her bed. She mouths the word ‘Ow’ as she slowly reaches up towards her injured shoulder with a trembling hand. 

“Shhh, Riley,” Maxwell tenderly pats her arm. “I’m gonna go get someone. I’ll be right back.”  With a squeeze of her fingers, Maxwell takes off to the nurse’s station.

Feeling the agonizing pulse in her left shoulder, Riley tries to open her eyes again.  Everything remains a blur as her eyes dart to the glass door. Two large men stand just outside the windows like perfect statues on either side of the frame, wearing what appears to be… guard uniforms?

“Drake…?” She tries to call out, assuming he's one of the men, but the hoarseness of her voice silences her attempt as she winces at her sore throat. Where am I? She frantically peers around her bed, noticing a collection of monitors and clear bags of fluids, all attached to her body with various cords and wires. 

What happened?

Riley’s head feels a bit swimmy, dizzy from the heavy medications she has been given, not to mention the anesthesia slowly dissipating from her body. She was trying to put the puzzle pieces back together, fact versus fiction. Each part played like a vignette in her memory. 

Laying in bed with Liam… The airplane crash… Giving herself a progesterone shot... Sneaking into the church with Drake…  Dancing at the award ceremony.  Gunshots…

Had it all been a dream?

Suddenly, her eyes widen with realization, wishful-thinking blooming across her face. It was a dream.  Noticing a big red button on the bed with the word ‘Nurse’, Riley frantically presses it. A jolt of hope bursts within her chest. 

It was just a dream– a terrible dream– but just a dream.

The sliding glass door to her ICU room hurriedly rolls open, an older nurse with peppered short hair hurries in with Maxwell hot on her tail.  “Well, well… look who’s finally awake!” She smiles kindly, her hazel gaze sparkling with genuine joy. “Your majesty, my name is Vangie, and it has been an honor to care for you through your recovery–”

“Recovery?” Riley looks to Maxwell with curiosity.

“You have two nurses that have been assigned to specifically care for you per the guard's protocol,” Maxwell informs as he takes a seat next to Riley’s bed, gently grabbing her hand. “Vangie here is your night nurse, and she has been incredible.”

Riley turns to the nurse, giving her an uncertain half grin before giving her attention back to Maxwell. “But… what is going on? Why–why am I here?”

Maxwell grips tightly to her fingers, a pensive-look crossing his features.  “You’re in the hospital, Ri. You had surgery–”

“Surgery?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” Vangie finishes administering medications into Riley’s IV before glancing back to her queen. “You’re quite lucky, actually.  You lost a lot of blood, and it was touch-and-go our first night together, but you have pulled through nicely–” her pager suddenly beeps, a slight annoyance flashes in her eyes. “My apologies, your majesty,” she bows, “I need to take this.”

Riley gently nods, offering a soft smile before turning back to Maxwell. He sweetly leans over her, resting his elbow on her bed as he pushes away stray hairs on her face.  “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. I've been so worried.”

Riley’s eyebrows furrow, an expression of confusion falls over her as she glances around the room. “Maxwell, I–” she cinches her eyes closed in frustration, “how long have I been out?”

“A good part of three days.” His words drip with worry, “They said the injuries you sustained were pretty severe, but thank God, one of the bullets missed your heart by two millimeters–”

“Bullets?”

Maxwell pauses inquisitively. “You don’t remember much, do you?” 

Riley chews on her lip, shaking her head.

“That’s honestly a good thing,” he sighs heavily.

“Max,” she softly pleas, “please… tell me?”

Maxwell sits up in his chair, combing his fingers through the relaxed style of his hair. “Ri, you just woke up. I think you should get some more rest before we dive into what happened. Heck, Olivia and Drake will be back in the morning, and we can–”

“--and Liam?”

Maxwell freezes, the color draining from his face at the mention of his dear friend and king.  He swallows thickly. “Wh–what about him?”

“Is he–?” She presses the heel of her hand against her forehead. “I must sound like a lunatic,” she chuckles anxiously, “but… it’s all bleeding together, these thoughts in my head spiraling and mixing reality with fantasy. I feel like when I’m awake, I’m dreaming, and when I’m dreaming, I’m awake, and–I mean, I just…” She tosses her hands on the bed, another titter escaping her throat as tears prick her eyes. “The airplane crash, the funeral, his casket… please tell me the truth.”

Maxwell’s breath hitches, causing a sobering chill to overwhelm Riley.  Of all the images flashing through her mind–the morgue, champagne in the orchard, his wedding ring on a necklace–she had hopes that maybe–just maybe– the worst of them all was actually a nightmare, that maybe Maxwell can ground her back into reality, that maybe—

“My husband… ?”

A wave of sorrow pours onto Maxwell's features as his ever-optimistic expression drains. And he shakes his head.

It wasn’t a dream. 

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

POUR TWO GLASSES

@busywoman @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @veebug8

------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

#pour two glasses #the royal romance #choices fanfic #choices trr #choices the royal romance #liam rys #king liam #king liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #liam x riley #drake x riley #liam x mc #drake x mc #maxwell beaumont #cordonia #choices fanfiction

[boxwinebaddie]

𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 & 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂,

greetings from wherever you are and whatever timezone you are in, and with any luck, in that nook you are tucked, it is still the best day of the year aka...Rile Pile's Birthday ( aka pastorcraigenjoyer on ao3 ), who some of you may call the style one-shot whump wizard now ft. lizard, but i am blessed to call, my lovely computer wife and life. <33

my angel, my darling, my dear, sweet girl: happy birthday, beloved.

( beneath the readmore is a birthday surprise. xx for my favorite redhead writer girl, but also for all of you. fair warning, you do have to read a lot to get there, but i promise that it will be worth the while. )

@actually-its-riley @1moreoffkeyanthem @marryme

i know that you do not like to make a big deal about your birthday, but unfortunately, i am a chaotic bisexual disaster, of whom pep!stan's insane stananigans and big sweeping gestures are #Based, so unfortunately, you have to endure my psychosis, RP.

which you often do, you wild and patient and wonderful thing you. <3 i sent you a DM on new years that was way better articulated than this, but when writing peppermint, i made a lot of friends who were readers and that was extremely gratifying, but i felt very isolated from the style writing community on ao3...until you came along. c':

i was also extremely anxious and over encumbered/ill-equipped to handle the stress that came along with the success of my fanfic, but your support throughout my writing journey made that load lighter.

it has been a joy and an honor being your friend and for once, being able to read rather than write -- all 70+ fanfics you have uploaded. which, given that i have written two unfinished ones, the fact that riley has written that many and finished them is astounding. :***

-- they are also brilliant, btw. we seriously don't deserve her. </3

but here's to trying!

and drying those tears for fears of dying, because when you write, you live forever, clever girl. but before i ramble on too long, my salt of the earth ( dissolved in oj ), here, dear, is my birthday gift to you. <3

so...listen. at first i was going to post a whumpshot for you but...the only person i ended up hurting was myself because i couldn't finish. granted, i never finish anything, as we know, but i had a backup plan.

which is this:

i am thankful for all the support i've gotten writing my fanfictions, but riley has been particularly supportive of me, both emotionally, and also regularly wrecks havoc on her poor followers by reblogging my insane niche au ask meme content onto her blog and likes all my stuff, no matter how weird or deranged it is.

i apologize because that's going to happen again, but this time it will hopefully be slightly more relevant because rp is fond of peppermint, and i am very fond of her so i decided...that for riley's birthday, i will be releasing everything i have in my drafts pertaining to…

pep 12. <3

whiiiiiiich is not much, please don't get your hopes up, but i think it is well deserved by you all and on what better occasion than today?

anyways, your cursed limited edition peppermint package includes:

-literally like the first five minutes of the chapter ( i'm not even joking that's how little i've written -- which is still too much -- and how slow )

-this weird thing that i posted on twitter once where stan is thinking about the friendship bracelets and being emo as fuck oh my god, i made a lot of weird metaphors...it's garbage, but...have at it.

-and finally, a very weird fucking flashback from hell that...is the main reason why my update got stalled because i couldn't figure out how to write it and when i started writing it, i got so comfortable in kyle's narration, i fucking *jersey vc* forgot it was stan season and started writing it in kyle's consciousness, then...tried to switch it back to stans...it's a mess. it's also not done like...at all, so you get a little bit of actual writing and actions and thoughts and a lot of...just dialogue. i wasn't sure about giving you guys the whole thing but i'm not sure if its gonna make it into pep, so i wanted to give you guys a chance to read it before i throw it into the fire where it belongs, smh...jail.

again, rp, i know today is a hard day, but i hope this makes it easier. thank you for being born, happy birthday...and i hope you heal, lovie.

but now...dear readers...without further ado, it is time,

to enjoy the very worst part...

...of the very best day. ;)

-uncle neen the queen with the scheme <3

p.s. the computer quality is ass, it looks better on the app, smh.

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮; 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷

a/n: EVERYONE SAY YOU'RE WELCOME UNCLE NINA FOR NOT KILLING STAN!!! HSDLKD STAN LIVES!!!! BARELY! SMH!!! i'm so sorry you waited so long for...sigh...that...anyways here's this too:

𝔀𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

A/N: wow...so edgy, nina. i wrote that instead of sleeping one night and i did not take my mood stabilizer so that's why it sounds insane. okay, here is this last thing which is...actually so embarrassing, but i love you all and riley specifically, so merry riley's birthday everyone.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓲'𝓿𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷

A/N: my kylepilequil!!!! HELLO!!!! HOPE YOU HEAL NATION!!! WHO IS UP BITCH!!!! that was choatic, i am not proud of a lot of that dialogue, particularly kyle being insane ( it was not gonna stay like that i promise...it was a road map...leading where? i have no clue ) but i hope that it thrilled you! please smile, pendejos lmaoooo, rip!

#ITS RILEYS BIRTHDAY #HIP HIP HORAY FOR GAY PPL #its a big day for annoying people aka riley fans aka me #i'm sorry this was insane queen u know how i am #i am physically incapable of not being dramatic as hell #BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERES PEPPERMINT!!!! I LOVE U #IM SORRY THIS IS CRINGE BUT I HOPE U HEAL BABES #im physically cringing at how much i need to rhyme things #like ok go off riddler what the fuck #my hands are over my eyes ur welc or im sorry rp & everyone else #the spelling and wording of all of this is hell #but im too lazy to try and make it better #it is what it is…a draft and flaming hot garbage

[feelin-lo]

The sleeping Giant.

BP X Big!Riley.

Happy birthday, BP.

Essentially, I came up with a thought, what if Riley was a Giant, And BP stumbled upon his home. And Riley immediately became clingy. :)

Ft, Some of my Moots and OCs. Credits;

BP - @boiling-potato

Ace and Meztli - @aesopsbaby

Rin - @alcohol1maid

Jane - @mystique-flowers-and-sibling-duo

_____________________________

BP had many names. One of them, Was the Spud Sorcerer. As they were a Magical person with an affinity for the root. There had been legends... Of a Giant, Living deep within the valley of The Fallen Castle. The reason the Valley was named this way, was because a castle, once belonging to a wealthy family had fallen off of a cliff due to tremors in the earth... The main tower fell... Creating a crater, opening a cave and leaving behind a beautiful arrangement of rocks...

BP, The Spud Sorcerer, Decided to take a look... Legend of the Sleeping Giant had gotten the better of them... They took a Team; A Cleric, that will talk of deep and meaningful things, dark as the night and as emotional as a sonnet. However, in actual fact, theyre a Golden Retriever in a humanoid form - Rin. A Paladin, who swears by the oath of Love, as seen by the many people in their life... Such as a Demon called Tsukiyomi... And who struggles to wear their clunky armour - Ace. A Druid, Who Loves spending time with animals and wants to keep all the ones they come across, even a Mountain lion if they had their way - Jane. And, A Ranger, Who's the Eye Candy has the rizz of a bard, though deep down he's compensating because he's actually really insecure so seeing people think he's attractive, really helps his self esteem, and because of a missing eye, can barely aim - Lo. The lot of them are close friends.

And the legend intrigued them all... The journey was long, with ups and downs. But eventually... They had arrived. The ruins... Ace and Rin, Who both have an affinity for shiny things, immediately run off, followed by an annoyed Lo, trying to keep everyone together. BP turned to Jane, A solemn look upon their face..."What do you think... We'll find..?" They asked, tilting their pointy hat to see Jane's eyes better.

"I'm not too sure... It could be anything... No one else has come down here, as people told tales of the Giant in bad ways ... I don't think the giant will be bad, They could be really sweet!" Jane smiled, BP chuckled, Jane could always see the good in things.

After a moment, Lo was able to wrangle Ace and Rin back under control after giving them some gold. "Huh... A cave... BP, Should we investigate?" Lo suggested, turning to meet the sorcerer. "I'd say so! I wanna see if we can meet this giant..."

The party nodded, making their way into the cave...The cave was large... Very large... At least 100 feet... At *Least*. Once they were inside... They all split up and looked around...

Jane came across some old technology... It looked like a robot... Holding an old kite... It was still living, though barely... "Hello there, Little one.."She smiled softly, Kneeling down and taking the automation into her arms... "I think I'll Call you... Monsieur Cloudy!" She smiled proudly, Looking at the cloud carvings across its arms... "I should take you to Winter... He's a good friend of mine, an Artificer too. He can help you..."

Meanwhile, Rin found a deep water pocket, inside, a Sleeping merman, Hair and tail as blue as the ocean... Glasses on his face... A few scars on his tail. The merman woke up with a shock and tried to call for help, but his voice was damaged... Rin crouched down, Brushing his hair out of his face... "Hey... Hey don't be scared, I'm here to help."

In a separate room, Ace came across a giant, when Ace tried to call for their Party, The giant lifted them and put a finger over their mouth as it covered most of their face. "Hush, Small creature. You'll wake my brother..."He spoke, his voice velvety and soothing... He's at least 100 feet tall...he has long black hair. His eyes and black and yellow,His skin is red and he has red horns and tail, the tail is adorned with bangles and piercings... His pointed ears are also pierced... Ace was in love.

Lo came across a treasury. Before he could pick anything up, was pinned to the wall he looked up to meet the gaze of a Demon... "Ah~ what do we have here~?" He chuckled, Running a finger under Lo's chin... "A new plaything~? Or... A new pet to call my own~?" Lo grunted and grabbed the Demon, Flipping their positions, The demon against the wall. "I'm not a pet."

The demon blushed, Licking his lips. "Yes sir..."

While all of this was going on, BP came across one final room... Inside .. a sleeping giant. With blue skin and dark hair... He had horns and a tail, His eyelashes white... Even a third eye... The giant woke and saw BP, And immediately started to cry... "A human! I've not seen one in so long!!" He cried, Grabbing BP and nuzzling them into his cheek as tears fell from his white eyes. After some crashing, The red giant came in. Holding ace. "Riley!" The red one said, Shuffling over, Ace smiled at BP with a blush on their cheeks "Look what I found" The blue one... Riley, Looked at the red one and pulled a face with puppy dog eyes."Can I stay with Them!? Please Jasper! Pleaseeeee!!" He cried, showing BP to the red one, Called Jasper. "Riley, I know. I know you miss the humans but... You can just keep all of the ones you find."

"But this is the first one in 100 years!!" "I know but-" "Pleaseeeee?!" "Okay! Okay... Calm down... You can keep them-" "Wait, Wait wait wait! Keep me?" BP Interjected, looking at the two giants. "Oh- sorry... I didn't mean to be rude..." Riley whimpered, immediately getting sad again for potentially offending BP. Jasper glared at BP with nothing short of malice... How dare they make his sweet angel brother cry?!

"hey, Hey... It's ok... But, you can't just keep humans. I'd be happy to come back, to see you again... But you have to be gentle. I'm BP. It's lovely to meet you." They smiled, which seemed to calm the Giant. Jane came in, Holding the robot remains. Rin came in, The Merman on their back. And Lo, With a demon cuddling him, walked in too.

"Hi." Lo said, Looking at his friends, The demon giggling as he snuggled against him.

"Seems we all found something. Mine's called Meztli."

"Mine's called Logan!"

"Hehe Jasper"

"I called him Monsieur Cloudy!"

"And I've found... Riley."

_____________________

(End of part 1)

#oc #original character #lo's ask box ✨ #ocs #my ocs #lo ✨ #logan ⭐ #lo's fics #not my oc #Not my Oc X my Oc

[auraspheres]

an INDIE. SELECTIVE. CANON DIV. AURA GUARDIAN RILEY from POKEMON D/P/PT + ancestor verse ft. Sir Aaron written by leche! Multiverse, crossover, and oc friendly. please read rules under cut before following!

「 ✧ 」 ABOUT. PROMO. MEME TAG. HEADCANONS.

rules!

✧ Very canon divergent. A lot of history, headcanons, and even in-game events are explored differently here. While in some realm canon complimenting this iteration greatly diverges from the norm.

✧Triggering content containing NSFW both sexual and intensive themes. I do write smut but all of the above is put under a read more and tagged accordingly. Please be 18+ to interact.

✧ Selective, crossover/oc friendly, mutuals only etc etc. I only interact with mutuals and wait to be followed first before following back if I can see our characters and writing meshing well. This is just so I can have an active dashboard that I can freely interact with.

✧ You do not need a verse to interact with my muse. If anything I prefer general crossover to see how they interact in their various worlds.

✧ While open to shipping and discussing possible connections with my muses I will not insta-ship. It’ll have to be chemistry and interaction based with buildup and note the blog is not ship-focused.

✧ Please like any ask or starter I answered for you! Tumblr as always has its faults in its notifications. It’ll save me a lot of anxiety if you do! Thanks a bunch!

✧ I don’t do mains or exclusives in any way. While I do have close mutuals I’ll interact with a lot because of comfort there are no central characters or plots otherwise besides my own. If a muse wants to get involved in some exclusive way please come by me to see if we can plot something out.

✧ I’m not interested in poly-shipping. Nothing wrong with it ofcourse but Im only really comfortable shipping with friends or mutuals I know and on the same space as I’m in. I’d ask for a single-verse for my muse or we can go through a platonic route if your muse is exclusively poly, but as with anything please come talk to me for anything.

✧ You dont have to ask to reply to an ask. Please do! If anything I ask if possible to follow through on a meme or ask you’ve sent be turned into an interaction unless the point is moot or its a drabble. Not required of course, it just helps start and build interactions!

✧ Note the plot is centralized to my characters and canons put under the v. main tag. Dash events, rpc happenings and the whathavs unless I say so otherwise are not canon and often put under the crack tag or untagged. Please dont assume anything from my muse or expect them to engage either as sadly I have to step away from the dash often and cant catch up. I prefer to have control over my narrative and if you want something outside included please plot with me!

✧ Think I missed you when ya followed? Just like my pinned post and Ill check you out but please dont harass me or ask to be mutuals following that. Sometimes there’s just no clear way for our writing, content or characters to interact and asking me to be mutuals puts me in an uncomfortable spot.

✧ The rules above are the most prominent but THE REST FALL UNDER GENERAL RP ETIQUETTE. Anything not listed but known should be adhered. But if you have any questions please feel free to send me an ask for clarification!

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PSD: spun sugar

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And hello! Im Leche, 30, Mexican Latinx, and first generation American. Im tired, gay, transmac but can’t stop rp'ing as a fun hobby

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