#simon writes

[sooinluvz]

 𝐉𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝐀 𝐓𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾

pairing : simon riley (ghost) x m!reader

summary : druken times call for druken decisions

tw : implied smut, alcohol consumption, cursing,

note : i thought of this while listening to friends by chase atlantic at midnight so enjoy! next part coming soon!

no good decisions should be made when your brain cells are on a temporary high and would come crashing down hard depending on how damaged your liver is by the time morning comes rolling through. you always thought that your superior officer, ghost, would be the logical one and make sure he kept a level head while the rest of 141 practically drown in the booze coming toward their table. so looking up at ghost leaning against the door frame of your small room was definitely a strange sight.

he was a heavy man to support, and definitely needed to lay off the late night exercises because it was very difficult with him being uneasy on his feet and taking small strides toward your bed to actually not have him falling on the floor. ghost was drunk—not as drunk as the others—but still over the legal limit. it was the first time you saw him not tense or angry.

something about ghost just appealed to you and your tipsy mind. he was handsome and he didn't even have to show his face in order to appeal to you, not many men had that kind of attraction going for them. that sweetened the idea of getting together with ghost, but it was mere delusion to think like that. especially if he wasn't into men, but it wouldn't be the first time you fell for a straight man.

sighing from your own ignorance, you drank some water to try and sober up a little bit while seated on your bed. it was quiet, you were pretty sure your superior was out cold on your bed but a low groan from behind flipped your thought upside down.

'"bloody hell.." his voice was deeper thanks to his drunken state and made a shiver run down your spine. that accent of his was sexy, it was raw and authentic, letting you know that ghost spent the majority of his life in the uk for his accent to be so thick. "rookie, why is my head spinning?"

you looked over your shoulder after minute and you stilled completely. that bloodshot gaze was staring straight into your eyes, definitely making you forget how to breathe for a second. you chewed your bottom lip nervously, the tingling inside your gut made you feel like the alcohol wasn't agreeing with your system but it was just your nerves going hyper. a growl somewhat animalistic pulled you out of your swell and made you release your bottom lip.

awkwardly, you turned your body to come face to face with him, it made you feel your adam's apple bob. "i'm not entirely sure what happened.. but sergeant mactavish asked me to take you back since i was already about to leave and you were sleeping on the table.. sir." you answered in a feeble manner, not used of being this close in proximity to ghost.

he seemed confused for a moment before rubbing his eyes in irritation. it was silent again, but it was better than mumbling like a child so as you picked at the plastic bottle, you were unaware of the hungry lingering in ghost's tired eyes. the older male grabbed the bottle out of your hands and drank the remainder of the liquid, wiping the excess that may have spilled from his mouth.

whatever was going through your hazy mind when you watched ghost certainly roared to life, blood rushing down south and erecting your dick. "crap.." you cursed under your breath, pants making your cock feel cramped within its tightness and it needed to breath. hopefully your superior wouldn't be able to see the obvious tent in your pants in the dim lighting. you swallowed, standing up with a slight weakness in your legs. "excuse me—woah!"

before you could take a step toward the bathroom a strong force pulled you backward making you stumble onto your bed, leaving you helplessly laying on your back. "it's been difficult.. just trying to get you out of my head. pisses me off, how you're so carefree while i.. struggle against my urges.." his voice was definitely your weakness, but now it seemed like you had a lot of weaknesses at the moment. your heart was in your throat, stopping any words from reaching your tongue.

"what do ya say, rookie? wanna let me off, this one time?"

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

[punch-aholic]

Etiology - Chapter Two: Agoraphobia

Wooo, I finally updated Etiology! Now that the pre-story stuff is over we can start getting into the Arkham storyline in the next chapter.

Read it on AO3

Jester sat with his head on the filthy table as Dr. Crane fiddled with the ‘super important’ vial of chemicals. As much as he and Eddie claimed that they were completely different, they had one thing in common. They weren’t very interesting to be around. Jonathan had told Jester they could talk in ‘one minute’, which was about fifteen minutes of silence ago. Jester glared at the old man pouring one vial into another with shaky hands. 

He slammed his hand down on the table loudly, causing Dr. Crane to jump. 

Jester snickered and covered his mouth with his hand while Jonathan simply rolled his eyes and put down the vials. “What?” he asked in a tired, raspy voice. 

Jester smiled and finally sat up. “I need advice.”

“Isn’t that Edward’s job?” Jonathan asked, getting up to wash his hands in the lab sink. 

“Well, yes. But he’s giving me bad advice!”

“Ah. So you want me to tell you what you want to hear?”

Jester shot the older man a frustrated look. “Eddie is forbidding me from talking to Red Hood. Honestly, I think it’s way uncool. It’s like he thinks I’m just gonna deliver all of our secrets on a silver platter right to Batman! And according to Red, they aren’t even that close.”

Jonathan shrugs and leans back in his desk chair. “Edward is afraid of losing what little influence in this city he has left. He’s lost his touch, you and I both know that.”

“But that’s my point. All Eddie cares about is his stupid reputation. He just HAS to be better than everyone else. When’s the last time he cared about ME?”

“He took you in, didn’t he? He’s given you his home, food and safety.”

“Eight years ago. I just… want him to pay more attention to me. Instead of his stupid toys.”

Jonathan sighed and pushed his glasses further up his crooked nose. Jester pretended like he didn’t notice him jotting down notes in his notebook under the desk. “You want him to be your father.”

Jester felt a pang in his chest. He and Eddie had known each other since he was a child. Eddie had taught him everything he knew. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not a bad thing… just an unrealistic one. I can’t change Edward’s behavior or his… apathy towards others. However, if it’s freedom you want, perhaps it’s time to move out. You’re an adult now. Edward can’t look after you forever.”

Jester thought about Jonathan’s words while staring at the ceiling in bed that night. Being on his own again was a horrifying thought. He had no education, despite Eddie’s best efforts, no marketable skills, no money and no future planned. He’d be useless in the real world. Eddie couldn’t help him anymore… Maybe Red would have some ideas. 

The next morning, Jester rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked down the stairs. Jonathan always made bacon in the mornings he visited, but the smell hadn’t reached him yet. 

As soon as he reached the bottom stair, the sound of Eddie’s voice caused him to stop in his tracks. 

“You’re not exactly one to talk when it comes to emotional vulnerability, Jon.”

“I’m just telling you what he told me, Edward. You’ll never admit it, but you love that boy and if you don’t tell him you’re going to end up just like you and your-”

“Don’t.”

“-and your father.”

Jester’s breathing stopped. Eddie’s dad was a forbidden topic of discussion. Any talk about Eddie’s past at all was, actually. He could hear a glass bottle slam down against a table, and Eddie’s upset voice. “You’re not his psychiatrist, Jonathan and you’re sure as hell not mine! I never signed up for having a kid! I should’ve spent the last eight years working on what really matters! Not making mac and cheese and playing Mario Kart!”

Tears filled Jester’s eyes. He’d had his suspicions about how Eddie felt about him for years, but to hear it said directly was a knife to the heart. 

“And killing Batman… that’s what really matters to you? You don’t think that maybe you have a responsibility to that boy? He doesn’t remind you of you at all?”

“Fuck off, Jon. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me.” After a moment of silence, Eddie sighed. “I know I’m responsible for him. Which is why I’m so frustrated that he’s about to ruin everything I’ve worked for because he wants to fall for a vigilante that’s gonna send him to Arkham the second he screws something up. And knowing Jester, that’s inevitable.” 

Jester couldn’t hold back the sob that racked through his body. His fingernails dug into the meat of his arms, and both of the voices in the kitchen silenced. Jester quickly grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Eddie and Jonathan quickly ran into the living room, Eddie with a guilty look on his face. “Riley, stop-”

“NO!” Jester screamed through his tears. The use of his real name only made him tense up more. His fists shook, and he held his teeth together so tightly it felt like they were going to crack. “I get it. Loud and fucking clear!”

Eddie stepped closer, only for Jester to pull the pistol out of the holster on his hip. His whole body shook, and the dark makeup around his eyes began to streak with his tears. Eddie stilled while Jonathan slowly reached his hand for the toxin grenade on his belt. “Jester, it’s alright.” he muttered softly. “You can leave. No one’s gonna stop you.”

Eddie’s shoulders sank and he looked the younger boy in the eye. “I’m sorry. Please, we… we can talk.”

Jester scoffed and used his free hand to turn the doorknob. “I don’t wanna talk to you anymore. I think you should just leave me alone!” He quickly left, slamming the door behind him and running out of the Gotham suburbs and into the bustling city. Jester knew he couldn’t go back home, but being on the Gotham streets on a rainy night was always a losing battle. He did the only thing he could… he texted Red. 

JES: I need help. 

RH: You okay?

JES: No. I got in some trouble. JES: Don’t tell anyone. Meet me at the docks. 

RH: What kind of trouble?

RH: Anyone hurt?

JES: Just meet me there. NOW!!

____________________

Jester shivered as the rain poured down on his smaller frame, seeping into his clothes and hair and smearing his makeup. He wished he could’ve picked a few things up from Eddie’s. His guitar, some clothes, his makeup. 

The sound of boots wading through the puddles made Jester jump and turn to see Red walking towards him fast, the rain beading off of the shiny helmet. Jester sighed in relief and ran up to meet his friend, wrapping his arms around him quickly. Red held him for a moment before pulling back and holding him still. “What happened?”

Jester sniffled and blinked back his tears. “I… got in a fight with Eddie. I can’t go back. Red, I don’t have anywhere else to go I… I need help.”

Red sighed and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Jes, you gave me a fucking heart attack. I thought you…”

Jester narrowed his eyes. “Thought I what?”

“Nevermind. I… you don’t have any other friends or family? No one who will take you in?”

“No, I only know Eddie and Jon… and you. Red, I know it’s a lot to ask but I need to stay with you tonight. I can’t go back out on the street, I can’t!” Jester said through sobs, holding onto the dark camo print of Red’s jacket for dear life. 

Red stood still for a moment. “Jes… I can’t bring you back to my place.”

“What?”

“I live with… with everyone. If I brought you there… I’d be putting everyone in danger. You have to understand that you can’t know where I live.”

Jester furrowed his eyebrows and pushed Red away. “No. I don’t understand! I thought we were friends, I thought we were… I’ve let you crash at my place before without Eddie’s permission. I’ve patched up your scars and bought you food and I need your help!” 

A loud ‘whoosh’ was heard behind the pair, and Jester quickly reached for his gun, only to have Red grab his hand quickly, muttering “shit” under his breath as he walked in front of Jester. “It’s fine, he didn’t hurt anyone. I can handle this.”

Jester looked over Red’s shoulder, only to freeze in place as he looked into the white eyes of Batman. 

Jester kept his grip on Red’s jacket, his breathing beginning to quicken. “You called him?!”

Red’s helmet turned to look at him. “Your text was vague. I thought.. Something might have happened.”

“You thought… I hurt somebody?”

“Hood, I’m taking you off this mission. You’ve gotten too close. Go back to the cave while I handle this.” the older man’s deep voice boomed through the loud rain, causing both of the younger men to still. 

A million thoughts ran in Jester’s head. ‘You’ve gotten too close’ and the word ‘mission’ played over and over as Red tried to explain himself to his mentor. 

“It was a misunderstanding. He hasn’t done anything wrong. C’mon, B, he’s just a kid.”

Jester pushed Red away as everything began to catch up to him. “You… you set me up.”

Red turned to him, guilty. “We… We knew Riddler had a kid. He asked me to investigate, that’s it! I was never gonna turn you in-”

Jester began to hyperventilate, and for the second time today, he pulled out his pistol, shooting Red point blank in the chest. 

And in a flash, Batman was on him. 

A punch to his temple knocked Jester to the ground immediately, his head ringing. He felt sick. Still, he attempted to stand up and land a punch, only for it to be caught in the Bat’s gauntlet. His hands were quickly held behind his back, and he was forced to his knees. Red and blue lights flashed as the cars approached, though he couldn’t hear the sirens through the pain in his head. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Red Hood standing up, pulling the bullet from his chest plate as he ran towards Jester. 

#batman #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #dc comics #Simon writes #fic: etiology #jester #original character #Edward nygma #Edward nashton #the riddler #red hood #Jason todd #jason todd x original character #Jonathan crane #scarecrow dc #bruce wayne

[spookylostboy]

Just gonna throw this into the void :D

“Ianto sighs. “I do love him. I’ve never denied that. But that doesn’t mean he loves me back. He’s Jack.” He smiles, thinking of the immortal and all he is, but it drops quickly, “He doesn’t go around falling in love with people. And he certainly hasn’t found himself falling in love with me!”

“The Captain will come for you! Whenever you are in danger, the Captain-”

“Oh just shut up already!” Ianto shouts, suddenly very tired and angry with this conversation.

Or, Ianto says some things while kidnapped and Jack overhears.

He'll just have to set his Welshman straight. (Ha)”

#It's just janto being sappy okay? #posted to ao3 first but like. just now lol #janto #ianto jones #jack harkness #captain jack harkness #torchwood #simon says #simon writes

[unmotivatedartistry]

OKAY I WAS DOING SOME ANGSTY WRITING BULLSHIT AND I WROTE SOMETHING I WAS PROUD OF. HOLY--

... And so, he'd hidden himself quietly and neatly into a box, never to be seen again. Nothing, none of his weakness, none of his pain, none of the tears he'd shed, no one would ever know what could or couldn't hurt him.

"No one to hurt you if there are no weapons."

He thought. Maybe he'd be right. Maybe he'd be wrong. Then again, who to care if there's none of you to care for?

#simon writes #Listen it's bad and angsty and shitty I KNOW #But I like it and want to hand it to you #No you're never seeing the full piece of writing. Don't even ask #(also I love my new tagging system. aw damnit I should change my art tag to simon draws) #(there's gonna be simon says simon answers simon writes and simon draws. probably more that im forgetting but yea) #(I'm gonna change it to that later.)

[simondoespoetry]

Many words about love have been said

But I will be dead

In the ground before I stop shouting

At the top of my lungs

About how much I love you.

#love poem #original writing #original work #original poem #original love poem #simon writes

[mebssann]

imagine you're living in the post apocalypse and your adopted dad still makes you do homework

#I just think it's cute that Marcy canonically learned how to read and write from Simon #adventure time #marceline abadeer #simon petrikov #fanart #digital art #my art

[sentientfloatingeyeball]

Possibly the greatest NPR exchange ever recorded

#npr news #ai #support the wga #wga strike #writers strike #anti ai writing #david simon #wga solidarity #he said that #the wire #ari shapiro

[kurorama]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

[ghostly-whiskey]

simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.

and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.

bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.

your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.

you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.

again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!

and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:

p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader fluff #simon ghost riley x reader fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost cod #call of duty #୨୧˚whiskey writes˚୨୧ #୨୧˚whiskey writes ghost˚୨୧

[tacticalprincess]

simon and könig being unable to stop bickering for a second, even when they’re balls deep inside of you. they’ve got you in an Eiffel Tower, könig’s cock filling your glossy pussy while simon stuffs your mouth. it took ages of convincing for them to even consider this position, but eventually they decided to put their discrepancies aside for the sake of you, their precious, spoiled little thing. it didn’t last very long though…

“jackhammer much, mate? you’ve got her choking on me over here.” simon points out, his heavy hand stroking your hair soothingly. könig’s using your hips as leverage, bucking into you at a rabid pace, each of his thrusts lurching your body forward and forcing you to take more of simon’s dick down your poor throat. “what happened to treatin’ the princess with care?”

“it’s okay, she likes it. isn’t that right, maus?”

your cheeks warm up as you hum around simon’s dick noncommittally. nothing gets passed the l.t though, and suddenly he’s gripping you by your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock.

“wait, you let him fuck your face?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended.

you wipe the line of spit that trails from your swollen lips all the way to his still hard dick, hovering just out of reach. you huff. “he’s more sadistic than you…” you say sheepishly in response, voice staccato from könig’s thrusts.

“you tellin’ me i’m the soft sex guy? the aftercare fuck?”

“‘s alright, mate.” könig reaches over your naked body to pat his comrade on the shoulder. “youve got boyfriend dick. happens to the best of us.”

#sum slight idk i might love them #simon x reader x könig #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #könig smut #könig x reader #konig smut #konig x you #könig cod #bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[sooinluvz]

 𝐋𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝐀𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝐖𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾

pairing : dabi x shigaraki

summary : shigaraki knew he wasn't special

tw : smut, mlm, degration, slight bondage, dabi being an ass

note : random idea with a second part :0

dabi and shigaraki had a love-hate relationship. in public they couldn't stand each other, but behind closed doors, well, that was a different story all together. and as dabi pounded his dick inside of shigaraki's tight hole, he relished in how his boss looked like he was about to break. all because of the implant dabi had in his dick, it was enough to send shigaraki over the edge and beyond.

"what? you don't feel like yelling at me now, huh shiggy?" dabi taunted, pulling shigaraki's hair out of his eyes and chuckled when the leader of the liberation army couldn't even retort. shigaraki's hands were bound to the bed frame, his mouth gagged and was being taken from behind. the leader shivered when dabi sucked on the shell of his ear, and dabi pumped his shaft. "c'mon. . . you're the one who told me to do this." a sharp spank on his ass made shigaraki jerk forward.

the cremation user kneaded shigaraki's ass cheeks, his balls still slapping against the other male's skin. "what do you think? the other members seeing—fuck—you like this? ha. . . getting dicked down by your favourite boy." dabi gripped shigaraki's hips tightly, a smirk on his lips as he felt there was more muscle on his leader now after they had been training together. not that he didn't mind when shigaraki was a twink, but now at the very least he had some meat to hold.

dabi ran his tongue along shigaraki's nape, enjoying how the male clenched around him because of how sensitive his neck was. with a chuckle, dabi bite down on him, leaving a nice bite mark. "now, you're mine. like the fucking bitch you are, shiggy. like that?" of course shigaraki couldn't answer, but the saliva that was dripping down his chin was enough to tell dabi what he wanted to hear. the flame user groaned right in shigaraki's ear and sucked on his lobe, his backside practically having a mind of its own as he chased down his high, shigaraki was just along for the ride.

"mmmh, shit. . . " dabi groaned as he bucked his hips just a bit more, his seed coating shigaraki's insides like a work of art. he was addicted to how shigaraki clenched around him, milking dabi dry just like the whore he was. pulling his softening cock out of shigaraki's little hole, dabi wiped the sweat off of his brow and stood up. he stared at shigaraki's quivering form, flushed cheeks, heaving chest, bruised body, it was almost enough to get him hard again. then when his phone caught his attention, dabi walked over to his jacket and answered the incoming call.

"birdy? miss my dick already?" the villain chuckled as he leaned against the bed, barely paying any mind to the look of jealousy in shigaraki's eyes. "c'mon, don't be coy. we both know you touch your little cock thinking of me. hah! let the heroes hear who makes you cry, bird boy. alright. . . i'll be there in an hour." with that, dabi stood up and smirked as he pulled the saliva soaked gag down and untied the ropes around shigaraki's wrists.

". . . off to hawks? you must really like getting to fuck a hero, huh, dabi? is it because he's got money? must be fun being his little lap dog." shigaraki didn't even flinch when he felt the sting of the slap across his cheek. "touchy." yeah, he was pissed off. yeah, he hated dabi seeing other people. but he wasn't about to ruin his reputation over some silly feelings that would have disappeared at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

their relationship wasn't perfect. it was purely transactional. there was no room for feelings. even if dabi had them for hawks. it was clear to shigaraki, and he hated how his heart painfully thumped against his chest as he watched dabi get dressed and leave him there to clean himself up. shigaraki had to remind himself that there was no future for him and dabi. not in this lifetime anyway.

#—seol  #—simon  #simon writes #smut #bnha #dabi #shigaraki tomura #bnha hawks #dabishiga #dabihawks #mha #mature

[punch-aholic]

Etiology - Chapter One: Cognition

A new fic! I got so much love for Double Jeopardy I decided to write a little bit for my other oc Jester! This one will be updated less often than DJ but I'm super excited for y'all to read it. DJ will have an update this week too! Sorry for the hiatus :)

Read it on AO3

The hands gripping his upper arms were rough, large and calloused. Jester looked at the large guards on either side of him with dead eyes. He read the nametags carefully, remembering the names so that he could do his research when he got out of here. IF he got out of here. Ramirez and Beckham. Beckham. Why did that name seem so familiar?

He was led through the dirty old halls of Arkham Asylum into the cell block. Screaming, cackling and insane muttering filled the rooms, and Jester wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to the never ending noises. Eddie and Dr. Crane had told him stories of the Mad House, but nothing could compare to seeing the aging, vine-covered walls in person. As they walked by, plenty of insane patients came up to the glass to gawk and laugh at Jester. One man in particular slammed his fists against the glass repeatedly and grinned at the boy. Jester swallowed hard and shut his eyes tight as he continued walking. Ramirez, the tall guard to his left, was a handsome man in his late twenties, who looked like he had been working a triple shift based on the bags underneath his eyes. He looked down and sensed Jester’s unease, and he slightly nudged Jester. “You won’t be staying in this cell block. These people are extreme. You’ll be with people more like yourself.”

Jester wanted to ask what ‘more like himself’ meant, but was hindered by the bite-risk mask covering his mouth and holding it closed. Jester supposed this is what he got for attempting to spit at Batman and the commissioner the day prior. Still, Ramirez’ kind smile put his anxiety at ease. Eddie always said the guards at Arkham were like dogs. Maybe he was exaggerating. 

Finally, they arrived at his cell block. As they walked through the hallway, Jester didn’t recognize a single face in the hall. He knew Harvey and Harley were in Arkham right now, but they must have been considered more ‘extreme’ patients. He was hoping to see at least one familiar face. Instead, he was greeted with violent men and women who looked up at him with contempt as he was escorted into his own cell. Beckham, the large, angry-looking guard who held his arms tightly, shoved him inside, making sure the cuffs on his wrists were locked tight before reaching his hands for the mask. He glared down at Jester and squeezed the sides of his head so tight it felt like it’d pop. “If you spit at me, or try to bite me, I’ll knock you out, kid. Clear?”

Jester glared back at the man and nodded slowly. Beckham unlocked the mask and pulled it off, and Jester immediately spit on the man’s shirt. Beckham’s eyes widened as he reared back and punched Jester in the mouth with all the force he could muster. Jester immediately fell to the floor in a flash, handcuffed hands barely catching his fall as blood began to spill from his mouth. Bolton reached back for another punch only to have his hand held back by Ramirez. “Easy! He’s down, alright?!”

Jester licked the blood from his teeth and spit it onto the floor. He groaned as he stretched his jaw open, wincing in pain. He had already gained a good amount of bruises from his fight with Batman, and Jester was sure his jaw was crooked at this point. He stared at the floor for a few moments, holding back tears. He wasn’t going to cry. Beckham grumbled and lifted Jester by his messy hair. “You’re gonna learn a few rules while you’re here, pretty boy. This isn’t your daddy’s house. You’re gonna respect your superiors, you’re gonna keep your cell clean, and you’re gonna keep your head down and shut up. Otherwise we’ll have to give you extreme treatment. Got it?”

Jester sniffled and nodded slowly, his breathing ragged and quick. Beckham snickered and smeared the blood across his face. “Not so pretty now, huh?” He dropped the boy and laughed on his way out, locking the door and leaving Jester in the quiet cell. 

Jester sat against the concrete wall and attempted to catch his breath. The cell was small, with one bed on a rickety frame and one blanket. The toilet was in the open, matching a small sink with padded faucet handles. Jester pulled his knees to his chest and held his fist up to his bleeding mouth, attempting to put pressure on the wound. Every bone in his body felt like it was on fire. Batman hadn’t gone easy on him. Jester shut his eyes tight as the night had begun to come back to him. Jason attempting to hold Batman back, Jester’s feeble punches that made no connections and the shouting matches of the three men. And Eddie… small tears filled Jester’s eyes at the thought of Eddie’s face as he left Jester behind, but he quickly blinked them away. He wouldn’t let the people in here see him cry. 

~ One week earlier ~

Jester let his feet swing underneath the table he sat on in Eddie’s workshop, barely listening to Eddie ramble about something to do with thermodynamics. His eyes were trained on the analog clock above the desk. Only two minutes left. Jester sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the desk, staring up at the ceiling. Eddie looked up from his current project/death trap, goggles on, and glared at the boy. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

Jester snickered and sat up. “Kinda.” He jumped up from the desk and picked up the little device Eddie was working on, tossing it into the air and catching it. “I just asked ya to tell me what it’s supposed to do.”

Eddie pulled his goggles off, snatching the device from Jester’s hands and continuing his work. “It’s a signal jammer that directly taps into Batman’s communication system, keep your hands off!”

Jester rolled his eyes and looked up at the clock again, smiling. “Gotta go!” he shouted, grabbing his bag and running for the door, only for it to be shut in his face. He turned to see Eddie in his chair with the remote in hand, glaring at him. Jester’s shoulders sank. “C’mon, Eddie!”

“Wanna tell me where you’re going?” he said with a stern tone. Eddie could be such a helicopter guardian. 

Jester sighed and leaned back onto the door. “I’m just… gonna visit Uncle Jon.”

“Liar.” Eddie stated plainly. “I know who you’re going to see, and I’m putting my foot down this time. You’re staying home.”

Jester crossed his arms and glared at the older man. “Red is my friend, Eddie. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m nineteen now. You can’t keep me locked up in here forever.”

“I’m not worried about you hurting yourself. I’ve known Red Hood a lot longer than you have. Just because he uses a gun doesn’t mean he doesn’t work for Batman. And when the Bat finds out about you, where will that lead him? Right back here. My ONLY good safehouse left! I’m not gonna let you ruin it because you’ve got a little crush.” Eddie pulled his goggles back on and continued to work on his project. 

Jester’s chest tightened at Eddie’s words. Of course Eddie only cared about the safehouse. Jester walked forward and snatched the remote from Eddie’s desk, opening the door. “I don’t have a crush, and I’m smarter than you think. I’d never tell Red where I live. Give me a little credit!”

As he began to walk back to the door, Eddie stood up. “Jester. Do not walk out that door-” “You’re not my dad, Eddie!”

Eddie stilled, glaring at the boy in front of him. He was right. Their relationship was complicated. Eddie had done all he could for the kid, but he just wasn’t good enough at being there for him emotionally. Sure, he could joke with him, patch up his knees when he scraped them but at the end of the day they wouldn’t be posing for Christmas card photos or going to baseball games. Hell, Eddie hadn’t even taught the kid how to drive. 

“Fine. Do what you want.”

Jester was never anything less than grateful for Eddie taking him in, but deep down he always felt like he wasn’t smart enough to really be Eddie’s kid. Eddie’s dismissals and cold words always stung. Sure, Dr. Crane could be mean and bitter, but it was Eddie’s approval he wanted more than anything. Just one time where he would say ‘You did good’. 

Jester sighed and turned around, walking out of the safehouse and into the rainy Gotham City streets, leaving a tired and frustrated Eddie behind.

Jester stood on the rooftop of the bank, looking at his phone clock and tapping his foot. Any time away from the safehouse was exciting for Jester, but the opportunity to get his hands dirty was even more exciting. 

“Excited to see me?”

Jester grabbed his gun and quickly turned to point it at the voice, only to be met with nothing. Suddenly, his feet were tripped underneath him, and he fell to the ground with a thud. He looked up to see the familiar red mask and brown leather jacket of his friend. Red Hood chuckled and held out his hand. “Will you ever not fall for that?” he joked in a deep, but still youthful voice. 

Jester glared up at him and smacked his hand away, standing up on his own. “Shut up.”

Red shrugged and pressed a few buttons on his gauntlet. “I’ve got a drug deal to bust a few blocks away. You in?”

Jester smirked and punched Red’s shoulder playfully. “Hell yeah, I’m in!”

Later that night, the two sat on the fire escape of an abandoned hotel, Jester quickly putting away a greasy slice of pizza and Red watching the stars as he leaned his helmet against the pole of the escape. These moments were the only times he got to relax during late night patrols like this, and the only moments Jester got non-frozen food to eat. 

Jester licked the grease off his thumb and nudged Red with his elbow. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. You missed our last two meetings.”

Red shrugged and cracked his knuckles, a bad habit. “Got into a fight with the big guy. Had to lay low for a bit.” “You two aren’t close?”

Red chuckled sadly. “It’s complicated.”

Jester smiled and looked up at the stars with him. “I know a thing or two about complicated.”

Red smirked behind his mask. Sure, Jester’s relationship with Eddie was complex, but he had a feeling that his own relationship with Batman was complicated enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Not that Jester needed to know anything about that. “We were close but… stuff happened. We don’t exactly see eye to eye anymore.”

Jester smiled and leaned closer, batting his eyes dramatically. Red laughed and pushed his face away. “I’m not telling you my super secret, traumatic origin story. Not until you tell me yours.”

“Pfft, yeah right. Trust goes both ways, Red. I’m a closed book-”

A beep went off on Red’s gauntlet, and the older man quickly covered Jester’s mouth with his gloved hand, before pressing a button on his mask. “Talk to me.” Jester could hear the muffled sounds of a voice coming over Red’s communicator. After a moment, Red sighed and shook his head. “Shit. Alright, yeah, I can get there in five minutes. Try and get B to calm down.” He pressed the button on his  mask again and stood up. “I was supposed to meet the big guy twenty minutes ago. Two-Face is lighting up the Diamond District bank.”

Jester smiled and stood up with him. “Can I come?”

“Fuck no. Batman will have you in Arkham before you could even say ‘hello’.” He gave Jester a little salute. “I’ll see you next week, I promise.” At that, he jumped off the edge of the fire escape, leaving Jester with nothing but a box of half eaten pizza and an orange soda. Jester sighed and banged his head against the pole of the fire escape. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to Eddie after their fight. So he went to the only other person he knew. 

He picked up his phone and texted ‘Uncle Jon’. 

JES: “I’m spending the night”. 

A moment later, a text back. 

UNCLE JON: Bring food. 

#batman #artists on tumblr #dc comics #Simon writes #fic: etiology #jester #original character #edward nygma #Edward nashton #the riddler #red hood #Jason todd #Jason todd x original character #Jonathan crane #scarecrow

[spookylostboy]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @littlebitofdiaz <3 (thank you so much, I’ve been wanting to do this!!)

“It’s okay.” Sometimes people need to be protected from him. He knows that’s not what she meant, but he also knows he’s right. “I get it.”

From my Janto Shapeshifter Au (ya know the one: the cat and the witch 🥰)!

Tagging @go-catch-a-chickn and anyone else who wants to join!! (bc I can’t remember who else is a writer 😅)

#thank you again for the tag renee <33 #ily muwah <3 #last line game #janto #simon says #simon writes #tag game

[suguann]

When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.

You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—

“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 

He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”

With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 

It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.

The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.

His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”

“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 

It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 

“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”

You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”

“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”

Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”

Masterlist

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #cod smut #cod fic #cod imagine #cod x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #.things i write

[elexaria]

simon swore up and down he’d never want kids, he was certain he’d end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, “look at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? i’m tapped in the head, ‘ts not fair to give a kid any of that.” as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.

years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. he’s gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.

not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.

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

[whinesandwhimpers]

down bad simon may look a little like this

You've stepped outside for some fresh air so when Simon walks out a few minutes after you and lights up a cigarette, your face immediately scrunches up in disgust.

He catches your expression. "Not a fan of smoking?"

"Came out for some fresh air."

"Hm, seems like more than that." He muses, turning his head away to blow out some smoke.

"I just think it's gross."

He's silent for a few moments and you think maybe he's offended even, but then he turns back to you and clears his throat.

"That one of your deal breakers then?"

"Deal brea—yeah. It is. Don't think I could bring myself to even kiss a smoker. Why? You interested?" You joke, expecting a laugh and dismissal of the conversation.

He immediately throws his cigarette on the ground and snuffs it out with his shoe, then walks over to the bin and pulls the half-full carton out of his pocket and throws it and his lighter out. Just like that. He walks back over to stand in front of you, his large hand coming up to rest on your cheek, an intensity simmering in his dark eyes as he looks at you.

"Yes."

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #down bad simon #my writing