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reyrapidsbutgayer · 6 months

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Ranking All Elden Ring Bosses by Fuckability

It was only a matter of time until I made a post like this.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with and are not actively trying to kill you.

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Dragonkin Soldier:

Mindless beast

Astel, Naturalborn of the Void

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Fia's Champions:

Ghosts, simps.

Regal Ancestor Spirit

Animal

Erdtree Avatar

A plant

Great Wyrm Theodorix

Mindless beast.

Ulcerated Tree Spirit

A plant, no junk

Tibia Mariner:

Skeleton

Red Wolf of the Champion:

Animal.

Full-Grown Fallingstar Beast

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Abductor Virgin

First off, just some snakes in a robot. Second, virgin.

Erdtree Burial Watchdog

Stone gargoyle

Crystalians

Non-organic

Mad Pumpkin Heads

Unable to consent due to madness.

Cemetery Shade

Unable to consent due to mind controlling parasite.

Spirit-Caller Snail

Animal

Runebear

Animal

Miranda the Blighted Bloom

A plant

Guardian Golem

Stone gargoyle

Starscourge Radahn:

Unable to consent due to madness

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Elden Beast:

Too catholic.

Sir Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing:

Dick game weak - unironically posts joker memes.

Omenkiller:

Basically a cop.

Necromancer Garris:

Killed his family, not a good husband.

Royal Revenant:

Won't stop screaming (in an unsexy way)

Godrick the Grafted:

Incel - Also all that murder and torture business but mostly the Incel stuff.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Valiant Gargoyle:

Could probably have sex if it wanted to, but is kinda going through a lot right now. Ya know, that whole "Is made of several corpses mashed together" thing.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella:

Look, I ALSO wanted her to higher up on this list, but let's be honest here. Her body is rotting and falling apart, she just isn't up for sex in her current form. In her prime? She'd be top of the list. She's the daughter of Marika and Radagon, she'd be playing fuck/marry/kill with every warrior who crossed her path. (in that order)

Death Rite Bird:

I think it might be physically capable of sex, but is too busy burning corpses to bother with stuff like that.

Black Blade Kindred:

Same reason as the Valiant Gargoyle but you might have like 2% more of a chance because they are goth.

Maliketh, the Black Blade:

Would normally be a sex god, but is too religious. Probably took a vow about this sort of thing.

Morgott, the Omen King:

You kidding me? This guy has the same energy as a repressed youth pastor. He's gonna be a virgin till the day he dies. The dude sided with the same religious order that locked him a sewer and tried to kill him. He's not out there getting phone numbers he's too busy praying and judging others for their 'impure thoughts'.

Draconic Tree Sentinel:

Married to his job, also physically chained to his horse. He ain't taking off that armor anytime soon.

Wormface:

Too sad, leave him alone his face is full of worms.

Tree Sentinel:

Same as the Draconic Tree Sentinel but he's a tiny bit more naive so you might have a better chance.

Elder Dragon Greyoll:

Too sleepy, but still kinda a milf.

Grafted Scion:

There might be some genitals in there somewhere but I don't think they know how or even want to use them.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Esgar, Priest of Blood:

No sense of hygiene, is always covered in blood (in an unsexy way)

Mohg, Lord of Blood:

This loser is dripping with all the least sexy bodily fluids and he has sharp horns sticking out of him. Even if you got him in bed you'd only enjoy like 5% of it. Plus you just know he'd be all needy afterwards and try to get you to join his MLM.

Borealis the Freezing Fog:

Too cold, not a snuggler.

Elemer of the Briar:

The armor stays ON during sex.

Kindred of Rot:

It's like all the worst possible aspects of alien biology, it won't be nearly as fun as you hoped.

Sanguine Noble:

Same as all the other Mohg followers, too sticky and too smelly.

Decaying Ekzykes:

He's sick right now, leave him alone.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Loretta, Knight of the Haligtree:

I'm sure she'd be a decent lover. Maybe a little overzealous but she'd has good intentions.

Grave Warden Duelist:

I mean these guys are hot and probably fuck like a truck but they are not the most caring lovers, also they are covered in live snakes so there is that.

Night's Cavalry:

If you like goth knights I'm sure they'd be fine.

Onyx Lord:

Their skin probably feels like stone, but I bet they can pull off all sorts of freaky zero-g sex stuff if you ask them.

Alabaster Lord:

Same as the Onyx Lord but slightly more goth.

Fell Twins:

Once you get past the horns and stuff I bet the Omens are actually pretty good in bed, just watch out.

Demi-Human Queens:

I feel like all Demi-humans are pretty good lovers but their biology probably has some unexpected drawbacks.

Stonedigger Troll:

If you can get past the texture and the size I bet they could be decent in bed.

Flying Dragon Greyll:

A surprisingly unsexy dragon, but a dragon is a dragon and still worth at least a one night stand.

Glintstone Dragon Adula:

A dragon willing to kill racist magic users, earns them a few extra points.

Beastman of Farum Azula:

On one hand the Beastmen probably have crazy mating skills, but they are also zombies, which detracts some points for all the decay.

Battlemage Hugues:

Contrary to popular belief, Wizards are not very good at sex. They spend all their time studying instead of partying, at least Hugues is willing to get his hands dirty.

Commander O'Neil:

Seems like a decent guy, but probably won't shut up about his time in the military. Also he is infected with scarlet rot so that might be a mood killer.

Bloodhound Knight Darriwil:

The bloodhound knights are probably pretty wild in bed if you can earn their loyalty, but good luck with that.

Adan, Thief of Fire:

The dude committed heresy, that has to earn him some sexy points.

Soldier of Godrick:

He's a good boy, he's doing his job so throw him a bone.

Flying Dragon Agheel:

One of the first dragons you encounter, so he earns some points for style.

Demi-Human Chief:

Same as the queens, but probably a bit rougher in bed.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Lichdragon Fortissax:

A much sexier dragon, you know they were hooking up with Godwin. Only loses some points for all the death rot.

Crucible Knight Siluria:

A bit gloomy, but I bet the crucible knights can do all sorts of freaky stuff with their animal body parts.

Mimic Tear:

A slippery liquid shapeshifter, need I say more?

Commander Niall:

A way better guy than O'Niel, plus he just a bit more daddy energy.

Fire Giant:

Once you get past his size, his sadness and the giant fell god of destruction in his chest, I bet he's got something going on.

Ancient Hero of Zamor:

Gives me Hercules/Amazonian vibes, I could be into it.

Cleanrot Knight:

Lesbian activities detected.

Crucible Knight:

These guys have tails, horns, wings and big old throat sacks. Imagine the possibilities.

Glintstone Dragon Smarag:

Has a sword. If you hear "Dragon holding a sword" and your pants aren't already off, we can't be friends.

Bols, Carian Knight:

He seems like a good boy.

Scaly Misbegotten:

I feel like the Misbegotten have some really interesting possibilities with their animal biology. I bet they have bonobo type societies and that could be fun.

Leonine Misbegotten:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Misbegotten Warrior:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Crucible Knight Ordovis:

Has all the desirable traits of a Crucible Knight but I also imagine they are super into threesomes.

Perfumer Tricia:

She seems really nice, and would be a super attentive lover. Plus she probably has access to crazy drugs and could hook you up.

Nox Swordstress & Nox Priest:

You just know that the Nox were getting up to crazy hot and crazy unethical experiments in their underground cities. These two probably get up to some wild shit and they are inviting you to join them.

Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon:

As she is now, I bet she'd be too sad to really be in a relationship again. But she kept up with Radagon and you just know she has some tricks up her sleeves that could make you abandon the golden order.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Dragonlord Placidusax:

Has two male heads and three female heads, imagine...

Ancient Dragon Lansseax:

Formed a whole freaky dragon/human cult and you just know they got into some eyes-wide-shut orgies behind those doors.

Godfrey, First Elden Lord (Hoarah Loux):

We all knew he'd be this high on the list. He was just a normal dude but he managed to keep pace with Queen Marika (Who is basically a goddess of fertility) for a good long while. He will fold you in half (on the battlefield and in the bedroom.)

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Radagon of the Golden Order:

He sucks in all the worst ways, but I mean... You can't NOT. Both Radagon and Marika are the embodiment of evil but they managed to suck and fuck their way across an entire continent for generations. You HAVE to give a try at least once.

Godskin Duo:

Oh my god will it be awful with all those flayed human skins, but you know you are still gonna have to. They can stretch and do all sorts of freaky stuff with their bodies, plus they kill gods and nothing is sexier than heresy.

Vyke, Knight of the Roundtable:

The dude is a mad killer but... he can still probably get it, might as well give it a try.

God-Devouring Serpent / Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy:

Personally I wouldn't, he's a loser and will probably kill you. But he is also a giant snake made up of squirming hands doing all sorts of sexual experiments, I can't blame you if you want to give it a taste.

Black Knife Assassin:

They committed a whole lot of treason but the power of armored lesbians is too hard to resist.

Patches:

If you are already having sex with from software characters, you gotta give Patches at least one attempt. When you wake up he'll have robbed you, but you knew what you were getting into.

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cameronspecial · 7 months

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Let Me Strip, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Genitalia and Removal of Clothes

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Some drunken games are ones that Y/N really doesn't want to have to clean up after.

Masterlist

How does Y/N know her boyfriend is way too drunk right now? He calls a frat wide hour strip game to order. It doesn’t help that his groupies are encouraging his behaviour. She isn’t jealous of them because she trusts Rafe and knows how much he loves her, but she knows how this game is going to end. Every hour the boys in the fraternity remove one article of clothing of Rafe’s choice until she has to chase after one of the boys to stop him from streaking down a street that should be kept family-friendly. As much as she loves seeing his chiselled abs, she does not want to have to do that again.

The only person that can call off the game is the frat president. “Rafe, can you please call the game off? Some of the boys already have three strikes and will be expelled if they are arrested for streaking,” Y/N begs, trying to take the solo cup out of his hand. He looks at her with loving eyes and gives her neck kisses, “Come on, let me strip, Angel. It’s just a fun little game.” She rolls her eyes at him trying to butter her up with kisses. “Rafey, it’s twelve o’clock. Time to take off your pants,” Beatrice interrupts, flashing her lock screen with the time on it to him. Rafe drunkenly nods his head and tries to pull down his pants. Rafe yells, “Alpha Epsilon Pi! Pants.”

Y/N sighs at the action, helping him unbutton his pants so he can take them off. One problem at the time and streaking is a much bigger problem than a pantless boyfriend. At least they still have both socks to take off first. He cheers like a toddler when he finally gets his pants off. “I want you to wear my pants like a scarf, Angel. Show the boys who you belong to,” he slurs out the demand, wrapping his khaki around her neck. She just shakes her head and unwraps the pants from her neck. She is already sweating with his t-shirt and flannel on. “You know last time you played this game, I chased a naked Topper down the street and had to tackle him. Do you really want me to be that close to his bare dick, again?” she leverages, twirling his pants’ leg in a circle. This news causes Rafe to stop in his tracks; he has totally forgotten that fact.

He sobers up quickly, “You’re right, I don’t want that. I’ll call the game off.” His pout absolutely kills Y/N because she hates to see him sad. “You can keep the game going with the socks but you have to stop at the boxers. Deal?” she offers, ghosting their fingertips together and stepping closer to him. His expression quickly turns to a grin, “Deal. You are the best girlfriend ever, Angel. I love you!” He gives her a quick peck on the lips and runs off screaming how amazing she is to the overcrowded party. She lets out a giggle at her boyfriend’s childishness and heads upstairs to get rid of some of the clothes that are causing her to overheat.

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pinkslaystation · 22 days

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[Part 3] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 hehehe enjoy ;> Word Count: 5k trigger warning: drugging. viewer discretion is adviced.

Dating Simon reminded you of the British economy, constant fluctuations.

He would stay over at your flat, shower you with wet kisses, and the next day he'd walk right past you as if you didn't exist.

It felt like at times Simon did really love you. He listened you to, he brushed and plaited your hair post sex, but sometimes it's like his brain would switch and his behaviour would mimic that of a ghost.

Though it been nearly 3 months since he'd popped that question in the car, you often found yourself regretting your decision.

"I do like him...but I mean- it's just, he doesn't like me back you know? Sometimes I wake up and he's just staring at me like I've just told him I've killed his dog. I mean, he doesn't have a dog I don't think, but if he did, he'd prefer the dog over me, y'know.

I don't even know why I said yes that day. I mean, he's the first real guy that's actually shown interest in me. Maybe that's why I crave his attention so much. He makes me actually enjoy being with my family, if that's so hard to believ-"

"With all due disrespect, d'ya know you?" Your neighbour answers finally.

You stare back, blood rushing to your face, "I literally live next door to you. I smile at you before I leave for work every morning-"

"So, there's nothing wrong with your face?

"What? You know me- and I'm talking about Simon, he's next door to me too..."

"What?"

"You know skull face..."

"Who?"

"Tall buff dude, y'know."

"Huh?

"Riley-"

"Oh, the guy with the big dick."

You choke on your saliva, "What- How? Um..."

"Military dude yeah? The fit blonde? Yeah, he's big, if you get what I'm saying, virgin."

You furrow your eyebrows, words trailing off, "No I'm not...I'm sorry, how'd you know..."

"Yeah, he's fucked like everyone in this building, girl. Why d'ya think he doesn't come to the flat meetings? 'Cos then he'd be surrounded by all the people he's stuck his dick in, duh." She states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Guy comes in, drinks a bit, and runs out."

"...I thought it was because he was nervous to see....me?" At this point, you don't know if you're telling your neighbour or asking her.

"Oh girl don't be delusional, you ain't no Beyonce. Anyway, been a while since I got that dick. Let 'im know next time you see 'im." She winks at you before, hobbling off with her walking stick.

"Yeah...sure...wait- Mrs Brenda, you're like 65... AND MARRIED-"

When the 3rd month anniversary mark finally reached, Simon decided to treat you to an expensive meal at a luxurious restaurant.

And by that I mean, 6 McNuggets at Maccies.

"They're cold, babe." He complains, slouching across you, one leg bent and propped on his seat.

Yes, Simon. Because you spent 15 minutes arguing with the worker for an extra packet of mayo. But you refrained yourself from saying that, in case you'd anger him further.

"So how's the task force?"

You've learnt very little about Simon, one part that stuck out to you was that the people he was closest to was his team in the military, naming his Captain John Price, who seemed to pop up in every conversation the two of you had.

"You got that 'lil mustache on yer face again."

"Excuse me?"

"Nah babe, it's cute. Reminds me of Captain's."

It hurt even more when he showed you a picture of John Price and you're face to face with a middle aged man with a full grown beard, who's being compared to the peach fuzz on your upper lip.

"Team's good." He sighs out of exhaustion. "Soap's engaged now, y'know."

You smile, mind suddenly racing to the thought of Simon proposing to you, but you shake it away, oddly cringing at the thought.

"'Old man's thinking of getting transferred to the States. Finally..."

The thought of Simon being jealous over his Captain was always a hidden theory for you. He'd mention it so frequently, it was as if he was keeping tabs on his superior, bringing it up at every moment at his signs of weakness. And when he'd compare Price to you, it was never in a positive light, rather one where it felt like he was looking down at Price, but through you.

You wondered if Simon had a superiority complex, and maybe that's why he'd chosen a little naive lamb like you, to project all of his insecurities onto you.

I mean, you're not gonna do anything about it are you? Nah, you're gonna take it like the good little girl you are.

I mean you are right now- literally.

His dick is cramped right in your pussy, his rounded tip rapidly kissing at your cervix. His chapped lips crash against yours, but you can't seem to ignore the faint taste of his Big Mac through his mouth.

"Can tell your cunt likes that, 'lil slut." He seethes out, through inconsistent breaths. You can barely hear him, through the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding and the ringing through your head.

You hum uncomfortably. It was gonna be a long night.

The following weekend, you find yourself spending eons getting dolled up for a get together at the base. You decorated your face with a bold smokey eye, paired with a lined red lip, only to be mocked by Simon.

"Red? We're going to base, not the circus."

So you take off the lipstick. And the eye makeup. In fact, even when you changed from a tight black pencil skirt to a matching sweatshirt and joggers combination, you still find yourself being berated by Simon.

"Getting kinda lazy with the clothes huh, love?" He asks, cocking his eyebrows towards you.

Is he for real?

Grunting in response, you look out the window, shoving your headphones in, grateful for the noise cancelling feature so you wouldn't have to sit through Simon's mouth breathing throughout the journey.

The meeting itself was as awkward as imagined. The moment the pair of you entered the room, Simon decided to detach his arm wrapped around your shoulder and immediately brisk walk to the nearest woman possible. If he was trying to fool his team to thinking he was single...boy was he good at it.

Being left out in an unfamiliar space was unfortunately not too foreign for you, and you quickly found solace by the water fountain, sipping on a plastic cup of lukewarm water.

"Bored, eh?"

You jump, having zoned out.

You turn to a man you've seen oh so many times on Simon's phone.

"Captain John Price?" You smile.

"The one and only, lass. My, a pair of sweatpants. Priorising comfort, are we?" He jokes, lightly.

"Were you expecting lingerie?"

"Pretty either way." He chuckles, and you eye the way his eyes squint as he smiles, and the smile lines painting his cheeks. You shouldn't be looking at your boyfriend's competition captain this way.

You're at peace with John. You find yourself opening up about yourself, something you now know you couldn't truly do around Simon. John cared about what you said, reacting to every joke you dropped here and there, unlike Simon, who plays connect the dots with your forehead blemishes as you rant passionately.

John chuckles, "Oh God. Work sounds intense."

You hum, admiring his laughter, which cuts off to the sound of a loud buzzing (buttplug?) coming from his back pocket. He excuses himself from the conversation, but you can't help but eavesdrop.

"John Price speaking. Yes. Uh huh-what? Another soldier? Same substance? Christ's sake...Doctor's got a name? Succiny- Succinylc- what? Okay, okay. I'm coming, gimme 20 minutes-what, now? I'm...busy" He turns to flash you a small smile, "Okay, fine. Dammit."

"You okay, seemed urgent?"

He dramatically sighs, "We both got work problems...There's been a...how do i say this...another one of our soldiers have been getting drugged?" It sounds more of a question than an answer, "We think it's some sort of new drug on the black market, and now that our enemy's have a hold of it, our soldiers...fuck, getting drugged left, right and centr- Sorry, um, unauthorized information..." He trails off, realising he's said too much.

You're ears perk up, "Drugs? What are the um, symptoms?" You can't help but be curious.

John looks around, as if to check if anyone was listening to the conversation, though most people are hammered on hardcore liquor and cigarettes. He lowers his voice, "Starts off with headaches, nausea, then there's seizures...worst case scenario is paralysis. Gotten 4 of our soldiers already, poor men, had to be medically dismissed...."

You hum, silently and unsure of what to reply with. If you were attempting to flirt with John, the mood had definitely dissipated.

"But hey, listen. You ever need a change of pace, a better job, you can call me." He grabs your hand, and messily writes his phone number with a biro, winking before he leaves.

Maybe you will call him.

As the sky becomes darker and the clock strikes past 9 P.M., you find yourself walking outside the building, searching for Simon.

"...annoying."

Huh? You peer over the corner to overhear the conversation. Was that Simon?

"..follows me around a sad 'lil shit."

Was he talking about you?

You catch a quick glance, confirming that it was indeed a drunk Simon, with who you believe was Soap.

"Her mum's hotter, too. All over me." Simon boasts, whipping out his phone, presumably to show them a picture of your mother, as it sparks a 'milf alert' comment from Soap.

"...nothing compared to her. She's like a doormat."

You look at Simon, and for a second, you swear he made deliberate eye contact with you.

"She's fuckin' spineless."

For a moment, time pauses.

...

Spineless.

You're spineless.

I mean, it may be true. But the truth doesn't always have to come out, no?

After doing so much for this man, you'e still...spineless?

Laying at the comfort of your bed, dragging a tipsy Simon out of the car and him rushing to his flat, you find yourself gazing down at the smudged ink on your palm. Maybe it's time to switch your job.

Who knows who you'll run into...

That night, you rest, dreaming about John Price.

You're in an abyss in your dreams, John's pale muscular arms wrap around your frame, with the faint scent of cigars and whisky wafting around your nose. You blink and you see the bottom of his groomed beard, and small smile resting on his tired face.

You blink once more. But this time, you don't see John Price. This time, you're staring into the sullen eyes of a skeleton-masked man, lifelessly staring straight at you with no emotion. You look down the body of Simon.

The lower half of his body was missing.

By the third blink, you jolt awake and look around, but this time you're on the floor wrapped in your quilt and covered in sweat. Very much alone.

What was this dream trying to tell you?

The jump from retail to cyber-operations was large and challenging. You went from serving customers to quite literally serving the country, from scanning items to defending the weapon's system. But 2 weeks into your new career and you feel like you've actually put your degree to some use.

Your family have been ringing you almost weekly, asking about your new position, although it's mainly your mother interrogating you about Simon.

And to say he was upset with your choice of working with the army, was an understatement, in his words, he felt like you were crowding him in all areas of his life. His home, his workplace, and now his mind.

You'd ask him to drop you off, considering he's going the same way, but he'd come up with unjustified excuses.

"Can't. Need to be there early."

"Nah, gonna distract me, love."

"Can't be seen with you." He mutters the last one, but you're not deaf and Simon can't exactly whisper very well. Sometimes you wonder why you haven't broken up with him.

So you've resorted to the next option.

Public transport. Calling John Price.

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. Who's been tellin' you that?"

You subordinate <3 But you can't say that, so you resort to casually laughing at his question. You can't help but think about the reoccurring dream you've been having, they always start the same.

You're in a abyss, and you're in the arms of John Price, you blink and suddenly face to face with the half-corpse of Simon. You're struggling to work out the deeper message of the visio-

"Love, you there? Went to lala-land or something?"

Think about John Price. Focus on him, why are you still bound to that jerk? You think.

"I'm good. So uh, how's the situation with you? And the um...drugs thing?" You look at him, your words surprising yourself, since when did you have an interest in drugs?

"Oh, uh. We're not allowed to disclose that sweetheart...besides, Simon didn't tell you? Kinda big thing here..."

Of course, Simon wouldn't tell me, why would he? You tell me, John.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, eyebrows knitting together, "Oh..."

He runs his thick fingers through his brunette hair, adjusting himself in his seat, "Succinylcholine. There's a mixture, but that's the main component. Causes paralysis to the legs and spine...seems like that's what they wanted, to paralyse our soldiers, 7th victim this we..."

Paralysis huh. You turn to look at the passing trees outside the windows. Paralysis to the spine and legs...

By the time you reach work, you're at your computer by your desk, typing away at the lines of code on your programme, once again eavesdropping to the conversations in your vicinity.

"...it's the same location they keep getting deployed, why are they getting deployed there again?"

"Captain Price is going this time..."

"...2nd guy's in a coma now..."

The chatter dies down to the loud slam of the door: Your supervisor.

"People. Come on. Chop chop, we have deadlines to meet. Stop the chatter, fucks sake."

You get back to your screen, but you can't help but shake the unsettling feeling off your mind.

Ding!

11:26 A.M. Si:- Come outside on your break. Need to talk.

I guess you're finally breaking up.

"Getting deployed."

Simon's scarred hands caress yours, gently lifting your ring finger and slotting a shiny silver ring, with a skull stuck in the center. You think back to the times where you told Simon that you preferred gold jewelry over silver, since it complimented your skin tone better. To love is to be seen I guess.

A crowd of soldiers begin whistling at the scene, and Simon retracts his hands almost instantaneously.

"Wanted to give this to you for anniversary...but I ordered it a little late."

You hum, immediately twisting the ring around your ring. It's tight and cramped.

"How's work?" He asks, his eyes roaming around the people behind you, his gaze not falling on you once since the conversation had started.

"Oh it's goo-"

"Cool. So um, here's my key if you need something." He hands you his key, more like shoving it into your chest, before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead and running off towards the crowd of soldiers that were now practicing drills.

Seems like you've gotten promoted from girlfriend to house-keeper.

By 8 P.M., you and a handful of your colleagues began to go home.

With your 4th cup of caffeine in your hand, you check Simon's text once more.

7:52 P.M. Si:- What time u finish Si:- 8? Si:- Too long to wait, going home

He couldn't wait 8 minutes?

As you trudge past the empty hallway, you're met face to face with the door of the lab, which you notice was half open.

You felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland. Trespassing is a crime, is it not?

A normal person would just inform a staff member and go home right? Definitely wouldn't enter the room. And definitely wouldn't head straight towards the counter that held various labelled test tubes.

Definitely wouldn't snatch a test tube labelled danger, and most definitely stuff it in their bag and run out the door, as if they haven't basically committed a crime.

But it's a good thing you wouldn't consider yourself a normal person.

The wind blows against your skin when you finally make it outside, and it feels like natures punishing you for breaking into the army's laboratory. With your bag clutched tightly against your chest, your mind begins racing - what if someone saw you? What about cameras? What if-

"There you are love. Thought I'd have to come 'n get you myself."

John leans against his range rover, wrapping his large military jacket around your shoulders, and you instantly lean into his towering frame.

"John...didn't you go home?"

He shakes his head. "Saw Simon speeding off the moment we finished, thought you needed a ride, especially at this time."

The wind blows against you again, and your smile falters, remembering the contents of your bag.

"Can we go home now? Please?"

A comforting silence accompanied the drive, with John's palm ghosting your thigh ever so slightly and you had to resist every urge in your body to just lock hands with him.

So you do.

His large hand encompassing yours completely. If his grin could widen anymore, they just did, and you swear you could see faint dimples decorating his cheeks.

But they fall just as quickly, jerking his hand back.

"Nice ring."

You're visibly confused, eyes dragging back to the tight skull band wrapped around your ring finger.

Fuck you, Simon.

When you exit John's car at the entrance of the block of flats, your eyes catch another deep brown pair of menacing eyes, standing at the balcony, hiding behind a black balaclava. You can't see the lower portion of the face, but you'd bet your life that there was a smirk hidden behind the cloth.

You grit your teeth, tossing the ring by the nearest bush as the car drives off. The grip around your bag tightens, and you remember the test tube.

If you're going to ruin my chances of love, I'll ruin your chances of life, Simon Riley.

A week later and the test tube lay aimlessly on your bedside time, alongside a small post card gifted yesterday from your truly. John Price, that is, not Simon.

Leaving soon - If I find something you like, I'll bring it for you :-D - J Price

Even the way he drew his little smiley faces warmed you.

On the other hand, Simon had shot you a single text, ignoring all the spelling mistakes.

Si:- bee home ina mont. by.

When he gets home, you're immediately breaking up with him, assigning yourself mental homework.

But for the meanwhile, you have to decide what to do with the test tube...for now you decide it's too risky to keep it at home, who knows if the wrong people get their hands on it.

So you opt to shoving into deep into your purse.

At work, as you walk back to your team's common room, you hear the commotion coming from the...laboratory?

"Doctor, how careless are you?"

"Sir...I-I-I didn't do anything! The lab was locked, I don't know who would have taken it-"

"And how are we sure you haven't stolen it? I mean for all we know, you might have the drug at home. How do we know you're a traitor and working for the other side. I should have you reported."

"Boss, you've known me for the longest! And why don't you stop shouting me and get these cameras fixed already-"

"Captain Price's gonna flip and fire his entire team when he comes back-"

"If he comes back that is-"

"Boy if you don't shut your mout-"

Scurrying to the common room, you shut the door abruptly. You don't why you stole the drug, but you do know you can't let anyone find out about what you did.

Not Simon.

Not John.

A month had nearly gone by, and a train of gifts has began coming, from small affirmation notes to bags of lego flower bouquets and teddy bears. All of course, accompanied by a small note with the signature smiley face :-D.

Considering the notes weren't hand written, you couldn't tell whether it was from Simon or John, though it was quite obvious. Even though you liked John, you couldn't help but feel some sort of sorrow towards Simon. I mean, who else does he have apart from you?

On a dark Friday evening while you and your team were getting ready to leave, the sound of shouting followed by stampede coursed through the hallway. Screams of terror broke from whom you made out to be doctors and nurses.

"What's happening?" You turn to your coworker.

"More people have gotten drugged, like 7 this time..."

You couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt washing over you, considering a sample of the weapon of the crime was quite literally concealed with your belongings.

"Oh -"

"Apparently, Captain Price and Liutentant Riley were involved."

That was enough to strike a nerve. You don't know which name hit you harder, but before your colleague could even stop you, you began sprinting down the hallway towards the hospital rooms.

By the time you reach though, it's already too late, and the doors have shut, the nurse informing you that surgeries have already begun undergoing. But for who, they didn't disclose.

It didn't matter who it was, you just had a reoccurring thought that if maybe you had left the sample alone, maybe a curve could have already been developed.

Oh God, this is your fault isn't it....?

A person's going to die in your hands, and you're not even a soldier.

With discomfort running through your nerves, you sit by the hospital rooms, your hands feeling heavy under the weight of your head, waiting to hear more from the nurses. But as they rush in and out of the room with urgency, your voice gradually drowns out by the monotonous beeping of the machines inside.

4 hours go by, and you can't tell if it from the lack of sleep or not, but the staff around you shoot you looks of pity as if you're in critical condition. Those hours in the waiting room felt like hell, and you couldn't help but notice the lack security in the building. No cameras again, huh?

"Nurse, is John Price in there?" You ask wearily, the strain in your voice was evident.

The nurse shakes her head, "It's Lieutenant Riley."

Your breath hitches, and unfortunately you can't help but a slight feeling of relief.

"Is he okay? Was he...drugged?"

The nurse clenches her jaw, "That information can't be disclos-"

"He's my boyfriend." You urge, standing up to meet the nurse eye to eye.

The palpable tension in the air was uncomfortable and pervasive, hanging over the room like a heavy fog, and the nurse eventually breaks, slowly opening the door to what looked like a corpse.

"No traces of the drugs were found in his body, but there's no way to really say in the early stages...He is displaying some symptoms however..." She reads off a clipboard.

You nod, though her words aren't really getting to your head, "Like...paralysis?" There's no movement from the bed, just the constant ringing from the machines.

The nurse pauses, "No. Headaches, and muscle pain, just the regular. Bullet shot in the shoulder, but that's been taken care off. We're still monitoring him. I'll be outside if you need anything." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind you. And you find yourself alone with Simon's corpse.

Simon's face looks like broken china, like fine art but damaged externally, yet still holding the essence of its beauty within. His features, usually composed and serene, now bore the cracks of strain and worry. His under eyes were now darker than ever, and you couldn't help but press your now tear soaked lips across his rough cheek, until you stopped.

His neck, though scarred, bore scattered red marks, which you know could be confused with a rash. But it wasn't.

They were hickies.

Fresh hickies.

It's been a month since you've last seen Simon, so you immediately rule out yourself, disregarding the fact that you haven't even been intimate with anyone in a while.

As you sit beside the bed, a surge of anger rises within you, fueled by the betrayal and disappointment coursing through your veins. You want nothing more than to confront Simon, to unleash a torrent of accusatory questions upon him, but you know it would be futile.

His chest rises and falls gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you.

The situations looks like that particular scene straight from your dreams. Dark room, alone with Simon, him laying there still.

His body is still intact, you think. Intact and littered with marks.

You try to recall what happens in the dreams after this, but you always wake up at the last second.

And you can't help but inch your hand towards your purse., the outline of the test tube screaming at you to finally use it.

Use it for the reason you had originally stolen it for.

Use me.

Drug him. It screams. It's not like he ever loved you? Francesca, remember her? The other women? Your own mother, your own flesh and blood? Think about the times he forgot your anniversary, your birthday, when he insulted you, in front of you, in front of others, hell, even behind your back! You're spineless remember.

I mean you'd be doing the world a favour, getting rid of this from this world, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you.

John Price would be proud of you wouldn't he?

He finally be with you.

With a steady hand, you reached into your purse and retrieved the test tube, its contents glinting in the dim light of the hospital room. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before steeling yourself and uncapping the tube.

The acrid scent of the drug filled the air, its toxic fumes making you gag slightly. But you pushed past the discomfort, focusing all your attention on the task at hand. With precision, you extracted the entire liquid from the tube and carefully poured it into Simon's IV drip, mentally wincing at how effortlessly you had manipulated the situation.

You have to get rid of the drug somehow, and if it means using it against him, then so be it.

The next morning had come and you're awaken by the phone buzzing by your bedside table, the screen lighting up with John's name. You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you finally answer, steeling yourself for whatever news awaits you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Your voice comes out strained, betraying the anxiety churning within you.

"Hey angel, it's me," John's voice crackles through the phone, the urgency in his tone palpable. "You need to come to the hospital. It's Simon."

Without a word, you hang up the phone and hail a cab, the journey to the hospital passing in a blur of anxious thoughts and racing heartbeat. Did they find out you stole the drugs? No...how could they? The empty test tube is in your bin, at home, not at the hospital and there's no cameras at you recall...

Arriving at the hospital, you're met with a scene of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses bustle about, their faces tense with worry. You navigate through the maze of corridors, the familiar scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, you reach Simon's bedside, and what you see makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Simon manually lies propped up against the pillows, his face pale and drawn, his body racked with violent tremors as he retches into a basin. The sight is enough to make you physically ill, although it slowly dissipates, seeing the now purple marks on his necks darkening.

John appears beside you, and without a word, he takes your hand in his, his grip steady and reassuring, pressing a small kiss at the side of your head. In that fleeting moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

"I'll be outside," he mumbles, leaving with you with Simon.

With a heavy heart, you take a seat beside him. Simon looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion. It takes all your strength to meet his gaze, the truth burning like acid on your tongue.

"Hey." He groans out. He can barely move, as his head painfully cranes to look at you, the effects of the drugs taking effect slowly.

"What happened." But it's more of a demand than a question.

Simon sniffs, "Traces of drugs..."

"No. I meant your neck."

He pauses, like he was trying to carefully choose his words, though he didn't have much of a escape now.

"Don't act like I see you and Price-"

"Don't bring him into this, Simon."

Don't lie to me anymore.

A tear rolls down his cheek, but you can't tell if it's crocodile tears or not.

"They-they... dismissed me."

You hum, a smirk gradually building up on your face.

"Why?"

Simon closes his eyes, "Back. My spine. Can't move it..."

You let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

"I know." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you. "I drugged you."

Simon's eyes wince once again, studying your face silently.

"Excuse me?" He begins.

You stand up, placing your purse back on your shoulder.

"What- what do you mean? You he-heard me? Love. Listen to me-"

You walk towards the door.

"WAIT. Wait. What do you mean you knew? You said you knew. What. What did you do. Sweetheart. Come back. Let's talk. You love me don't you? I love you! Where's that ring I gave you?"

You laugh, twisting the door handle.

"Baby, you better not fuckin' leav- THEY'LL FIND OUT-"

"And who's going to believe a damaged, deluded man, Simon Riley? You were out on a mission, I'll pin the blame on the enemies."

Simon shakes in his bed, unable to control any part of his body now. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME- HOW FUCKIN' DARE YOU- After that life I gave you-"

"Life? You call that living?"

"I LOVED YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID-" His voice is painfully loud now, you're wondering how no one's running to his room already.

"Love? You don't know one thing about love, you fucker."

"I should have never fucked you, you- YOU BITCH-" He shouts, his body flailing violently, globes of tears racing down his clenched jaw and red cheeks.

"Rot in hell Simon Riley, I guess we're both fucking spineless now."

And that's a wrap for this mini seriesss - thank all of you for sticking around ;D IM AWARE IT TOOK SO LONG- I KEPT WRITING IT AND FOR SOME REASON IT DIDN'T AUTOSAVE LIKE TWICE??? SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT- Quick Notes: Let's all be real. We wanted reader to get with ol' john boy. But let's also be for real, if Reader was an object, she'd be a doormat. Although I've implied John Price x You, the bitch really needs to focus on herself and sort her shit out right now 💀 in the near future they're together for sure. ALSO the reference of drugs is highly inaccurate but let's all switch our imaginations on <3 lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyyysho3s

#call of duty #cod #ghost angst #ghost #simon riley #john price #ghost cod #ghost x reader #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon angst #simon ghost riley

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naivegh0ul · 7 months

Text

For Evangelionarc! (plus a bit of fanart that inspired me to finish this)

(warnings: smut, masc reader, non-consensual voyeurism, handjobs, dub-con)

(word count: 1,660)

If Ghost found out you were doing this, he'd probably kill you. He'd definitely kill you. Strangle you with his bare hands. Those massive, sexy hands with his calloused palms-

You're pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Ghost groaning. Right, you remember where you are. You're in Ghost's closet, phone in hand as you record the delicious moans coming from Ghost as he touches himself.

You can hear the slick sound of his hand moving up and down and you watch as he flicks the tip of his cock, his body jolting and eyes widening beneath his mask as he moans loudly.

What you wouldn't give to wrap your mouth around him. You've seen his dick before, in passing glances in the shower room, or that one time in Berlin where Ghost's fatigues caught on fire and he had to discard everything from the waist down.

It would've been funny, if not for the fact that you couldn't stop staring at Ghost's dick. That man is hung, fat and long, heavy balls, a gorgeous happy trail leading down to thick pubic hair.

You can see those things through the slats of Ghost's closet door, you can see the way Ghost's head falls back against his pillow as his hips fuck up into his hand, his fingers sticky and covered in precum.

"Fuck. Yes, just like that." Ghost groans, clearly in the middle of a fantasy. You wonder who's he thinking about when your phone suddenly slips out of your hand, clattering to the floor.

Ghost shoots up in bed, grabbing his knife off the nightstand with his wet hand and storming over to his closet. The door swings open and Ghost yanks you out by the collar, pressing his knife to your throat.

You half expect him to just slit your throat right then and there. Leave you to bleed out in the middle of his room. But he doesn't. He pulls the knife away from your throat, still gripping your collar tightly, and he slams you against the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ghost growls. You swallow nervously at the sharp weapon near your throat, along with the fact that Ghost's hand, covered in lube and his precum, is so close to your face. You feel something touch your leg and when you glance down quickly, you see that Ghost's cock is still out of his trousers. And he's still hard.

You splutter out a weak apology but Ghost silences you by moving his hand from the collar of your shirt to your neck, squeezing roughly as he pulls you back and bashes you against the wall again.

"Fuckin' freak. You like this, don't you?" Ghost pulls you back from the wall and stands in front of you menacingly, his arms crossed over his chest as he glares at you.

"Strip. Now." Ghost commands as he gives his cock a few rough tugs, watching you undress for him. He smirks once you're naked, your body on show for him to see.

Ghost shoves you in the direction of his bed, stalking over to you as you stumble backwards and fall onto Ghost's mattress. You watch his cock twitch at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed, eyes wide with fear (and arousal), your cock leaking precum where it rests on your thigh.

"Slag." Ghost spits. Instead of walking towards you like you thought he would, he walks over to his closet and grabs your phone that you dropped. He types in your password (which you have no clue how he knows) and scoffs out a laugh at what he sees.

"This is what gets you off, eh? Filmin' people without their knowledge." Ghost walks back over to you rather leisurely, scrolling through your camera roll and finding hundreds of pictures of himself in various positions.

Sleeping, eating, working out, showering. The sleeping photos disturb him the most and he tosses your phone at you, not caring if it hits you or cracks. He climbs into the bed, crawling on top of you as his heavy cock brushes yours, making you shiver. He sits himself on your lap, his thick thighs encompassing yours and the weight of his body holding you down.

Ghost stares down at you, his arms crossed over his chest. He seems angry, but it's hard to tell with his mask on. Suddenly, your head is whipping to the side as Ghost delivers a harsh slap to your cheek.

You groan, reaching a hand up to rub the red mark on your cheek. Ghost grabs your hand before you can do anything, lifting it above your head along with your other hand as he holds them down. Ghost's hand not pinning your arms down slaps your face again, another groan escaping you as your cock twitches against Ghost's.

Ghost raises his hand again and you shut your eyes in anticipation, expecting to be hit again but no hit ever comes. You open your eyes, peering up at Ghost to see him staring right back at you, his hand over his cock. He grasps your cock and his in his fist, giving them a firm stroke.

Your back arches as you moan, the feeling of Ghost's calloused palm squeezing your aching cock against his has you squirming in Ghost's hold, thighs twitching as Ghost strokes the two of you roughly.

Ghost seems unaffected, his eyes staring down at you lazily. It only fuels your arousal more, the sight of Ghost looking so bored, as if this is a chore for him and he wasn't the one who wrapped his big hand around the both of you.

His strokes speed up, similar to how he was stroking himself when you were watching from the closet. Clearly, Ghost likes it fast and rough as he squishes your cock against his and jerks his hand up and down quickly, making you cry out and arch your back once more.

You attempt to get Ghost to slow down, struggling in his hold and bucking your hips, trying to squirm away but you only end up fucking into Ghost's fist, rubbing your tip along Ghost's shaft.

"Ple-please," You breathe, thighs twitching as you moan and look up at Ghost with pleading eyes, his emotionless ones gazing right back at you. "Slow- mmm, slow down, I- I can't... too fast." Your words come out jumbled, sentences unfinished.

"Shut up." Ghost hisses, speeding up his strokes even more just to be cruel. Tears form in your eyes, the intense sensations proving to be too much for your sensitive cock. You try to plead with Ghost again, begging him to slow down.

Your begging annoys Ghost, you can tell by the way his left eye twitches beneath his mask and his fist tightens around you two. You cry out, Ghost's grasp on your poor cock is bordering on painful. "Please, please, I'm s-sorry! I, ah, I won't do it a-again."

A huff can be heard from Ghost at your words, he obviously doesn't believe you. "Lyin' little shit." He growls, leaning down to shut you up forcefully. His lips press against yours through the fabric, the cotton of his mask sticking to your wet lips.

The kiss is rough and intense, and Ghost's tongue tries to slip into your mouth, forgetting about the barrier blocking your mouth from his. Ghost quickly tugs his mask up to his nose, revealing a strong jaw and plush, slightly chapped lips.

You don't get a lot of time to admire that part of his face before his lips are on you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. His tongue licks inside, tasting you as he grinds his hips forward, his tip bumping yours and leaking precum over it.

Ghost moans into your mouth and lets go of your hands to cup your jaw intimately, his thumb rubbing over your jawline as he fucks into his fist and kisses you with fervour.

"Close." Ghost murmurs. He leans impossibly closer to you, trapping your cock against his between the two of you. You whimper into Ghost's mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on the little tuft of hair peeking out from under Ghost's mask.

Ghost groans at your actions and tightens his fist again, making you whine. "You better cum with me or you're not fuckin' cumming at all." Ghost tells you as he pulls away from the kiss, chuckling as you lean up and try to chase his lips.

"Down, boy." He says mockingly. His lips move to your neck, sucking hickies along the underside of your jaw. All of a sudden, Ghost's teeth are sinking into your neck, marking you with a growl as his cock twitches and spurts his cum over your cock and your stomach.

When Ghost comes down from his high, his eyes looking at yours he sees the need and desperation in them. He glances down, confirming his suspicions. You didn't cum when he did.

"Please, I just need a little bit more, I promise." You say quickly, hands reaching in between you and him to get a hand around yourself. "No. You heard me. You didn't cum, tough shit. Out." Ghost nods towards the door as he sits up, wiping his cum stained hand on a tissue.

You try to plead more, begging Ghost as he moves off his bed and cleans his cock with a towel. "Please, Ghost, just let me touch myself. I'll be quick, I swear."

Ghost shakes his head, grabbing your clothes off the floor from when you took them off earlier and tosses them at you. "Get changed and get out... We'll try again tomorrow." Ghost says softly, seeing your eyes light up at the possibility of doing what you just did again.

"Yes sir." You nod, your tone shows just how excited you are, as if your still-hard cock hanging between your legs doesn't do that.

#masc reader #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #ghost smut

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lord-armitage · 4 months

Text

ASOIAF Characters Ranked of How Likely They Are to Survive A Horror Movie

Robb Stark - 4/10

The likeable, grounded voice of reason comes up with the best strategies but delays things by ignoring Grey Wind's instincts. Will die either as a heroic sacrifice during the climax or at the end of the second act to ramp up the stakes.

Cat Stark - 0/10

Dead before the story began. She's the reason why the Starks decided to have a fresh start in a new town living in that creepy old mansion. Maybe her possessed ghost will enter the story, but she's already gone.

Ned Stark - 1/10

"No, children, this house is definitely not haunted. What you are hearing at the end is just the floorboards settling. There's no such thing are ghosts or monsters. Maybe we should take your direwolves to the vets as they keep barking at nothing during the night?"

Sansa Stark - 5/10

Could go either way with Sansa. She'll either be the girl who dies first if the scriptwriter is a misogynist, or the final girl if not. Either way, she's getting absolutely drenched in blood.

Ayra Stark - 10/10

Of course Ayra surives. There isn't even a question that Ayra Stark won't survive a horror movie.

Daenerys Targaryen - 10/10

Dany is literally the final girl in her own story, so she's the final girl here now. There has literally never been a character created with more final girl energy than Dany.

Tyrion Lannister - 2/10

Gets way too confident in his intellectual ability to defeat the monster. Will have a moment where he thinks he's defeated it by chanting something out of an old book, but doesn't spot check to make sure it's really gone and ends up getting killed.

Jon Snow - 9/10

The quiet one who knew exactly what was happening right from the start because he trusts Ghost's instincts. While everyone else is arguing about the monster being real, he's getting weapons. Fully aware of what genre he's in.

Theon Greyjoy - 0/10

Theon was born to be the drunk frat bro who dies first in a horror movie by doing something insanely stupid, like opening the door for the zombies or thinking that he can fight the monster himself. He would also be a character to purposefully hide his infection/bite/whatever, thus dicking over the other characters.

Asha Greyjoy - 8/10

She knows that she's in a horror film and takes it all in her stride. Most likely character to quip. If she doesn't survive, then she'll be killed in the big climatic action scene at the end, weakening the monster enough so that the last person standing now has a chance to defeat them.

Stannis Baratheon - 0/10

Authority figure who angrily refuses to acknowledge the strange goings on in this town and refuses to do anything about it as "ghosts aren't real." Is one of the first ones to die.

Loras Tyrell - 10/10*

*Loras survives by sheer technicality. Ten years ago he would have been killed for sure but now the writers are worried about being cancelled for using the bury your gays trope, so instead of killing him they write him out of the story so it doesn't technically count.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #Robb Stark #Sansa Stark #Ayra Stark #Daenerys Targaryen #Tyrion Lannister #Theon Greyjoy #Asha Greyjoy #Stannis Baratheon #Loras Tyrell

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adkawariatka · 5 months

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Hi so I am mainly posting my art buuut for a few months I have been thinking about that idea.... You see I am a fan of Danny Phantom fanfiction and have been reading some for almost 2 Years..... I AM not confidend in my abilities as writer especialy that english isn't my first language (for any mistakes sorry). I am especially fan of dcxdp works and I wanted to share:

Because in some concepts ghost are territorial and Jason is somehow touched by death, imagine Danny fleating from ghost Hunters (GIW and his parents) for months and stumbles in his chase into Gotham specify in to crime alley. And there is Jason with some other bats preferably Nightwing and Red Robin in crime alley, meeting over some other case. And then Jason looses himself in The Pit and starts to run somewhere. where? To The place where Danny unaware of The fact that he just crossed line of someone else's territory (because Jason isn't dead but only touched by it and it is hard to sense him especialy for such young ghost as Danny) started to get ready to spend night on some rooftop. So Danny exhausted wounded and sleepy gets hammered by Jason who is in The middle of pit attack over something unalive entering HIS territory. Of course with Dick and Tim hot on his tail and Batman on his way. When Jason starts to attack Danny The present bats of course start to defend him. Meanwhile, Danny Has a melt down over fact that he overstepped on someone else's ground and that super Heroes from Gotham are adamant on making The owner of said ground even angrier at him. And he knows how furious he must be because he wos in his shoes more times that he can count. So he does The only sensible thing. He shouts at The bats to stop and pushes himself before Jason. Making sure he doesn't look in The burning green ice of The other creature he bends his knee. Tuning his head to The right and a little up. So his throat is easly accessible to The other Sharp fangs assuming position generally accepted in Infinite relams as non thretening and humbled. Jason then stops his assalut shocking present heros. Danny takes IT as good sign and starts to talk:

Danny: hello The mighty owner of this ground. I am Phantom, traveler who entered your territory by mistake. I understand your Anger and desire to punish me. My mistake brought you fury and inseciurity for that I am sorry. Please forgive to this humble wayfarer if you wish to penalize me I will gladly accept but please don't be harsh as I am only trying to pass and mean no harm.

Danny isn't first to crossing paths with other relams inhabitants and he learned some culture he is not some rude brat and does knows about Proper apologies. He expects beating or some favour, if The owner does not decide to kill him.... Hopefully. He did stupid mistake after all. He blames concusion and that two days old gun wound. Meanwhile Jason is in shock how this kid in matters of some strange pose and few Words brought him back peace. As are The bats obserwing The scene.

Jason: what did you do?

Danny doesn't lift his gaze. Feeling still some fury and concusion

Danny: I.... -and stops and thinks what he is suppoused to do. Beside stepping on his territory. He wracks his head for other offenses while Jason gets agitated by lack of response

Jason: What did you do!!!!!???

Danny is a little confused but he sees bats starting to creep closer and reading their wepons. Danny is tired and irritated at them. Do they want to get him killed that badly?

Danny: STOP right there! We are in The middle of a negotiations!

Then risks a glance to his listener. He windens his eyes identyfying The creature as touched by death. Someone who died and come back often caused by clinical death but there are sometimes complications. When he focus he can feel all the corrupted ectoplasm in front of him.

Danny: I don't know what you mean touched by death. I know I am trespassing and that you are angry. If you decide what price should I pay.... Do you want a favour? Or... To let out your frustration?

Jason stares dumbfounded and then asks:

What?

Danny: for entering your territory...?

Danny gest a little confused

Jason: what did you called me? What price... Who The hell are you?

Scratch that Danny is totally lost.... As his conversationalist apparently. But he did not survive alone on The run for that long without being a little sly himself. Lifting his head he looks at Jason and allows his own eyes to flash green. He hears curses from bat themed heros.

Danny: Lets do IT that way. I will anwser three of your questions and you will forget about my faults. Do we have a deal?

Jason narrows his eyes and makes a decision this kid knows something about him also Has pit inside him and doesn't wanted to RIP his throat... Yet. He will try. Decides and gives his hand to The kid lifting him up.

Jason:Deal, why did you called me touched by death?

Danny: because at some point you died.... And came back. Its not as rare as you might think. Clinical deaths and all. It happens and leaves permanent Mark on you.

He can see The bats getting closer listening. And even trying to sat something before they get cut off

Jason: How do you know that?

Danny: we can feel it. Inhabitants of Infinite relams have ability to sense others Like themself. Its Like six sense. pretty cool right?

Jason: We as you died too. So you too took bath in lazarus pits. How do you Control pit madness? what are Infinite relams and its inhabitants?

Danny: what? I don't know what this madness or pits are... Infinite relams idą dimension where dead lives on. Its a place that Ghost, old gods, magical creatures and other various beeings calls home.

Jason: do who are you?

Danny grins misheviously and takes view steps back. He now stays closer to The edge of The roof. Thanks to The conversation he could asses The situation and gather his power for escape.

Danny: I am afraid that wos fourth question.... Thanks you for your generosity touched by death. I Hope we will never see each other again.

And then he proceed to jump of The roof. He hears The frantic footsteps and vioces. then flies few alleys away from this territory. He hits The ground hard keeping The invisibility on because he is not stupid to think that its Safe here. His wound got worse. He is hungry cold and hurt badly. He hopes he will survive this.

Soooo that's it. Its only na idea if you want to work on its feel free just let me know if you do because i would love to see what you created. Like i said ealier its my first work, Prompt.... something i don't even know what to call IT😅

#dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost #gotham #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #phandom #fun fiction #writing prompt

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starphasedd · 1 year

Text

Egon

Chapter 2 - Provide

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader)

Rating: 18+ for explicit smut.

Synopsis: Ghost asks you about your past.

Notes: I had every intention of making the beginning of this chapter a slow burn, but then it turned into smut. I have no regrets. I read somewhere that someone was disappointed they didn't see more of Ghost getting his dick sucked. I am here to please. 🥵😉 Ghost making fun of readers southern slang is HILARIOUS and you can't convince me otherwise. I hope you enjoy! Chapter 3?

Word count: 6.7k+

AO3

You were definitely caught off guard the next morning when Ghost had asked you about your experiences in the United States Marine Corp.

—---

When you woke up hours later, your entire body was sore. Your legs and arms ached, your head was pounding and your entire face was congested. Odd–this was something you usually considered when you were out in the field. It was pouring down rain all day yesterday, and it was cold. You got soaked at one point. And the fire you lit did little to warm the old dilapidated shack you were staying in. So naturally, you caught a nasty cold overnight.

As your eyes softly flutter open, you can't see much. It's just before dawn. Dark and foggy, making it almost pitch back. But you can feel the brisk morning air kiss your cheeks. You can hear the frogs croaking outside. Apart from the frogs singing, it's quiet. Peaceful, almost.

You stir gently, trying to stretch your aching bones when something comes to your attention. You're on your side, facing the door. When you lay your arms down, you feel something heavy and bulky slunked over your side. There's no sign of any blankets, but you're warm. You're enveloped in warmth, actually. You can feel something hot and gentle fanning the back of your beck. The bed shuffles and buckles a little in the middle when the weight behind you moves.

It was then, you put two and two together. Ghost is pressed against you, arms around your waist. His crotch is up tight against your ass. The front of his massive thighs are touching the back of yours as he holds you firmly in his grasp. Even in his sleep, he seems protective. You don't think he's awake, judging by the gentle and steady way his chest is rising and falling. His breathing is calm. This was a little unusual for him–you think. In these situations he usually stays up on guard. You almost never got to see him sleep. In fact, you don't think you've ever seen the man sleep, or even close his eyes.

Something warm blossoms in your chest. A feeling you're unfamiliar with. It lights your cheeks up, and brings an involuntary smile to your lips. You're trying hard, really. But something about this mysterious, dangerous, man feeling comfortable enough with you to let his guard down and fall asleep makes your head buzz with excitement. Your face is properly red now as you lay there defenseless in his arms. There's another thought in the back of your head that causes a new reaction, but this time below your waist. You've seen this man hold down and kill some of the strongest warriors in the world. Yet here he is, holding you gently in his grasp. Clinging to you like he hasn't felt another body like yours his entire life–which could be entirely possible.

You start to ache down there again, arousal starting to seep from your cunt and pool in your underwear. Your underwear. Wait, underwear? You suddenly remember; the last thing you did last night was collapse on the bed after he finished inside you. You don't remember cleaning up, or getting dressed. You don't even remember climbing into the bed.

But there's a sweet smell on your skin. Even though the shack you're staying in is old and dilapidated, it doesn't smell bad. Which makes it much easier to smell yourself and him in these close quarters. The smell is familiar, something like lemon and flowers. You take a quiet breath in, trying to debunk it. And then you recognize it. The smell of your hygiene wipes. You glance over at your bag. It's open, with only the bags for your military grade hygiene wipes pulled out and sitting on the floor next to it.

You stare at the bag for a few minutes, completely dumbfounded by the idea that just crossed your mind. Your mouth is open slightly, letting air gently flow in and out. Ghost cleaned you. He cleaned you. He took the time to meticulously wipe you down with your hygiene wipes to ensure you were comfortable. You know what dried seamen feels like. It's awful, it can make any woman feel dirty and uncomfortable. He understood that. The thought is embarrassing honestly. To picture this hulk of a military man spreading your legs to clean you. A woman of your caliber, being cleaned like a child. But it also sparks more adoration for him.

You've seen them both from him now.

Protector.

And provider.

There's something absolutely vile about the way your core instantly starts throbbing at the thought of him caring for you. Something so sweet, coming from a man people thought was so evil. A misunderstood, heartfelt man behind an intimidating mask.

You shift a little, trying to rub your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to ease the throbbing between them. The bed buckles slightly and you hear his even breathing change. His chin grazes the top of your head and the arm around your waist stiffens slightly as he slowly starts to come out of his slumber. A loan groan rumbles deep in his chest as the arm around your waist starts to move. You look down–he has his sleeve rolled up, exposing the bottom half of his arm covered in tattoos. The large visible veins covering the limb make you absolutely fucking feral.

His hand slowly starts to move from the mattress next to you, to your stomach. His large palm flattens and splays across you. He covers your entire belly. That same hand begins gliding up and over the ridge of your curves. He starts at your waist, then slides down to your hips and lands on the outside of your thigh. During his minstations, he doesn't make a sound. But you can feel something hard starting to press against your ass.

His hand starts to glide back up, slowly mapping every curve along the way until it ventures back down to your tummy–like he's trying to burn them to memory. From there his palm flattens again, but it starts to slide up. When he reaches just under your breast, a soft moan slips through the mask before he pushes forward and envelopes your breast in his hand. His hips gently start to rut against you.

The colossal hand squeezes down gently and lazily, kneading the squishy flesh there. Instantly, it makes both nipples rise to attention. Your breath hitches when his soft ruts on your rear stop. He takes his massive thigh and moves it to gently nudge your leg. He pokes his knee between your thighs and lifts your leg with his, slotting his thigh perfectly against your clothed cunt. He's warm there too, you discover. That warmth accompanied by his thigh pushing up against your core sends shivers down your spine.

He still hasn't said anything, but his breathing has picked up. What feels like an iron rod is pressed against your butt still–his thigh begins rubbing and putting pressure on your cunt. All while your breasts are being fondled by his big hands. He pulls you closer to his chest, lifting you slightly so he can get his other arm under your side and use that hand to assault your other breast.

His hips grind on yours while the thigh pressed to your cunt drives deeper, making you clench around absolutely nothing. His pointer fingers and thumbs come together on both breasts to tease your nipples, rolling them between the leather of his tactical skeleton gloves. You begin to let sweet whimpers fall from your lips, which encourage Ghost to continue. His head comes down to the nape of your neck. He opens his mouth and softly bites down on the sensitive skin there through his mask. His breath comes out hot and heavy under your chin.

You begin to roll your hips in time with his movements. You bring a hand up to steady and brace yourself on his side to start grinding down on him. He halts the movements of his thigh and lets you start to chase your own release. His hard cock throbbing painfully in his pants. His fingers continue to play with your nipples as you grind down on him. He groans, eyes half lidded and full of lust. He's watching closely.

"Mhm. Use me, sweet girl." He finally says.

"Simon–" you whimper.

"Shh." He hushes you. "Focus."

Slow, steady and determined rolls of your hips on his leg start to make your lower tummy burn. Ghost watches you, mouth agape under his mask as your hips slowly and purposefully circle up and grind down on his appendage. Your legs attach at the ankle behind his legs, making it easier for you to stay steady in your movements. Your tiny fingers dig into his side as you clutch onto him.

You're no stranger to this dance. Your hips know what to do. Whether you're on top, riding him–or in this exact situation, grinding down on his thigh. Your curves move achingly slow in presentation for him. He curses under his breath, hands squeezing down hard on your breasts now–like he's holding onto you desperately. Like he's holding himself back.

The final straw is when you whimper his name in the sweet tone of yours again–a sweet, lustful cry of his name that makes his brain short circuit for a moment. His hands quickly release your breasts. They shoot down your curves to your waist and grip your hips tightly. He begins to help you grind on him, bringing his own hips and his aching cock to your rear and humping you in time with your own movements on his thigh.

"Fucking hell." He grumbles, his voice deeper from sleep. His covered cock pokes the soft lumps of your ass. "Needy little girl. Aren't you, Sergeant?"

You can only manage a broken whimper as he continues to pull your hips back and forth on his thigh. The muscles in your lower stomach start to stiffen–that familiar feeling starting to arise again. Your breathing picks up, and your moans become desperate as your orgasm rapidly approaches. He holds you so firm and strong, pulling you down on his thigh like it's the only thing in the universe he cares about in this moment. Your belly is pulling tight again, causing your throat to shudder closed. You start repeating something, but you're so far out of it you can't discern what is.

Ghost can though.

Simon. Simon. Simon. Simon–

It's not the movements or the grinding that finally sends you over the edge though. It's his strong hands anchored on your hips. It's his big firm body pressed tight against yours. It's his cock pressed to your rear. It's the desperation in his movements. It's the feeling of his hot, labored breaths on your neck. It's the moans that slip from his lips. It's the selflessness–how he's only getting you off in this moment.

White hot please shoots up your spine as your orgasm rockets through you. Your entire body erupts in goosebumps, shivers making you shift and brace yourself. Your face presses into the warm fabric of the mattress, fingers leaving Ghost to dig in next to your torso. Your moans get swallowed by the dirty fabric there. Ghost's hands stay attached to your hips as your thrusts slow and eventually come to a stop. You lay there, catching your breath as Ghost does the same behind you.

After a few moments, one of Ghost's hands comes up to flatten on your back, rubbing all the way up to your neck, and back down. He does this for a few minutes, soothing you from your high. On the last run, his hand comes up and locks around the back of your neck. Strong hands force your head to turn right and up so you're facing him. His fingers lace through the hair on the back of your head. He pulls you close, his neck cranes down so the fabric of his mask over his lips is ghosting yours. He breathes hot air against your face and his eyes lock on your exhausted expression.

"Get dressed." He whispers to you.

His cock is still hard, you can see it from here.

"What about yo–"

"That's an order, sergeant." He interrupts.

His voice sounds absolute. You don't speak, but his hand holds you there for a few more moments before he finally releases you. He unwraps himself from you and climbs over. Heavy feet land on the wooden floor when he sits on the edge of the bed. Leaning down, he starts to tighten the straps on boots.

You lay there for another brief moment, watching him from behind. Tired hues scan from his waist, all the way up to his shoulders. His back is massive, tight muscles constricting under his black hoodie as he moves to stand. He walks to the pile of his gear on the floor. One by one, he starts getting set up again. First comes his layered rain jacket. He zips it all the way to the top. Then comes the harness that fits around his waist and thighs. The vest comes last, followed by the mountain of weapons he has.

Your eyes quickly shoot to the side when you see him glance over at you. Embarrassed he caught you gawking, you began to crawl out of the bed. Tiny feet hit the floor and you stand, making your way over to your own pile of gear on the floor. You can feel him watching you as you adjust your underlayer of clothes. The tight undershirt he had just fondled all morning is getting pressed down against your curves, showing the lines of your sculpted belly and belly button–it gets tucked under the buckle of your jeans. You reach up, combing through your hair with your fingers and pulling it into a loose ponytail at the base of your neck. You follow the same order as him. Boots, jacket, harness, vest, weapons.

His eyes are on you still, making you shiver. You feel incredibly bad. He was still achingly hard in his trousers when you finished and then he just…got up. Why would he do that? Sure, last night he came inside you. But, he still made you the priority. And he did the same thing this morning. It's not fair, you think to yourself. He was your commanding officer though. Not much you could do to fight him.

As you finish tightening the last strap, you hear the microphone on your earpiece start to crackle. You stop what you're doing immediately, dropping your hands to the floor and snatching the headset. You place it over your head, bringing the microphone to your lips.

"This is Egon, do you copy?"

"Egon–this is Soap. How copy?" Comes a familiar voice.

"Ten kilometers west. Moving out now."

"Are you with the Ghost?"

"Affirmative." You say, glancing over at Ghost who is standing tall, hands resting on the top of his vest.

"Copy. Rendezvous at the meeting point. Stay safe out there, lass."

"Copy." You return before pushing the mic away from your face. You turn fully to face Ghost, who is already on his way towards the door.

He pulls the door open, holding it with his foot while he pulls the rifle off his back and points it outside. He bends his knees, easing out of the doorway and starting to sweep the area. You follow suit, doing the same. It's nice out today, the early morning sun shoots beams through clouds as you and Ghost make your way towards the city.

It's quiet too. The sound of your boots hitting the cobblestone streets are all you can hear as you and the Lieutenant approach an abandoned SUV. It's old, probably the early nineties. Ghost is in front of you. He sweeps one hand up and motions for you to take one side of the vehicle while he takes the other. The windows are tinted, so you're going in blind.

First you sweep the outside. Then you both approach the second row doors. Your hand lands on the handle with a gentle thud, Ghost following quickly behind. With your other hand, you pull the mic down to your lips.

"On the count of three." You whisper to him.

"Roger."

You begin counting, heart pumping with excitement.

One.

Two.

Three.

Your fingers curl tightly around the handle and yank it open. You immediately let go and bring those digits back down to the trigger on your rifle. Ghost does the same, sweeping his barrel from left to right, making sure the vehicle is empty. You have a good idea the car is empty, both you but do the same procedure for the front just in case. When you determine the car is in fact abandoned, Ghost jumps in the driver's seat and you take the passenger. His hulking figure takes up most of the room in the small foreign made SUV, but you can't complain when he works his magic and manages to hot wire it.

The engine fires right up and he shifts it to gear, putting all four wheels into motion.

The plan is to drive ten kilometers north, directly to the coordinates Price gave you. It's probably somewhere in the middle of nowhere, where he is able to call in one of the helicopters to land. He usually opts for dessert–that's your best guess.

The drive so far is bumpy–the old SUV not being the smoothest of rides. You're looking out your passenger window when Ghost's voice catches you off guard.

"What was it like in the United States Marine Corp?" He asks, not taking his eyes off the road.

You're shocked, to say the least. This is the first time he's ever inquired about your past experiences. You glance over at him, eyes locking on the hard part of his mask. Your cheeks are rosy from the brisk morning air–lips slightly chapped from the lack of hydration.

"Uhm. It was…tough. I guess." You speak softly, watching his fingers curl around the steering wheel.

"I've heard that branch of the American military is particularly hard on its soldiers."

You look forward, thinking back on your experiences there. You were just an eighteen year old girl when you joined. It was a hard decision to make, but it was one you had to make for your own safety.

You lower your head a bit, lost in thought. Ghost takes notice and glances over at you through his peripherals.

"It was, yeah. Probably because I was so young when I joined. It's what I needed, though."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I needed the discipline, and the real world experience–needed to learn how to defend myself."

His hands glide over the steering wheel as he makes a turn. Silence fills the air for a few minutes as Ghost closes in on the rendezvous point.

"Discipline–" he huffs humorously. "--you wouldn't know discipline if it bit you in the arse."

You chuckle softly. "What can I say? Guess that's the American in me."

"Got that right. Bloody disrespectful people you are."

You laugh out loud this time. "Disrespectful and stubborn are two different things, Ghost! I am not disrespectful!"

He doesn't respond, but you like to think he's smiling under that mask. You look over at him, a smile of your own plastered on rosey cheeks. You really want to ask him about his past, pick his brain. You want to know why he is the way he is. Why he's cold, calculating and fierce. Surely there's a story or two behind the mask, but you can't bring yourself to ask. For fear you may disrespect him.

"Besides. I was told my disregard for authority was one of my best qualities when Price recruited me."

"Is that right?" He asks.

"Mhm."

"Price is a cunt."

You laugh again, white teeth splitting your mouth open as you turn to hide the subtle blush turning your cheeks even more red. Your breath fogs the class as you glance out of the window.

"I reckon he probably says the same thing about you."

He scoffs. "Quit talking like your parents were cousins."

"That was vile, sir." You say, pressing your hand to your cheek and continuing to laugh. "And uncalled for."

Ghost snorts, one hand leaving the steering wheel to lay on the center console between you and him. The cab starts to shake when he drives off the beaten path and into some rough terrain. The ground is made solely of rock, large ones. Which sends you both ricocheting back and forth in the vehicle. What feels like an eternity later, you approach a wide opening where you see one of the standard military helicopters. Ghost pulls up a few feet away and slams the vehicle into park. Not even taking the time to shut the car off, he opens his door and jumps out. You follow.

You walk next to Ghost's towering figure. When you approach the ramp and jump on, Soap is immediately out of his seat to see you in.

The ramp starts to close and it's hard to hear anything over the helicopter's blades. Your hair whips violently until the ramp closes completely and you're both inside with the rest of the team, and then some. You notice a few men standing towards the front of the large copter. One of the men locks eyes with you and you can't help but stare back as he nods softly.

Soap approaches Ghost first, slapping his hand on the much larger man's arm.

"Took your sweet ass time with that one, didn't ya boss?"

Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes glancing over towards you. You lock eyes with him immediately, heart rating increasing as his stare bores into you.

"We had some setbacks. I straightened them out."

Soap knocks his shoulder and grunts. "That's why we love the Ghost."

Ghost's eyes don't leave you as you move back to take a seat on the metal bench attached to the haul wall. Soap approaches you soon after, spreading out and getting comfortable.

"Who are the guys over there? I wasn't aware we would have guests." You whisper, laying your head back and turning to look at Soap.

"Alejandro and his team. Good guys. They'll be helping us from here out." He whispers back.

"You're sure we can trust him?"

"Positive. We worked closely with him on a mission you weren't involved in a while back. He's good people."

"Okay. If you trust him, I trust him."

Soap shifts in his seat, leaning closer to you. You can see past him. Ghost is still standing, meaning against one of the haul walls with his massive arms tied over his chest. It's too dark over there to see his eyes, but you swear you can feel them watching you.

"I tried to reach you last night. Why didn't you answer?" He whispered.

"What? I never heard the comm turn on." You respond, eyes flashing back to Ghost for a moment before they land on Soap once more.

"Multiple times, actually. You had me worried, lassy."

"Sorry Johnny. I was just tired. And Ghost was having issues with his all night."

"Won't happen again, yeah?" He says, giving you a serious look.

You grin. "You can't order me around, Soap. We're the same rank."

"Would you listen even if I was your superior?" He countered.

"Fuck off." You say with a laugh, moving your hand up to flatten on his face and push him away playfully. Soap grins and moves back into his original position next to you.

"Where are we headed?" You ask, fumbling with one of the pockets on your vest.

"New mission tomorrow. Alejandro is taking us to his headquarters to detox and debrief. Then we're out at dawn."

You sigh. "Another mission already?"

He nods, his hands softly patting his thighs as he closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall.

"As long as there's a shower. I didn't get to use the one at our safehouse last night." You say.

"Why?"

"Because it was a shack attached to the house and it was freezing." Sarcasm evident in your tone.

"Excuses, sergeant."

You roll your eyes and sit back again. The rest of the flight is quiet. With the occasional soft banter in the background. Everyone seems pretty exhausted. Which is fair, this mission lasted almost seven days. You were happy to have the twelve hours being given to rest up. You stayed with Soap the entire flight there, but you were a little uneasy. The entire time, you felt Ghost's eyes watching you intently through the eye holes on his mask.

You were relieved to jump off the helicopter when it finally landed.

The "headquarters" in question looked to be nothing but an abandoned warehouse, in some kind of oil district. When you and the rest of the team walked inside, it was bare bones. But it did appear to have a running function. There were couches, chairs, tables spread out. There was a large projector screen on one of the empty walls. And there was even some workout equipment positioned in a corner of the facility.

Alejandro walked everyone through a large bay door which led into what used to be the office part of the facility. He pointed out that there were five or six open bedrooms, and a couple open showers. All in their own enclosed rooms for added privacy.

You immediately jumped at the shower opportunity first. Quick to get out of your dirty clothes, you let the warm water run over your aching body. Your soaked hair sticks to your face, neck and back as you run soapy fingers through it. You lather yourself in soap, hands running down your body until they meet at your lower tummy. Your hand slips down and between your thighs to where you ach the most. You run your fingers through your folds, getting every nook and cranny clean. A soft sigh leaves your lips.

A naughty voice in your head says you wish he hadn't cleaned you last night. You wish you could feel reminiscent of him here–feel his cum dripping down your leg. You still feel awful for not helping him get off this morning–not like you could do much. When he ordered you to get ready in that definite tone of his. You couldn't say no.

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't hear the door creak open. You stand there behind the curtain, letting the water soak you while you think back to last night. The feeling of his lips. The feeling of his hands. The feeling of his cock, buried deep inside you. You're so lost in that moment again, that you actually gasp out loud when the light suddenly shuts off. You whip your head around, squinting to try and find any source of light. Your wet hands grab ahold of the shower curtain to try and open it but you're startled when a large, naked hand clamps on top of yours.

"Taking bloody forever in here, sweet girl." Comes that familiar deep baritone cutting through the darkness. "I'd like to get clean too."

"Simon–"

"You're wasting all the hot water, sergeant."

You can't see him, it's still pitch black. But you can feel the cold air from outside rush in when he opens the curtain to step in. His large form pushes you deeper inside, boxing you in the corner under the stream of steamy water. You hear him close the curtain completely and he steps closer to you.

"Come here." He orders, a large hand coming out to wrap around your arm.

"S-simon. You…you don't have your mask on."

"And it's pitch black in here. Any other obvious observations?"

You swallow, stepping slightly closer to him.

"You–You're okay with this?" You ask in a whisper.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips. His hand tightens around your arm and yanks you forward, your body crashing into his. But he catches you, in those strong arms. Fuck, you never thought you'd feel his naked body but here you are–pressed against his broad chest. The hairs there are soft and comforting.

"I trust you wouldn't do anything to break the confidence I have in you, sergeant."

A large hand comes to your lower back and pulls you closer. His other hand comes up to your jaw and caresses it, that thumb moves under your chin and points up, getting your entire head to move with it. You feel his hot breath ghosting over your lips again as he leans down. Water is running down your back as his hand starts to slide up and down, feeling every inch of skin there you have to offer. Your hands find their way to his chest, and slide all the way up to the back of his head. Fingers lace through the silky hair at the base of his neck as he leans down to finally lock his lips on yours.

You let a soft whimper fall into his mouth as he kisses you. His hand leaves your chin to trail down your sides and join his other on your back. Your tongues begin the same erotic dance they did just last night. You wonder if he knows how talented he is with his tongue. How he knows exactly how to please you with it–almost like it's second nature to him. His head twists to the right and yours twists to the left, opening wide to take his tongue again and again and again. Soon his movements start to become more erratic as arousal takes over. His hands move from your back, down to your ass. There he squeezes and kneads the soft flesh as he continues to kiss you.

Your thighs are rubbing together now, your core heating up at his rash and desperate movements. You can feel his cock hardening against your stomach as your hands slide down from his head to land on his chest. He pulls you closer with his hands on your ass–so close you can feel his cock throbbing with excitement.

One of his hands slides off your ass to come around front. Slowly sliding down, his fingers eagerly find your weeping cunt and sink through your folds. It's happening so quickly you can't compose any words, he steals the breath from your lungs. Calloused fingers rub down through your slit to collect your arousal and he coos when he feels how wet you are.

"All this for me, little girl?" He whispers into your mouth.

You moan for him, legs becoming weak when one of those wet fingers comes up to start rubbing strong circles over your clit. Slowly–achingly slowly–he continues to circle over that sensitive and abused bundle of nerves.

"Simon–"

Your hands hold steady on his chest as he continues to rub your clit. The steam from the hot water makes the air dense around you.

You desperately want to please him. You know that this pleases him, letting him have his way with you. Listening to the moans he causes coming from your mouth. Feeling the wetness he creates between your thighs. But you want to pleasure him. You want to please him in your own way. You want to give him a break from all his hard work.

"Simon, wait–"

He doesn't listen, just continues his assault on your wet cunt.

"Simon, stop–"

You feel him hesitate for a moment, and his movements slow down. He huffs out a hard breath like he wasn't breathing the entire time he was playing with you.

"What? What's wrong?" He asks, out of breath.

He removes his hand from your cunt, and you can feel him slowly take a step back. You're worried he thinks he did something wrong, so your hands reach up to grab his neck.

"Absolutely nothing–" you say as your fingers slowly start to dig into the thick muscles there. He groans. "I want to suck your cock. Will you let me?"

His breath catches in his throat, your fingers continuing to massage the muscles on his neck. You bring one foot forward, starting to guide him back against the tile wall of the shower. He actually lets you, which is surprising. He grunts when his back makes contact, but you continue distracting him with rubbing his neck. You stand on the tips of your toes to try and kiss him again and his hands come to land on your waist. You come close, but then decide to let your lips hover over his. Your hot breath fans over his chapped lips as his hands search for you in the darkness.

"I want your cunt." He mumbles against your lips.

"You can have my pussy anytime you want, Simon. I've made that abundantly clear by now. You've been so attentive to me, let me do something for you."

You rub strong lines up and down his neck with your thumbs, digging into the taut muscle there. He moans this time, and you feel his cock jump when you mention he can have you anytime he wants. He slowly begins to give in, the hands on your waist letting go and dropping to his sides. He gets tired of you teasing him and smashes his lips to yours, giving you one more juicy kiss before pulling back to let you slide down his body. Your fingers release his neck and start to glide down his chest. Your knees bend and your hands follow, coming all the way down his chest, to his abdomen, his stomach, and then landing on his strong thighs on either side.

His cock falls down heavy, large and attentive to you. Your knees make contact with the wet floor and you settle there between his legs. Your cunt throbs when your hands come together at the base of his cock, thumbs and pointer fingers trying to wrap around his girth. You can't, you discover. He's too thick for even both hands. You swallow down a moan when you feel him twitch. He's waiting patiently for your tongue. You sit down on your ankles, head bowing to meet the tip of his hanging cock.

All the muscles in his body tense and he hisses when you open your mouth and your tongue slides under his shaft. Your wet cavern envelopes the tip of him, lips closing over his shaft and you pull back, sucking as hard as you can. His hips buck involuntarily, sending his cock a little farther in your mouth. You groan, eyes squeezing shut as you adjust to his size. His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers lace through your wet hair.

You dive back in, swallowing around his cock and starting to bob back and forth. Slowly, of course. You do your best to take as much of him as you can, but it's difficult. He's such a large man, it was no shock to you to find he was large down here too. His hand squeezes and pulls you forward on his cock as he lets a particularly loud moan leave his lips.

"Fucking hell, woman. That mouth of yours—"

He's caught off guard when you nibble down on him a little bit. One hand leaves his shaft to reach down and cup his balls. You squeeze them gently and you feel the top half of his body hunch over. His fingers dig into your scalp.

"Fuuuuuck." He moans. "Fuck, I wish I could see you right now–that pretty little mouth of yours wrapped around my cock."

You mmm low in your throat and continue working at him. Your fingers softly tease his balls, while your mouth brings him a pleasure he hasn't felt in a very long time. Your soft tongue laps up every drop of pre-cum from him and you swallow it all. His hand is pushing you further down. You can feel it shaking slightly.

"Bloody hell. Can–can I fuck your face sweet girl?"

You nod against him, your other hand leaving him to trail down between your thighs. A sweet moan vibrates against his cock when your fingers find your clit. A thumb begins rubbing soft circles there while you trail your pointer finger down to slip inside. You pump yourself at the same rate as your mouth takes his cock. Back and forth, back and forth. In and out, in and out.

He hisses when he realizes what's going on. He loses his patience and balls his hand into a fist at the back of your head. He growls when you moan out his name against his cock. He pulls you forward and then back. Pulling himself off the wall, he braces above you and slowly starts thrusting into your mouth. You open wide for him, tongue staying tucked underneath to give him that extra pleasure. His hips pick up, rutting into your mouth as he tries to go as far back as possible without hurting you.

He can't get all his length in there, but he doesn't care. He continues fucking your mouth with as much of his cock as he can fit.

"Christ." He moans

He pushes a little further, feeling the tip of his cock press against the back of your throat. Your eyes squeeze tighter, tears welling up in the corners as you try and take more of him. Only, you find that you can't–you can't help it when you gag around him, his swollen tip hitting the reflex there at the back of your wet cavern. But you keep trying, like the soldier you are. You keep fighting for the resolve.

The sound of you gagging seems to spur ghost on because he starts fucking you faster. His movements start to become erratic as he approaches his orgasm. His breathing is heavy and labored. The hand tangled in your wet hair tightens even more and holds you steady. You continue rubbing tight circles over your clit, little fingers pumping inside. Now that you've had him inside you, your own fingers do little to nothing to please you. But you soldier on, your own high approaching much quicker than you expected.

He knows what you're doing–he's holding himself back. He's waiting to hear your release before he lets himself go.

You moan against his cock when hot pleasure snaps through your lower body. Your legs shake, and you almost fall forward but Ghost's strong hand holds you up against his cock while he continues to fuck into you.

"Good girl. Good fucking girl."

He groans, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust into your mouth. His cock is starting to pulse, and his movements come to a screeching halt. His breathing is heavier now and he bends down, abdomen buckling as he shoots streams of his white hot cum down your throat. You take it all, throat opening to accommodate him.

He takes a few moments to gain his composure, standing up tall in front of you. His cock slips from your mouth and drops against his thigh. The air is filled with nothing but your combined heavy breathing and both try and ease down from your orgasms. You stay seated on the ground, and Ghost takes a few steps back. His back touches the wall and his legs give out, letting him slide down and take a seat on the floor across from you.

"Christ woman. Where have you been my entire life?" He asks, still slightly out of breath.

You feel a gentle smile across your lips. "I could ask the same of you, sir."

He chuckles, and you start to scoot forward. You blindly find your way between his legs. Little hands find his chest and you lean up to press a tender kiss to his lips. He lets one hand fall to your lower back to hold you against him. You continue kissing him for a few minutes, enjoying the aftershocks of your high. You sit there between his legs, feeling his warmth. When he removes his lips from yours, you let your head drop to lay in the nape of his strong neck. His head falls back against the tile.

"Water is getting cold." You mumble against his skin.

"And?" He snorts.

"Well, I'm already clean. You're the one who's gonna suffer." You say, letting the grin on your face make an indent in his skin.

He groans, turning his head to the side to let his lips touch your temple.

"Insufferable woman."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #smut #Egon

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fanfiction-artist-prototype · 1 year

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New DC/DP idea:

Paulina has big aspirations to get out of backwater Amity Park, ilinois even before Phantom and Ghosts.

She's pretty and though people doubt it, she's really quite smart. Not to mention she knows when people are trying to backstab her. So she goes into business.

In the words of Elle Woods, like it's hard?

She works her way up the chain, she's now on the board of directors of Wayne Enterprise, the youngest to do so only in her late thirties. (The youngest after Mr Bruce Wayne himself though that didn't really count.)

Her secret? She grew up in Amity Park and survived a dip in another dimension when the whole city went off the map, she's uncanny and a little bit harder to kill. She also may or may not be distantly related to a witch and that shit doesn't just go away. So, she's pretty, she's smart, she made a few low level dealings here or there with entities for the souls of her egotistical criminal competition and putd 120 percent into everything she does! (She may have also killed a man. Stilletos could be custom made and Paulina had an addiction.)

The only issue with this whole arrangement is Mr Wayne (the younger, Tim Drake-Wayne who looks disturbingly like a younger Daniel Fenton) is getting a bit suspicious.

She might end up owing Danny a favour by the end of it, but who didn't in their graduating year? If anyone could get a snarky probably up to no good billionaires son off her back, it'd be Daniel "still regularly fist fights geriatric Vlad Master's for being a dick" Fenton.

#dc/dp #dc x dp

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atopvisenyashill · 4 months

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i totally get not shipping jonerys but i think there's too much potential for george not to explore. i do think jon is going to be critical of dany’s methods and they’re doomed, but they have a lot in common too? like wanting to impose their beliefs and world view on others, and they can bond over having really bad pr too! i just hope that it’s more interesting than the show, for my own sanity.

I do think there's potential to explore but I just do not see the romantic potential. Their commonalities are not the sort that would make them get along. Jon's bad PR is he's a reclusive dick running off bad advice (from another Targaryen to boot) who won't explain his long term plans to people he doesnt like, sends every single one of his allies away, and is trying to break down long held prejudices in the span of a few months. Dany's bad PR seems similar except on top of "breaking down long held prejudices" she trusts violent, shady ass men at every turn (while Jon just straight up executes Slynt! Do you see Jon misstep wrt Alliser and Bowen? Yes, but he is not sitting here justifying their violence the way Dany justifies men like Daario), compromises in ways that completely undermine the prejudices she's trying to break down, and has now simply accepted that her dragons killing innocent people is an acceptable loss. Dany takes a profit off the selling of slaves and I simply do not believe Jon would react so cavalierly to Dany telling him about how she burned her slave alive to hatch her dragons, especially after whatever shenanigans Melisandre and Stannis are going to be getting up to in TWOW. Not for nothing here, but Jon does not use Ghost as a killing machine; anyone or anything Ghost has killed has been in defense of Jon while Drogon is very much a weapon of war.

Beyond that, Dany's identity is very tied up in the being the last dragon. She's going to be ten times worse in the books about finding a dragonseed in Westeros, especially if Rhaegar found out Elia was killed and married Lyanna, thereby legitimizing Jon above Dany's own claim. She's going to kill Aegon VI and destroy KL, maybe even Casterly Rock and parts of Dorne as well! The thing I think everyone overlooks here though is that she is not getting to Westeros until the very end of TWOW at the earliest! She's going to have wracked up a kill count higher than every other character on page, probably a kill count higher than the Conquerors or the Dance or the Redgrass Field. Regardless of any similarities they have in their backgrounds, what Jon is likely to feel when she lands is horror, and a fair amount of nerves. Do I think he will feel guilt for having a hand in his aunt's death, in ending the line of Targaryens? Yes, absolutely! It doesn't mean his guilt will drive him to side with a woman who lands with a slave army and then sets fire to half the continent.

And to be completely honest, if they do hook up, if she lands and she's lauded as a hero after destroying the city states of Slaver's Bay, after slaughtering the khals of the dothraki, after taking a profit off slavery and engaging in collective and cruel & unusual punishment, if murdering Aegon VI for *checks notes* being lied to about who he is and having a better claim than her but not "earning" his ending, and finds some sort of happiness with Jon, I'm saying that's 100x more misogynistic than what the show did, not to mention nauseatingly imperialist and classist. The reason I am very firm in saying Dany will go dark is because it is my opinion anything less is a betrayal of the themes of non violence, the costs of war, and the punishing of the poor. Like, Robb's murder is a tragedy but the book does not shy away from the harm he does! Dany will not (should not!) be treated any different just because she's a woman; that's like the basis of feminist theory!

#a normal person would look at the mess she made of slaver's bay and go 'dude what the fuck is wrong with you.'#unfortunately jonathan snowflake of game of thrones hbo is blinded by emilia's pretty face just like d&d and emilia herself are!#anti daenerys targaryen #anti jonerys #like even if jonsa doesn't happen. they're not hooking up. there's a world i do believe jon feels a complicated kinship with her.#but that doesn't mean he's going to like her.#like if jon had settled the wildlings and been like 'this is too hard. you're all part of the night's watch now and you have no choice'#you can bet i'd be dragging his ass the way i drag hers. but he gets shanked specifically bc he *refuses* to compromise in this way.#dany is a politican. jon is an idealist. neither ultimately makes good leaders.#asks #once again sorry if this sounds mad. i'm not mad. just animated.

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paradoxcase · 21 days

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Chapter 29 of Nona the Ninth

There's a First skull on this chapter, but there's no one in it who's associated with the First, I guess unless you want to count Pyrrha and/or Kiriona, but neither of them have big speaking parts here

So Paul can do necromancy just fine, and doesn't seem to be affected by Varun the Eater at all. I guess this is because Camilla's body used to belong to a non-necromancer?

Honestly, why didn't John decide that the Lyctors should wind up in the cavalier's body instead of the necromancers? The pros are that their final body, that they'll have for all of eternity, is not made out wet noodles and can wield a sword that's not a rapier, and also they will be immune to the resurrection beasts' madness aura, and I don't think there are any cons, really. Ianthe could do necromancy from Babs' body just fine, so I don't think that would be an issue. It does mean that Ianthe would spend eternity looking like Babs, but that's ok, I don't have a lot of sympathy for Ianthe

I just realized that they totally abandoned Babs' body in the tunnels and it's probably going to get eaten by a Herald. Poor Babs, first Ianthe disrespected him by doing his hair wrong, and now he doesn't even get a funeral. He was kind of a dick, but I'm not sure he deserves all the desecration his body has been through

I guess because it seems like We Suffer is staying behind to hold off the Heralds and let the truck escape? This wasn't made super clear

So there is a messenger, and two parts of a message, and Aim is one of the parts. So is she three separate entities? She is sometimes saying "I" and sometimes saying "we" and the first "I" refers to the messenger, but Aim is the name of one of the messages. I don't know who "us" refers to in "when the message was passed to us" because previously the messenger was singular. And we have a new name Emma Sen, which doesn't seem to follow any of the naming conventions we've seen so far, though it does have some letters in common with "messenger". And I'm curious what it means for the message to be "too simple for human beings like us to understand". She hopes Nona will hear it, so maybe it is intended for planets? I guess this will probably get resolved in the next book, since there's not much time left in this one

Pash made a joke! I think she is learning how to be funny from Pyrrha. I think someone should write an AU where Pyrrha is married to Wake and is Pash's cool aunt, I think that would be fun. Maybe G1deon can be in there somewhere too

I wonder if she still thinks it would be super romantic for Harrow to eat her soul and is jealous of Paul now or something

Ok, but I'm pretty sure you're going to the Ninth to kill John and as we all know that will explode the sun and etc., etc., so I'm not sure that's actually true

I like how she talked to Juno Zeta for five minutes and she learned the names of all her family members and now is someone she has to say goodbye to

Interesting and sad that Paul refers to Palamedes and Camilla as "they" and not like, "we"

Gideon is just pissed that there isn't anyone she can call "Sex Pal" any longer. I wonder if they picked that name specifically because it would be hard for Gideon to come up with a funny variation of it

If We Suffer is staying behind, I wonder what Paul has planned here

Or do they just mean that she will die soon, and they will see her ghost in the River?

Since the next chapter is the last John chapter, I guess this means that Nona passes out after they enter the River

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

What The Fuck!?

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin!female reader

TW:swearing, a teeny tiny bit of smut if you squint, voyeurism kind of

Summary: You and Bradley aren't the best at making good decisions and that track record catches up with you.

Word Count: 1.4k

You giggle as Bradley leads you into the bathroom at your parent's house and pushes you into the shower. His lips are on your neck within seconds and you lean back to give him better access.

"Roos we can't do this here." You laugh and he nips your flesh with a small smile.

"Says who?" He teases and you roll your eyes.

"Says my parents and brother standing thirty feet away!" You exclaim but he only lifts you up and hikes up your dress.

"Well, then I guess we have to be quiet." He murmurs and you let your eyes flutter closed when his fingers ghost across your thighs. Your resolve weakens and you sigh into him.

"Fine, but it has to be quick. You know Jake would kill you if he finds out." You mumble and Bradley grunts in response. He makes quick work of his belt buckle and pushes his jeans down just far enough for his cock to spring free.

You lean back as he pushes your underwear to the side and you both let out a low moan as he slips into you. His hand covers your mouth to stifle your whimpers and he drops his head into your shoulder as he begins fucking you.

The two of you fall into a rhythm for a few minutes and freeze suddenly when the door opens. Your eyes widen as you look at Bradley and he removes his hand when you try to speak.

"Did you lock the door?" You mouth and he ponders for a split second.

"I think so." He replies and panic is evident in your eyes. "You think?!" You whisper yell and he shrugs.

You're barely covered by a towel hanging on the glass door and you try not to be amused. Bradley shakes his head and bites his lip, trying not to have a laughing fit.

"I can't believe you!" You chuckle quietly and he presses you further into the wall while his shoulders shake. You hear someone start peeing and peek your head to the side just enough to get a glimpse of who it is.

Your laughter stops when you see it's your brother and Bradley looks when he notices your sudden shift in attitude. He glances back at you with a horrified expression and you press your finger to your lips to shush him.

Jake finishes up and you hear the sink running as he washes his hands. Your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you pray to whatever God may be listening that he doesn't discover the two of you. You and Bradley have been friends for years, originally meeting when you drove to see Jake at college.

The first thing he said to Bradley was that you're off limits when he noticed the man checking you out, and since then the two of you remained strictly platonic. Until six months ago at least.

What was a drunken confession turned into sleeping together, which turned into a friends-with-benefits situation, and last month finally became something more serious.

The catch is, your older brother has no idea and you were hoping to keep it that way until you and Bradley were more established in your relationship. It was a fifty-fifty shot in the dark whether Jake would be thrilled the two of you had been seeing each other for a while or pissed that you didn't tell him sooner.

Unfortunately, the universe has other plans and it seems the scales are tipping towards the latter as Jake pulls off the towel and sees his sister and friend together.

"Oh Jesus, what the fuck!" He yells while covering his eyes and the two of you freeze. Jake lowers his hand slightly and his face goes red when he realizes who he caught. Your hair is a mess and Bradley's pants are still around his thighs, there's no talking your way out of this.

"I'm going to kill you!" Jake growls as he lunges for Bradley and you hop down as he narrowly avoids your brother's grasp.

"Hey, whoah man! Don't fight another man while his dick is out!" He shrieks, trying desperately to situate himself.

As soon as his pants are back up, Jake swings and you gasp loudly.

"I told you she was off limits, Bradshaw! Not only do you fuck her anyway, but in my parent's house?!" He roars and all your sense comes rushing back at once. You step between your brother and boyfriend with your hands up and look between them.

Bradley looks like a deer in headlights and Jake's eyes hold nothing but chaos and murder. "Stop!" You shout and Jake looks at you. "This bathroom isn't soundproof, you idiots!"

This seems to make Jake reconsider, but he's still shooting daggers at his teammate. " You must have a death wish if you're hooking up with my little sister." He snarls and you scoff.

"We're not just hooking up, Jake. We're dating." You explain and you feel bad when hurt and betrayal flash across your brother's face.

"What?" He asks and Bradley steps forward tentatively.

"It's true, Hangman. We just recently started dating after realizing we've wanted each other for years." He says softly and you give him an affectionate smile while stepping into his side.

Jake looks between the two of you and you can see the gears turning in his head. "How long has this been going on?" He inquires and Bradley rubs the back of his neck.

"The sex? Since your birthday party." He responds and you elbow him in his ribs, causing him to let out a pained groan.

"We've been dating for about a month." You elaborate and Jake scowls.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He questions quietly and you shoot him a look.

"It wasn't your business. Plus, if your reaction doesn't give you the answer to that question I don't know what will." You snort and Jake crosses his arms.

"Fair point. But maybe I wouldn't have reacted like that if I didn't find him with his pants down in the shower with my sister. At family Christmas no less!" He says while dramatically waving his hands around for emphasis.

Your features soften and you reach out to squeeze your brother's forearm. "We were going to tell you. We just wanted to make sure that this is what we want before getting you worked up." You tell him gently and he relaxes a tiny bit.

Bradley's arm tightens around you and you hear him speak. "Your sister is what I want for the rest of my life, Jake. I'm in love with her." He confesses and you look back at him.

"You love me?" You ask shocked and he smiles down at you.

"More than the sun loves the moon." He replies and you reach up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss.

"I love you too." You say against his lips and Jake gags.

"God, get a room." He taunts and you quirk an eyebrow.

"We tried to." You quip and Jake gives you a deadpan look.

"Don't push it. I'm already fucking traumatized." He says and you laugh. "Sorry." You apologize and the room goes quiet.

After a couple minutes, you break the silence. "We should probably leave before someone starts asking questions." You suggest and both men nod.

Jake opens the door and much to your dismay, your entire family is staring as the three of you walk out. Your father has a disapproving glare on his face and it confirms your worst nightmare. They all heard what happened.

Instead of trying to remedy the situation and ultimately make it worse, you all keep your heads down and quietly exit the room. You grab your coat and the three of you make your way out into the cold.

"Well, seeing as that was a newsworthy disaster, y'all wanna go get drunk back at my place?" Bradley suggests and you and Jake look at each other before breaking out into wide grins.

"Yeah, I could go for getting blackout drunk and forgetting this whole night." You reply and Jake makes a noise in agreement. And that's exactly what you do.

@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @chair-things @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw topgun #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #Bradley Bradshaw x seresin!reader

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lucky-bishop · 4 months

Text

WIP Tag Game!!

Thanks for the tags, @dear-massacre and @rosieposiepuddingnpie!!

I have so many WIPs. Like. Too many. Some of these will probably never end up actually getting written. BUT, alas, here we go!

Non-Teen Wolf:

Nadja Pegs Laszlo (WWDITS)

The one-brain cell polycule (WWDITS)

Guillermo Mercy Kills Nandor (WWDITS)

Gay Besties (endgame Steddie but mostly abt the Steve & Robin friendship, Stranger Things)

Teen Wolf, Not Prompts:

7 minutes in heaven (Stiles' sexy birthday celebration w/ the pack)

A Parting Gift (MCD) The nogitsune leaves a gift behind. Sterek.

Affectionate Biting - Malia's love language is Biting

Lonely Girl (MCD) - Allison's ghost haunts Lydia

Alpha Peter bitches Stiles

Shifter Royalty Stilinski Family Steter

Extra Hedonist Peter w/ Bottom Dom Stiles

S1 monster of the week crack feat. the sheriff, Scott, Stiles, and Derek

Deputy Chris Argent, endgame Chris/Sheriff

DILF Chris Argent, mostly Stargent w/ endgame Stiles/Chris/Isaac

Erica Prom Queen Murder Spree

FBI Trainee Stiles

Stiles can't suck dick but Peter uses his face in Other ways

Monsterfucker dildo where Stiles gets a monster mate

Steter monsterfucking in the woods

Peter's presumptuous when he gets with Stiles but ends up getting an actual BDSM education

Non-con mating bite, Steter

Possessive Peter Steterek! The only one of these that's currently on AO3 as Possessive Beasts!

Peter babytraps omega Stiles

Sciles makes an "if we're not married by x" pact and then commits shenanigans trying to keep each other single

Unrequited Stiles/Scott where Scott rejects Stiles

Crack shrunken Peter fic

Smart Scott 5+1

Stiles/Peter/Deucalion college fic

Stargent Painting Fic - inspired by Lorde

Dark Stargent - Chris takes Stiles as a surrogate daughter after Allison dies

Sterek (MCD) - Derek returns to find Beacon Hills, and Stiles, in shambles. He tries to save them both.

Peter finding out that Stiles doesn't trust him even though they're together, inspired by T.Swift "Hoax"

Steter "hands are meant to be held" Valentine fic

Part 3 of the Steterek feminization where Stiles tops the hell out of Derek and Peter

Stiles is horny and has access to a 3d printer (Steter getting together)

Stiles/Cora/Derek dangerous Hales make Stiles horny

My very Steter take on The Train Station

Stiles gets bit by a grindr hookup fic

Transmasc Stiles and TA Peter get together

Teen Wolf & Buffy fusion, where Stiles is a Watcher (end game Stetopher)

Untitled Sterek watersports fic

Writer in the Dark, another Lorde-inspired fic, with the Kira/Cora pairing!

Teen Wolf, Prompts:

Greenberg has an absolute glo-up and everyone Notices

Stiles and Scott go looking for trouble (feral Derek and Peter) and they find it

Co-Alphas Scott and Derek fuck

Derek is being thrown a surprise party, but doesn't like surprises, and this leads to him and Stiles boning

Derek spanks Scott and Stiles for being shitheads towards him

Peter shows off wearing panties and the whole pack takes turns taking them off of him

Fox Stiles and Scott are roommates, and they compete to respectively make Peter and Lydia loud in bed

So I guess. That's technically 45 wips which is actually insane! Especially because that doesn't count any of the ~10 events or so I will probably participate in per year!

Anyway tagging: @lavender-lotion, @beaconfeels, @like-lazarus, @thotpuppy, @midnightwinterhawk, @meggie-stardust and anyone else who would like to play along!

#tag game #wips #my life is out of control #my writing

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eattherichplease · 1 year

Text

The Addams Nunnery Theory

So, I'm no expert on Shakespeare or even the English language, which is unfortunate, because I'm going to make a half-hearted –but very brave!– attempt of deciphering the parallels and references to Hamlet in Wednesday (2022) that, I believe, are intentional, and can give us hints of what's to come in season 2.

(A warning: I'm smarter in Spanish. This reads like broken English because it is)

Anyway here's the facts: there are scattered references to Hamlet, or at the very least Ophelia, on the show. I have other things to do with my life so let's focus on episode 1 for now. The references are not subtle.

First of all, principal Weems sends Wednesday to Ophelia Hall, where both she and Morticia used to live.

Ophelia from Hamlet? Kinda!

Does Ophelia kills herself? Maybe! Most likely! Let's say yes. Most experts say yes, it makes narrative sense, and Wednesday seems pretty sure about it.

But is Ophelia driven mad by her family? Well it's been a while since I read Hamlet... but I won't say that's the main reason. Ophelia goes mad because she's in love with Hamlet, who a) doesn't love her back (maybe?), b) treats her like shit (as a bit?), c) rejects her brutally, d) kills her father (a dick move tbh).

So Larissa Weems sends Wednesday to "Unrequited Love that Drives You Crazy" Hall, where she and Morticia used to live together... Subtle, Larissa. Real smooth, girl.

Anyway let's keep going.

Enid gives Wednesday the tour, which includes the fountain in the quad with the carved image of Ophelia drowning inside! like this:

Right there sitting with Ophelia we have our main girl Bianca Barclay, who is introduced to the viewer alongside the Ophelia statue/carving thing, and:

Is this then our Ophelia, hopelessly in love with the tortured prince of Denmark, destined to (ironically) drown? (ironic because she is a siren you know). Well, that would make Xavier our Hamlet. He's a rich heir and tortured by visions... So maybe? That's an option! But I think that's the superficial reading. Bianca doesn't go mad, after all, doesn't commit suicide. She moves on. Xavier doesn't go mad either, he doesn't kill anyone, not even himself. I believe they are just a red herring, a misdirection. Or maybe an early prototype, an aperitif, a model of what's to come. It's a one-act play that happens before the real play starts, to warm the audience. Fascinating, right?

After showing us the drama, the focus goes back –and remains– on Wednesday and Enid. And here's when Wednesday and Enid start showing their famous dynamic of vitriol & sugar, sarcasm & heart. Wednesday plays the insufferable Hamlet, endlessly monologuing inside her head, playing with the macabre for funsies and making comments about anything and everyone from her high horse without any regard for the feelings of the people around her:

While Enid usually takes a deep breath and counts to ten inside her head:

As she herself will say later, she's trying hard to be Wednesday's friend.... and Wednesday is not going to make it easy for her.

So the stage is set. Turn for the dramatis personae. Who is who in this drama? As you have possibly guessed, I posit that Wednesday is Hamlet. She is a rich heir, she is the most intellectual of all characters, she believes she's surrounded by idiots, she pretends to be "normal" or "mad" as she sees fit (and sometimes she seems to be truly unhinged), she has a dark sense of humor (alas, Yorrik), she thinks herself victim of a great conspiracy, she tries to unravel a murder mystery, she hates her mother, etc, etc, etc. She is also the "meta" character. She is writing a murder mystery inside a murder mystery.

And like Hamlet, Wednesday is visited by the ghost of her father (in this case her ancestor Goody), that tells her he's been murdered (colonized, genocided, burned alive). That's the start of the plot.

So Wednesday is Hamlet.

Who is Ophelia? Who is going to slowly go crazy of unrequited love for Wednesday? We have three candidates:

Tyler the psycho boy. He's not really in love with Wednesday (not really, his words) and he's not suicidal (quite the opposite)... True, his father do forbids him from courting Wednesday, which mirrors the scene where Polonius does the same with Ophelia (although for different reasons). But Tyler is not a victim, he's a real monster, a criminal. He doesn't even show remorse. And even if he's mad, he doesn't go mad because of Wednesday rejection... He was a bully and a crazy axe-murderer way before that. He's no Ophelia. Also, his father is not killed by Wednesday (he's police, which means he can't be killed by our beloved protagonist, because this is an American show! yikes!)

Xavier. A nice Ophelia indeed! He is obsessed with Wednesday to the point of being pathetic. He draws creepy, realistic paintings of her in his personal studio to admire. And he's brutally rejected by her. He's even thrown in jail by "Hamlet"! In the play, Hamlet threatens Ophelia with sending her to "the nunnery", or contemptuously sends her to "the nunnery" (as a joke??), to make clear he doesn't want anything with her. Wednesday seems to be doing the same here, sanding Xavier to horny jail (literally). So do we have a winner? Maybe! Xavier doesn't go mad with sadness after being rejected... well not yet at least. Also Wednesday hasn't killed his father... yet. She will probably in season 2... Vincent Thorpe is most probably the stalker.

But wait, we still have one contender in the match for the role of Ophelia! Our girl Enid!! My girl! I love her dearly. Is she in love with Wednesday? I'll say yes, but it's open to interpretation. It's Wednesday in love with her? Same answer. Things are complex in this world of compulsory heterosexuality where showing shappics loving each other in a screen can make Esther Sinclair (Netflix) send you to conversion camp (show cancelled). So everything depends of season 2! Is she in love with Hamlet!Wednesday? Will she be driven mad by Wednesday's attitude and constant rejection of her advances? I kinda doubt it. Wednesday seems to be warming up (the hug, you know). But maybe Enid wants more, Wednesday says no, etc? Enid could be Ophelia. Don't want her to be though. That would be a home of phobia.

Anyway the Nunnery Theory.

In the play, Hamlet says to Ophelia:

"I say, we will have no more marriages (...) To a nunnery, go."

Which basically means: "Girl, I don't want nothing with you, I don't even want marriages in the kingdom: that's how much I don't want to marry you. Go to a convent and get yourself interned. Also fuck you".

So Ophelia goes mad. Also Hamlet kills her father. And she commits suicide.

And so, three possibilities for season 2:

Wednesday rejects Tyler (done). He goes mad (he already was). Wednesday kills officer Galpin (why?). Tyler commits suicide (because he suddenly develops a conscience, because showrunners are lazy) or goes to jail forever ("nunnery").

Wednesday rejects Xavier (done). He goes mad (kinda?). Wednesday kills Vincent Thorpe (probably for unrelated reasons). Xavier commits suicide (because he is a drama king) or goes crazy and is interned in a mental asylum ("nunnery").

Wednesday rejects Enid (because he is a mess with emotions). Enid goes mad (lots of anger inside that girl, we love her for that). Wednesday kills Esther Sinclair (deserved, I'll give her a standing ovation to be honest). Enid commits suicide (I'll put a b**** in the Netflix headquarters) or is interned in werewolf jail (the home of phobia).

All of this IF and only IF Xavier is still a character in the show (maybe he'll be recasted), since Percy Hynes White seems to have been fired for being a creep and kind of a criminal (presumptive). So maybe he's not even there. Or maybe he commits suicide in episode 1 and that's the murder mystery of the season. (That's what I'll do but I don't work for Netflix).

Also Bianca could be Ophelia and she's still in love with Xavier and drowns which is the dumbest thing ever. Not even an option.

So who will be sent to the nunnery???? I sure don't know.

I'm tired bye!!! If you read all of this I love you!!!

#wednesday netflix #wednesday #the addams family #hamlet #media analysis #the addams nunnery theory #xavier thorpe #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #tyler galpin #larissa weems #theory #wednesday spoilers

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