#riley x walsh

[riley-summers]

You know what?! Screw it, let's do this...

Riley ship opinions, pt. 1, M/F edition (m/m version here, polyship version here)

If I missed one you want to hear my opinion on, put it in the replies and I'll add onto this post in a reblog.

Buffy x Riley: Is canon. Is the ship this blog is supposedly "about". I like it. Not *super* fond of how it played out in canon, but they're real cute in S4 and have some very sweet moments, like in Hush and Goodbye Iowa. Wish there was more content for it, especially fixit, canon divergent, AU, etc.

Riley x Willow: Gonna be honest, when I started S4 I thought they were teasing this as a ship. They could be cute romantically, especially if they had like a nerd4nerd dynamic going. I think I like it a bit better platonic. I think a really sweet scenario is some sort of AU where Riley is also openly queer (I'm sorry but I'm never not gonna read that man as a repressed bisexual), and he and Willow are friends who support each other.

Riley x Darla: Ok they never met in canon but that never stopped me before. In a more canon sense, I feel like they could have a really fucked up thing where they'd both be obsessed with Angel (cause you know Riley was) and they end up sleeping together or something. I do think in an AU they could be sweet and wholesome but honestly that's most all the ships imo.

Riley x Drusilla: See above when it comes to not meeting in canon. Drusilla would keep him as a pet. Riley, as a psych student, would be fascinated by how her mind works. How... cute?

Riley x Maggie Walsh: "Hello, thank you for calling Mommy Issues Central, how may I direct your call?" But in all seriousness this would be fucked up in so many ways but also somewhat plausible and you know what? I am here for it.

Riley x Tara: Another one I'd prefer platonic. I'm not entirely opposed to Tara in het ships (I kinda like the reading of her character that she's more attracted to like... the person as opposed to gender?) but I usually prefer her in f/f ships. Also, I just don't think Tara and Riley had much chemistry romantically. I'd like them as friends in the same type of scenario as with Willow tho, that could be cute.

Riley x Anya: Not really my fav, honestly. Didn't see much chemistry between them, like with Tara. Not huge on them romantically or platonic.

[on-this-day-btvs]

January 25, 2000

A New Man aired for BTVS season 4, episode 12. A lot happens in this episode. A few highlights: a drama-free surprise birthday party for Buffy, one of Buffy's best puns, Riley proudly announces his body count is 17, Buffy - even while still holding back - spars with Riley and it's no contest, and Willow and Tara practice magic in Tara's dorm room.

WALSH: So, the Slayer! BUFFY: Yeah. That's me. WALSH: We thought you were a myth. BUFFY: Well, you were myth-taken.

In this episode Giles's old "friend" Ethan returns. They spend time together, including at a bar where Ethan flirts. (With the waitress, totally with the waitress.) Ethan is later taken by Riley and other guys from "The Initiative."

This was the last appearance of Ethan Rayne. Ethan is played by Robin Sachs and is in four episodes total, Halloween and The Dark Age in S2, Band Candy in S3, and this episode. Sadly Robin Sachs passed away in 2013 of heart failure, at the age of 61.

[luasworks]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ introduction

masterlist ౨ৎ boundaries ౨ৎ spare account

—

name - lua

age - 22 years old (16th december 2001)

gender - female (she/her - afab!)

country - born in germany, moved to america

interests - the walking dead, cod (duh !!), music (rock & metal with a dash of pop), my instruments (bass, electric guitar and (only just) drums), cars (ferrari !!), books (currently reading - icebreaker) and more !!

my divider is use on my fics is by @saradika-graphics

all my original posts are tagged #luas works

‼️do not repost my work anywhere. the only other place you might see them is on my ao3 (luasworks) !!

[sunnydaleslayer]

Buffy The Vampire Slayer 4x13

[etclouie-masterlists]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 kinktober masterlist

ཐི♡ཋྀ welcome to my first kinktober, i’m lowk really nervous for this, so be kind please. please read all the warnings posted on each fic, they're all listed, and if anythings missing lmk! all works are fem reader

ཐི♡ཋྀ prompts used from this post, full credit to them for all prompts used

ཐི♡ཋྀ all work will be posted on @etclouie

ཐི♡ཋྀ candy divider used in each post are by @strangergraphics

go to main masterlist?

day one; overstimulation - Glenn Rhee coming soon !

day two; praise kink - Alex Keller coming soon !

day three; car sex - Abraham Ford coming soon !

day four; creampie - Soap Mactavish coming soon !

day five; begging - Shane Walsh coming soon !

day six; cockwarming - Sirius Black coming soon !

day seven; size kink - Simon Riley coming soon !

day eight; jealousy - Rick Grimes coming soon !

day nine; breeding kink - Oscar 'Spooky' Diaz coming soon !

day ten; dirty talk - Shane Walsh coming soon !

day eleven; choking - Negan Smith coming soon !

day twelve; oral sex - Juice Ortiz coming soon !

day thirteen; mirror sex - Soap MacTavish coming soon !

day fourteen; thigh riding - Spencer Reid coming soon !

day fifteen; first time - Chibs Telford coming soon !

day sixteen; shower sex - Derek Morgan coming soon !

day seventeen; office sex - Aaron Hotchner coming soon !

day eighteen; late night sex - Jax Teller coming soon !

day nineteen; outdoor sex - Daryl Dixon coming soon !

day twenty; sugar daddy - John Price coming soon !

day twenty-one; one night stand - James Potter coming soon !

day twenty-two; sex on film - Kyle Garrick coming soon !

day twenty-three; pillow talk - Jax Teller coming soon !

day twenty-four; mask sex - Simon Riley coming soon !

day twenty-five; uniform sex - Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes coming soon !

day twenty-six; nudes - Chibs Telford coming soon !

day twenty-seven; spanking - Negan Smith coming soon !

day twenty-eight; early morning sex - Daryl Dixon coming soon !

day twenty-nine; secret relationship sex - Merle Dixon coming soon !

day thirty; handcuffs - Luke Alvez coming soon !

day thirty-one; friends with benefits - Jax Teller coming soon !

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical violence, flashback, blood and injury, swearing

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Part Twenty-Two of Ink & Needle

Simon relives the past. Evie goes to Simon for help. Price and 141 come for another visit.

Chapter Twenty-One // Chapter Twenty-Three

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

It’s raining.

Simon can hear it pattering against the steel roof. He stands on the edge of a fracted concrete slab, staring down into darkness. Even the rain collects here, falling from the opening in the roof several stories up.

This is the only light Simon has. The rest of the building is utterly dark.

Walsh is here. Somewhere. Slinking through the inky blackness like a tentacled beast awaiting its next meal.

The fucker is cornered, and he knows it. Walsh blew the goddamn fuse box, shoving the abandoned construction site into complete darkness. It’s not ideal—but Simon has worked in far harsher conditions.

Simon had the advantage—the element of surprise. He seized it, only for Walsh to run when one of his conspirators shot off at Simon suddenly and without warning. The bullet only grazed Simon’s upper arm. Nothing more.

They’re all dead now.

All but Walsh.

Simon made sure of it. He did it slowly, using the shadows to his advantage, becoming a violent mist that struck with sharpened blade. Those men are just puddles of blood and vacant eyes.

Twirling his knife end-over-end, Simon considers his next move. Walsh’s only escape is on foot, and even in that the man is fucked. Simon managed to nick the back of Walsh’s leg just before he disappeared. Best case scenario, Simon struck a tendon. Unlikely—but Walsh isn’t going to make it far on foot, not with this rain and an injured leg.

Simon’s cold gaze surveys the building around him.

It’s just one of many properties Walsh owns, but knowing which was always the hard part. The man hides behind fake companies and even faker names. Connecting them back to him took the most effort. This place is just storage—a building to conceal what you don’t want found.

“Where are you?” murmurs Simon, cleaning the blood off his blade against his pant leg.

Walsh is unpredictable when he’s cornered. The man turns into a wild animal. All raised fur and sharpened teeth. This is the Walsh that’s dangerous. The one that will do anything to escape.

Stepping away from the edge, Simon submerges himself into the shadows. He backtracks, stepping over bodies along the way, boots silent as he walks. The rain picks up as Simon enters a partially completed stairwell. There are walls and stairs, but no roof or railings.

He is unprotected from the rain, and the water soaks into his clothes, the fabric sticking to his skin. Most of his body is unprotected, but this isn’t an infiltration, and backup is far away. The opportunity appeared suddenly, and Simon seized it with both hands, ready to choke. Simon made himself a false friend to Walsh, and that is the only reason Simon is this close to victory.

Three years.

Three fucking years since Simon started tracking this fucker.

Three years of endless searching. Endless infiltrations. Endless missions. Simon got close. Moved in. And now he’s fucking here, ready to finish the job.

And he will.

He fucking will.

Simon exits the stairwell and returns to the slim light trailing in from the hole in the roof. There’s a sharp illumination, a flash of white, followed by the cracking boom of thunder. The metal around him lights up, soaking up and reflecting the lightning.

Simon inhales, the scent of rain seeping through the soaked balaclava.

He glances upward, and squints just as another flash of lightning illuminates the space.

Above him—four levels up—is a shadow of a man.

Simon doesn’t wait for the next bolt of lightning. He turns back into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. His heart pounds in his chest—adrenaline spiking. Blood rushes through his limbs, muscles tense and poised for action.

The next flash of lightning comes, but—no. Not white. Not bright.

This is hot. This is heat.

This is flame.

The building shakes and Simon slips, sliding down the stairs, eventually landing on his knee as a resounding boom vibrates his bones.

“Fuck!” cries Simon as his knee strikes concrete. It’s a sharp crack that shoots up his leg and goes right to his head.

Rolling to the side, Simon presses himself against the wall, protecting his head as everything shudders around him. The rattling tapers out—and the moment Simon’s teeth aren’t rattling around in his head—he pushes to an upright position.

The first step is agony. He can hardly bend his fucking knee.

Hissing sharply with every step, Simon continues to climb, emerging onto the fourth level as a rising wave of nausea hits him.

The wispy tendrils of smoke come first before the heat. Simon cautiously walks forward, circumventing a slab of slanted concrete.

Behind it is fire. There is so much of it. Climbing the walls, complete undampened by the rain.

What the fuck did Walsh set off?

Simon’s intelligence said that this place might be storing chemicals, not weapons. But it didn’t say what kinds of chemicals.

A nearby beam falls from its mooring and crashes to the floor. Simon takes a step back, and then the world is tipping. Spinning.

Simon didn’t hear him. Didn’t see Walsh coming.

There are strong arms around him, shoving him down.

Simon’s training clicks into place, and he surrenders to the push, falling into it. When Simon’s back hits the ground, he rolls with the momentum, shoving Walsh off of him. Walsh tumbles away, rolling through a small patch of fire, before skidding to a stop on his side.

Simon pushes up to standing just as Walsh regains his footing. His black hair is a soaked mess, lips a snarl. Simon always thought that Walsh looked like a crow. All sharpness and talon.

“You fucking betrayed me,” screams Walsh, spittle flying from his lips.

He takes a step, staggering slightly. The sleeve of Walsh’s jacket smokes. In his right fist is a crowbar.

“Always planned on it,” replies Simon coldly.

The crowbar gently swings with Walsh’s swaying form. He hefts the metal up, pointing the bent end at Simon. “I’m gonna kill you. Take your eyes. Feed them to my fucking dogs.”

Simon says nothing. He remains still, knife clutched in his fist. It’s the only true protection he has.

“And then I’m going to kill every person you love,” continues Walsh, eyes widening slightly as he talks. “Everyone you’ve ever cared about.” Walsh lowers the crowbar. “Even the dead ones.” He laughs, the sound manic and high. “What’s a bit of graverobbing, yeah?” Walsh grins. “You can add it to the fucking list of grievances.”

“You’re not walking out of here alive,” says Simon, keeping his tone calm.

Price and the rest of the team are on their way with additional forces. Simon can kill the man, but it’ll be much easier once everyone else arrives. He just needs to play this right, to keep Walsh occupied for a bit or until the wanker tires himself out.

Either way, Walsh is a dead man.

Walsh shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, mate.” He starts walking forward, the crowbar swinging. Walsh twists his wrist and the metal bar comes upward for him to grasp it like a bat. “I always fucking win.”

Simon steps to the side as Walsh brings the bar down. The man grunts. Staggers. Turns back in Simon’s direction.

Pushing the advantage, Simon shoves the knife forward with a quick slashing gesture. Walsh dodges, the metal of the blade harshly sliding against the crowbar. Sparks fly as the two metals meet.

Walsh swings again. Simon grabs the crowbar just above Walsh’s hands, holding it at bay.

“Fuck you!” screams Walsh, kicking out.

He connects with Simon’s injured knee. Simon staggers. His hand slips a bit on the crowbar.

“Fucking bastard,” spits Walsh, kicking out again, striking Simon in the chest.

Simon’s hold on the crowbar remains but he goes down, the two men stumbling to the concrete floor.

They are a tangle of limbs. Walsh gnashes his teeth, chomping at Simon as if to tear away flesh. Simon’s elbow connects with Walsh’s jaw. The man’s head snaps back and Simon slices the knife through the air.

The blade tears up Walsh’s neck, drawing blood. It isn’t much. Not nearly enough.

Walsh pushes off Simon, clutching his throat as he takes up the crowbar and swings again.

This time, the bent end connects, digging into Simon’s leg. Screaming, Simon lunges for it, intending to rip it out of his leg.

“No you fucking don’t,” snarls Walsh, yanking on the crowbar.

Simon scream again. Muscle and tendon are tearing. Nerves severing as Walsh drags Simon’s by his leg across the floor.

“I’m not done with you,” growls Walsh, yanking again.

Simon growls and lunges forward, grabbing onto the crowbar. The two men fight for dominance and control.

Walsh lashes out with his fist. Simon jerks to the side, and then thrusts his head forward, cracking his forehead against Walsh’s nose.

Blood bursts across Walsh’s face. The man stumbles back, falling on his ass.

With a guttural cry, Simon changes his angle on the crowbar, tugging it free. A black pool begins to form beneath Simon’s leg.

Groaning, Simon turns onto his side, pushes up to sitting with both hands. Grabbing his knife, Simon staggers to his feet just as Walsh steadies himself.

Simon charges, knocking into Walsh, blade pointed forward.

The knife goes in clean. Perfectly slips between ribs, missing bone, and meeting tender flesh.

Walsh screams, and then laughs—fucking laughs. The sound is choked. Garbled. But it’s not just Walsh who screams. They’re both screaming, staring into each other’s eyes as all that pent up rage and anger emerges like a storm.

A knee shoves into Simon’s stomach, and then the two men are up again. Simon’s knife is still lodged in Walsh’s chest.

The rest is all fists. Blurry. Bloody.

At some point Simon’s back and arms burn, the clothes singed and partially melted. He’s not sure when it happens. Everything is growing fuzzy, and his leg doesn’t want to move. It drags behind Simon with every swing of his fist.

Walsh’s hands slide around Simon’s throat. Using his weight, Simon drives forward, moving like a rugby player, pushing Walsh closer and closer to the edge.

Walsh’s mouth is moving, but there are no words.

It’s a buzzing. Like an alarm.

Like—

Simon’s eyes snap open. He’s greeted by the ceiling. The burns beneath the tattoos are warm as if the dream renewed the long-forgotten pain.

And that buzzing.

“Fucking hell,” groans Simon, sitting up, and grabbing his phone off the bedside table.

Bravo whines and places his head on Simon’s leg, his large dark eyes tinged with worry.

Simon opens up the doorbell app on his phone, checking to see who is out on the street wanting entrance. He checks the time and balks.

“Shit,” mutters Simon, swinging his legs out of bed. Bravo grumbles his annoyance but doesn’t move from his spot.

The quality isn’t great but there’s a woman standing outside. All he can see is a coat and her figure. He can’t tell if it’s you, but it might be.

Simon hits the button that unlocks the downstairs door and shuts off his phone. Standing, his bad knee stretches, resisting movement. He stretches a bit, and then heads for the front door.

Someone is banging on it before Simon even makes it across the living room.

He unlocks the deadbolts, and swings the door wide, expecting that it might be you and you’ve simply lost your key.

But it’s not you. It’s—

“Evie?” breathes Simon, his sudden excitement dimming to an extinguished flame.

She is rain-soaked. Trembling. Her brown eyes are large and round. Simon tastes fear and desperation in the air.

Something is wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I know it’s late. But I have no one else to turn to. The police aren’t doing anything and I—”

“Come inside,” says Simon, softly, taking a step back.

Evie swallows hard, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she takes a hesitant step into Simon’s flat. He shuts the door behind her, locking the deadbolts.

“Sit here,” he instructs, gesturing toward the kitchen table. “I’ll make tea.”

“Simon,” she starts.

“Tea first, and then we’ll talk.”

Evie only nods, removing her coat to hang on the back of the chair. Simon fills the electric kettle and turns it on. Striding into the living room, he snags a blanket off the couch, and offers it to Evie.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, unfolding it slowly to drape over her shoulders.

Simon returns to the kitchen, preparing what he can for the tea. This concerns you. He knows it deep in his bones. But as much as Simon wants answers—craves them like a cigarette after sex—he needs to be fucking calm about this. He needs to be the clear-headed one.

When the kettle goes off, Simon makes each of them tea, spooning the perfect amount of milk and sugar into both. Simon sets a mug down in front of Evie and then decides to settle in the seat across from her.

“What happened?” he asks.

Evie’s mouth opens. Closes. She bites her lips and stares down into her cup.

“Start wherever you need,” says Simon. “Take your time.”

Time is never on anyone’s side. He is fully aware that time is your greatest friend and enemy. Even a few seconds are crucial.

Evie takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She should have been home yesterday. It’s not like her to not call if she’s running late.” She pauses, taking a moment to drink some tea. “I called. Texted. Nothing. Would go out to the house but I have Lillian to think of.”

“What time was she supposed to be home?”

“Around dinner,” answers Evie after a few seconds. “Still no word. No phone calls. No texts.” Evie sighs. “I went to the police station this morning but they shrugged it off. Said it’s too soon to file a missing person’s report.”

“Have you tried contacting anyone else?” asks Simon. His grip on his cup is the only thing grounding him right now.

Evie nods. “I contacted the estate agent. She said she’s go out there and check.” Tears begin to form in the corners of Evie’s eyes. “Haven’t heard anything. When I call her it goes straight to voicemail.”

Evie glances up from staring into her mug. “I’m worried. That’s why I came.”

“You did the right thing,” replies Simon. “I’ll go check.”

Her sigh of relief is palpable, as if the burden of it is a physical thing. “Thank you, Simon. I—”

“Finish your tea,” interrupts Simon. “I need to make a few calls.”

Glass crunches under Simon’s boots. Some of it shines in the morning light. Other pieces shine red.

The patio door is completely shattered, the glass strewn over the living room and lawn. In the middle of the floor is a deep pool of dark red liquid. And in that pool are two bodies.

Neither of them is you—thank fuck, but it’s hardly reassuring.

You are not here. You are—wherever you are.

Simon stares down at the two dead women. There’s a hammer near the blonde, the bludgeoning end covered in brain matter and gore. This is the estate agent and her assistant. They came to check after all at Evie’s request.

And they walked right into their deaths.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Captain Price, bending at the knees, observing the two lifeless women.

Kyle and Johnny are near the kitchen. Gaz is slowly shuffling through the paperwork on the kitchen counter while Johnny slowly walks the entryway with a torch. Simon doesn’t think they’ll find anything important.

This doesn’t have to do with Evie at all. Or Archie.

Not at the moment anyway.

This is about Simon. This is about Walsh.

It is about revenge, and the spirit of the chase in pursuit of that excellent vengeance.

Simon walks the perimeter of the dark pool, coming to a stop next to Price. He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze downward.

“Good thing you called us,” says Price, voice gruff. He comes to a standing position, a frown on his face. He turns to Gaz and Johnny. “Found anything?”

“Nope,” comes Soap’s response as he shines his torch up and down the staircase.

Gaz shrugs. “Not sure,” he replies. “This is mostly paperwork about selling the house. Don’t think Walsh is after that.”

“He’s not after the house,” growls Simon.

Price glances at him. “Simon.”

He’s trying to remind Simon to be calm—to chill the fuck out. But Simon is anything but calm. He’s fucking fuming.

“Walsh is after me,” says Simon, gaze locking with Price’s.

“Then why didn’t he come after you?” counters Price, shrugging. “You’re a civilian now. Why not surprise you in your home?”

Simon snorts but it’s not with amusement. “Think Walsh wants to make this quick?” He gestures toward the dead women.

Price doesn’t even glance at them. “These two were in the way. Likely surprised them.”

“Sure,” agrees Simon. “But he wants to hurt me first. To cause pain before he strikes.”

“We’ll find her,” sighs Price. “Maybe she escaped?”

“She would have turned up somewhere. Made contact with someone.” Simon shakes his head. “Walsh has her.”

“We don’t know that, Simon.”

Simon is ready to snap a reply, to show some teeth. This is about him, but it’s also about you. Walsh can have anything, but he can’t have you. You are the only thing Simon has ever truly wanted. The only person he’s craved to the point of obsession.

Life does not seem complete without you.

Letting you go is not an option.

“Captain!” calls Johnny.

Simon and Price snap to attention, their bodies shifting in Soap’s direction. There are solid footsteps, and then Johnny appears around the corner, coming to a stop next to Kyle. He clicks off the torch and places it on the kitchen counter. In his other hand is a large stack of mail. He gently sets the mail down, and spreads them out, making sure each envelope is on full display.

Simon takes a step forward. He’s not sure why he’s moving. Something is telling him to, wrapping around him like a string, and tugging.

Johnny lifts an envelope and holds it up. Frowning, he turns it around. “It’s addressed to Simon.”

He closes the distance in seconds, snatching the letter out of Johnny’s hand. It’s simple parchment. Slightly faded and weather-worn. There is no postage. No address. Just Simon’s full name.

“Simon,” says Price, almost cautiously, as if he doesn’t want Simon to open it.

He ignores Price, tearing it open.

There is a single piece of paper inside. It’s thin—nearly translucent. With slightly shaking fingers, Simon withdraws it from the envelope.

Come and find her. – KW.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@kylies-love-letter @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @lialacleaf @unhinged-reader-36

@miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @creamwhxre @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @ninman82 @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @theshrikeandcanary

@yawning-grave81 @knight4xmas @jupiternighties @corvusmorte @darling006

@azkza @nishim @carma-fanficaddict @haven-1307 @voids-universe

@itsberrydreemurstuff @i-feel-violated @cod-z @mileyraes @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@mileyraes @umno-yeah @randomgurl2326 @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @aykxz98 @kadeeesworld @xxkay15xx @iloveslasher

@sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky @suhmie @cinnabeanz @rogerrhqpsody

[maraxp]

this is a multifandom blog meaning that i favorite certain fandoms/characters so there will most definitely be more writings for certain characters and fandoms.

please don’t be offended if you send a request for someone and i don’t fulfil it, sometimes the inspiration is lacking for certain characters. i still wish to write though so i will continue to post.

requests are open so you can send them whenever you want !

DO YOU HAVE A MASTERLIST?

my masterlist is the [ 🏴‍☠️ ] at the top of my blog in the navigation, it can also be found on the left hand side of my blog when viewing on desktop.

ARE YOUR REQUESTS OPEN?

please check my masterlist [ 🏴‍☠️ ] for request details, I always try my best to keep it updated.

WHAT DO YOU WRITE FOR?

smut, angst, fluff, age gaps, poly/threesome+, reverse harem, dubcon, noncon, yandere, toy play, cheating (to an extent), blood play, knife play, bdsm, breath play, violence, gore, hunter/prey, praise and degradation, power imbalance, supernatural, choking, mommy/daddy kink. (wrap it up !)

WHAT DO YOU NOT WRITE FOR?

rpf, necrophilia, incest, daddy/little play, age play (basically pedophilia), spitting, bimbo!reader, foot fetish, animal play, race play, watersports, miscarriage, any kind of abuse, child fics, any ocs, i avoid the pet name ‘kitten’ like- it’s just.. no.

WHAT DO YOU USE FOR YOUR HEADERS?

i use canva and sometimes ibispaint x. i get most of my images from pinterest.

WHO DO YOU WRITE FOR?

MARVEL

miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, miles morales, tony stark, peter parker (all variants), doctor strange, wade wilson, eddie brock, kate bishop, mary jane

STRANGER THINGS

eddie munson, steve harrington, henry creel, jim hopper

THE WALKING DEAD

negan smith, rick grimes, daryl dixon, maggie greene, glenn rhee, abraham ford, carl grimes, morgan jones, shane walsh, michonne hawthorne, ezekiel sutton, gabriel stokes, eugene porter, rosita espinosa

RESIDENT EVIL

leon scott kennedy, chris redfield, claire redfield, ashley graham, ada wong, luis sera, albert wesker, jill valentine, carlos oliveira, rebecca chambers, sherry birkin, ethan winters, helena harper, alcina dimitrescu, karl heisenberg

MODERN WARFARE II

simon riley/ghost, john mactavish/soap, john price, kate laswell, phillip graves, kyle garrick/gaz, alejandro vargas, könig, gary sanderson/roach, farah karim, valeria garza, rodolfo parra

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU . . .

are racist, homophobic, bigoted, zionist, islamphobic. judgmental to what people enjoy writing/reading. copy or repost my fics without permission. follow me if you’re problematic. send your full fic into my ask box, i will not post it. —  if you fit the average dni criteria you will be blocked.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THIS IS AN N[SFW] BLOG. I ASK THAT MINORS BLOCK THE +18 TAG: 📓. mature - THANK YOU.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, May 26

BUFFY: I didn't realize meditating was such hard work. WILLOW: I'm healing. Growing new skin. BUFFY: Wow. That's magic, right? I mean, when most people meditate, they don't get extra skin, right. 'Cause Clem should, like, cut back.

~~Same Time Same Place~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Like the Sands of Time by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Family Matters by veronyxk84 (Buffy, Dawn, PG-13)

MedWhump May 2024 Day 25: High Fever by MadeInGold (Buffy/Cordelia, G)

a lady in the meads by myrmeraki (Buffy/Spike, M)

i know that when i'm with you i'm at home by slambat (Buffy/Willow, G)

MedWhump May 2024 Day 26: Unconscious by MadeInGold (Giles/Maggie Walsh, T)

Family Matters by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, anthology rated PG-13)

Unexpected Company by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

I don't feel safe in my body - Chapter 1-3 (COMPLETE!) WillowBee326 (Buffy/Willow, Explicit, warnings for self harm)

When Worlds Collide - Chapter 1 by CorsetedPrincess (Harry Potter crossover, Willow/Tara, T)

Secret Obsessionm, Ch. 29 by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Deliverance From Destiny, Ch. 12 by Ragini (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

When the Multiverse Hiccups, Ch. 1 by samsas (multiple crossovers, Xander, FR18)

Blood and dust, Ch. 13 (COMPLETE!) by Blackoberst (Buffy/Spike, 18+)

Out For A Walk... Bitch, Ch. 18 by MaggieLaFey (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Glimpses of the Cellar Dwellers, Ch. 36-38 (COMPLETE!) by Maldorana (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

See You Yesterday, Ch. 4 by all choseny (Buffy/Spike, R)

Bruises, Ch. 5 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea, Ch. 1-2 by Claire (Buffy/Spike, G)

[Images, Audio & Video]

New Banner Art #18 by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Meme: the slayerrrrr by diamond-rings-and-gutter-bones (Buffy, Giles, worksafe)

Faith screenshots captioned with My Chemical Romance lyrics by whale-music (worksafe, blood)

bi xander pride icons by pridebicons (worksafe unless your colleagues are homophobic)

A neon scenecore manip by soponge-meringue (Buffy, worksafe)

Captioned screenshots: spuffy + textposts by spikespeaches (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

My Baldur's Gate 3 Party [game avatars that look like BtVS characters] by phantombeast (Buffy, Willow, Faith, Spike, worksafe)

Feeling very Buffy coded today with my outfit by Xandertheokay (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

S1E06: Sense & Sensitivity - The Best & Worst Episode So Far by Known-Parfait-520

This show [AtS] is so innovative and so old. by murdered800times

Rewatcher's diary: Season 2 retrospective by jonaskoelker

Poll and discussion: What is your favourite of the "worst" episodes? by MonsterTournament

[Recs & In Search Of]

spangelmybeloved seeks Buffy Summers x Ben Wilkinson fanworks

passporttomadness seeks a 21+ roleplay partner for Angel (or Angelus)/Spike

Liam Duke’s Moloch Rap recced by SparksOnAGrave

[Fandom Discussions]

Re: Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind? [Riley] by goldheartedchaoticdisaster

More Kendra haunting the narrative thoughts after watching Helpless by thechosenthree

Is Riley more misogynistic than other characters? by Stoney and others

Buffy speaking of her relationship with Riley in ‘Sanctuary’ by Berry-Pie216

Why no vampire army? by Xyex

Season 3 was so great [Faith subtext in "Earshot"] by Cailly_Brard7

Who's your all time favourite villain from the show? [a Major Wilkins appreciation post] by Remarkable_Mud6377

Do you ever think about how Angel broke up with Buffy in a sewer? by stillhavehope99

Does anyone else have this weird certainty that Willow and Faith could have a really good relationship from season 7 onwards? by IntelligentPumpkin74

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Darla, Anya, Glory, and Dru. Reunion pics posted on IG today - via yyouriley (Julie Benz, Emma Caulfield, Clare Kramer, Juliet Landau, worksafe)

Austria Comic Con 2024 Reports, Pics & Videos (James Marsters) via jamie_marsters

James Marsters' next scheduled con appearance is Sydney @SupanovaExpo Jun 22-23 - via jamie_marsters

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[findyourrp]

21+. She/Her. Looking for some of random fandom roleplays. Please be 21+ to interact! 🎃

I prefer plotting on Tumblr and writing on Discord. I write in third person, past tense. Semi-lit/lit (2-4 paragraphs). I try my hardest to reply daily. Depending on how the work week is going, it may take 2-3 days to hear back from me, though. NSFW/smut greatly preferred (with a healthy dose of plot) but not necessary.

I'm mainly interested in canon x canon pairings (MxM, FxF, or MxF). I'll take on some canon x OC (only MxM or FxF). I like canon or canon divergent plots. As long as the plot makes sense within the universe, I'll generally be okay with it.

I'll just be listing the muses I'm most interested in writing as at the moment. I can write others for most of the fandoms. I have my favorite ships but I'm open to discussing doing pretty much anything.

Doctor Who: Eleventh Doctor, Fifth Doctor, Fourteenth Doctor, Sixth Doctor

Fantastic Beasts: Albus Dumbledore, Theseus Scamander

Game of Thrones: Jaime Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Roose Bolton, Stannis Baratheon

Ghost BC: Cardinal Copia, Papa Emeritus IV

Grand Theft Auto V: Michael De Santa, Steve Haines

Harry Potter Franchise: Barty Crouch Jr., Cedric Diggory, Cormac McLaggen, Gilderoy Lockhart, Oliver Wood, Severus Snape

Marvel: Benjamin Poindexter, Billy Russo, Bucky Barnes, Frank Castle, Loki Laufeyson, Matt Murdock, Peter Parker (Andrew!Peter only), Tony Stark, Wade Wilson

Saw Franchise: Mark Hoffman, William Schenk

Scream Franchise: Dewey Riley, Jill Roberts, Mickey Altieri, Richie Kirsch

The Walking Dead: Beth Greene, Gareth, Merle Dixon, Shane Walsh

If interested in working something out, please message me (highly preferred) or like this post and I'll message you.

.

[riley-summers]

Not me getting all emotional because I keep thinking about how Riley and Maggie should have had a happy ending

(i've got the Riley x Maggie brainrot bad)

(I love them both so much.)

[on-this-day-btvs]

February 8, 2000

The I in Team aired for BTVS season 4, episode 13. Riley gives Buffy a tour of the Initiative. Professor Maggie Walsh is not only Buffy's professor for her Intro to Psych class, but she is also the director of The Initiative. The Initiative is Riley's military organization.

Professor Walsh tries but fails to lead Buffy into a trap. In the middle of a eulogy of sorts for Buffy, she is interrupted. Buffy speaks to Professor Walsh on a video monitor.

BUFFY: Turns out it was me trapped in the sewers with a faulty weapon and two of your pet demons. If you think that's enough to kill me, you really don't know what a Slayer is... Trust me when I say you're gonna find out.

Sadly for Professor Walsh this is her next to last appearance on the show. Professor Walsh is played by Lindsay Crouse and is in nine episodes of BTVS, all in season 4.

Unrelated to BTVS, Lindsay Crouse played a divorced woman named Grace in a 1995 movie called Bye Bye Love. One of Grace's children is Meg, who is played by Amber Benson, who plays Tara in BTVS. One of Meg's friends is Emma, who is played by Eliza Dushku, who plays Faith in BTVS.

[luasworks]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ boundaries

introduction ౨ৎ masterlist

—

requesting !!

౨ৎ my requests are open

౨ৎ all requests are welcome (as long as they don’t go against my boundaries) in my messages and asks. questions and thoughts that you have are also welcome and appreciated

౨ৎ if i don’t feel comfortable with a request, it will be ignored and deleted !!

—

nsfw chapters !!

౨ৎ all of my works in general are written and published for mature readers (17+) however, all specifically nsfw chapters will have warnings before each fic because i know that even some mature people don’t like mature topics.

౨ৎ i do check bios every so often so if your age isn’t displayed or if you’re underage, you will be blocked !!

౨ৎ my fics will include topics such as; smut, angst fluff and harsh language mainly and possibly some mental health stuff if requested as i know characters can help people a lot. my fics might also include gore descriptions and possibly harsher topics than described. please read the warnings if any of this might trigger you.

—

my boundaries !!

what i will write

౨ৎ fem!reader, masc!reader, gn!reader and trans!reader

౨ৎ smut, fluff and angst

౨ৎ most kinks (bdsm, s&m, everything in those sub categories and more)

what i will not write

౨ৎ scat (at all), piss (circumstances) or vomit (at all - except for minor descriptions)

౨ৎ p3doph1lia or large age gaps (7-10 year age gap MAXIMUM !!)

౨ৎ explicit s3lf-h4rm descriptions (comfort fics are allowed but i will not be writing injury detail for that specific thing)

౨ৎ character x character. however, character x reader x character will be accepted (example: könig x reader x ghost is okay but i don’t write stuff like Ghoap)

—

in addition !!

౨ৎ any hate, harassment, bullying, homophobia, racism, transphobia, etc will be removed, reported and blocked !!

౨ৎ if you are unsure about if i will write a fic you want to request, my messages are always open for questions as well as my asks

[darkdoverpseeker]

21+. She/Her. Looking for some of random fandom roleplays. Please be 21+ to interact!

I prefer plotting on Tumblr and writing on Discord. I write in third person, past tense. Semi-lit/lit (2-4 paragraphs). I try my hardest to reply daily. Depending on how the work week is going, it may take 2-3 days to hear back from me, though. NSFW/smut greatly preferred (with a healthy dose of plot) but not necessary.

I'm mainly interested in canon x canon pairings (MxM, FxF, or MxF). I'll take on some canon x OC (only MxM or FxF). I like canon or canon divergent plots. As long as the plot makes sense within the universe, I'll generally be okay with it.

I'll just be listing the muses I'm most interested in writing as at the moment. I can write others for most of the fandoms. I have my favorite ships but I'm open to discussing doing pretty much anything.

Doctor Who: Eleventh Doctor, Fifth Doctor, Fourteenth Doctor, Sixth Doctor

Fantastic Beasts: Albus Dumbledore, Theseus Scamander

Game of Thrones: Jaime Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Roose Bolton, Stannis Baratheon

Ghost BC: Cardinal Copia, Papa Emeritus IV

Grand Theft Auto V: Michael De Santa, Steve Haines

Harry Potter Franchise: Barty Crouch Jr., Cedric Diggory, Cormac McLaggen, Gilderoy Lockhart, Oliver Wood, Severus Snape

Marvel: Benjamin Poindexter, Billy Russo, Bucky Barnes, Frank Castle, Loki Laufeyson, Matt Murdock, Peter Parker (Andrew!Peter only), Tony Stark, Wade Wilson

Saw Franchise: Mark Hoffman, William Schenk

Scream Franchise: Dewey Riley, Jill Roberts, Mickey Altieri, Richie Kirsch

The Walking Dead: Beth Greene, Gareth, Merle Dixon, Shane Walsh

If interested in working something out, please message me (highly preferred) or like this post and I'll message you.

.

[findroleplay]

It's that time of year!

21+. She/Her. EST. Looking for some horror fandom roleplays.

Please be 21+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I write on Discord but like to stay on Tumblr for plotting so my Discord doesn't get too cluttered. I write in third person, past tense. Semi-lit/lit. I care more about quality than quantity so I don't mind how much you write, as long as I have something to work with. I work full-time Monday through Friday so replies won't happen every day. I try my hardest to get replies out within 2-3 days. Because of the nature of these fandoms, I'm looking for some darker plots so NSFW will be involved. I'm fine with that NSFW including smut. It is a preference but not a requirement.

I'm open to canon x canon pairings (MxM, FxF, or MxF) or canon x OC (MxM or FxF only). I prefer canon or canon divergent plots. I'll only say no to AUs that are way out there--i.e., bear hardly any resemblance to the canon universe for the fandoms.

I will be listing the fandoms I'm looking for and my biggest muse(s). I'm open to discussing ships. Anyone in bold is a muse I'm particularly dying to write as at the moment.

American Horror Story: Hotel - John Lowe, Will Drake

American Psycho - Patrick Bateman

Behind the Mask - Leslie Vernon

Evil Dead Franchise - Ash Williams

The Exorcist (TV Show) - Marcus Keane, Tomas Ortega

Halloween Franchise - Allyson Nelson, Michael Myers, Vicky

NBC Hannibal - Brian Zeller, Frederick Chilton, Will Graham

Hostel - Josh Brooks, Paxton Rodriguez

Killer Klowns from Outer Space - Dave Hanson, Debbie Stone,

Mike Tobacco

The Lost Boys - David

Saw Franchise - Mark Hoffman, William Schenk

Scream Franchise - Billy Loomis, Dewey Riley, Jill Roberts, Mickey Altieri, Richie Kirsch

The Stand (mainly the book and TV mini series) - Randall Flagg

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Franchise - Tex Sawyer

The Walking Dead - Beth Greene, Gareth, Merle Dixon, Paul Rovia, Shane Walsh

If interested in working something out, please message me (preferred) or like this post and I'll message you.

-

[catty-words]

☕️ + buffy s4?

while it didn't have the chance to be its best self with the early departure of walsh's actor, i'm wholly swayed by @impalementation's writings on the season (x, x) and think that it still manages thematic cohesion, re: institutions and institutionalized identity. i am also sensitive to the fact that the moral conundrum of the season being filtered through riley more than buffy contributes to how weak it comes off compared to other seasons.

all that said, it's always been a favorite of mine simply because it's fun!! the stakes are relatively low and the kids are having wacky one-off adventures and i languish in delight!

i also think it's one of the best executions of a high school drama moving its characters into a new chapter of their lives without sacrificing the foundational tone of the piece. this, of course, goes back to the way the show as a whole is concerned with identity and the way the season in particular wants to interrogate university's place in scripting our identities.

in summation: underrated, but understandably so.

send me ☕️ + [topic] and i’ll tell you my opinion on it!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, brief mentions of sex, discussions of canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Party Twenty of Ink & Needle

You seek comfort in Simon’s arms. Johnny comes for a visit. Walsh’s plan starts to be revealed.

Chapter Nineteen

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Simon’s skin is sticky with sweat.

Last night, you ran to him with tears in your eyes and his name on your tongue. Simon took you into his arm and offered you his body without question.

 He had you up against the wall with your legs locked behind him, shaking the decorations on the wall with each thrust. Simon dragged you to the floor after he came inside you. Putting his mouth to your sex, he ate you senseless. When you were boneless and soft, Simon wrapped you up in his arms, bringing you to his bed. The rest of the night, Simon worshipped your body, and whatever was on your mind seemed forgotten after the third orgasm.

Now it’s morning, and Simon stares at the ceiling.

He runs his tongue over his teeth and sighs. Your scent is still on his skin, and you taste lingers on his lips. The very thought brings a smile forth, the pride in his chest swelling at how pliant and good you were for him last night. Simon turns his head, glancing at the woman beside him. You’re completely out, curled up in the bedding like a burrito. All he can see of you is a nest of hair.

Simon has no plan to wake you. You deserve rest, and whatever it is that sent you to him in the dark, you’ll tell him in time. Never have you pushed him, and Simon respects that by not pushing you back. He hasn’t always been good about it, but after Scotland, he wants to try. Desperately.

Slowly, Simon slips out of the bed, heading into the bathroom. He quickly brushes his teeth and splashes some cold water onto his face. Rubbing the back of his neck, Simon looks at himself in the mirror. Sometimes he sees his father looking back, but all Simon sees is a ghost.

He takes note of his body as he does every morning. The bad knee aches, and his usual pains are there, but there isn’t any flare up. Nothing is bothering him more than it usually is. That at least is something Simon can work with.

Returning to the bedroom, Simon finds you turned over in the bed, one arm outstretched over the space he previously occupied. You’ve unraveled from the sheets, exposing bare leg and a portion of your stomach. Even in sleep, you seek him. Knowing that you’re naked under there sends a burning need through his blood. It travels southward, hardening what was previously soft.

The corner of Simon’s mouth twitches with a smile. You’re adorable, and fucking sexy. Simon saunters over to the side of the bed. Lifting the sheets, he slides back in, lifting your arm so he can settle in beside you. You groan in annoyance, eyelids fluttering, snuggling closer to Simon as he releases your arm. It drapes over his chest and stomach, your fingers curling in slightly, the tips of your nails scratching his skin.

“Good morning,” you murmur, the hand on Simon’s stomach descending slightly.

“Morning, love,” replies Simon, voice still gravelly from sleep.

Your hand travels further south. Simon notices but dismisses it. He drapes his arm over your back to drag you into a kiss. At the moment his lips find yours, your hand wraps around the base of him, stroking lazily.

“What are you doing?” asks Simon against your lips. Beneath the question is desire. Simon loves it when you touch him. When you seek him first, it drives his possessiveness higher. You’re all his, and you knowing this pleases him.

You return the smile and gently squeeze, thumb rubbing over the sensitive head. It sends a bolt of pleasure through him, his dick swelling with need.

Fucking hell.

“Do you not like it?” you tease, giving him another pump.

“I like it very much,” growls Simon, as you slightly change pace.

A possessive wave roils up, seizing Simon’s control. He grabs hold of the front of your neck, the size of his hand against your throat a marvel to him. In this, Simon is the dangerous one—the one that can easily break if you he tried. You’ve put your trust in him. You seek him for safety and comfort. That undoes him, twisting between and around his ribs until it clenches his heart.

You whimper at Simon’s touch. Using his leverage on his throat, Simon pushes you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. He goes in for another sweet kiss, grinding his hardness against your sex. Your hips flex, meeting him, and Simon groans into your mouth.

For Simon, you are fucking sweet. A treasure.

Grasping your hips, Simon turns you onto your side, pressing your back against his front. Slipping a hand between your legs, Simon lifts the top one by the thigh, giving him access. There is no resistance. You’re soft in his hands. Perfect. Wanton.

With his other hand, Simon guides himself between, sliding in to the hilt. You moan loudly, head falling back against his shoulder.

“You feel so fucking good, love,” groans Simon into your ear.

Simon has no idea if you’ve heard him, because he is lost after the words leave his mouth, pumping ferociously. Your exhalations are sharp and breathy. They float outward and up to the ceiling. All Simon understands is your body, and the luscious sounds you make.

Simon nuzzles your neck, grunting with each thrust. His bad knee aches but he doesn’t give a bloody fuck about it. The only thing that matters is how you feel around him, and how much he adores this closeness. He wants you all the time, and when you are here, he wants to take every advantage.

When you clench and spasm, Simon’s lower back and groin tighten. With one hand pressed to your lower belly, Simon holds himself inside you, giving you every drop.

The two of you linger like this for a bit, and when Simon finally retreats, he guides two fingers between your legs, stopping his release from escaping. He presses it back in, leaving gentle kisses against the curve of your shoulder. Reaching behind you, your fingers finding the back of his neck.

You scratch there with the tips of your nails and Simon’s eye close, tiredness returning with every pass. He’d love to stay like this. But Simon has to open up shop today, and you might have things to do on your agenda.

As badly as he wants to say, Simon forces himself to say the words.

“Ready for a shower?” whispers Simon into your ear.

You hum contentedly. It’s answer enough.

Dragging you from bed and into his arms, Simon carries you into the shower with him. Even there, he does not stop touching you until your moans fill the steamy room. When the two of you dried off and dressed, Simon makes breakfast.

“Want to tell me what happened?” asks Simon, bringing his tea mug to his lips.

He leans against the counter, waiting for the toaster to spit out his bagel. Simon is going to load it up with eggs, bacon, cheese. He needs something greasy and filling.

Your hand briefly pauses above Bravo’s back. Simon notices this hesitation, but it’s a slight thing. You return to scratching him like nothing is wrong at all. Bravo’s tail thump thump thumps against the kitchen floor.

“You think something happened?” you sigh, moving to scratch between Bravo’s ears. The German Shepard leans into the scratches, tongue lolling out to the side with contentment.

Simon knows you’re hiding something, and while he isn’t interested in pushing, he does want you to talk to him.

“Showed up late,” replies Simon, shrugging. “Didn’t call.”

You had tears in your eyes.

But Simon doesn’t speak it. He doesn’t want to corner you.

“Sorry for that.”

Simon frowns and strolls over to you. Placing his hand on the back of your head, Simon leans down. You answer his touch, seeking him just as he seeks you. The kiss is slow and a bit chaste. Simon offers up another, and you take that one too.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “Want to make sure you’re okay.”

Your smile is a bit sad, and Simon goes in for another kiss, wanting to turn it into a genuine one. He makes sure each is deep and intimate, playfully teasing with a quick nip before pulling away. This time, your smile is broad and delicious.

“It’s just family drama,” you answer.

“Your family?” asks Simon.

You shrug. “Evie’s family. But she’s like my sister. So I suppose it’s the same.”

Simon sets his tea mug onto the table, sliding into the chair next to you. “Anything you want to tell me?” The toaster goes off but Simon ignores it.

Your lips part before you glance away. “I regret not calling you yesterday.”

Simon blinks. “You don’t ever have to call me before coming over. Gave you a key for a reason.”

“Not that,” you laugh. Your smile is brief. “Earlier in the day. I should have called you immediately.”

That doesn’t sit well with him. Leaning forward, Simon places a hand on your knee. “Tell me what happened.”

Your exhalation is laced with exhaustion. “Archie’s parents stopped by. They tried to convince Evie to hand over parental rights to them.”

Simon’s grip on your knee tightens. “They demanded Lillian.”

That’s fucking fresh, but Simon isn’t shocked at all. After nearly knocking Adam off his chair at the pub, it’s no surprise the rest of the family is fucking vile.

“They didn’t leave with her,” you amend, tone a bit softer.

“Good,” growls Simon.

You place your hand on Simon’s, fingers intertwining. “It was messy. Stressful. I just needed to get away.”

“How do you feel now?”

You glance up, and the smile you give him goes straight to his dick. “I’m much better.”

The morning continues to be better for you because Simon sees to it. He feeds you a filling breakfast, and then takes you to the couch for another round of sex before you reluctantly leave him. Simon insists on walking you home, but you want some time to yourself before returning to Amelia’s. The two of you compromise on the door that exits on the street.

Simon kisses you the entire way out the door and down the stairs, drawing you back to him with each one. No matter of much your squirm or try to avoid him, Simon manages to snag you back, peppering you with kisses.

But it’s Friday.

The day Johnny said to expect him.

And Simon has his fucking job to do.

141 Ink is sup and open in record time. There is a buzzing beneath Simon’s skin. Maybe it’s all the sex he’s had, but he feels fucking good. Everything is in order. Everything is as it should be. You are his. 141 Ink is thriving. Simon is growing. Changing.

Slipping the balaclava on, Simon welcomes the first client of the day. Most of today’s bookings are piercings. Piercings don’t take long, and Simon made sure to book his schedule tight to make up for the lack of ink work. Of all the bookings today, only two are tattoos, both of whom are wanting smaller pieces that won’t take him more than hour or so to complete.

Simon falls into focus. He keeps his attention tight, all worries slipping away. The clients have his attention, and the day passes quickly.

After the last client leaves, Simon starts closing up. Johnny didn’t tell Simon when to expect him, just that he’d show up today. It’s already late, and if Johnny doesn’t arrive soon, he won’t linger in the shop too much longer.

At his desk, Simon decides to tidy the area. He really needs to fucking check his email but that’s work for another day. Shifting the paperwork around, Simon discovers a reminder.

Simon stares down at the sketches. Sketches meant for you. You asked him to tattoo you, and Simon still plans on it, but he wants it to be special. He’s narrowed it down to five with plans on redesigning each to see which he might like best. But the final decision will be a gift.

Something special to give to you.

Taking extreme care, Simon places the sketches into a neat pile on his desk, and sets them atop his sketchbook. His fingers linger against the topmost sketch. The charcoal sticks to the tips of his fingers.

The soft chime of 141 Ink’s front door opening snags Simon’s attention.

A familiar face walks through the door, and Simon grins behind the balaclava, pushing off the desk to greet his friend.

“Johnny,” calls Simon, striding toward him. “Wondered when you—”

Johnny holds up a hand and Simon comes to an abrupt stop. The raised hand forms into just an extended index finger that Johnny brings to his lips, indicating silence. Simon remains frozen, his gaze focused in on Johnny.

From his pocket, Johnny retrieves his phone. He types something out and then holds the phone up, screen-side facing Simon.

Someone might be listening.

What the fuck does that mean? Someone might be listening?

Johnny pockets his phone and glances around 141 Ink, his gaze assessing. Simon knows that look. It’s that military training kicking in. Does Johnny think there’s a bug somewhere in Simon’s shop? The idea seems absurd, but he’s never doubted Johnny before.

Then, Simon recalls the rest of the text.

It’s Walsh.

Coldness seeps in to Simon’s blood.

Simon lightly punches Johnny’s arm, grabbing his attention. He frowns at Simon, one eyebrow slightly arched in question. Like a light switch being flicked on, Simon returns to his history of violence.

Simon indicates he’ll take the back area while Johnny conquers the front with a few hand signals. Johnny nods, understanding. The two of them have done shit like this before but in far more dangerous places.

They split up, working through everything. Every drawer is opened and checked for false bottoms, lights are disconnected and inspected, vent coverings are removed and piping is cleared.

Nothing turns up. 141 Ink is clear.

Johnny and Simon meet in the middle of the shop. There’s a tension in Johnny’s jaw that Simon doesn’t like. He needs to know what the fuck is going on.

“Why would someone be listening, Johnny?” asks Simon, swallowing down an angry growl.

The very idea of someone invading Simon’s personal space infuriates him. This is home, his fucking business. He might share this space with Bravo but he’s also been sharing this space with you. And your safety is fucking everything to Simon.

“We should check your flat,” replies Johnny, avoiding the question.

“My flat?” scoffs Simon. “What the bloody hell is going on, Johnny?”

Something is wrong, really fucking wrong. Johnny never avoids question. The two of them have always been close, and the respect runs deep. It almost hurts that Johnny isn’t being completely truthful yet.

Johnny’s sigh is heavy. “Let’s check your flat first, Lt.”

Upstairs, they tackle the space together, going room by room. The process is slow, but this is Simon’s personal space. Neither of them wants to break anything. If this were a different place, they wouldn’t care about breaking shit. But this is Simon’s home, and the possible intrusion is personal.

Simon expects to find nothing—that Johnny is overreacting.

But Johnny isn’t.

He’s completely fucking right.

Johnny finds a microphone in the overhead light in the living room. Simon finds another microphone in his bedroom, this one hidden in the bedside alarm clock he never uses.

The offending devices look like beetles on the living room floor. Simon stares down at them, wanting to know who the fuck has been listening in on him. It’s certainly not SAS. They have no reason to, and it’s not British Intelligence. Those retirement papers were signed and Simon wiped his hands of the whole fucking thing.

This is far more sinister.

Simon grabs a nearby notepad and scribbles across the page, holding it up to Johnny.

Can you trace the transmission?

Johnny shrugs.

Maybe. It’s not promising but it’s something. Johnny bends down on one knee. Simon watches as he starts taking the microphone apart. His fingers are steady, and once the transmitter is disconnected, Johnny drops the tiny microphones and smashes them under his boot.

The sound is satisfying.

“I’ll take these to Price,” says Johnny, presenting his open palm.

The transmitters are small—nearly pea size.

“What do you think the range is?” asks Simon, staring down at the transmitters.

Johnny shrugs. “Can’t be too far. These are bloody fucking tiny. Perhaps a block or two.”

“A block or two?”

“I’m only guessing, Lt. Better at blowing things up.”

Simon grunts in acknowledgement. “You better start fucking talking, Johnny.”

“Might need a bloody drink first, Lt.”

Simon strides over to his personal bar. Grabbing two tumblers, Simon brings them to the kitchen table along with a bottle of scotch. He pours Johnny a heft portion, and the man knocks it back, slamming it down. Simon tops him off.

The two of them sit, the silence stretching for a bit. Johnny sighs heavily and runs his hands over his face. The transmitters sit in the middle of the table like an ill omen.

Johnny takes a sip of his scotch. “We had a month-long mission. Lots of surveillance. Infiltration.”

“You’re good at that.”

“Bloody fucking right,” quips Johnny. He takes another sip, grimacing slightly. “We were watching some of Walsh’s compounds.”

Simon frowns. “Were they actually his?”

“A few,” shrugs Johnny. “We had to move quietly. You know how he works.”

Simon knows exactly how Walsh works. He purposefully makes friends with people in the government as a means to cover up his activities. When he’s not making nice with politicians, he makes nice with extremist groups and religious leaders. Kit Walsh is only after what he wants, and he will seek those goals out with anyone willing to give him some leverage.

“At first, the circle was pretty wide. Wasn’t just one-four-one handling things. But information was leaking from somewhere. Laswell and Price were furious. Walsh and his cronies kept slipping through our fucking fingers.”

Johnny finishes his scotch and he pours himself another. “Every time we went to raid a place it’d be fucking empty. Cleared out. Nothing.” Johnny makes a face before taking a sip. “Circle started to tighten after that.”

“You find the snitch?”

Johnny nods. “Sure did. But we couldn’t do anything. Our mission wasn’t ‘sanctioned’ or some other bullocks.”

Simon shakes his head. “Someone working behind the scenes then.”

“Yeah,” nods Johnny. “Government level and military. We know who Walsh likely paid off but sticking that accusation is going to be fucking difficult.”

“So everything is happening under the radar?”

“For now,” confirms Johnny. “We have to pretend like we’re not touching the guy but neither Price or Laswell plan on letting this bastard walk free. Not after everything.”

It explains a few things but not much. There are still so many unanswered questions.

“And what about me, Johnny?” asks Simon. “Why is someone listening in on me?”

Johnny grimaces and then finishes off more scotch. He reaches for the bottle and Simon snags it out from under him.

“Talk to me, Johnny,” says Simon.

“Pour me some scotch first,” he counters. Simon stares him down and Johnny laughs. “I fucking deserve it.”

Simon shoves the bottle toward him and Johnny snatches it up, filling his glass.

“Someone found out that it was you we talked to.”

“What?”

Johnny sighs. “Someone found out Price, Gaz, and I talked to you. They told Walsh. He knows, Simon.”

Fragments of memory return suddenly and violently. Simon is thrust back into that tiny parking lot in Edinburgh when he saw a shadow of a man leaning against Simon’s car. Simon recognized the stance and shape. He thought it was Walsh then, and with Johnny’s confession, it likely was.

And it’s not just that one moment. There were others—like the time you and Simon had breakfast at the little café down the street. How Simon had glanced across the street and saw a familiar yet burned face.

Simon dismissed all those moments, believing they meant absolutely nothing—that his old demons were simply awakening to bite as snarl at him.

Wrong. Completely wrong.

“You think Walsh had these planted?” nods Simon at the transmitters.

Johnny remains quiet but that’s answer enough. Scowling, Simon has to force down the rising anger. He wants to punch the fucking wall. To know that Walsh invaded his home and walked amongst his things, enrages Simon.

And it’s not only that.

Simon has no idea when these were planted. It certainly had to happen well before yesterday which means whoever is listening on the other end has not only heard Simon but heard you. With one of them planted in the bedroom, it’s likely that whoever is listening in heard every one of your moans.

That is vicious. A violation.

You are his. Your pleasure is only for Simon’s ears.

“What are the next steps?” asks Simon, clearing his throat.

The issue is that Simon isn’t part of the military anymore. He has no foot in this race. Whatever Price and Laswell have planned is out of his control. But know what might be coming can help him figure out what his next steps need to be. Protecting you is the most important thing to him.

“There are a few more compounds we’ve been looking at. Gaz has been on surveillance. Keeping tabs.”

“But you haven’t found him?” asks Simon.

Johnny shakes his head. “No. But we’ve taken out a few of his contacts. Intercepted a few weapons shipments.” Johnny shrugs. “We seized a forty-foot shipping container full of drugs out from under him. Walsh was trading it for weapons.”

“Bet he hated that,” snorts Simon.

“Oh, I’m sure,” replies Johnny with a smile. It’s a brief grin, one that disappears quickly. “It’s not enough though. We’ve made ground but it’s small. No one is happy.”

It’s not surprising. It took Simon nearly a year before he was able to get close enough to Walsh to kill him. But he didn’t kill him. He might have shoved a blade into his chest and watched him fall into flames, but even that couldn’t take the man out. This time, it better happen with a bullet. One that strikes true and between the eyes.

“You have any idea where he might be?” asks Simon.

“He’s back in Europe. We know that for certain. Whatever he did in the States is over. Laswell believes he was schmoozing. Looking for donors to his cause.”

“Yeah, well, Walsh enjoys spending other peoples’ cash. It’s why we had such a hard time tracking him.”

Johnny lifts the bottle of scotch and inspects the liquid within. “And I enjoy other peoples’ liquor.”

“You drive here, Johnny?”

“Nope.” He brings the bottle to his lips, drinking deep.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Simon, snagging the bottle out from Johnny’s grasp.

Johnny chuckles, cheeks a bit flushed from the alcohol. He leans forward and places his arms on the kitchen table. “I’m real sorry, Lt. We never wanted you to get messed up in this.”

“It’s not your fault, Johnny. You didn’t plant these. You didn’t tell Walsh I helped you.”

“I know.”

Simon pushes up from his chair and takes the now empty bottle to the sink. Setting it down, he comes back to the table, arms crossed over his chest. “Stay here for the night. Take the couch.”

“Do I get a blanket?” teases Johnny.

Simon glances at the couch where there’s a throw blanket and pillow already waiting for him.

“How’d you know?”

“I fucking didn’t.”

Johnny laughs. Simon removes the tumblers from the table, adding them to the dishwasher. When Simon turns around, Johnny stares out in the living room, a crease in his brow.

“Price doesn’t believe Walsh is coming after you.”

Simon frowns. “It wasn’t really on my mind. But I did run him through.”

“Aye. Lt. You did.” Johnny strides over to the sofa, grabbing the blanket off the back. He shakes it out and holds it up. It won’t cover him completely. If anything, it looks fucking small compared to Johnny’s broadness.

“Is this for a fucking child?” asks Johnny.

Simon rolls his eyes and pulls out a sheet from the closet. “Here, you wanker.”

Johnny does a pretend bow and before he fluffs the pillow. Simon knows Johnny is only trying to lift his spirits. This situation with Walsh is fucked—a complete mess. But Simon has confidence in Price and Laswell. If they don’t believe Walsh is coming after Simon, he’ll take their word. But that doesn’t mean he won’t keep an eye out.

“You should take her away for a bit,” says Johnny.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your woman. Take her somewhere. Get away.”

“We were just at the cottage, Johnny.”

He shrugs. “I know, but—” He pauses. “Might be good.”

“Could I bring her for Christmas?”

Johnny turns in Simon’s direction. “Of course you can. Mum would love that.”

Simon nods. “I’ll handle it, Johnny.”

“I know you will, Lt.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @lialacleaf @unhinged-reader-36

@miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @creamwhxre @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @ninman82 @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @theshrikeandcanary

@yawning-grave81 @knight4xmas @jupiternighties @corvusmorte @darling006

@azkza @nishim @carma-fanficaddict @haven-1307 @voids-universe

@itsberrydreemurstuff @i-feel-violated @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@statixx-x @umno-yeah @webmvie @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @aykxz98 @kadeeesworld @xxkay15xx @iloveslasher

@sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky @suhmie @cinnabeanz @rogerrhqpsody