#nyx writes ☾

[midnightarcheress]

i know i just said that i was on a break, but casino!141 was giving me an itch, so here we are. phone writing, bear with me.

cw: nsfw. slightest dub-con at first? poly!141 is arising. cockwarming. simon talks you through it. f!reader. 3 | more casino!141

your footsteps echoes in the hallway, soundwaves ricocheting on the walls of the far too quiet casino. it's strange being there during the day, accompanied only by the more avid gamblers who need their fix, even when most lights are off.

"come in." John's voice travels from inside the office after your brisk knock and you open the door, quickly stepping in the room and opening your mouth to speak, but your jaw closes shut when you realize you're not alone with him.

he's sitting behind a desk overflowing with papers, cigar long forgotten on the ashtray, but your attention is diverted to the masked individual standing beside it, hazel eyes boring into your skull with an unerving stare. "hello, Ace."

his voice can't be described as tranquilizing, but the tone is a stark contrast from the glare. it's almost tender, alluring, and for a split second you forget what you were going to say. "uhm, Kyle said you wanted to see me?" your head turns back to John, offering him a timid smile.

"yes, that's correct." he leans back on the chair, rolling his tense shoulders and tilting his head in your direction, "Simon and i are working through some documents, you know, bookkeeping, management, the boring stuff behind the slot machines," you nod, attentively listening but not truly following, "and i'm needing some of your assistance."

"i'm sorry? assistance?" your brows knit together, confused by his words. he chuckles, index finger raised in the air motioning for you to come closer, and you swear you hear Simon snorting at the interaction.

you walk to the table and stand on his side, eyes darting between the pile of files and the malicious glint in his blue irises. his hand meets your waist and your sight drops from his face, down to his torso, down to his... bulge. "you see, Ace, you're always so good in helping me concentrate during the games, we might as well try something new, yeah?"

his fingers graze your hips, tracing down your sides and reaching behind your thighs, causing a shiver on your spine. "John, i–" a soft 'shh' comes out of his lips, and he starts unbuckling his belt, raising himself just enough so that his trousers can come to his knees.

heat spreads up your chest, your neck, your cheeks, and your vision swerves to the ceiling, mind racing with embarrassment and bewilderment. from the corner of your eye you peek into Simon's direction, and to your surprise, he's completely unfazed.

Price drags you closer, hiking up your shirt just enough to expose your belly, pressing long kisses on the flesh while his hands knead your ass. you shouldn’t give in so easy, you have a better judgement than that, but his touch is so enticing, soft, easily mistaken by loving, that you find it hard to define what's right and wrong – or to define if you really want this.

when he pops open the button of your pants, you know you're done for. even if your brain settled for a 'no', he wouldn't care, considering the amount of pre-cum leaking from his throbbing cock. the damp spot between your legs wouldn't care either.

he pulls your bottoms down slowly, trailing pecks from your navel to your mound. you're nervous, dangerously close to a cardiac arrest when he flips you around hastily, slap on your ass cheek making your body jolt forward.

a firm hand guide your hips to his crotch, while the other positions his cock on your entrance, teasingly stroking the folds to gather your slick. "deep breath for me." he's gentle, pressing kisses on your back while you sink into his length, the pain of the sudden stretch being easily overpowered by the wave of pleasure washing over you. "that's it, love." he groans, squeezing your waist when you finally hit the base, "now just sit pretty while i work, hm?"

you nod, pathetically so, biting your bottom lip to swallow back your moans. you imagined it would be big, and maybe you just needed to be prepared, but fuck, you were filled. John started ruffling through the papers again, meticulously skimming the words like his tip wasn't brushing your cervix whenever you dared to adjust yourself.

"you have to stop squirming, Ace."

your head snaps up to the side the sound came from, and you face Simon's piercing glare. he still holds one of the documents, but his focus is solely on you, an underlying primal desire hidden behind his gaze that makes your stomach flutter.

he chuckles, leaning in front of you, arms almost close enough to cage you over the table. "does it feel that good? having Price's cock stuffing your sweet cunt?" he patronizes, tapping your cheek to get your attention back on his eyes, "i bet it does."

if you had the energy, you'd curse him out, but you're lost in how good you're feeling, even with minimal friction. you look up to him, pitifully doe-eyed as a moan escapes your lips, "go on, pretty girl, feel it. it's pulsing, isn't it? each vein hitting the perfect spots." you grip the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white from the strength, desperately trying to ignore the smallest twitches of his shaft inside of you, "you want him to move, right?"

you hum, writhing on his lap to convince John into forgeting whatever business he has to do at the moment and just fuck you already. "you'll have to wait, Ace." you whine, looking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. his gaze doesn't shift, but you note the slight blush creeping up his collar and you smirk, content that he seems to be suffering too, even if it's barely.

"if you're lucky, he might reward you later. throw all of that shite on the floor and bend you over the table." your walls immediately clench at the idea, coaxing a grunt out of Price. "and you are a lucky girl, aren't you?" a breathy 'yes' comes out of your mouth, and Simon's thumb brushes your lower lip, smearing the tiny drop of spit on the corner over your pout.

your thighs tremble, clit aching and begging for some stimuli, toes curling at the mere thought of being fully claimed by John. "be patient." he deigns, and you don't miss the smirk marking the black fabric of his covering. bastard. his hungry expression only makes you wetter, needier, disoriented by lust, and you absentmindedly nod, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves and wait. painfully wait.

but the action ultimately falters the second Simon's low whisper reach your ears, striking you like electricity, "good girl."

ideas for this are always welcomed mwah

#captain john price #john price #price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #simon riley x you #price x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #price x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #casino!141 #captain price smut #price smut #ghost cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #f!reader #fem!reader #casino au #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 

"You did." 

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.” 

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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#acotar #azriel #original character #fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #shadowsinger x reader #acotar series #fanfiction #acotar writing #azriel fic

[moonlit-femme]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ A Simple Intro ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Salutations... My name name is Nyx. I am a 20 year old sapphic and I use she/they pronouns. I am more likely going to use this as a primarily use this as a side blog for horny and yearning posts, so if that's not your thing then that's fine.

A little more about me... I am a PoC femme switch but I tend to lean bottom and dominant. I absolutely adore the occasional tease in DMs or my asks, . So anons and DMs are welcome as long as you're respectful.

Some kinks I indulge in.... light BDSM, worship (body and otherwise), praise, overstim, breeding, pet play (leashes/collars/puppy play especially), power bottoming, CNC. somno, knotting, free use, light bondage, degradation, grinding, strap-ons, etc (DM or ask if you want to know more)...

Before you interact... this blog is for 18+ sapphics only (butch, femme, neither, both, idc, you're all amazing to me), I tend to use both parts interchangeably (pussy/cock/etc), I try to use as much gender neutral language as possible but sometimes I will forget

Do not interact... Men (Trans-mascs okay and welcomed), Under 18, radfems, rasicts, raceplay, ageplay, age regressors, bigots, incest kink

I follow back from @the-rose-void

Tags

#moonlit femme - for all posts

#moonlit femme drabbles - for writing excerpts

#moonlit femme asks - for answered asks

#moonlit femme tmi - for kinda personal posts

If you really would like to get to know me. Feel free to reach out. I do have other non-horny interests...

#lesbian #sapphic #smut #queer nsft #queer ns/fw #lesbian switch #femme lesbian #wlw #wlw ns/fw #sapphic nsft #wlw nsft #hornyposting #fem domme #fem switch #slutty blog #femme4butch #femme4femme #femme4masc #femme4all #moonlit femme

[katsigian]

✧. ⊹┊     ᴋᴀᴛꜱɪɢɪᴀɴ'ꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ + ᴏᴄ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛᴏʀʏ

✧. ⊹┊     ʟɪɴᴋꜱ

« Instagram | Carrd | Mods I've Made | Kofi »

✧. ⊹┊     ᴛᴀɢꜱ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ

«katsi.cp77»  «katsi.bg3» «katsi.png» «art» ─⊹ for my virtual photography, gifs, and art

«tag games» «ask games» «mailbox»

«misc.txt» «misc.jpg» «misc.mp4» ─⊹ for non-fandom posts

«resources» «references» ─⊹ for useful things like templates and writing tips

«png dreams» ─⊹ for aesthetic pictures that aren't mine

✧. ⊹┊     Tracking #katsigian - feel free to tag me in your creations and edits, including OC stuff! Happy to be tagged in tag games!

✧. ⊹┊     All content is tagged for easy filtering, including video games, video game characters, and other media. I'll use their acronyms if available. I often use tags such as 'cyberpunk 2077', 'bg3', and 'vg reblogs'

✧. ⊹┊     I tag all NSFW content with both 'nsft' and 'nsfw' - it will be non-explicit and is entirely OTP or OC inspiration. Non NSFW content that's still has nudity will be tagged with 'suggestive'

✧. ⊹┊     I tag all triggering content as "trigger word + tw"

✧. ⊹┊     ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴏᴄꜱ

✧. ⊹┊    ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɪɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ; ᴠᴀʟᴇɴ ᴋɪɴʟᴀᴡ

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊ Valen is my most fleshed out and developed character. He's a competent, aggressive, and charismatic contractor for a private security company called Ares Systems. His work consists of various clandestine wetwork operations and specialized threat mitigation contacts. A headhunter, and a charming one at that when he wants to be. Valen is inherently talented in his line of work. He's the bad guy hunting other bad guys, which has earned him the alias 'the Saint'. He's made a career out of violence, partly because his vampire genetics dictate that he is a designed to be an apex predator. His love of the hunt and his skill as a hunter come naturally to him. Valen likes motorcycles, gin, snake plants, night life, cage fights, thunderstorms, bite marks, sex, and cigarettes. He's also very happily taken and has the ring (and marks) to prove it. Aside from the intimidating exterior, Valen is incredibly sweet and loving to his husband; having been the other half in two toxic relationships, he never wants to treat his loved ones the same way as he was treated.

« valen.png » « lore » « aesthetics »

« valen's pinterest » « valen's profile »

✧. ⊹┊   ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀꜱ

« vesper.png » « about vesper »

« vega.png » « about vega »

« saturnino.png » « about sat »

« gemini.png » « about gemini »

✧. ⊹┊    ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇꜱ

« nikita.png » « about nikita »

« noel.png » « about noel »

« kaito.png »« about kaito »

✧. ⊹┊   ʙɢ3 ᴏᴄꜱ

« Callistus Miresta » « Rhystiel Larkspell »

✧. ⊹┊    ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ʟᴏʀᴇ

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊I'm in the process of building my own Cyberpunk world that's modeled off of the TTRPG by Talsorian and Mike Pondsmith. It is a campaign of sorts where I'll be telling my character's stories. I've detached them from the video game itself. While I will still build this campaign within Night City and will retain some ambiguous lore from the game, I'm worldbuilding in a way that is far different from video game lore/canon as a whole. I'm calling it Nyx Aeterna and it blends the supernatural with cyberpunk. Night City looks only partly like it does in the videogame, because in my campaign, it looks more like Los Angeles with residential neighborhoods, more distinct districts, and more varied city design. There are also new gangs that I've created; Archangel, Chimera, Caliban, The Lucianos, and Ghost Run. In my campaign, werewolves, mages, and vampires coexist as Night City is a sort of safe haven, or neutral hub where they can live in relative safety. Conflicts between them still occur, but not to a grand scale.

«daywalker lore» «werewolf lore» «nyx aeterna lore»

✧. ⊹┊    ᴏᴛᴘ ᴛᴀɢꜱ (ᴏᴄ × ᴏᴄ)

« OTP Sun and Moon » « OTP Save a Horse »

« OTP New Tricks » « OTP Partners in Crime »

« OTP Moonlit Howls » « OTP Midnight Drive »

✧. ⊹┊   ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊I'll do my best to keep up with mutuals and to have friendly connections in fandom, but I do reserve the right to unfollow if something makes me uncomfortable. It's never personal or mean-spirited. I do not engage in any fandom or personal discourse/drama because I'm here to create/share things with people that make me happy

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊This is an 18+ blog and there will be NSFW here. Please, no minors. Ageless blogs will be blocked

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊Do not edit or repost my work anywhere. It's stealing

☾‧⁺˖⋆ ┊No renders, no AI

#blogkeeping #new directory! ♡ #blog directory

[sheepdawgiearts]

Get ready for some cringe OC lore....

I'm literally so embarrassed because I hate writing but what teh hell... (yes this is for oc x canon purposes sorry not sorry :P )

NAME: Nyx Tamaron GENDER: Female HEIGHT: 4'11 ft WEIGHT: 120 lbs AGE: 29 in human years BIRTHDAY: February 21st ZODIAC: Aquarius Pieces Cusp HOME PLANET: Vondem CLASS: Upper class background DIVISION: Science SPECIALITY: Planetary Geosciences RANK: Lieutenant Junior Grade

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

PERSONALITY: Ambitious, Opinionated, Whimsical, Blunt, Friendly, Cheerful, Polite, Perceptive, Relaxed, Neurotic, Short sighted, Gullible, Progressive

Nyx is a bubbly Orion who doesn't really fit in with others of her kind. Orions are known to be flirtatious and deceitful, a race that is always looking out for their best interest. Despite that she still possesses pragmatic views but is straightforward and honest with others even if people don't believe her. Nyx is quiet, closed off from her peers however she is eager when someone converses with her.  WHY SHE JOINED STARFLEET: Nyx was found during a raid on a Syndicate ship as cargo about to be sold into slavery. Feeling disillusioned by her people's culture and her interest in exploration she decided to enroll into the Starfleet Academy to broaden her horizon. ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

FAMILY AND BACKGROUND: Nyx was born into a wealthy Orion family in which her father had 6 concubines and 9 other offspring, all half siblings. Nyx being the youngest she got very little attention from her father up until he decided to exchange her to a rival family in which she would become the eldest son’s concubine. She was closer to her mother and picked up her mothers emotional needs. She could tell her mother wanted so much more despite having needs be met. In her pre pubescent stage Nyx discovers her mother wanted to be an archaeologist, which made sense to Nyx considering her mothers obsession with old Orion culture and emphasis on their daily lives. As Nyx came of age and  dealing with the expectations that follow the typical Orion woman she knew she didn't want her mothers life, she didn't want the lives of any Orion woman. Going through the process of having her hormonal potency checked felt so objectifying to her she grew disdain for her culture's view on sexuality. The concubines would train her in the sexual arts, a thing she saw as the worst period of her life. She swore from that day forward she would strive to make her mothers dream real and become an archaeologist. However that changed when her father traded her for his financial gain, this would lead to her most traumatic experience she had ever gone through. Months being scrutinized by her captors mother and having to commit sexual acts on a man she found repulsive as well as partaking in their opulent parties where she would do traditional dances and accepting others advances despite her disdain for it all.  Once she couldn't take it she ran away aboard a ship, it didn't matter, she unknowingly became a stowaway on a Syndicate ship. When she was caught and found to have extremely potent pheromones they took her as a potential slave they could sell for a high price on another planet, Orion females were considered valuable due to their unique anatomy. Fearing for her life she was prepared to take it not wanting to go back to being used as a commodity however when the ship was reprimanded by Starfleet this gave her a reason to live. This was where her life changed for the better, after being saved by Starfleet and talking to officers who freed her she took an interest in the mention of a science division. This was her chance to live out her mothers dream, her dream, to have a life outside the hedonist lifestyle on Vondem. She insisted they not return her to Vondem and instead let her go through the process of becoming a Starfleet officer.  Adjusting to the outside world was difficult and she dealt with micro aggressions due to her background. Orions had gained a poor reputation across the galaxies. It was hard for her to make friends as her pheromones caused men to fawn over her and women to be irritable by her presence. She has developed a bit of a complex against her own species due to this factor as she wants to fit in with other human colleagues. She had a lot of trouble learning English and speaks formal yet her sentences are broken.  After graduating from Starfleet Academy Nyx joined the USS Sutherland and later the USS Enterprise. By the time she transferred she held the position as Lieutenant Junior Grade specializing in Planetary Geosciences. Nyx has a hard time controlling her pheromones especially when being the Soong type android, Data. Her feelings developed for the android during a mission in which they visited a deserted M class in which they were gathering information on the surrounding plant life. Not looking where she was going she almost fell off a cliff when Lieutenant Commander Data caught her, and when she locked eyes with him she knew there was something remarkably special about him. As time goes on and discovering her pheromones don't affect him like other organics this makes her feel safe around him, it was also a challenge, if he ended up liking her it was because of her and not her biological advances. In her free time she partakes in gardening.

#star trek ok #star trek #star trek next gen #star trek the next generation #star trek next generation #oc x canon #oc bio

[nitenyx]

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌

. ₊˚ 💭 — nyx notebook - random thoughts

. ₊˚ ✰` 🫂 — nyx's neighbors - mutuals

. ₊˚ ☄︎ `➿ — nyx's nonnies - nonnie asks

. ₊˚ ☄︎ `➰ — nyx nowadays - asks

. ₊˚ ✍︎ `🖇️— nyx network - any of my own writing

. ₊˚ ✄ `🎨— nyx newpaper - art

. ₊�� ♾️ ` 📌 — nyx notes - reblogs/recs

. ₊˚ ☾⋆⁺ — nyx navi - navigational posts

#. ₊˚ ☾⋆⁺ — nyx navi

[nightsprince]

nyx gets so many traits from his parents, but the way in which he’s most similar to rhysand is that he, too, is a giant simp 

#❛ ☾ ｡ * ☆ * ｡ / out of character. #writing w button always reminds me of nyxs inner simp alsdfj

[midnightarcheress]

stress-relief

husband!Simon helping his wife!reader with her stress <3 cw: nsfw. mdni. fem reader, masturbation, squirting, a lil overstim.

you shuffle through the bag to find the keys to your home, only to drop it the minute you raise it to unlock the door. great. it’s one of those days where everything goes wrong, and you want nothing more than to shut out the world and curl up in bed, silently praying for the next one to be better. 

you pick up the keys from the doormat and swing open the door of your flat, hoping that the familiar scent flooding your lungs will help you ground yourself back to a more serene state. tossing your coat and bag aside, your gaze falls on the tall man quietly reading on the sofa, sweetly mouthing a “welcome back, love.” that you dismiss with a grunt, stomping your way to the bedroom.

‘uh-oh.’ Simon thinks, siren already buzzing and red light blinking in his brain, making him pull up to his feet at god-speed and quickly follow you to your shared room, being met with your clothes scattered around and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. he promptly puts away your discarded attire and sits on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you.

you stay in the shower for some good thirty minutes, allowing the water to wash away your stress as you massage your scalp. the weight finally falls from your shoulders and flows down the drain, leaving you alone with the tiredness that’s been brewing in your tense muscles since you stepped out of the house. with a long, weary sigh, you drape the towel around your body and walk out the bathroom, tiny droplets cascading from your hair to your chest, descending on the swell of your breasts and stirring your husband’s cock in his pants.

“gonna tell me wha’ got you so cranky, dove?” he asks with the slightest of teasing, knowing he’s staggering on the thin line of your temper.

“‘m sorry, jus’ a hard day.” you mutter sheepishly, turning to get some well-deserving comfy clothes on the dresser

“c’mere,” you barely have time to react before Simon pulls you by the wrist onto the bed, positioning your body between his legs as he rests on the headboard, “talk to me, lovie.”

his hands brush your arms delicately, fingers running up and down your skin as you start addressing the misfortunes of your day. how a jerk cut you off in traffic, how a client screamed at you on the phone after you explained it wasn’t possible to fulfill his request, how your long awaited sweet treat after lunch fell straight to the floor, how your mother called just to raise hell at you for not visiting enough, how your boss scolded you for a mistake that wasn’t even your fault.

“hm, she said tha’?” he murmurs, massaging the knots on your shoulders and slowly drifting his hands downwards, opening up the lightly damp towel that’s clinging to your frame as you ramble. his rough, calloused skin finds its way to your soft tits, gently kneading the fat while his lips plant small kisses all over your neck.

“i swear that woman’s out to get me, don't know how i haven’t been fired yet.”

“she knows tha’ place would fall apart without ya, doll. you’re the only one with a brain there,” he coos sweetly in your ear, fingers traveling down your stomach and reaching your mound, making your breath hitch in your throat. Simon smirks at your reaction, feeling your head tipping back to rest on his shoulder and your still wet hair soaking his shirt, “let me help you decompress, eh?”

you, too tired to resist the offer, let him spread your legs with ease, compliant to the touch of your loving husband. his middle finger smears the hasty arousal leaking from your cunt through your slit, softly caressing your folds as you melt into his arms. “so wet f’me, love.” he chuckles, slightly rubbing your clit as you hum.

his moves are tame, gradually pooling the warmth in your belly, taking his time to shape your tension until it’s the right moment to set you free. his finger toys with your entrance before sliding in, feeling the familiar walls of your cunt clenching around it, causing you to breathe heavily at just the beginning.

“you like tha’?” he whispers, introducing another finger on your tight hole as you turn to bury your face on his neck, mewling with pleasure and pain while he stretches you, digits hitting all the right spots. by the time he speeds up the thrusting, your moans are erratic, gasped, barely leaving your throat as you grasp his forearm in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, even with your brain reaching the fucked-out point by a simple touch.

his thumb lazily strokes your swollen nub as he continues to be knuckles-deep inside of your velvety walls, curling his fingers just enough to earn a squeal out of you. the coil on your lower stomach tightens, fibers threatening to snap at any second as Simon murmurs sugary praises in your ears whilst nipping the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, the love bite’s stings only intensifying the pleasure coursing through your bloodstream.

“Simon, ’m gonna-” you don’t even have the energy to complete your sentence before your juices flood on his hand, the god’s nectar gushing from your pussy and dripping from his wrist onto the long forgotten towel, as he bullies your clit to overstimulation. you cry out his name like a prayer, begging whatever higher power out in the universe to let you keep that sensation forever.

“looks like someone really needed tha’,” he laughs and you feel the deep rumbling from his chest on your naked back, only driving you closer to the edge as your legs convulse at the overwhelming thrill of your nervous system. your frantic moans echo in the room when Simon raises his free hand to your nipple, rolling the hardened tip between his thumb and index, painting twinkling stars in the ceiling, the scintillation being too much to keep your vision clear. “think ya got another one f’me, princess?” 

he doesn’t wait for your answer; he knows how to treat his precious wife and can cite by heart the prescription to get you to sleep better than any pill would. tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he starts again, just barely giving you time to recover from the near out-of-body experience. 

his new rhythm is harsh, pulling your thighs - fully covered in slick and arousal - over his to keep you spread open, and fiercely pounding two digits inside you. you squirm and press yourself harder against his broad chest, babbling incoherently as he pumps his thick and scarred fingers somehow even deeper than before. 

“Si, ‘s too much, i can’t-” you choke out, streams rolling down your cheeks as he builds another orgasm out of you. half-lidded eyes meet his hazel irises in a lustful gaze, pleading in agony for another release before your body gives out.

it doesn’t take much before a jolt of electricity tingle beneath your skin and makes you cum, getting you blissfully drunk by finger-fucking only while your peak ripple through your core. your hands sternly grip on the sheets under your limp body, the frenzy running its way through every corner of your being, clouding your vision and leaving you in a divine peaceful haze.

your limbs twitch slightly as you come down from your high, Simon holding you tight in his burly arms and pressing kisses on your pretty face. “you did so good, lovie,” he praises, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your belly, “could’ve given ya s’much more but your eyes are so droopy already,” his quiet laugh almost lull you to sleep right there and then, “feeling better?”

you nod, eyes tempting to close as the fatigue washes over you, weariness creeping up your mind after a hell of a day and a celestial end to it. “thank you, Si.” you mumble with nothing but affection in your voice, utterly elated by the sight of your devoted husband cradling you. 

“anything for ya, my wife.”

just a little something i thought of while procrastinating my other works lol

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost imagine #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod smut #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[nostraightheadcanons]

☉ Mod Intro ! ☾

Name: Ishtar or Nyx, but I’ll use Mod Ishtar ✨

Age: 25+

Pronouns: They / Them

Main: @celestialmancer​  About: Yo! Mod Ishtar here, one of the newest mods hoping to be able to help keep things afloat! Got into NSR since September of last year & I’ve been hooked ever since, & I’ve had a good number of thoughts about the characters & the game itself, as well as dabbled in making my own ocs & stuff for it. I’m def looking forward to being able to share my own headcanons too, & hopefully y’all like what I’m able to contribute to the fandom ! I’m also a digital artist under the username @estrelladeishtar on tumblr, & insta (@/celestemancer on twitter) & do writing of my own on the side when I’m able to ✨

#mod intros #Not a hc #Mod Ishtar

[midnightarcheress]

cowgirl

a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much

"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.

the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.

"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."

you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.

"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."

you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"

"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."

Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.

"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.

"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"

after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 

you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.

eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.

what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.

Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.

Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.

the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.

Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 

"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.

the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 

"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.

your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.

after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.

okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...

#cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #tf141 #tf141 x reader #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod #fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #oneshot #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

there's a lot of debate about being team civilian x team soldier for ghost's partner but honestly i love both ideas so much. just think of

simon riley with a civilian partner,

who pushed you away in the beginning because you were 'too pure' to be near a hell-sent monster like him.

who got himself lost in your sweet attempts to slip into the cracks of his heart and eventually surrendered on the battle against his own will.

who keeps a picture of your pretty face well hidden in his tac vest, as a reminder of the new purpose of his military service.

who tries to text you at least once a day when he's away, just to assure you about his well-being and to let you know how much he misses you.

who worries too much about your safety whenever he's deployed, so takes his time to teach you everything about self-defense techniques, ways to handle a knife, and how to properly shoot, as much as he hates the thought of you being even near a gun.

who's so scared of you getting hurt and nearly had a heart attack when he saw blood coming out of your finger after a small distraction whilst cutting the veggies for dinner.

who loves the way you view him as a hero, despite knowing how much of a cold-blooded killer he can be - he never told you anything about his missions, but he never needed to, you know.

who never allow you to see him wearing the mask or the balaclava because ghost is for battlefield, in your house he's purely simon.

and

simon riley with a soldier partner,

who was intrigued about your lack of fear when you first met, because everyone else seemed to shit their pants after a simple glare.

who forbid himself of getting close because the military is about following orders and getting the job done, not fraternization.

who nearly passed out after an instant drop in his blood pressure due to a pouring bullet wound - not because your surprisingly soft hands touched his arm.

who thinks you look the prettiest when you're in the field - sweating, panting, grimy with dirt and blood, barking in his comms to get to safety.

who's terrified of losing you during missions but is also completely mesmerized by your dexterity as you stab the throat of the soldier that seconds before had you pinned to the ground.

who communicates with you using his eyes at all times, since you can't see his expressions under the mask, creating a secret language you're the only one fluent in.

who hesitated on showing you his face at first because underneath it all, simon is a soft man, entirely different of the ghost persona you see during work hours.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #civilian!reader #soldier!reader #ghost cod #simon riley cod #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

drabble // beach day with the one and only soap mactavish.

"johnny, can't you be quiet for a moment?" you ask, putting dots of sunscreen on your boyfriend's back. you've tried to reason with him multiple times about the importance of being protected against solar radiation, but does he care? not in the slightest.

"cannae do it quicker?" he retorts, feet anxiously tapping the sand as you lather the cream on his shoulders.

you roll your eyes, finishing distributing the remaining white spots of the product and moving to his front. "look up for me," your index tilts his chin upwards, narrowed eyes meeting his eager blue ones, "just a second, love," you say, fingers gently spreading the sunblock on his forehead, nose, cheeks and neck.

he squeezes your waist repeatedly, a childish attempt to urge you to end his torture. with a peck on his lips, you put him out of his misery, "all done," and the man leaps out of his seat, wasting no time to dig in the sand.

"gonnae build a castle for mah princess."

this appeared to me in a tiktok dream

#john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod m3 #soap drabble #soap headcanons #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

woke up wanting to write something with my pretty boy kyle and this was born.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. gaz obsessing over the pretty college girl by his side. implied future stalking ig? unedited. part one | part two

someone catches Kyle’s attention on the plane.

his legs are on the verge of cramping and his breath is ragged, running to board his connection flight at the last call. after falling off a helicopter twice in the last operations, he developed an uneasiness of flying, no matter the aircraft, preferring taking the train over being miles up in the air, even if it triples the travel. but this time, he just wanted to get home the fastest way possible for a much-needed night of sleep in his own bed, instead of the barely cushioned military-issued mattress.

he hopped on the plane and made his way through the corridor, gaze fixed on the numbers under the luggage rack, attentively looking for his spot. he stopped by row thirteen, eyes darting between the number and the woman on the window seat. i could’ve sworn i marked that one when i booked? Kyle checks the boarding ticket again – row 13, seat A. it’s the right seat, why is there someone on it? 

an annoyed sigh escapes his lips, gathering the energy to speak up and reclaim his rightfully bought seat. the problem is, he gets ultimately struck when the seat-thief notices him standing and turns to face him. wide eyes meet his brown ones, immediately softening at the sight of your tempting glossy lips and delicate fingers pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. pretty little thing.

“i’m sorry, is this your seat? it was empty on the first flight,” you say, an apologetic tone in your voice as you frantically close the book on your lap and shove it in a bag, “i’ll move back for you–”

“it’s alright, keep it.” he interrupts, throwing his carry-on in the rack and taking the empty middle spot beside you. he smirks at your appreciative nod and watches you settling again on the backrest, buckling the seatbelt at the shining signal hovering your heads and paying extra attention to the flight attendant announcements, even when no one around seems to care. sweet girl, so considerate to everyone.

the plane starts speeding on the runway, and from his peripheral he views your squeezed eyes and nearly white fingers gripping the armrest, breathing quickening during the gravity push of the take off. it takes a moment for you to release your tight grasp and exhale, making his hand twitch with an urge to soothe you, tell you that you’re safe.

he shakes the sensation and leans his head back, focusing on the one thing he can do to pass the time – sleep. but he can’t keep his gaze out of you, glancing to his left whenever you make a movement, no matter how small. the rapid keyboard tapping guides his irises to your laptop screen, catching a few words in a sea of what for him sounds like an alien language. DNA strand? allele? locus mutation?

he sneaks a look through your figure and his eyes land on the familiar blue logo on your hoodie, the same one he always sees on the walk from the market to his flat. uni a couple blocks from me. do you live on campus? or nearby? that neighborhood is awful at night, full of old blokes searching the pubs for a quick fuck with a naive college girl. but you seem smart, not the type to fall for their tricks, right?

the harder he tries to avoid your presence, the more you make yourself known, almost making him feel like it’s on purpose. the way your plump lips wrap on the water bottle, slight drop scaping on the corner and trailing down your neck, your flowery perfume filling his nostrils when you shift on your seat to remove the top layer of your clothing, exposing the low-cut blouse underneath and the soft roundness of your tits. is that for me, sweet girl? need a break from studying so hard? the sudden tightness of his trousers brings him back to his senses, stirring the thought out of his brain. 

keep it cool, Garrick, he repeats over and over in his mind, ignoring the tent forming on his lap and praying to whatever god is out there that you won’t see it, even while standing up and brushing your legs on his knees to get to the corridor due the cramped space. however, he doesn’t miss how the guy by his side shamelessly ogles your cleavage when you step past him, making his blood boil and his fists clench – like he wasn’t doing the same exact thing minutes before.

while you're away, he glances at your screen again, noticing the constant message notifications from the contact ‘Marcus - DO NOT ANSWER’. already looking bad for you, mate. curiosity takes hold of him and he starts reading the texts, silently chuckling at the guy’s pathetic attempts to get your attention. what did he do to earn a cold shoulder, sweetheart? did he hurt you? didn’t he pay enough attention to you? i bet he couldn’t even fuck you the way you deserve. 

he keeps skimming the messages until the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth fades into a frown when he reads ‘you’re gonna regret leaving me’. now, who’s this prick? think you’ll get away with threatening my girl?

his body stiffens when you come back, eyes darting back to the small telly in front of him when your hand brushes on his thigh while sitting once again. he hears your irritated huff when you skim through the messages, shutting the laptop with near violence. i can take care of him for you, love. you won’t have to deal with that by yourself anymore. 

the pilot’s muffled voice coming through the speakers and announcing the landing shortens his daydreams about getting rid of Marcus. it would be a great way to keep himself busy while on leave, making sure to do it fast and secretly, of course, just to protect his sweet little thing. poor guy wouldn’t even know what hit him.

the pressure change on his ear is the telltale sign of the aircraft lowering its altitude, landing gear out to hit the lane and brake the machine. he turns to the side, watching again your knitted eyebrows and how your nails dig into the seat. this time he doesn’t contain himself and his hand gently lingers over yours, the softness of it sending lightning strikes over his body and almost making him cum instantly. 

your glinting eyes find his face with a grateful gaze, lips mouthing a sugary thank you when the plane finally stops. he helps you take your handbag out of the rack with ease, using the situation to flaunt his muscles. i can even pick you up, darling. would love to feel your pretty thighs around my waist. you wouldn’t have to walk a day in your life. 

his eyes follow the sway of your hips through the airport, heart almost bursting when you wave goodbye and flash him a timid smile. you think that’s the last time you’ll see him, he thinks this is just the beginning. a name and university? he’s used to finding people with even less information. see you soon, sweet girl.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz x reader #stalker!gaz #gaz x you #gaz smut #kyle garrick smut #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?

cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. 2 | more casino!141

you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.

at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 

however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 

you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.

"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?

for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 

the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?

thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.

your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 

the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 

"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.

the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.

John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 

you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.

you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?

his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 

"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"

"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 

through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.

the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 

you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."

i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol

#captain john price #john price #price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #casino!141 #captain price smut #price smut #ghost cod #gaz cod #soap cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #fem!reader #price x reader #price x you #casino au #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

thinking of you becoming price's personal lucky charm :)

cw: f!reader. slightly nsfw. very rushed/unedited. idk shit about casinos or card games lol. 1 | more casino!141

when your friend begged you to dress up fancy and go out with them, a casino was not what you had in mind. especially not an underground one, entrance hardly visible in the dimly lit street, where you even needed a password to get in.

despite being far from your definition of a night out, you decide to give one of the games a chance. the roulette seemed the easiest, with seemingly less rules to learn, and to your surprise, you're crushing it. starting with safe outside bets, you make your way to straight bets and stay winning every single one of them. 

at your winning streak, you sense two sets of eyes on you, almost burning your flesh with the heat that crawls to your cheeks. you peek over your shoulder and meet two burly men, one with an icy stare and half-covered face, the other with an adorable boyish smirk and a mohawk. still, both glare at you with an intense puzzled gaze, laced with curiosity and an underlying hunger that makes you shiver. 

suddenly, you feel a rough hand settling on your lower back, nearly making you jump on your seat, “what does the pretty lady think about heading to the vip section?” the man says, pearly smile doing a perfectly good job in luring you in, “all that luck needs to be put to good use.”

you ponder for a second, fearing that once you’re in, all your fortune will slip out your fingers and the beginner’s luck will be gone forever. but his sweet brown eyes are too convincing, and you nod, taking his hand and walking through a mysterious door.

“i– i don’t know how to play poker,” you stutter, brows knitted together at the sight of a round table with piles of chips in the center.

"don't worry, love, you're not here to play," a bearded man says, gruff voice followed by a puff of his cigar. he seems a bit older than the one who brought you inside or the two observers, ocean-blue eyes looking at you tenderly, but the sly smirk on his face doesn't go unnoticed.

he pats his thigh, gesturing for you to sit, "my men say you've been quite lucky out there," a smoke cloud forms in front of him, mingling with the strong scent of his cologne, "let's check."

hesitantly, you comply, plush thighs meeting his firm one. he chuckles at your shyness and pulls you closer to his torso by your waist, positioning your ass right above his growing bulge and you bite back a squeal, "name's John."

the game restarts and you watch the dealer distributing the cards. you glance at his hand and he holds five cards, all hearts, which must be a good sign, given the way he squeezed your hip, certainly hard enough to leave a bruise. not that you minded, considering the damp spot forming between your legs.

"would you look at that, straight flush," he flashes you a grin, cigar dangling from his lips as his laugh echoes amongst the annoyed huffs of other players.

his fingers trace your spine, teasingly edging the waistband of your skirt as you try your best not to squirm, "mighty luck you have, love," he whispers in your ear, beard gently grazing your neck.

he hands you one of his golden chips, "for you, as a thank you," your eyes widen at the number 1000 etched in the back, promptly pushing back the gift. he shakes his head, palm sneaking its way to your inner thigh, "there's way more where that came from."

it's safe to say you might become an avid gambler after tonight.

#captain john price #john price #price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #price smut #casino!141 #ghost cod #gaz cod #soap cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #fem!reader #price x reader #price x you #casino au #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[midnightarcheress]

Simon has a new assignment.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.

after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.

so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.

the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.

he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.

in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.

dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.

he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.

the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?

“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager.  “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system. 

“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.

“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”

he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.

been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #f!reader #fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost imagine #ghost fanfiction #bodyguard!ghost #bodyguard!simon #actress!reader #bodyguard au #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #bodyguard!ghost ☾ #gold rush #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress