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the-raindeer-king · 15 days

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(A/N: prt 4 and the finale of the Mama Riley au! Thanks for all the support and nice comments. It means the world to me! No content warnings. Enjoy!!)

If the ground would swallow him whole, Simon would consider that a blessing. God, he never should've asked his mom about you. Of course she'd clock him. Who knows the man better than his own mom?

He stares blankly at you for far too long. Long enough that you're wondering if there was a chance Mama Riley had it all wrong. You open your mouth, ready to backtrack the statement, when Simon settles a hand on your thigh.

“I… yeah. It's true,” he answers you. He tells you it's fine if you don't feel the same. You were his mom's friend first, and he can see how deeply you care about her and vice versa. He wants his mom to be happy.

“What about what you want?” You ask, curious.

Simon's quiet for a moment, thinking. He wants to marry you, but that might be a bit much to admit right out the gate. So he gathers his nerves, and quietly admits, “I want to kiss you.”

You can't help but smile in response. You lean in a little closer to him, your eyes already half lidded. “I want you to kiss me,” you reply softly.

The kiss is a little awkward. It takes Simon a second to get comfortable in the kiss, but it's good once he does. (You find out later on that it's his second kiss.) His hands come to cradle your face, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. That's when the kiss becomes perfect, the kind that makes your head spin.

You break away at the sound of the door opening. Simon's hands linger in your face for a moment longer, before he drops them back down to his sides. But you're quick to lace your fingers with his, more than eager to start displaying affection. You've been holding back for far too long.

Mama Riley smiles at the both of you, a coffee in hand. “You kids get your feelings worked out?” She teases.

You and Simon share a look, before responding simultaneously.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Yeah, Mum.”

Going to sleep that night is incredibly bittersweet. You two finally made progress, just barely started your relationship, and he's leaving in the morning. Simon has never hated his job more than now. He's waited, since the day y'all met, for this, and he doesn't feel like he even has a chance to enjoy it.

But it makes returning, two months later, all the more worth it. This isn't the first time you've gone with Mama Riley to pick him up, but this time is different. There's no fanfare, no balloons or signs, although you and Mama Riley had joked about it. But there is a new energy in the air, excitement to see your boyfriend.

He's easy to spot amongst the crowd, tall and imposing. But you see the way his shoulders sag with relief, when he spots you two. He greets his mom first, crushing her in a hug. There's some whispered words between the two of them, before Simon turns his attention to you.

He hesitates, before tugging his face mask down. “Can I kiss you?”

You can't help but giggle a little, nodding your head. His hands move to cradle your face, so gentle despite the horrors he's witnessed. And when your lips meet his, Simon decides there's no better way to welcome him home.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #my writing #mama riley au #i had a lot fun writing this and im blown away by all the positive feedback!! you guys are so nice ❤#there will probably be more little drabbles about this later but for now this is it! thanks for following along!#now im going to go play the sims 4 and listen to mother mother. love ya! 😚

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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More Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley and Taskforce Moments With Little Ghost

+ Featuring Los Vaqueros Uncles, Meemaw Laswell (and her wife?), Peepaw Nikolai, Aunty Farah and Uncle Alex

Did I use the same pictures as I did with the last posts? Yes, because these pictures are so Ghostie coded. Also there's like a slight ✨sprinkle✨ of Angst in there, good luck <3

Tag list: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui HAS THE BEST FREAKING COMMENTARY AND IS SO SWEET, SHE MAKES ME SOUND LIKE I'M SOME AUTHOR WHO WROTE A FAMOUS BOOK, ILY CONNORSUI <3 (ngl, I go back to read her commentary over and over again because if how nice they make me feel 😭)

Pairings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

This is my personal AU, I don't think anyone has written on little Ghostie before I did. Not to say that there aren't any works on Dad!Ghost and his kids however Ghostie is a character of mine who holds such a special place in my heart, especially after I started writing more about her and how she acts around everyone.

Possible ships: Farah x Alex (Faralex)?? Alejandro x Rudy (Alerudy)?? Price x Nikolai (Nikprice)??

I know Halloween season is over but y'all can't do anything about this, it's been cooking in my brain for a while now. (Some of these are just regular scenarios though) Ghostie is back y'all!!!

❥ Ghostie who simultaneously made her way into convincing the Taskforce to go with her trick or treating, having her little army uniform that was commissioned for her, a bit visible underneath her pink puffy jacket. Yeah I don't think she's going to stop wearing it unless she's outgrown it, in which case, that would just break her big heart :((

❥ Simon holding little Ghostie's hand while she toddles, she would NOT go anywhere without either her dad's, her mum's or her uncle Gaz's hand. Having her tiny chubby fingers gripping onto two of her dad's fingers as he guides her up big steps. Catching her when she accidentally slips on the slippery steps.

❥ The rest of the Taskforce being behind her like a bunch of guard dogs, ain't nobody is gonna try and scare her because of the big burly men next to her. Photo was provided by my favorite artist last Halloween, @puff0o0:

❥ Ghostie having the sweetest voice ever, she so polite, so much so that she makes the her dad and uncles chuckle at her. (This is how I imagined her voice to sound like)

"Say trick or treat.." Gaz whispers, coaching her from behind as someone from the house opens the door. Two women in costumes, holding a big candy bowl.

"trwick or trweat.." Little Ghostie mumbles, far too shy and almost hiding behind her uncle.

"What a cute costume you have there, here, take these ones" one of the women said, adding the candy to Ghostie's little basket.

"Thank you!" Ghostie exclaims, making the two girls awe at her politeness and eagerness.

❥ Yeah Ghostie definitely pronounces Halloween as "Ha-Hoween".

❥ I can't help but think that they came across that one house with a sign that said "leave your single dad's number if he's attractive" and as a joke, uncle Gaz threw in a piece of paper with peepaw Price's number on it, only to have peepaw Nikolai fish it out of the candy bowl when he thought no one could see him.. but Ghostie did.

Not Halloween related:

❥ Safe to say that when uncle Gaz doesn't like someone, neither does Ghostie, if you all can recall that cutscene from mw3, Gaz did NOT even bother to acknowledge Philip's existence. That being said, Ghostie gives the nastiest side-eyes to him the moment he even opens his mouth. (Yeah she got from her dad)

❥ Ghostie absolutely loves getting head pats and giving them, to her, it's one of the best forms of praise. Anyone gives her head pats gets to witness her absolutely adorable reaction, the way her eyes light up, those little lips curling into a smile causing her chubby cheeks to be prominent and her eyes squinting. Mostly loves doing it to uncle Soap, because the mohawk is fluffy.

❥ Maybe at some point, when Philip decides to behave then he can earn the head pats from Ghostie.

❥ Meals with the Taskforce and Ghostie are a certified hit, she has quite the appetite and she shows it. Simon takes it upon himself to always does what his wife does at home when he's out with Ghostie, bringing her silicone bib and baby utensils. (Even the bulky ass highchair attachment that he keeps in that back of his car/truck)

"More please..." Ghostie says, making grabby hands, in the middle of chewing after observing that her plate is yet again empty.

Price chuckles, looking at Simon who was now careful about the amount of food to add on Ghostie's plate because the toddler is on her third round of food.

❥ Ghostie enjoys clapping her hands and anything as well, especially after eating and being satisfied.

❥ Ghostie is into tea, her dad got her hooked on it.

"Aye, what about you Ghostie? What'd you like?" Soap asks the little one who's currently keeping herself busy with her custom coloring book.

"Tea!" She says, looking up for a bit to Soap before focusing back on her coloring.

"You heard her Johnny, make that two.." Simon says with a pretty firm pat on the back for Soap.

"Fuckin' Brits..."

❥ Auntie Farah and uncle Alex are the babysitters when uncle Gaz, uncle Soap and peepaw Price ain't around. Farah loves that kid to death, if she was being honest, she saw a lot of resemblance between Simon and Ghostie. Of course there are looks were, she's basically a carbon copy of him but also mannerisms;

❥ Ghostie who copies her dad, being adamant about being cleanly and tidy, oftentimes catching people surprised that she tidies up after herself immediately after playing before moving onto another set of toys, coloring books and coloring materials. She notices and mirrors how Simon is consistent in keeping things tidy and out the way.

❥ Whenever Ghostie is at home with her momma (you) and Simon had to run errands, she always wakes up first, seeing how her dad gets up early too.

Ghostie rises up with a soft yawn, rubbing her tiny eyes with her hands, she looked around at the still dimly lit room. She turned her head from side to side looking for her dad.

She was met by him standing and dressing himself up in a black hoodie to go out and buy something. She gives him that cheek to cheek smile before leaning her cheek and closing her eyes, mandatory kiss from dad before he left.

"Alright pumpkin, dada's leaving now. I'll be back later, be good and don't give momma a hard time.." Simon reminded her after giving her cheek a kiss.

"Okay dada- promise.." Ghostie yawns mid sentence.

❥ Ghostie who, ever since she way younger, loved to cup her dad's face and nuzzle her nose into his. A tradition that Simon doesn't know if he's ready to see it go when she grows up. Neither is he ready for her to start correcting the words she's been pronouncing wrong;

❥ Dad!Simon whose heart broke once he realizes that the "I love you"s will slowly start to be less and less when she becomes a teen, he's silently wishing to himself that it won't be reduced to not being said at all. You had to reassure him that it won't happen, not when Ghostie's the sweetest little girl anyone could ask for and Simon is the best dad anyone could as for.

❥ Uncle Alejandro and uncle Rudy being the seasoned uncles who happened to be absolutely adored by Ghostie, not as much as uncle Gaz but let's be real here, no one is on uncle Gaz's level.

❥ Uncle Alejandro and uncle Soap having bets and arguments on who gets to reach their language to Ghostie while she just sits there on uncle Rudy's lap, sipping on her apple juice, quite entertained.

❥ YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT RUDY ISN'T RESPONSIBLE FOR GETTING HER TO SLEEP OR NAP, that man is a walking heater. I can just see him standing there while holding her in his arms while she's trying her hardest not to fall asleep, yawning "Uncle Rudy.." before immediately snoring, snuggling her face into his soft blue hoodie shirt. (@icarustypicalfall is living for this, I just know it)

❥ Alejandro who gets smacked in the back of the head by (his husband) Rudy for being too loud and almost waking Ghostie up. (Alerudy when? This is a joke to y'all Alerudy haters, I like the ship, it's cute. Not sure if it's canon here in my AU, up to you guys to decide)

❥ Laswell and her wife absolutely fucking adore Ghostie, shit she makes them want to have kids, she has almost the same effect on almost everyone. Silently making her uncle Gaz wish that he isn't single.

❥ Let's be real here, peepaw Nikolai was the one who Ghostie jammed with while listening to heavy metal. He also got her this mini leather jacket that matched his, with her nationality country/countries flag/s embroidered patch on the side. I can just imagine her little head bangs that peepaw nik taught her 🥺😭.

❥ Also Ghostie has access to almost everyone's prized stuff, uncle Gaz's and peepaw Price's hats, uncle Soap's medals and even peepaw Nik's jacket which looks like she's swimming in it when she's wearing it.

❥ This pic is so Dad!Simon and Ghostie coded:

❥ Something tells me that Simon would send you this pic and you'd probably have a heart attack, your husband isn't the best driver after all but you trust him since he won't put your daughter in imminent danger.

❥ I think most of the time, Ghostie is in her uncle Gaz's arms and/or lap while he sits on the passenger seat, doesn't really matter who's driving.

My past works on Ghostie, in case you haven't seen the posts before this one on my most favorite mini Ghost:

Little Ghost (Drabble)

TF141 Interacting with Little Ghost Hcs

This was far longer than I expected, I just love Ghostie so much and I just have a lot to say regarding her.

A/n: This is now an official taglist for most of my generic CoD works, none of these people asked to be tagged on my mediocre content and I understand that, if y'all wanna be removed from the taglist then y'all could tell me privately or on the replies if you guys prefer it :))

Sidenote: Is it normal to be so excited over something you bought? I literally bought my first ever concealer today, a mascara that I've been looking for and lip oil. I was so excited that I squealed when I got home and immediately used them. Any makeup tips that you guys have? Sort of a beginner at this stuff.. Also does anyone whose had viral posts ever feel like their popular strike is over because none of their works get as much attention? Looking at all my recent posts and hyperventilating because the numbers are lower by so much.

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peachesofteal · 10 months

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I need the next part of the disco baby trap hospital drabble🥺 Simon and Johnny take Darling and Bee home, maybe their apartment where they can better keep an eye on them, but it’s so tense because Darling is worried they’re going to try to take Bee from her, is still feeling the sting of betrayal, maybe is afraid they’re trying to trap her again

🍄

🩵

18+ / Takes place after this / baby trap au

“Alright, alright.” Johnny murmurs, walking a pattern back and forth in the kitchen, arms slightly bouncing an unhappy Bee to try to settle her. “I know, ‘m not mum. I know.” He can’t help the anxiety that flickers through him, eyes casting quickly to the closed bedroom door, where he can just barely hear the low hum of Simon’s voice, vibrating underneath the echo of your coughing.

He paces in the between the countertops and the fridge, working a pattern, stepping in time to a melody that he’s barely whispering to his daughter, something old, a forgotten tune his mother used to lull him to sleep with. At first, it doesn’t do much to settle Bee, and a wash of emotions threaten to pull frustrated tears to his eyes.

Why should it? He’s but a stranger to her, after all. She does not know either of them, and there’s no one to carry the blame of it except for him, and Simon. She was miserable in the hospital, and neither of them could soothe her, the only thing that succeeds in calming her was to be placed in your bed, by your side, even though you were too weak and too sick to even hold her.

“Let’s get ye some food, eh?” He fidgets with the jar lid, and Bee’s brows furrows with indignation as she glares upwards. This attitude reminds him so much of you, from before, when things were good, and you were happy, safe and secure, confident. Bee fusses at him, but when he goes to put her in her high chair so she can eat, she wails in protest, like something new is upsetting her. “What is it?” He strokes a finger across her cheek and then up to her forehead, checking for warm skin, and breathing a sigh of relief when it feels normal. Her fever broke in hospital three days ago, and your doctor finally agreed to allow the two of you to go home yesterday, even though you were still incredibly weak and exhausted from the pneumonia.

“I’d feel better releasing you both if you could assure me there will be someone to support you at home.” Your doctor sighs, while she thumbs through a tablet at your bedside. Bee sleeps in the bassinet next to your bed, laying between where they sit on the other side of the room, and you. “You’re still running a low fever, and the shortness of breath is going to persist for a while.” Your lower lip trembles, and a tear forms on your waterline, spilling over onto your check when you try to take a deep breath as you quickly wipe it away.

“We can help.” Simon says, keeping his voice soft. The doctor glances at him, before looking back at you. “If you’ll let us.”

“We’d love to be there, for you and Bee.” Johnny adds, hopefully, rubbing a palm against the back of his neck. He’s having a hard time standing still, and Simon knows it, tries to calm him by pressing the outside of his thigh to Johnny’s.

“I’ll let you three talk it out.” The doctor says, before putting the tablet away and patting the bed. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Bee cries aloud, and he holds her against his chest, patting her back gently, swaying side to side. “Okay baby girl, you’re okay.” He kisses her softly on the top of her head, trying to shush her gently. Your voice crests from the bedroom, a sob that fades into a cough, and he tenses, worry thrumming through him. Bee settles a little, her face going blissfully sleepy, and he picks the lullaby back up, eager to rock her into her dreams.

“You need more sleep.” Simon tries to ease you into closing your eyes from where he sits on the bed, halfway down the mattress, far enough away that you’re comfortable, but close enough that he feels like he can get you to focus. You’ve been in a fog, head cloudy and a little off kilter, the low grade fever still running through your system and the cough wrecking havoc on your rest. He doesn’t think he’s seen you sleep for more than a few hours at a time, and your body is weak as a result.

He’s trying to be gentle, to be soft, to let you choose and decide. He’s determined not to overstep, not to make you feel like you’re backed into a corner, or that they’re here for nefarious reasons. He knows, you don’t want them here. He knows you reluctantly agreed because you’re doctor practically demanded it.

He also knows you know, that you’re too sick and run down to take care of Bee right now. The realization is a difficult one to swallow because you’ve been so strong, so resilient all this time.

He’s in awe of it, of you. Of how incredible of a mum you’ve been to Bee, all the sacrifices you’ve made to give her an opportunity to flourish, how you’ve taken care of her, given her the best of everything you could find. It doesn’t escape him, the toll it’s taken on you, the way you’ve neglected yourself for her, the way you’ve put yourself dead last in every aspect to make sure she’s well and happy.

Their darling girl, so brave. So strong for your daughter, but never for yourself.

But at the same time, it makes him hate himself even more. Hates what he’s done, hates how he let himself get out of control and do something so hideous to the person he loves. Hates how because of him, you’ve suffered so greatly. Hates that he let his most selfish urges cloud his judgement, hates how he ruined everything for you, and Johnny. How he ruined your happiness, Johnny’s happiness, his own. He tries not to think about how it felt to see the fear in your eyes, how it was when you were convinced they were there to take Bee away from you, like he was a wretched monster.

Like he was a man as wicked as his father.

“No.” You shake your head, trying to reach towards where Bee is cradled in Johnny’s arms. “I wa-want Bee. Give her to me.” You cry, and push away from Simon, stumbling before careening towards the ground. He catches you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Darling, we’re at the hospital. We need to go inside.”

“No, no. I won’t… I won’t let you take her.” He grits his teeth, jaw tightening as he turns your face towards his.

“Look at me.” You try to twist away but he holds you still. “Shhh, darling. Look at me. It’s okay, everything is okay.” Your breath is ragged, wet and heavy, and he can feel how hot your skin is beneath his touch. “We’re not here to take Bee. We’re going to see a doctor okay? Bee needs a doctor, right? That’s why we’re here.”

Your hand curls into a fist by your side, and he beats back his urge to reach for it, to try to comfort you, even though he knows you’d recoil from him. He wants to soothe you, pull you into his chest, ease your worries and fear. He wants to take control and fix this, to do what he knows to do best, but he can’t.

You’ll never trust him again.

You cough, hunching forward, and he grabs the glass of water from the bedside table, pointing the straw towards your mouth. Your features soften when you sip, and once he’s satisfied you’ve had enough, he pulls away. You sag where you’re propped up against the pillows, practically wilting and he wants to scream in frustration, in fear. He has half a mind to take you back to the hospital, and almost did this morning, but stood down after talking to your doctor on the phone.

“Do you think you can sleep?” He asks, and you blink at him, lips parted, like you’re processing his words but unable to answer.

“I don’t know.” You moan, miserably, and his heart breaks a little bit while tears web in your lashes. You’re so sick, and uncomfortable, and he wants to help you but no matter what he does, nothing comforts you. “Where’s Bee?”

“Johnny was going to give her a bit of lunch. In the kitchen.” His fingers spread wide on the bed, desperately seeking you, like they’re moving on their own accord, pulling him closer and closer.

“I want to-“ your words are choked off by another cough and he grimaces. “I want to see her.” You cry, the tears that were gathering in your eyes spilling freely down your cheeks, and you gasp a sob. “I want Bee.”

“Okay, okay.” He tries to console you, and his hand moves closer, now resting against the outside of your knee. “You were resting, darling. He only took her to the kitchen.” He explains, and you shake your head before slumping farther into the bed, your body now overcome with sobs.

“Please.” You moan, and then cough between your tearful breaths. “Simon.” You cry his name, eyes half closed. Something shifts above the sheets, and then warm fingers are brushing against his.

His heart stops in his chest before he realizes it wasn’t intentional, that you were just moving. Still, he can hope.

He says your name, and you cry harder, head heavy, your lungs fighting for each breath, the combination of your distress and the pneumonia choking off your air. “Hey, hey. It’s-“

“Si-Simon.” You gasp, and then your eyes are widening in a haze of fear. “I ca- can’t… can’t breathe.” You’re panicking, you’re scared, and he can’t fight himself well enough to keep his hands for reaching for you.

To his shock, you don’t fight him. He moves slowly, painstakingly so while your body shakes with sobs, but you don’t tense or flinch away.

“Darling,” he whispers. “Can I hold you?” He wouldn’t dare try to without your say so, not when he’s hurt you so badly, betrayed your trust beyond a level of comprehension. If you don’t want him to, he won’t.

But you’re also free falling into a panic attack. Your body is trembling, and he’s scared, holding his breath while you answer with a nod.

It’s enough, enough for him to move forward and pull you into his arms, wrapping you up without holding you too tight, settling his palm on the back of your neck to gently squeeze you there. He runs his other hand up and down your back and you cry into his chest.

“I want Bee.” Your plea is interrupted by another coughing fit, and he leans you back slightly and tilts your face upwards to try to help you breathe.

“Shhh. It’s alright. She’s just outside, Johnny will bring her in. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

“It’s n-ot.” You wheeze as he coos above your ear.

The bedroom door creaks open, revealing a hesitant Johnny with a very sleepy baby in his arms, who stops dead in his tracks when he sees what’s happening the bed. The image of you, cradled against Simon, letting yourself be held, letting yourself be touched. He blinks in surprise, and Simon gives him a look. Do not make a big deal.

“She’s right here.” Johnny calls to you, crossing the distance and then sitting hesitantly beside Simon. “Bee’s right here. We didn’t go far, just to the kitchen. Promise.” Your shaking hands reach for her, but you don’t try to hold her, you just place your palm on her chest while you rest against Simon. Your breathing evens out slowly, matching his own, and Bee’s, and your cries quiet to occasional sniffles while your lungs rasp. Minutes pass, and yet you still don’t pull away, instead staying tucked into Simon, body relaxing slowly. His thumb rubs circles into your neck, and Johnny watches with wide eyes.

“Everything’s alright.” Simon murmurs into your hair. “It’s okay. Bee’s here.” You nod, eyes starting to slip shut, body and mind wrung out with exhaustion.

As you drift, Bee does too, until you’re both asleep, with Simon and Johnny holding their breath collectively, eyes flicking from you, to Bee, to one another every other second, like they can’t believe what they’re seeing.

#🍄 anon #peaches asks #peaches writes #soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap

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aoioozora · 1 month

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Simon.

Part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: I still can't believe that I've written 8 whole chapters for a oneshot that I never planned on making into a series! But I'm glad it's coming along well and that you're enjoying it :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @iimichie

@mxtokko

“Morning, Simon!”

____ and Lindsey arrived at Simon's door at seven in the morning as planned. His crush was the one who excitedly greeted him, while her friend looked disgruntled and ticked at having to be up so early.

“Morning,” he greeted them civilly as his hand instinctively ran through his hair, trying not to appear even the slightest disheveled or flustered at the sight of ____’s smiles, and moved away from the door to let the two in.

“Have a seat. I'll bring you some tea,” he said, promptly moving towards the kitchen.

The ladies, particularly the author, took in the surroundings of his little flat as they entered and sat down. The entire place as a whole was simple. The walls of the living room were empty and unpainted except for a singular, ancient grandfather clock that hung alone near his curtained balcony, filling the quiet room with its rhythmic ticking. She saw that he was concerned more with pragmatics than aesthetics; if it didn't serve a purpose, then it wasn't needed.

She saw that he favored dark colors of blue and black, and neutrals, but found that bright colors were speckled throughout the room in his red floor lamp, the gold painted knobs of his brown television stand, and the red and white chevron patterned cushions on his grey couch. The simple state of his room made her wonder if his bedroom was more personalised.

A hint of green caught her attention and she turned to the balcony. A few potted plants of mint, tomatoes, and coriander, all of which were healthy and green, swayed gently in the morning breeze. She smiled at this. “He’s a gardener,” she thought to herself, not quite expecting it.

The smell of lemon and mint wafted through the air, bringing her thoughts back. Simon brought out a tray of three mismatched teacups and a glass teapot filled with what smelled and looked like lemon tea.

“Have some tea,” he set down the tray on the coffee table and poured out the tea for them.

She, wanting to use Simon as a model for her character, Frederick, watched keenly as he poured with a thoughtful, concentrated look on his face. She wondered why he used a glass teapot over porcelain or any other material, but that was probably not important. However, she was not going to let even the smallest things about him and his choices escape her scrutiny.

“When will Johnny come?” asked Lindsey as soon as she had her sip of tea.

Simon glanced at the grandfather clock. “At six forty-five, he said he'd be here in ten minutes. He's picking up our other friend, Kyle too. Maybe there's some hold-up,” he answered. He felt a little strange; it was his first time properly speaking to Lindsey, and she seemed to look judgingly at him, as if to find a fault.

____ was silent, as she was more concentrated on the taste and temperature of her tea. It was lightly sweetened and refreshing thanks to the lemon and mint. A mental note was already taken that Frederick too would be good at brewing tea.

Simon's ringtone tore the silence and he immediately slid the phone out of his jeans. Thinking it was Johnny, he looked expectantly, but it was his mum. Looking back at the ladies, he excused himself and went out to the balcony to talk.

“What do you think of him?” ____ asked Lindsey, who took slow sips of her tea as the two watched the man pace around the balcony through the partially drawn translucent curtains.

“He makes good tea,” she answered, “I think I'll approve of him a bit.” To Lindsey, a man who could brew a good tea was worth marrying, because, according to her, it meant that he cared about the little things, like making tea taste good. As ____ smiled, she paused for a moment before quipping, “He seems nice so far, but I don't trust him just yet.”

____ shook her head, chuckling. Lindsey was always so skeptical of everyone and everything, both a vice and a virtue.

Simon soon emerged from the balcony into the living room, brows furrowed with concern. He looked straight at ____ and said, “I need to have a word with you, darling,” and then promptly stepped into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, expecting her to follow.

She instantly set down her teacup and followed Simon into the kitchen. “What's the matter?” she asked as soon as she entered, finding him leaning his back on the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

He turned to her, almost opening his mouth to speak but cautiously glanced at the open door; he looked back at her, beckoning her to come closer. When she did, he said, “I don't know how you'll react to this but I need you to hear me out, alright, darling?”

Her curiosity heightened and she nodded.

“Y'see, my mum just called and they're going to have a family reunion soon since my old man's come back home for a holiday from his military service,” he paused, sucking in a sharp breath, unsure about how she would take his next words, but continued anyway, “And my mum asked me if I found a girlfriend yet because she's worried I'm going to die single…” he paused again, “and I may have accidentally told her that you're my girlfriend.”

“You what?” she stared incredulously at Simon, although she wasn't quite opposed to what he did.

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head, embarrassed with himself, “I'm really sorry.”

“Wait, does your mum know about me?”

“Yeah, I told her a few weeks ago that I recently made friends with this lass,” he paused to sigh again, “And when she asked if I finally found a girlfriend, I accidentally said yes, and when she asked if it was you…” he paused again and shrugged.

The lady paused. Now that he said it, it couldn't be helped and she had to play along. Not that it bothered her. She chuckled. “Well, it's alright. You take the trouble of pretending to be my boyfriend, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to pretend to be your girlfriend for a bit.”

Simon looked back at her, visibly relieved.

“Now, what do you need me to do?” she asked.

“That's the hard part. We'll have to make up a story of how we met and how we hit it off. And I'll have to bring you home and introduce you to my family. And not just that, you know who else will be there.” He pursed his lips tight.

She immediately knew. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans and nodded. “Right, yes.”

He could see the apprehension on her face and in her body as she crossed her arms. Feeling terrible that he dragged her into this, he said, “Darling, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. If going there and meeting him again will make you uncomfortable, then I'm not forcing you to come with me.”

She drew in a shaky breath and pondered for a moment. Simon watched her, gulping harshly.

“No,” she finally said, resolute, “I shouldn't be so scared all the time. If I'm going to be there as your girlfriend, I shouldn't be afraid of some ex of mine.”

Simon blinked in surprise at this response. He appreciated her bravery, and felt his admiration for her increase. However, he didn't show it, and kept his facial expressions neutral with a little smile. “I guess, yeah,” he nodded. He paused for a moment, wanting to say something else, but she beat him to it.

“If anything happens, you’ll stick up for me, won’t you?” she asked smilingly, “Since you’re my “boyfriend”.”

He felt his heart leap. That was the exact thing he wanted to assure her of, and it flattered him greatly to know that they had been thinking of the same thing. Even though he knew this was going to be a pretense, it rubbed his male instincts and ego right to be depended on for protection.

He answered with a wide smile, “Of course, my love.”

“Why d’ye drive a manual?” asked Johnny as soon as he took the shotgun seat, watching ____ take her place in the driver's seat.

“Tut tut,” she shook her head, bringing out a mini sombrero from her pocket which she placed on the gear stick, “It's Emmanuel.”

The three passengers in the back, from left to right– Simon, Lindsey, and Gaz, watched as Johnny burst out laughing, also making ____ laugh as she got the car started.

“Ghosty, she's a woman of culture!” Johnny exclaimed, looking back at his best friend.

Simon made no answer as he was upset that he couldn't sit next to ____. Lindsey felt similarly, but for Johnny. Regardless of that, the drive began with gusto, with Johnny and Gaz filling the time with their singing and jokes, while the other three listened.

____ drove for the first hour, and Johnny took over for the second and the two switched seats, exchanging jokes and quips with ease, making both Simon and Lindsey at the back miserable and jealous. Simon drove for fifteen minutes in the third hour until he nearly hit a tree, but swerved back to the road right on time to avoid damaging both the car and his crush's esteem. Gaz took over for the remaining forty-five minutes, and Simon was banished to the back seat.

Thankfully for him, ____ sat next to him to console him, “Don't worry. After all, you did say that if you tried really hard, you wouldn't hit a tree. You did great for fifteen minutes at least!”

Simon chuckled out of embarrassment. It didn't make him feel any better, but he appreciated her effort.

The camping spot was soon in sight. It was around ten in the morning when Gaz parked the car in the shed of a little cabin. The ladies learnt that the spot belonged to one of Gaz's relatives, who was happy to lend it out to anyone who needed it. And from how the three men scampered around the place relaxedly, it was evident that they were regular visitors.

The fenced piece of land was right next to a little lake which afforded a view of the distant green hills speckled with heathers and daisies. A lonely little dock hung over the surface of the water, which, as Simon informed the ladies, “made a nice fishing spot”.

The group first decided to begin their hike as planned before unloading the car. England's weather was notorious for being fickle and since the skies were currently clear of all rain clouds, the hike was chosen as the first activity.

The trail was an easy one, chosen for the benefit of the ladies who were partially accustomed to walking on rocky, uneven terrain. The end of it promised a little waterfall, which Johnny was excited about showing them, as was evident in his constant singing of sea shanties while they hiked. Gaz happily joined him, while the ladies and Simon chose to be their audience like earlier.

“Johnny sure loves to sing,” observed ____, who trudged between Lindsey and Simon.

“He's a born singer,” replied Simon with a sigh, sounding both proud of and annoyed with his friend, “And he was a theater kid too. Acted in tons of musicals and plays, mostly musicals. Put him together with Gaz and they'll be singing and dancing all day.”

She chuckled. “How long have you guys known each other?”

“Johnny's my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were ten years old. As for Gaz, both of us met him in university and we quickly became friends,” he explained, kicking a rock out of the way.

The two ladies looked at each other. “That's a long time,” remarked Lindsey, “You all must be really close then.”

“Too close,” Simon said dryly, but there was a hint of affection in his voice. He then turned to the ladies to ask, “And what about you two? How long have you been friends?”

“Since high school,” ____ answered, smilingly linking her arm with Lindsey's, “She's basically my sister now.”

Simon smiled. He could tell, for the moment he saw them together, they stuck to each other like glue and didn't leave each other's side for more than a few moments.

Johnny looked back at the calm trio behind him and Gaz. “Jolene!” He called Lindsey by her nickname. When he had her attention, he beckoned her to join him in singing.

“I don't know any of the songs you're singing!” she protested.

“Dinnae ye worry, wee lassie!” he retraced his steps, put an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her ahead with him, making her squeal and stumble. “Gaz and I will teach you!” he promised, and kept his arm around her as they hiked up the hillock.

While the two men busied themselves in teaching Lindsey to sing ‘Bully in the Alley’, ____ and Simon were left to themselves. The lady smiled at Lindsey's attempts to sing, though she was no singer.

“Lindsey hates singing,” she whispered to Simon, “It's crazy how she's doing it for Johnny.” A girlish giggle escaped her lips at the thought of a romance blooming between the two. Her authorly brain couldn't help but conjecture all the sweet moments they would have, worthy of a novel of its own.

“And I'll tell you what, Johnny's never been this fixated on one woman for this long either. He's normally a huge flirt, a ladies’ man, if you will. I'm just as surprised as you are,” answered Simon.

The mention of Johnny being a flirt worried her. She knew Lindsey to almost easily give her affections to anyone who would look her way, starved for love as she was. But she decided to stay out of the way and watch the two for now. If Johnny ever did anything that would hurt Lindsey, she would not hesitate to confront him.

The hike was now proving to get a little tiring, and ____ let out a sigh as she paused to catch her breath and drink some water. Simon stopped too, looking down at her from the slightly steep ascent.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“A little, yeah.”

He bent his knee and lowered himself slightly, holding out his hand. “Come on,” he encouraged, “Just a little more and we'll be at the waterfall.”

She took his outstretched hand, and no sooner they made contact, a jolt of electricity ran down both their spines. Simon gulped harshly at this reaction, and she felt an additional tingle in her stomach. His larger, more rugged hand held her softer and smaller hand in his, and he pulled her up the ascent with ease. She thanked him as soon as they were next to each other, Simon, eager to be of further assistance, held out his arm to her.

“You can hold my arm if you want to,” he offered, trying to sound as casual as he could, though his thoughts begged her to give him the honour of accepting him.

Her hand practically flew to his arm in an instant, wrapping just below his bicep. Simon never felt more depended upon than now as the two began walking together. And she was completely flattered by his kind offer, trying to suppress her smiles and blushes. The two were, without doubt, over the moon.

The lady was sure to make mental notes about everything Simon did. Frederick would be tall and brooding, but a kind-hearted and observant gentleman with a soft spot for Adelheid.

“This reminds me of the Jane Austen novels where the men would offer their arms to the ladies when they got tired as they walked,” she commented with a bright smile and a certain twinkle in her eye as she moved closer to him, allowing her hand to curl tighter against his arm.

He noted the expression on her face and the movement and instinctively flexed his bicep so that she could feel it. He smiled in response to her comment and said with a chuckle, his cheeks overspread with a light pink, “So it was a custom back then? Interesting.” He hadn't read a lot of Regency era novels to know of past English social customs, but he seemed intrigued by this one aspect that she mentioned. Wanting to know if she really approved of it, asked, “Do you like it?”

She loved it, but for the sake of being mild, said, “I think it's nice, especially now when I don't see men doing this sort of thing.”

“So you like gentlemen then?”

She giggled. “A lot.”

Simon took note of this immediately. If she liked a gentleman, a gentleman he would be. If men of his day didn't do the things he did, like offering their arm, or pulling out the chair for her at a table, he most certainly would do it, for he didn't want to be like other men. He wanted to be special and singled out by her.

They began descending down a slightly slippery, gravelly path that led to the waterfall, and Simon took hold of her upper arm this time as he led her down so that she wouldn’t fall in case she slipped over the loose gravel. He was reminded yet again of how much smaller she was compared to him, and it only heightened his desire to keep her safe.

The gurgle and rush of water from the distant waterfall was soon heard, and a few meters of walking on level ground finally brought them to the waterbody familiar to the men. Johnny cheered like he never saw a waterfall before, loud enough for his voice to echo in the wilderness, and for Lindsey to cover her ears and curse under her breath.

“We're here!”

End of Part 8.

Part 9

Like always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 7 days

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Happy Wednesday friends! I’ve got 15 teaching days left and boy am I ready for summer vacation! 😎

I’m currently writing the fourth chapter of my time travel AU, Back and Back and Back. @cutestkilla and @emeryhall are graciously beta reading for me and thanks to their help, the first two chapters are shape up nicely. 🙏🏻

Here’s a little something from chapter 2 (no, chapter 1 is not posted yet, but I’ve already shared a good amount from it.) An older Simon is visiting ten year old Baz while he’s taking a breather from Malcolm and Daphne’s wedding:

I think about some of the comments I heard the guests making tonight. Discussions about babies and starting a family. Which feels like such an odd thing to say, because Father’s already got a family. Or at least part of one. That isn’t really starting is it?

I tell him a little of what I overheard tonight and he listens intently again without interrupting. He doesn’t give me sad pity eyes like so many other grown ups when they talk to me about things like dead mums. I like that about him. He treats me more normally than just about anyone else.

“Well,” he starts, “I don’t have any siblings myself, so I can’t really speak from experience. But I always thought it would be cool to have a little brother or sister.”

“Really?” I tilt my head, looking up at him.

“Mmm. I think it’d be nice to have someone to look after. Someone you’d always have in your corner. And they’d have you.”

Baby Baz owns my heart. As does an older Simon being nice to him ♥️

Tags/thanks/hello to @cutestkilla @emeryhall @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @raenestee @aristocratic-otter @valeffelees @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @letraspal @nightimedreamersworld @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @rimeswithpurple @iamamythologicalcreature @prettygoododds @monbons @blackberrysummerblog @that-disabled-princess @best--dress @brendughh @drowninginships @lookinforavampire @mooncello @hushed-chorus

#back and back and back #my writing #carry on fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz

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the-ace-with-spades · 3 months

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This, I hope, will eventually be posted on ao3 as a proper fic – current draft title is exhumation — but just in case it will not, gonna post it here and let it stew

Canon Divergence AU with secret Identity and later identity reveal drama

(also this involves the backstory from the Ghost comic because I vaguely remember reading it when I was in high school…)

Soap and Ghost meet before they become Soap and Ghost. Johnny is 20, Ghost is 25, and they’re stationed around the same place but different squads — somewhere not far away from Manchester — and they don’t know they’re both from SAS. They meet when Tommy tries to be supportive of Simon’s newly announced queerness and takes him out to a gay bar on Canal Street. Tommy is the one to chat up Johnny (while Simon, obviously not a fan of crowds or loud places, hides away in the bathroom) with ‘see, my brother this and that’ and ‘if you give my brother a chance, he will this and that’. Believe it or not, once Simon strolls back in with all his social awkwardness, Johnny is actually charmed. Things roll around for a couple of months before they admit to each other they’re in the armed forces.

By the time they find out Simon is of higher rank, they’re already gone for each other. They decide to keep going anyway — it’s legal, as of 2001, and they’re not planning on getting a civil partnership for a while, anyway, so in the end, they keep going. Simon changes his next of kin on file to Johnny, they ‘share’ a flat off base, and Johnny’s met Simon’s mum and brother. He more or less knows the lore of the Riley family, mostly how much of a piece of shite his father was and Tommy’s recently fought addiction, and somehow, Simon feels alive for the first time in his life.

It’s all going so perfect, they’ve been together for almost two years, which isn’t long for most, but feels like forever when you’re in the military. Johnny gives him a ring, a sterling silver one with thistle ornaments and a small garnet centre stone. It’s not a proposal, they can’t get married legally, and they won’t have anything but Simon’s will binding them legally for as long as they’re both in the forces — Simon doesn’t know it, but there’s a matching simple band waiting to slide in with the ring he’s got on his tags, and one day, Johnny plans for him to have a full set.

Simon and his team get send out, Simon tells him it’s going to be a long one, somewhere in one of the Americas — Central or South, if he had to guess by all the self-learning Spanish books that cluttered Simon’s bedside table — and Johnny, well, he’s got a bad feeling but when does he not, with their jobs?

Simon’s team gets back, partially. There’s talk about betrayal from his captain, and he’s painfully absent, Simon’s friends look half-dead and act half-dead and no one is telling Johnny anything. He spends his afternoons with Simon’s mum, taking care of her as best as he can while Simon is gone, even though it was never the plan, and dodges Tommy’s aggressive questions, because he knows goddamn nothing.

Johnny doesn’t give up. He waits.

Simon is gone six months — MIA, officially, but KIA in the words of anyone from the brass — when he emerges back from South America, giving Johnny a new heart and a new life. He comes back different, but Johnny doesn’t care, it’s Simon, it’s still him, and maybe there’s something dead in his eyes, and maybe he spaces out more often than not, and maybe he feels cold in Johnny’s arms, and maybe he doesn’t sleep in the same bed, but it’s still Simon, he just needs to heal and figure out how to keep on living.

And Simon tries — he’s got episodes every day, than every other day, than every week, every other week. He goes to therapy, he spends his days cooking with his mum, spends his days cleaning the whole of their flat again and again, spends his days wandering around Manchester, buying Johnny’s favourite drinks, favourite books, favourite breakfast babs.

He tells Johnny bits and pieces, about what happened, enough that Johnny can put it together in a horrifying if blurred picture, and things start to improve, slowly.

He comes back to their bed. He wakes up before Johnny, makes him breakfast, kisses him on the forehead and struggles with the crosswords from the newspapers he picked on his morning run. He goes out with his former teammates, very short trips but trips nonetheless. He stops being afraid to be alone with his nephew, stops being afraid he'll hurt him. He never quite gets used to the scars, covering them more often than not, not wanting the looks.

Second week of December, ten months after he was brought back to the UK from North America, his psychiatrist signs him off for a phased return to duty. No deployments, only base and training site duties, regular sessions with both the psychiatrist and the psychology for the first four months.

Johnny hasn’t seen his family since before Simon gone MIA — finally feeling okay-ish, Simon tells him to go Scotland for Christmas. He’s got his mum, his brother, his sister-in-law and his nephew, and he’s, weirdly, feeling almost optimistic about life.

Obviously, he can’t be happy for long and shit hits the fan.

On Christmas Day, Johnny gets a call from Greater Manchster Police. He and his sister drive down the country and in the early morning of the Boxing Day, Johnny is showed the tags with the familiar silver ring on it, sooted at the edges and slightly misshapen, melted.

Fifteen minutes after he identifies Simon’s body, they tell him he killed his whole family, probably in a PTSD induced episode, then set their house on fire and killed himself right after, when the trauma-haze went down. They tell him he was lucky not to be there when it happened.

Johnny doesn’t believe it. Simon’s mind’s been bad, but it’d always turn on Simon, not on others, he had too much control to let any episode take him over so much. So he doesn’t care what the police or the public says — he arranges the funeral and Simon is buried with the rest of his family.

Meanwhile, Simon goes on a rampage in Mexico. He kills everyone and anyone he even suspects to be involved with Roba’s people. He leaves a trail of dead people behind him for weeks until finally, the US military catches up — General Shepherd catches up and identifies him. The British Army doesn't know what to do with him — officially, he's dead already, the General Register Office has already issued his death certificate to his NOK, the armed forces had condemned his family's tragedy. His existence is…inconvenient. He is suspected to be either compromised or too unstable to be of use to the Army, even if SAS sees how valuable someone who could single-handedly destroy a whole cartel family and fake his own death could be.

Enter John Price, who had met Simon during SAS selection and had a bit too soft of a heart. There's a mural agreement — Price will take personal responsibility to keep him on a leash, at least until he proves he is not a liability, and he will remain dead on paper but active in the Army. No one is to know he is alive — not even Johnny, or maybe especially Johnny, who will be the last person anyone will see as a revenge method. Simon Riley's name is redacted from all available documents.

And thus, Ghost, a nameless lieutenant and a walking cautionary tale, is born.

The only thing Ghost has not predicted is that eventually, almost six years after he put Simon into the grave, Johnny will join the 141.

And somehow, Ghost is just Johnny's type, again.

#yes this going to be a then/now pov mix #soap angst will be like 70% of it #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #fic ideas #charlie writes #haven't slept yet so going now #goodbye be back in 2h #op

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nightimedreamersworld · 4 months

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Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tags @larkral ❤️ can't wait for your Simon's two mum's AU!

Today I offer you: some more from my Naked!Baz fic. I had a few people speculating about the spell's effect, so here's a snippet that gives some of it away:

“Fine,” I grumble. I pull my shirt off, then throw it at him. Baz takes one look at it, then at me. I start turning around as he lifts it over his head, but not a second passes before he’s cursing. My head snaps toward him again. He’s looking down at his still very naked, very furred chest. “Nothing?” I croak. Baz shakes his head, slowly. Well, shit. Fuck. This is the truth I’ve always been after, innit? All these years, chasing Baz around campus, into the woods and down to the Catacombs, I’ve been looking for proof of this. He’s a vampire. He’s admitted so, fucking finally.

So why hasn’t it worked?

(I know, realistically, that Baz probably doesn't have that much hair on his chest. But also Simon is thinking relatively here, and he has no other reference, so.....)

Anyway, tags under the cut:

@erotic-grope-fest @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @iamamythologicalcreature @hushed-chorus @captain-aralias @valeffelees @facewithoutheart @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @best--dress @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii @emeryhall @letraspal @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @run-for-chamo-miles @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @youarenevertooold @prettygoododds @shrekgogurt @shemakesmeforget @mooncello @forabeatofadrum @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @whogaveyoupermission @j-nipper-95 and anyone else who'd like to join! Have a good Sunday ❤️

#simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #simon snow series

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panther-os · 3 months

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Bastard Children Update: A Surprise Non-Bastard!

Friendly reminder that this au is entirely me doing whatever I want that I think is plausible, because this one reads a little cracky but I promise it works.

Also for clarification, a bastard or illegitimate child in this au is defined as "a child with anyone you are not in a committed relationship with" rather than "a child born out of wedlock". And also Ghost's dad is one of those bastards (as in personality) who's like "it's not cheating if there's only one committed relationship and all the rest is casual" so he did only have one girlfriend or wife at a time.

Anyways, I had this thought in the shower and the process was something like

Remember that one fic where "Price" isn't Price's original surname, he changed it to the kindly neighbor's after escaping his abusive family?

That was some good shit

Okay but what was his original surname?

John Reilly sounds nice

Wait, Riley belongs to another character already

WAIT

Price = bastard big brother????

And then this is what I cobbled together:

Laswell set up an alert for whenever Simon's DNA comes up in the results of a test, that way she can see if it's something innocent or someone getting Too Close to the identity of The Ghost (TM)

They have to run Price's DNA for insert reason here (maybe something something testing for something else and the lab has some deal with law enforcement in the fine print that's supposed to help catch criminals or something) and it comes back with Ghost (and the others) as a 25% match, which is typically grandparents, grandchildren, auncles, niblings, and half-siblings

Price is only three years older than Ghost and he's operating on the assumption it's a mistake, but he's doing his due-diligence and calls his sister to see if there's any family secrets

Turns out his mum is originally from Manchester, she was married and had his older sister there, then she got divorced, got "an evil ex-boyfriend", fled Manchester in the middle of the night with his sister to her family in Liverpool, met and had a one night stand with his dad before being ready to date again a year or two later (he wasn't ready for serious at the time either and became her close friend before anything else)

Price himself was born a questionable amount of time after the fleeing to Liverpool and one night stand and came out looking almost exactly like his mum, so they just crossed their fingers and prayed his dad was also his bio dad, his mum told his dad, and his older sister is capable of doing math

On a very educated hunch, Price sends his sister a picture of Ghost's dad, and sure enough he's the evil ex-boyfriend

Price never tells Simon this because at the time family was still an armed landmine of trauma for him, so instead he just committed to doing what he was already doing and big brothering the hell out of him

Then Simon's doing better and Cam and the groupchat come along and Price is trying to figure out whether or not to fess up to hiding it from him or if it's too late

Enter Cam being like "we should all do 23 & Me! it's not a perfect science but maybe we can find out if Simon and I have even more half siblings and it would be a fun group bonding thing to find out more about our families"

And, well, Price can't exactly be the only one refusing, that would be suspicious, now the only question is if he tells Simon before the tests or acts surprised or what - and also if it's bad that he kind of wants Gaz or Soap's test results to come with major family drama that eclipses his own

#/incoherent noises/#call of duty #cod mwii #cod john price #simon ghost riley #the bastard children of bones riley

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larkral · 11 months

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Heyo!!! You know that feeling when you're blocked on writing something but you don't realize that's what's happening because you had another brilliant idea and LIFE is happening all around you? Turns out I was actually a bit blocked on the Simon's Mums AU, which is partially why I've been going so hard on Holsom Timeloop. Learned this when I went to write some Simon's Mums yesterday so that I'd have something to show y'all.

Being blocked, for me, looks like this: I have an idea of what happens next and I've tried to write it a half dozen times and nothing is working. The resolution usually comes when the thing that happens next is totally different from what I anticipated. In this case, I was thinking the mums needed to meet Mitali. I have Google mapsed the route between Harrow (where the mums and Simon live) and Hounslow SO MANY TIMES, you cannot even comprehend it, given I have written and deleted one sentence for this section over a dozen times.

Anyway, turns out the mums are going to meet Malcolm. 🤷 Whatever, it's working for me. This is like eleven sentences because I just am, I?

Malcolm Grimm may as well be an eponym. He is sour-faced and stoic as I cross the room to meet him and he doesn't stand to greet me. He asked to meet me at his London club, and it's the kind of regressive place that calls women "Mrs. Husband's Name" and will only forgive me my slacks by virtue of the fact that I have my court collar laid overtop of my oxford.

I don't offer my hand this time. Instead I sit down across from him and reach for my water. I take a sip.

"Ms. Stephenson."

"Mr. Grimm."

He makes a face like he's terribly constipated, like he's smelling something he's disgusted by but has to pretend to enjoy. "I was moved," he says, finally. "By what you said."

Tags and also Holsom time loop under the cut.

Holsom time loop, now coming in at nearly 28k words, i.e. more than twice as long as Simon's Mums AU. Again I cannot overstate how much I LOVE writing this. It is very fun.

Have some sleepy kissing:

Holster descends, lips seeking out Justin's. He doesn't support himself over Justin, just lets the weight of his body press into him, and fuck, it's good—being smaller, being a little bit out of control.

He groans into Holster's mouth and leans up, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of the slide of Adam's tongue against his own.

But Holster is pulling away. Justin feels wanton under his gaze, syrupy and stuck, like he's let too much of the lovey-dovey goop inside of him leak out where his hands are still holding on to Holster's waist.

"You have hella sexy morning eyes, Rans."

Thanks for the tag @forabeatofadrum, and everyone else who tagged me the past few weeks. And I'm tagging @stitchyqueer @thewholelemon @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb @ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias @petedavidsonscock @takitalks @artsyunderstudy @yeonjunenby @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars @nausikaaa @nightimedreamersworld @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @shrekgogurt @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl @blackberrysummerblog @valeffelees @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @j-nipper-95 @whogaveyoupermission @wellbelesbian @rimeswithpurple

#carry on #simon snow #Simon's two mums AU #malcolm grimm #eponymous #holsom #holsom timeloop #timeloop #omgcp #six sentence sunday

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newtonsheffield · 11 months

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CONGRATULATIONS MOLLY!!!!! im so happy for U!!! pleasee please share anything you want with us when you go!!! can we celebrate with some kanthony??? maybe some kate going to see her on concert like you?? hahah Simone is a taylor swift too so i can picture that happening hahaha. Or maybe hurricane Anthony knows taylor??? im a swiftie but i didnt get tickets here in argentina!!!

I’m so excited, you guys have no idea. I need to get started on my friendship bracelets. So if you’re going to be at Sydney night 1, come find me on the floor and trade a friendship bracelet with me!!

No but imagine an AU where Kate got Edwina Taylor Swift tickets for her birthday. This is completely for Edwina, thank you, Mum, it’s only a little but for Kate as well, doesn’t she deserve a treat?!

And she’s sat next to a man who looks a little harried, ladened with merchandise bags, followed by four girls, two teenage boys and another man in a Lover crop top (Benedict).

“Hiya.” Anthony nods as he sits in the seat beside Kate, adjusting the front of his shirt that says Ticketmaster sibling

Kate bit her lip, “Hi.”

“Are you a screamer?”

Kate blinked at him, a little surprised, “I’m sorry?”

“Are you going to scream when she pops out of the stage?”

“Oh right,” Kate cleared her throat, “I mean… yeah, probably.”

“Perfect.” Anthony clicked his tongue, “No good deed I suppose.”

“And I suppose you don’t know a single word to any of these songs?” Kate raised her eyebrow as the man scoffed.

“I’m not a monster, she’s clearly a genius.”

And felt her smile grow a little as he put on his sunglasses, beaded with a hot glue gun on one side Eras “I’m Kate.”

“Anthony.”

And Kate has no idea the uproar that’s about to occur hours later when everyone in the rows in front and behind them start screaming and she looks around to see what’s happening, only to find Anthony accidentally kneeling next to her as the words ring over the speakers

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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bridgertonbabe · 3 months

Text

Benophie Drabble - Bridgerton Brothers AU

Surveying the room around him, Benedict smiled to himself as he watched his nieces and nephews keeping Simon, Daphne, Anthony, and Kate on their toes; Colin cuddling into Penelope all the while she laughed and chatted with Eloise; his parents lost in their own little world as they rocked back and forth dancing to the music. It was a far less raucous after-party than the ones they used to have during their early years of touring but now they were all that much older and more settled (and honestly far more easy to wear out), celebrating another sold-out concert with just their loved ones was much more preferable.

There was just one notable absence for Benedict to feel particularly dispirited; his wife.

For the last twelve weeks Sophie had been on her own solo tour across the UK playing sold-out theatre shows, enchanting audiences with her mesmerising violin concertos and pop covers. Much to Benedict's dismay he had yet to be able to attend any of her shows as her tour coincided with the Bridgerton Brothers international one, otherwise he'd be attending every last one of her concerts as he had done with all of her previous tours. He had desperately tried to find any opportunity to be able to jet back to see her, but unfortunately both of their schedules were so jam-packed that there'd barely be enough time to even kiss her before he would have to fly back out for his next concert. Sophie had tried in vain as well to find any openings in her diary in order to see him but they both reluctantly accepted that they had no other options but to endure the separation apart.

At the very least it definitely made the heart grow fonder as with every new day he missed her more and more. Sure they still called and texted and video-chatted constantly but Benedict was keening to be able to see her in the flesh once more, to hold her in his arms and to kiss her and just be in her physical presence. For now however he'd have to endure just another twelve hours before they flew from Dublin to London to be reunited with Sophie once more.

Except, as Benedict looked around at all the loved-up couples; his mum and dad, Simon and Daphne, Kate and Anthony, and Colin and Penelope; he realised he couldn't actually handle waiting just twelve more hours - he wanted to be back with his wife right that very second.

Now that their Dublin concert was over and done with and knowing that Sophie's concert in Reading that night would have finished, Benedict couldn't help but feel that now was as good a time as any to simply hop on the next flight home and be with Sophie at long last.

He quickly got his phone out, putting all of his energy into manifesting a miracle last-minute flight being available to London as he googled flights out of Dublin airport that night - and his eyes lit up as soon as he saw that such a flight was in fact going to depart within the next hour.

Jumping to his feet, he marched straight over to Daphne to run his plan of action past her; after all, she was in charge of the band's itinerary. As soon as he mentioned just how desperate he was to see Sophie again, Daphne assured him to leave everything with her. She'd book his flight and cancel his seat on the one the following morning so long as he left immediately. He pecked his sister on the cheek, thanking her profusely before legging it out the room.

In just under two hours he was opening the front door to the home he shared with Sophie, making sure to be as quiet as possible as he made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. As soon as he caught sight of his wife sleeping peacefully in the bed they shared his heart swelled up and the feeling of homecoming washed over him.

Typically after any flight the first thing he'd do is have a quick shower but after twelve long weeks apart from Sophie, there was nothing he wanted to do more than slip under the covers and simply hold her. After ridding himself of every garment but his pants he got into bed as carefully as he could, doing everything he could not to disturb her sleep. Rather adorably she was cuddling a pillow - one of his pillows - as well as wearing one of his old sweatshirts and Benedict couldn't help smiling, elated in the knowledge that Sophie had been missing him as much as he had missed her. He gently wrapped his arms around her, spooning her (and the pillow), and buried his head into her curly tresses.

At long last he was back where he belonged; home.

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Sophie was exhausted by the time she got in that evening and had only just remembered to give a wave of thanks over her shoulder to her driver before she entered her home. Normally at this time she would be buzzing with post-concert energy but as of late once she had finished a show she was desperate to climb into bed and fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

It also didn't help that she was missing her husband dreadfully and had spent the last twelve weeks yearning to be reunited with him in person once more. While his absence had only made her heart fonder of him, she was relieved that come midday the following day he would be home at last. Finally she'd be able to embrace him, to kiss him, to talk and laugh in person, to just be with him - and the quicker she got herself to bed and fell asleep, the sooner she'd be expecting him by the time she woke up.

As she had done since they had been apart, she dressed for bed in an old sweatshirt of his, one she had adopted from Benedict long ago but it still smelled like him and made her feel closer to him despite the distance they had endurd for the past twelve weeks. Then once she was under the covers she grabbed a hold of one of the pillows from Benedict's side of the bed and cuddled into it, treasuring the feel of it against her as her husband's stand-in; and as soon as she was comfortable and had closed her eyes, she fell straight to sleep.

While sleeping soundly her brain flashed up images of her husband, memories of him flopping down on the sofa she was sat on and resting his head in her lap, how he'd always ensure he pointed to her in the crowd whenever she attended his concerts, the way she'd always find his eyes at her concerts and how he beamed proudly back at her, how safe and protected she felt being held in his arms and how she could practically feel his warm breath against the back of her neck as he buried his head in amongst her curls and his hands came to rest on the pillow she was cuddling as he spooned her...

In fact, it almost felt too real to just be a dream.

Sophie's eyes gently opened as her conscious lazily stirred awake and she observed the darkness of the bedroom and the stillness of the night - and then after several seconds it finally registered that there was a warm body cuddling her, the feeling of which was so familiar she knew instantaneously it was her husband.

"Ben?" she rasped, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey." he breathed back against her neck and squeezed her gently in greeting.

"What are you doing here?" she blearily asked, not having expected him home for roughly another twelve hours, and attempted to turn in his hold.

"Couldn't bear to be away from you a second longer." he answered but prevented her from twisting round to face him. "Sleep, my love. We'll have all the time tomorrow." he assured her gently, pressing a kiss against her back, and snuggling into her.

And though Sophie could have blissfully drifted off back to sleep in that moment, before she could succumb to slumber once more her brain kicked into gear and she excitedly remembered a very particular reason why she had been more desperate than ever before to see her husband. Without a second to lose Sophie leaned over to switch on the bedside lamp and shuffled herself to sit up.

"Soph." Benedict groaned, squeezing his already shut eyes even tighter from the sudden burst of light. "There's no need-"

"Oh Ben." she sighed affectionately as she got her first proper look at her husband in the flesh for the first time in twelve weeks, and she leaned down to kiss him tenderly on the lips.

In spite of his disgruntled exhaustion, Benedict was sufficiently woken up by his wife's lips against his as he kissed back without hesitation. He managed to crack open his eyes when she pulled away to gaze at her adoringly, a soft lazy smile curving his lips as he reached out to pull her back in.

"I've got something to tell you." she said as she intertwined her hands with the ones that were trying to drag her into a cuddle.

"Oh, can't it wait?" Benedict grumbled. "The whole point of sneaking in was so I didn't disturb you."

"And that was very thoughtful of you - but this can't wait." she told him; after all, Sophie had been impatiently waiting for the last six weeks to tell him this and there was no way in hell she was going to keep it to herself for a second longer.

"What is it?" Benedict relented with a laborious sigh and reluctantly pulled himself up to lean against the headboard.

Sophie twisted around, opening the drawer of her bedside table, and presented him with a gift box. He raised an intrigued eyebrow, having been under the impression she was about to tell him something but after receiving a nod of encouragement from her he accepted the gift and opened the lid.

As Sophie watched on eagerly, he pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a baby onesie with the words Daddy's #1 Fan emblazoned on it. Benedict stared at it for a few seconds, his brain being affected by tiredness and delaying his reaction when suddenly it clicked and he shot his head up to meet Sophie's sparkling gaze.

"You're pregnant?" he swallowed and she nodded in confirmation. "We're having a baby?"

"We're having a baby, Ben." she answered gleefully and in a flash she was swept up into his arms.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" he chanted into the crook of her neck as he clutched her to him. "Sophie." he choked out and kissed her neck. "Oh god, Sophie I'm so happy. I'm so so happy. I love you, I love you so much." he teared up and punctuated his joy with kisses up the column of her neck until his lips were on hers.

"I love you too." she laughed shakily, blissfully overjoyed with his ecstatic reaction.

"How far along?" he asked.

"Well that flying visit twelve weeks back did the trick." she answered and Benedict's face lit up in amazement.

Having children was always on the cards for them and they had planned to start trying for a baby once Benedict was home from touring, however they had certainly made the most of Sophie's one night in the US to get ahead of their baby-making plans.

"I can't believe it." Benedict beamed. "How long have you known?"

"Six weeks." Sophie exhaled and brought a hand through his hair. "I've been dying to tell you but I wanted to tell you in person instead of over the phone or through a screen. I hope that's okay-"

Benedict cut her off with a searing kiss, an automatic assurance that her decision to hold off from telling him until they were face to face was very much appreciated.

"Of course that's okay." he verbally iterated when he managed to pull himself away from kissing her. "If you had told me over the phone I'd have left the tour without a word of notice to fly home immediately just so I could hug and kiss you. Nothing else would have mattered to me than seeing you and celebrating the baby we've made."

"I guess it's a relief I waited then, for the sake of the fans."

"And for my sake as well, to avoid Daphne throttling me for abandoning the band in the middle of a sold-out tour." he (somewhat) joked.

"Oh well we couldn't have that then, could we?" Sophie giggled and kissed him.

Benedict kissed back, wrapping his arms around his wife and cherishing this very moment for all the joy it brought to his heart. "I love you, Soph." he professed once more against her lips. "I didn't think I could be any happier coming home to you and yet you never cease to amaze me."

He continued to express his overwhelming joy by peppering her with kisses until his lips were sore and he rested his head against hers, professing his unconditional love for her and their baby before they both acknowledged just how spent they were and sunk back down under the covers to rest. Sophie turned over so he could hold her back against his chest and then he rested his hands over her abdomen where he could feel the smallest hint of a bump. With the biggest smile on his face, Benedict pressed one last kiss against Sophie's shoulder, professed his love for her yet again and settled comfortably into the embrace before dreaming the sweetest dreams of the joy-filled future that lay ahead of them.

#benophie drabble #bridgerton brothers au #benophie #benedict x sophie

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peachesofteal · 9 months

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No but hear me out, Simon walks in and immediately knows what's going on and he tries to go the whole "listen to me, I'm gonna take over" route but Darling's well and truly out of his reach and she's about to leave and they just CAN'T have that. She makes a run for the backdoor and the other two are tripping trying to grab her before she can, frightened if she leaves they'll never see her again

I am listening. I am hearing you out. I am loving it. 🖤

18+ MDNI / baby trap au / dark and twisty themes

The tension in the flat is so thick, it clogs the air. Could suffocate him, if he let it. Like cotton, shoving down his throat, blocking his airway, choking him to death.

He can tell something is very, very wrong.

Johnny is staring between him and you, eyes wide and nervous like a newborn fawn. That level of fear, of unease, is enough to string Simon’s spine straight up.

And you… you’re crying, palm clasped over your hand, the other resting over your newly rounded belly, finally starting to show recently in your t shirts and sleep shorts that you’re always wearing. Your belly, where the baby sleeps, and grows. Safe from harm, their baby, their darling. Their whole world.

Except right now, their whole world looks like it’s shattering, holding a death grip on a half packed bag.

“What’s going on?”

“Si.” Johnny croaks.

“What’s going on, is you fucking stealthed me, Simon.” You hiss between a broken sob, stepping away when he shifts forward to stand beside Johnny. “And now he-“ your fingers stabs towards Johnny and he flinches, “won’t let me leave!”

“No, please-“

“Johnny.” Simon swallows everything that’s buzzing in the back of his mind. He shoves it down, away for later. Shoves back the questions of how you found out in the first place, how everything got to this point.

He can fix this. He can take control.

“Darling.” He wants to reach for your neck, wants to gentle you into his grip, soothe you, keep you calm. The doctor’s warnings repeat in his mind; “stress is not good for mum or the baby. Elevated heart rate, lack of hydration and sleep, all of these things can negatively impact mum’s health, and the wee one’s”.

He reaches, moving in one fluid motion, stretching forward to snake his hand around you, but you jerk to the side.

“No!’ You’re backpedaling. Even when you’re so out of reach mentally, if he can touch you, he can get a handle on whatever’s going on with physical touch.

“Let’s talk. Talk to us, darling.” He tries, but you shake your head violently.

“Fuck that. And fuck this. And fuck you! How could you do this? You were supposed to love me… take care of me.”

“We do. We do, darling. We will take care of you-“

“Stop. Just….” You move in a flash, surprisingly fast. It shocks him, jars him. That you’re running. That you’re even trying.

Johnny has a hand around your wrist just as quick, and you scream. It’s full of rage, of pain, and his heart cracks.

“Darling, please!” His heart is pounding in his head, drowning out his good sense. “Listen!”

“Johnny, let GO!” You shout just as loud, and he looks to Simon for guidance.

He takes a deep breath and then-

“We can’t.”

#peaches asks #baby trap au #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #peaches writes #tw dark themes #tw dark and twisty

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loudblonde · 1 year

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Mafia AU (chapter nine)

Summary: (Y/N) and Ghost arrives in Paris, where their building sexual desire for each other reaches an all-time high, it is followed by (Y/N) dreaming about them and a certain ex-lover of his. Everything is going smoothly, so far.

word count: 2 K

+18 themes, minors dni

The ride and sailboat to France landed them docked illegally in a private dock a little after midnight. Ghost was swaying on his feet, barely standing upright. (Y/N) grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards a car waiting for them, he showed Ghost in the passenger seat before taking the driver's seat. The back windows were tinted so back seat passengers couldn’t be seen. They were silent. Neither spoke and Ghost most certainly didn’t sleep. Even if he wanted to. Ghost didn’t protest at the opportunity not to drive. (Y/N) had already napped in preparation.

Ghost saw them drive through small villages that slowly became bigger and bigger towns. Towns turned to cities which turned to Paris.

(Y/N) parked in front of a hotel that didn’t look like a hotel unless you knew it was there, it was carefully hidden.

He got out, grabbed their bags and handed the keys to the first person he saw, Ghost followed behind, like a silent looming threat, ready to take out anyone who got too close.

The inside reception and welcome area were beautiful and luxurious looking. The floor was made from white marble and the carpet had gold-trimmed edges that didn’t look worn down. The furniture all had the same designer-like air to them like they were too expensive to ever drop something on or sit on.

The chandelier above them was crystal and gold, well taken care of and when matched with the matt black flawless walls it was beautiful. Just beautiful.

(Y/N) walked to the reception and placed a black card on the table, looking at the receptionist. “I ordered a room earlier today. Under the name Chip.”

The receptionist who was a young boy, not even 18 years old, gave a timid nod, clearly knowing the name. He gave them a room key and took the card behind the counter.

(Y/N) dragged Ghost off to an elevator and into the first available one. A man with a long grey beard shared their elevator, he had a bit of blood on the collar of his shirt.

“Ah, Cardinal! Did you have a productive evening?” (Y/N) asked.

“Ah, young Chip and… Chip’s boyfriend, I did indeed have a productive evening.” The man said, his voice was that stereotypical southern American grandfather voice, booming and full of spirit.

(Y/N) blinked. “Oh, Ghost here is not my boyfriend.” (Y/N) said before clearing his voice. “We are just heading for our own productive day ourselves. In the morning.”

Cardinal chuckled and leaned in. “The way he looks at you it surprises me you two aren’t together.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. “Have a safe night you two.” The man said with a chuckle as he walked out.

(Y/N) covered his slightly blushing face as the elevator continued up. “How did you know him?”

“That was Purple Cardinal, he is from the old guard. Amongst the ones who taught my generation. He briefly worked with my mum.” (Y/N) explained.

“He looked over 70.” Ghost commented.

“78 and turning 79 this May 7th.” (Y/N) said and chuckled. The elevator doors opened and (Y/N) dragged Ghost with him down the hallway before entering a room that did have a small window and a bathroom with a shower.

There was only a small queen-sized bed in the corner, alongside a small desk and a table with an old box TV sitting on it. “I am taking a shower.” (Y/N) said as he placed their things down, he opened his bag, took out some clean clothes and went to the shower, leaving Simon all on his own.

Simon sighed as he sat down on the bed, he grabbed his mask and took it off, leaving his face bare to the room to see. His hair was sticking to his face as sweat clung to his skin. He needed a haircut, desperately so. But (Y/N) was the priority, and he would always be. Simon glanced at the barely opened door, he was allowed a tiny sliver of a glance into the room where the shower was. But he shouldn’t think about his superior in that way. It would never lead to anything good. Simon glanced up, his mask in hand as he saw just a fraction of bare skin, his scars barely showing in the dim light of the bathroom.

“Join me, there is barely any hot water here despite being in the middle of the city.” (Y/N)’s voice carried from the bathroom.

His eyes widened for a bit before Simon silently stripped off his clothes, he walked into the bathroom and glanced down at the man who hadn’t even thought to allow him to see him without slacks on just a few days prior, who had now openly invited him into the bathroom.

They both knew this was wrong, that nothing good would come off getting close nor personal, yet, as (Y/N) took Simon’s hand and brought him into the shower neither of them couldn’t help but silently hope and pray that the other would make some sort of move before the moment was too late before they would both be forced to give up whatever fleeting fantasy that they were hoping to momentarily achieve.

As they feared, the moment passed and both averted their eyes.

The water was not hot, it barely counted as lukewarm, but a quick washdown had them both cuddled together on the bed in nothing but underwear. Neither man spoke as they let silence dominate the space. Simon wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to sleep without (Y/N) and neither did (Y/N). Simon had managed to sneak into his mind and cling desperately like a hawk trying to hide from a hurricane by sticking to a tree.

(Y/N)’s eyes eventually drifted close and a dream so sweet filled his whole consciousness.

Simon’s lips traced (Y/N)’s inner thigh as the younger man glanced down at the kneeling man. A light smirk played on his lips as he gave Simon a nod of approval. The kneeling Simon wasted no time in taking his cock into his mouth, easily taking (Y/N)’s entire length in. He worked his tongue over the underside of (Y/N)’s shaft as he kept staring up at (Y/N), not once breaking eye contact. “You are doing so good for me.” (Y/N) breathed out as he moaned, his hand finding Simon’s blonde locks but he didn’t hold onto his head.

Simon chuckled which sent vibrations up through the head, shaft and into his lower abdomen, starting a knot of pleasure, like that on a rope, it only kept building as Simon kept sucking more and more. (Y/N) was in paradise when he heard a second voice. “Mein Schatz.” A deep rumbling sound came from the voice behind him. (Y/N) closed his eyes as he leaned against the tall Austrian man.

(Y/N) let out a moan. “Arthur~ you came just in time for this.” (Y/N) said, easily wrapping his hand around König’s head, bringing him down for a sweet and tender kiss.

“I can see that.” König’s voice rang out beside his ear. (Y/N) felt Simon quicken his pace, the kneeling man eagerly working his way up and down without any signs of slowing down. (Y/N)’s senses were going haywire, this was magical, dreamlike even.

“Oh god, Simon I am close.” (Y/N) stated as he felt Simon hum around his cock. “God.” He panted out. “You are so good at this baby, keep going.”

König sucked on (Y/N) neck from behind, sending waves of pleasure that crashed and combined with waves of pleasure that created tsunamis of lust and desire for both men. (Y/N) moaned and breathed out loudly and unashamed before spilling his hot pungent seed down Simon’s throat. Simon pulled away and stood up, swallowing it all before kissing (Y/N). (Y/N) moaned out even louder as he tasted himself on Simon’s lips and tongue. For once he hadn’t been entirely in control and it had felt good.

The dream came to an end as (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open. He found himself alone on the bed. A light groan came from him as he rolled over, pointedly ignoring how hard he was. It was just past 7 in the morning, The sun was bound to start rising around this time. They still had an hour or two before they could get food. He heard the flash of a toilet and water running before Simon walked out and joined him in bed again. (Y/N) wrapped his arms around him again. “We have about 5 hours of driving before we reach the location. We should probably get some food first.” He muttered as he drew small circles on Simon’s chest, he watched as the usual tenseness of Simon left him more and more with every stroke of his finger.

“Do you know when places usually open?” Simon asked, his voice sounding strained.

“Probably around 8 or 9, though a cafe may be open earlier. I’m not certain.” (Y/N) said. “I am happy enough to either get on the road now and find food in the next city or wait for food and avoid the morning traffic.”

“We should probably get ready to leave then,” Simon said though neither man was in a rush to get up. Both just enjoyed the closeness they were able to express freely in the privacy of a room that no one else would be able to see in.

As (Y/N) stayed close to Simon, his thoughts drifted back to his dream, he could still feel his throbbing hard-on that wanted to be dealt with, undoubtedly Simon felt it too but neither man talked about it, they couldn’t, whatever they had had in that remote cabin had been burnt to the ground with it. Their feelings lay as dead as the human remains they hopefully burned to a crisp.

(Y/N) couldn’t make himself even think about the word love. This wasn’t love. It was half-disguised sexual desire and being cooped up in small cabins or rooms together for hours on end without anyone else to talk to or anywhere to go. Simple forced proximity. Nothing else.

Eventually (Y/N) and Ghost got dressed and headed out, both stayed perfectly silent as (Y/N) remained in the back seat of the car, hidden from sight

They hit forest roads and went as far as they could before being forced to carry their luggage the rest of the way on foot. A few falls and a sprained wrist later and (Y/N) with Ghost in tow made it to a small unassuming shed. (Y/N) whistled out a tune and the door clicked open. He stared down the scope of a semi-automatic rifle. “Who is your friend?” A heavy Austrian accent came from the dark room.

“That’s Ghost, he works for my father, he is currently my bodyguard. May we come in, König?” (Y/N) asked. “And do you have ice?”

The rifle disappeared and the door opened more. A man in full tactical gear and a sniper hood stepped out, he towered over both of them with ease. “Come in.” He said before looking at Ghost, his eyes narrowed in distrust but he took (Y/N)’s bag from him and walked them through the maze-like hallways. “I thought you were going to be in England,” König commented as they entered a giant common room filled with couches and random stacks of books in german. Clothes were randomly chugged into different places and the kitchen had a pot of simmering soup.

“Ice packs are in the freezer. Help yourself.” König said as he watched (Y/N) leave. He turned to look at Ghost. “A bodyguard, huh… you sprained your wrist protecting him or something?”

Ghost raised an eyebrow beneath the mask, it wasn’t visible but somehow König knew. “I sprained it protecting him.” Not a lie but not a full truth either.

König nodded. “Separate rooms or one together?” He asked. “I know (Y/N) does get close with the strays he picks up, hell I was one of them and I envy everyone else who gets close enough to fill that void of his.”

Ghost looked away. “Separate rooms. We aren’t together.” He said moments before (Y/N) returned with an ice pack. Ghost stood a little straighter as (Y/N) walked over and gave him the ice pack.

“We will room together, as Ghost said we aren’t together, especially not like we were, but I do enjoy cuddling at night.” (Y/N) said, with a smirk before dropping it and hugging König who more than happily wrapped his arms around the much shorter man. “I have missed you so much.” (Y/N) whispered to König.

König pulled away and removed his hood. He looked down at (Y/N) and smiled even wider. “I missed you too, mein Schatz.”

Tag list:

@rasberry-jupiter @one-green-frog

#cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod men x male reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x you #male reader #simon ghost riley #loudblondes cod mafia au

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aristocratic-otter · 1 year

Text

I'm back! I was absolutely determined, after being sick and swamped with work for the last few weeks, that I would post today. I have so many words to share! But first:

Thank you to you lovely people who kept tagging me even though I've not posted one of these in a month. Thank you to @facewithoutheart, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @fatalfangirl, @larkral, @cutestkilla, @prettygoododds, @artsyunderstudy, @confused-bi-queer, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @moodandmist, @nightimedreamersghost, @hushed-chorus, @blackberrysummerblog, @j-nipper-95, @theearlgreymage, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @ileadacharmedlife, and @wellbelesbian.

Bits from my many, many WIPs below (8? 9? I'm losing track...)

From: A new fic, set in the Age of Sail (one of two possibilities for my COTTA this year):

Simon

The sky is a perfect blue, the breeze is licking against my cheeks like a happy dog, and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is the biggest arsehole on all of the seven seas.

You’d think he was five years older than me, the way he acts, not a measly few months. He’s standing across from me, frowning fiercely as I take my time thinking through the order he’s just given me.

“Show me the cargo hold, cabin boy!”

The command, coming as it was in the high voice and posh accent of the SS Watford’s most obnoxious passenger, caught me by surprise. Tyrannus Basilton, or Baz, as I’ve heard his mother calling him, has ignored me for the most part, since we set sail from the port of Southampton. When he’s come across me in his explorations of the ship, he doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me like I’m something particularly foul that he’s just stepped in.

I hate him.

From: My Cobb!

Why on Earth would Penny be fated to fall in love with a Normal?

It’s impossible. So I should be encouraged, right? This means that Baz and I…that Baz and I…

I wince away from finishing that thought. I don’t know why, but it’s been bothering me more and more over the last few days, the thought that my destiny is to kill or be killed by Baz. Maybe I just wish for a kinder destiny?

No. I can’t possibly wish for that…with Baz…just, no.

From: Westward Son:

Agatha is nuzzling his cheek with her palomino nose, but he doesn’t appear to even notice the horse’s presence. He’s miles away. No. It’s all I can think. No, I won’t let this happen again. No, I won’t let him pull away or lose himself in pain and grief. I won’t lose him.

From: Saving Simon Snow:

Baz’s lips are as soft as I remember. He gasps against my mouth, but doesn’t pull away. He lets me kiss him. Like before, I can sense his inexperience in the way he lets me control the kiss; when has Baz ever let me control anything? But he’s not unwilling, that’s obvious. His lips move under mine, and his body sways towards me.

I slide my hands around his hips and hold him steady. I kiss him. He sinks into my chest. We’re so close now that I can feel the faint chill of his skin under his clothes.

Because he’s a vampire, I think, and then dismiss the thought as irrelevant. Because he’s a boy. No. He’s a man. He’s my husband.

From: Snow Fox, my other contender for COTTA, an American Revolution AU:

I watch the boy, as he bows to Agatha Wellbelove before taking the first position of the minuet. She curtsies in return, before turning to face in the same direction he is facing, and raising her hand elegantly as an offering. He accepts the offer with his free left hand. The pianist begins a bouncy tune, and the pretty young couple begin the mincing steps of the dance.

Wellbelove is beautiful; of course she is. She’s the flower of the colonies. I expect that the British soldiers eying her from the sidelines think so at least. I myself couldn’t care less for her abundant charms. My eyes are dragged over and over to the boy dancing the intricate forms with her.

He’s beautiful too.

From Raising Dragons (almost done!):

“Hey Rosebud,” I whisper. Baz calls me that, and Gran told me that my grandfather used to call Lucy, my mum, ‘Rosy-girl’. I try it out. “My little rosy-girl. Or boy. You are a miracle, you know that?” The baby blinks at me, wisely. As if they’re saying, ‘of course I am, catch up, dad!’.

From To Heal A Broken Mind:

“Dr. Pitch,” she says, continuing to blink at me slowly. “Am I to understand that you’ve been keeping a patient here, in your office, all day?”

Oh. Oh. So that’s what this is about. Fuck, I never thought she’d notice.

“I…” I try to speak, but the words jam up in my throat. I swallow, and try again. “He’s a…friend.”

“Is he not also your patient, Doctor Pitch?”

I fight to control my expression. This is bad. Helplessly, I nod. “He is.”

And from my mystery collaboration!:

“The symptoms all line up with hypothalamic dysfunction,” he reports in a grave tone. “Enhanced senses, hormonal surges, fever, sweating, mania, uncontrollable laughter.”

My heart sinks. That sounds very much like what I saw with [redacted] “Have you found the mode of transmission yet?” I ask.

I guess that is 8...but I started plotting out my discord exchange fic today. So yes, I am insane.

#cotta 2021 #cotta 2023 #american revolution #blue lagoon au #dragon babies #secret project #cobb 2023 #house au #oregon trail au #canon divergent fic #forced marriage au #wip wednesday #co/ws/awtwb #simon snow series

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confused-bi-queer · 1 year

Text

It’s Wednesday and I’m trying to not freak out because I’ll return to school on Monday and goodbye writing time:c

Thanks for the tag @palimpsessed @larkral @stitchyqueer and @cutestkilla

I’m a bit bad with fic recs BUT I’ve been reading long fics lately since I had the time and the last one was Poison In His Blood by notcanoncompliant. I really enjoyed that fic. Stars werewolf!Simon. And I just loved it. Even bookmarked it.

Well, now to the good part.

Regarding my Ballet AU, I’m struggling to end Chapter 14 but here’s some words from Chapter 10, which is the next chapter to come out.

Do you think Baz has suffered enough? Well. It’s Simon’s turn now.

“Snow,” I call him as he drinks the last sip of his water. He looks my way, and raises his eyebrows, silently asking me to go on. “Doesn’t your mum have alcohol? Or something to drink?”

It is getting sort of late, and the drinks always come after a splendid dinner. If we were at the Manor and Father liked Snow, he would have pulled out a bottle of alcohol already to continue with the lovely night. Joking around by getting just a bit tipsy.

His expression darkens a bit. He shakes his head, putting down his glass.

“She…” He sighs, looking away. “She doesn’t like me drinking. It’s bad augury.”

“May I ask for what?”

He keeps looking away.

“Dad was an alcoholic bastard and—Well, I guess you can imagine the rest.”

I really like this chapter, because it led me to write other 4 more, but the words aren’t getting out at all, so I decided to leave that fic alone for now because I’m going to get sick of it if I try to write more. WHICH IS WHY I found myself writing the next chapter for Protecting you like a Pitch.

I have to admit that I feel like that fic is really meh for people who read my stuff for no reason. And it doesn’t make any sense because it’s literally my most popular fic, most kudoed, most bookmarked, most everything, and it still feels smol to me.

But well. Ignored the fic for five months and wrote Chapter 18 last night. I just published it, actually. So here’s a few words because I can’t never leave the boys be happy:

I always dreamed of the Mage loving me; he was my savour, after all, so I thought expecting those feelings from him was only logical. He must have had his reasons to show Watford to me, right? Other than wanting a soldier? A puppet?

I look at Baz, and I can’t help feeling that he was right all these years.

I was the Mage’s little dog, following after its owner without a question.

Of course Baz has apologised for having offended me so many times—I have as well—, but his words were always true. And I always knew, but I tried to fool myself. I tried to accept the Mage’s screams, his reprimands, and disappointed looks, because I genuinely thought I was the problem. And I was. Wasn’t as well.

Watching Baz defend me in such a feral way because it was unfair and wrong for the Mage to treat me the way he had always treated me was a shocker. My world turned upside down.

The chapter isn’t about exclusively that, but I thought of the Mage being an asshole and thought of making these two wips have that in common.

Welp, now tagging! @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @martsonmars @tea-brigade @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @forabeatofadrum @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @moodandmist @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @erzbethluna @johnwgrey @captain-aralias @basiltonbutliketheherb @ileadacharmedlife @kherub @artsyunderstudy @dragoneggos @sillyunicorn @ionlydrinkhotwater @foolofabookwyrm-activated @raenestee @whatevertheweather @ic3-que3n @angelsfalling16 @hushed-chorus @whogaveyoupermission @yeonjunenby @kohatenz @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ninemagicks @nightimedreamersworld @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @onepintobean @shrekgogurt

#simon snow #snowbaz #carry-on #carry on #baz x simon #my writing #wip tag #wipsday #wip wednesday #pylap #trafou

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