#the life of riley

[sliceof-rye]

the day i decide its socially acceptable to wear my party poison jacket to college its over

#girlblogger #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girlblogging #mcr #party poison #fun ghoul #kobra kid #jet star #my chemical romance #michael romance #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #ray toro #danger days #the life of riley #rileys rambles

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 03.31.24

Is it me you're looking for? Yes, I know I've been M.I.A. for a bit, but you guys I'm really trying to upper level adult here. I have decided I'm going to buy a house. So I have hired a realtor and have started the process. When my lease is up again, I WILL be moving into my home.

Let's see if I remember how to set one of these up!

Original post 03/31/24 at 8:02PM EST

Chapter 9: Riley Brooks's Day Off

The Series: Life of Riley Book 2

The Book: TRR

Pairings: Liam x Riley (Liam x F!MC)

Status: Still in the writing process

Since the challenges Constantine had been coming up with weekly for the suitors were getting a lot of publicity for the crown, the suitors met weekly for a meeting with a PR specialist to make sure they had the crown’s best interests in everything they did. They also passed out weekly itineraries of what the Suitors would be doing. Did it ever reveal any events they would be participating in? No, but that their sponsor would be revealing the new task and prize for that week."

Riley thumbed through the itinerary, once than again looking confused.

“Is something wrong Lady Riley?”

“Jenna, my booklet seems to be missing a page. I have nothing for Friday’s itinerary .”

“Actually no you’re not. None of you are. Since I've just been brought into this role, I know you ladies are going through a lot being thrust into the public eye in this magnitude. Lady Riley, you for example, you are coming to us from America and have no experience with dealing with the nobility on a daily basis, and are completely learning how to navigate court successfully from scratch. I recognize this to be quite the experience. The potential reward of all of this is indescribable, but you all need breathing moments for mental and physical wellbeing. We are building in “off days” to your schedule to do what you want with it, a recharge day of sorts, or a mental health day if you will.”

“Well if you’re weak you need days off. I will spend my time training.” Olivia chimed in.

“If that is how you want to spend your day Olivia, there are no wrong answers, it’s free to do whatever you want, as long as you enjoy it.”

That evening:

“Of course, you would have an off day when I’m out of the country.” Liam sounded genuinely disappointed.

“I know I thought about that too.”

“Take it as an opportunity Riley, do some exploring, sleep in a little bit, we both know you like your sleep. Relax. You know, life moves really fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

“You’re completely right Liam. Thanks.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.”

“I do.”

When she hung up with him, she called Maxwell.

“What’s up Little Blossom?”

“I need your help.”

WIP 2

Part 3: Spice Spice Baby

Series: Not officially one: Previous Parts include: Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice

The Book: TRR

Pairings: Liam x Bebe (Liam x F!OC)

Status: Still in the writing process

I have never required that much sleep. There has always been something so peaceful about the world at night for me. I glanced at her once more before getting out of bed. She was soundly sleeping and didn’t even stir from her slumber as I rose. A good mattress will do that, and honestly I think she needed the rest. I slipped on my pajama pants and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

Night time was when I did my best thinking, and the thought crossed my mind that the two of us would be able to pull off this ruse with my coworkers. Bebe really did seem invested to make “us work.” Or maybe she was invested in the paycheck.

“Was my snoring keeping you awake?”

Bebe was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, resting her hip on the frame, her robe loosely tied.

“You don’t snore.”

“And you,” she gently tapped my nose with her pointer finger, “are a liar.”

“I wasn’t lying, I didn’t hear you snoring, or if you were, you weren’t disturbing me.”

“Why are you up, Liam?”

“Why are you up, Bebe?”

She quirked her eyebrow at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I rarely sleep through the whole night, I’m always up for a bit.”

“Why?”

Her stare from across the room was almost piercing my soul.

“Therapist was not one of your duties I'm paying you for in our contract.”

She looked surprised, but more importantly, hurt by my remark. In a split second I had turned her into a business arrangement that she was a prostitute, that I was paying for a service.

“Oh, well you’re paying me a handsome sum, therefore I feel like I should be anything you need me to be at the moment. I’ll just….”

I had hurt her feelings, and snapped at her, and I didn’t even know why, and the look in her eyes, I didn’t want to ever see that again.

“Life.” I called out to her before she was out of the room. Bebe immediately stopped and turned to face me.

“I can relate to that. Do you mind if I just sit up with you for a bit then?”

“No, not at all.”

Bebe settled into the couch next to me. She didn’t say a word, but I found her silence and non-judgment strangely comforting.

WIP 3

Part 4

Series: The Vampires Live On

The Book: TRR

The Pairing: Liam x Riley (in this decade Gabriel x Alice in the past)

Status: Still in the writing process

“We’re here.”

“I really didn’t think it would be this clean here. I know what you said, but looking at the other graves along the way here, I expected the same condition.”

“You know, I can be very persuasive, and keeping in contact as the groundskeeper’s changed over the years, very important in this. “

“I didn’t think they would be buried side by side.”

“Because that didn’t matter here, and since he died, protecting the two of you, his family wanted nothing to do with him.”

“Poor Max. He was such a good sweet guy. What we were, or not completely, never mattered to him.”

I placed the small flower arrangement into the vase at his grave.

“I have missed you dear friend,”

“I’m going to give you some time alone with your sister and friend.”

“You can stay.”

“No, I’ve been with you for an eternity, you have not had any time with her or him since that night. I want you to have some time alone with them. You deserve that.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

Even though the space around her grave was clean, I found myself picking up and pushing the few leaves and debris away to make her area more pristine.

I sat down in the grass in front of her grave and closed my eyes, letting the emotions of finally being here with her again wash over me.

“Hi Clara. I have missed you so much.”

WIP 4

Chapter 17: Finale Part 4: The Wedding

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎

The Book: TRH & Beyond

Pairings: Eleanor x Nico (Elle x M!OC) / Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

Final exams for Liberty had ensured that she wouldn’t be able to come to Greece early to take part in some of the pre-wedding festivities that Elle had planned. Elle felt guilty that Liberty would be missing her graduation from the Crown Academy to come to her wedding; her father had wanted to pull some strings for Liberty, but Elle declined, citing the importance of her education, though she did want her there.

Elle smiled as she panned the camera around the back yard.

"I really wish I was there Ellie."

"I really wish I was there. Libby! Look at you in your cap and gown. Father and I stepped away for a bit to watch the live feed of the baccalaureate."

"Thanks Ellie."

"For what?"

"Just making an effort. I can't wait to see you and everyone."

“Does that include Michail? He looked so sad when I told him you would not be here tonight.”

A slow smile crept over Liberty’s face.

“He looks sad?”

Elle laughed, “You’re clearly not about that.”

“Did he dance with any other girls?”

“Just one.”

“Who?”

Elle’s smile widened.

“Only me, when he could pull me away from Nico, all he talked about was you. He really likes you Libby.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, and he can’t wait to see you tomorrow and neither can I.”

“Neither can I!”

#bebepac writes #choices fanfiction #trr fanfic #trr fandom #liam x riley #the rotten apple #the life of riley #choices fic writers creations #six sentence sunday #elle x nico #the vampires live on #Riley goes to cordonia

[javelinbk]

The Life of Riley

Modern AU based on @pie-of-flames's @beatleskinkmeme prompt

John is a terrible driver, but a broke one, so he lets his aunt get him a job as a chauffeur. His first passenger is Paul, the wealthy son of a successful businessman, whose father wants him to follow in his footsteps. It soon becomes clear that neither men are happy with their current situation in life.

Chapter 1 - Haven’t had a dream in a long time

Chapter 2 - The luck I’ve had could make a good man turn bad

Chapter 3 - I find I spend my time waiting on your call

Chapter 4 - Who’s gonna pay attention to your dreams?

Chapter 5 - You take my pride and throw it up against the wall

Chapter 6 - Why pamper life’s complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

Chapter 7 - Who needs a lover that can’t be a friend?

Chapter 8 - Is that the way we stand?

Chapter 9 - Turned over a new leaf and then tore right through it

Chapter 10 - Is my timing that flawed?

Chapter 11 - But to lose you would cut like a knife

Chapter 12 - Heaven knows I'm miserable now

Chapter 13 - Come on baby, we better make a start

#more shenanigans along the lines of double fantasy and brother dearest #insightful literary art it is not #but hopefully people will find it fun #hope you love these boys as much as I do #also I take back what I said about father and son #this might be my favourite playlist #I just love the idea of john as an 80s gay anthems fan #the life of riley #javelin’s playlists #javelin writes

[slutforgarlogan]

guys i have £0.76 HELP WHAT AM I GONNA DO

#rileys rambles #the life of riley

[weirdlookindog]

The Life of Riley by Myron Fass

(Beware - January 1954)

#myron fass #the life of riley #beware #trojan #comic art #horror comics #comics #pre code comics #horror art

[burtlancster]

"What do you say, luscious?"

#LIKE #the life of riley #radio #1948 #audio

[citizenscreen]

Jackie Gleason as Chester A. Riley and Rosemary DeCamp as Peg Riley in “The Life of Riley” (1949)

#the life of riley #jackie gleason #rosemary decamp

[mortifiedandawesome]

THE LIFE OF RILEY COMEDY OLD TIME RADIO SHOWS #1

#have so many episodes #the life of riley #life of riley #william bendix #old time radio #radio

[kwebtv]

TV Guide  -  October 13 - 19, 1962

Jackie Herbert Gleason (February 26, 1916 – June 24, 1987) ) Comedian, actor and musician best known for his portrayal of Ralph Kramden in “The Honeymooners“.  He made numerous appearances in variety shows and anthologies of the 1950′s and hosted “Cavalcade of Stars“, “The Jackie Gleason Show“, “Jackie Gleason: American Scene Magazine“ and starred in “The Life of Riley“ (1949-1950).  

Caricature by Al Hirschfield 

#TV Guide #TV #1962 #Jackie Gleason #The Jackie Gleason Show #Honeymooners #Al Hirschfield #The Life of Riley

[tomcherryoldtimeradioshow]

The hibernation is over!

Tom Cherry's Old Time Radio Show begins its 13th season on March 23, 2024 at the Farmland Community Center at 3:00pm! The new season begins with the classic comedy The Life of Riley and a special appearance by Baby Snooks! Plus a lucky audience member will get a chance to play It Pays to Be Ignorant!

Featuring the talents of Bob Green, Katy Wolfe, Jeff Shull, Jeff Rapkin, Larry Beck, Debby Girtman and foley artists, Judy Cole and Cliff Lowe!

That’s March 23 at 3:00 pm at the Farmland Community Center (100 N. Main St, Farmland, Indiana)! Tickets are just one dollar! For more information, please call 765-468-7631.

Photograph by Cliff Lowe

#tom cherry's old time radio show #photograph #the life of riley #baby snooks #it pays to be ignorant #farmland community center #cliff lowe #the radio gang #13th season

[loveindefinitely]

01 — 𝘎𝘖 𝘈𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘠, 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, slight power imbalance, praise, degradation, light dom/sub, slight daddy kink, oral, vaginal sex, your father's a dick, very minor soapghost, aftercare

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

Stay in your room, your father had said. Don't bother us tonight, your father had said. They are dangerous men that do dangerous things, your father had said.

Yet, here you were, standing at the bottom step of the stairwell, hiding behind the wall adjoined to the living room, listening in to the men on the other side.

You were bored out of your brains. It was a Friday night, and like hell was your over-protective father going to let you go out or party. And the fact that he wouldn't even introduce you to his only friends? Or let you leave your fucking room?

It had left you pissed off to no end, so.

Here you were.

"Bloody close," you hear a voice grunt, deep and gravelly. It sends heat to your stomach immediately, and it's almost embarrassing.

You hear the sound of a hand slapping a shoulder, and the bark of a laugh. "Aye, still got the cash you're gonna owe me?" This voice has a -- Irish? Scottish, maybe? -- lilt to it, humour and kindness embedded into its layers.

"He'll find a way outta paying," a third voice chimes, laughter in its tone.

Someone else clears their throat. "You're all gonna get yourselves indebted to each other at this rate," a fourth voice says, sounding almost resigned.

"You all need to shut the fuck up before she sticks her nose down 'ere."

Your spine straightens, and fury simmers in your blood. Did he have to be such an asshole? Why was your father so... so anti your existence? Why was he so ashamed of you, yet so overbeating?

"She's not a kid anymore, you really oughtta to lay off," the man with the scottish accent says, slightly stern in his delivery.

"If you met her, you'd understand how fuckin' annoying she is. Always wants me to deal with her emotions, as if they're my fuckin' problem," your father replies venomously. Your stomach has dropped to your feet, you're sure of it.

There's a low whistle in response, and a silence settles behind the wall. An unsettling one, full of animosity. The fact that you can tell that from behind the wall says a lot.

"I'm gonna go out and get some drinks. Maybe some dinner. Needa get out of this fuckin' house for a bit," your father says with a grunt, sounding like he's gotten up from the couch. "Call if you lot need anythin' while I'm out."

A few grunts of agreement, and after a few seconds, the front door opens and slams shut.

You let out a small breath of tense relief, eyes fluttering shut as you deeply exhale. The immediate relief of having your father out of the house is immense.

"I feel bad for her," you hear the third man speak, voice quiet and low. "You hear how he speaks about her -- what's he like with her?"

"Gaz, whatever you're thinkin', drop it," the first speaker grits out, impatient and tight.

"He's right," the scottish one says with a huff, "Poor kid. She's legal and he isn't letting her out on a Friday night? 'Nd he fuckin' wonders why she's upset."

"He must have his... reasons," the fatherly voice of the fourth speaker says, although his tone says otherwise.

You swallow, slowly creeping off of the bottom step and onto the wooden floors. Front pressed to the wall, you move just the slightest bit, to allow yourself a small peak into the loungeroom.

There are four men, like you'd expected, and they're...

They're big. There's no other word that comes to mind, except for big. Tall, broad, packed with muscle. Military-grade men.

Your mouth is suddenly parched of any moisture, and your brain turns to putty.

Selfishly, stupidly, you spend another dangerous moment to admire the four. The couch curves, the four of them seated on it, facing the TV hung on the wall. They're backs are to you.

Or.

One second, they're all blissfully turned the other way, and in the next, one's head turns, and deep brown eyes meet yours.

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately dart for the stairs, heart in your throat.

Rushing up, trying to stay quiet but still hurrying, you make it to your room in record time. You shut the door behind you, chest tight and breaths harried as your back presses to the wood.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

That's what your father had said, wasn't it? So what were you thinking, risking a look? For what purpose?

Then, there's a knock on your door.

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and your lips purse together as you slowly move away from the door. With one breath, you train your face into a pleasant, kind smile as you slowly open the door, only allowing a bit of your room to be shown.

"You're his daughter, ain't ya?"

You have to crane your neck, eyes going up, and up, and up, until you meet the man's eyes.

The skull balaclava shouldn't cause your face to heat, or your breaths to quicken, but they do.

"I -- um, yes, I'm really sorry for eavesdropping," you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor and hand squeezing the door in an anxious gesture.

A hand grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the man's chocolate eyes once more. They're imploring, impossibly so, and your thighs squeeze together against your better judgement.

"Come watch the game with us," he says, and although the sentence isn't a demand, it feels like one.

So, like the good girl you are, you nod, his grip loosening as you do.

You forget that you're in your tiniest sleep shorts and your thinnest tank top as you follow him down the stairs, his large hand resting on your lower back.

This was the most touch you'd ever felt from a man that wasn't in a familial way, and your nerve-endings feel like they've been electrocuted.

Whatever conversation that was happening silences as soon as the two of you walk into the lounge room, your hands squeezing each other painfully tight.

Your anxiety was warranted in this situation, wasn't it? Surely, it was okay to be scared of four men whom you'd never met.

Four sets of eyes are trained to your body, and there's a slight tremble in your hands as you sit in the spot balaclava had gestured towards.

It seats you in the middle of the four of them, and your heart beats impossibly faster as you settle into the leather, feeling so small in comparison to the men surrounding you.

It's a new, albeit not entirely terrible, feeling.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man furthest to your left asks, and when you meet his eyes, they're warm and kind. His lower face is mostly covered in a beard, and he's wearing a light brown hat.

You bite at your inner cheek, gaze flicking back to your thighs as you weakly say your name.

Their gazes burn your skin, like a living force, and your hands form nervous fists in your lap. The warm yellow light of the living room lamp creates a warm, safe ambience that doesn't exactly fit the emotions swirling inside of you.

You flinch only slightly when a warm hand moves to rest on your knee, the thumb rubbing comforting circles on it that ease your tight muscles slightly.

When you look to the owner of the hand, it's to see a warm grin and a faux mohawk.

"You're so tense, lass," he says, his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "We don't bite."

"Don't speak for all of us, Soap," the man sitting on your close left says with a charming grin, his eyes meeting yours when you turn to him. "I'll ask nicely, love, don't worry."

You nod, slowly, in some sort of trance. This entire situation doesn't feel entirely real, more like a figment of your deepest desires.

Ones you've never let yourself think about, except for the darkest of nights and the dirtiest of feelings.

"Don't scare the girl," the man with the balaclava says, eyes narrowing on the two men beside you.

"Says the one with the fuckin' mask, ya weirdo," the scottish one says with a scoff of a chuckle. Your mouth pulls into a soft grin without you realising, and the hand on your knee tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm Price," the man who you've deemed the most sensible of the group says with a warm smile. His head gestures to each of the other three men respectively. "That's Gaz, Soap, and Ghost."

You can't say that you're all too familiar with the names, nor how...different they are, but you nod nonetheless, reserving the names in your memory.

"Father dearest never talked about us?" Gaz asks, eyebrows softly furrowing in question.

You shake your head, almost apologetic in the movement. "He doesn't like to tell me much, he's, ah... private."

There's a few returning grunts of understanding, and they settle your nerves just a little bit more. For men of their size, they were surprisingly good at keeping you feeling safe and comfortable.

"What're you doin' all alone on a Friday night? Pretty young thing like you, 'nd you're not at a club? A date?" Soap asks, and if you notice that he's moved just the slightest bit closer to you, you don't say a word.

You feel your face heat, and you murmur out your reply. "Never been to either," you admit, pulling at a thread in your sleep shorts with nervous jerks.

Ghost settles further into his chair, legs spread in an almost dominant way. "Surely you've at least had your first kiss?"

If you could get anymore embarrassed, you're sure you'll combust on the spot.

You softly shake your head.

"Aw, love, you're adorable," Gaz says, a hint of a smirk on his features. His dark eyes glimmer in the light, and you lick your bottom lip to wet it.

Price's arms rest on his knees, and his eyes seem trained on you, debating some sort of inner conflict, before they firm with some kind of resolution. "Y'know, we've been training rookies lately," he states, but with a knowing undertone that everyone in the room seems to pick up on except for you.

"That we have," Ghost says, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he nods in agreement with Price.

"How about we train you, bonnie?" Soap asks, his hand moving just the slightest bit higher on your thigh.

You swallow, mouth dry.

"Um. Like, train me... how?" You ask, although there's some part of your brain that knows all too well what area they're thinking of.

Gaz's hand moves to sit at the nape of your neck, stroking in soothing movements that leave your eyes half-closed and glassy. "How about I show you how to kiss, love?"

Your stomach hollows, and your chest rises and falls in heavy beats. Nervously looking around the room, you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod shortly.

Soap's hand tightens around your thigh, a barely hidden warning. "Words, baby, or you're goin' back to your room."

The threat instantly has words flying out of your mouth. "Yes. Please. Just... be gentle?"

All four men seem to huff a laugh at that, but Gaz nods, dimples showing as his smirk deepens. "I can do that."

He pulls you in, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours.

The feeling leaves you entirely dazed, your nervous system alighting with signals as your thoughts seem to pause, if only for a second. It's nothing like you'd expected, and butterflies erupt in your lower stomach.

He pulls away, not having breached your mouth, and you must look as out of it as you feel because he laughs.

"That good, love?" He asks, teasing and entirely prideful.

You nod, a bit too fast and enthusiastic, before his hand pulls away from your nape. The loss is mourned, briefly, before your attention pulls away from Gaz and instead to Soap.

"Gotta learn from all of us," is all he says, before his lips crush against your own. Where Gaz was tentative and soft, Soap is all energy and desperation.

His hand squeezes your thigh, and when it had moved from your knee to pushing against your tiny shorts, you haven't an idea.

You can't find it in yourself to care, with his relentless attack on your mouth, your lips, your mind.

When he pulls away, you realise it's because Ghost's moved to stand, and his hand is in a tight fist in Soap's hair, pulling his face away from yours.

"Actin' like a fuckin' mutt," Ghost mutters, tone laced with vitriol. It's degrading, and yet Soap doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

You're about to inquire about that when your attention's caught by Price, his knees spread and patting his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart," he says, and like a dog on a leash, you do.

His unbelievably large hands grab your hips as he seats you in his lap, and with how he's got his legs spread, it forces you to sit over his groin.

It's a compromising position, and the heat that rushes to your core is an entirely unknown feeling.

He doesn't move his hands from your body as his eyes devour it, before they meet your gaze with a warmth to them that has you shivering.

"Show me what the boys have taught you, hm?" He says, and with shut eyes and a stiff movement, you press your lips to his.

He groans, pleased, his thumbs rubbing circles where your skin's been revealed by your tank top. No one's ever touched you there, not in this way, and it has your pussy wet.

When he pulls away, he licks at his lips, as if he's devouring your taste.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart, mm? No wonder your father's got you all locked up," he says, and the reminder of the source of your anger has you wanting to do entirely too reckless things.

Like kissing the four men he warned you about.

Like doing more, maybe.

...Maybe.

His hands force your hips down, and you let out a small whimper when your clit presses against his belt buckle, the action sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He raises a brow, catching the change in expression and your small sound. "What's wrong, pretty?"

And then, he pulls you down again, deeper this time, and the movement has your breath hitching, core burning with need.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he says, and the words have your mind turning into some sort of mouldable clay, entirely able to be controlled by whatever these men wanted to make of it. "So needy, ain't ya?"

Someone presses against you from behind, and a belt buckle presses against your lower back.

"My turn to feel those lips, innit?" Ghost says from behind, leaning down to whisper his next words next to your ear. "See what all the fuss 's about."

The idea that you're being passed around, like you're some kind of... of whore has you entirely speechless in the most positive of ways.

You feel filthy, and you love it.

Leaning your head back, you manage to make eye contact with the large man, before his lips press to yours, upside down.

He devours, all encompassing, his tongue slipping into yours without any hesitance. You're clumsy, unsure, but he makes up for it with experience and dominance. The entire act has you woozy, needy for more of them, more of their touch.

You don't expect for Price to start forcibly rotating your hips, forcing you to grind against his lap, but it forces a moan from your mouth, the sound getting devoured by Ghost's overpowering tongue.

"Who knew she'd be such a desperate slut?" Gaz asks, as if you're not there, as if you're just something to be observed. It causes another moan to leave your mouth, and Ghost detaches himself from you with a grunt of his own.

"Think she liked that," Soap says, amused and proud, in a strange sort of way. "Wanna be used, baby? Taken by men nearly twice your age?"

"Yes," you say, on a groan as Price's motions speed up, the pleasure so new and different and good.

Then, he stops, and a whine comes out of you before you can stop it.

Price makes a condescending noise in response. "Poor babygirl needs all the attention, hey? Needs her little pussy played with?"

"She looks like a goddamn mess, cap," Gaz says, his hand coming up to rest on your head. He gives comforting pats, not unlike one would with an obedient puppy.

Ghost's hands come around your waist, and before you even process what he's doing, he rips your sleep shorts in half, leaving you completely bare.

"Didn't think to wear panties, dumb girl?" Ghost asks with an appreciative groan, his large hand cupping your now exposed pussy.

With a whimper, you shake your head, your eyes squeezed shut at the embarrassment and nudity. No one had ever seen it before, and now, four of your father's friends were getting an eyeful.

"Lemme see if she's nice 'n wet for us," Soap murmurs, picking you up from Price's lap in a princess carry.

It doesn't even last two seconds before he's splaying you over the now empty couch, your hands pathetically covering your most private of areas.

"None of that, sweetheart," Price says with a 'tsk', grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the couch above your head, leaving you effectively defenceless to the men.

Soap's hand moves down your stomach, before he pauses for just a moment. "This okay, baby?"

You nod, because yes, this is most definitely okay.

Gaz gives you a stern look, so you quickly fix your mistake. "I -- yes, sir, it's okay."

There's a surrounding sound of approval, and Soap smirks from where he stands beside your hips. "Sir, aye? Like the sound of that."

With that, his finger slides down your pussy, and your eyes shut with a soft moan. His hands are rough, scarred, calloused from years of work on the field, and they're so much larger than your own.

"Think she likes it, sir," Ghost says, taunting Soap, whose eyes are completely transfixed on your glistening pussy.

"Not the only one," Price says with an approving murmur, his hand tightening around your wrists. The sense of powerlessness has you aching with desire.

Soap's finger continues to rub against your slit, not breaching your entrance, instead continuing to tease and amplify his touch. Your eyes are shut, too embarrassed to look at the mess you're likely causing on the fabric, and too nervous to see the expression on the men's faces.

"Do you play with your lil cunt often, princess?" Ghost says, voice darkened with lust.

Your face feels like it's burning, but you nod. "Sometimes. I -- ah," you break off with a moan as Soap's thumb presses against your swollen clit.

"Be a good girl and answer when spoken to, love," Gaz says with a sound of disappointment that has you aching to amend your mistake.

"I'm sorry, sir, I, yes. Sometimes 'm just needing to, um, y'know..." You trail off, trying to preserve any amounts of dignity you had left. You were aware that masturbation was normal, but you'd never discussed it with a single soul, and talking about it felt like laying your soul bare.

Price's other hand moves to gently brush your hair from your face, the gesture so at odds with Soap's sensual movements.

You're about to say something, what, you aren't exactly sure, when Soap's finger roughly enters your soaked pussy. A loud whimper escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, and the sheer size difference of his finger compared to your own.

"Aww, baby, it's alright," Soap coos, and it's so fucking condescending. It's cruel, almost, as if you're so dumb that you can't even form your own thoughts.

Which is, honestly, more true than you're willing to admit.

"'Atta girl," Ghost groans when your whimpers only increase with every thrust of Soap's finger.

Gaz's hand moves down to replace Soap's thumb on your clit, using the pads of his fingers to roughly circle around it. That sensation, mixed with Soap's intrusion, has your back arching slightly from the couch.

"Think she's close, Cap," Gaz says, conversationally, again treating you like you're not entirely capable of voicing your own feelings or thoughts.

"Mm, that right, sweetheart? Close already?" Price echoes, the hand not around your wrists going to squish your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker. "What a pathetic girl, hm?"

Those words, those demeaning, humiliating words, only stoke the fire in your stomach, and your eyes burn with unshed tears as you shakily nod.

As soon as you do, however, Gaz pulls away, and Soap's finger leaves your pussy entirely. You groan, eyes opening slightly to see what could've possibly caused them to stop.

"You look so upset, baby," Soap laughs, and his smile is no longer the jovial one it had been mere minutes before -- no, it's been replaced with something much more predatory, something much more dangerous.

Dangerous men.

Ghost moves, then, moving your legs with much more care than you'd expected from the large man, before moving to kneel at the end of the couch where your legs had been. Hooking your knees over his shoulder, he effectively folds you in half.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, almost frantic, utterly confused at your current state.

He leans down, hooking his balaclava over the tip of his nose, before there's searing wet heat at your core, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.

Gaz chuckles, "So dirty, love. Like having the big bad Ghost with his head between your legs, huh? Like having the attention of men with blood on their hands?"

Oh, and the confirmation -- the proper, hard proof, that they killed, that they truly were as dangerous as your father had said --

"Yes, fuck, please, oh my god," you ramble, almost incoherent with your words as you body trembles with the feeling of a mouth at your pussy. "Jesus, don't stop."

You can hear laughter around you, some words being passed between the men, but your focus is entirely on the tongue dipping into your folds, licking at your essence like a man starved. Like you're his only salvation.

Soap's hand is in Ghost's hair, a complete parallel to the kiss the two of you had shared, and he's pushing Ghost further against you, manhandling him like a toy for you to grind against, for you to take advantage of.

"I'm gonna, oh, please, I'm close," you cry out, eyes squeezed shut yet again as Ghost's ministrations only double in enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over his face? Go on, ride it, there we go," Price eggs you on, his hand patting down your hair, massaging at your scalp as you lose yourself to the pleasure of it all.

You cum with a desperate keen, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you ride out the high, embracing this moment for the beauty it is.

It doesn't hit you, not at first, the full extent of your actions.

Ghost pulls away after your whimpers turn into ones of overstimulation, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, your twitching pussy, and then your inner knee as he carefully sets your legs back down on the couch.

"Such a good girl, aye?" Soap asks, rubbing at your tense calves with expert strokes and pressure. "Did so well for us, darlin'."

Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, and your mouth is in a similar state as you nod dazedly.

You're not sure when, but at some point, Price gently moves you to lay your back against the cushion of the couch. "Need you to drink something for us, sweetheart, okay?"

Gods, this part? Them treating you like a princess, like you're something worthy of taking care of, it's almost as good as the orgasm they'd given you.

Gaz comes into view with a glass of water, and when he gently moves your chin to open your mouth, you let him pour it down your throat.

It feels almost like you're entirely too weak to do anything by yourself, like your ability to function has been completely removed by these men. It's intoxicating, the kind of feeling that could be as addictive as the most threatening of drugs.

The water slides down your throat, and it's as if it cools you from the inside out, your heartbeat slowly coming down from the quickened pace it was previously at.

Price picks you up, cradling your head to his chest as he sits down, the other three settling down on the couch as well. Gaz, sitting beside Price, moves your legs to sit over his lap, your feet in Soap's. Ghost sits to Soap's left, his eyes focused on you as you get comfortable, burrowing your head closer to Price.

If you could stay in this moment forever, you think that you'll be a very happy woman.

Closing your eyes, you drift into a space between sleep and awareness, and when they flutter open again, you realise that your previously exposed pussy and legs are now hidden by your sweatpants that had been laid on your bed, ready to be put away.

Price's hand is in your hair, softly playing with the strands. His hand encompasses your entire scalp, almost, and if you weren't completely exhausted, that fact alone would have you ready to get on your knees.

"What're we gonna do?" Gaz whispers, and you realise with a start that they must all think you're still dozing. "I mean, we seriously fucked this up."

"Not yet we haven't," Ghost interrupts, voice still gravelly and low, but with a hint of warmth. "This doesn't change anything."

"This changes everything!" Soap hisses back, incredulous, his hands stilling from where they were rubbing into your feet with practiced movements. Were they all trained masseuses, or something?

No. Trained killers, your mind unhelpfully supplies, and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god. Oh god. What had you done? Seriously, what the actual fuck had you done? You just.

You just lost your virginity to four of your father's very lethal, very dangerous friends. Friends who are nearly twice your age, at that.

Oh. God.

"Laswell will be expecting correspondence by three," Price mutters in a voice akin to a whisper. "You boys know what we have to do."

What? What were they talking about? Who was Laswell? What did they have to do by three?

Your mind whirrs, like a hamster in a wheel, before the sound of keys jingling on the other side of your front door has your entire body freezing.

Oh god.

Oh. God.

"Shit," Gaz grumbles, and between one thought and the next, you've been bundled up into a warm chest, the movement fluid and shockingly quick. A hand at the base of skull softly pushes your head against a warm neck, and your legs hang over a muscled arm. "I'll take her upstairs. Be quiet and quick."

There's murmurs too quiet between the other three as you're taken up the stairs, two steps at a time, by the man whose fingers had been on your pussy, at most, only an hour ago.

You're aware that you've been taken to your room when the door clicks behind you, the familiar path to it engrained in your memory, even with your eyes closed and in someone else's arms.

The smell of vanilla and caramel is a comforting and familiar one, and you realise that you'd left your candle burning all night.

It's really the least of your worries, but that thought manages to snag at your conscious like an annoying fly.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Gaz whispers, gently laying you down underneath your bedsheets, before pulling them up and over your lazed form. "I'll try my best to talk some sense into 'em."

You're not sure what he could possible mean -- what the fuck was even happening, what your life was even becoming, but his words are nothing if not sincere.

His tone is almost... apologetic, in a way, and you reserve that thought for later. When you're not pretending to be awake, when you're still not slightly out of it from your first orgasm caused by someone else, when you're not in the middle of the worst moral conflict of your life.

Your window's slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to brush over your still slightly heated skin as Gaz presses a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

"Get off me!"

Your father. That's your father's voice, and it sounds panicked, angry -- not unusual, but still, the cause of it was nearly always you.

And those specific words, what --

"Y'know, Laswell found out somethin' pretty interestin' the other day," a voice that you recognise as Ghost's says, tone mocking interest.

Gaz moves away from you, before going to the window and looking out at whatever scene is happening down there. Somehow, he hasn't realised you're not asleep -- you'd kept your breathing pattern the same as it usually was when you're asleep, some youtube video you'd watched months ago finally coming in handy.

You can hear them all clear as day through the small opening of the window, and Gaz can too.

"Aye. Somethin' 'bout some info bein' leaked," Soap continues Ghost's train of thought, and you're so lost it's almost pathetic.

But, you continue to listen, desperate for any source of understanding for whatever the fuck was happening down there.

"You can't possibly think it was me!" Your father yells, his voice full of venom and rage. To have it not be directed at you is a rare moment, and you allow yourself a small breath of reprieve.

"We know it was you," Price says, before sighing loud enough for it to be heard from your room. "The way you spoke about that kid of yours was enough to cement the idea."

"She's a fuckin' waste of space, and where do you get off on caring how I treat my kid? Has nothin' to do with the job!"

Those words hurt. Like an actual, physical wound, almost.

Gaz swears under his breath, and you can feel the tension ooze out of him like a wave. It's... oddly comforting.

There's the sound of a fist hitting a jaw, and it takes everything in you not to race to the window and look at what's going on yourself.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Your father hisses, and you put two and two together. One of the three men down there had punched him -- if you had to take a guess, it was Ghost.

"You've never been one of us, and you'll never be one of us. You sellin' us out was the last straw, mate," Soap snarls. You can hear him spit on the ground, before another sound of fists flying makes your heart race.

There's a moment of silence, until two things happen in the span of five seconds.

First, your father screams, "Please! Don't --"

And then...

A bullet.

The sound of a trigger being pulled.

The sound of a bullet ringing through the air.

The sound of a final breath.

Your eyes fly wide, and you immediately stumble out of bed.

Gaz's gaze meets yours, and there's nothing but apology in them. No guilt, just apology.

He doesn't stop you from looking out the window, where your father's body lays in the grass, blood leaking from the wound now sitting between his eyes.

And when you turn to him, he doesn't stop you as you land a punch to his jaw.

a/n. CROSS-POSTED TO AO3 ummm so did i PLAN for this to become an actual fic? no. not in the slightest. but i was writing the fingering bit and was like. what if her dad died? and there's an actual plot? so uhhh here we are! anyways hope yall enjoyedddd if u guys know me u know polyamory is my SHIT so there will very likely be more poly!tf141 x reader to come. ty for reading mwah mwah mwah

#🤍 : lust for life #⌨️ : love's writing #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #mw2 #simon ghost riley #soap cod #tf141 #tf141 x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz garrick #cod #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #soap x ghost #soapghost #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod smut

[sliceof-rye]

saga of me trying to find a twinkie but could only find off brand ones so ive sent my dad on a tour of the local stores to get me one cos the off branf one had like half a ml of cream in jt

#girlblogger #girlblogging #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #rileys rambles #the life of riley #evan peters #peter maximoff #twinkie #zombieland

[bebepac]

Garden Party Photo Op

I am participating in @choicesflashfics prompt “ Say that again.... I don’t think I heard you right the first time which will appear in bold

I am also participating in @choiceschallenge-may2023  prompt for vacation.

Without further Ado and it’s been a long time coming since the last update on this series The Life of Riley Book 2:  This is chapter 8 in this series.   

This chapter also contains a companion chapter in Heroes and Villians  called Arch Nemesis

The Book: TRR

The Pairings: Liam x Riley

Rating:  PG

Warnings:  Adult Language

Word Count: 2428

Mood Music Monday Submisson: "When You Believe"  by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey

Summary:  Riley  attends a garden party with a challenge involved to see who will be crowned Cordonia’s Most Photogenic Couple, the prize a weekend vacation to Greece.

Original Post: 05/14/23  at 7:14PM EST. 

A/N: As mentioned any chapter of Life of Riley carrying this callsign 

will have a companion chapter in Heroes and Villains.  The chapters will be similar in plot, but different subjects and perpectives will be focused on, the two chapters together tell a complete story from different vantage points. 

AN2:  I hadn’t planned on updating LOR yet, but I did get a request from the lovely @queenwalton​ as she is a fan of this story line, and it’s a late birthday gift.  So happy belated birthday friend, late but I made it. LOL. 

She smiled when she woke up, stretching out her body while still nestled in the soft plush covers and mattress that felt like she was sleeping on clouds.   Opening her eyes, she glanced around the ornately decorated room. Waking up there every morning, always felt like she was in a dream.  She jumped up, from her bed running  over to the balcony, throwing open the doors, as if she expected the gardens below not to be visible.

  But it was, every single morning.  She had been in Cordonia a little more than three weeks; the ending of the second week at the palace where she was participating in Prince Liam’s social season.  She was living her own Cinderella story thanks to the crown prince of Cordonia Liam Rys, who after spending the night with her in New York, asked her to come visit him in Cordonia for a week, and then asked her to stay. Now this was her life. 

Balls and garden parties, and vying for the hand of a Prince that honestly had already made her life different, and she hadn’t even said the words “I do” yet.

Riley Brooks was not the only one living their own Cinderella story that had Liam to thank.  A young Nicolas Karahalios had everything he owned packed in a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and was standing at the palace gates waiting for entry to live at the palace for the duration of his training. This was different. Previously he was only visiting the palace for training,  now he would be actually staying on site.

“State your full name, and what your business is at the palace.”  

“Karahalios, Nicolas A. I’m beginning level two training for the Kingsguard.”  

The sentry took out a clip board and scrolled through the names.  Nico sighed in relief when the guard picked up a pen and checked his name off the list.

“You're early. Head through those double doors there to take your photo for your level two identification, and from there, you’ll go to uniforms for your cadet training attire.”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck, kid.”  The guard nodded to him, opening the gate.  

“Thank you, Sir!”  Nico slid the strap of his bag up higher on his shoulder and stood in amazement as the palace gates opened for him. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Nico was officially one step closer to becoming a part of the KingsGuard.  Nico stood tall in front of the wall with the Cordonian Crest

 to take his photograph for his badge.

“Look straight ahead.”  The person instructed him.  Nico smiled.

“Don’t smile in this photo.”

“Oh, sorry.”    

Nico quickly made his face serious and level once more.

“Your badge will be ready in a few minutes.  Since you were the first one here, it won’t be so long,  you can go to uniforms and get settled in, in the cadet dorm, and  don’t look so shell shocked.  You made it this far.”  

“Thank you sir.”  

When Nico finally made it to the cadet dorms, he finally decided to call his mother.

“I made it mama! I’m the first one here.”  

He panned his phone around the room. The first side of the room housed the bunks for sleeping,  the other side  had furniture,  desks, and a huge wide screen television.  

“This is nicer than where you were previously sharing an apartment.”

“And Mama, when I become a guard, I’ll have my own quarters here, in the palace.”

“You can do it Nico.  I know you can.  Thank you for the money you’ve been sending us.  I was able to get Athena a beautiful dress for graduation.”  

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Mama.  It’s what I’m supposed to do.  I’ll be able to take care of you someday.”

“You already do that Nico.  I’m proud of you.”  

“Thank you Mama.  I’ve got to go now , some of the other cadets are here now.”

“And you can't be on the phone with your mother, I understand.”  She chuckled softly.

“It's not that. I love you mama.”  

“Go make friends. I love you too, my sweet little Dianooúmenos." (Egghead)

Nico laughed,

 "Goodbye Mama." disconnecting the call.

His mother didn’t realize this was serious, that no one would really be making friends.   People wanted positions in the guard, and everyone had legacy advantages but him.  He was considered to be the outsider that didn’t belong;

 the only one who didn’t treat him that way was Demitri who preferred to be called Dima for short. Dima was the closest person to a friend he had of the cadets.  Nico had already claimed a top bunk for himself. Dima decided on the one next to him. Nico worked twice as hard as the others, and Dima was at his heels.

After Nico had unpacked, he changed into his workout clothes.

“What are you about to do?”  

“Take a run around the wall.”  (The Palace perimeter)

“Want company?”  

“Sure.”  

As they walked out of the dormitory room, Dima looked at him.  

“You know, you’re not the only one with something to prove, Nico.”

“Say that again... I don’t think I heard you right the first time.”

“It’s easy to ride on someone’s coattails, but making your own path is a lot more difficult.  More people should try it.  You and I are really more alike than we are different, you know.”

“Good to know.”  

Riley

“Come in Maxwell!”  Riley said when she heard his knock.  

Maxwell smiled as he walked through the door.

“You know, we have to stop meeting this way.”  

Maxwell laughed  but the door remained open for Bertrand to walk through.   Riley tried to hide her annoyance.

“Yes Bertrand, what did I do wrong now?”  

He looked her over.  

“Nothing that I can tell as of yet, but you did just wake up, which already means you have a late start.”  

“Still getting used to the time difference.”  

“That didn’t matter last night when you were at the dive bar drinking with Drake Walker acting like you’re still a college student.”  

“You’re acting like Maxwell wasn’t there too.”

“Little Blossom! Way to throw me under the bus!”

“I feel like I'm the only one taking this whole arrangement seriously, keeping you two in check is like herding cats.”  

“Meow.”  

Maxwell chuckled.  

“Do not encourage her Maxwell.”  

“Don’t encourage me Maxwell. You know how that antagonizes him.”  Riley imitated Bertrand’s voice.   Bertrand eyed her, shaking his head.  

“Today’s itinerary is simple.  You will be having lunch in the garden.   All suitors must wear white dresses for the suitor photo shoot.”

“Good thing I’m not surfing the crimson wave this week.”

“The crimson what?  Lady Riley if you are referring to feminine concerns…”  

“Or the monthly monster.”  

“RAWR!!!!!!”  Maxwell yelled, causing the both of them to break out into fits of giggles.

“You two!!! Stop it! I mean it.”  

Maxwell cleared his throat.

“We are very sensitive to those types of things, right Bertrand?  It’s a part of life women must deal with.”    

“This is true Lady Riley, if there is anything you need in that department,  I’m sure Maxwell can handle that for you.”

Bertrand straightened his tie taking  a deep breath to continue his conversation.

“Getting back on task, the purpose of the suitor photo shoot is to upload your candid photo with Prince Liam to the Crown’s social media website so the people can be part of the voting for Most Photogenic Couple.  You need to head to your appointment in the boutique.”

“It’s not needed, I have a  dress for the event, Bertrand.”

Betrand laughed out loud.  

“With all due respect Lady Riley, I’ve looked at your social media, and I seriously doubt anything you brought from New York with you, when you were and I quote ‘living my best life YOLO club hopping with my bae’  would hardly suffice for a upscale luncheon with His Royal Highness and the King and Queen. Maxwell, talk some sense into her.”  

Once Bertrand had left, Maxwell peered at Riley.

“Little Blossom….”  

“Trust me Maxwell, I have the perfect dress for the garden party.  I just need to get a steamer, and I can steam it myself to remove any wrinkles it has. I promise, I will look amazing.”

“I trust you.”  

Even though Liam had offered the Beaumonts funding for Riley’s social season expenses, she always felt if she could avoid spending Liam’s money, she would.  She did have the perfect dress.  It  was snow white and ethereal, gently clung to her curves in the right places, and flowy in all the others. Once steamed and after she had straightened her hair but used her curling iron to create loose waves.  Since it was almost time for her next batch of white roses from Liam to be delivered, she decided to use the current ones to make a garland of roses for her hair, making sure she saved one for something special for Liam. She wanted the whole world to know that she belonged there too.

Liam was absolutely awestruck when he saw her walking towards the party, heading in her direction, him stopping her at  the garden archway.  

The way he stared at her made her feel special and desired.  Liam never gazed at anyone with the level of intention in his eyes.  

After speaking for a few minutes, and the Prince pulling her close to him for a few moments, she continued on to the gardens,  meeting up with Hana first.  

“I’m so glad you’re here Lady Riley.”

“You know me,  fashionably late but always in fashion.”  Riley giggled. “I really like your dress.”

“Yours too! Where did you get it?  There was nothing like it in the boutique.”  

“It’s actually a dress I brought here from home.”

“It’s really pretty, I would have never known. You’ll have a really pretty picture with Prince Liam, with your dress and hair blowing in the wind.”  

“That’s the plan!”  

“Shall we go and grab a seat?”  

“Lets, my dogs are barking!”

“Okay Penelope.” Hana commented with a giggle.

As they turned  to take the first steps to start heading towards the suitor’s table, Olivia passed in front of Riley stepping on her foot.

Riley could not contain the curse words that tumbled from her mouth.  She was afterall A New Yorker through and through.  She was able to use curse words just as fragrant as a painter could make a picture on canvas come to life.  

“And that’s why you should be wearing heels and not dollar store sandals.”  

Riley decided not to engage the Scarlet Diva anymore at that moment, but the reckoning was coming.  She had to wait a bit for the crowd to calm down and It was time for lunch, and time for a little payback.  

She decided to survey the serving tables before she enacted her revenge, and let’s be for real, Olivia had it coming.  Riley strategically started heaping food on her plate in a haphazard fashion.  Anything soupy with a sauce made it to her plate, and to drink? The biggest glass she could find was filled to the brim with red wine.  

Target acquired.  Riley made her way back to her seat with her plate that was heaping with food and her larger than life glass of red wine, when she passed by Olivia, she feigned slipping dropping the glass of wine over her head.  

Direct Hit!

“Whoops!”  Riley exclaimed.

Olivia gasped, jumping up, grabbing her arm.  Riley again slipped as if the ground where the wine had fallen off of Olivia had made the grass slippery and her plate of food somehow left her hands, landing all over Olivia’s dress.  

Flawless Victory!

“My apologies, Duchess Olivia!!!!  It looks like I got your whole dress there. Clumsy me!!!”

She leaned into  Olivia with a smirk.  “Must be those cheap dollar store sandals not providing much traction on the grass.”

The Scarlet Duchess’s face was in fact scarlet and she left the garden party humiliated.  

Riley went back in line and got her actual plate of food, finally making it to her place next to Hana once more.

Hana’s eyes were wide and unblinking.  “I really wasn’t expecting you to do that. But I’m glad you did.  She gets away with so much, I’m glad you stand up to her and for yourself.”

“Don’t let her.  All of you guys could stand up for yourselves too, and not let her get away with the things she does.”  

“That’s just not how it’s done here.”  

“Well, it is now.”

Riley glanced across the way, Liam was smiling, shaking his head at her.  Riley smiled back, shrugging her shoulders resulting in Liam’s smile to widen even more.  

Photo Op Time

As Liam posed and took pictures with the other suitors, there were some nice photos in the bunch but they all lacked something special.  Riley went last, and as she walked in the Prince’s direction 

his smile brightened and his eyes twinkled. His world stopped.

“Natural chemistry has  finally entered the chat.”  

Riley fell into a deep curtsy looking up at Liam as she held out one of the roses she had clipped. 

“A matching rose for you Your Highness for your lapel, for our picture together.”  

“That’s a lovely gesture Lady Riley.”  

After placing the rose, Riley straightened it.  “Perfect.”

Riley faced the Prince for her photo as all the suitors before had done.  But once their eyes met, there was no denying the electric sexually charged energy of the two together.  Neither heard the snap of the camera until Ana De Luca spoke.

“Wow, that was a great picture, but I don’t think the people are ready for a photo with this much raw heat to it.”  

“I request a copy of that one Ana.”

She nodded.  “You two don’t even need to face each other to create chemistry, it happens on its own.”  

Before Ana could actually direct them Liam and Riley fell into a pose different from all the suitors before.  

“There it is.   Perfect.  This picture displays " The Royal Romance.”  

All the suitors' pictures with Liam were touched up and uploaded to the Crown’s social media website for voting.  

Riley’s picture with Liam won by a landslide, meaning she would be going to Greece with Liam; the man she loves. The girl that had come from lowly beginnings being adopted, and losing everything she had to  meeting a kind attractive stranger was now around the world getting stamps on a passport she never thought she would fill, living her best life.

Cinder - fucking - rella  in the house or should we say castle?

Just Breathe....

#bebepac writes #the life of riley #riley goes to cordonia #liam x riley forever #choices fanfiction #play choices #trr liam #trr riley brooks #trr nico

[yooo-lets-go]

Happy Valentine’s Day ♥️

To everybody except Hesh, I guess

#hesh looking into the camera: #it’s the ghosts annual morale boosting party and they are pretending it’s their wedding I can’t do this anymore #they had riley bring them spare grenade pins as rings I have never been more embarassed in my life #call of duty ghosts #call of duty #keegan x logan #logan x keegan #david hesh walker #logan walker #keegan p russ #riley the dog #cod logan #cod keegan #cod hesh #cod riley #suggestive #walruss

[whoslibby]

‘i’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t mind him saving me.’ you whisper to your friend at the bar the two of you worked at.

your friend hiss out a giggle at your boldness, talking about the group of army men that had been regulars. a group of them. a guy in a skull balaclava that got lift to his nose when he drank his pint. a scottish man who always order a scotch no matter the day. a nice scouse man with a cute hat who ordered a cider. the three of them regulars you came to like.

‘I know i’m fine without a man but I wouldn’t mind his protection.’ you whisper to your friend towards the man with the skull balaclava. he didn’t say a lot except from when he ordered his round.

you couldn’t help but say these things to your friend who wouldn’t stop giggling as she poured pints. as the skull man came up to the bar he came to order and you instantly went to serve him. ‘the usual?’ you question.

‘shots please,’ he muttered seeming not to happy himself.

‘on a wednesday night, bold,’ you say as you grabbed out three shot glasses pouring them. ‘$6 please,’

‘not m’choice, johnnys on the piss,’ he says as you hand him the three shots. you let out a soft chuckle as you take the money from him before putting it in the cash register.

when he went back to his booth you couldn’t help but giggle to your girl friend about it. giggling everytime he took a glance at you.

it wasn’t long until his drunk friend johnny was coming up to the bar ‘you see ghost? big guy. he wants your number!’ johnny says with just as much as a giggly tone himself, the shots going straight through him.

‘oh really? hand him this.’ you write his number on a napkin. you always avoiding giving your numbers to strangers but when he looked like he would go to prison for anyone that would hurt you. it was intriguing.

#jj talks #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #prison for life

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #be fr how mad would yall REALLY be??? #toxic simon for LIFE #drabble