mayflysdie

[mayflysdie]

Hello! I am requesting a part 2 of No More. Please and thank you! Love your work.

I’m getting lots of requests for a part 2 and guess what!

I’m in the process of writing it :3

It might take awhile, because I really want to nail the characters and their emotions.

But thank all of you for the love and support on it! ❤️ hopefully part 2 will meet your expectations.

[mayflysdie]

No more. -Ghost FanFic

Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.

Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)

A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.

When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent. 

I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear. 

" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling. 

“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way. 

As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.

In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.

Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.

The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.

I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin. 

“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them. 

“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before. 

Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?

“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.

Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.

the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world. 

“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines. 

“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”

My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him. 

He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. 

The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you. 

it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record. 

Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you. 

Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other. 

Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on. 

Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.

He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.

Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.

Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.

As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.

He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand. 

The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.

Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind. 

“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him. 

Simon can’t be here.

He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.

No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.

And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child. 

Not my family, not again.

No.

No.

No. 

This world will burn before something happens to them.

Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.

“Simon?”

Simon isn’t fucking here. 

[mayflysdie]

stay safe out there 🫡

[mayflysdie]

You're standing out on the front porch watching the storm roll in. The crank radio crackles with the weather, reporting that the tornado watch has just been upgraded to a warning. You take a sip from the can perched between your fingers and duck your head out from the cover of the porch to squint up at the sky. It doesn't do much more than drench you, but it's good feeling the rain on your skin.

The wind stops. The sky goes green, then black, then the sirens go off. The steadily increasing wail of them sure makes this all feel eerie, especially when the rain starts pounding the side of the house like it owes the weatherman money. Your radio putters to a stop, and you turn to rotate the hand crank. You barely bend down before an arm hooks your waist and you're seruptitiously scooped up and thrown over a very muscular, and well loved, shoulder.

Simon moves in quick, long, strides around the house, uncaring of the downpour when he's so singularly focused on moving you. He kicks open the storm cellar doors and all but throws you down the stairs. Catching the back of your shirt when you stumble to make sure you don't break your neck. You turn to ask him what the big deal is and he gives you a rough, tight, "stay here" before slamming the door in your face.

Wha- you gotta get the fucking generator running, you don't have time to be sitting in the basement!

-

Ghost grabs the wind up radio off the porch swing and hastily cranks it back to life. Price wanders onto the porch and follows the same motions you did, sipping his beer as he glances up at the sky. "Look at that," Price whistles, just as the wind picks up. You come trudging around the house with a can of gas and Ghost feels his chest tighten.

"What the fuck did I tell you?" He grunts, intercepting you before you can find whatever you're looking for. You're once again tossed over his shoulder and deposited in the cellar where it's safe. Now for the rest of the muppets on this farm.

The dog wriggles when he picks it up, licks his face eagerly and freezes when thunder claps. Only to pick up it's wriggling again in earnest when Ghost passes you, once again out of the safety of the cellar. Ghost grabs the back of your overalls and drags you back to the cellar. He's going to hog tie you. You're not about to get sucked into a tornado if he can help it.

-

Soap glances out the window as the house starts to shake with the sheer battery of rain against it. He shoves his passport into the bag of necessities he's hastily been throwing together. Christ he doesn't even know what he needs in the event of a tornado. Anything he doesn't want to risk losing, but nothing that he's willing to die for.

Gaz nearly kicks the door open, and Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the noise.

"Steamin' Jesus, ah thought the bloody tornado was in the 'ouse," Soap clutches his heart, switches to clutching the cross around his neck when that doesn't feel like enough. Jesus wept he never jumped so high in his life.

"Price is sittin' on the porch like a fookin' madman," Gaz breathes, the words pouring out of him faster than the rain.

"Where's the doctor, we're gonna need 'er?" Soap asks, suddenly the idea that his captain might be torn asunder seems all too likely.

"It's not the bloody apocalypse," Gaz tells him, shouldering his own go-bag, his eyes as frightened as Soap's rapid pulse, "Just a tornado."

"You are such a fuckin' liar, ahm watchin' the rapture oot there." Soap gesticulates towards the window. Duck stops by Soap's open door and gives the two of them a look.

"Do y'all want a beer for the road?" She asks, unphased by the storm that seems to be bearing down on them. Soap and Gaz stare at her.

"The road?" Gaz asks.

"Thompsons say they saw this thing touch down so I'm gonna try wrestling your captain into the cellar." She shrugs. Soap pales, his eyes dart to Gaz who is already halfway out the door.

"I'm not dying in bloody texas," Gaz grumbles, scooting past Duck, who gives another shrug and follows after him.

Soap starts his hail Marys, may as well get those out of the way.

-

"-really the proper way to experience God's wrath," you joke. Your arms are tied behind your back, legs tied together as you sit on a little folding chair in the cellar. Soap doesn't laugh. Simon sits with his head in his hands. Gaz's foot taps impatiently on the concrete floor.

"Will you stop being such a man!" Your mother gripes, wrestling with your father as he attempts to wander back up the stairs and out into the world.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know the thing's past us?" Price bites back.

"S'what the radio's for," Simon grumbles.

"Did anyone remember to latch the paddock gate?" You wonder aloud.

"You keep your ass in that seat or I swear to god," Simon glares at you.

"You'll what?" You glare, "tie me up and throw me in the cellar?"

[mayflysdie]

Don't Move (1 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, hand necklace, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dom!Simon, clit play, orgasm denial, established relationship, face fucking, choking / gagging, cum swallowing, praise

Word Count: 1k

A/N: part of the Imagines & What If series

When you step out of Simon’s touch, he deals out a bit of punishment.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // don't move masterlist

In public spaces, Simon loves to mark his territory.

It is always a hand on the back of your neck. A possessive hold that keeps you close to him. When you move, he moves. There is no PDA. No kisses or soft caresses when others are nearby. Just this one simple touch that conveys everything Simon wants to say about your relationship.

Simon’s hand on the back of your neck is a comfort. He is always gone. He is always elsewhere. Knowing that he’s here—feeling his constant touch—keeps you grounded.

But right now, it’s a bit of a hinderance. You want to move. You want to talk. But with Simon’s hand on the back of your neck, you’re unable to go far. Rolling your shoulders, you try to move out of his grasp. His fingers fall away briefly, but they return almost as quickly.

He’s not wearing gloves, and his fingers press into your skin, reaffirming his hold. The sounds of the bar become distant, and all you can focus on is Simon’s warm breath as it filters through the balaclava to brush against your cheek.

“Move my hand again and find out what I’ll do to you.”

Simon speaks softly enough that only you will hear. For a moment, your body heats at the idea of Simon punishing you. But it’s not enough to quell the rising irritation. There are people here you want to speak with, people you have yet to see. Parties are not your thing but these are all people you know.

Whatever. A punishment from Simon is always done at home. In private.

Using your body weight as leverage, you twist out of his grasp entirely, spinning around to face him. You’re defiant, snarky, and you confront him with hands on your hips.

Simon is silent. Hovering.

It zaps your resolve. Sucks it out of you like liquid through a broken straw.

His head tilts to the side a bit and you know you’re done. It’s over. With effortless grace, Simon turns you around, and begins herding you to the back of the bar. You don’t even protest. It’s better not to, but where is Simon taking you?

He guides you down a back hallway, shoving open a door that reads “Employees Only.” An overhead light comes on, and Simon kicks the door shut, engaging the lock.

Simon doesn’t let go of your neck. “Hands on the wall.”

“Simon—”

“I told you what would happen. Put your hands on the wall.”

Obediently, you do so. Still, Simon keeps a firm hold on you.

His free hand slides over your hip and slides underneath your sundress, finding the edge of your underwear. “Spread your legs,” he murmurs against your ear.

They start to part, and Simon pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers sliding over your sex, parting your wetness. He circles your entrance with one finger and then works back to your clit. Once there, he gently flicks over it. Again, he repeats, before retreating to catch some of the new slickness forming.

He uses it to circle your clit in slow sweeps that are achingly gentle. You know what Simon’s doing. You know what he’s up to. He’s going to bring you right to the edge and then pull away. It’s his favorite form of punishment.

You try to resist the tug, but it’s too much. The orgasm growing under your skin is a viper. It wants to lash out. To break free. You whimper, pussy squeezing around nothing as Simon finds that rhythm that always seems to break you open.

Simon brings you right to the edge, the viper teeth poised to sink into flesh, but at the very last second, Simon removes his hand from between your legs only to bring is palm down on your ass.

The sting is sharp, and your body jerks with nowhere to go expect to bump into Simon’s front.

“We’re not done.” His balaclava covered face presses against your temple. You hear him inhale. “On your knees.”

You sink, and Simon’s grip on your neck is a brand. You know what you have to do without Simon having to say anything.

Reaching out, you start to undo the buckle on his belt. Once gone, you work the button and then the zipper, shifting his jeans open until his hard cock is revealed to you. With the obedience he requires, you open your mouth, presenting yourself to him.

Using his hold on your neck, Simon drags you forward and up to the very tops of your knees. Your thighs burn from the position. The head of his cock drags over your tongue. His other hand goes to the top of your head, and you are no longer in control.

Even though this is a punishment, it feels fucking good. And knowing he’s too impatient to wait until you get home is almost a victory. Really, you’re winning, breaking Simon’s resolve a bit.

The head of his cock slides over your tongue again, and then it’s not. It’s down your throat, and Simon is holding there, watching as you gag around him. It’s momentary, a brief flash, and then he uses your mouth as his own personal toy, moving you up and down his cock at whatever speed he picks.

It is rough and brings tears to your eyes, likely messing up your mascara. Your hands grab onto the front of his thighs, but it doesn’t do much other than keep you steady. Simon has all control here.

He hits deep, makes you gag loudly before drawing back. Saliva drips off your chin but you hardly care. You’re a goddamn mess, but you’re loving this, loving the way Simon uses you for his own pleasure.

Simon shivers, and his grip tightens. It’s his sign, the signal you know as his end. You relax your throat as Simon holds you completely flush against him, your lips suctioning around the base as he spills down your throat.

Without prompting, you swallow. And when Simon drags his cock out of your mouth, you keep it open, showing him how good you are. Slowly, his hand on the top of your head falls away, and he’s helping you off your knees.

He kisses you through the balaclava. “Are you going to move my hand again the rest of the night?” he rasps.

You shake your head.

“Good girl.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk

[mayflysdie]

"Morning, sleepy head."

"It's past noon, innit?" Your hair's a mess, everything hurts, and your bare toes are growing numb from the chilly spring air.

But the coffee smells good, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction at your ruined state.

"It is." He holds his cigarette between his teeth and offers you the blanket. And a place on his lap.

[mayflysdie]

18+ MDNI Simon fucking you in a headlock

You've been obsessed with his arms since day one.

And you finally asked him to do what you wanted for a while.

He made sure that you were comfortable, asking multiple times if you were ok.

And you breathed out 'yes' eagerly each time.

And now here you are as he fucks into your sopping pussy while having you in a headlock, thick veiny arm wrapped around your neck.

The burly mass of muscles puts enough pressure to make you dizzy, increasing the already intense pleasure of his fat cock splitting your weeping cunt open.

His other hand reaches around your body and lands on your sensitive puffy clit, rough fingers circling and pinching it while his wide hips slap against your rear with each ferocious plunge into you.

"You gonna be a good girl and cum f'me?" he grunts into your ear as he feels the ever increasing pressure of your pulsating pussy on his cock.

And you can only hum in response, the razing pleasure too much to bear, too much to let you form any coherent words.

You hold on to his strong arm wrapped around you, nails digging into his bicep and forearm, surely leaving crescent marks on his skin.

The delightful mix of sweet sensations, the aching drag of his thick cock along your sensitive walls repeatedly with the dizzying pleasure of his arm around your neck,

while his swollen red tip viciously attacks your gummy cervix and his calloused fingertips rub against your puffy clit send you to a state of pure engulfing euphoria.

And streams of your juices and cream gush out of you as you let out hiccupped moans, blended with his low growl of sheer pleasure as he fills up your welcoming womb with his seed.

[mayflysdie]

This Price thot that got away with me..❤️‍🔥🖤

The fire had started to die down, John grabbed a piece of firewood he’d freshly chopped this morning while you lounged in the sweet little pillow and blanket pile you’d made earlier by the fireplace, trying your hardest to ignore the slight stretch you felt with a plug inside your aching core, keeping you stuffed full of Price’s cum. Your clit still pulsing from the memory of his filthy words.

“That’s it sweet girl, taking my cock so well. Let it out love, let it all out.”

Price flung the wood onto the fire before pulling away the soft heavy weight blanket hiding your needy body from him. His ocean eyes raked over your figure, admiring the way you shook with pleasure. His truly oversized hands began teasingly tracing over your skin, his pearly whites flashing under the bushy mutton hops and full beard when you twitched as his fingertips glazed where your thigh and hip met.

Slowly sliding the plug out of your dripping cunt, he felt himself harden even more, his cock becoming painfully tight. “Fuck honey, this pretty cunt, fuck.” He shook his head, eyes fixated on the way his cum from this morning dripped out of you. There wasn’t a prettier sight than this.

How he longed to keep you stuffed full of it so you wouldn’t even think of leaving. Not that you would, Price likes to think by this point he’s reconditioned your mind to need him and only him for anything even the tiniest things like dropping a fucking apple on the floor, in fact he prides himself on it.

“John.” Your back arched, his body moulded against yours, fitting perfectly together, being made for eachother had its perks, he thought. His hairy, sturdy chest pressed against your tits, squishing them there. His scent consumed you, fresh rain, cigars and something musky.

His thick fingers stroked down your stomach, grabbing softly at the pudge there before he slid into your throbbing hole. He could never describe the satisfaction he gets from seeing the blissed look you get on your face when he first slips his fingers inside you.

“Let me hear you love, nice and loud for me.” Price growled from somewhere deep within his chest, his pupils dilating until you couldn’t see any blue at all. “Gonna fuck you,” he grunted his fingers thrusting in and out of you, curling just right just where you needed it, “But you’re gonna cum all over my hand first.”

The fire ablaze once more, just like the feeling that burned in your lower abdomen. That coil that got tighter with every slide against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Fuck I can’t, too much.” You whined, pussy still sensitive from the way John had woken you up with his tongue lapping at your clit. And fuckkk the way he’d flipped you onto your back and pounded into you from behind until you were cock drunk, only able to say his name on repeat.

“No, come on now, be a good girl for me,” Price’s voice transformed and you wondered if that’s how he spoke to his unit. Before you even had chance to say you couldn’t again, he brushed his thumb over your achey clit. You sobbed, moaning into the evening air, your hips jerking up against his hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed darkly, “look at you buck your hips like a good fucking girl.”

“Fuck Johnnyyy.” The way his eyes shot to your face, your pretty eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back digging into the pillows on the floor. Johnny, it was a very limited nickname for him, only hearing it on very rare occasions. But every time he loved it.

“Oh you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, even if he had to force you, you were going to cum for him. Adding a third finger and changing his angle, he bullied your cunt, plunging in and out desperate to feel you gush.

Pulling his body away from yours and leaning down, he dove right in, tongue licking, sucking and flicking at your clit. “Oooo Johnny yes! John fuck keep doing that baby!” Your hips jolting, almost riding his face not that he minded. You kept going, feeling your body burn with need the faster you bucked and the deeper his fingers went.

The feeling was so addictive you never wanted it to end, never wanted to come down but the world was against you. Your orgasm slammed into you pushing you to arch your back into the air, no longer able to jerk your hips away John saw his opportunity to hold you there and lick lick lick, until you screamed squirting onto his face and hand.

“Fuck off John!” You screeched trying to push his face away with your hands but to no avail, the way he kept you bent, you could barely reach. He stayed there a while before eventually taking pity on you and pulling away.

His thick facial hair soaked with your juices, “I thought I was Johnnnyyyyy.” He mimicked you with a fat grin on his gorgeous face.

“Fuck off.” You spat moving to turn on your side so you could get up, only for his big hands to roll you all the way onto your front. His body moulding with yours once more, you could feel the thickness of him, the hair. It made you burn with anticipation.

“Now where d’ya think you’re going love? I told you I was going to fuck you.”

©️ squishycheekanon 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[mayflysdie]

MothThorn

Not cod related- but something I’ve been working on for awhile.

( though I am down to change it to anyone’s favorite cod character. Like swap the male lead for Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Price, etc )

I’m trying to improve my writing, character development and world building so this is just a rough draft, I guess?

I suck with dialogue so forgive me.

Word count: 3,856.

( not proofread or edited.)

Leaning against the balcony, high above the city of Moththorn, I am struck by its frozen beauty. The streets below stretch for hundreds of miles, each building and corner emitting a soft, ethereal glow in the darkness of nightfall. Despite the storm brewing above, the city remains untouched, as if protected by a veil of magic. My slender index finger traces along the rough stone siding of the balcony as I gaze towards the distant mountains. The purple lightning dances around them, caged and contained only to strike the mountain's peak. It's odd how such intense storms never touch our city within the golden walls; not a single bolt of lightning has ever touched its sacred grounds.

I've asked my mother, Queen Azola, about it but she skirts around the question, warning me sternly to keep it away from my father.

"We could be cursed," I mumble to myself as I turn back towards my chambers. Suddenly, the wind picks up, whipping my hair and gown around me. My head snaps up and I hold my hair out of my face, looking towards the mountains. Don't ask me to explain it, but I know that mountain is somehow involved in everything.

That's when I see it - or at least, I think I do. Blinking rapidly, I try to convince myself that it's just my mind playing tricks on me. But no, as I squint my eyes, I can clearly make out a giant pair of red eyes on the side of the mountain. Like a giant bonfire amidst the darkness, casting an eerie light over the land.

Gasping in shock, my hands fall to my sides as I stare at those mysterious eyes. I've seen them before.

"What are you?" I whisper softly, wishing desperately that I could speak to whatever is behind them. Are these eyes the reason why lightning only strikes this mountain?

And just as quickly as they appeared, the eyes vanish like a fire doused with water.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days have passed since I saw the eyes, keeping what I witnessed to myself as I don't trust anyone. Father would storm the mountain, waging war on whatever beast resides there- and I don't want that, I don't wish harm upon it.

I walk down the candle lit corridor towards the library-the restricted library. To search for answers, since no one else is eager to answer them.

My family is hiding something, and I refuse to be another clueless princess sitting atop her castle. My emerald green eyes hold a fierce determination, one which I'm sure mother would scold me for. 'princesses should look sweet, never fierce. Keep those eyes like a doe child, must I repeat myself'. I recall one of her many lectures and scoff to myself. A proper princess I will never be.

The air in the restricted library was thick with dust, making me sneeze the moment I stepped inside. I glanced around at the towering bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, feeling a thrill of both excitement and trepidation. The answer to the mystery of the mountain must be hidden somewhere within these walls.

I approached a particularly weathered bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found one that seemed to call out to me. It was an old leather-bound volume with intricate golden lettering on the cover. As I opened it, the pages emitted a soft glow, illuminating the room in an otherworldly light. That's strange, all spell bound books should be in a case. My interest grows, eager for an unknown reason.

The text inside written in a language I don’t t recognize, but as my eyes scanned the words, they began to shift and change before me. Slowly, the letters transformed into a language I could understand. What the hell. but before I could read them, the sound of guards outside the door makes me snap the book shut, and I hide beside a bookshelf.

I grumble under my breath about the monstrous dresses my mother insists I wear, pulling the fabric closer to me in an attempt to hide it from view. "That's it, I'm making a wardrobe change. I look like a goofy clown".

My heart skips a beat as the guard's footsteps halt at the door. Standing there for what feels like eternity.

I exhale sharply when the sound of the footsteps fades, and the doorknob remains untouched. As I catch my breath, I lean against a nearby shelf, my gaze trailing down to the book in my hands. It's oddly warm, but not burning me.

The book seemed to hum with a faint energy, as if urging me to open it once again and delve into its secrets. And, with cautious curiosity, I cracked it open, my eyes widening in surprise as the pages shifted once more to reveal a map unlike any I had ever seen. It depicted the city of Moththorn, the surrounding lands, and the mountains in exquisite detail.

But what caught my attention most were the intricate markings around the mountain that had the mysterious red eyes. Symbols and runes adorned the area, pulsating with a soft light that seemed to match the rhythm of my own heartbeat.

As I studied the map intently, a whisper of wind brushed against my skin, carrying with it a soft, melodic hum that seemed to resonate from the very pages of the book. The symbols on the map began to glow brighter, guiding my eyes to a hidden passage inscribed in elegant script at the edge of the page.

"In the heart of the mountain where shadows dance,

Lies a secret older than time's endless trance.

Beneath the red eyes that watch and wait,

A dragon sleeps, guarding Moththorn's fate."

My breath caught in my throat as I read the cryptic words, my mind racing with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. A dragon, here in Moththorn? Could it be possible that the creature behind those fiery eyes was not a curse, but a protector of our city, warding off the storms and keeping us safe all this time? " is it protecting us, or protecting something else?" I mumble to myself, eyes narrowing as my mind races.

Determined to uncover the truth, I close the book gently and tuck it into the folds of my dress before stepping out

I quickly race down the corridor, straight to my chambers.

After checking that there are no maids nearby, I lock my door and head to the balcony. Settling into a chair, I retrieve the book. It's not as warm as before, and the glowing has diminished significantly, but as soon as I open it, the glow returns. This time, the pages transform into a new map, one that I can guess reveals the mysteries inside the mountain.

The map before me was intricate, filled with winding passageways and hidden chambers marked by ancient symbols. My heart raced with anticipation as I traced the intricate lines with my finger, following the path that led deep into the heart of the mountain.

As I studied the map intently, a sudden gust of wind swept through the balcony, causing the pages to flutter wildly. In the chaos, a faint whisper seemed to echo in my mind, guiding me towards a specific chamber marked with a swirling symbol that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly light.

I look up at the mountain, my heart pounding. “ are you trying to show me something?” I whisper to the mountain, as if it’ll answer my question. My eyes fall back onto the pages and I do my best to memorize them, taking mental notes to write down later.

As I flip through the pages, the words rearrange themselves in front of my eyes so that I can read them aloud. "The dragon, Zephyr, is known for his black and red scales in his Draconic form, symbolizing his high rank among the dragon race. Among his many powers are lightning and fire." I continue reading and learn that there is still more to discover about Zephyr's abilities.

My attention then shifts to a description of his immense height, towering over even the western tower. I shudder at the thought of how much bigger he must be compared to me. I'm not even the size of his toe-if he has any. Trying to shake off the fear, I return my focus to the book, only to see the words stop glowing and returning to their original language. Disappointed, I frown at the book in my hands.

I stand up slowly, my fingers tightly grasping the book as my mind begins to race with possibilities. "Draconic form," I whisper under my breath. Could he really have a different form, one that is human? My thoughts run wild, jumping from theory to theory as I try to make sense of even the smallest clue.

In a frenzy, I hastily hide the book in my closet, shoving it beneath an old box filled with forgotten childhood toys. I rush out of my chambers, realizing how late it has become. Surely my mother must be searching for me by now, ready to drag me to dinner. I'm sure she'll have something snide to say once I arrive.

As I approach the door to the dining hall, I nod at the guards stationed there, forcing a smile onto my lips despite the turmoil within. The doors swing open and I step inside, the warm scents of food and candlelight greeting me.

My mother's sneer greets me as I walk into the room. "How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Elysian." Her sarcastic tone is all too familiar, and I wish I could make myself deaf to it. I quickly take a seat. "Sorry, mother." I glance at my father, who is engrossed in whatever he's reading on his paper. It's not unusual for him to be preoccupied. "I'll have Mary meet you in the morning, so you can purchase a dress for the ball." my mother announces. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "A ball?"

My mother's smile is anything but warm. "Yes, the annual Harvest Ball. Surely you haven't forgotten, Elysian." Her eyes bore into mine, daring me to argue. "You will dress appropriately and behave accordingly. Your father and I will not tolerate any more of your rebellious antics."

I mask my frustration with a forced smile, nodding obediently as I pick at the food on my plate. The idea of attending a ball in the midst of all these revelations about Zephyr feels like a cruel joke. How could I possibly pretend that everything is normal when my world has been turned upside down by the secrets hidden within the mountain?

As dinner drags on, filled with idle chatter and my mother's pointed remarks, I find myself counting down the seconds until I can escape to my chambers once more. The weight of the book hidden in my closet feels like a heavy secret pressing against my chest, demanding to be explored further.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the morning comes quickly, far quicker than I want. The only delight of this morning is me giving Mary the slip as I sneak into a dress shop on my own. I giggle quietly to myself, feeling clever.

I race over to the first dress I set my eyes on, a stunning black evening gown with a striking mermaid silhouette. The dress features a strapless, sweetheart neckline bodice that is intricately adorned with delicate black lace and embroidered red roses, extends down to the hips, where it gracefully transitions into a voluminous skirt.

The skirt is the true showstopper of the gown, crafted from a luxurious black fabric and embellished with large, lifelike roses add a touch of romance and femininity.

I can’t possibly find a better dress.

My eyes all but turn into hearts. I wave the staff down, and immediately try on the dress.

As the dress hugs my curves perfectly, I can't help but twirl around in front of the mirror, the skirt swirling around me like a dark cloud. The black lace and red roses make me feel powerful and alluring, a stark contrast to the demure gowns my mother always picks out for me. This is the kind of dress that demands attention, that commands the room.

A mischievous smile plays on my lips as I decide then and there that this is the dress I will wear to the Harvest Ball. No more playing by my mother's rules, no more blending into the background. Tonight, I will stand out, a rose among wilted flowers.

Excitement bubbles in my chest as I quickly pay for the dress and make my way back to the palace. Mary finding me along the way, lightly scolding me for running off.

As soon as I'm safely in my chambers, I carefully hide the gown in the back of my closet, ready to don it later when everyone else is distracted by the festivities.

Until then, I snatch the book out from its hiding place. plopping down in my closet to read it, the book glows to life, growing warmer in my hands. I smile, “ What shall we learn today?”

I open the book, instantly greeted with pages full of context on Zephyr. How long he’s lived, the destruction he waged against countless kingdoms and villages. “ So, most certainly not a protector of all kingdoms, huh”. Honestly, how scary. Such a beast of destruction is only a mountain away from home.

I flip the page, “ His mother and Father, King Luther and Queen Abrella of MothThorn” I pause, eyes narrowing. “ MothThorn? how long ago was this? mother said our family has always ruled this kingdom”.

I desperately read more, growing more confused by each word.

"My lady, it's time to prepare for the ball," Mary's voice startles me as I quickly shut my book and tuck it away. "I'll be there in a moment!" I call out. My thoughts are in disarray and my feet stumble as I try to process everything. If Zephyr, the dragon, is from this kingdom and his parents were the rulers, then why are my parents the ones on the throne? Why is he not ruling his own kingdom?

"Hurry, my lady. Time is running short," Mary urges in her usual impatient tone. I grumble as I stomp out of the closet with my dress in hand. I forcefully pull the door open. "Help me put on this dress and then go. Don't dare tell my mother what I am wearing." I twirl around before she has a chance to voice her objections.

So help me Mary, if you utter a word to my mother I will offer you as a snack to the dragon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guards escort me to the ball room, where crowds of people have already gathered. I peer down at them from atop the stairs, noticing how the music stops when they notice my presence. Peoples heads turning, women gasping.

I’m sure mother is chapped about my dress. probably will storm up, demanding I change.

I slowly walk down the stairs, my dress trailing elegantly behind me. I offer a polite smile, “ evening, ladies and gentlemen. I hope the ball is to your liking?” my voice, soaked in fake sweetness makes my insides churn. I am dodging this ball the first moment I get.

they bow to me, returning my smile with ones of their own. “ it’s wonderful, my lady”

my eyes drift across the room, spotting my mother tossing snakes at me with her glare. I can almost taste the distain from here.

I excuse myself, walking towards my mother. oh i’m too sober for this. and by some grace of the gods, a waiter passes by with a tray of glasses, filled with bourbon. “ excuse me”

I snatch one off the tray, tossing it back before grabbing another. “ thank you”.

"So, this is how you choose to behave at a royal ball, Elysian?" My mother's voice cuts through the air sharply, her disapproval evident in every syllable. I simply smile sweetly, the alcohol warming my insides and emboldening me. "Just enjoying the festivities, mother," I reply casually, taking another sip of bourbon. "I thought it might make things more bearable." Her eyes narrow, but before she can respond, a commotion erupts on the other side of the room.

The event had barely begun, but two drunken men were already brawling. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their predictable behavior. As the palace guards dragged them away, I took advantage of the distraction to slip away from my mother's watchful eye. I thanked the men silently for providing me with an opportunity to escape her constant scrutiny.

.

A deep voice startles me from behind "My lady, you look stunning tonight." I turn around, trying to compose myself before facing Jared, the man who is determined to make me his wife. “Hello, Jared,” I say coldly, not hiding my lack of warmth towards him.

Honestly, who could blame me? this guy is obnoxious and a peeping tom.

Refusing to linger for his foolishness, I pivot on my heel and stride away. Snatching up another glass of bourbon, I slip out into the lush garden, already feeling a slight buzz from my earlier indulgences. The air is thick with the scent of roses, their vibrant red petals beckoning me forward. As I pass by, my fingers graze their delicate blooms, only to be pricked by their sharp thorns in protest. My gaze lifts upwards to the sky, marveling at the dark canvas strewn with billowing clouds that seem almost within reach. My longing intensifies as I imagine running my hands through their softness, if only it were possible

I take another sip, the first real smile of the day is when i’m looking up at the sky.

“ What’s a pretty Devil like yourself doing out here alone?”. The voice was rough and deep, sending a shiver down my spine. I turn to face the source, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit part of the garden. There stood a stranger, cloaked in shadows. “Who are you calling a Devil?” I snapped back, my glare piercing through the darkness. The nerve of men, the audacity to speak whatever nonsense crosses their tiny minds.

As he stepped into the light, my breath caught in my throat. His hair was as dark as the night sky above us, contrasting sharply with his intense golden eyes that seemed to hold your soul captive. His towering figure was sculpted and powerful, straining against the confines of his black and red tuxedo. It was as if he were a lion trapped in sheep's clothing.

The air around us crackled with tension, our gazes locked in an unspoken challenge.

“you”. oh my god, my heart. I haven’t had that much to drink, right?

He smirked, a devilish gleam in his eyes as he closed the distance between us. His presence was intoxicating, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, and my cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and desire. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he remarked, his voice like smooth velvet against my skin. I fought to compose myself, refusing to let this stranger unravel me with just a few words.

"And you're quite bold for approaching a lady uninvited," I retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation. But deep down, an unfamiliar thrill coursed through me at the dangerous edge he exuded.

His laughter rang out in the quiet garden, sending a flock of birds into the night sky. "Forgive me, my lady. But when I saw you standing here, bathed in moonlight with fire in your eyes, I couldn't resist." His

I huff, backing away to earn myself some space. every alarm in my head going off but for different things.

“ can’t blame a lady for enjoying the night”. really? is that the best I can offer? get a grip Elysian.

“ Who are you? guests are not allowed in the garden unless personally requested”. I fight myself to speak confidently.

He steps closer, just barely. His eyes locking with mine, the gold rings in his eyes shine brighter than anything else i’ve ever seen.

“ you did request me, princess”. if possible, his voice grew deeper. sending a chill down my spine.

“ I did no such thing. i’ve never requested anyones presence before, so why would I start now?” I bite back. and for some reason, my eyes drift over to the mountain, noticing the lack of lightning surrounding it. that’s strange, i’ve never seen it so calm before.

He gave me a sly grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I am Zephyr, my lady. And I assure you, I have a special invitation tonight." My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Zephyr, the very same dragon prince who had disrupted my world with his mere presence. My mind raced with questions, but I knew better than to trust him so easily. It can't really be him, right? Why show up now.

"Zephyr," I repeated slowly, testing the name on my tongue. The golden rings in his eyes fade to a darker color when I say it. "What brings you here, uninvited?" His gaze softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his golden eyes. "Curiosity led me here, Elysian. I wished to see the woman who dares to defy convention and stand out among the sheep." His words sent a thrill down my spine, and I fought to keep my composure.

"Well, you've seen her. Now leave before you cause more trouble," I replied sharply.

I almost regret my words, a part of me not wanting him to leave.

“ why come out now? does anyone else know you’re here? The red eyes from the mountain- that was you?” question after question leaves my lips before I can stop it. Nervously, my fingers come up to pick at my dress. Way to make a spectacle of yourself.

Zephyr's grin widened at my barrage of questions, clearly amused by my sudden curiosity. "Yes, that was me," he confirmed, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "And to answer your other inquiries, no one else knows I'm here. I have a way of moving in the shadows, undetected by prying eyes." His eyes sparkled with mischief.

I should be terrified, but instead, I found myself drawn to the danger he represented. His presence was electrifying, sending a thrill through me that I hadn't experienced before.

"Why reveal yourself now?" I pressed, my voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to break the spell we were both under.

Zephyr's expression shifted, his gaze intense as he studied me for a moment before answering. "Because someone is trying to take what belongs to me”.

the kingdom? his kingdom? is he finally coming to destroy us?. I furrow my brows as my mind races for answer. “ the kingdom?” I finally ask, ripping the proverbial bandaid off.

His eyes scan the garden and castle before landing back on me. A chill runs down my spine as a gust of wind hits.

“ No, though it is mine. I’m talking about something-someone else”.

[mayflysdie]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood Masterlist

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

NAVIGATION PAGE Lore and world building masterlist CRCB Barracks Sims 4 Build Masterlist Support me on Patreon for more bonus content

Divider by: samspenandsword

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction Chapter 2 - Adjustments Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer * Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost Chapter 9 - Save Me Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins* Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together* Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie* Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes * Chapter 17: Alone Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

[mayflysdie]

Waking Lions 15

Find the series masterlist

You and John finally start talking. Progress is made in planning.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, Price needs his own warning label, brief panic, mention of past trauma, Ace has zero healthy coping mechanisms and it shows.

Word count: 1.7k

You woke slowly, disoriented and warm and confused. This did not feel like your bed at your safehouse. Were you still at your safehouse? When had you crashed?

A soft snore from within the room reminded you.

Right. Captain. And Kate. They had conspired against you.

You breathed for a few moments before you very carefully got up. You were still fully dressed, your shoes set neatly next to Captain’s boots. It was oddly… domestic. You ignored the twinge in your heart with determination and snuck across the room, careful not to disturb Captain sleeping on the couch. 

You had your shoes in one hand and were reaching for the door when a droll voice asked, “Going somewhere, love?” 

“You were asleep.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn to look at him. 

“And now I’m awake.” His voice was rough in the morning, something you tried valiantly to deny you found attractive. 

You huffed and finally turned to look at him. He was sitting up on the couch, blue eyes focused entirely on you. Having the weight of that stare on you was… daunting. 

“Were you gonna run again?” His voice was curious, lacking judgment. 

You blew out a slow breath, debating how honest to be with him. But, well… He’d supported you all the way in here. He’d taken the couch and given you the bed. And… Well. 

You remembered the tension yesterday. How close he’d been. 

“Not sure,” you answered honestly. “Wasn’t really planning, just… going.” 

He huffed, a soft sound of amusement. “Not even breakfast first?” 

That startled a little laugh out of you, and your shoulders relaxed. Your shoes dropped to the floor again with a quiet thump. “You offering?” 

His lips twitched with amusement. “I am.” He held still, merely watching as you slowly approached the couch. 

“Part of your nefarious plot, I’m sure,” you teased, stopping out of arms reach. 

“Nefarious, hm?” He tipped his head. 

“Oh yes. Very nefarious.” Your teeth flashed in a grin. “After all, you’re in cahoots with Kate, and she’s the most ruthless person I know.” 

He chuckled, low and rumbling. “You’ve got a point there,” he agreed, shifting to set his feet on the floor, gaze still locked on you. “Feeling better today, I see.”

“Yes, well.” Your gaze slid away from him. “Knocking out for however many hours certainly helped.”

“Nearly ten.” He stood with a little grunt, stretching his arms up over his head. Your gaze darted down to the sliver of tummy that stretch exposed, noting the dusting of hair, and quickly looked away again. “I wasn’t joking about breakfast.”

“You fuss over your boys like this?” You joked, turning away to protect yourself. The sight of Captain still sleep-tousled was very dangerous. 

“The boys don’t try to vanish on me,” Captain replied dryly. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you protested. “I was going to give you my new number once I had it all worked out.” 

“So you did have a plan.” Captain stepped past you to get to his duffel bag, bending to get a change of clothes. You tried not to look. 

“Of course I had a plan. I’ve had a shit hits the fan plan since I got into this line of work.” You rolled your eyes. 

He huffed softly but didn’t offer anything else, just taking his clothes and going into the bathroom. You swallowed once the door was closed between the two of you. 

You’d always known he was attractive, since that very first meeting, but now it was becoming problematic. 

Alright, no. It was problematic. There was no “becoming” anymore. You had a soft spot for the man, you enjoyed the teasing, you couldn’t keep your gaze off him. 

And you had no idea what to do about it. 

Groaning very softly, you scrubbed a hand over your face. There was too much up in the air right now to be even considering doing anything about your attraction to him. 

Besides, it might not be a concern for long. There was still a chance that Gray would find you and kill you. 

That sobered you quickly, and you sat down on the couch to pull out your laptop. Time to check on a few things. 

Most of your accounts had been successfully closed already. Your bank accounts were in the process of transferring funds. 

And there was one new email in the single account you’d left running from work. Just one. You didn’t recognize the sender, but that wasn’t unusual in your line of work. People used burner emails all the time. 

So you opened the email. 

I know you’re still alive. Hide all you want. I will find you one day.

Your world fuzzed around the edges, everything going numb. 

“What happened?” Captain strode over to you quickly, searching your expression.

“Nothing.” You closed your laptop, heart pounding. 

“Ace–” he started, low and… concerned? His phone interrupted him, though, and he sighed once, short and sharp, before he answered it. You ignored him, focused on putting your laptop back away and trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

Gray had found you. Or at least, he’d found enough about you to find one of your emails. And possibly the identity associated with it. 

Which made you more glad than ever that you’d decided to close everything down. That would slow him down, at least. 

And nobody knew where you were. Nobody except Kate. 

Oh, Kate. Panic spiked again, sudden enough it nearly left you breathless. Sure, Kate was competent, and she was better protected, but she was also easier to find. 

And Gray would not stop if he decided he wanted revenge on her too. 

“We’re heading out.”

You jumped, the sudden words from Captain jerking you rudely from your own thoughts. His brow furrowed as he looked at you, concern clear in those blue eyes, but he didn’t ask this time. 

You were silent as you put your shoes on, briefly lamenting the fact that you didn’t have a spare set of clothes to change into. Well. You’d get something later, this was alright for now. 

“Where are we going?” You kept your bag over your shoulder, nodding once to Garrick as he joined the two of you in the hallway. 

“Laswell,” Captain answered, taking the lead. Garrick stayed behind you, limiting your potential chances to slip away. Not that you could really blame them, considering you had slipped away before. “Said she has some new intel.” 

You nodded slowly, mind whirring back into gear. 

If Gray was working with the Russians, or AQ, he could potentially have access to lots of resources. Hell, he was a smart guy with lots of underworld connections, he technically didn’t need either group to get into shit. 

But this did give him access to bigger shit. 

The safest bet would be to take him off the playing board entirely. Which was harder than it sounded. Someone would need to get to him first. And the law wouldn’t deal with him correctly, you had no faith after last time. 

The more permanent solution would be the better one, this time. 

“Alright, love?” 

You blinked at Captain as he held the back door for you, head dipped to catch your gaze. You nodded automatically, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

“Fine,” you muttered, breathing out slowly. “Just. Been a lot.” 

As expected, he nodded with sympathy. “We’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe with us.” 

You managed a little smile, touching his hand briefly before you got into the car. 

Yes, you were safe with them, these men. 

And perhaps that was a problem. 

You were silent as Garrick drove again, the two of them exchanging the occasional remark, too quiet for you to make out. Which was fine. 

You were busy planning. Because you clearly needed more plans and back up plans. 

This time, they didn’t take you to a restaurant, but to an office building. You raised one eyebrow at Captain, but he simply nodded to the door. 

So you followed Garrick in. 

Kate was in a conference room on the top floor, a tablet in hand and a map on the table in front of her. You eyed it curiously, noting the few marks already - one in Mexico, a few in Russia, a few elsewhere. 

Hmm. If that’s what you all were facing, it was bigger than you’d thought. She must have been getting information from other sources, too. Which made sense. 

“These are the hotspots we know about,” Kate said, nodding to the map. “Between the Russians and AQ.” 

Price braced one hand on the table, leaning over the map. “What’s the play here?” 

“I’ve got more information coming in the next day or two,” Kate said, her gaze flicking briefly to you. “Once we know more, I’ll reach out to some old friends for help.” 

“Hit multiple places?” Garrick guessed, standing next to Kate. 

“Hit them all.” 

“Bold.” But Captain didn’t sound disapproving. Far from it. 

You looked down at the map, frowning a little. That was definitely more than you were aware of, which wasn’t entirely surprising. You’d been focusing more on Russia than anything. This is why Kate had multiple people on intel, not just you. 

“Ace.” Kate spoke softly, clearly trying not to spook you, and you shifted your focus to her. “Think you can still get in contact with some of your people?” 

You made a face, wiggling one hand. “Depends on who and for what,” you said honestly. “There are some I know I can get hold of. What do you want me to find out?” 

“I need to know more about the Mexican involvement.” She tapped the map gently over the red mark. “Who’s involved and how involved they are.” 

You didn’t react visibly, because you had long practice at holding a poker face. Internally, though, you groaned. Because that? That was Valeria. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you said instead, shrugging. You’d never given Kate the names of any of your informants, and you had no reason to believe she knew you’d been involved with Valeria. 

Of course, this could also give you a chance to find out more about Gray, too. If Valeria was involved. You could trade for any information she had on him. 

That would be worth it. And if you did it right? Nobody in this room would be any the wiser.

[mayflysdie]

Waking Lions

Eventual John Price x f!reader

You’ve been working as an independent intelligence agent for a long time. You like your life - you choose your own hours, you have your own clients, and you get to go wherever you want, whenever you want. Very little pins you down. You never expected this to change, least of all because of one man. 

Chapter one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen | seventeen | eighteen | nineteen | twenty | twenty one | twenty two | twenty three | twenty four | twenty five

NOW COMPLETE

[mayflysdie]

Puppy Love 2

Find my CoD masterlist

We continue with this adorable mess. Nobody can resist the puppies. Price has a soft side.

Warnings: Cuteness overload. 

Word count: 1.3k

Eventual John Price x f!reader

Two weeks later, Gaz once again made his way to Price’s office. 

This time, Price saw the keys and huffed. “Puppies again?" 

"Yup. Four weeks old now, their eyes are open.” Gaz couldn’t contain his grin if he wanted to. Fortunately he didn’t want to. 

Price chuffed. “Alright, let’s go,” he agreed, getting to his feet. 

Keep reading

[mayflysdie]

Sorry for the rant and probs gonna get hate cuz ik this fandom but i had to say this

-This goes to all fandoms, not just Call of Duty-

You are responsible for the content you consume. Don’t like, Don’t read.

i’ve seen a few posts about this but

if you cannot spell or speak about rape, pedophilia or any dark or sensitive topics then maybe don’t talk about it, because purposely misspelling it proves you are not mature enough to talk about it or handle the topic, this isn’t tik tok you don’t have to sugarcoat anything. Yes i am aware these are sensitive (and horrible) subjects and can be triggering but no one is forcing you to read or talk about it.

Me, and a lot of authors, put the content warnings at the top of the fic because that’s the first thing people will see and it is your responsibility to read those warnings if you wish to read a fic, not ours. This goes with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (DDDNE), a warning or tag used to indicate that a fanwork contains tropes or elements that may be deemed morally reprehensible without explicitly condemning the sensitive aspect. It says what it says on the tin and you still read it, that is on you, not us.

Saying an author is glorifying or promoting a topic and saying they need mental or professional help for writing/reblogging rape or abuse or sexual assault because of their or another authors writings is a stretch, people can and are into some messed up things that to some people can be triggering or disturbing and you can be 100% into something fictionally without wanting to explore it physically.

No one if forcing you to read something you do not like

Same with minors in fandoms, this is a common things and there is nothing you can do about it, yes they shouldn’t be viewing or reading certain things in the fandoms but they’ll still find a way no matter how hard to try and stop them.

Say rape, say kill, no one’s gonna to hate you, if you can’t handle dark topics in a fic, block the author it’s not hard, no one will hate you for doing that and harassing and swinging death threats to a creator because they made something you don’t like is a shitty thing to do, if you don’t want to read a certain trope or topic that’s fine, people have preferences, but trying to start a witch hunt and purity culture campaign over it is not ok. I think sometimes they don’t because they want to start hate. Tumblr had a filtering system for blocking tags and yes people find a way to get around that, just block those tags too.

Fandoms are safe spaces for people who like a certain content, yes there are bad people in fandom and areas in a fandom that are filled with disgusting people, but it is a online safe space for people to enjoy the content they like. Fandoms are not for you to try and purify because you can’t be mature enough to block an author for posting content you don’t like.

[mayflysdie]

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST

——————————————————————————

CoD HOLIDAY MASTERLIST

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

Forbidden Fruit Series- A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity. A modern (not creepy) retelling inspired by Persephone and Hades. 18+

Smoked- Simon blows smoke into your mouth.

To Dull the Shovels & Smoke- In which Simon Riley doesn’t hear the gunshots and yells when he’s around his next door neighbor.

In Death’s Hands- You survived that car crash. Despite all the doctors saying you should have been crushed like a soda can. It shouldn’t have been possible, but you had a strange suspicion it had something to do with the cloaked figure that followed you everywhere.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

An Oath of Rose Briar- It was always nightfall when he’d sneak into your chambers, yearning for love that tears apart at the seams. You didn’t know forbidden love could taste so divinely sweet. 18+

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

None for now

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

You’re Golden Sunshine, it’s Shadows when you’re Gone- In which you meet Kyle Garrick again after years of not seeing each other. In a gravitational pull, you find your long forgotten adoration resurfacing again.

Out of Element- Gaz didn’t notice the loose Polaroid of the two of you that fell from his vest, focusing instead on not being shot. He didn’t think anything of it, until his whole world came crashing down.

KÖNIG

Blunt Salvation Series- You’ve just received a promotion, now the lead psychologist specializing in monster behaviors and physiology. Your employer, Specgru, was a notorious monster hunting faction. They’ve just caught the most notorious monster of all— and he just so happens to be your newly assigned patient. 18+

Your Grace- As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told. A King AU. 18+ Her Majesty- Part Two to Your Grace. 18+

KEEGAN P. RUSS

Sweet Elixir- A Vampire!Keegan oneshot. 18+

[mayflysdie]

I'm genuinely tweaking rn, I've read all the fics and I don't know what to read now 😭

all of my fics ?? lol wow i appreciate that sm <3

i’ll use this as a chance to recommend some absolutely lovely people and talented writers who deserve endless luv and support !!!

@alwaysshallow @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @bunnyreaper @bleuu-moon @charliemwrites @cowyolks @chamomiletealeaf @ceilidho @cordeliawhohung @dante-mightdie @deadbranch @eilidh-eternal @fawnchives @frogchiro @glossysoap @groguspicklejar @ghouljams @greatstormcat @ghostlywhiskey @glitterypirateduck @hecateslore @ivymarquis @iciclesses @konigsblog @luminousbeings-crudematter @luvit @lxvvie @ltbunny @l0v3tast3 @lovelyghst @moondirti @moongreenlight @meowpupp @mangowafflesss @naivegh0ul @ohcaptains @ohbo-ohno @peachesofteal @rowarn @stormiwaves @sky-is-the-limit @starry-eyedblog @stargirlrchive @shotmrmiller @shadowlali @tacticalanklebiter3000 @tojisun @yawnderu @yeyinde @391780

(please heed any tags or warnings on each blog and/or work and be kind and respectful)

[mayflysdie]

inspired by boop day, reblog this post if its ok for people to send you random asks and interact on your posts with no judgement. i want to talk to people.