a series of (separate) fictional stories including true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. these stories take place in the heian era—an era where the king of curses ruled the jujutsu society in terms of power & strength—and focuses mainly on his harem. ྅

note. there are general warnings that are implemented in each piece down below ; size difference, being the main one. for more specific warnings please read the tags on each work.

requests are open, check the req rules on the author’s blog.

status. ongoing, until said otherwise by the author.

C O L D ! R E A D E R M A S T E R L I S T !

CAPSULE SERIES. /kæpsjuːl ˈs̠ɛrieːs̠/

A series of stories or documents that can be read in conjunction with each other or as stand alone articles.

[ pair. ] spencer reid x fem!cold!reader

[ fics. ] fifty six

[ key. ] 🌨️/angst ❄️/fluff 🧊/hurt*comfort

main masterlist. | plot-forward fics are in blue.

- dreaming 'bout you 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

01; BEST FRIEND MARK .ᐟ

01.1; he's down bad

01.2; the members know

01.3; maybe you're also down bad

02; BEST FRIEND RENJUN .ᐟ

02.1; he's down bad

02.2; the members know

03; BEST FRIEND JENO .ᐟ

03.1; he's down bad

03.2; the members know

04; BEST FRIEND HAECHAN .ᐟ

04.1; he's down bad

04.2; the members know

04.3; maybe you're also down bad

04.4; you're both down bad

05; BEST FRIEND JAEMIN .ᐟ

05.1; he's down bad

05.2; the members know

06; BEST FRIEND CHENLE .ᐟ

06.1; he's down bad

06.2; the members know

06.3; maybe you're also down bad

07; BEST FRIEND JISUNG .ᐟ

07.1; he's down bad

07.2; the members know

07.3; maybe you're also down bad

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader. pictures are not indicative of readers appearance. Reader has not got any racial features mentioned & we never see Emily’s dad so I have tried to make my fic as inclusive to all my fem!readers as possible! Please let me know if this is not the case <3

ACT I

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | the ONE time the BAU need you + the FOUR times you need them

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | the FIVE times Spencer thinks he likes you + the ONE time he knows

BONUS: YOU’RE ALL I EVER WANTED | the time you realise you like Spencer

THERE’S NO SIGN OF LIFE | the one where you grieve Emily together + the one where you kiss him

THE KID SWINGS BACK | the THREE times things feel weird between Spencer and you because you’re just best friends.

WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF? | the THREE times you can’t have him no matter how much you want him

then strangers again | small drabble about what happened after

ACT II

SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | the one where you help Spencer grieve another woman + the one with the promise

LET IT ONCE BE ME | the THREE times you wait for him + the ONE time you don't have to

I MIGHT JUST BE IN LA LA LA LA LA LOVE | the FIVE times you hide your relationship from the team + the ONE time you tell everyone

YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE | the TWO big steps you take

LITTLE OLD ME | the one with cat adams and the one where she tells him

MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | the nine months of being pregnant

ACT III [FILE LOADING]

At first, you tried to stay focused on your book, determined not to let his antics get to you. But every time Sukuna yelled or caused a scene, you couldn’t help but flinch. It wasn’t something you could control; it just happened, like a reflex. You thought Sukuna wouldn’t notice, that he was too wrapped up in his own world to pay attention to someone like you. But you were wrong.

One day, after yet another loud outburst, you caught Sukuna glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His expression shifted, the usual mischievous grin faltering for just a second. He didn’t say anything, but the next day, his voice was noticeably quieter. The shouting wasn’t as frequent, the chaos a little less intense.

You were surprised but didn’t dare ask why. Instead, you continued to lose yourself in your books, grateful for the unexpected peace. But then, something even stranger happened. Sukuna leaned over one afternoon, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

“What’s that book about?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the cover in your hands.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. No one had ever asked you about your books before, especially not Sukuna. After a moment, you mumbled a brief summary, expecting him to get bored and move on. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded, a look of genuine interest crossing his face.

From then on, it became a regular thing. Sukuna would ask about whatever book you were reading, and you would tell him, slowly getting used to his presence beside you. The flinches that had once been your automatic response to his loudness began to fade, replaced by something warmer, something that felt a lot like friendship.

As the days passed, Sukuna’s protective side started to emerge. He would glare at anyone who tried to tease you or even come too close. It was as if he had decided that, out of all the things in the world, you were the one thing worth protecting. You didn’t fully understand why, but you didn’t mind it either. There was something comforting about having Sukuna by your side, even if he was still the most notorious troublemaker in school.

Then, one day, Sukuna took things a step further. During recess, he found some glue—where he got it, you had no idea—and without warning, he grabbed your hand and pressed it against his own, spreading the sticky substance between your palms.

“Now we can hold hands and be together forever,” he announced with a grin, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as the glue began to dry, binding your hands together. For a moment, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The idea of being stuck to Sukuna, literally, for the rest of the day—or longer—was both ridiculous and strangely sweet.

The teacher wasn’t too happy when she found out, and neither were your parents when they had to deal with the aftermath of trying to unstick you two. But even as the adults scolded Sukuna for his impulsive behavior, you couldn’t help but smile a little. The memory of Sukuna’s determined expression as he declared that you should be together forever stayed with you, and somehow, you knew that no matter how much trouble he got into, Sukuna would always be by your side.

15 years later

"Sukuna, do you remember when you glued our hands together?" You laughed loudly at the memory, the sound echoing in the room.

imagine you and satoru had gotten into an argument. it's already been at least two hours since it—satoru has seemed to move on, but you're still mad and sensitive.

both of you are in bed by now. satoru watches some reality show on the tv while you mindlessly scrolled through tiktok with your back facing him. satoru sighs, then the tv is shut off. he turns to you and attempts to speak to you.

"goodnight, sweets," he chirps, sounding as positive as he could, hoping it would show that he's moved on and that he's okay with you. "i love you."

you don't respond, not because you didn't love him, but you still weren't in the mood to speak. he knew you loved him though, right?

"i love you," he repeats louder, waiting for you to return those three words. again, no response.

he puts his hand around your waist to steady himself as he tries to take a peek at your face with a smile. "hello? i love—"

"i love you! can you stop?!" you snap, shrugging him off you and furrowing your brows at him. although you finally said it, satoru looks anything but relieved and satisfied. the grin he wore to try and make things better faded, his face falling and his eyes softening.

you turned away from him once again and he followed suit, pulling the covers up to his cheeks. he mutters, although a little muffled, "not right now you don't."

it's quiet after. the way you snapped at him and the way his expression morphed into one of hurt and his comment made you feel extremely guilty. were you being petty and holding the argument over his head? you don't even remember what you had argued about.

you quit basking in your guilt and sigh, shutting off your phone and turning over to him. you think he's asleep, but his breathing hasn't evened out. propping yourself up on one arm, you peer over at his face. your hand is on his bicep, gently rubbing up and down. he pretends to be asleep, but you know he can hear you.

"i'm sorry, 'toru. that was really mean of me. i love you so much. we can talk tomorrow, 'kay?" you whisper, placing a lingering kiss to his cheek. you give him a few more pecks as well as another apology before laying down and wrapping your arm around his waist.

you kiss his shoulder blade as you spoon him, then feel his hand run over the one on his stomach. he turns over to face you, making sure your arm never leaves its place on him. you both stare at each other for a minute, apologies being exchanged in the silence and through your eyes. satoru kisses your forehead and you lean into him a little more. he leaves one last kiss on your lips and holds you a little tighter.

Softer Side

Pairing: Mattheo Ridde x Ravenclaw y/n

Warning: Fluff

When others asked, you told them you weren’t sure when it happened. You weren’t sure when you stopped thinking Mattheo was just an ignorant prick and instead started defending him when others brought up his name in conversation. But you knew exactly when it happened, and you wanted to keep it to yourself. You liked being one of the only ones to see the soft side of Mattheo.

You’d seen him straighten up the Slytherin table after the rest of his friends left for class, stacking plates and straightening goblets when he thought no one else was paying attention. You saw him help Madam Pince in the library a few times as well. You swore it was a detention until you heard her thanking him for volunteering his time again at the end of the week. However your favorite soft Mattheo moment was the first time you witnessed it. Whether it was his actions in the moment, or your interaction with him afterwards was an internal debate you continued to have with yourself to this day.

!CW! NSFW, Smut, size kink, p in v sex, rough sex, blood, wounds, stitiching, guns (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): König likes to admire his little sheep from afar until he has to confront his feelings. Like a wolf stalking it's prey, it has to pounce at some point.

PLEASE FORGIVE ME IF I BUTCHERED SOME OF THE GERMAN I TRIED SO HARD ;') PLEASE CORRECT ME IF IT'S WRONG.

previous chapter: chapter 3

Playlist

A/N: This is also pretty mission based, like last chapter. However, next chapter will delve more into Ghost and Siren's dynamic! Also if you like playlists, I made one for this fic! It has a bunch of songs that just describe the general vibe but also for backstories and storylines we haven't gotten to yet. I'm planning for this to be a long series!

Also regarding the taglist, apparently I can't tag more than 100 people in a post so I will comment the ones that don't fit!

Siren

30 August 2022

1100, En route to cartel compound, Las Almas

You held onto the handlebar above you as Alejandro floored the newly acquired pickup truck over the rocky terrain on the way to the cartel’s compound. Bumps and unpaved roads made you bounce in your seat, your white knuckled grip being the only thing keeping you somewhat steady.

“We’re about there, be ready,” Alejandro warned. A collection of buildings and fields came into sight, what you could only assume was the compound Hassan was being held in.

“There should be ammo at your feet. Stock up while you have the chance.”

You grabbed a generous amount of ammo, having been dwindled down to 20 rounds of .300 and 39 rounds of 4.6mm in the fight with the Mexican Army.

Just as the truck went off of the road and into the grass, Graves’ voice came through over the comms.

“Ghost, this is Shadow-1, orbiting the compound now. Standing by for visual…”

“Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7,” Ghost replied. “We’ll mark our position with IR laser, over.”

“Roger 0-7.”

The car jolted to a stop and the four of you jumped out, weapons at the ready. 

“How do we find Hassan?” Soap asked.

“He’ll have an armed guard. Cartel protection,” Alejandro answered.

“Lotta places to hide…” you muttered as you walked past a couple haybales stacked on top of one another.

“Graves covers with close air. We clear the buildings,” Ghost ordered as you all got into cover. You and Soap crouched behind a wooden crate wile Alejandro and Ghost were behind another pickup truck.

“Copy that, Lt.,” Soap replied.

“Mark us,” Ghost told Soap before hailing Graves. “Shadow-1, we’re east of the compound. Position is marked.”

Soap took out a laser and waved it around in a circle upwards.

“Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7. We’re marking with IR laser. Do you have a visual, over?”

“0-7, copy your mark.”

“Shadow-1, be advised, Hassan is moving with an armed guard. You cover external, we’ll clear the buildings. How copy?”

“0-7, good copy. Armed guard. We’ll secure the area so you can move in. Stand by.”

“Roger that,” your Lieutenant said, glancing around the truck at the surroundings. You peaked your head up as well, seeing what looked to be a greenhouse, a stable, a couple of sheds, and a large building in the back.

Not even a minute later, all of you zeroed in on a truck coming out of one of the buildings.

“Shadow-1, there’s a truck leaving the stables, moving west.”

“Copy.”

“We won’t be able to keep Hassan,” you commented while you awaited direction from Graves.

“Probably not,” Ghost replied. “But we need him more for interrogation about the missiles than we did when we had execute authority.”

“Slippery bastard,” Soap muttered.

You nodded in agreement and continued to look for any movement.

“The greenhouse,” Alejandro said, drawing your gaze to the clear building. You could see armed guards alongside civillians but other than that, you had no way to see who was inside.

“Shadow-1, we’ve got targets at the greenhouse to our northwest. Roping now.” As Ghost finished speaking, Soap pointed the laser at the greenhouse ahead.

“0-7, no visual on target. What’s the call?”

“That army convoy’s gaining ground,” Alejandro cautioned.

“We go in guns blazin’,” Soap began, “hope he squirts, lock him up from there.”

While you may have wanted to utilize stealth on such a big compound, you just didn’t have that kind of time to spend.

“Graves,” Ghost said, “you’re cleared hot to engage exernal. We’ll clear the buildings when secure.”

“0-7, copy that. Keep your heads down.”

The four of you sat behind cover as the sun beat down onto your sweat-slicked skin while you waited for Graves to clear the area around the greenhouse.

One moment all was still and in the next bullets rained down like the anguished tears of a vengeful deity, eviscerating anything that laid in their way.

“Wow,” you whispered. The bodies didn’t even seem real; they flew around like ragdolls, like they weighed nothing at all.

Before you could think on it anymore, bullets started coming your way. You pulled out your rifle and began to take aim at those firing at you. You managed to take out a few and you’re sure the boys did too, but air support did most of the work, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

“0-7, all visible targets are down. Over.” 

At that, Ghost waved to move up, with him and Alejandro taking cover behind yet another truck and you and Soap on the side of a shed.

“Shadow-1, copy that,” Ghost told Graves. “We’ll be clearing the stables building first. Roping now.”

Soap marked the building with the laser for Graves and his crew. It was a stable, having multiple entrances and exits. 

“0-7, copy your mark. You’re clear to proceed.”

“Shadow-1, we’re moving now. If the target squirts, let us know.”

“Shadow-1 copies.”

You followed behind Ghost as he brought you close to the building. 

“Soap, freeze down the right side. Siren, Alejandro, on me.”

“Aye,” Soap confirmed.

Alejandro and Ghost stood on either side of the door while you took a place on Ghost’s other side.

“Breaching,” Ghost said quietly as he pushed open the door.

“¡Bajarse, bajarse!” Alejandro yelled as you entered. You saw multiple people drop the supplies they were using to clean the empty stalls and run out of the building while a handful picked up rifles and began to fire at you three with wild abandon.

You shot a few with your VEL-46, avoiding any potential civilians but a few of the cartel members remained. A woman screamed from behind one of the stalls, clutching her child to her chest. You maneuvered yourself so you could talk to her but still be in cover.

“Vamos,” you told her urgently pointing to the door. She cried out, holding her child tighter and rushed away from the four of you. Hopefully the child was young enough to forget this, to forget the death that followed in your wake.

You held the button to speak into the comms. “Graves, check fire. Woman and child exiting left side.”

“Siren, solid copy.”

You fired round after round, trying to take down as many as possible. 

“You got a visual?” Ghost yelled to no one in particular.

“Negative!” You replied, ducking into cover to reload.

“Graves, negative on Hassan! It’s a dry hole!” Ghost told him.

“Ghost, copy that. I need you out of the building. Move north right now.”

“Copy, Moving!”

You ran from the stables and took cover behind a large rock, not wishing to be caught in the crossfire.

“Graves, we’re clear!” Ghost yelled out. “Drop that fuckin’ building now!”

Within seconds, before your very eyes, the building you were just in was destroyed. Chunks of wood flew in every direction and small, contained fires erupted where haybales once stood.

“Shadow-1, good shots,” Alejandro told Graves. “We’re pushing west to the greenhouse.”

The four of you moved forward, making sure to check for any remaining hostiles in your path. 

“All stations, there’s armed personnel in the greenhouse.”

Before any of you could respond, someone took notice of the four of you creeping towards the building.

“Contact!” you yelled, taking cover behind a small shed. 

The gunship aided in taking down some of your attackers, but Soap yelled into the comms before any bullets could stray into the greenhouse.

“Check fire! Hassan could be inside!”

A few seconds passed. You assumed they did a scan for Hassan and found nothing based on Graves’ next order.

“Ghost, keep your team back, we’re fixin’ to engage the greenhouse.”

“Solid copy!”

Glass erupted from the greenhouse frame as your air support pelted it with bullets

“Shadow-1, good effect on target. We’re moving up,” your Lieutenant told Graves.

“Roger, 0-7.”

You creeped up to the greenhouse, glass crunching underneath your boots. The dying gasps of a cartel member came from the rubble.

“These guys are fucked,” Soap said, looking at the bodies.

“Dust ‘em,” Ghost ordered, nodding his head to the man still struggling to draw a breath. You pulled the trigger, silencing him. A mercy, in your opinion.

“Where is this fucker?” Soap questioned, looking around at how big the cartel’s operation was on this plot of land.

“He has to be in that compound,” Alejandro answered, obviously meaning the giant white building with two main areas connected by a long corridor. It was gated and looked of importance, just by architecture alone.

Ghost led the team to take cover behind a small shack along with sandbags and blue barrels.

Ghost spoke into his radio. “Shadow-1, what’s the ETA on that convoy?”

“0-7, convoy is six klicks out, advise you step it up and secure exfil.”

“I’ll contact Rodolfo,” Alejandro responded.

“Do it,” Ghost told him. “Graves, we’re working on exfil. Be advised, last building we’ll hit is the compound. How copy?”

“0-7, good copy. Hold your position until we clear the area.”

“Roger that.”

Once more, your team became a target, countless guns firing at you, bullets only barely missing at times.

“Shadow-1, troops in contact!” Ghost shouted.

“RPG!” you yelled, spotting a man aiming a rocket launcher towards your cover standing on the water tower. He fired and there was not much you could do to avoid being thrown back as it hit your cover and exploded. Thankfully the adrenaline flowing allowed you to get up quickly and fall back along with the boys to return fire.

“Move left! Now!” Ghost yelled, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the RPG’s next target. You stumbled but regained balance quickly, moving to cover once more.

“Shadow-1, x-rays at the water tower!”

The water tower was hit brutally, the foundation shaking.

“Positive impacts! Hit ‘em again!”

The next few seconds of gunfire caused it to break open, and fall to the ground, surely crushing whoever dared to stand in front of it.

You were taking down one hostile after another, not faltering until you saw Ghost jerk back out of the corner of your eye.

“Ghost is hit!” you yelled, running towards where he laid on his back a few yards away. You felt a surge of panic flare up inside you, its cold icy grip an unfamiliar feeling.

A cartel member approached from the side, gun raised to shoot Soap who was focused on the enemies in front of him.

You quickly drew a knife from your vest as you ran towards your Lieutenant and threw it with deadly accuracy, the knife lodging itself into your target’s neck. You didn’t even care about retrieving the knife as you sprinted to Ghost.

“Fuck me,” you heard Ghost mumbled as you fell to your knees to look him over. Your hands shook slightly, as you raked your eyes over his vest. No blood, thankfully.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, raising your voice to compete with the gunfire going off in the background.

“Yeah, hit my plate. Bastards,” he told you. He looked at the face-down cartel member and then back to you. “Nice throw.”

You stood, intending on getting back into the fight, and held out your hand. He took it and you pulled him up, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go.

As you looked around it appeared that Graves and his team managed to take out the rest of the hostiles, leaving a clear path to the headquarters.

“Ghost, no movement detected. What’s your status?”

“He’ll be alright,” you answered. “Round hit the plate.”

“Affirm,” Ghost said. “Good thing your aim isn’t shit like theirs.”

Graves’ tone turned humorous at the remark. “Roger that, 0-7. Be advised, you’re clear up to the compound, but the gate is blocked at this time.”

“Copy,” Ghost replied. “Give us a way in, yeah?”

“We’ll open the door for you. Stand by…”

“You okay, Lt.?” Soap questioned.

“Yeah, mate. I’m good.”

The gate was swiftly destroyed along with any cartel members in the courtyard.

“Ghost, door’s open. You’re clear to proceed.”

“Copy that. Moving now.”

Ghost motioned to follow him into smoke created by the bullets hitting anything and everything in the immediate area. 

“Ghost, no movement detected.”

“Copy. We’re pushing to the entrance now.”

“Roger, we see you.”

You passed flaming cars, destroyed sheds, and mangled corpses on the way to the front door. It was a sight, that was for certain.

Ghost and you took a place on the left side of the door while Alejandro was on the right; Soap put C4 on the door before also standing on the right.

“Be advised, the convoy is three klicks out. You need to haul ass.”

“Solid copy.”

“Alejandro,” Soap asked, “where’s that exfil?”

“Five minutes out.”

“It’s going to be close,” you cautioned.

“Let’s do this, then,” Ghost said, determination hardening his voice.

“Breaching,” Soap said before detonating the explosive. The door blew off and the four of you swept inside to see a room filled with people surrounding a very familiar face: Hassan.

“Shadow-1! Positive ID on Hassan!”

“He’s moving upstairs!” you added, using your VEL-46 to take out any cartel members you could see. It seemed like taking out one caused another three to take their place.

“Graves, he’s exiting the second floor! North-west side!” After the room was cleared, you followed his path up the stairs and outside, just in time to see him running into the other building.

“He ran inside!” Alejandro yelled. You sprinted across the corridor alongside your team and reached the door to connected building.

Alejandro wasted no time bashing it open, allowing the four of you to funnel in. There were only a few cartel members which were disposed of quickly. Meanwhile, you all shouted to Hassan.

“Get down!” you yelled.

“Get down, now!” Alejandro echoed.

“Who the fuck are you?” Hassan spit out.

Ghost hit him in the face with the butt of his gun while Soap secured his arms.

“Mexican Special Forces,” Alejandro answered. “You’re coming with us.”

“Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7,” Ghost said into his radio. “Jackpot. I say again, jackpot. Target is secure.”

“0-7, solid copy. What’s the status of your exfil?”

“This is Victor 1-1,” Alejandro cut in. “Exfil is two minutes out!”

The exchange of gunfire continued, all of you covering Soap while he held onto Hassan. 

“All stations, be advised—convoy is closing on target area now.”

“Copy that, Shadow-1. Good eye,” Soap said.

“Alejandro, what’s the call?” Ghost asked, peeking out of cover to shoot an approaching hostile.

“They’re with the cartel—free to engage.”

“Shadow, how copy?” Ghost asked.

“Solid.”

Explosions rocked the compound, and smoke rose from the ashes of the destruction. The sound of cars exploding and missiles hitting the ground were unmistakable. Eventually, return fire fizzled into nothing, leaving you with a feeling of unease at the quiet. Such a big area, once filled with life, laid to waste for this one very, very dangerous man.

“All stations, visible targets are down. You’re clear to proceed.”

“Shadow-1, copy that.” Alejandro replied. “Exfil is inbound now.”

Ghost led all of you to the back of the compound, bashing the doors open with his shoulder. You exited just in time to see Rodolfo slide the car to an abrupt stop in front of you.

“I am a Quds Force Major! You have no right-!” Hassan began but was cut off by Soap slamming him against the car.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled.

“You will pay dearly for this!” Hassan said as Soap shoved him into the backseat. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics and hopped into one of the seats in the trunk. Ghost sat on the other side of Hassan while Alejandro conversed with Rodolfo in Spanish.

“We’re good!” Soap said into the radio.

“Go!” Ghost told Rodolfo. “Shadow-1, package secure. We’re RTB.”

—

Ghost

30 August 2022

1145, Olmeda, Las Almas

The drive was relatively silent as Rodolfo sped away from the compound and into Olmeda. It was a successful mission; they got the target and no one was killed.

Ghost’s chest still was a little sore from where the bullet hit his armor plate, but he certainly did not regret seeing Siren’s handiwork while he was on the ground. The knife throw was impressive, one that rivaled his. And the quiet fury in her eyes was something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“Wait, what’s that?” Ghost heard Siren say from the trunk.

Rodolfo slowed down the car once the gas station came into view.

“All stations, what’s the hold-up down there?” Graves asked.

“Shadow-1,” Alejandro replied, “there’s movement at the fuel station ahead. Possible cartel. Roping now.” He pointed an IR laser out of the passenger window.

A beat passed. 

“All stations, no visible threats in the area. You are clear to proceed.”

“Shadow-1, copy that. We’re moving.”

It wasn’t too long before they were stopped once more. A man wheeled a cart into the middle of the road, suspiciously slow.

“Shadow-1, we may have a situation here…” Siren said quietly. Rodolfo yelled out the window to no avail. 

“¡Rodéalo! ¡Rodéalo! Go around!” Alejandro told Rodolfo.

Rodolfo went to swerve around the cart, but hit it instead, temporarily blocking the view of the road.

“On the right-!” Soap shouted before the grating sound of metal colliding with metal filled the air. 

Somewhere in his mind, Ghost knew the car was rolling. But in the present, he only could take in the force of the seatbelt on his chest, the yelps of those around him, and the sound of broken glass.

It’s possible he blacked out because for a second he was in a comfortable limbo, absent of all sensations and then all of the sudden he was upside down, blood rushing towards his head. He scrambled for a knife and cut himself out and looked to see Soap doing the same. Soap grabbed Hassan and crawled out of the smoking vehicle, only to rush around to the side to avoid getting shot.

Ghost followed in suit and was relieved to see Alejandro and Rodolfo already out and returning fire. However, Siren was still in the car.

“Cover me while I get Siren!” Ghost shouted, yanking open the trunk doors to see her coming to, blood coating one side of her face. A sliver of fear struck him for a second at the injury, but he pushed it down. He needed to remain focused, for everyone’s sake.

“What the fuck…” She mumbled. Ghost took out his knife and cut her seatbelt, catching her before she could hit the glass-covered ground.

“Sergeant, you need to wake up,” he told her firmly, shaking her. Her head wound thankfully looked superficial, not too serious. She blinked rapidly and brought a hand up to her temple before wincing. It seemed then that she really saw him now, because her eyes widened a fraction at their surroundings. She removed herself from his grasp and looked towards the chaos outside.

“I’m good, Lieutenant,” she assured him, grabbing her guns that had fallen. “Just a scratch.”

He ducked out of the trunk at that and began to fire back at the approaching cartel members. Siren did the same, killing hostiles one after the other.

“All stations, we’re engaging danger close. Give me a sitrep when able.”

“Shadow-1, we’re up!” Ghost told Graves. “No casualties, Hassan is secure!”

“0-7, copy that. Colonel Vargas, what’s the word?”

“Shadow-1, we’ll hardpoint in the building behind us, over!” Alejandro yelled beginning to back up towards the restaurant.

“Copy that.”

Ghost followed the two Mexican Special Forces agents and his two Sergeants into the restaurant. It was a cozy place; not the kind that should be seeing gunfire and ground warfare.

“Clear!” Rodolfo yelled. They made their way up to the roof for a vantage point, with Ghost and Siren aiming East towards the gas station, Alejandro and Rodolfo covering South where the school was located, and Soap faced the Northwest, Hassan sitting tied up beside him.

Alejandro yelled to Rodolfo and Ghost assumed it was to call for extraction which Rodolfo did promptly.

Ghost focused on the targets in front of him, taking them out with ease. Air support eventually took out the majority of the hostiles at the gas station, leaving only a few more for Ghost and Siren to pick off.

Just when he thought they took them all out, he saw something headed straight towards them.

“RPG!” he yelled. Siren hit the deck and Ghost followed suit.

“Get down!” Soap yelled.

The building shook as it was hit by the explosive, only missing them by a small margin.

“Shadow-1,” Soap called out. “We’re taking RPG fire from the east. Roping now!”

“Copy, engaging.”

It seemed to be endless, the amount of cartel members there were. Ghost was going through clip after clip, and he was sure others were in the same position. He was on autopilot, hitting every cartel member he saw, only focused on eliminating all threats. At least they had air support, he thought. Graves’ team was taking out leagues of members, raining down bullets and missiles alike.

Rodolfo yelled something to Alejandro, which the Colonel then translated. “All stations, extract birds are inbound. Five minutes!”

“Rocket!” Rodolfo yelled. “Get down!” 

Once again, Ghost took cover on the roof, and in the split second they were there, he looked at Siren. She wore an expression of determination, the blood on her face only intensifying it. She shot back up and returned to taking down hostiles with her rifle. The corner of her mouth lifted into a small sadistic smirk when she landed a good shot, making something flare up in his lower stomach.

Focus, he told himself.

More of the cartel crowded the gas station, taking all of his attention. It was a bloodbath, truly.

“Ghost, I’m gettin’ overrun!” Ghost heard Soap yell out. Luckily, air support swooped in just in time, taking out any remaining targets.

“Bravo 0-7, Shadow-1, all visible threats are down.”

“Be advised,” Ghost told everyone. “Resupplies are low. Conserve your ammo.”

He then addressed Soap, wishing to make sure Hassan was at least still alive and hadn’t been killed in any of the crossfire.

“Sergeant Soap, sitrep?”

“Hassan is secure. He’s still a prick.”

An amused huff came from beside him.

“And you’re as mindless as your weapons of war!” Hassan yelled.

“Bravo 7-1, you are cleared hot to shut Hassan the hell up.”

“I get to go next,” Siren said, a glimmer of mischief in her eye. He was pretty sure that if he gave the go ahead, she would gladly make Hassan cease his talking permanently.

Before he could contemplate it further, another projectile was headed towards his team.

“Incoming!” Mortars came at them from the football field, luckily the first few fell short of the restaurants.

“The football field!” Alejandro yelled into the radio. From that point on, chaos was the only word to describe what was going on. Graves took out the mortar team but every ten seconds it seemed an RPG appeared, now some of them aimed at their air support. The gunship used flares to avoid being hit but that meant more enemies Ghost and his team had to handle while their air support was occupied. 

He was getting dangerously low on ammo and based on seeing Siren switch from her Sniper rifle to her SMG, he guessed she was too.

“Alejandro, where’s extraction? We’re burning through rounds, here!”

“One minute out!”

“Three mags left!” Soap called out.

“¡Estoy abajo a dos!” Rodolfo added.

“I’m running low!” Alejandro echoed.

“Fuck, I am too,” Siren said from beside him.

This was not an ideal situation. Simon “Ghost” Riley had been in plenty of downright awful situations, and this wasn’t even in the top ten. However, he was used to working alone, not having to worry about other people’s lives in his hands. But now? He needed to make sure they got out together, as a team.

“Get your knives ready!” Ghost told them.

“I always have my knives ready,” Siren told him, flashing him a sultry smile that he chose to ignore for the time being. More cartel members arrived via helicopter at the school, running towards the restaurant. Siren must have officially run out because she slung her gun on her back and pulled out a knife. She left her position and stood by the door, ready for any intruders.

Maybe it was because of how much was going on and not being able to keep them all away, but within thirty seconds someone did make it up the stairs and flung the door open, only to be grabbed by Siren and stabbed through the heart. Blood poured over her hands, and some drops flew onto her face as she yanked it out.

Ghost had seen people stabbed, had been stabbed before, and knew a good bit about techniques. She wasn’t just blindly shoving a knife into the nearest patch of skin; she was strategic, and seemingly practiced with a blade, knowing exactly where to put it. Not to mention her knife-throwing skills.

“I’ve doing this a fucking long time!”

He thought back to when he confronted her about her operation. But before he could think any more about how long “a fucking long time” was, a new voice crackled over comms.

“All stations, this is Hatchet 3-1. We are approaching from the southwest. Thirty seconds out.”

“Extract in thirty seconds!” Alejandro echoed.

“Solid copy!” Ghost yelled back.

It was a good thing too; more and more hostiles were trying to get to the restaurant and their dwindling ammo supply was concerning to say the least.

“Shite, I’m out!” Soap called out.

“Here!” Rodolfo tossed him a magazine. “Last mag!” 

“Fucking hell,” Ghost heard Siren say. “Armor is blocking our exit.”

“Graves,” Ghost said, “our exit’s blocked by enemy armor. Requesting immediate air support.”

“Check north! We got armor crossing the bridge!” 

While Siren was busy stabbing another cartel member unfortunate enough to come upstairs, Graves’ gunship fired at the bridge and took it out completely, destroying any transports and preventing further reinforcements.

“Bravo 0-7, extract is on station. Exit west of the building, they are standing by.”

“Shadow-1, solid copy! We’re moving now!” Alejandro replied. “Ghost, Soap, Siren, Rudy—we’re leaving! Let’s go!”

“Copy! Moving!” Ghost yelled back. They ran to the stairs, careful not to step on the deceased cartel members. 

“Thank fucking God,” Siren said.

“Copy that,” Soap echoed.

They reached the downstairs, luckily no hostiles were inside.

“Bravo 0-7, HLZ secure, You’re clear to proceed.” Graves told Ghost.

“Copy. Moving now.” 

His team rushed out of the door and straight to the helicopter, the sound of the whirring blades music to Ghost’s ears.

“Everyone in!” Alejandro yelled.

Soap had slight trouble getting Hassan to get in but eventually managed. Siren hopped in as well, and Ghost followed behind her.

“This should send a message to the cartel, yeah?” Soap asked Alejandro and Rodolfo.

“It will, hermano,” Alejandro told him. “They lost something more than just soldiers today.”

“What’s that?” Siren asked.

“Their reputation.”

“Word travels fast in Las Almas,” Rodolfo added.

“3-1, we’re set!” Alejandro told the pilot. And with that, they were off.

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COMPLETED SERIES [MASTERLIST]

[this story contains] peter parker x innocent original character, aged up peter, multiverse oc, dd lg dynamic, lots of fluff, lots of angst, lots of smut 

She’s not from this version of earth, a superhuman with loose control of her powers, but she’s as innocent as they come. Peter tasks himself with caring for her but, as she begins to charm him, will Peter be able to resist her for long? 

total word count: 15.8k

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six - End

Excerpt: 

Soon, the hologram disappeared but the problem at hand was even direr than the mission he was just sent on.

Peter rolled back in his chair and Doe emerged from under the desk, “Stay away, you evil girl.”

Doe only crawled forward, giggling, “Take care for Peter, please?” She positioned herself between his legs again, sitting up on her knees as her hands reached for the member growing in his pants. It felt a bit softer now and Doe frowned but a few more touches from her, it was hard again.

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, “Do you even know … what that mouth of yours would do to me? What your hands would do?” She would kill him, he was sure of it, but at least he’d die happy.

♥︎ 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂.𝗽𝘀𝗱 by i4junie

to receive the link: follow me, like + reblog and ask me (logged) “attracted to you.psd please”

I am risking nothing

I AM SORRY FOLLOWERS, I LOVE MY MOMMY

Will not risk.

Since the beginning of time, religion has been an integral part of our society. And because of that, prayers has always been prevalent. Whether it be to the God-with-a-big-G, or to one of the other gods-with-a-little-g, or just a shout into the void because you didn’t know what you really believed in, you have probably prayed at some point in your existence. People have prayed for themselves, for their best friends and family members thrice removed, even praying for people they didn’t even know. Yet, in the thousands or millions of years that we have existed (depending on what belief you put your stock into), has anyone ever prayed for the one man everyone blames everything on? Has anyone ever prayed for the biggest sinner in existence? Has anyone ever prayed for Satan himself? 

When I ask this to anyone, they give blank stares, citing off why God, and by extension, Satan, doesn’t exist. Or they spout off reasons why you shouldn’t pray for Satan. Or they reply with a dull “well, I don’t know”. And so, I have come up with the only explanation: No. 

No one has ever prayed for Satan. And no one probably will. And I don’t know why. 

Why has no one ever had the humanity to pray for someone who seemingly can do nothing right? Why has no one ever sympathized with the Devil, wonder why he defied a supposed almighty God-with-a-big-G and was banished from the world’s only Paradise? Why did he trick Adam and Eve, thus ruining our chances of peace and harmony? Why did the world hate him so much that we as a species could never think to forgive him? After all, we have the ability to. We have sympathized with murderers and drug dealers and kidnappers. So, why can’t we sympathized with the world’s biggest sinner?

I have an idea as to why. If we did forgive the devil, who could we pin the blame on? Who would become the ultimate scapegoat? Had we not condemned him for so much, could we have forgiven him by now? And that made me wonder, did he actually do wrong? Had he been the scapegoat up in Heaven? Had he been sick and tired of being treated like shit, and just left without telling anyone? And because of that, a lie soon spread that he had defied God-with-a-big-G and went down to Earth to fuck shit up with humans. Maybe he wasn’t the world’s biggest sinner. Maybe he was a guy who messed up a few times, and was sentenced to a life of Hell. Maybe we should all pray for Satan, and ask for the supposed forgiving God-with-a-big-G to let bygones be bygones. 

But that could never be. We were forged in the likeness of God-with-a-big-G. And I think that goes far beyond physical appearance. He has the same tendencies that we do. He has a harsh temper, and probably isn’t as forgiving as we like to think. Just as we could never forgive Satan, God-with-a-big-G never could either. 

And that’s how the world ended. 

Well, it actually ended because of corrupt governments and biased peoples and never ending wars. But if you put your stock in religion, you would probably agree with my previous statement and say that the world was destroyed because forgiving someone isn’t as easy as we would like to think. Everything we built crashed and burned because burying the hatchet is a lot more difficult than burying ourselves in trillions of dollars of debt. And the worst part of all? It only ended in a metaphorical sense. I would much rather had it all been destroyed in a wave of meteors or by a hydrogen bomb or, Heaven forbid, by a fucking zombie apocalypse. No, everything still stands, everyone still exists in an unethical, fraudulent, pervert world that no one could possibly fix.

But I wanted to fix it. I wanted everything to become better so badly that I could taste it. I dreamed of a tomorrow in which you needn’t worry about politics and the possibility of another World War because you had your family and your friends and you forgave the Devil because he didn’t do anything wrong. God-with-a-big-G didn’t hate his wayward son and everything was right in the world. 

But that day could never come because we were forged in the likeness of God-with-a-big-G, and if he could have allowed for terror to rain down upon us, how could we ever have the power to stop it?