depraved angel

mikey ⋆ 20 ⋆ he/him/they/them musical_nobody on ao3 ⋆ writer

[musicalnobody]

⋆♱✮♱⋆ depraved angel ⋆♱✮♱⋆

Hi hi!! I'm mikey! I'm 20 years old and go by he/they pronouns!! Welcome to my blog <3

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Basic Information

My account is 18+ and regularly features sexual/dark content. MDNI. (I will block users who violate this rule)

In this blog I will be posting fanfics from multiple fandoms, mainly call of duty and gravity falls. I may also post my own original works from time to time.

With that said, I'm just doing this for fun. While I would love to be a full-time writer, I am a full-time college student with a part-time job and a life outside of fanfics (a tragedy truly). Therefore, please excuse occasional slowness and some grammatical errors here and there, I'm trying my best!

˙⋆✮ requests and dms are open, i love socializing!

˙⋆✮ read guidelines before following

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Guidelines

˙⋆✮ I will not write excessive gore, but canon-typical violence can be expected.

˙⋆✮ I absolutely will not write anything involving underage individuals, all characters are above the age of 18

˙⋆✮ Absolutely nothing regarding beastiality

Warnings

˙⋆✮ I do write about dark topics such as r*pe, cnc/dubcon, kidnapping, etc. please head the trigger warnings. Don't like? Don't read. Make sure you take care of yourself!

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Tags I use

musicalnobody writes - most of my works will be under this tag including fics and longer drabbles

musicalnobody ideas - shorter drabbles and ideas for fics

musicalnobody answers - responses to questions and thoughts so graciously placed in my askbox!

musicalnobody draws - my art pieces, few and far between

musicalnobody rambles - my own tag for spewing bs and speaking to the void

Navigation

Masterlist

spotify playlist for cod fanfics (specifically simon)

AO3

All of my fics will be cross posted on ao3. I do typically tend to post on ao3 quicker than I do here, so if you want faster updates, follow me over there!

[kentwos]

something about the way johnny murmurs christ and kisses the cross on his necklace the first time you get naked for him

[silverlullabies]

The doctor hasn’t blinked in about thirty seconds.

He’s just…staring at Soap’s hands.

Johnny, for his part, is grinning like he’s just won the lottery and been knighted in th same afternoon, fingers resting on the exam table like nothing’s wrong. The knuckles are already swelling and mottling purple, the crooked angle of two fingers making your stomach twist.

You fix your gaze on a very interesting point on the floor instead of the train wreck that is this appointment. Your face is on fire. You can feel the nurses outside the curtain listening.

The doctor clears his throat.

“Alright, Mr. MacTavish,” the doctor said, gently prodding the mangled digits with gloved fingers. Soap didn’t flinch, just kept beaming like a kid showing off a scraped knee from a playground victory. “X-rays are back. You’ve got multiple fractures; three bones in your right hand, two in the left. Clean breaks, but nasty. Care to explain how this happened again?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Maybe if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.

Soap’s grin widened. He leaned forward, eyes sparkling, completely ignoring your mortified squeak and the way you sank lower in your seat.

“Oh, doc, me and my bonnie here- ” he jerked his chin toward you, making you wish the floor would swallow you whole “- we were havin’ a right proper go at it last night. You know, the kind that shakes the foundations? I had a grip on the headboard for leverage, thrustin’ away like a champ, and well… got a wee bit enthusiastic. Slammed forward too hard, and bam! Fingers got crushed between the wood and the wall.”

The doctor just stares.

Soap beams. “Hurt like hell, but I powered through. Finished strong, too- didn’t miss a beat!”

You contemplate spontaneous combustion.

The doctor inhales.

“I’m…sure you did,” he says at last. “Let’s get you splinted, Mr. MacTavish. And maybe consider a…sturdier headboard.”

Soap glances over at you, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, don’t you worry, doc. That’s not the only thing that’s sturdy.”

You bury your face in your hands as the doctor pretends, valiantly, not to hear that.

[pedropascallme]

Simon Riley who is so exceedingly blunt, not out of an effort to be rude or crass, but because he simply cannot bear the thought of wasting time when it comes to you.

Simon who watches you from your shared bed as you return from your brief shower; your hair dripping down your neck and back, your skin dewy and warm. Simon who can't help but put his phone down in favor of taking you all in, catching your attention with a low whistle. And when you quirk a brow, shoot him a smirk, murmuring a brief and sarcastic yeah, Si? just above the sound of your own quiet laugh, he responds simply:

"Come sit on my face."

Simon who watches you while you idle in the kitchen, leaning your forearms on the countertop while you wait for the kettle to heat up. Simon who is instantly drawn to you, making his presence known behind you by putting his hands on your hips and squeezing, pressing himself against your ass and staring down at the position you're in.

"Turn the stove off, love," he tugs your shorts down while you squirm happily, caged between his arms. "Gonna fuck you like this. Now."

Simon who can barely focus on something as simple as grocery shopping, not while you're wearing that pretty dress and swaying your hips like you know you've got his attention. Simon who takes the opportunity to lean in behind you while you're reaching for something stocked on a high shelf; he grabs it for you easily, but keeps you trapped between his body and the rack so that he can mutter in your ear:

"Dress is comin' off in an hour, whether we're home or not."

Simon who can't help but let his mouth run nonstop when he's got you wrapped around his cock, who maintains his blunt tone but with a shakier delivery even when he's right on the edge.

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna—Christ, sweetheart, m'gonna fill you to the fucking brim. 'Nd I'm gonna watch it drip before I fuck it back into that perfect cunt."

[pinksplace]

It started as a joke.

A bite back when he when he against his relentless barking of orders..

"Do I look like I'm playing Simon says?" 

You weren't sure why you said it, what made you think you would ever get away with it.

Simon would make sure you wouldn't.

"Tell me again love." Simon coos, hand splayed over the back of your head as he forces his cock down your throat. "Tell me how you don't like bein' told what to do."

You can't though, of course not your mouth is full. Spit runs from the corners of your lips down your chin. It pulls around his balls, only to wet your chin everytime he pulls you down to the base. 

Your thighs clench together, hands gripping his thighs so tight you'll leave crescent shaped bruises from your nails.

"What's that?" He asks, cocky as ever.

He lets you pull back this time, almost. You get all the way to the tip, a bite of snark already rumbling in your throat when he shoves you back down.

Your nails dig in tighter, hard enough to draw blood. All it does is make him twitch in your mouth.

Your thighs are pulled so close together they're going numb, doing absolutely nothing to dull the ache brewing in your cunt.

You whine around him, wet and incomprehensible. Your hips buck into the air as he drags his tip over the back of your throat again, gagging around his length. 

"C'mon you can take it." He coos, grip iron tight as he keeps you in place. "The only way you're gonna cum tonight is if you do exactly Simon says."

[rawme-price]

Ghost, coming home late from a night out with the team, drunk off his ass and hardly coherent, realizes he's lost his keys.

He's lost his keys, but he has not lost the lockpicking set he always has on him. Thank god he is still good at lockpicking while drunk.

...unfortunately he's not as skilled at reading the apartment numbers.

He's in the middle of wondering who rearranged his furniture when there's a sharp pain in the back of his skull and it all goes black.

Cue you promptly freaking out because you probably killed your weird neighbor, he just crumpled onto the floor and– a sudden groaning, and the body rolls over to stare at you.

Did he just tank a bat to the head?? Nevermind. More importantly, you kneel down next to him and subtly press a touch to the back of the head, feeling for damage "sir? Are you okay? Should i call someone?"

"....god, love, yer pretty. Good swing." He slurs, head tilting back "...wanna get dinner sometime?"

Then he actually blacks out.

What the fuck?

[rawme-price]

Thinking abt reader's car breaking down in thr parking lot...

It's official, you're about to start crying in the parking bay of your very important government job. Because your rust bucket of a car has decided to finally give up on you.

"No, no, no, no!" You cry quietly, slamming your fist against your dashboard as your car stutters and stops before it can even start "no! You fucking asshole! I can't do this–"

You're broken from your sobbing breakdown by a knock on your window, startling back. Your boss, Captain price, is leaning down to peer at you.

"...you okay, kid?" He asks through the glass, one half of his face illuminated by the lamppost.

"Uhm–" fuck. You do not need your boss to see you like this. Teary eyed with wet cheeks. It's hard enough getting anyone's respect when you're so young. "I'm uh..."

"C'mon, out." Price says for you, opening your car door because it hasn't locked in months and gently pulling you out "you can catch a ride with me."

You are many things, but not brave enough to tell your boss no. Price guides you into his passenger seat and, after eyeing the thing coat you wear, reaches into the back and tosses a thick blanket at you.

"Just settle down, kid, I'll handle yer car." He grunts, typing in your address to his GPS.

The car is warm, with only the faint hum of the heater and the radio. No weird squeaks or rumbles, no harsh jostles. You tuck the blanket up to your chin and, completely against your will, fall asleep.

Being asleep, you don't notice the worried looks price throws you. How he frets over you wearing a thin coat in snow weather, how he eyes the shabby building he pulls up to.

"Wake up, kid, we're here." He whispers, gently helping you out of the car. You're so tired you don't notice he's kept the blanket snug around you until you're well into your apartment.

That night, with his blanket, is the warmest night you've had all winter.

[musicalnobody]

writing the filthiest noncon/dubcon smut (pt 2 to the kidnapper simon post) to like soft christmas music is so funny to me for some reason, but hey, whatever can get me to write this damn post

[rawme-price]

pathetic men that chant 'i love you' even when they dont mean it when theyre close to cumming 🤤🤤🤤

Ghost, who insists that you and him are just a convenient solution, but he says different when in bed with you.

"Fuck! Ah, ah, ah– dove, c'mon–" his face is tucked into the base of your neck, right between shoulder blades, hands desperately holding your waist.

Ghost is trembling, breath warm and jumping along your spine. You can't see it but he's got tears clinging to his lashes, face screwed up around scars as he chants "i love you– love you, fuuuck– I love you, I love–"

His hips stutter, until they press firmly against you. His cock twitches and spurts into the condom, and ghost sighs in relief. Sagging down, sweaty chest pressed to yours. You try not to react to sweetly, he always pulls away.

Sure enough, ghost is pushing off of you with a grunt. He goes about cleaning himself up without so much as a glance to you. That impenetrable facade, that emotionless soldier is back.

He glances at you as he pulls on his jeans, still languid and fucked out in bed, and reminds "price needs that report tomorrow mornin'. I'd get to it if I were you."

That's it. No thank yous, no kind words. Just talking to you like you're every other subordinate he has. You make some sort of noise, wait for him to leave before cleaning yourself up. You sleep in the bed that still smells like him.

If you press the pillow to your chest, and imagine it's ghosts back, then no one needs to know. It's not like he means anything he says anyways, he made sure you knew that.

[superhoeva]

once john price realizes you've been sucking in your stomach around him–oof. are you in for it...

in for it being him purchasing an enormous mirror to hang against your bedroom wall so he can rail you at all angles possible. each position john contorts you in never strays too far from the reflection he orders you to observe, your sweaty body and bouncing every pound of his hips. the mattress bobs along with you as john loses himself in every part of you. completely drunk and half-gone at the sight of you moving the way you do. rambling at the shell of your ear with slurred words and hot pants.

"'m hurt, love. been hidin' yourself from me."

"s'the end of that now, tho, huh?"

"see that? hm? all soft 'n plush f'me. just like i like ya..."

"don't want you doin' that shite anymore. want all of you... wanna see all of you. all the time. understand?"

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[rawme-price]

Being a broke college student, you can't afford a new car and can hardly afford to fix your current rust bucket.

So you take it to the sketchy mechanic most of your friends told you to avoid. People call him ghost. He's some ex-military, you think, a real ugly mug and general weirdness about him. But...he agreed to take a look at your car for free, so you can at least see if it's an issue you can ignore for another day.

Only for him to tell you no, your car is on it's last legs and just fixing the essentials will put you out of your home. So you beg, plead for some way to drop the price, and watch as ghosts smile grows, scars pulling at the skin "oh, love, I know jus' the thing."

He bends you over the workbench with his oil-stained hands, and doesn't bother to prevent the dirt smudging onto your clothes.

You ask him to put on a rubber at least and he shoots back "I'll do it for free if you let me finish inside."

Which is how you end up sitting uncomfortably on the single chair in the workshop. Every shift makes you grimace, ghosts cum steadily leaking out after the two loads he pumped into you.

He fixes your car and true to his word doesn't charge you. Still, you get a firm pat on your ass and a muttered "come back again, love. I'll change yer shitty tires for free if you blow me."

...you try not to think about how your car is running smoother than it has in months on the ride home.

[ohclaire]

You knew Ghost was big. Duh. He was over 6 feet, 200 something pounds of pure danger. But you’d never seen him without a shirt on.

So when you’re distracted trying to remember what Laswell just told you to relay to Price, balancing your reports and your burning hot, fresh coffee, you might not look around the corner you turn.

And you run smack into Ghost.

The burning liquid sloshes out of the cup, all over Ghost’s front, and down your arm. You drop everything immediately with a “shit!”

You start swiping at your arm, trying to get the hot liquid off, and Ghost…

Ghost rips off his shirt rapidly, the coffee seeping quickly through the cotton and presumingly burning him. With the shirt gone revealed is…a softness.

Maybe somewhere in your mind you expected rock-hard abs. It felt kind of natural after all, you’ve seen him basically singlehandedly lift a humvee that flipped onto Johnny, so of course he would be strong. But in reality, that level of fat to muscle ratio isn’t sustainable. The amount of energy your job requires means you carb load a lot. A healthy level of fat needed to be maintained. So when he takes off his shirt to reveal a soft pudge, still taunt indicating the hardness of the muscle underneath, you get a little distracted. It’s so…appealing. Cute? He looks soft! You know for a fact he could take down five guys at once but now you know he would also make an incredible pillow.

When you snap back into reality, he’s approached to tower over you, attempting to intimidate probably.

“Seriously, sergeant? Couldn’t watch where you were goin’?”

Except…it has the opposite effect of intimidation. Because now you’re seeing up close how much he encapsulates you. How much larger he is. And his stupid mask is still on so he’s just looking down at you through his stupid blonde eyelashes and his stupid brown eyes are shining and his stupid ab-pudge situation is basically in your face, and his stupid belt is digging into his stupid stomach just a little which is making his pudge look even softer and his v-line is still visible and is that hai—

God! Get it together!

“Right…yeah, sorry Lieutenant…” you’re talking to his stomach.

“Eyes up here.” His voice is gruffer, quieter.

You do what he says without question.

He just looks in your eyes for a moment before dropping the subject, “look where you’re going next time.”

He turns to leave you…and presumably to replace his shirt (shame).

“…Rog’.” Yeah you’re not thinking about watching your step. 

[musicalnobody]

guys im just a fanboy at heart, like 4 or 5 of my favorite authors fucking liked my kidnapper simon post, INCLUDING the very author who inspired me to freaking start writing on tumblr and posting on AO3. I am through the roof right now oh my god!!!

[musicalnobody]

KIDNAPPER SIMON MY BELOVED AHHHHHGGGHICDGIGKXFJZJLVIGGCKFX

WE WANT MORE

I'M ON IT I PROMISE!!!! i don't work today so im spending most of the day writing the second part, i'd say it's about 1/3 done but here's a sneak peak!!

[etherealizzie]

(Sorry I sent this as a screenshot - I typed this out, but want to make sure "daddy kink" wasn't an off-limits topic, but I didn't want to type it again). I love your writing!

daddy kink is never off limits for me <33 thaznk you, i appreciate it so much !! :D

tws beforehand: daddy kink, brat!afab!reader pussy slapping, mean!simon, a little possessive on his end :D

price was busy again on the days that he promised to take care of you. looking all apologetic when he came into your cunt in his office, saying he had to work overtime.

that was fucking dumb, you came first before his stupid fucking-- ugh. it was rude and mean! you were supposed to have him and simon tonight. your daddy promised you that and he didn't follow through again!

and that's exactly how you found yourself ass up in simon's room, whining and squirming on his cock. you were so fucking needy, one dick wasn't enough for you. no matter how good it felt to have simon pin your hands behind his back, how his thick fuckin' cock was practically ruining that spongey spot inside you, and the obscene sounds of your pussy. simon calling you his good pup, his precious slut.

but.. this was simon being nice. too nice. and you wanted, no, needed him to be mean.

"fuuck-- hah, daddy, please more.." you slurred out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and knowing damn well that's not simon's name. the rhythm of simon's thrusts slowed down, his hands still pining yours to your back while he goes painfully slow.

"yer daddy's not here, doll." simon whispers, slamming his hips into your ass and eliciting a whine from you. "who's splitting you open on this cock, luvie?" he buries himself deep into you and stills.

"hah- you, si, it's you!" and simon only scoffs, a little tsk. his hands let go, finding themselves on either side of your hips. you whine, feeling him pull back, until it was only the tip catching onto the rim of your sloppy cunt.

"not." a hard thrust. "my." plap. "fuckin'." plap. "name."

you bite your lip, trying not to give him that satisfaction but god, simon is impatient when he doesn't get what he wants. he pulls out and flips you over on your back, one hand spreading your leg open and a loud smack hitting your soaked pussy.

"are we forgetting our manners, doll?" simon taunts, another slap to your pretty cunt. you squeal, feeling the tip of his fingers smack your clit.

"sir please-- 'm sorry, i'll be good-" and you feel simon's hands under your thighs before that familiar feeling of being full of him hits you.

"fockin' right. wasn't so hard to be polite, huh, baby?"

and really, you couldn't form words when simon was fucking you within an inch of his life. your cunt was absolutely going to be flooded with simon's cum before price can even get a turn when he comes home.

lucky for you, price loves the feel of simon's cum just as much as you do.

[the-auguer]

simon “I’d rather you shoot me before asking what we are” riley dating a girl with an equally terrible commitment complex.

like this guy is in her home, eating her food, poking around her things every single second of the leave he gets. his clothes hang in the closet next to hers. he has a designated side of the bed. he bought a tool kit just to be able to fix her broken shelf. he’s the one that the dentist called when she was up on anesthesia and couldn’t drive herself home. he follows her around at the grocery store and remembers what kind of grapes or apples she likes and gets them without her reminding him. wordlessly pays for everything when he’s around. rubs her feet when she’s tired. but they’re not fucking dating. simon is thirty years old, he’s too old to be a boyfriend. it’s a liability. this whole thing is out of convenience and he can stop and cut her off anytime he wants… but no one can blame him for not wanting treat her like shit in the meantime, right?

versus his girl that gets crowded and icked out by dating someone and them being in her space constantly. it’s so much better to have simon swing by after four months of not seeing him. it lets her keep her routine and gives her space. never mind that simon falls back into her routine effortlessly every time. or that she ignores anything broken at home for when he gets back. that she keeps a list of fun things she wants to do “in the future” that only gets done when he’s there. or that she washes his clothes and makes his food when he returns. or that she sleeps with a leg hooked over his hip, and an extra large pillow lying in his spot when he leaves. that he never tires her out when he’s home. because they’re not dating. having a boyfriend is draining and unnecessary work, and simon isn’t.

[musicalnobody]

your last writing was so good I love how you write is awesome!! hope we get part 2 for the kidnapping one but not forcing or anything I just wanted to express that I liked a lot, hope you have a good day!!!

Eeee thank you so much my love, mwah!! I love getting asks like this because it does encourage me to continue writing, part 2 will indeed be coming soon, hopefully by tomorrow if I’m not too stressed with finals! much love <3